XXVIII

Memento Mori

What follows is a battle – a reminder – that Kouga desperately needs, though he does not know it, would not admit it if he did. Kouga is not overmastered – not quite, but neither does he have the power to take down Jigoku and Jaaku in the same manner as their weaker followers. The power of the shikon no tama has greatly strengthened his own abilities, reinforcing his strengths, strengthening even his weaknesses, but it is not a perfect power. It has not made him invulnerable; it has not raised him above the reach of enemies that might find him and seek the destruction of all he holds dear.

The shock of it – that will not sink in until later. In the moment, he remains in the air, staring with vengeful eyes at his opponent. Two minds, one body – one movement, but two wills. Yet two wills in union, or otherwise how could they exist? Kouga's sharp blue eyes bore into two sets set alight with an equal fire of red bloodlust, and he falls to the round once more.

He hears the last noises from the fallen harpies cease. Ginta and Hakkaku are doing their duty, ending the few lives that remain bleeding on the forest floor and in the river and sprawled on the ledges in front of the den. Then there is silence, except for the beating wings of the leader and the sounds of many paws padding close, just out of striking distance, still a threatening presence of wolfish power.

Jigoku's voice comes toward Kouga from the sky – a threat and a taunt both, but tainted by fear.

"You cannot fight us on your own, Wolf?"

Jigoku knows the lesson Kouga is learning – the lesson of mortality, the potential for failure; in their attack on the wolves they had discounted Kouga's true power, increased to a blazing wrath by the presence of the shikon no tama. They had not even known of the miko's presence – Kagome's presence – even now, in her position between Kameko's paws, she was invisible to them, her power overspent and voided by unconsciousness. If they had, they would not have come – or their plan of attack would have been quite different.

Now, they know only that she is among the wolves; a sleeping danger and an invisible threat whose proof is in the silvered dust blowing in the wind.

Kouga is not taunted into answering the challenge that has been thrown at him. He knows the wolves behind him have come not to interfere, but to witness; not to join, but to howl at his victory. He has never failed them; he does not plan to start now. They can feel it; it is the ultimate union, a surge of oneness within the pack.

Straight and true as an arrow, Kouga leaps upward, darting on the empty spaces that lie between him and his foe. To the wolves watching below, even Ginta and Hakkaku who have seen this once before, it is like he is flying, zipping so rapidly from point to point that they do not see him in transition. Then comes battle, but not like any battle Kouga has fought before.

His claws may not be able to penetrate the feathers of the twins' shared hide, the reeking birdflesh that is the lower half of their body – but youki can. Blue fire disturbs the feathers, rakes a bloody wound across them and then upward to the more tender flesh of Jaaku's torso. A high-pitched shriek rends the air and the twins attack.

To the wolves watching below, there is only red fire and blue fire and white sound. Blood falls and spatters, some black, some red; by this, they know that Kouga is wounded – by which is more prevalent, they know that he is winning.

Kouga strips the flesh from beneath the feathers and directs his attacks at a dangerous spot – the place between the torsos of the twins, the place where they are joined together into one being. He braces himself against the great bulk of the bird and strikes deep into gray, rancid tissues, and then jumps back and back down to the ground when he feels a sharp jab in his shoulder.

It is a sword; no magic to it, just a keen edge. Kouga pulls it free and then tosses it aside; he rolls his shoulder and only winces a little; the wound is already healing. He smiles, but it is not his usual grin. It is intent; intense. Purposeful. He gathers the power that is within him; shikon no tama and his own youki. He moves upward, aims his attack with the full energy of that power focused behind it, a whirlwind like that which moves behind him from earth to sky.

The sharpness of his claws slashes outward like the blade of a sword. He is moving faster than the eye can see, faster than the limits of flesh should allow.

Kouga cleaves an arm from Jaaku, and a chunk of flesh from his brother's side. The screams please him, and so do the shrieks of retreat, retreat that sound from Jigoku.

There are none left to hear them.

He has done his job well.

He hovers on the edge of following those beating winds, ripping the shard of the shikon no tama from the dead flesh of his foe – but below him a new sound, soft as it is, catches all his attention.

"Kouga..."

It is Kagome's voice, and like lightning striking he is beside her in an instant.

A/N: There we are! Back on schedule once again, as this is (finally) today's chapter! The title, "Memento Mori" translates to "remember, you are mortal" - or more properly, "remember, thou art mortal" - meaning that all men must die. It will do Kouga well to remember this, as things continue to grow and gain in portent and momentum...I believe I can say without revealing too much (or anything, really) that we all know the name of the enemy who will seek to counter any attempt to gather the shards of the shikon no tama - and isn't there a sleeping hanyou somewhere who might have something to say about that too? Insert...an evil face here! Much thanks to my reviewers, and I will see you all...in the land of tomorrow! Who knows, could be a very exciting place to be...

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