The only thing waiting for her was an endless row of graves.
And somehow Kagome's mind went blank.
She stilled, breath catching, air so very, very dead. There was a haze that hung over the graves, or maybe that was only her, but it seemed that the sun itself refused to touch this land.
Kagome wandered between the rows, skin cold, felt her lips tremble and turn blue. Each step turned more and more into a clumsy stagger, gathering speed before she ran. Passed the named and the unnamed, those marked and those who weren't important enough to be marked. Passed small tree saplings, all planted between the graves, barely clinging to life.
Then her feet stop, barely preventing herself from ruining the upturned soil.
Stepping atop her own friends' grave would be quite the offense, no?