A/N: I decided to update a little early (I will still be updating Sunday), because I'd love to get this fic completely cranked out before the loss of my computer for two weeks or more. Since I already had this and the next chapter written, and I know my immenent procrastination for actual school papers will kick in this weekend (which means I will definitely have Wednesday's chapter finished, as well), I thought...why not?

I do realize these updates are getting more and more depressing. But...well, we all knew this part was coming. The story probably (-coughs- definitely) won't be getting any happier until it's the story branching from this one (Intertwined). For those of you who are wondering, there will be quite a few characters playing a large role in this, even though the 'main' character is an OC: Naraku, Miroku's grandfather, Kaede, Sesshoumaru, Kanna, Kagura, and (eventually) Inuyasha. The fic will span over more than 50 years, but will focus on certain parts.

This update is short, but there will be another longer one on Sunday. ;) Enjoy!

Word Count: 540

Warnings: I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to say this chapter is grotesque; however, it's the most descriptive I've ever gone when speaking of injuries. (Because of my own weak stomach I don't feel that it's very descriptive even at that, but I felt the warning would be nice - just in case.)

The Fire

Onigumo's eye cracked open just as the sun began to rise, though he laid in silence for the moments that followed. There was something peaceful about the first moments of the day, when his men were asleep and he could just be.

He wasn't a leader, or a follower, or a bandit, or a runaway—he was just himself, which seemed like a rare instance these days.

Suppressing a groan at his first companion's loud awakening, Onigumo forced himself up, propping himself on his elbow to look at him. Jiro gave him a toothy grin, and Onigumo just shook his head as his eyes fell on the rest of his sleeping men, knowing the silence was not long in being broken.

His notion was proven right upon Takashi's awakening; seconds later, Takashi was up and shaking the rest of the men, eager to get going.

He is way too chipper in the mornings, Onigumo begrudgingly thought. He didn't have a chance to dwell on this, though, since suddenly he was the only person remaining on the ground.

With a longsuffering sigh, he got up, grabbing his meager belongings and giving his men a wide—however forced—grin.

He was growing tired of this life.

With that rather enlightened thought in mind, he turned and pressed on to the next village they would plunder.

His mind was racing as he looked around for his men, unable to find them in the thick of the smoke. It had all happened so suddenly that there was no escaping—and no gathering the lot of them together. Onigumo was at the edge of the village, escape in sight, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

In all reality, he didn't care about half the men in his entourage. But there was one he would never forgive himself if he left behind, and that was Takashi.

Takashi had fully accepted him, treated him as an equal, and then left with him when he had decided to gather his own group of bandits. He just couldn't bring himself to escape to safety alone.

He didn't have a chance at finding him; his unfortunate lack of an inuyoukai's sight and smell hindered him in that area. He was so imperfectly human, and he had always been a human when he thought otherwise. Perhaps he was strong, but how strong is strong when it's only human strength? Since finding out, he'd seen himself as weak—and he knew that, at this moment, he'd give anything to be strong. Like a youkai.

When he finally did stumble into Takashi's location, it was too late. The smell of burning flesh was strong even to Onigumo's human nose, and when the smoke cleared just enough for him to see that it was, in fact, Takashi, he had to cover his mouth to keep from vomiting.

He was long beyond saving, and Onigumo turned and ran straight into the flames. To get somewhere—anywhere—from that place.

Soon, the smell of his own burning flesh caught his nose, skin so numb he hadn't even realized he'd been burning.

Onigumo collapsed, and as his consciousness slipped away, he thought he might've felt the pull of another to rescue him from the flames.

End Note: Well, as I mentioned in the author's note-we all knew this was coming, eventually. Doesn't make it any less sad (especially at the loss of Onigumo's only friend... -sighs- I liked him, too...), but it was all necessary. ...In my mind, anyway. ;)

Please do review!