Chapter 12
Crudelius est quam mori semper timere mortem
"It is more cruel to always fear death than to die"
"I say alone, for one who sits by a sleeper is indeed alone;
perhaps more alone than he can realize."
—"The Shunned House"
Three days.
Three.
Fucking.
Days.
She hadn't woken up once.
He was okay with her sleeping the first day after they arrived, well not perfectly okay with it, but it was clear the dark circles under her eyes weren't from bruising, or at least not completely. Her actual black eye was no longer swollen and appeared just bruised, insinuating that it had happened earlier than some of the other marks and wounds.
They'd fucking beat her. If he ever found them—
Sango spoke to her, telling her that they were there with her and would take care of her.
"Why are you talking to her? She's asleep. She can't hear you."
"Kaede told me a while ago that sometimes when people sleep like this because their injured or sick, they say that they can hear things, like people talking." She glanced a look up at him as she smoothed Kagome's bangs away from her face, what she could with the bandages in place anyway. "I want her to know that she's safe and not alone. She'd do the same for any one of us." There was a pause, and he heard Sango take a breath before she spoke, holding it for just a moment. "She talks to you."
"Of course she talks to me. She doesn't shut up."
"When you're injured, she always talks to you." His ears pricked forward, and he stared at Sango as she spoke.
"What does she say?"
"Lots of things. Sometimes she tells you about what happened after a fight. Where we are or what time of day it is. Sometimes she reads her books to you when she's studying." He hadn't—he hadn't known any of that at all. He knew that she took care of him, bandaged him, sometimes stitched his wounds when they were bad enough, but the other—he had no idea. She was almost always awake when he came to.
When she and Miroku left to have dinner at the inn, he moved to her side, picking up her hand and holding it between his own. He licked his lips and frowned.
"Hey," his voice cracked and he cleared it once before attempting to continue. "It's—it's me. Sango and Miroku—they left to get dinner." Her face didn't change, and some part of him was disappointed by that fact. What? Did he really think that she'd wake up just because he was the one talking to her now? "It's—uh—early evening now." If she didn't wake up, what would he do? "I—You're safe, you know. I won't—I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He wanted to curl up around her, reassure himself with her heartbeat under his ear, protect her body with his own, make sure she was warm enough. "Sango said that you might be able to hear us. I didn't want you thinking that I left you alone."
God, he was blabbering on like an idiot.
"Sango's better at this than I am, but she said that it helped. And—I—well, I made you a promise, didn't I? So, I guess that means you get to listen to me ramble on like the stupid monk." He didn't know what else to say, and his mouth opened, but no sound was coming out and he needed to keep talking to her. "Mother died when I was six or seven," he blurted out. "I think." He winced, unsure of himself. Maybe he was older than that? "I was little, but you already knew that. She spent a lot of time trying to teach me to read and write, and she would give me an entire plate of mochi if I behaved well enough for the tutors." He gave a small smile at the memory. "She always kept camilla flowers in her room, so that smell always reminds me of her. I haven't practiced writing in a while. She'd probably be upset if I forgot how."
He stared at her bandaged wrists and the memory soured in his head.
"I still visit her grave. They buried her outside the castle walls. It was an insult to her, but I suppose it backfired on them, fuckers." He cleared his throat and loosened his hold on her hand a little. "The castle was burned to the ground in a raid; all the graves were demolished or the stones were marred and unreadable. It was a dick move, but—" he shrugged, "they didn't touch hers because it was behind the castle. They didn't know it was there. They were already gone by the time the fire went out."
He'd curled up against her headstone while the castle was being ransacked and destroyed, trying to find some comfort amidst the screams and death rattles that his sensitive ears could pick up. He remembered the calls for help and how some of the staff begged for mercy only to be killed a moment later. He remembered his small hands digging his nails into his scalp to cover his ears, humming his mother's lullaby to himself as he cried into her grave where grass had only just started to cover the upturned earth. Briefly he wondered if he even remembered the melody that she used to sing and hum whenever he was tired or upset.
He realized his thumb was rubbing along her bandaged knuckles and paused briefly before continuing the movement. Maybe it would bring them both some comfort. If she could hear, she should be able to feel too.
Cautiously, he bumbled through the melody, humming softly as he tried to remember the melody his own mother sang to him. He didn't remember the words, a few phrases here and there, but not even an entire line. It made him a little sad. It felt like he was forgetting part of his mother.
They sat in silence, his quiet humming breaking the stillness, until Sango and Miroku returned from dinner, but he continued to rub her hand or shifted to brush her cheek with the back of a curled finger, just so she knew that she wasn't ever alone.
He moved so that Sango could have her spot again and, when night fell, she took her spot next to Kagome. Miroku sat next to him, patting his shoulder.
Why did everyone do that?
"The healer said that he'd be back later tomorrow morning to take care of her bandages." She brushed her forehead, hesitated, and then pressed her hand more firmly against her skin.
"What? What is it?" Inuyasha asked, eyes flicking between Sango's hand and her face.
"She's a little warm."
"Keh. She's been cold to the touch this entire time."
"You're probably right. I'm probably worrying over nothing."
"We are all on edge, but it would be a good idea to keep an eye out to make sure it doesn't get any worse. Perhaps, Inuyasha, you would consider making a trip to the river to get some fresh water before we bed down for the night?"
He stood without response and took the bucket to the river. The sun was almost completely set beyond the horizon, making the landscape dim to the eye.
He crouched down next to the river and dipped the bucket into the water, watching it fill; it was cool to the touch. Kagome didn't smell sick, but there was so much else happening, so many herbs and salves, that her scent was muddled. He could still smell the lingering scent of those men, making his nose wrinkle when he caught it.
But a sickness now could be life threatening for her. She was too weak. Not to mention that her urine was practically brown and smelled foul. While piss wasn't exactly something pleasant to stick his nose in, this was gut-roiling foul. The healer said that she was merely dehydrated, but he doubted that was the entire truth. He had a feeling that this was something worse.
When he returned, there was the distinct feeling that he'd missed something crucial. He raised an eyebrow at how the conversation lulled when he stepped inside, and how Miroku cleared his throat and turned, smiling at Inuyasha.
"I suppose we should go to bed. I will sleep in the other room. Should we take shifts?"
"I'll stay awake. I don't need sleep like you lot."
"Of course, but I do know that you haven't slept in days," Miroku countered.
"Keh. I still need a fraction of the sleep you two need."
Sango sighed.
"Fine, you take the first half. I'll take the second," Sango stated, warning of no argument.
"I'll take the second," Miroku countered, putting up his hands before Sango could argue. "Kagome needs you during the day. I can take the night shift. We'll wake you if we need you. Agreed?"
"Fine," she stretched out next to Kagome, curling her arm under her head. "I'm going to bed."
Kirara curled up just under Sango's chin, and she curled her free arm around the small cat.
Inuyasha took the first shift happily with little intent for waking Miroku for his own shift. He didn't need sleep like the humans. He could handle being tired. He could handle exhaustion. He'd done it before and in worse circumstances. He could handle this for a few more days. Besides, she'd be awake tomorrow and everything would be fine. Everything would be fine.
Miroku, however, woke early into the morning, sitting up against the wall.
"Go to sleep, Inuyasha," he muttered, clearing his throat of sleep.
"Keh."
"Go to sleep," Miroku urged, and he scoffed again. "You may not need much sleep, but you do need some." His voice was low, barely a whisper, but he knew that
Inuyasha heard.
Inuyasha settled back against the wall, resting his chin against his chest. Despite his best intentions, complete and utter exhaustion won and he dozed for a bit.
A small cough woke him, jolting him back to the present. Miroku was already draping a wet cloth over her forehead.
"She's coughing?" He asked, keeping his voice low. He watched Miroku jerk just a little bit at the sudden sound of his voice.
"Started after you nodded off." He paused. "I'm also pretty sure she has a fever. Nothing extreme." Inuyasha sat upright from his position against the wall.
"Should we—" He started to ask, but Miroku shook his head, cutting him off.
"We should let her sleep. She's exhausted too."
Inuyasha grunted in acknowledgment. They would let her sleep, even though neither of them would.
Kagome's cough grew wetter sounding, raspier, and Miroku replaced her rag more frequently. By the time the light broke through the sky, it was a struggle for him to stay still, leg bouncing against the floor as his anxiety grew. Sango woke at her usual time, and she immediately asked how Kagome was doing.
"She's developed a cough, and her fever is worse," Miroku explained, and Sango frowned, glancing between the two of them.
"Why didn't you wake me?" She placed a hand against Kagome's sternum, just under the yukata they'd changed her into yesterday afternoon. Her brows furrowed and she clearly was not happy with what she felt.
"You need sleep," Inuyasha commented, eyes focused solely on the girl on the floor. "Like Miroku said."
"Inuyasha, you do listen!"
The hanyou snapped his eyes at him, glaring at the monk who dared to make a joke.
Inuyasha fetched fresh water, and some fish from the river for them to cook for breakfast. Inuyasha could barely finish the fish he'd pulled off the fire. It made his gut churn in more than one way and he feared retching if he ate any more.
The healer, the asshole, finally showed up, kicking him out the room with a guttural, "Go, dog."
"Any changes?" He asked and Sango filled him in on the coughing and the fever. "Let's change the bandages and see if there's anything else."
Inuyasha leaned against the wall and listened intently, ears pivoted in the direction of Kagome's prone form. Miroku stood beside him, arms crossed as he watched the hanyou's expression.
"Do you see anything?" Sango asked.
"Her shoulder is infected. I was afraid of this. It explains the fever though. We'll have to open it and clean it again." Inuyasha let out a low growl as he listened to the man grunt in his work. The smell of her blood made him snarl. A deep, wet cough racked through her pale frame. He could practically see her body jerk and spasm from it.
"There," he said finally. We'll check on it again this evening."
"What should we do about her cough?" Sango asked, and Inuyasha turned his head towards them slightly, wincing as another cough escaped Kagome.
There was a quiet sigh that escaped him.
"We should focus on the fever for the moment. The cough is probably just a byproduct of it." He could hear the sound of him rummaging through his baskets and giving Sango instructions for herbs to give Kagome and at what times. "Try to keep her as cool as you can. Even with the herbs, there might not be any improvement until tomorrow. I will be back later this afternoon to check on her progress." He stood and passed through the curtain, eyes flickering over Inuyasha but nodding at Miroku. As soon as he was out of the building, Inuyasha swept inside the room and grabbed the bucket.
"I'm going for water," he said and darted back out before anyone could say anything.
Shoving the bucket under the surface, he found himself longing for the familiarity of Kaede's hut and her knowledge. She would know what to do and wouldn't kick him out of the hut for being there. Wouldn't think, or even consider the possibility, that he was capable of hurting her.
Reentering the room, Sango and Miroku were both sitting on the same side of Kagome, facing the doorway.
He dropped the bucket next to Sango and took a seat opposite of them. Sango replaced the rag across her forehead, and Inuyasha quietly wrapped his fingers around her still ones. None of them made a comment. He needed physical contact. He need to be touching her to reassure himself that she was here, alive, tangible.
When the healer returned that afternoon, there had been no improvement, which he was not surprised by nor overtly concerned about, and this irked Inuyasha enough that he refused to actually learn or remember the man's name. Maybe when Kagome woke up. It would probably be the first thing she asked about. Would also probably make him go pick flowers or some shit as a token of thanks.
And he'd do it too, which also pissed him off because he knew that he couldn't say no to her. Not really say no.
"Her shoulder is still seeping," he noted, instructing Sango over the herbs.
"Is that the cause of her fever? Because of the infection?"
"Probably."
"You don't sound convinced," Miroku added from his place next to Inuyasha, his voice raised to be heard.
"Medicine is a complicated thing. Lots of causes, lots of probabilities. Not quite so easy to figure out what causes what sometimes. You understand," the healer added.
"The priestess is weak and anything is going to affect her more harshly than it would a healthy individual. That is all."
Kagome let out a rattling cough, and there was a pause as they all listened to his response.
"Is there something we can do about her cough?"
The sound of rummaging grew, and he clearly handed Sango something.
"Rub this on her chest. It will help her expel some of the fluid. But it won't subside until we break the fever." He stood and gathered his things. "I will be back late tomorrow morning. I have matters to attend to."
Once he left, they all returned to their previous positions surrounding her. Miroku muttered a soft prayer as they sat, and Inuyasha picked her hand up to hold in his own.
They sat like that in the quiet until Miroku and Sango left for dinner, and when they returned, they began the ritual of watching over her.
By the third morning, there had been no improvement. If anything, she was worse. The fever was raging, and she was visibly sweating now. They'd worked through the night to make sure that she was getting as much water as they could safely feed her. Inuyasha held her, and Miroku slowly fed her the water through a small bowl. Her cough was wetter and more frequent. Inuyasha could hear the soft rattle in her lungs as she breathed.
The healer had come and made little comment about her declining health. Inuyasha paced in the small building, gritting his teeth as the healer brushed off Sango's concerns. His youki flared without his permission, and Miroku's head snapped up to look at him.
"Inuyasha?" He asked quietly.
"'m fine." His teeth were still bared, but he had it back under control. Miroku raised an eyebrow, but he watched him pace restlessly. Kagome's hacking led to a whistling intake of breath. His ears pinned back against his head at the sound of her struggle to breathe. His eyes darted to Miroku, silently pleading for him to talk some sort of sense into the healer who obviously didn't really care if she lived or died.
Miroku stood, moving to pat Inuyasha's shoulder lightly.
"I will speak to him," he whispered.
The healer took his leave, and Miroku made sure to catch him before he left, walking out the door, but staying within earshot.
"I am concerned about my friend's health," Miroku stated. "Your demeanor appears somewhat—" he paused and Inuyasha could envision the subtle wave of his hand. "Unconcerned about her recovery."
"I assure you, lord monk, I am doing everything I can to ensure the survival of your priestess." He shifted in the dirt. "You know I have my own concerns regarding her inugami."
"And I can assure you that we will all be upset should her care be found lacking," Miroku added. "But Inuyasha most of all."
"The inugami?"
There was a noise of assent from Miroku.
"I have a strong medicine that I have been brewing. It should be close to ready tomorrow. I will bring it then. Other than that, I will see you this evening to check on her."
"We will see you then."
Inuyasha turned into the room, and Sango's head snapped up look at him.
"I'm going to go get more water," she said, pulling Kagome's yukata tighter around her chest. "You'll stay here?"
"Yeah, course."
She went out the door, and Inuyasha sat in the quiet. The sound of a soft wheezing, whistling intake of breath the only noise in the room.
The day was long and Kagome's health only continued to disintegrate. Her wheezing rattle was audible to everyone. Her coughing more frequent, and she began to spit up a brown viscous liquid that stained her lips. Sango kept dabbing at her mouth with a rag, and Inuyasha had made several trips back to the river to get cool fresh water.
Her skin was pale, and her lips were chapped to the point of bleeding. He knew that she was fighting, but he could tell. It wasn't enough. She wasn't strong enough.
In the end, it was all his fault, all on his hands.
He wasn't strong enough, fast enough. He wasn't enough to save her. That was the reality. Now, her mortality was killing her, and there was nothing he could do.
It was his mother all over again.
Something made his hair stand on end, and it had to do with her. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was though, but it was nagging him to do something.
"Inuyasha?" Sango asked, and that's when he realized that he was growling.
Kagome's fingers twitched, and it was the most life he'd seen out of her since she was found.
"Kagome?" He asked. Her arm spasmed, rising up off the ground.
"Kagome?" Sango echoed, rising to knees to look over her. Miroku leaned towards her as well.
Maybe he was wrong.
Her leg moved as well, and Inuyasha was staring at her, eyes and ears focused on every movement she made.
Her head lolled to the side, mouth parted, and it was the sound of her teeth clicking together that told him something terrible loomed on the immediate horizon.
"Miroku, go find the healer," Inuyasha ordered. When Miroku hesitated, he shouted, "Now!"
Miroku scrambled, tearing out the door and down the path.
"Inuyasha? What is it?" Sango asked.
"Something's wrong," he ground out.
Kagome's back arched off the ground, and another sound of her teeth snapping together. Another cough sent blood and the brown fluid out of her mouth.
"Dammit! She's biting her tongue!"
And then the thrashing started. Inuyasha quickly straddled her hips, using his body weight to subdue her. He shoved his fingers into her mouth, pinning her tongue under his fingertips as her jaw clenched shut again, digging her teeth into his flesh. He grimaced, trying to hold her still without damaging her further. Sango moved to pin Kagome's head between her knees and hold her shoulders down so she didn't pull on her stitches as much. Her teeth kept gnashing into his fingers until they finally broke the skin. His blood ran into her mouth and he figured that it was the least of their worries right now.
Sango was crying her name, trying to calm her.
"What the fuck is going on?" Inuyasha shouted. "Where's the damn asshole?!"
"Inuyasha, your fingers!"
"I'm fine. Better than her biting off her own damn tongue!"
The two of them struggled to restrain her without breaking her stitches or causing her further injury. Her left arm kept curling up next to his thigh, fingers curling into a strangely shaped loose fist.
"Where the fuck is he?!" Inuyasha shouted.
Kagome gave one final hard thrash as the healer entered in a rush.
"What are you doing to her?" He shouted, rushing to her side, trying to push Inuyasha away from her but unsuccessful in the attempt.
"We were afraid that she was going to hurt herself. She bit her tongue," Sango explained quickly. There were a few small convulsions, hard jerks and snappish movements, that followed before she went completely still again. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, noting that she'd bit nearly down to the bone. Impressive but concerning. He climbed off her with a snarl, sitting beside her. "She's been coughing up this brown liquid all morning."
Inuyasha caught the sight of his tensing before nodding.
"Yes, well, it's not a bad thing. Just means she's getting the fluid out of her lungs."
Inuyasha didn't have to smell it to know that he was lying. He could read it in the subtle tenseness and the short glances he kept sending his way. The man knew that something was wrong and wasn't saying a word.
"In fact, if you will accompany me monk, slayer. I have some medicine for her at my hut."
"Inuyasha, you'll be okay?" Sango asked, a hand on his shoulder.
He gave a curt nod and both she and Miroku left, leaving him alone. Something was wrong, and the healer knew it. He was keeping them all in the dark on purpose. Probably trying to convince the others to off him or send him away. That's been his prerogative the entire time they'd been here. He was borderline considering killing something to get Kaede here. But there was no way that he was going to leave Kagome unattended with that bastard nearby, and there wasn't enough time to get Kaede here. The trek was too long. Even if he had left days ago, it still would've been too long.
She remained still, the rattle in her chest slightly softer after her ordeal.
"Kagome," he murmured, drawing her hand up as he leaned down to kiss her wrapped knuckles. "I'm sorry."
He needed her to be better. He needed her to wake up, hear her voice. To be honest, he just needed her.
She coughed, brown fluid spitting out of her mouth, trickling down her cheek. He grabbed the damp rag, tilting her head to wipe it away and then gently wiped her chapped lips. She swallowed almost reflexively, and Inuyasha grabbed the small bowl, dipped it in the water, and cradled her head in his hand as he poured the water into her mouth. That stuff smelled foul, it must taste like that too. She drank the entire bowl, making the corners of his lips raise ever so slightly.
"You gonna wake up anytime soon? Or are you just going to lay around all day, lazy girl?" That had been a fight of theirs not too long ago. He accused her of being lazy, and she promptly yelled and sat him an unacceptable number of times. "If I say enough things to piss you off, are you going to wake up just to yell at me?" He casually rubbed his cheek against the back of her hand. No one was here. No one could hear him. No one could stop him. "It's the only thing that we haven't tried yet."
The words, which normally came so easily to him, insults always did, failed him. He couldn't say it. He always did either because of his own stupidity or because he wanted to see her angry. She was the one person not afraid of him in any capacity. She wasn't afraid to go toe to toe with him, yell back, yank his hair, whatever she thought was fair. It was refreshing in a way.
"Inuyasha?" Miroku called as he walked in. Inuyasha quickly put her hand back on the blankets before he could see.
"What?" He barked. Miroku entered alone, empty handed. "Where's Sango?"
"Huh? Oh, she's—she'll be here shortly. She went to the river to freshen up." He stepped inside, and he could feel the insecurity radiating off the monk.
"What happened?" He asked curtly. He let go of her hand, letting it fall from his grip and land lightly back on the blankets.
"I—I don't—It's not—" Miroku stuttered through attempt to speak coherently. Odd and unsettling. "Kagome is ill."
"No shit. Healer tell you that or did you figure it out on your own?" He sneered, and Miroku shook his head. Inuyasha noticed the tremble in his hand. "Miroku? What did he say? Where is Sango?"
"She needed a moment to compose herself."
"What did he tell you?" Inuyasha reached for her hand again. "Tell me!"
"Kagome isn't doing well." Inuyasha restrained himself from interrupting at the obvious statement. "What happened this afternoon, with the cough, and the fever, they're signs that—"
"Stop," Inuyasha stopped him. "Outside." He stood, pulling the monk by his robes outside the doorway where Kagome couldn't hear them. Miroku cleared his throat.
"She's not getting better, is she?"
"No." Miroku sighed. "He had his suspicions earlier but didn't want to upset us."
"How long?"
"Given how things are progressing, he said probably later tonight." A hand on his shoulder. "Inuyasha, I'm sorry. We tried everything."
"There's nothing left?"
"We've already asked. Sango is—She's already threatened him to tell her how to fix it. Practically threw him across the hut." Inuyasha tried to smother the small amount of glee at that.
"And you?"
Another sigh.
"I love her too, you know. Not like you do, but she's the closest to family that some of us have now." He rubbed his face. "What do you need from us?"
Inuyasha turned at that question and walked back to the room at the sound of her cough. He needed to take care of her. What little time there was left. No supernatural or mystical force here. Just mortality. There was nothing that he could fight to make it better. There was no cure for death.
It really was his mother all over again. Human frailty, mortality, all of it thrown back into his face.
He'd sit here beside her the entire time too.
All the way to the end.
Just like his mother.
Evening came and went. The healer didn't make an appearance. Inuyasha was okay with that.
Night fell, and they waited. There was less and less of the brown fluid each time she coughed. He wanted to believe that it was a good thing. They fed her water as often and as much as she could handle. It seemed to relax her.
He was so fucking tired. His body ached like he'd pushed himself too hard. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open, but he wasn't going to sleep while she struggled.
He would suffer with her.
They all sat, waiting and waiting for the inevitable.
The sun rose.
She kept breathing.
And he swore, as the hours passed that the rattle was lessening.
His body though, felt like he'd run the entire country while submerged in Naraku's miasma. His muscles ached and burned, and his lungs felt like they were trying to breathe through sand. It felt like he'd been buried alive.
"Inuyasha?" Sango asked, eyes narrowing as she took in his form. He looked up at her, growling.
"Are you alright?" Miroku asked him and he bared his fangs at the monk.
"Fine, just leave me alone!" His youki pulsed around him, making him grit his teeth.
"What is going on?" Miroku asked.
"The crests," Sango said, raising a hand to trace her own cheekbone. They'd said he had marks on his cheeks when he transformed.
"Your eyes are turning red," Miroku whispered, though he didn't move away from the half demon. "Why are you changing?"
"I don't know, alright?!" He snarled, feeling the longer fangs trip up his speech a little. "I don't know why!" His youki pulsed again, not as hard, but the flush of energy at least made it easier to breathe.
"You're sweating. Are you sick?" Sango looked halfway ready to reach out and feel his forehead too.
"Demon's don't get sick!"
"But you're half-human too."
"Glad you finally noticed, Miroku."
"Could you stop being an ass for one second?! We are worried! Kagome would be worried too!"
He snarled at that, body jerking as he wanted to backpedal away from the monk, but his body wouldn't let him move. It kept him rooted so firmly that he fell forward, hands slapping the ground. Why wasn't anything doing what he wanted?
Kagome's fingers twitched, just a flicker of movement in his vision, but he saw it. It didn't mean anything. His mother moved some right before she passed. Death throes is all. The human body's last attempt at life. She wasn't getting better, no matter what he wanted to believe. And he wanted it. He wanted it so badly it bordered on a physical pain.
But there was something shifting in her. He could feel it. Something in him stirred as it rose. God, when had it become so hot in this room?
A soft trill came just before Kirara's soft weight landed on his shoulder. He turned his head softly to look at her. She mewed, then gently ran the top of her head against his cheekbone.
"Miroku, feel her forehead," Sango said suddenly. Sango's hand rested at the base of her throat, pressing against her chest.
He frowned, brows furrowed. Monk better keep his hands in appropriate places.
"What?" He snapped. "What is it?"
"She's cooler." He pressed his hand along her cheek and then the sides of her throat. "Is her fever breaking?" His ears pricked forward at the question.
"She hasn't been coughing as much," Sango added. "What do we do?"
"Wait and hope that our prayers have been answered." Miroku settled back with a glance towards Inuyasha who relaxed some, even though his body still didn't want to part from her.
The healer didn't come to visit until later that afternoon. His intent clearly being to allow them time to grieve.
"Lord monk," the healer said from his position in the doorway, clearly hesitant on entering. "I assume that—"
"She's alive, you fucking asshole," Inuyasha growled.
"What?" The shock evident in his voice, though he didn't seem to make any attempts to mask it.
"Kagome has always been one to defy the odds," Miroku said, standing.
"You don't understand. She should be dead."
"But the fever broke earlier, and her coughing has stopped," Sango added.
"That's not possible. No one comes back from that point." The healer took a step into the room.
"Her fingers have been moving too. And she's been drinking more water."
"What dark magic did you use to bring her back?" The healer accused. "What did the inugami do?"
"I didn't do a fucking thing to her, you fucker!" Inuyasha's legs kept him firmly planted on the floor next to Kagome, frustrating him to no end. He wanted to go and slice him from navel to throat, that's what he wanted, but his body wouldn't listen.
"Move!" The healer said, shoving him to the side, even as he yelped his indignation, the healer began checking her, feeling for her pulse, checking her breathing. "Get out of my ward. I need to check her."
"I'm not leaving! You're the one who left her to die!" Inuyasha countered.
"Inuyasha, let him work. Sango will be here," Miroku soothed, grabbing his arm and hauling him forcibly from the room, closing the curtain behind them.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Inuyasha shouted, the rage of his own blood rushing in his ears.
"Inuyasha, calm down and just listen."
He took a steadying breath, trying to calm his already frazzled nerves. It was hard enough to be apart from her. Not when she was so close to the end. Not when she was so close to death and destruction.
"I don't believe it," the healer whispered, and Inuyasha turned his head.
"Is she getting better?" Hope reigned in Sango's question. She wanted it to be true, and so did he.
"What sort of magic did you use? What did you do? She was hours away from death. Hours. We should be burying her."
"Stop talking like that!" Sango finally shouted. "Is she dying?"
"No?"
"Then either help or go away!" Sango's anger was a force to be reckoned with, though it took quite a bit to get her to that point. But even he could admit that they were all exhausted from the previous—God, how long had it been?—Almost two weeks?
"Perhaps we should—"
Miroku was caught off by the sound of a familiar scream that was choked off. Inuyasha ripped the curtain away, grabbing the healer away from her by the neck and slamming him against the wall.
"What did you do?!" He roared, baring his fangs.
"I did nothing!" He gasped, hands wrapping around the arms at his throat. "Please!"
He could hear Kagome crying as Sango tried to shush and calm her.
"Let him go, Inuyasha," Miroku said.
"She's just startled," Sango added, turning back to Kagome and attempting to quiet her cries. His ears pinned back, but he forced his fingers to release, letting the man collapse onto the floor in front of him.
"Go." The healer didn't question the command, scrambling to his feet and out of the hut without another word. He turned slowly towards the sound of her crying and swallowed. Hard. Kagome clutched at Sango's shoulder blades, twisted in a way that had to be hurting her ribs, her face buried into Sango's shoulder. He watched as her form shuddered with each sob. Sango's arms were wrapped around her as well, and he could hear her own muffled cries.
His body felt lighter than it had in days, and he felt his fingers twitch. He wanted to hold her. Tear her away from Sango's grip and press his nose into her hair, make sure what he was seeing was real. If it wasn't, he didn't know if he wanted to leave. He could stay here, where Kagome was alive and healing and—he could be happy here.
Kagome's grip went slack shortly after, and she slumped against Sango's form. The slayer lifted her head slightly, looking at the two men standing on the same side of the room, tears still running down her cheeks.
"She woke up," she choked out in a half-sob, half-laugh. Miroku made a similar sound, moving to help Sango lower Kagome back into the bedding. She sniffled a bit, clearing her voice before speaking. "She'll want a bath. Is there somewhere we can take her?"
"I'll ask around, see if there's a bathhouse. Must be one in a town this size. Inuyasha, do you want to come with?"
The hanyou turned towards the monk, staring at him for a moment before turning back to Kagome.
"No, I—I'll stay."
"Very well."
He took a seat against the wall, sliding down as his legs seemed to collapse under his weight.
They sat in silence and listened to the clear breaths of her lungs.
When she woke again, it was early evening. Inuyasha was returning after fetching another round of water for drinking and using for cleaning. Sango was wiping her face with a damp cloth. He was in the doorway when he heard Sango speak.
"Inuyasha should be back soon. He went to get some water." A slight pause. "He's excited to see you, too."
"I can't—not him," she rasped. "Please, not him."
"Kagome," Sango chided.
He didn't need to hear anymore. He dropped the buckets inside the room, barely moving the curtain and disappeared into the trees.
