InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ And all else will fade ❯ Desperation... and Revelation ( Chapter 2 )

Sango

 

The blood tinged darkness cleared slowly, like the effect produced by a finger-flick against a beaker of super-saturated solution. The clink of metal, the rustle of cloth and the sound of purposeful footsteps against the rock-strewn ground sounded ominous to my ears. My heart raced with a speed unknown to any man, and a sudden surge of adrenaline nearly toppled me over. I was afraid- yes, very afraid, but painful, impossible hope clouded my soul at the same time, leading to a heady mix of emotions that was equal to any torture I might have faced as a demon-slayer, before.

 

Even more.

 

The source of the sounds that was causing me so much pain materialised in the distance- a black, small silhouette approaching closer and closer… Finally, I could see… him. Painfully empty brown eyes stared back at me, small, familiar, hands wielded the dangerous katana, holding it in a strategic position, so that, if thrown, it would pierce my heart.

 

Kohaku, my brother… a cold monster, controlled by Naraku.

 

I dropped the Hiraikatsu by my side and rushed to him, my vision blurred by tears, my arms open, to envelop him in an embrace. “Kohaku!” I cried out, my voice cracking. As my arms closed around him, and his brown eyes showed a spark of emotion, I felt great hope… yes, Kohaku was remembering… remembering all those times we spent together in training, playing, his family, village, his old life, which was filled with such love, harmony… a life that was rudely cut short.

 

That moment did not last long, however.

 

His katana came up and about, driving deep into my chest, blasting me into whole new galaxies of pain. He stepped back, taking his katana excruciatingly slowly out of my body, the blade skidding through tissue, muscle and organs. I fell down on a pool of my own blood.

 

“Sorry, sister, but you cannot fool me.”

 

With that, he was gone… and with him all hope, all purpose, all good…

 

-

 

“Um, Sango? Sango?!”

 

I opened my eyes and sat up with a start, brow dotted with cold sweat. Kagome was beside me, her brown eyes radiating concern and sympathy. “Sango, are you okay, now? You were screaming a few moments ago and…” Kagome trailed off, not wanting to continue. Shippo bounced up to stand beside the young miko. “Yeah, Sango, you okay?”

 

I looked away, getting to my feet. Sympathy. Ugh, how I hated that word! It was nothing but a waste of emotional strength, and finally, it served no real purpose. Sympathy was for weak, impractical idiots, who can't move on after one failure. It was definitely not for me.

 

“I am quite all right, Kagome,” I said quietly. While Shippo started with his endless “Really? Are you sure?”, Kagome nodded and remained silent, for which I was grateful to her.

 

I headed off to a nearby stream and washed my face. I stared into the water, my reflection rippling gently in the calm waters. The strain was evident: my pale countenance, the circles under my eyes and the ultimate, tired, glazed look in my irises scared me. Was I allowing my own emotions about Kohaku to master me? That can't be good. The more I allowed myself to wallow in self-pity, the less chance I had to defeat Naraku and find a way to get my brother back.

 

When you're a demon slayer, as a rule, you don't let your emotions cloud your judgement. When pity is felt whenever a demon is killed, it only serves an impediment to the successful completion of the extermination- if it is not successful, then it only ends in slaughter of human lives.

 

One of the reasons Kohaku hadn't been as quick as he should've been while climbing up the ranks of demon-slayers had been his compassion. He would mope about even the smallest demon that had been killed ruthlessly. I would laugh about it then, but now, I realise that it had been the one quality that had made Kohaku… be himself. Unique. Maybe he was not the best demon-slayer, but he had been the kindest and most compassionate person in the entire village.

 

And when I compare that Kohaku with the cold, empty, ruthless person I see today…

 

I was almost glad I was the only person from my family to suffer the heartache.

 

Get a hold of yourself, Sango, I instructed myself, shaking my head. I didn't want to worry the others by putting on a gloomy face; they had enough worries on their plate already.

 

I went back to the camp, where I found that the others were already preparing to leave. Kagome was scolding Inu Yasha for something- his face was almost completely buried in the ground, thanks to her incessant commands of “SIT!!”- Shippo was enjoying the spectacle while hefting Kagome's extraordinarily heavy bag onto her strange vehicle (bicycle, she called it) and Kirara was leisurely licking her paws. And Miroku…

 

Wait, where was Miroku?

 

I voiced my question aloud, to which Kagome spared Inu Yasha for a couple of moments to answer, “I don't know, Sango. I haven't seen him since last night.” She cast a glare at Inu Yasha, who had just started to get up, tentatively massaging his bruised face. “He says that we shouldn't waste time looking for him, that Miroku will catch up.”

 

The half-demon scowled. “I didn't phrase it like that, you wench. He must have gone for a walk somewhere around here.”

 

While Kagome picked up the fierce argument (it couldn't be called an argument, really; she didn't allow Inu Yasha a chance to get a word in), I lapsed into my own thoughts. Call me paranoid, but I had a really bad feeling that the lecherous monk was in some kind of danger, terrible danger… No, I couldn't just let another person I care about be taken away from me. I couldn't. I made my decision.

 

I picked up the Hiraikatsu. “Kirara!” I called. She came almost immediately, transforming into her true demon self. I jumped onto her and we began to leave.

 

“Hey, Sango! Where are you going?!” Kagome asked. I looked at her. “I'm going to look for Miroku,” I said with quiet conviction that effectively silenced any doubts she might have wanted to voice.

 

With that, Kirara and I took off.

 

Inu Yasha stared at Kagome for a second, and then shook his head. He turned around, beckoning for Kagome to climb onto his back.

 

“How is it that you inevitably win the argument?”

 

……………………… ;………………………R 30;…………………………&# 8230;………………

 

 

After a couple of hours, we met up at the camping place again, despair and the heat sapping our strength. I got down from a very tired Kirara, my forehead creased with worry. We had even been to his Munshin's place, but the old man hadn't seen him for a while, either. It wasn't like Miroku to leave without telling us. He may be lecherous, but I was sure… at least had been sure… that he had some sense.

 

Inu Yasha clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration while Kagome got down from his back, her face taking on worry lines similar to mine. “The stupid monk!” Inu Yasha cried out, unable to hold back his anger anymore. “Hasn't he learnt his lesson already? I mean for the second time…” he trailed off sputtering, his anger overwhelming him to the point where he couldn't express it coherently.

 

“What do you mean, Inu Yasha?” I asked, though I knew perfectly what he had meant. I just didn't want to think about it. It was, strangely, painful.

 

The half-demon gave me an unexpectedly perceptive, knowing glance. “You know very well what I mean, Sango.”

 

Damn. How did the hanyou get so perceptive? Or are all those months of hanging around with Kagome finally rubbing off on him?

 

Kagome gave a small smile. “Too bad one of Naraku's insects isn't there to guide us to him this time.”

 

The half-hearted attempt at humour served only to cause my heart to drop to my sandals. The last time, his black hole had been nicked, and he had gone to Munshin's without telling us to fix it, where he nearly got killed by a horde of demons… We had managed to save him just in the nick of time, having been lead to him by one of Naraku's poisonous insects.

 

Now, though…

 

Now, we might just be too late.

 

The thought of that possibility stung more than Naraku's acid-blood. With Miroku dying, or dead, I felt loneliness that I never thought a human would be capable of feeling. I had never really paid attention to my feelings about the monk- sure, I had had occasional flutters of affection for him, which would be inevitably spoiled by his lecherous advances toward me. But maybe, just maybe, my feelings for him ran deeper than that…

 

I had always harboured a distinct admiration for Miroku; to bear the black hole and the burgeoning certainty that he would soon have to make a violent transition to the ranks of the dead, just like his forefathers did, with such bravery and outward cheerfulness and optimism commanded a lot of power of character. Which was also why I didn't understand why he had to be such a womaniser.

 

His capers, strangely, always cheered me up. Sometimes, when I looked into the depths of his enigmatic indigo-blue eyes, I felt like he knew understood me to my very core, that he felt true sadness for what I was suffering; that he even looked at me with… with…

 

A shrill, awed whistle from Shippo and a growl from Kirara derailed my train of thought.

 

“What is that?” the young kitsune cried, his voice wrought with fear and curiosity.

 

I shifted my gaze to the object of his curiosity. Inu Yasha's and Kagome's gazes followed mine. A black funnel cloud seemed to rise from the nearby woods, nearly blocking out the sun. For a moment, I wondered if it might be Naraku, making one of his more grandiose entrances, but as the funnel cloud came closer to us, and I had a feel of its immense energy, I realised even Naraku wasn't capable of such dark energy- it was something worse. Kagome swayed and nearly fell; Inu Yasha caught her just in the nick of time. He raised a concerned, questioning glance up at me.

 

I did not answer, though I had an inkling of what the problem with Kagome might be. Her perceptive senses were much more sensitive than mine, and if I could feel the dark energy so profoundly, it must be overwhelming her senses, much like how too much smells overwhelmed Inu Yasha's sensitive nose.

 

The cloud materialised into what might vaguely taken for a human silhouette. A voice boomed from no where.

 

“Mortals, you seek the monk, do you not?”

 

Wow. Doesn't it get to the point immediately.

 

“So what if we do, huh?” Inu Yasha said, his hand moving toward the handle of the Tetsusaiga.

 

“Do not interrupt, infidel,” it said, in a supremely disinterested tone. A great power blew, blasting Inu Yasha back a couple of metres. He lay on the ground, unmoving. “Inu Yasha!” Kagome cried weakly.

 

She stumbled toward the fallen hanyou. I remained fixed in my stance, however, strangely mesmerised by the dark creature. The silhouette turned fractionally to face me. I could swear that it grinned.

 

That was before it once again dispersed into a cloud, blowing with the rage of a cyclone toward us… no toward me. The dark energy entered me, sweeping and tiding into every pore of my skin, travelling through my blood, reaching a crescendo within my brain…

 

I fell to my knees, clutching my head.

 

Suddenly, I knew- knew everything, what had happened to Miroku, what was going to happen to us, what we must do…

 

And I didn't like it one bit.