Warrior
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This fiction was purely inspired by whatever information I have gathered on the plot of Inuyasha, and the imagination of Miss Elizabeth Robinson. I do not own any of the characters, or the basis of the story. Disregard any notion I own Inuyasha, nor that I want to.
It had been created out of pure pleasure and writer's thrill.
It is rated within a PG-13 status quo for a reason.
The central characters are Sango and Sesshomaru.
Please enjoy and read at your leisure. If you are unsatisfied with my work, as your not fond of my style of writing, don't make it known and bitch, because no one is interested in hearing, especially not someone who has put effort into creating it. If you didn't find pleasure in it, then why did you read it in the first place?
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Chapter One: The Sleep of No Dreams
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"Sango? Sweetie, wake up."
A soothing voice broke through the haze of her mind as Sango's eyes fluttered open, an intense heat upon her face, though a chill swept over her. The raven tressed warrior let out a little moan that would befit more a helpless kitten then herself, as Kagome's face peered down upon her, worry lines etched into the smooth skin of the young woman, giving Sango brief memories of an old woman who had once guided her and the companions she now knew as her family.
"I'm here. Can I have some water, Kagome?" Came the croak from Sango's mouth as she ran a papery tongue over lips dry and cracked, red cuts giving her intense, but brief, shots of pain.
She closed her eyes again, but heard a rustle, and a soft thud outside. Moments later, the demon exterminator felt a cold, powder like substance trickling down her throat. Fresh snow.
"When did it start, Kagome?" She felt her own voice fading even as she drifted back into sleep from the sickness that coursed through her body like a thousand running soldiers, burning her insides up and tearing her from within.
"The snow started just as you fell asleep again, Sango. Inuyasha says it will stay this was for another month or so. Why?"
But Sango had no answer, though an internal quiver ran through her body.
So it would come to pass within the cold moon of December.
She slept.
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As Sango fell once again into a restless sleep, Kagome leaned back against tree trunk that they nailed a blanket to, as providing shelter for Sango,
Three months had passed since the great battle with Naraku. For many years they had wandered the lands of Japan, hunting with determined strength for the last shards of the Jewel. The final time they would see the evil half-breed, he would die, but not alone. Many would go with him, namely the demons he sent towards them in waves, like a crashing ocean storm, engulfing their friends and enemies alike, slaughtering themselves in a lust for blood.
Koga had been lost, and over half of his wolf tribe. From the last they heard, Ayame had taken over in hopes to continue Koga's fierce legacy. Everyone knew the wolf demons would be diminished for years to come. Everyone.
Kagome sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. Shippo and Keade had also been taken, unfairly and unjustly. The stage for the war had not been on a battlefield, but the village that Kagome had founded so many happy memories. She wept often for them all, and with good reason. They had been friends that no amount of bloodshed can ever bring justice to.
And Miroku.
It had been his wind tunnel that did him in. Naraku's reign over the curse had succeeded the monk's final desires to live. Sango knew, but she was not wholly aware. It had been the demon slayer, Inuyasha, and herself that had finally brought Naraku down, only to find Sango half dead upon the battlefield the morning when they gained their rightful consciousness, raging with a fever that brought screams from her mouth in a cascade of terror stricken agony. They did not know why she was sick, or how she had received this sickness-out of all of them, she was one of the least injured, with very few broken bones, and only a few handfuls of tears in her skin.
Inuyasha had brought a possible theory to her ailing body into Kagome's attention a night ago.
They had lain solemnly by the campfire, the white haired half dog demon for once quite thoughtful and expressionless. Kagome, in a fashion that brought memories of her mother unto her, had slid her arm across his shoulders, gently urging him to tell her what was the matter. They communicated upon a deeper level then others, not as lovers, nor a brother and sister, or mother and son. They shared a soul that no one could ever interrupt, a calm, harmonizing effect.
He had given her a brief smile that seemed reassuring, as he proclaimed in a gentle tone he was worrying about Sango. Kagome had instantly rushed to inform him that she was improving…but he knew better, having checked on her as constantly as the priestess did.
"Maybe it's from Naraku, maybe an infection of a wound we missed, maybe poison…" Inuyasha had said hesitantly, slowly, as he stirred the cold ashes from an earlier fire with one hand, "…but I think…"
"Think what?" she had inquired in a whisper, as if terrified someone might here.
"She might be slowly dying from a broken heart." He finished, a flush spreading over his cheeks, almost ashamed at the notion. Kagome had buried her face in his hair, caressing his cheek. He had sat there, as quiet as ever, eyes fixed on his hands. They both knew he might as well be right.
Sango's pain came from not only Miroku, but also her brother.
Naraku had slaughtered Kohaku before her as she attempted to swing her sword down as the dirty half-breed was on his last trick.
The demon slayer hadn't registered it until creatures that wished for her death no longer surrounded her.
"You know what Inuyasha? The scary part is your right." Kagome whispered, suddenly returning from her flashback. The stars did not answer her. No one did but the owls softly singing in the canopy of black trees.
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Inuyasha himself did not know what to make of Sango's condition besides his idea. But as he listened carefully to the silent murmur passing through Kagome's lips, he felt a twinge of sadness and regret course through his body. He knew what he was so right about. He was not a stupid person, no-he may not be the great lord like his brother and father had been, but he was never stupid. He was just Inuyasha, friend to Sango, and lover of Kagome, son of a human woman.
He let out a restless sigh, and leaned backwards against the tree bark. It was chilly and soothing to his skin through his clothing, the tree swaying gently with the chilly winter breezes flowing through it. He still slept in trees, and occasionally, Kagome would even join him, as they studied the celestial sea before them in quiet wonder, speaking little, but feeling much.
Sango was not improving. She was getting worse with each passing day. It would take a miracle to bring her from the trance Death had lured her into. A miracle!
His claws dug into the blackened tree limb, and a sigh escaped his lips. Amber eyes shut slowly, and Inuyasha sang softly to himself, head tilted backwards. Visions of the battle danced before his eyes, tantalizing demons of What Really Happened.
In the end, they had not been heroes, nor villains. They had killed many, but saved more. The Shikon Jewel was destroyed, destroyed with Naraku and Kohaku and Miroku and Koga and Keade and Shippo and all those villagers and so many others. All gone, their souls gone off to whatever god knows where.
He pursed his lips, and leaned foreword this time, drawing his legs under his chin and tucking his face into his arms.
Life without Naraku was turning out to be worse then when he had been there.
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When Sango awoke again, stars of pain burst before her eyes. She gasped, and ran her hands through her hair, close to weeping as she saw the thinness of her arms. It appeared as if she was a starved prisoner of war.
She turned her head, feeling very weak, at the moonlight running in through the tent. Kagome breathed the air of sleep softly next to her, in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, the last remnants of her life on the other side of the well. It had closed, just like she had worried it would. There was only one way they could open it again, but…
When Naraku had been destroyed, the Shikon Jewel had once again been broken. If they received the power to make a wish, they just might be able to let Kagome pass between both worlds. They planned to collect the jewel shards…when she was better, or dead.
Sango blinked sleepily, and sat up slowly, ignoring the ache and fire in her bones. How she knew this was beyond her. For the last three months of a restless sleep, she had become only aware within what she felt was a comatose state, slipping in and out of reality so often she could not tell the dream from the nightmare and the nightmare from the real world. But she had heard Inuyasha and Kagome talking. They said things that…
They didn't have much hope for her.
She smiled bitterly, tears welling within her dull brown eyes. The fire within that had burnt out. It was cold ashes that rested within.
She knew she would die from the sickness, and she often felt sudden urges to live within the delirious awakenings. But that was the nightmare. They would never be able to get anywhere as they did before with her. The fever would rage for many months more, the sickness would slowly destroy her young body. Kagome and Inuyasha would be stuck, trapped by her and her foolish broken heart and the poison of Naraku.
The dream of earlier was the only thing that held her down onto this life, but in the moment, she had forgotten, and would not remember until the time came.
Sango reached over, body screaming in protest, as stiff as a piece of human shapes wood. She snatched the sword Kagome had rested beside her feet, a simple gesture of respect for Sango wishing to have her weapon near her.
She unsheathed it, and paused. The blade gleamed like a thousand tears shed by angels. She licked her lips, and her fingers slid around the handle. Sango sighed, and lay back down carefully.
"Until we meet again…" The demon slayer whispered, and closed her eyes. If she were to look into the reflection of the sword, she would notice she had tears streaming down her ashen cheeks.
Sango raised the sword over her chest slowly, and plunged it into her heart.
And, with a final sigh as blood stained her blanket, she fell asleep once more-this time with no intention of waking up.
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This chapter was sort of difficult to write, more so then the first, as it's more full of facts then poetic metaphors. I did my best, however, and am, pleased with the chapter. There will be a LOT more character development within Inuyasha and Kagome, and Sesshomaru will be introduced shortly. Sango is already coming out quite nicely.
Replies to reviews in next chapter.