Sango raced through the fog-draped forest. She had become separated from the others in the unnatural fog, but she knew they could not have gone far. If she was quick enough, she could find them again before they could get into too much trouble…
She only slowed when her foot landed in a puddle. A puddle that was not water, but thick and dark as blood.
The fog before her began to clear, revealing the full extent of the horror into which she had just run.
The puddle in which she stood wasn't just blood, it was the monk's blood. His lifeless body lay nearby, one outstretched arm just inches from her foot. Great gashes marred his face, laid open his chest so that his lifeblood would drain into the earth.
A little further on, Inuyasha lay against a tree. He might have seemed only to be resting, except for the great rent that had been torn not only in his body but in the tree he now reclined against.
Beyond him, she saw dim shapes lying still on the ground: Kagome and Shippou and Kirara, as dead as the others.
It wasn't possible. They couldn't possibly have been cut down so quickly without making a sound, yet the proof was right there in front of her.
She fought for air, fear and anguish threatening to strangle her. They couldn't be dead, they couldn't! They were all she had left after the destruction of her village and the deaths of her family and comrades. They had taken her in when she had nothing. They had given her a place and a purpose. They had saved her from Naraku's grasp… and she had not been there for them when they needed her most.
Pain wracked her. Physical agony echoed the terrible emptiness in her heart.
Unable to think clearly—to fully realize that whatever had done this was still out there—she cast aside the hiraikotsu, thinking only that she must do what she could to lay her friends properly to rest.
The perpetrator struck the moment her guard was down. A swish through the air and the subtle clink of a chain were her only warning before the chain scythe's blade pierced her back for a second time.
The last of the air gushed from her lungs in a single painful grunt as she fell to her knees. The blade made a sickening sound as it slipped free of her flesh, pulled back to its master by the chain that linked them.
Even before she turned, Sango knew what she would find. From his hidden place in the fog, her brother approached her.
Not her brother, she tried to remind herself, but it was far too late for that. Despite what he had obviously done, Kohaku's eyes were not empty as they had been before. He recognized her, and had still chosen to kill her alongside her companions.
"Kohaku…" she gasped. It was worth one last try, for Kohaku. "You did this?"
"Thank you, elder sister," he responded. There was something ugly in his voice, something unrecognizable, utterly alien to the younger brother she had always known. "You've always protected me, so it's thanks to you that I was able to fulfill Naraku's orders."
"No." He couldn't have done this, not willingly, not at Naraku's orders. If he had… there was no hope for her, or anyone else.
"Elder sister… go join your friends in the other world." The words thus dispassionately said, Kohaku stepped closer to bring down the scythe one last time.