Chapter 32
Amicitiae nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore
"I hope that memory of our friendship will be everlasting."


"When I speak of home,
I speak of the place where—
in default of a better—
those I love are gathered together;
and if that place were a gypsy's tent,
or a barn, I should call it by the
same good name notwithstanding."
Nicholas Nickleby


It was dark and quiet. Silent almost. But she was lying down and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out how she got there. She couldn't remember anything, in fact. She did remember the pain though. She remembered how bad it hurt, the tightness of the fingers around her heart. She remembered that, but she didn't remember anything else.

And that scared her.

Maybe she was dead?

It felt like she should have died.

It was so quiet, and dark, and painful.

Maybe she was dead after all.

She didn't know where she was, and it was so dark it became impossible to tell one thing from the other in the distinctive darkness. Her body felt like all the blood in it had been replaced with iron and lead; it weighted her down, threatening to drag her through the floor and into hell itself.

Is this all that was waiting for her in the afterlife? Maybe it was because Kikyo did whatever it was to her.

Right. She was cursed, and maybe this was the side effect. A side effect.

Maybe this is what it felt like for the souls that she consumed.

No light. No hope. Just darkness.

Eternal quiet and loneliness.


She went back in forth from darkness to darkness.

In one, she felt clawed hands holding her gently.

In another, she could hear him whisper to her, telling her that he was there. She was safe. To wake up.

And finally, in another, she was left to drift, aimless, without form, dreaming of things, of people that were no longer attainable or within her reach.

Each darkness was different from the last and continued to be so.


The air felt too thin now, and she curled her hands into fists as she tried to breathe normally. Her lungs were too small to take in the amount of air that she needed to survive.

She'd die. She was dying.

Maybe this was it. This was the moment when she finally ran out of luck, and Kikyo got what she wanted all along.

Her chest burned as she tried in inhale something, anything of merit and value.

"Kagome," his voice cut through the dark and the silence. "Calm down. You're safe."

Her eyes snapped towards him, or where she thought he was. It was close, closer than he'd been to her in weeks. He sounded like she could just reach her hand out and touch him. Just stretch her arm out and feel him under her fingers. It felt like before and she wanted it so badly but there was a—a thing between them.

"You're safe," he repeated, and the sound of his voice broke her amazement of his proximity. It sounded—he sounded like—like it was a command to the universe itself.

She was safe, and everything would be forced to obey him.

Lifting her head, she got an arm underneath herself, pushing her up and away from the blankets. Why was he here? Did he want to be here? Did he actually want to be around her?

The realization that he might not is strong and harsh. Brutal in its effectiveness of killing what little hope she had left, splattering across the remains of her heart, what little pieces were left and had not been crushed by Kikyo's cruel reach.

This was real and not a dream, right?

If it was a dream, it was cruel and heartless, and she couldn't envision her own head coming up with something so miserable. Maybe it was Kikyo punishing her for not dying like she was supposed to. Kagome could, very rarely, do anything right it seemed. Dying seemed to be something that she just couldn't get right after all this time.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, shifting her body so that she could prepare to leave.

"What for?" He asked, and if she'd tried to look at him, she knew that his head would be tilted slightly in confusion. His arms would be crossed over his chest.

She needed to go. She needed to leave before she made things worse. Before she said and revealed something so devastating that he really hated her. She had his disgust now, but she couldn't take his hate.

Lightning flashed, and for an instant, light filled the room; she saw the outline of him, his eyes glowing in the night before it faded and the dark returned.

"Because you obviously drew the short straw," she continued, getting her legs underneath her. They felt like rubber or jelly or something else equally spineless, and she was pretty sure that they wouldn't support her, but she wasn't going to force him to bear her presence. She wasn't going to force him, when she knew that deep down, he didn't want to be there with her.

"What're you talking about?" He asked and normally, normally, he would reach out and touch her, stop her from leaving. But he wasn't doing that, and she couldn't see well enough to tell what was emotion his ears were giving away.

It was dark, and it hid everything from her.

But the lack of a hand restraining her, keeping her in place, asking her to stay with him, that was all that she needed to hear. It was all she needed for confirmation of her beliefs. If she wanted to leave, he wasn't going to stop her. He wasn't going to follow her. He didn't want to be around her; he didn't want her. Not anymore.

"I'll just—I'll go, okay?" Pushing herself up with her arms, she realized that she was right about her body failing her, making her embarrassment complete.

His fingers closed around her arm, the sudden contact made her freeze in surprise. His touch was almost searing against her skin.

"Why would you do that?" He asked, though his fingers slipped away from her, retracting back into himself, and she wished infinitely that they would return.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to figure out how to get out of wherever she was.

It was so dark.

She could hear the rain, now that she was listening for it. It was so loud. Had it been that loud before? How hadn't she noticed it?

She tried to rise again, putting her legs under her. She got one leg braced to stand, and she lurched up, only to collapse back to the ground.

"Sorry." Right, she was going to have to crawl. It was demeaning and demoralizing to not be able to walk out under her own power, but she couldn't stay. How many times had she stormed out and told him to 'sit,' sending him crashing into the ground below.

And why was he here anyway? Why hadn't he fled?

Maybe he couldn't? Maybe he was stuck? Maybe Kaede trapped him in here with her. Or Miroku, maybe? He liked to meddle well enough. But she was human, and she could slip through their barriers where he couldn't. She would allow him that escape. If he had to be trapped in here, she wasn't going to force him to stay in her presence too. She couldn't stand the idea that her presence would make him miserable.

Insult to injury and all that.

"I'm sorry. I'll go," she shifted in the blankets and moved to crawl away, even as her arms shook and trembled under the weight of her shoulders.

"What are you—Why are you apologizing? And where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Out," she swallowed down her bile, "so you don't have to be stuck in here with me."

Lightning flashed again, and for an instant, she could see the confusion that marred his face before they were plunged back into the dark.

"What the fuck are you talking about, woman?"

"Look, you've made it really clear that I—" she swallowed again, struggling to keep herself calm enough to maintain her facade that was so rapidly crumbling against her will. "I mean, I get it. I really do. And I don't want to—I mean, I'm not going to force you—I know that I bother you." There's a slow intake of breath from him, and she exhaled quickly. "I know that with everything that's happened, I'm not the same. And—"

"Kagome," his tone was firm, but she couldn't take it. She just needed to go, to get away, and her body failed her, collapsing under the weight of her uselessness, just like it did every other time she needed it. She was nothing special and never would be again.

She could barely stand to hear him talking to her. Not because she hated him, but because it hurt to imagine that everything they'd had was gone and gone forever. Kikyo had been right, hadn't she? If she called, he would go. Why would he want her when he could have perfection?

"I don't want—I know you don't want to be around me."

Okay. That came out in a rush and completely not the way that she wanted to say it, but here she was.

And now she really needed to leave before she made this worse. She threw herself into standing and walking out under her own power, but gravity was a force that she could not fight, and it took her strength and reduced it rubble and debris. Her body fell back into her blankets, legs splayed out to her side, and she couldn't even look at him or where she thought he was.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" The word was whispered, hushed, spoken under his breath, and she'd almost missed it in the clap of thunder that rolled right above the hut. It had almost escaped with the flash of lightning and the rain, but she'd caught it. Her eyes rose from the blankets, looking for him, straining in the dark.

She wanted to see him, see the expression on his face, because right now the silence wasn't telling her anything about him. She couldn't risk hoping for something that would never happen.

"I'll go," she whispered, shifting away from him again. "Sorry."

"Stop fucking apologizing," he hissed as lightning filled the room again, and she could feel the scowl on his face.

"Sorry," she whispered, wincing at her automatic response as she continued moving away.

"And where would you get the stupid fucking idea that I didn't want you?"

Part of her felt indignant at his question, like she was somehow supposed to know better or something.

"You—you," she started, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. Was he really going to make her say it? Judging from his silence, the answer became obvious. "You haven't—" She huffed. Why couldn't she just say it? Why was this so hard? "You won't talk to me. You can't even stand being in the same room as me. You can't even look at me." Her hands fisted in the blankets underneath her. "You act like—like I'm diseased, like I'm nothing."

She'd spat out the final words and Kagome waited for the confirmation, but he was completely silent. He didn't deny it at all, not a standard 'keh!' to at least show he was listening.

She stared at the blankets or where she felt them, waiting, but he never spoke or made a sound, anything that would contradict her thoughts.

So that was how he felt?

For once, she was disappointed that she was right. That Kikyo was right, that everyone else was wrong except for her. He didn't want her near him at all. She shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. It wouldn't have hurt nearly as bad.

"So, if you don't mind, I'll just," she swallowed down her dinner a second time, "you know, go."

She'd barely moved. Barely managed to even move her arm to get away from her shame and guilt and the lost love of her life.

Clawed hands grabbed her arms, jerking her in the opposite direction of her goal and crashing into him.

The position was awkward, but he held her, clutching her to him like she was something important. Something valuable. They way he used to. And once upon a time, she had felt special because of it.

Stiffening from the sudden contact, she couldn't find it in her to breathe, like it might shatter the fragile reality of what was happening.

Had to be a dream. Had to be.

"You're an idiot," he mumbled into her shoulder, flinching a second later. She could feel his breath through the yukata she wore, his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his skin as he pressed her body against his own.

Her brain processed each thing on its own, and so it took a moment for her to compute what he'd said.

"I am not!" She countered, shoving at him and trying to put some distance between them, but he refused to let her budge.

That was going to be the first real thing he said to her, and it was to call her an idiot? How dare he!

Was he just going to keep her near only to ignore her until it was convenient for him?

Was that something that she could live with if it was?

How weak was she that she was even considering it?

She fought harder, but there was no budging from his grip. Of course, that might have nothing to do with demonic strength and more with her frail existence at the moment.

"Stop fighting," he grumbled, shifting his head slightly to rest his chin on her shoulder.

"No!" She hissed, trying to push away from him. He growled at her, tightening his grip ever so slightly, and she finally caved, slumping against him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder.

Inuyasha really did give the best hugs, even for as rare as they were.

"How are you not disgusted by me?" She mumbled into his clothing, not bothering to move at all.

"Why would I be?" He asked, his grip on her loosening slightly once he deemed that she wasn't going to get away. His own question was so casually put, that Kagome sat momentarily stunned by it.

"Because I'm disgusted by me!"

She couldn't fight it, not anymore. Inuyasha always managed to breach her barriers, whether she wanted him to or not.

A sob escaped her, and she buried her face into his shoulder as another built and overflowed. Pushing at his chest, he refused to let her go, to release her in any fashion or form.

"Please, Inuyasha," she begged. She wanted him to release her and never let go all at the same time.

"I'm not going anywhere," he grumbled, and once the words soaked in, she cried helplessly against him, fingers clutching onto the loose fabric at his sides. "I'm here."

His arm shifted her position, drawing her closer as she cried, her own grip on his clothing moving to hold him tighter, because as much as she'd fought him to let her go, she was infinitely glad that he didn't.

He shushed her, one hand running clawed fingers through her hair, and the tenderness and the soothing feeling just made her cry harder until she didn't know why she was crying because, honestly, she had everything that she'd been missing this entire time.

Kagome drew her legs up so they were draped over his, and he pulled her closer.

"Kagome, please," he whispered, nose rubbing against her temple. "Stop crying."

His hand continued to stroke her hair, and the sobs slowly withered until they died completely in her throat.

"Talk, please," he whispered.

Her arms pulled away from his sides, and he pulled her tighter against him, almost reflexively, but she wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms also shifted, drawing around her waist, underneath a layer of fabric, but not against her skin. Sniffling, she looked at her arms, trying to figure out what she was wearing over her yukata.

"I could never be disgusted by you, ya know," he told her, hand still running through her hair. His other hand stroked against her lower back in soothing circles, almost absently in the speed and direction, like he was seeking touch just as much as she was. "I could ask you the same thing, you know," he mumbled, resting his forehead against her shoulder.

"Why?" She whispered, still sniffling.

"I didn't save you. Not in time."

The tears were still coming, but this time her hand found its way to the top of his head, pressing gently on the place between his ears, drawing him in closer. His arms shifted, pulling her closer to him.

"How could I be mad at you for that? I'm still alive, aren't I?"

There was a short bark of laughter from him, and he pressed her close enough that he was able to rest his chin against the back of her shoulder.

"We're both fucking idiots," he mumbled, and she hesitated for just a moment before reaching up to stroke one of his ears. It was flattened down completely, and she urged it stand back up on end. He leaned his head against hers and sighed.

"Yeah," she wrinkled her nose at the idea, "I guess we are."

He didn't move or make a motion to release her, and she was fine with it. She was fine if he never wanted to let her go ever again.

For the first time in ages, in an ageless month, she felt safe, safer than she had since she'd gone missing. Kagome felt safe, and she never wanted to give that feeling up.

My beloved will have no reason to stay with you now.

Kikyo's words always came unbidden and always at the most inopportune moments. Her arms trembled as she clutched at him tighter.

Why else would he abandon you the moment I call for him?

She was always there to remind her that she wasn't enough. She didn't want to think that Inuyasha would throw her to the side if Kikyo did summon him. She wanted to think, to believe, that he would be there, always.

Why would he muddle with you, taint himself in your presence, when he could have the pure, untouched version?

Why couldn't she just leave her alone? Why couldn't she just let her live?

When he found out—it was going to be over. There would be no saving her, them. It would all turn to ash and ruin, just like before.

She turned her face so that it was pressed into the side of his neck, holding him close to her as well, as close as she could physically get to him. Her arms shook from the strain.

"Kagome?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

She could smell him. The memory of it did not compare to the presence of him at all.

She shook her head, and he pulled away from her shoulder but did not let her go.

"Kagome?" His fingers had not stopped rubbing circles on her back over her clothes, but it felt like maybe it was soothing him more so than her.

"You're going to hate me," she mumbled.

"Not possible," he answered, turning his head to rest it lightly against hers.

"What if I'm not cursed?"

"Then Kaede and Miroku are both wrong. The monk's an idiot, but Kaede knows her shit."

The tears were coming again.

"But what if my reiki is gone for good?"

"If it is, then it is. Makes things a little harder, but ain't like it'll be impossible." Inuyasha shifted his grip.

"But what about Naraku?"

"Keh, that's what's Tetsusaiga is for, ain't it?"

She wasn't convinced though. If she didn't have her powers—her shining personality wasn't reason enough for her to still tag along. She would just be dead weight.

His thumb rubbed against her lower rib over fabric, back and forth, back and forth.

"I mean, Miroku'll probably have to cleanse himself daily to make up for being a lech, so he can try to purify the jewel. That'll probably be good for everyone though."

She felt a trembling smile develop.

"Even if it doesn't come back, you're still you; you're still Kagome."

A muffled sob escaped her as she let everything that had wound up in the last weeks release into Inuyasha's hold and out into the air.

"Thank you," she whispered, her body boneless and relaxed.


A/N: So I'm going to be perfectly honest and say that I absolutely hate this chapter. I've written and rewritten it, and it just feels flat. I feel like this was built up for so long that now it's just a disappointment, like there was this big crescendo and then it just peters out in an off-key note that was held for too long.

So if you felt that way about it, you're not alone.