Every Time

Chapter 14: Finale

Notes: Wow, the last chapter (save the epilogue)! I could go all sappy about how much I've learned and grown over the time writing this, but I'll save you the agony, and let you enjoy what it took so so long to finally get done.

Many thanks go to parsnip; you're such an awesome and helpful beta, and I could have never done it without you!

I disclaim.

All she could let herself think was that she needed to just keep running.

Her legs hurt, her arms hurt, her lungs hurt, her head hurt – Hell, her entire body hurt! – but she forced it out of her mind, forcing the muscles to continue letting her move a little further. Her lungs begged for proper amounts of oxygen, unsatisfied with the strained gasps she was supplying it with.

Behind her, she could hear Miroku, panting and stumbling as she pulled him along. His hand clutched her wrist tightly to keep him from slipping when she jerked him this way and that to avoid the trees and large rocks that flavoured the landscape around Naraku's castle.

"You alright?" she choked outwithout looking back at him.

"Y-yeah," he answered, feeling her swing to the left. Immediately he adjusted his step, feeling a twig scratch at his face as he narrowly avoided a low-hanging branch.

Just run, keep running, keep going, keep running away, away, away from Naraku, and don't look back.

Just run!

Their plan to take down Naraku was not foolproof, but it was all they had. Any doubts remaining in Sango's mind were pushed forcefully away as she and Miroku followed Kagura down the vacant hallway. A few odd floorboards creaked with misplaced steps, causing both to wince as the harsh sound that broke the stillness. Kagura would talk to them quietly every now and then, obviously trying to settle their rattled nerves with her sarcastic remarks, but it was completely impossible to relieve the tension with the task before them.

"Sesshou-maru might come, but then again, he might not. You know how that asshole is…"

Sango had lost track of how long they had been walking by the time they reached their destination. Her grip on the hiraikotsu tightened, body ready and itching for battle.

Now or never.

Kagura's flaring scarlet eyes flickered from Sango to Miroku.

"Ready?"

Miroku nodded, and Sango exhaled slowly.

"Yeah."

The room – though it was not really a room, more a large dugout basement beneath the castle – was unlit, and the air was thick with the smell of earth, rot, and an awful something else that none of them could place. Miroku even found himself short of breath due to Naraku's youki, thick and prevalent all around them. Trying to place it was nearly impossible in the bleak darkness that obscured his vision, head clouded by nervous thoughts and the heartbeat that thudded loudly in his temple.

Kagura's light footsteps stopped suddenly, and a brief tap on his shoulder from Sango signalled he should pause as well.

Sango watched Kagura's gesturing hands, motioning to go around a curve in the wall they stood beside. It was obvious what was there. She took a moment to run through things quickly in her head, sifting through a series of thoughts and memories stored fondly in her mind and plucked out certain ones from the pile to watch, for perhaps the last time. There were so many, she found as she submerged for just a moment, and as the afterimages faded in her mind, she was shaking.

For father… for all of the taijiya, and for all of my village… for the people who have been hurt… for those who have been killed… for all my friends… for Miroku…

Swallowing the lump in her throat dryly, she opened her eyes.

For Kohaku…

The first notes of the overture began lilting from the orchestra pit as the golden lights dimmed, blocking out all outside distraction. The audience settled into a hush as the great velveteen curtains stirred and began to part, revealing the stage.

The final act had begun.

When Sango looked back on it later, it was a little hard to remember. A few images stayed vivid, one of these being Naraku's form that night – various pieces of grotesque body strewn around the large main form, and at the center of it all his ghastly pale-skinned head. Even with his eyes closed, the slight curve of its lips looked chillingly malicious.

She heard Kagura yell something (something, she could not recall), voice harsh and wild as the winds picked up around her, and the battle started.

It was no wonder I could hardly bring to mind what I had done, she thought afterwards. She had let herself use everything locked up inside of her – all that bottled up frustration, anger, disappointment, desperation – and turned it into pure adrenaline as Naraku's eyes shot open and she rushed forwards, hiraikotsu in hand. She managed to get in a few good, though reckless hits before he started to send out attacks of his own. The winds whipped her hair into her face and neck, but she ignored it, forcing herself to move faster and anticipate what she had to do next, and then after that, and after that. Fortunately, Naraku was without his usual taunts and jeers at that time, perhaps because of his weakened state, and this made it much easier to concentrate.

Meanwhile, Miroku was doing his best to fight off some of the minor demons that Naraku had called in to attack; it seemed he had suspected they would try something and had prepared himself to some degree. With his lack of sight and Naraku's stifling youki, it was difficult to predict attacks. He knew he had been pushed around and playfully slapped, even nipped a few times, but had fought most of them off.

'Useless.'

The Kazaana was of no use without his sight; if he used it he would probably just end up sucking Sango and Kagura along with all the demons and Naraku, and to risk Sango's life would be unbearable. Just the thought hurt, making the decision for him. All he could do, really, was keep his own self from getting killed and stay out of the way. Never had he felt so useless…

For a while, Sango was sure she was getting through. She tore through Naraku's flesh and damaged it again before he had time enough to heal it. Sometimes she was able to work in combination with blows dealt by Kagura, only increasing the power of the blow. His reflexes were slow, and he wasn't in any position to move; his only defences were the demons he somehow summoned to attack and the long tentacles that shot at her from what seemed to be all directions.

But of course, it was never that simple.

Just as she managed to dodge one attack and get in a little closer to Naraku's head – her weapon raised and anger radiating from her eyes – pain shot suddenly through her right side, just beneath her breast. The fabric felt damp and warm with blood as her body began to fall like dead weight, a throaty gasp piercing the air for a few seconds, but only that. Forcing her eyes to stay open (and catching a glimpse of the smirk Naraku was giving her as she did), she tried to haul herself up again; there was no point in giving up, no point in giving in. She couldn't!

"Sango!" Miroku cried out as he heard her scream, moving hastily towards where he had heard it coming from, though he stumbled over the parts of corpses that were strewn around as he did. "Sango, where are you? Are you-"

"Behind you!" she yelled through gritted teeth, and he ducked just in time to avoid having his head knocked off.

Exhaling in relief, he murmured a quick thank you to Sango before crawling towards her again.

"You okay?" he asked insistently.

Sango pulled herself into a crouch, wincing as the pain continued to come on in steady waves. "Yeah, it's not too bad. Not like he pierced my lung or anything, so I'm-"

"Maybe you should rest for a while," Miroku interjected. "I'll cover you."

"No," Sango said strongly, "I can do this."

"Sango…"

Their conversation was stopped abruptly as Miroku whipped around to fend off a group of youkai that had caught the strong smell of Sango's blood.

Kagura watched the exchange out of the corner of her eye, focusing on sending another wave of 'Fuuji no Mai' at Naraku. Things were not going well; he had more power than she had realized in this state, or maybe they were just weaker. In any case, she had hoped to wound him badly enough with their element of surprise in the first stages of the fight that they might gain an upper hand (also, she had figured Naraku would have crushed her heart and killed her before she got much of a chance to attack, but he hadn't yet, luckily). Unfortunately, this had not happened, and the battle was locked in a sort of stalemate, though she could tell it was only a matter of time before Sango and Miroku tired and since Sesshou-maru – uppity asshole, she added mentally – seemed to have forgotten what she had told him, they would…

Her thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation from the houshi.

"Sango, Kagura!" Miroku shouted, standing and facing the direction of Naraku. "Get behind me! Quick!"

His thoughts echoed Kagura's; their situation was still near hopeless. He recalled a saying Kagome had once told him. 'Desperate times call for desperate measures'.

It was without hesitation he reached for the prayer beads over his hand and pulled them back to his wrist, despite the Saimyoushou that had been hovering around menacingly. Had any of them looked at Naraku, they would have seen the delighted smile that crossed his face at this, watching as Miroku loosened the rosary further and a great wind picked up The beads barely glinted, looking aged and worn; only a fraction of the glory they had once held. Perhaps, Sango thought absentmindedly for a moment, it was just the lack of light. However, no sooner had the thought appeared was she on her feet again, grabbing at Miroku's arm from behind. His muscles stiffened, panicked, but relaxed again as he realized that she was the one grabbing onto him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed loudly in his ear, grabbing at the beads franticly. "What's wrong with you!"

"S-Sango, I-"

"Stop it!" she spun him around and tugged them over his wrist quickly before having to pull both their bodies to the ground to avoid an attack. She cursed loudly, making sure the rosary was in place before getting back up.

"Don't you dare," Sango uttered before running off, still keeping an eye on him as she dove back into the battle, once again summoning her frustration and grief to fuel her. It was true, things weren't looking good but such risks she didn't want to take. Losing both of them would be too much…

"Hey!" Kagura shouted to the taijiya suddenly, leaping over to join her. "Tell your boyfriend he doesn't need to throw his life away! Back up arrived!"

Sango blinked, looking confused a moment before Kagura gestured over her shoulder to where Sesshou-maru had made his entrance, alone. He gave their surroundings a look of disgust before grandly drawing his sword and nodding to Kagura.

"What took you so fucking long?" she yelled, but he pretended not to hear. The wind-user turned back to Sango. "Look, I want you two to go."

"What?"

"We can take it from here," Kagura told her. "I know you want to keep fighting, but face it, humans don't have nearly as much strength of endurance as most youkai. I do appreciate your effort, and you've worn him down a lot, but it'd be better if you got out of the way, now. Besides," she smiled bitterly, "if for some stupid reason we don't win today, you guys have to survive and take down the bastard some other time. Got me?"

Sango barely had time to respond before Kagura was gone again. Butchering a youkai that had dared to attack her, she took a quick second to make her decision. Though she desperately wanted to continue fighting and kill Naraku on her own, she could feel her energy boiling down, and her body just wasn't responding as fast as it was at the beginning of the battle. If this kept up, she would probably be more of a burden than a help, and worse, she might die without getting the job done, making all those sacrifices worthless. No, not worthless, but still…

They had done all they could, and that was the bottom line, Sango decided. She reached Miroku quickly, calling out his name as she reached for his hand. A small amount of tentacles shot out to them, as if attempting to keep them there, but they managed to evade them.

"Come on," she said urgently. "We have to go, or we'll just be in the way now. We've… we've done all we can."

It was with a weak smile and nod that he followed her, running quickly out and away as the building started to shake and crumble with the force of the battle. The castle was going down, he realized, thinking briefly of the apple tree before pushing his legs to run faster along with Sango. Away…

"Sango!"

Her legs kept moving.

"Sango!" Miroku said again, breathless. "I think we've gone far enough…"

She ran the suggestion through her mind twice, then began to slow her pace.

"Alright, there's a-a clearing over there! Uh, to the left." she called back to him, and began guiding him towards it, stepping quickly over the faded orange pine-needles that covered the forest floor, left there from the winter of the previous year. And finally, she let herself collapse, back pressed against the thick trunk of a tree, bark rough and peeling. Miroku, to her left, had done the same. Her entire body felt cold with sweat, almost numb, though jolts of pain still came every few seconds. Eyes closed, she focused on breathing – slowly, in through her nose, and then out through her mouth.

Beside her, she heard the ripping of cloth and opened her eyes but a slit to watch as Miroku ripped a wide strip of cloth from the bottom of his tattered robes.

"What are you…?"

"Where are you wounded?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'll bandage you first."

Miroku shook his head. "I may be blind now, Sango, but I can smell the blood on you… You're worse off than me."

"No, I'm…" Sango paused, and then looked down over her body, wincing at all the scrapes and cuts she had not before noticed. Of course, there was also the large gash on the right side of her abdomen where Naraku had gotten her. She touched it gingerly and winced, the nearly dried blood sticky on her skin.

"Alright, maybe I am," she said, quietly. "But I can do it myself, you don't have to-"

Ignoring her, Miroku reached forwards tentatively. He was lucky and found her waist, then let his hand move across and upwards until his fingers reached the wound.

"Damn," he muttered. "We don't have any water… I can only bind it for now. Does it look clean?"

Sango, surprised at just how levelheaded he was, glanced at the wound again. "I-I think so."

He nodded, and pressed the first strip of cloth to the wound. At the painful hiss of breath this elicited from Sango, he paused, and then continued a little more gently. The silence between them was still tense and nervous, though relieved.

They were alive.

They had escaped alive.

(Kohaku hadn't…)

It was for the best, Sango told herself once again. As much as it hurt, and as much as it didn't seem like it sometimes, this was the right thing.

A jolt of pain went through her chest as Miroku tied the makeshift bandage, and went to move on to some of her other wounds. She shifted forwards a little, raising an arm in protest.

"No, no," she mumbled, "I should take care of you now. I mean, aren't you-"

Miroku shook his head firmly again, picking up another strip of fabric. "You're bleeding from your shoulder, aren't you?"

She was.

"Miroku," she said after a while of quiet, in which he did his best to scrape the crusted blood from her skin and she let him. "Do you remember… I mean, would you mind telling me what-what Naraku said to you? Please… it's been bothering me."

At first, he continued his motions like clockwork but just as she was about to apologize for asking, he spoke.

"I was scared."

"What?"

"I was really, really scared," he continued, "that you were going to die. You see, Naraku knew that my Mother… well, birthing a child with the Kazaana was rough on her; it was a surprise she didn't die then and there, but she only lived for two years after. I don't remember her very well, but little things – like stories she used to tell me, or how soft her hair was when she let me play with it – I remember those very well. My father destroyed himself when she died. It was his curse that killed her, essentially. It left her weak and susceptible to illness.

"It happened with my grandfather too, only my grandmother – his second wife, actually, his first left him – did die in childbirth, leaving him to raise my Father all on his own until handing him over to a priest remarkably like Mushin just before he was sucked into the Kazaana… My bloodline really is cursed, and not just with perversity, so Naraku decided to use this information to his advantage. He didn't say it outright, but he hinted clearly that the same thing might happen to you. That you might get hurt because of… because of this." Miroku gestured angrily to his right hand. "I couldn't bear that. So today, when you were fighting, I was so scared that you were going to get hurt, and I couldn't help you…"

"You reckless fool," said Sango faintly. "You were willing to die…"

He smiled in that way he did. "I guess I was. As long as I killed Naraku and left you alive in the process, I would've been happy in my demise."

"You reckless fool!" she repeated, tears rising to wet her bottom lashes. "Did you ever think of what I would have felt if you were to die? Do you have any idea?"

His face fell slightly. "I-"

"Don't even." she shook her head, and reached over to place her hand over his firmly. "It's okay now, right? I mean, we made it out alive, so we still have a chance to go after him if Kagura and Sesshou-maru can't get the job done. We still have time. We still have each other, right?"

"Of course," Miroku reassured her, and himself. Sometime in the past while, a soundless understanding had built between them. There was closeness and trust, and yet a lot more than that. It had become natural, and no longer needed question or uncertainty, providing a steadiness they could cling to however tightly they needed.

Once their wounds had been dressed to some extent, Sango let her head rest softly against Miroku's shoulder, but only softly, as neither of them were in the best of shape. She felt his hand on her back, comforting, not daring to go any lower at such a time. They were bloody and they were battered, but they were alive and there was still hope. Even if they had lost other things, they still had that.

Sango turned her face into Miroku's robe and exhaled, breath against warm flesh.

They were alive.