A/N: I had initially written this for the Every Heart zine, but then scrapped it for the actual piece which is the next chapter now. Still, maybe because of the time I spent on this, it connects with the actual piece quite well? It makes the story feel a little fuller, especially some of the repeated ideas and themes…so I decided to make this the first chapter. I would have just merged the two pieces, but it feels like there's a missing section in between then so…ch 1 and ch2 instead!

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i.

Kikyo opened her eyes to a sky full of stars. The ground was wet and soft, long grasses tickling her bare skin. Leaves rustled in a warm breeze, the wind ruffling her clothes. An earthy smell overwhelmed her nose. All of her senses told her: you're alive.

The problem: Kikyo had died. She had died once or twice before, had felt the icy piercing of death, the slow numbness of disappearing. Death was revolving door; she knew that well enough. Still, her last one was to be her final one, a reprieve from all of the pain and suffering she'd gone through.

Even now, she could feel Inyuasha's claws digging into her skin, his salty tears on her lip, his warmth as he crushed her into his chest. He had quietly murmured of love, in a husky voice she could not have imagined all those years ago when she had first fallen for him. In another life, she would have woken to that voice every day. In this, it sent her off on her final trip.

Death in her lover's arms was more than she had ever hoped for.

Yet, here she was, alive. Kikyo lay there, staring at the sky. Her body was still clay, magic replacing flesh and blood with earth and spirits. Soul collectors slowly drifted down to her, glowing like fireflies as they sustained her life.

"How?" she finally said after an hour, reluctantly accepting that this was reality and not some cruel joke.

No one replied. She hadn't expected anyone too.

Slowly, Kikyo pushed herself up, taking note of the grassy field she found herself in. They were a dime a dozen in Japan. She could be near her hometown. She could be half-way across the country.

The only thing she knew was that there had to people nearby or her soul collectors would have returned empty handed.

"How?" she repeated to herself, with the added question, "Where?"

There was a soft crunch and she turned around to find a familiar demon approaching her. His long, white hair looked like silver in the moonlight, his fur stole like a cloud. Sesshomaru. She should be more frightened. In the night, he looked like death itself. Yet fear was for those who had something to lose and Kikyo had nothing except a life that wasn't even hers to begin with.

His sword glinted in the dim light and she glanced at it. The Tenseiga. "Did you bring me back?"

Sesshomaru didn't reply, merely sheathing his sword as he came closer. The long grasses bent and crunched under his feet. His shadow fell on her as he stopped next to her, his golden eyes studying her. Just when she thought he wouldn't answer her question, he finally said, "That is impossible."

Others had called her taciturn and cryptic over the years, but she doubted she could compare to the demon beside her. "Impossible?"

"Tenseiga can only bring back the recently killed." Those were more words than she'd ever heard him speak. Sesshomaru slowly scanned their surroundings. "How?"

"I don't know," she answered, forcing herself to her feet. Her body ached with each movement, her limbs not yet ready for use. Kikyo swayed slightly as she tried to keep her balance. "I should be dead."

A clawed hand steadied her. His grip was utterly different from his brother's; Kikyo could feel the inherent strength in his palm, the restraint that kept it back. Sesshomaru touched his sword lightly with his other hand. "You can be."

Kikyo followed his hand up, her eyes taking him in before she finally looked up at his face. Sesshomaru was not the joking type. His poker face remained as impassive as ever. If she asked, he would kill her in an instant. It would be painless. "Why? You are not one to dole out kindness."

His lips quirked, a rare show of emotion. "I am not," he acknowledged, letting go of her now. "You helped Rin. This is a repayment of the favour."

"There is nothing to repay," she corrected. Still, his offer was tempting. Kikyo had done her part. No, she had done more than her part. No one would fault her for stopping now.

Yet, Naraku was still alive. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did. If a red string connected her to Inyuasha, then a black one connected her to Naraku. The threads of fate he had twisted wound around her, binding her tightly. When he breathed his last, she would feel it.

Kikyo might have released her hatred long ago but a personal grudge wasn't the only reason the demon had to be slain. She shook her head. "Not yet. Perhaps once our task is completed."

He nodded and pivoted on his heel. Even here, he did not ask questions.

"Don't tell anyone I'm back," Kikyo called out.

Sesshomaru paused. "No one?"

She could guess exactly who he was thinking of. "No one. I am dead, after all. Let me remain dead. Like you said, there is nothing more pitiful than the dead clinging to the living."

ii.

Naraku was dead, the jewel was destroyed, and Kikyo was alive. If returning to life had been strange, this was even stranger. Whether it was revenge or her life's duty, both of her anchors to her life were completely gone. Yet, for some deity's whim, she remained.

She brushed her hair behind her ear as she stood on a hill overlooking her home. It seemed unaffected by the passage of time, the same sleepy, quiet village that she had once expected to spend the rest of her life in. In the distance, Kaede talked quietly to an earnest Kohaku and shy Rin.

In the distance, Inyuasha tenderly buried his head in a pregnant Kagome's neck.

Her breath hitched.

A branch cracked behind her and Kikyo whirled around, her bow drawn. "Who's there?"

Sesshomaru said nothing as he stepped out of the foliage. Paying her weapon no mind, he gazed out at the village. Then again, Kikyo was certain that if it had truly come down to a fight, she would have lost. Her powers were not what they used to be and he was the strongest demon in the west.

"You always appear out of nowhere," she mused, relaxing her stance. Kikyo slipped her bow over her shoulder. There was no need for any other protection with him here; no doubt he'd sense any danger before her. She glanced at her companion. He had a talent for appearing where and when she least expected. If it had been anyone else, she would have suspected them of keeping tabs on her.

"You will not go to them?" Sesshomaru asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.

He was never one to talk unnecessarily. Then again, he had never been one to care at all and now he visited a human village often with gifts for Rin. Perhaps she wasn't the only one who had changed over the course of the war.

"No, I am dead, after all." Her gaze lingered on Inyuasha and Kagome. As expected, she ached. Even accepting the reality of the situation hadn't been enough to dispel her love for him, her love that had transcended reincarnation and logic. The woman with Inyuasha was both her and not her.

What does it mean to lose your love to yourself? If she had lived normally, would that be her in the village now?

Yet, a bride's blush had never been destined for her in life. She shouldn't be surprised it wasn't there for her in death.

"Is it time?" Sesshomaru asked, his hand resting on his sword.

That answered her question: why was he here? He still owed her a favour and she doubted he enjoyed debt.

"Perhaps." Kikyo rubbed her arm as she studied the village once more. If there was a good time to disappear, it would be now. She didn't have a purpose anymore. She had no jewel to protect, no love to return to. Naraku was dead, only lesser demons remained. Her time here was done, her connections severed.

But she still didn't know why she'd been called back to life.

There was one last thread holding her to the mortal realm.

"I think I will linger a little longer," she finally said. She smiled pitifully. "Though you might find that pathetic."

Sesshomaru glanced at her, his golden eyes seeming to see right through her. After a moment, he replied, "You smell of earth."

Bemused, she raised a brow. "You've said that before. Earth and death, was it?"

"Earth," Sesshomaru repeated, before walking away.

They fought by each other's sides for months now and she still didn't know how to read him.

iii.

Time passed slowly in peace. Kikyo had never though she'd have the luxury of learning such a simple fact. Time passed slowly in peace, in the small steps of children as they learned to use shovels instead of blades, in the smiles of mothers as they watched over the family, in the laughter of fathers as they drank in the fields.

Kikyo spent her time slowly meandering from village to village, never lingering for longer than year. Old habits died hard and she was too used to a life on the run, a life of hiding. Even peace couldn't change that. She'd wander in, healing those she could and teaching simple remedies for those with talent.

There was a simple joy in helping others that she had forgotten. Her hands had been made for more than just fighting and she relearned that day by day, year by year.

And in one of those years, she stumbled across Sesshomaru once more. He sat next to a rock pool, the full moon shining down on him as he drank. Time had not changed him, though Kikyo would be hard-pressed to say just how many years it had been.

Time had not changed her either; however she had come back to life, she was still in an unchanging body. Kikyo stared at him as she stepped out of the woods, her empty water flask in her hands. When he didn't move, she approached the water and knelt to refill her supplies. "Odd place for a drink," she murmured.

He sipped from his cup, the movement elegant and refined. She could almost see the blue blood running through his veins. "You can join."

It sounded almost like a request. Kikyo glanced at the bottle next to him. There was another cup already in place. Had he been waiting for her here? Expecting her? She would never have claimed to know the man, but even then, Sesshomaru after the war was a stranger to her.

Intrigued, she set down her flask and carefully sat next to him. When he didn't move, Kikyo poured herself a drink. The moon reflected in the rippling sake. It tasted sweeter than she expected.

"Have you thought of my offer?" Sesshomaru asked as he refilled his own cup.

A full sentence. She felt honoured. "Yes. I…still…" Kikyo didn't know how to describe the odd feeling she had, the desire to live on despite having no reason to. She had never known her wishes in life, it seemed that remained the same in her death.

Sesshomaru didn't say anything, simply patiently sipped as he waited. Did he still think of her as pathetic? Would he have drank with her if he did?

"Not yet," she concluded simply.

He merely inclined his head, neither admonishing nor judging. The rest of their drink was spent in silence. An oddly comfortable one. Kikyo had never though she'd find the company of a demon, especially a fully-blooded one desirable, yet here she was.

(Years later, Kikyo heard of his marriage to Rin, of the birth of his twin daughters. Had that drink been a celebratory one? The downside to immortality was that the years blended into one another, undistinguishable aside from his odd, perfunctory visits. If asked, she couldn't say just when they had drunk together, just that they had.)