The end of the war

Defeated bleary eyes stared right into stoic ones, this war; it is already lost to her ... to him. Earlier that day, he came up to her, looking as rigid and cold as he always used to be.

"Wash up, dress in these" he sounded hollow, but even behind this hollowness, this apathy, she felt like something has broken.

He walked right out of the tent, giving her no time to ask for anything.

The garments he brought were so beautiful, lavish and intricate, ceremonious. He even brought rosewater of the finest quality and the best of smell, Kohl and balm …

When he came back, she was already done. He looked at her longly … the longest he had ever looked that she was taken off guard, she was frozen in place, still though his eyes they showed nothing, his looks were ...

"Come with me" he gestured, and she strode out.

She found an entourage, a cohort of his guards ready to escort them.

Her heart clenched, she could only assume the worst

'Is he thinking about a forcib..'

She tried to look unfazed, she will never allow this, nor will she agree, but really will her voice be heard? Does it have any meaning, any weight in those circumstances?

However, what she didn't count on was them making their way to the other side, the other camp where her kins, her allies reside.

"What ..."

"You were right, Kikyou. This has to end, this war"

Her eyes widened and all the words dissipated in her mouth. After all this time, all this pain, he just gives her up so anticlimactically, so simply.

What was she thinking? How is it she is thinking like that? That was her opportunity, her chance to be free again, be it what it is, how it is …

But …

Instinctively, her hands struck him across his face, right where the edges of his old scars were visible and she held his helms, shaking him, to his very core mumbling strings of incoherent words: bereavements, thoughts and insults … staring right into his eyes ..

"Shh … It is time for you to go home"

He held onto her forearms, forcing her to release her grip onto his garbs

Right from across Sesshomaru, Inuyasha and a group of their soldiers were waiting … ready with her ransom, ready to receive her … watching from a far with a mixture of vigilance and curiosity at the scene unfolding.

The remnants of the sane voice inside her head told her it is time to recompose, she had to and in an instant she did.

He looked again; she resembled a bride, an angel, such a beautiful remarkable young woman ... always within himself, never within his reach.

'How lovely would it have been, if this fantasy could last'

He stared back at her, one last time, he resolved. This farewell, turned out was much messier than they both anticipated.

"Goodbye, Kikyou" he gently pulls her towards him, in an embrace, momentarily oblivious to all the incredulous looks he is being given, all the lividness of the other side, all the hurt between them.

Then he broke away from her, retreating to the back lines while Bankotsu marched forwards, waiting for the ransom to be transferred.

She advanced towards the other side, still in a haze, a trance of everything that she has been through.

And as they both drifted apart, a stray tear fell from both their eyes.