Chapter 86
latius est impunitum relinqui facinus nocentis (quam innocentem damnari)
"It is better to let the crime of the guilty go unpunished (than to condemn the innocent)"
Note: A large thank you to mustardyellowsunshine for reading this and telling me that it didn't suck.
"People often claim to hunger for the truth,
but seldom like the taste when it's served up."
—A Clash of Kings
Kagome stared wide-eyed at him. Hands planted in the bedding and blankets, fingers splayed out, eyes fiercely staring at her. She blinked.
"I don't—"
"No, don't you fucking dare lie to me!" He snapped at her.
Kagome could only stare at him, and his face looming in front of hers.
He was angry, and Kagome knew that talking about it was only going to make things worse.
She was just trying to save him—no, who was she kidding? She was just trying to save herself and what little time she had left with him.
She drew her knees up to the side, feeling the instinctive need to run, tell him to sit and just flee out into the trees.
Except she didn't have the ankle or the strength to do it. She was trapped, and she wanted out. She wanted to get away.
"Inuyasha, perhaps—" Miroku started, and Kagome shifted away from them, her back still using the wall as a support.
"No!" Inuyasha snapped, turning towards the monk, and she used every bit of her power and ability to push herself up and run while he was distracted.
It was about three haphazard steps more than she'd thought she'd make before collapsing as a growl and a hand grabbed her arm, and another wrapped around her waist, supporting her and keeping her from collapsing onto the floor.
"And what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Inuyasha growled, and her legs shook, trembling, and finally giving out under her.
She grabbed the wrist wrapped around her midsection as her feet slid across the wood floor. He held her like she weighed nothing to him, just holding her and letting her struggle vainly.
"You fucking done?" He asked, and all she could manage was a sniffle in response. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to see that look on his face when he found out what had really happened inside the barrier.
Inuyasha twisted them around, and lowered her back onto her bedding. She leaned back against the wall, and Sango moved in beside her.
"Was that really necessary?" Sango asked, wrapping her arms around her and drawing her close. Kagome sank against her, letting out a low sob as she turned into her friend's shoulder.
"I ain't the one trying to run!"
"Kagome," Sango cooed, and Kagome shook her head. "You can tell us what happened."
"I can't!" She cried. "You'll hate me!"
"I highly doubt that," Miroku added. "You saved Inuyasha and yourself. Whatever you did was necessary and no one can fault you for that."
Oh, but they could, and he would.
Inuyasha was sitting in the same spot, and she could feel the glare from where she sat.
And she'd only confirmed that she had something to hide from him.
"Kagome, whatever it is, I promise, it can't be any worse than what any of us have done in our pasts."
Oh, but it was. Kikyo had needed her help, and she'd tried and probably hurt her more than she actually helped. Because Inuyasha had already forgiven them for whatever transgressions they'd committed, and when she told him, he was going to be so mad. She couldn't fathom his forgiveness.
Kagome pressed her face more firmly against Sango, trying to hide.
"Kagome, I promise, no one will be upset with you," Sango told her, and Kagome wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that everyone would understand what she did to protect herself—and Inuyasha. But there was that lingering voice that sounded so familiar in her head that swore the moment she said anything—revealed the truth—they'd leave. The voice haunted her.
"Kagome," Inuyasha's voice was softer, but it still held that tinge of anger behind it. "Just say it."
Sango gently rubbed her shoulder, and she took a deep breath as she prepared to tear her world—and her heart—asunder.
"Where do you want me to start?" She asked quietly, still holding onto Sango. She managed to turn her face towards them, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She couldn't bear the look in his eyes when he finally heard the truth.
No sounds came from outside the room. No birds singing. No sounds of people. It felt like the world itself waited on pins and needles to hear the answers it already knew.
"Why did Kikyo," Miroku hesitated for just a fraction of a moment, "take you away?"
"There was something that she needed." She turned her head slightly, but refusing to look at anyone other than her hands that were in her lap.
"Which was what?" Miroku asked, but he was quickly dwarfed by Inuyasha.
"So why poison me?" Inuyasha interrupted, asking his question louder, and Kagome chose to answer it instead—it was the easier question to address at the moment.
Sango's hand slid over hers, stopping her from fidgeting with her nails.
"I don't know," Kagome answered. "But she had the antidote for it. I don't—" Kagome swallowed, "I don't think she meant for you to be so sick."
"But why do it in the first place?" He pressed, and Kagome didn't have any other logical answer other than the truth.
"I think you were supposed to be leverage."
"Leverage for what?"
"For me," she answered, and it grew oppressively quiet in the small room. Kirara crawled into her lap, letting her stroke her fur with her fingers. "She wanted to make sure that I agreed," she swallowed again, feeling like she was swallowing rocks, "to help her."
"Agreed to help her do what exactly?" Miroku pressed, and Kagome knew that he wasn't going to let anything slide—not by him at least.
They just want to help, she reminded herself. They just want to help, and make sure that no one got hurt again. That's all.
But even as she repeated those words like a mantra, it still felt an awful lot like a witch hunt.
"She can't purify the jewel anymore."
There was a significant pause, and Inuyasha was the first to speak.
"How did that happen? Since when? How do you know?" His questions were a tirade, and each one a crippling blow to the already leaking dam that she'd patched together with tape and hope.
She'd known that he was going to be concerned, but knowing it and hearing it were two different things.
She'd wanted to keep him close just for a bit longer.
That was all.
"I don't know. All she said was that it was my fault," she managed to look up at Inuyasha. "But I swear, I haven't done anything to her! But she won't tell me what I did!"
"What did she say she wanted exactly?" Sango asked.
"Uh," Kagome swallowed trying to think of something to say—anything that wouldn't sound like she was tattling on the mean girl at the playground. Anything but the truth of it.
"Kagome, what did she say?" Inuyasha insisted.
"She said that I took everything from her. That I ruined it."
"How do you know that she couldn't purify shards anymore?"
"Because she had one on her! It was tainted, and I asked her why she didn't purify it, and she kept saying that it was my fault!"
"That doesn't make any sense."
No, of course it didn't, because it wasn't the entire truth.
She knew that she should tell them. She knew that she should just tell them everything. Kikyo wouldn't have hesitated to tell them anything and everything. She wouldn't have hesitated to tell Inuyasha that Kagome had attacked her and caused damage that she might not be able to recover from.
So why was Kagome so hesitant to say anything bad about her?
Why couldn't she just tell them all everything? Why did it all feel like some desperate and futile plea?
"When did Kikyo shoot you with the arrow?" Miroku asked, and Kagome felt the blood drain from her face. Kirara mewled at the lack of petting.
"I, uh," she cleared her throat attempting to stall in answering his question. Miroku really wasn't cutting her any slack today. "Which time?"
She winced at her own question.
A glance at Inuyasha only revealed that he was actively staring at her—though that felt a lot more like a pointed glare.
The room suddenly felt stifling and so very small that she wasn't sure if she'd be able able to breathe with the air was running out like it was. The walls inched in, moving her across her bedding slowly, creeping together and leaving her just enough time to think about all the terrible things she'd done and all the horrors she'd left behind.
Her fingers ran through Kirara's fur again, even as Sango shifted to wrap an arm around her shoulders as Kagome clamped her eyes shut to avoid seeing anything for a moment.
It was just a feeling.
The walls weren't moving, and the room was plenty large enough for them.
"It's alright, Kagome. We just want to know what happened. That's all." She gently rubbed Kagome's arms, trying to be reassuring, but the telling of it was the whole problem.
"We're just trying to help," Miroku tacked on, but that was the crux of the problem. He wasn't helping. None of them were helping her—it definitely didn't feel that way, at least.
"Maybe, we should stop with the questions," Sango said.
"You tell us what happened, and then we'll ask our questions, alright?"
That wasn't much better either. They were trying to help, but all their help would leave her with little to nothing left.
Inuyasha would leave—forever, probably—and she'd be left here without him. The ties to that anchor of hers began to fray too quickly for her to reweave all the strands back together. The wind picking up and slicing into her skin with the cold rush of air. Her fingers shook at the effort to try and save herself.
"I just really don't want to talk about it at all."
"Not an option," Inuyasha growled, and she flinched.
"I think what Inuyasha means is that, we need to know what happened in order to protect you better."
That wasn't what he meant, but a girl could dream.
"Okay, so just start at the beginning. What happened right before you were taken through the barrier?"
She swallowed, and those metaphorical rocks plopped into her stomach, heavy and weighty.
There was no hiding anything. They'd know what happened, and then she'd just have to take whatever happened after.
Might as well rip every band-aid off at once.
She took a breath, and Kagome steadied her nerves with Kirara's fur.
Sango rubbed her arm gently reminding her that they were there.
Inuyasha sat nearly facing her, staring her down.
"Her shinidamachu pulled me off Kirara and took me to her," Kagome started. "She didn't say—much, but then Inuyasha showed up, and she threw some dust into his face, and he passed out under a tree." She swallowed, looking up at him. "You went down so quickly, and she said that she'd poisoned you, but she also said that she had an antidote, and then that's when she—" Kagome swallowed audibly, "she shot at me the first time." Her hand drifted up to her arm where they'd just taken the bandage off during her bath. "But I got up a barrier before she could hit me, so it only hit my arm."
"You got up a barrier before the arrow could hit?" Miroku asked, and she nodded. "That's amazing!"
Kagome gave a small smile at his praise, but she knew it would be short lived.
A moment of peace right before the storm would blow through her meager shelter and tear her away.
"But I couldn't hold it up for very long, so I made a barrier with the arrow she'd shot earlier."
"Wait," Miroku started, "I know we said no questions," he waved off Sango's frustrated huff, "but you used an arrow as an anchor to make a barrier?"
Kagome nodded.
"But we've never practiced that?"
"Yeah, I didn't know if it would work exactly."
"But it did?"
Kagome nodded, and Miroku looked practically giddy at the news that she'd done this small feat that any priest or priestess could probably do in their sleep.
He made a noise as he grinned at her, clapping his hands in his eagerness.
"Does no one else realize how amazing that is?"
"Shut it, monk," Inuyasha grumbled.
"So what happened next Kagome?"
"Well, I had to drop the barrier to put the new one up, and I did, but—" she hesitated for just a second, "that's when she shot me the second time."
"In the back?" Sango asked, and Kagome nodded.
"And then what?" Miroku urged.
"She kept talking about how I stole something from her, but I haven't! I swear!" Her eyes glanced over to Inuyasha whose face looked the exact same as before.
Withdrawn, pensive—definitely not happy with her.
"She said some things—"
"Like what?" Inuyasha interrupted this time.
"That it was my fault that you were dying."
She caught the flinch out of the corner of her eyes.
"I noticed that she was using a jewel shard, and it was tainted, but she never purified it, and when I asked about it, she got really, really upset."
No questions were asked, and they were nearing the part that she wanted to avoid, but all she had were attentive faces, and it wasn't like she could just go 'look out the window—a youkai!' and expect them all to fall for it while she bailed out the back.
He only chooses you because you're weak!
You're just—excess.
No.
No. Kikyo was wrong then, and she was wrong now.
Kagome mattered!
She deserved to live!
No matter what anyone else thought, Kagome deserved to live!
"What happened next, Kagome?"
"Uh," she sniffled. "Inuyasha got worse from the poison, and Kikyo said that she'd give it to him if I agreed."
"To give him the antidote?"
"No, that I would—uh—give her what she wanted."
"Which was what exactly?" Inuyasha pressed, leaning forward slightly and her hands trembled around Kirara's small kitten form. His eyes narrowed as he watched her intently, looking for any signs that she was lying to him.
This was it.
This was the moment that she'd feared.
There was no more hiding. No more opportunity for lies.
She'd have to tell him the truth and watch the fallout spread around her.
Her voice cracked before she even started to speak.
"My soul?" She whispered, but it was loud enough because every single sound in the room was silenced after she said it.
Good. Great. This was going to go over so well.
And the silence just felt heavier and heavier the longer she left it alone.
She could feel that rope tying her to Inuyasha growing tauter and tauter until there would be no other option except for it to snap in twain and leave her floundering in the wind and water as it dragged her away from shore and safety.
"I mean, it's my fault that she's like this! If I hadn't called my soul back when she was resurrected, she'd be fine, and she's not, and it's my fault, and I'm sorry, but I really didn't want to give it back to her, and I know that you're upset, but I thought that I could help her, because something's wrong, and I just wanted to help her! I swear! I just wanted to help her! I didn't want to hurt her at all! It just—it just happened, and when I tried, the antidote dropped and broke and I tried to save it, but it wasn't enough, and I'm sorry!" A sob interrupted her tirade. "I just couldn't—and then she left, and I swear, I tried so hard! I promise I did! I tried! And it wasn't enough, and I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! You have to believe me!"
How much of her babbling was coherent, she wasn't quite sure because the crying had slurred words and syllables together, until tears ran freely down her face as she cried, curling up into herself as her body would let her.
"I gotta go," he said, rising to his feet and out the door. He didn't look at her; he didn't glance over his shoulder. Instead, she watched him walk out as though the mere presence of her was more than he could stomach, slamming the door closed behind him.
"We believe you," Sango whispered, bringing her in for a hug. "We know that you wouldn't hurt her on purpose."
Everything I've ever wanted, you've stolen from me and squandered it.
Kagome let out another painfully loud cry as she realized that Kikyo was right on this one. She'd squandered whatever she'd had with Inuyasha, and now he was gone. He couldn't even look at her now. Couldn't even be in the same room as her.
Her fears were all confirmed. He'd left, just as she'd predicted. Just as she knew he would once the words left her mouth.
He was going to go after Kikyo, just like she knew that he would.
And despite knowing that this is exactly what would happen, it still felt like all the carefully placed stilts and supports that she'd surrounded herself with finally crumbled and fell away.
Every lie that she'd told herself, pushing each fear and insecurity off, creating this small little cavern so that she could just breathe and exist, finally gave way.
The cavern that she'd been slowly growing, digging her way out of all the fear and self-loathing, imploded—just like she knew it would—crushing her underneath the weight of it all. Her freedom had become her coffin.
"I'll go check on him," Miroku said, the soft jingle of his staff disappearing out the door with a soft call for Shippo to follow him.
If it had been me guarding the jewel, none of this would have happened!
Sango held her close, telling that it would be alright, that they believed her, that she did the right thing, even as Inuyasha's departure ripped the ground right out from under her, letting her tumble back into that dark, dark place she'd only just crawled out of.
It had been hours, and her eyes were dry and red, her voice hurt, and she'd probably never breathe through her right nostril ever again.
The door slid open slowly and Miroku stepped back into the room with Shippo heading towards her the moment he stepped inside.
"Anything?" Sango asked, still sitting beside her.
"Not yet," he answered, staff jingling as he set it down. Shippo curled against her back, and he was a warm weight as she faced the wall on her side. Kirara had curled up under her chin, and Kagome had cried into her fur so much that it was still damp to the touch.
Sango ran her fingers through her hair as she sat against the wall.
"I swear, that stupid idiot," she mumbled, and Kagome sniffled.
He wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't stupid.
He knew what he wanted and he always went after it. It wasn't Kagome's fault that what he wanted wasn't her.
Maybe if she'd been braver, she could've done the same. Gone after what she wanted.
But she wasn't. She wasn't brave like him or like Kikyo.
"Have you eaten anything?" Miroku asked as he glanced outside to the start of the setting sun.
She hadn't eaten anything, and she really didn't want to.
She just wanted to stay curled up in her blankets and not talk to anyone about anything. She just wanted to weep and mourn her loss in quiet.
Miroku sighed.
"I'll go get something for us."
He walked away, and this time Sango sighed, still running her fingers through her hair. Kirara had let her cling to her small body, weeping into the soft fur without so much as a complaint.
But that wasn't fair to Kirara. She probably wanted to go stretch and sleep in the sun.
Kagome let her go, releasing her grip on her tiny body, letting her be free. Kirara trilled, before shifting to curl up closer against her.
The door slid open, and she heard feet padding towards them.
"They will bring something soon," Miroku explained, and a firm hand squeezed her gently on the shoulder. "He will be back, probably sooner rather than later."
She nodded, but the tears leaked out, running across the bridge of her nose and dropping into her blankets and Kirara's fur.
Miroku patted her shoulder before standing up.
"Sango, a word, if you would?"
"But—"
"I'm sure that Shippo will come find us if Kagome needs us. Right, Shippo?"
"I'll take good care of her!" Shippo chirped, and she could feel his tail flicking against her hip.
Sango rose to her feet slowly, hesitating, and then the two of them walked out onto the porch.
The door opened and shut behind them, leaving Kagome metaphorically alone in her bedding.
"Do you want some water?" Shippo asked, and Kagome shook her head. Shippo crawled up to her shoulders, sitting down next to her. She sniffled as he patted her hair. "I'm glad that you didn't let Kikyo win. I would've missed you and Inuyasha a lot."
Kagome felt herself shudder as she curled up tighter around Kirara, a hand pressing to her mouth as she stifled her sobs.
"Kagome," Sango said, gently shaking her shoulder. "Dinner is here."
She didn't want to eat.
"I'm not hungry," Kagome answered, fully aware that she sounded half-heartbroken and halfway like a petulant child.
"You have to eat, Kagome. You haven't had anything since breakfast."
She didn't want to eat anything. She didn't want to do anything. Not right now.
Just let her lay here and wallow.
"Come on, Kagome."
"I want to go home."
Sango sighed.
"Well, right now, I don't think that you could make that journey to the well or climb out on your own, and I'm not about to send you through the well with no way out. So how about we eat dinner, get our strength back. and then we'll take you home?"
Kagome knew what they were doing. She knew that Sango was just trying to get her to eat, but she'd lost Inuyasha—and being here was just heartbreaking.
She should just go home for a while.
Heal.
Recover.
And then maybe she could stand to be on this side of the well again.
But then again, the thought of leaving felt like abandoning everyone she cared for—the ones who were here, taking care of her, when it would've been so much easier to hand her and Inuyasha off and just hope for the best.
She owed them more than abandonment.
Kagome rolled onto her back, and Sango gave her a small smile.
"I can eat beside you, if you'd rather stay here," Sango offered.
"And if you would rather eat by the fire, I assure you that I am more than capable to move you safely," Miroku said kneeling down in front of her.
She stared at his face, as he held his hand out to her.
She'd promised herself that she would do better. She'd swore that she wouldn't go back to that deep dark place.
But she wasn't ready for that step just yet.
"I'd like to stay," she said, pushing herself up to a sit against the wall.
"Good," Miroku said. "Let me get your tray." He rose to his feet, returning to the trays set by the fire to keep them warm.
He picked up one in each hand, bringing it over to Kagome and Sango.
"Can you sit too?" Kagome asked him, and he flashed her a genuine grin.
"I'd love to," he answered.
"Me too?" Shippo asked, and Kagome nodded. He squealed and bounded off after Miroku, who picked up the other tray for him, walking back as Shippo eagerly circled around his feet.
Miroku and Shippo sat down across from them. She noted the lingering tray that remained by the fire, and she wasn't prepared for the sharp pang that rocked through her at the sight of it.
She used her chopsticks to stir up the rice and picked at her small piece of fish.
"So, little sister," Miroku said, taking a bite, and Kagome looked up at him. "Tell me about this anchor barrier you made."
"Miroku!" Sango hissed. "We're not talking about it!"
"Sango," Miroku quipped quickly. "This is like her just walking up to Hiraikotsu, picking it up and throwing it perfectly! It's a big deal!"
Sango looked at her, and Kagome's gaze drifted back towards her tray of food.
"What made you think of that?" Miroku asked her, and he looked genuinely interested in how she'd managed to pull off such a feat.
She'd been proud of herself when she'd done it, but that feeling had long since subsided.
Sango motioned for her to eat something.
"I—uh—well, I knew that I couldn't keep the barrier up for much longer," Kagome shrugged, "and I thought that Kikyo must've done something like it, so I just did it."
"You just—did it?" Miroku asked, mouth practically agape. "Just on a whim?"
"Well, Kikyo was—" she started to speak and then realized that Inuyasha wasn't there, and she couldn't feel him anywhere. "She was threatening us, and I had to do something."
"And you just," Miroku gestured wildly, "made a barrier—with an arrow?"
"It didn't feel that different from a normal barrier."
"It didn't—not that—are you kidding?" Miroku stumbled over all the words, and Kagome just blinked at him as his mouth opened but nothing resembling words came out.
"I think you broke him," Sango mentioned, again motioning to Kagome's bowl of food.
She lifted a small bite to her mouth, even though the rice tasted like flour and water. She swallowed it down anyway.
"Hold on," Miroku took a breath, rubbing his face with his good hand. "Do you know how long it took me to be able to create that sort of barrier?"
"A week?"
"A wee—!" He cut himself off, shaking his head, and then staring at the door leading to the porch for a beat. "Are you kidding me? A week? It took me months. Months! And you just—'it's not that different,'" he mocked.
"So it's supposed to be harder?"
Miroku squinted at her question, eyes narrowing as he frowned at her.
"I can't even look at you right now."
Kagome felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards as Miroku continued to rant about how how she'd just completely demolished all the training that he'd suffered through with Mushin.
But even so, her eyes drifted towards the closed door, and she found herself waiting for the maelstrom to carry her away.
It was only a matter of time before she'd have to figure this all out on her own.
A/N: Happy Thursday!
When I tell you the trepidation I have over this chapter. 😬 I hope it did not disappoint.
Thank you so much for all the well-wishes and the patience with my reduced schedule! 💜💜 I have a test this week to rule out some stuff, so here's hoping that it comes back negative.
I hope you all have a great week (Happy Valentine's/Galentine's Day) and I'll see you on the 23rd.
