Chapter 29
Abbati, medico, patrono que intima pande
"Conceal not the truth from thy physician and lawyer."

"It hath been often said that it is not
death, but dying, which is terrible."
—Amelia

Her head throbbed, and she let out a low groan. A shadow flashed over her as she struggled to open her eyes, which felt like they were glued shut.

"Kagome?" Kaede asked, and she tilted her head towards the sound of her voice. A damp cloth ran over her eyes. "Kagome, can ye hear me?"

"Yeah," she rasped out in a whisper, trying to open her eyes to see what was going on.

"Ye had us so worried, child," Kaede said, a wet laugh coming from her.

Had she been crying?

Why?

"Sorry," she rasped.

"It's okay, dear. It's okay," Kaede told her, the damp cloth wiping her face.

Kagome hummed as the cloth dragged over her face. Cracking an eye open, she winced at the light in the room, and Kaede quickly closed the window to darken the room some.

"Can ye see now?"

Kagome blinked, rolling her head towards the sound of Kaede's voice. It wasn't as bright, but she still struggled to focus on Kaede's blurred form. Swallowing, fabric shifted across her neck, and she reached her hand up to her throat, trembling and so heavy, feeling fabric underneath.

"Kagome," Kaede said, grabbing her hand and holding it in her own, away from her neck. "Do ye remember anything?"

Kagome started to speak, but she hacked and coughed trying to clear out her throat enough to speak at a normal volume.

"I am going to invite Sango in, alright?" Kaede stated and Kagome gave a short nod of her head. Her body felt so heavy.

"Kagome?" Sango's voice drifted over her, and her face appeared within her limited line of sight. She smiled down at her. "Hey," she cooed, "we were all worried about you," she said, sliding her hand under Kagome's head and shoulders to help her sit.

Once they had her in a more reclined position, Sango slowly fed her water, which made her throat burn at first and then became increasingly refreshing. But her arms and her body felt heavy, though her head felt deceptively light.

Sango pulled the bottle away, letting Kagome rest her head in her lap, as she smoothed the hair from her face.

She cleared her throat, phlegm sliding down her trachea as she swallowed.

"What do ye remember, Kagome?"

"Tired," she rasped, though the volume was louder and her voice didn't crack when she spoke. "My throat hurt." She reached her fingers towards the fabric wrapped around her neck. It moved when she swallowed. "I've been asleep?"

Her eyes looked first to Sango and then to Kaede.

"Aye, for two full days now."

Kagome hummed an affirmative.

"Why?"

"We don't know for sure. You were fine, and then it was like you couldn't breathe. Do you remember that?" Sango asked, brushing the backs of her fingers across her cheeks.

It took more effort to focus than it should, than she knew that it should.

"Yeah?" She crinkled her nose at her lack of ability to remember. She should be able to recall more. "Everything's," she struggled to come up with the right word.

"Filmy?" She stopped trying to lift her head, and let herself rest against Sango's thigh. "So heavy."

"Do you need to sleep more?" Sango asked.

"Maybe," she mumbled, letting her eyes fall closed with a soft sigh.

"Kagome, Miroku and I are going to examine ye with some reiki," Kaede stated, and Kagome hummed.

Someone shuffled in, and she could feel the slight breeze of something passing beside her. Sango lowered her head to the small pillow, and Kagome cracked an eye open to see her shifting away.

"I'll be right outside," she reassured her, and Kagome struggled to focus long enough to watch her leave. Her eyes turned back to Miroku and then Kaede, shifting as they moved to situate themselves around her.

Kaede sat on one side, Miroku on the other. He rested one hand on her stomach and another on her throat, fingers sliding over the bandage. Kaede's hands settled over her sternum and just below her belly button.

"Ready?" Miroku asked Kaede, who merely nodded. He looked down at Kagome, giving her a patient and friendly smile. "Tell me if you feel anything, good or bad, okay?"

She nodded, staring at his face as his eyes drifted off into somewhere else.

He looked tired.

Dark, bruising circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well in days. His hair looked like he hadn't washed in a while either.

"You're tired," she told him. His eyes darted down to hers, and she saw the soft upturn at the corners of his mouth. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, make sure he wasn't sick, but her arm flopped against his knee.

"So are you," he quipped. "Now, quiet." The command wasn't harsh or a rebuke, just quietly spoken so that he could focus. He reached down and put her arm back without comment.

She watched him concentrate, staring at something that she couldn't see, at least not anymore. She couldn't feel the reiki that she knew they had to be using on her.
Kaede's fingertips pressed into her chest and abdomen, and Kagome made a small noise in the back of her throat, grimacing at the small flare of pain from it. Their hands disappeared immediately, pulling away from her as she shifted to relieve the dull throbbing across the top of her ribs.

"Kagome?"

"Too hard," she mumbled, lifting an uncoordinated hand to her chest, to help alleviate the pain.

"Sorry, child," Kaede said, lightly patting her shoulder.

"I think that we can stop for now," Miroku said, glancing up at Kaede. "We'll let you rest a little before dinner, okay?"

"Aye, child," Kaede smoothed some of the hair from her face. "Take some rest. We'll wake ye for dinner."

She had questions though, but her brain just couldn't focus enough to ask them. Miroku would be honest with her. He wouldn't mince words or run away. He wouldn't speak down to her, or act like she was an idiot. Even when he tried to train her, he always kept her as an equal, an untrained one, but an equal nonetheless.

Maybe that's why his dismissal, his insistence of returning to her own era hurt in a way she hadn't expected from him. Miroku had come to be like a big brother to her. A guiding spirit, and when he'd just shooed her away with no more than a wave of his hand, it hurt.

But then Sango was there, occupying what little brain capacity she had at the moment.

"Hey, we've got a little bit before dinner. Let's get some rest," Sango suggested, draping a cool, damp cloth over her eyes. It was a relief that she didn't know she needed.

Letting out a soft sigh, Kagome's body sagged into the blankets, and she drifted away.

"Kagome," Kaede's voice cut through the haze. "Do ye feel up to some dinner?"

She felt—she did a quick assessment—better?—or at least the same as before, but not worse, which in itself was an improvement.

"Yeah," she pushed herself up, noting that she felt more coordinated than before. The rag fell away from her face and Kaede was quick to place it back in the bowl of water. She shifted her legs underneath her, preparing to stand, and while the scab pulled a little, it wasn't like it had with the stitches. Her muscles felt sore and stiff, and she wanted to go on a walk, but judging by the wooziness that she already felt, that was a bad idea to enact on her own.

Kaede watched her patiently, it was always with patience, it was like she knew no other way to get things done.

"Kaede," she started, licking her lips to ease some of the rawness and chapping. "Can I—?" She glanced at the doorway, and Kaede followed her gaze.

"Ye want to eat at the fire?"

Kagome nodded.

"With everyone else?"

Kagome picked at her nails, not making eye contact with her, but still wanting to hear the answer. Sango had said that she missed her. She made it sound like the others missed her too. Maybe that was a mistake—maybe this was a mistake too. Maybe she was just overthinking, and she should just stay—

"Alright. Do ye need help?"

Her fretting had stuttered to a stop, and she looked up at Kaede's face, who smiled down at her.

"Uh, maybe?" Kagome stuttered out. She shifted her weight, feeling the slight pull in her shoulder and the quaking of her muscles from the strain of trying to push herself up.

It wasn't working.

"Sango, come here for a moment," Kaede called. The sheet shifted to one side, and Sango's face appeared in the doorway. She glanced between Kagome and Kaede, clearly waiting for instructions. "Kagome would like to eat with us this evening. Can ye help her stand? I will prepare the bowls."

Kaede walked out, allowing Sango to pass by her.

Sango knelt down beside her, allowing Kagome position herself in the best way to get to her feet. Shifting her knees under her, she let Sango wrap her good arm around her neck, an arm sliding around her waist.

"Ready?" Sango asked her, shifting her weight slightly.

Kagome nodded, bracing herself for the pain that she was sure was going to happen.

Pushing herself up, Sango dragged her up to her feet. Her legs wobbled, and her feet staggered in the sheets, but Sango held her firm. As Kagome's limbs struggled to figure out how to work, Sango remained motionless and statuesque.

Seriously, it had only been a couple days, not like she was in a coma for a month!

But finally, finally, her feet found the floor, and she steadied herself enough that she lurched forward a step.

Sango followed her lead, supporting her in every step that she made.

"Miroku," Sango called.

"No, please, I can do it," Kagome wheedled, but Sango just smiled. "I want to do it."

"Just to make sure you don't fall."

Miroku stepped inside, cautiously, but he quickly moved to her side, offering his own strength to help her move.

"What are we doing?" He asked, replacing Sango's body with his own, while Sango shifted to her other side, walking backwards in front of them to ensure that Kagome didn't topple over or lose her balance.

"Kagome wants to eat dinner with us," Sango said as a genuine smile spread across her face.

"Ah, that is a welcome treat!" Miroku said. "It's been far too long since we've had your presence at a meal." He gave her a grin as he shifted his grip slightly to help support her, and Kagome felt her face flush.

"I'm," she panted, out of breath from such a casual activity, "really sorry," she blurted out, her step staggering a little, but Sango's reactions were much quicker than her own, and she easily caught her, shifting the weight so that Kagome remained upright. Not that Miroku would have let her crash to the floor, but not slumping bonelessly against him was a matter of pride. She should be able to walk the few feet to the fire and not collapse!

"Nonsense," Miroku said, as Sango arranged the cushion so that Kagome could lean back against the wall and support herself. "We're just glad that you're feeling better. We've all missed you. All of us." Both he and Sango lowered her to the cushion under Kaede's watchful eye. Once she was settled, Miroku let her arm slide away from his neck, and Sango dragged a blanket over her outstretched legs, tucking it in against her thighs.

Sango took the seat next to her, leaving the other open for Kaede next to the pot.

Initially, Kagome thought that she'd be nervous, that they'd be angry at her for wasting so much time, for being so useless, but that's not the case at all. They look at her like she's given them the gift of her presence. They're excited about having dinner with her, and it feels weird. This should be so normal, but it's not. Not anymore. And the guilt about it is surprising.

"I will fetch," Miroku's eyes flashed to hers before continuing, "the rest of our friends." Taking a moment to look at everyone, he stands and walks out of the hut.

"Why does he look so tired?" Kagome asked, leaning towards Sango. She tried to keep her voice low, and Sango leaned towards her to listen. "He's not sick, is he?"

"Miroku is fine. He's been doing some research for Kaede." She nodded her head at the older woman, who was pulling a bowl from the stack, already handing her a small spoon.

Kagome turned to look at Kaede, confusion evident on her face as Kaede sighed as she ladled food into a bowl and handed it carefully to Kagome.

"We will explain more once everyone is here. For now, eat."

"But I can wait until everyone gets here," Kagome offered.

"Ye will have questions, and I want ye to eat before ye get distracted."

"But—"

"Eat, Kagome, so I don't have to put up with obnoxious hounds and foxes."

Kagome huffed, but took a small bite of the meal, to which Kaede smiled as she handed a bowl to Sango.

"Ah, Inuyasha approaches," Kaede said, looking towards the door, and Kagome followed her gaze, unaware of, well, everything at this point.

"You're sure that you're okay?" Sango asked and Kagome nodded. She was. She was. If she said it enough, it would be true.

"Eat, Kagome," Kaede reminded her, encouraging her.

She heard Miroku enter first, his voice was low and he paused as he entered, looking to Sango who nodded at his unspoken request. He stepped forward, heading towards the cushion he'd occupied earlier.

The reed mat shifted just a moment later, and a painfully familiar flash of red appeared. He froze, a deer in the headlights, and she could see his nose working, sniffing the air. She missed feeling his youki and knowing when he was near. It was informative but also comforting.

His eyes alighted on hers, but he remained statuesque, even his ears were still. She wanted to speak to him, say something, anything that would pull him back to her. But the words froze in her throat, and as she swallowed the bite she'd just taken, they sank back into her stomach to rot with the rest of them.

"Inuyasha, do ye want dinner or not?" Kaede asked, breaking the silence. His gaze broke away from her, flitting over to the elderly miko. "Do ye plan to stay or leave?"

Kagome watched the exchange carefully. Kaede was asking him something else. She was asking him something unsaid or between the lines, but Kagome didn't know where to look to find the secret message. Instead, it just felt like she'd missed one more thing, because Sango and Miroku were looking at him expectantly. Like they knew the answer he was going to give. She felt pretty sure of his answer too, because she knew that face, that expression.

If it had been anyone else, they might have thought him almost stoic, a blankness passing over his head, but she caught the slight widening of his eyes, the slight downward twist of his ears, she knew his face, even after all this time, she knew when Inuyasha was afraid.

He was afraid of her, but that didn't stop her from hoping that he'd answer differently than she expected.

Let him stay.

Please.

Let him stay.

"St—I'm staying," he said, taking a small step forward towards the fire. He looked back at Kagome, only to look away when she met his gaze.

She was so sure that he would flee. He'd always done so before when he was uncomfortable, and the idea that he was suddenly uncomfortable because of her made the thing that she was trying to encourage to grow, wither a little, but he wasn't leaving. And that was something.

At least he was here.

Shippo came in, face lighting up when he saw her, and he leapt towards her. Miroku was the one to snatch him mid-leap, stopping him from landing in her lap.

"Shippo, no jumping, remember?"

"I wasn't hurting her!"

"No jumping," he reminded, and Shippo hung limply from Miroku's grasp.

Inuyasha sat down, slowly, clearly uncomfortable, at the cushion that was the farthest from her, but it was a step in the right direction. At least he was here with her, and he didn't look completely miserable.

"No jumping," Shippo agreed, and Miroku released him. Shippo still ran towards her, but obviously more mindful than he had been previously. She could hear him muttering her name on repeat, tail practically wagging in excitement.

"Hey, Shippo," she said, setting her bowl in her lap as he nuzzled into her side.

He rubbed his cheek against her, repeating, "Kagome," in a low whine, as he did.

She looked up at Sango and Miroku, who were both watching with wide-eyes.

"Shippo, are you okay?" She looked to Inuyasha for some guidance, but he just let out a sigh at the small kit's reaction. She nudged Shippo with her hand, trying to look at his face, but he wouldn't budge from where he'd buried his face into her side and wrapped tiny arms as far as they would go. He merely shook his head and burrowed in even deeper.

"Let Shippo be for the moment, Kagome," Kaede suggested, handing Inuyasha a bowl of stew.

"But—" She looked down at Shippo's head as he curled up into a ball still holding onto her.

"He missed you," Miroku stated with a nod towards the small youkai. He took a bite of his own meal.

The guilt settled into her gut again. She'd been selfish, and she hadn't considered how much she'd been hurting everyone else.

There were parts of her that felt—raw?—like an open wound, and they were the parts that hurt so badly that she knew she needed to tend to them, but the thought of focusing on them at all made her stomach roll.

But she needed to focus on other things. Because the thought of retreating to that deep dark pit to analyze all the ways she'd screwed up—she'd deal with all that later. Just not now.

Right now, the fire was warm on her feet, her friends were all smiling and eating, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Kagome felt halfway normal. She took a couple more bites, chewing thoroughly, chancing glances at the hanyou across the fire, who wasn't looking at her, but he was inhaling dinner, so that wasn't too out of the ordinary. When you ate that quickly, it was probably best that he didn't look away lest he impale himself with a chopstick or other utensil.

"Shippo, don't you want dinner?" She asked him.

He shook his head.

"I'll eat later," he mumbled into her side.

"Don't worry, Kagome. Shippo hasn't missed a meal yet," Kaede said, gesturing vaguely to Kagome's own bowl in her lap. "I doubt he will miss one now. Right now, ye need to focus on ye's own meal."

Kagome took a couple more bites as Shippo clung to her side. She shifted her legs lightly to alleviate some of the discomfort of crossing her ankles.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" Sango asked, her eyes scanning across Kagome's form as if cataloging any possible signs of discomfort.

"I'm okay. I just needed to shift a little."

"You should be in bed if you're that weak," Inuyasha commented dryly. Kagome's gaze snapped to him, but he wasn't looking at her, instead he focused on the bowl in front of him.

He spoke to her. He spoke to her!

Granted, it wasn't exactly the nicest thing that he could've said after almost a month of isolation. But maybe things were looking up? Maybe he wasn't going to just completely ignore her from here on out?

She started to speak, inhaling to snap a response, but she couldn't muster up the courage to say anything. Not to him. She didn't want to make things worse.

"Does—Does anyone know what happened to me? Earlier, I mean."

"Kagome, eat!" Shippo whined, nudging her elbow with his hands.

"I'm eating, Shippo," she said, reaching her hand around to pat his back. He whined in response and continued to nudge her hand back towards the bowl. He didn't want her affection; he wanted her to eat.

She looked to Miroku and Sango for some guidance.

"He will feel better once ye finish eating your meal," Kaede explained. Kagome opened her mouth to speak, but Kaede held up her hand. "We will speak more once that bowl is empty."

Kagome huffed, but she continued eating until her bowl was empty of all the chunks, leaving the broth behind. She set it to the side near Kaede, as close as she could, and then leaned back against the wall. She was so full.

"More?" Shippo insisted.

"I'm already so full, Shippo. If I eat anymore, I'll throw up." She looked down at him, and the notion that she'd eaten as much as she could seemed to satisfy this worry.

She hadn't meant it to get this bad. She'd never wanted to cause him this much upset. And not just Shippo, but all of them.

She'd been cruel, hadn't she?

Without realizing it, she'd been punishing them for sins that weren't theirs to be punished for.

"How about you eat your dinner?" She suggested, and he hesitated, but finally nodded his own agreement.

Kagome patted her lap with her free hand, and Shippo stared at the empty spot before glancing across the fire.

Inuyasha mumbled something under his breath, but Kagome didn't quite catch what it was. Before she could ask him about it, Shippo carefully climbed into her lap and accepted his bowl from Kaede. He ate partially curled against her stomach.

"Perhaps, now would be a good time," Kaede said, quiet and glancing at Sango and Miroku.

A faint fear trickled over her. She'd been here before. They'd done this exact same thing once before. And it felt like it had broken her.

They couldn't—they weren't sending her away again, right? Sango had said—her eyes flitted back forth across all the people in the room.

"Kagome," Sango started. "We made a mistake." Sango shifted on her cushion, bringing her knees up to her chest.

Oh God, they were sending her home. They were going to send her away again. They made a mistake in bringing her back, in encouraging her to stay. They'd realized just how useless she was. The attacks. No reiki. They were going to toss her in the well this time and never bring her back.

Her chest felt tight, and she fought down the urge to dart for the storage room. There was no way she could make it. They'd stop her before she even got to her feet.

"Kagome?" Shippo asked her, looking up at her with a concerned look on his face.

"I'm okay," she said, patting him lightly. "I'm okay," she repeated, but this time it came out more as a pain whisper.

"Kagome, do you know what I've been researching for Kaede?" Miroku asked, and the question diverted her focus for just a moment.

"No?" She answered with a shake of her head.

"Curses," he answered simply. He waited to see if she made any connection, but she really wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to gather from that.

"Okay," she answered hesitantly. "But why would you need to spend so much time on that?" She looked to Kaede, striving for some sort of information that would make sense of all this. She looked back at Miroku, whose gaze flitted over to Kaede.

"Child, we are not sure exactly when such a thing occurred, but it is most likely that ye have been cursed."

"Cursed?" Her voice sounded surprised, but she knew exactly when it happened. "But how—"

Kikyo.

The lake.

But she couldn't say much without giving it all away.

"Kagome," Sango leaned forward to grab her hand. "We're doing everything we can to get rid of it."

"I'm—I'm cursed?" Kagome stared at their joined hands, and Shippo let out a low whine. "Are you sure?" Shippo set his bowl down and burrowed his face into her chest.

"Aye. This last attack only confirmed our beliefs."

"Which brings us to an important question," Miroku started. "What happened right before the attack? We need to know that trigger so we can avoid it in the future, but to also make the counter curse more effective."

Kagome tilted her head at the question. The attack? But she wasn't attacked?

"Kagome, what happened to you right before you passed out?" Sango rephrased Miroku's question when it was clear that she didn't understand.

Her hand drifted to her neck, the bandages under her fingers felt rough and tight around her neck. The entire thing felt fuzzy to her memory, and she was kinda glad about it. She really didn't want to remember anything about it or what it felt like, because the only thing that came vividly to her mind was the fear. Fear that she would die in that little room. She didn't want to remember what would make her feel that way.

"Do you remember what set off the curse?" Sango asked her.

Kagome strained to remember, but there was nothing that seemed out of place. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it was all fuzzy. The last clear thing that she remembered before everything hurt was—

"Kaede took out my stitches." Her hand drifted up to her shoulder. The last clear place of memory for her in the past few days. "The ones in my shoulder were tight."

"Aye, that's right," Kaede said with a nod. "Anything else?"

Kagome thought about it, but she couldn't—there was just—she knew that something had happened, but she couldn't describe it.

What had happened to her?

"You were clawing at your neck," Sango added. "Like someone was choking you."

Kagome's fingers drifted over the bandages across her neck.

"There was no air," she whispered. "I couldn't breathe." She focused on them.

"That does explain some things."

"What is the curse supposed to do?"

At this point, it became quiet in the small hut.

"Nothing good, I assure ye," Kaede answered. "But we need to know the caster of the curse to be more sure. Do ye remember who cast such a terrible thing?"

The air was sharp and burning to her nose. Her eyes drifted to Inuyasha of their own accord, and she thought about it. She really did. The name right there on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Kikyo.

It would be so easy. Just one word. Five letters.

Kikyo.

But—

Her eyes drifted to Kikyo's sister seated next to her.

And she couldn't.

She couldn't destroy Kaede's view of her sister.

It was wrong to speak ill of the dead, wasn't it? She shouldn't corrupt what little was left of Kikyo's image in their eyes, even if—

"Kagome?" Miroku asked, drawing Kagome back into the conversation. Several sets of eyes stared at her with obvious and varying degrees of concern.

"I'm fine."

Shippo nuzzled into her stomach much more gently than he ever did before.

"Shippo?" She looked down at the small kit.

"Not fine," he mumbled into her yukata.

"You look like you're about to keel over," Inuyasha pointed out, making his stare obvious as he seemed to take inventory of her. Kagome squirmed under the intensity of all their eyes.

"I'm fine," she answered.

"Kagome," Sango started, shifting towards her. "Do you want to go lay down? You've been through a lot the past few days."

"No, I can stay!" She insisted.

"Kagome, no one will think any less of ye if ye go lie down. Ye are still recovering."

Honestly though, hadn't she been recovering for weeks now? She was so done with this. She wanted to be the Kagome from before again; she just didn't know how to get there from here.

"I can stay," she repeated, though her insistence was weaker now.

They couldn't send her away again, even if it was to another room. She wanted to stay. She always wanted to stay.

Sango shifted so that she was sitting right next to Kagome against the wall, nudging her to lay against her shoulder.

There was a harsh growl from the other side of the fire.

"Do something about it, I dare you," Sango muttered, and Inuyasha huffed loudly, making a show of crossing his arms across Tetsusaiga.

"Kagome, you didn't answer earlier, but do you remember what happened after we found you in the woods?"

Kagome tried to figure out how to answer that question. She knew that it was coming, and there was nothing that he could do.

"I remember—pieces."

"Can you tell us what you do remember?" Sango asked her, as she moved her hand to pat Shippo's head as he sat in her lap.

"I remember the fight with the boars. And then being—dragged away." Shippo grabbed her fingers and rubbed his cheek against them. "There was a lake. The water

was really cold. And then something—" her fingers danced over the newly unstitched line in her arm, "And then—I was here."

"That's it?" Miroku asked and Kagome nodded.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't apologize," he countered. "It was not an easy time for you, and the memory loss may be due to your head wound or even the curse itself."

But it wasn't. Not really. She knew who cursed her, but the more she thought about it, the more that secret seemed like it should go with her to her own grave, whether or not Kikyo had returned to her own.

Because what, in all the heavens, could possibly go wrong if she told them the truth?

Her hand drifted up to the newly formed scar on her arm, the one that Kikyo's arrow gave her. She knew it was hers. Who else would shoot an arrow at her and while she was underwater no less? Before, Kagome always knew when Kikyo was near. She'd thought that it was because their reiki was similar, but she'd never been able to tell when Kaede was near or Miroku for that matter. If she had, his ability to peep on them while bathing would've been managed much more effectively. But that's in the past now.

She let out a sigh as she let her head rest on Sango's proffered shoulder, just to let the weight of fate off her own for just a moment.

Something draped over her shoulders, and she opened her eyes to see Inuyasha taking a seat across the fire again.

"Sorry, didn't mean to doze off," she mumbled, straightening herself up and rubbing her eyes that felt too dry.

"You should go to bed, Kagome," Shippo said from underneath her blanket.

"Yeah, that might not be a bad idea. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing, would ya?" Inuyasha grumbled, poking the fire with a stick.

She opened her mouth to apologize again but stopped herself. It bothered him. Sango and Miroku helped her to her feet, gimping her way back to the storage room.

Glancing back at the main room, she wondered what Inuyasha was feeling right now. He'd been so different during dinner. Closer to how he acted before the accident.

But Kikyo drifted between them like she always did, and it was difficult enough to divine what he really thought about her, Kagome, when she had her powers. Now it just felt like moving through a maze in pitch darkness barefoot with glass covering the floor. No way not to sustain an injury here and there.

And it hit her again, that flare of her own reiki, bright and blistering, that it made her gasp and stagger a step at its intensity.

It wants out.

It wants out so badly that its willing to burn her up in the process.

"Kagome?" Miroku asked, hands steadying her as she falters under the weight of feeling again.

And then it's gone, and the recoil knocked her out of their grip, nails scraping skin on both sides of the exchange. But the snap is a hard hit to her body, except the pressure does not relinquish once she hits the floor, like someone's thin and bony fingers are squeezing her heart, daring it to continue beating when they've so clearly warned her to—just—stop—fighting. This is a punishment for her own defiance of the natural law.

She should be dead.

She should've died.

And she would be dead once more.

It's sharper and unforgiving this time. It will not be made a fool of twice.

She can feel the nails digging into the soft muscle of her chest and heart, and she knows that any second now it's going to falter and burst.

At least this time, she can breathe.

And so she screams.

Feel familiar, little girl?

A/N: I mean, you didn't think it was over, right?

Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments, I love you all!