Chapter Thirteen

Kagome stopped in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of the familiar red of InuYasha's fire-rat garb. Her eyes widened in surprise to see him standing there, facing him, though she could not yet see his face. Why was he here, and where was Naraku? She realized instantly that just having him here, standing before her, was enough. For the moment. She started forward, eyes wide as she brought her flashlight up to his face.

"InuYasha! I was so worried I wouldn't see…" A gasp escaped, halting the thought on the tip of her tongue. InuYasha, she realized was snarling. Worse yet, she knew without a doubt that he was snarling at her. The flashlight shone in his eyes; Kagome almost dropped it when her gasp became a scream. "InuYasha! What has he done to you?!"

Somewhere from the shadows behind her came a familiar chuckle. Naraku.

"Imprudent wench. Can you not see that I have only given InuYasha exactly what it is he has always desired?"

Fear, then, coursed through her, body and soul, a fear fed by a realization that he had not transformed merely because he did not have Tetsusaiga in his grasp. Kagome was fighting the tears threatening to consume her. "Not like this! InuYasha would never want it to come like this!" Her friend was still snarling; she could see his claws flexing in the dim light that actually did reach him from the flashlight she'd dropped. They were clicking together, a loud, nerve-racking sound.

"Regardless, the day is here," Naraku said coldly. "InuYasha is no longer merely a half-demon. Like myself."

"You'll never get away with this, Naraku…"

"Oh, but dear, foolish bitch, I already have. InuYasha… kill her."

He bolted forward at a frightening speed. Kagome knew there could be no evading him. Instead of crying out and letting her fear consume her, she forced herself to remember that the half-demon at the end of those claws was not the man she'd come to know. Casting her fear aside, she stood straight and tall, puffing her chest out toward him. She surrendered herself to the knowledge that, if this was indeed her fate, there was nothing she could do to change it. She merely waited, trusting in her friend. They had gotten themselves out of worse scenarios in the past. If she could not trust InuYasha to come through for her, who could she trust?

If she was to die, here and now, she would make certain she would be looking into his eyes as he did the deed. Her eyes must be the message. She wanted only to ensure him her forgiveness.

It might not be much, but it was all she could think to give him.

"Sango!" Miroku cried.

He cursed himself for allowing his desire to catch up with Kagome and InuYasha to consume his thoughts and cloud his judgment. He'd thought rushing through the path obviously laid out for them by Kagome—marked by the obvious aura of her sacred arrows—had been a wise idea; he'd never thought to consider an ambush might be waiting for them. Now, Sango was in the hands of the enemy. The monk grit his teeth and considered the space between him and Sango's captor.

It was a strange creature, its face hideously disfigured. Long wings like that of a dragonfly stretched out from the thing's spine. It had to be a dragonfly demon, dangerous, though not as deadly as a Black Widow demon. Whatever it was didn't really matter. It was a horrid beast, and it had Sango in its clutches. His dear friend, the woman he desired more than any woman he had ever met, needed his help now, more than ever.

"Watch as your pathetic wench dies!" the beast growled.

"Sango!" Miroku reached out in desperation as the strange creature tightened its powerful arms about the demon-slayer's waist to ensure she couldn't break free. She continued to struggle, but the thing had tremendous strength, not to mention determination. The mandibles, not unlike those of an insect, sunk into the flesh where her neck and left shoulder met; Sango let out a whimper of pain, helpless to defend herself.

"Nooo!" Miroku made a mad dash for the thing as it continued to hold Sango in its grasp. The mandibles worked dangerously against her flesh, chewing at the soft of her neck; blood spurted across its contorted face. Sango's eyes were glazed over; tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared off at nothing in particular. Miroku bellowed her name once more, grabbing the katana she had dropped when the thing had jumped them, and rushed forward.

The demon tossed Sango aside like a rag doll as it turned gaze on Miroku. The monk raced forward, not caring in the least that he was suddenly the center of attention. Seeing Sango locked in its arms, nearing death with no means of defense infuriated him; to see her cast aside like a piece of meat further ignited a rage within Miroku unlike any he had ever experienced. Suddenly he understood: even if this last clash with evil cost him his life, he would see his girl avenged.

Never let up, he told himself. Isn't that what InuYasha would say?

Damn straight. His anger was his fuel, great enough so that he did not notice the ever-constant ache of his broken arm as he spun about, katana poised to strike, focusing with all his available senses at the demon's hideous face. Momentarily Miroku caught the sight of a swirl of flames overhead; Kirara dropped from the sky and rushed to her friend's aid. His attention was back on the demon without pause as the weapon completed its journey through the dark of the crippled forest, striking a blow that nearly separated the demon's head from its shoulders.

In the moment following the collapse of the corpse, Miroku sunk to his knees, clutching his injured arm. Black blood sprayed from the gaping would in the beast's throat. Gargling its own blood, the thing sunk to its knees. Not wasting a precious second, Miroku ripped a pair of sutra spell scrolls from within his robes and flung them at the retch.

After a sizzle of energy, the thing went still and then crumbled to ashes.

"Sango…" Miroku did his best to push himself to his feet and stumbled over to check on the downed demon-slayer. Immediately his eyes widened. "No, Sango!" He dropped to his knees, eyes bulging. His heart raced as he tried to put reason to the chaos before him.

A small bundle of fur, Kirara, nuzzled the girl's cheek, mewing, pushing her face up, but it only rolled off to the side. Frantic, Kirara mewed again, looking from Miroku to her fallen friend. There was a gaping wound at the base of her neck on the left side, where the demon had bitten her. She was not breathing. In fact, the wound seemed to be festering.

"No…" Miroku cradled his face in his hands, lost in despair.

Kagome surrendered completely to her feelings as InuYasha bounded toward her, lost in a demonic state. There was no escape. Naraku had ensured that he would revert back to his full-demon form. How cruel, how sadistic. She longed to close her eyes; InuYasha's clawed fists reeled back as he prepared to strike. Determined to meet her friend's gaze, to show him her courage, even in the face of death, Kagome forced herself to look upon InuYasha's face.

There was a flash of red in his eyes, clear as day, and time stood still.

A minute passed. Maybe two. The sound of footballs came from a distance, but Miroku paid them no heed. He no longer cared. He could only sit there and stare as Sango died before him. She was not breathing. How could he possibly expect to go on knowing the woman he loved had died before his eyes because his mistakes? His overconfidence? All the while he had promised to help his friends, to be with them when they needed him, and yet he had been too slow.

He was only distantly aware that the footsteps he heard were unfamiliar. The voice that accompanied those footsteps, however, was that of a lost friend. It was a tiny voice, a squealing in terror as it cut through the forest. "Sango!"

Miroku spun to that voice and saw Shippo drop from the shoulders of a gorgeous vixen with captivating green eyes. Her face was young and smooth, with simple and emotionless, yet regal features, as if it had been carved from the finest marble by the hand of the finest carver. Her red hair was long and lush, with a soft sheen even where there was no sun. The deep, blue kimono she wore was dusted with small, violet flowers, tied at the middle with a pale blue obi. The soft satin seemed to flow from her like a gentle breeze over a rippling lake. He knew without hesitation what she was, though he could not believe his eyes. Twin sais were latched to her hips, and she carried a staff tipped with a razor-sharp blade. A full grown woman with a slender yet powerful build, she stared at him for a silent moment, stroking the long, bushy tail, as red as her hair, daintily draped over bare shoulders. So deep and intense was her emerald gaze that Miroku lost himself for a moment, certain that she could change the course of time itself as easily as she drew breath.

Slowly she shifted her steady gaze beyond him, to Sango, and waited.

Shippo froze several paces from the demon-slayer and cried out in terror. "Oh no! Miroku, what happened?!"

The monk shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs and turned back to his beloved Sango, and suddenly his heart shattered all over again. Before he knew it, he saw a flurry of blue satin as the fox demon rushed past him and sunk to her knees beside the demon-slayer. She pressed the index, middle, and ring fingers of her right hand to the right side of Sango's neck, inspecting the festering wound on the left side without touching it.

He almost reached out to snatch her hand, to pull her away from his woman, but he stopped when he saw the determination on her face. She meant no harm, of course; it was foolish to think otherwise. The realization smacked him hard, almost as painful as Sango's Hiraikotsu whenever she though his manners were… inappropriate. Whoever this demon was, she had come to help. That Shippo was with her only reinforced that premise.

"The wound is not beyond my ability to heal," she announced, her voice as velvety smooth as her features. "How long has she been without breath?"

Miroku frowned. "Three minutes, maybe more. There is nothing that can be done."

"Fool. You merely assume her dead," the demon stated. "Perhaps such ignorance shouldn't be unexpected of a mortal."

He gasped at her matter-of-fact tone and snapped, "I'm no healer! As much as I wish her to live, wishing doesn't make it so. Not when you're mortal." He lowered his eyes, shame washing over him. "There is nothing I can do."

"That is true," she said, her tone softening. "As far as her wound is concerned. The breath of life is another matter, but I don't suppose I should expect you to understand that." She slipped her fingers through Sango's bangs, to her forehead. Miroku thought she must be checking for a temperature, so he didn't question her action.

Then she undid the strap and pulled away the front of her demon-slayer armor. Miroku recalled that the armor had been broken in their fall from Kirara the day before, but the thought vanished as he watched the fox demon stroked her hands between Sango's breasts, through the cloth of her undershirt. The vixen closed her eyes, breathing softly, evenly, almost as though she were checking for something. The heartbeat. Miroku decided that must be so.

"Being mortal must be terrible indeed. I doubt I could truly live if I were plagued by your own limited abilities. Such fragile bodies."

Miroku grumbled his understanding, though he watched her hand still working, stroking Sango's perfect, firm breasts, as if she were attempting to massage the heart itself. Whatever it was she was doing for Sango's life, he knew it would be a mistake to stop her for his friend's dignity.

"What are you doing?" Shippo asked. Miroku almost jumped. He'd forgotten his little friend was with them. No one answered his question, of course. No one had the time to explain anything to a kid. The little fox demon folded his arms over his chest and plopped down onto his backside. "Figures," he muttered. "Idiot."

He popped up a second later, his eyes going wide. Miroku's eyes widened as well. The vixen had pinched Sango's nose closed and had pressed her lips over the demon-slayer's open mouth. "What are you doing?!" Shippo demanded.

To Miroku's amazement, Sango's chest rose and fell. He suddenly realized what it was the stranger was attempting to do. The breath of life, she had said.

Suddenly, his respect for the stranger grew considerably.

Her lips parted, but she couldn't find the breath to speak his name. She tried to take his shoulders in her hands, to tell him to snap out of it, that she was here to be with him and everything would be okay, but for some reason, her arms, same as her lungs, refused to work. She could only stand there and stare at him. Her eyelids were growing heavy.

She was comforted by the fact that she could see a familiar face before him, only dimly aware that something had gone horribly wrong. She was mildly surprised when she realized it was InuYasha who stood before her, his arm buried deep into her abdomen, nearly up to his elbow. Funny. She didn't feel any pain.

She forced a little smile. The redness in his eyes had faded away. He was reverting back to his old self. He seemed to be staring back at her in horror. She wondered why. It was a great relief that he was with her. Nothing else mattered. She'd found him. She had gotten to him before Naraku had killed him. They were together.

"Kagome!" he bellowed, clutching her to him. "Kagome! No! Nooo!!!"

Why was he yelling? She was right here, standing in his arms. He didn't need to scream. Then again, to her recollection, that was about all InuYasha ever did. When he wasn't fighting, brooding, or bitching, he was screaming at her. For some reason she found comfort even in that.

She was growing so very tired. Her eyelids drooped even lower. Somehow, she was able to maintain her smile. A little anyway. She tried to tell him that she loved him, that she was glad he had waited for her, but she couldn't find her voice. Odd. She was so weak, she couldn't even draw breath. Maybe a nap was all she needed. All her troubles could wait, couldn't they? Just a quick nap should revitalize her. She hoped InuYasha understood. They could go after Naraku later.

She slumped deeper into his arms, straining with all her might to reach his lips with her own. She was able to plant one last kiss on InuYasha's lower lip before her feet collapsed from under her. The world spun before her before she blacked out. She heard him scream her name one last time.

"KAGOME!!!" Despite the obvious fear in the half-demon's voice, the explosiveness of his cries, Kagome felt at peace with the world around her. Nothing could take this moment from her; it was the most fulfilling moment with InuYasha that she could recall. What an extraordinary feeling.

Her last conscious thought was that of happiness.

She was here, with him, lost for one last eternity in his comforting embrace.