InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Monster ❯ Part One ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: Ok guys, this in reality is a one-shot, but a very long one, and I don’t know about you, but when I see one of those that goes on for miles and miles, I usually get discouraged and turn away. So, in light of that predicament, I have broken it up into parts, and will update them like a regular story. I hope that this is alright, and that you like my story.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Inuyasha characters, though how I wish I did. But of any of you steal my masterpiece, aka. plot to this story, I will personally order Inuyasha to use his Wind Scar on you. Thank you!

Category: Anime: Inuyasha

Genre: Adventure/Action/Angst/Drama/Horror/Romance

Rating: R (M) just to be safe, mainly for gore and descriptive scenes.

Summary: His eyes were deep pools of magma, burning and smoldering in the depths of the cave. His breath was hot embers against her deadening skin, burning and singeing her quivering body. And his talons were lethal knives, poised and ready, willing to slaughter all who got in his way.


Naraku, a cold heartless hanyou that once held the heart of the notorious thief Onigumo. His tentacles had slaughtered thousands, snaring their lives and toying with them until their last agonizing breath fell from their parched lips. He was a monster, a cretin that devoured the hearts of the innocence of childhood, and raped the souls of lovers. He was Satan. A living devil that lost his morals for the love of a corrupt corpse that refused to lay in peace.

His eyes were hollow tunnels that led to an endless pit of despair. He had no feelings, numb from any form of emotion, a shell of a beast that had died centuries ago. He felt no pain as each agonizing Wind Scar cut through his battled flesh. No hurt welled his senses as the boomerang of wrath cut through his body, his innards sliced and torn. He felt no remorse for the curse that he himself had placed upon the monk line when the wind pulled rapidly against his weakening facade. His body was numb when gouging teeth dug deep within his shoulder, pulling muscle and vein from the bone. And, when the final blow occurred, he only laughed at his own defeat, their torment was far from over. Though they had suffered both family and friend for their cause, rescuing and saving even the one’s who scorned their existence, Buddha had not shown them mercy.
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Kagome notched her arrow, watching for the opportune time to deal the final strike that would
ensure the death of their sworn enemy. Her heart ached with each sign of the blood pouring upon the ground, and each agonizing scream of her loyal comrades. She had once shown pity upon this creature before her, he had lost his one love, torturing him more than physical pain could ever do.
But he had gone too far.

He was innocent; a sweet child who had everything to live for, and was finally seeing his new family for the first time. His eyes of emerald that shown with such trust, and his tiny hands that clutched her’s with such warmth would never be depended upon again. His eyes now void of the life he once showed, and his hands cold with the halted flow of his life nourishing fluid. Shippo. Her Shippo, was gone, and joining his parents within the sweet recesses of heaven, far away from any form of anger and hatred.

The loss far from halted there, for the one that her beloved friend had fought both night and day for, had given his life in the heart of battle. His sickle, a weapon created for his own skilled hands, was driven forcefully into the walls of his chest, splitting the heart, and killing his body. She could still see Sango’s heartfelt anguish as each syllable that floated up from her throat was drown out by the roars of battle.

Tears had been shed further, lives carelessly thrown about as each member of their enlarging pack dwindled down into a select few. Inuyasha, her hanyou, had now become the sole heir to the Western Lands. His brother, with the ravishing hair of silver, was caked with drying matter, his skin clammy, reeking with the scent of death.

Others followed suit. Kagura, Jaken, Rin, Kikyou, Ginta and Hakaku. All perishing, at the hands of the one that they had fought so long to stop. Their desires burning to destroy him, feel his blood run from their claws and drip onto the hard floor. Their dreams urging them onwards, to see a life in which they did not cower in terror every time a bird sang in the distance.

Kagome’s eyes hardened as each remembrance came back to her tenfold, each heart wrenching episode unfolding before her gaze. Anger seeped in, though how desperately she tried to control it, it came, beckoning and hissing to her, telling her to let it all go. Her energy, so full of power now, leashed out against her own will, reaching for the one that had caused her most pain.

Closing her eyes, Kagome gained control of her overwhelming abilities, storing them deep into the hidden crevices of her body. Hiding them so they caused no one harm in which she did not wish their destruction.

The wind scar, Inuyasha’s trade mark attack, flowed fluently from the end of the large fang of lore. Its length stretching far from its owner, unleashing a strip of power that would by far go down in the books of history, spanning longer than the dear sword itself would ever hope too.

The master of that weapon looked deep into the pits of Hell, grinding his teeth with effort as each huff became strenuous. His demonic energy was brought forth, and thrown into each new wave of energy that seeped from the gleaming weapon, and sprouted outwards forming large crevices in the dirt below.

The Hiraikotsu screamed through the violent air, destroying numerous youkai in its path as it continued on to it original destination. Kagome watched intently, each weapon that hit, was that much closer to their true destination. She mentally celebrated as the monstrous being was tore in to two halves, blood spraying everywhere.

Choking, and tears lining her burning orbs, she tried to clear her vision of the red liquid that showered her. Its sticky mixture causing her to reel back in slight disgust, the thick coating dripping slowly down her face and falling on her cracked lips. Kagome, unaware of her actions, opened her mouth in a silent gasp as another downfall was brought forth, and a bitter taste assaulted her senses.

The wind. A powerful force alone, but when controlled by a spiraling vortex that went on for dimensions, it became far worse. Trying to regain her senses, Kagome aimed, notching her arrow with precision only one could muster after years of use. Her precision had greatly improved since she first shot it and sent the Shikon no Tama spiraling through the skies, thus sending them all on this perilous journey. And, creating a pact that could not be broken, herself becoming the soul protector of the time dimensions.

Breathing in, she waited for the signal from the cursed man, in whom she held full trust, and wished nothing but prosperity for in future years. For all his hopes and dreams to become realities, and to not live with the curse of his family forevermore. A trickle of salt ran down her cheek, and a memory long lost arose from deep within its grave. A memory so desolate, that she had hoped it would be buried til the end of times, but for her, well, Buddha did not agree.

Fear crashed deep within her chest, burning and caving in on her new found strength of long ago. Kagome had gained dependancy in her own abilities, and rejoiced in the knowledge that she could indeed provide for herself if the need ever arose, though Inuyasha would not hear of it. But, like each grand gift within our world, it comes with a price, sometimes equal, others far beyond what the present itself is truly worth.

A hand gripped her heart, squeezing until it was too painful to breath, to painful to think as her body grew numb, and the roar of her blood flared to life in her skin. Her body felt wrong, her soul not truly within its containment, but floating within the heavens, looking down upon the war which had been raging for centuries beforehand, and centuries to come.

Her grandfather, so wise in his own way of life, yet so naive in all aspects concerning the world beyond the shrine. But he had realized one thing, and that one thing had turned her world around. Kagome, unable to take life without reason, had a terrible burden placed upon her shoulders, weighing and bearing down upon her frame. He had lifted a golden pendant, dirty with age and time, he had held it to her neck, and slipped it simply over her raven head.

She had watched in wonderment as each imperfection slowly slipped away before her wondrous gaze. Each scrape and dent had been lifted, the remnants of each scar engraved only now within her mind. The jewel, so perfect in itself, had started glowing, and shooting of energy from all angles, lighting the small shack. She had been thrown from the impact, her head knocking hard against the back wall, and her skull cracking under the pressure. Her world had swirled for only moments, her screams falling on deaf ears as she watched her elderly ancestor take a beating upon his dying body.

She had awoken, her senses dazed and puzzled as her frame refused to listen to each command she ordered. Her eyes had blurred relentlessly, bringing objects together as one, and smooth texture becoming fuzzy with unconsciousness.

Minutes ticked by, and with each passing of the hand, another part of her body came to life. Her eyes had taken in the scene, and sent urgent telegraphs to her uncomprehending head. As things cleared, and she came back, a sticky substance came to her attention, and caused her to sit up in alarm.

Blood. A large pool of it lined the ground, and Kagome tentatively touched the back of her aching skull, a wince forming when her fingers graced the wound. Dried blood flaked off into her palm, and grimace of both disgust and agony appeared across her porcelain face. But not so much so as she slowly turned her form to see to her side, and terror washed its way through her system.

Her grandfather’s corpse lay cold and still beside her own, his glazed over expression something only the peace of death can bring forth. His hair, tousled and torn, lay within a breath’s touch away. His silky strands fell into her hands, and tears flowed down as each fine lock fell from his scalp at the gentlest of touches.

Kagome shook her head, her emotions becoming uncontrollable, and her concentration waning with each turning of the page. Her eyes shone with unshed tears as each thought kept brewing deep within her scarred and tattered soul, refusing to leave her damaged self be. Oh, how she longed for the days of childhood, of just two years previous when she worried only about tests, and nosy friends.

Notching her arrow once again, a state of nonchalance fell over her earlier worries, and let her mind drift to a realm where tranquility reigned supreme. The time was drawing near when all their work would be paid off, and her long strenuous journey would come to an end, and she would be allowed to take off the weight of this time’s troubles.
Pulling the string tight, unable to stretch it any further, Kagome mentally counted the seconds as the time stream moved forward. One, she evened her breath, calming the anxiousness that overwhelmed her small form. Two, aiming her arrow, her eyes locked with his crimson rubies that mocked her. Three, her fingers released the weapon, the projectile slicing through the air with her miko powers surround it from all sides.

Hitting the wall of his chest, the future girl watched in curiosity and horror as the great beast smirked back at her. His eyes describing fantasies of which she did not wish to see, of times that she hoped would not come to be. She watched in fear as his mouth opened, and two fangs dripped with saliva shot from his opened appendage, shooting towards her love.

Screams filled the land, but know one heard until the deed was done, and their fates were sealed. His body shattered into pieces, the large chunks lining the ground before they were quickly forced into the hole of the male’s hand. His haunted voice lingering within her mind’s ear, echoing their syllables until the night turned still once more.

Kagome turned to her fellow comrades, her face rejoicing slightly at the health of those who lived on. Sango, the tajiya, knelt at her brother’s body, weeping as heart cried out for her fellow kin. Her tiny youkai curled against her side, mewing to comfort her master’s grief.

The Hiraikotsu lay abandoned several yards away, the drying substances upon its surface, staining and branding it for the rest of the days. Many straps of leather, in which its master had thrown it by, were torn with use and age, and would need to be repaired immediately if it was to be used again.

Turning to the monk, a frown marred the future priestesses features, a look of fear etched deep within her chocolate orbs. Tears ran down Miroku’s face, but one’s not of joy, but of exasperation and depression. His wind tunnel, the one he had so hoped to disappear forevermore, still lingered within the palm of his cursed hand, and would leave him be, nevermore.

Kanna, the tiny albino child, looked at the scene before her with little to no remorse on her features. Her wounds were numerous, and she would soon pass on into the land of the dead before the night was through, if Kagome did not tend to her directly.

Stepping to her side, a sign of recognition passed through the younger of the two’s eyes before she turned once more to where her master had been killed.

“Kanna, let me help you with those wounds,” gathering her medical supplies, Kagome fell to her knees, watched out of the corner of her eye as the monk joined her.

“This one does not wish to be healed, this one only wishes to join her master in death,” her deadened eyes turned to the two warriors, her china face emotionless.

“Very well, I will respect your wishes,” shutting the lid to the kit, a look of sorrow fell over the raven haired beauty’s appearance.
“This one thanks you, Lady Kagome,” her head turned to the two, and for a small instance, empathy worked its way over her. “This one feels sorrow for you, for you did not gain the wish you wanted so.”

Miroku’s gaze fell to the ground, his eyes pained with the knowledge that he could not stop the vortex within his hand, and therefore would be forced to pass it down to future generations.

“Why did it not disappear when he did?” his heartfelt cry of despair brought tears to her own, her sniffling going unheeded as the small female continued.

“Naraku did not wish is to be so, and with that, he decided to make the curse permanent, unable to be lifted even after his death. There was a flaw within his plan though, one in which I believe you shall find likeable. You shall pass it down for generations to come, true, but, it will not grow in size. You will not have to worry about perishing as your forefathers did, nor will your offspring. It will become your strength, not your weakness. Think of it as a gift from the one who caused you most grief,” her eyes watched as a sense of dawning formed, and an inaudible joy bubbled just below the surface.

Tears continued their path down Kagome’s cheeks, but these ones of joy and praise as the future that had looked so bleak, now filled with a new found hope.

She arose, leaning against the strength of the monk who, himself, looked unable to bear his own weight. Looking behind her, she watched as her love pulled the ancient sword from his sibling’s belt, grasping the scabbard with a sense of dread.

Leaving her previous position, Kagome made her way to the hanyou, her eyes watching his every movement as he leaned his body against a nearby cliff. Pride filled her every pore as his grand stature stood before them, his once boyish features now changed to that of a full grown male.

A hand grasped her skirt, and shock jolted up her spine as she spied down upon her friend’s trembling form. Dropping to her knees, she embraced the elder woman, letting her cry her sorrow upon her shoulder, her tears moistening her white sailor shirt. An eery calm fell upon them as she hushed the other’s whimpering, ignoring the change of the wind.

“Kagome!” a yell of alarm brought her back from her escape of reality, awakening the present, or rather past, to her senses.

Twisting around, horror ripped its way through her bleeding heart, twisting and stabbing it til it laid dead and still. Inuyasha, her heart, stood their, his ears which so many loved, gone from existence. Amber eyes bled red, and his pupils a blue in which she had wished to never witness again. Claws were lengthened beyond what they should of been, as well as the fangs that poked his lower lip. And stripes, identical to that of his kin, lined his once unmarked cheek, now staggering their way across.

Two tiny pin pricks upon the side of his neck answered her unasked question. They were purple and bruised, two tiny holes where Naraku’s fangs had signed his fate. His wish, to let his youkai blood take hold, had come to be, and now she was left with the aching knowledge of her duty to destroy the threat to the time stream.

Kirara, fully transformed, raced to her side, and she felt her arm pulled and her feet leave the ground as Miroku hefted her onto the neko’s back. Tightening her arms around his waist, she turned her head to watch in vain as Kanna tried to take the soul of the new threat, and to only be cut down in cold blood.
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Tears cascaded down like never before, and the two friends looked on helplessly as the youngest wept for her loss. They had tried numerous times to console the girl, but both did not realize that she herself would be forced to take down the now heartless monster.

The hero of the story had become the killer, and she wished for nothing more than the nightmare she had previously been in. For this new one, was far worse than what she was accustomed too, and she did not wish for this to be so.

Her body quivered once again as her body was racked with heartfelt sobs, and her hands shook before her face. The salt liquid that leaked down stung her raw lips, and her burning nose, but she welcomed the physical pain, numbing slightly the emotional pain that was so fresh.

The fire before Kagome’s prone form proved fruitless to warm her frozen skin, her lungs hurting for the amount of cries. Her friends worried endlessly, it had been a week since the end, and all she had been doing was weeping, and then falling into a fitful slumber, only to awake with his name upon her lips.

Kaede, the ancient one of the group, prayed for the girl’s health, for she would not eat, and would only drink when her throat became so raw that each swallow of her saliva burned. She had watched her apprentice try in vain to fight the depression, and watched as she had succumbed to it, and welcomed it with open arms. The strength of the group, the one that always brought such joy with a smile upon her face no matter the peril, had given into the relentless torture of her soul as each day grew to an end, and another started anew.

Kagome sat up quickly, drying her face of the remaining streaks, and breathing slowly through her damaged lungs. Her grimace of pain only showing slightly as she stood upon her two feet, and walked into the moonlight’s glow, ignoring the incredulous stares and smiles of her friends.

She missed him, more than life itself, but she had not seen, nor heard of him for many a day now, and hoped beyond belief that some other had taken him down. For when it came down to it, she was not sure if she could fire the arrow, and lodge it deep within the cavity of his heart. She did not think she could watch him die slowly before her eyes, his blood staining her shoes as the pool grew more and more.

Kaede joined the small girl, hugging her into an embrace of compassion which she rarely showed. Her one good eye looked to the heavens, pleading with them for an answer in which there was known.

“Lady Kaede, what do you think the future holds?” her question, so pure and innocent, made the elder’s mouth go dry.

“Well child, I do not know, for I am not one of the blessed. But for ye child, I have a premonition that all will turn out for you in the end,” the miko’s comforting words made her smile in return.

“Thanks,” the simple word was so empty that the other felt her body drain of hope, and a new found sorrow filter in.

“Child, come, it is dark, and you need your sleep, for Sango will need help with the baby when the sun rises,” waddling her way to the door, Kagome followed, picturing the tiny bundle that laid in a crib in the hut.

“Yeah, Miroku’s going to start the home tomorrow. I still find it comical that we kept the baby hidden all those months,” Kaede glanced back at the girl, nodding her head in agreement.

“I agree, it is a miracle that the one we do not mention, did not find the precious child,” lifting the flap for the priestess of the village, Kagome looked back once more, forlornly mourning forevermore.
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“Sango, go rest, I can take care of Sakura for the time,” Kagome held the baby girl close, the small girl’s beaded hand grasping her finger tightly.

“But, I haven’t seen my daughter for so long, I yearn to be with her,” Sango’s pleading tone made the younger one smile with longing.

“Yes, yes, I know, but grant me this one request, and rest in the other room,” nodding with reluctance, Sango strolled into the adjoined room, her eyes drooping as soon as she turned her back.

Snuggling the girl further into her embrace, Kagome chuckled and cooed with warmth as the baby giggled with glee. Her free hand touched Sakura’s nose, and watched with amusement as the child crossed her eyes, and tried to see the bothersome touch. Wrinkling her nose, Sakura batted the hand away, and looked up with violet eyes at her care giver.

Sighing, a melancholy atmosphere fell upon the woman, resigning her to lean her head back against the wall as each breath became harder and harder. She had wished a many nigh, to just fall into slumber, and never arise again. But, each morning, as the sun cleared the horizon, she had opened her eyes, and started another day anew.

Standing, and deciding to leave the tajiya in peace, she carried the baby to where the hut was being constructed. The monk’s purple and black robes stuck out amongst the villagers’ more simple apparel, and caused him to move less skillfully than if he had worn less meddlesome things.

Laughing lightly at the scene, Kagome watched as each new board was tacked upon the beams, and each new nail was driven into the grains. Hearing her, Miroku turned around and waved good naturedly before slipping to the ground and moving to see his babe. His body was glowing with what only a father can, his eyes full of pride at his alive and healthy child.

Taking Sakura from her arms Miroku held her against the wall of his chest, nuzzling the dark hair of the girl. His cheek rested itself upon the forehead of the tiny being, breathing in the sweet scent of powder that the child radiated.

Handing her back to the miko, Miroku smiled one last time before returning to his duties, a hammer held within his grasp as he went.

Not truly wanting to return to the house, Kagome walked further into the town, not to return until the sun grew orange, and skies were painted different hues.
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Humming a soft tune to herself, the future miko picked her way carefully over the rutted path. The babe had long since fell into slumber, her quite breaths barely heard to the human’s ears as the trek continued onwards.

Staring down at the infant, a sudden agony, one in which she had never felt before, flowed fluently through her veins. Flooding her senses, causing her to stop and hold where her heart beats with a fisted hand. Try as she may, no comfort came, and she only stood silently breathing, trying her best to relinquish the constant jab of her ribcage.

Looking downwards once more, a sudden realization came forth, causing tears of anguish to spill once more. Many a nights she had dreamed of holding an infant such as this within her arms, cuddling it and nurturing it as any mother did. The babe would have dark midnight hair, whether male or female, she did not know, but on top of its velvet head, two ears would swivel about. She would never gain the dream which she had, had more than once.

Staring further into the sunset, a sense of cold loneliness filtered through, and she had to hug herself as best she could to keep her warmth. Though no wind arose, a strange prickle ran down her spine, tickling and stinging as a nervous nausea formed in the pit of her stomach. Racing as fast as she was able, a since of something askew formed, and the scent of change filled the air.
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The hut was utterly to quiet for her liking, no fire warmed the windows, no chatter warmed the room. Hesitant to step through the threshold, Kagome gathered the remains of her withering courage, and sighed, taking one final look behind, into the dark.

Kaede sat before the unlit hearth, her face grim and sorrowful as the faces met. Sakura let out a shrill cry, her movements becoming wild and frenzied, her eyes shut tight as tiny drops leaked from the corners. Her mouth was scrunched, and lines of annoyance formed on her tiny forehead as each squall was brought forth.

Cuddling the tot further into her embrace, Kagome looked upon the elder woman with confusion and fear. Her answer came with a single tear flowing eloquently down her withered cheek, each wrinkle artfully defined with the warm wetness.

Moving closer to the woman, a faint ruffling was heard, and Kagome turned briskly to face a grief stricken monk. Fear struck her heart, and made her want to shake with the unknown hanging above her head. Placing the squirming baby into her father’s arms, she watched forlornly as he slowly turned and walked into the adjoining room, not a word to any of the others.

Sitting before the deadened pit, she briskly gathered little twigs and dried leaves to begin a blaze which was desperately needed to warm the small home. Rubbing her hands together, she watched as the shadows danced upon the earthen walls, the mud and wood becoming one in appearance.

With her temples aching, Kagome dragged herself to the senior’s side, and held the shaking shoulders tightly. Leaning her head upon the elder’s shoulders, she listened as the sobs became more apparent, and more profound. Hushing the moans of anguish, the younger of the duo tried her best to comfort the mourning woman before her.

“Lady Kaede, tell me, what troubles you so?” leaning back slightly, and staring at the dark eye of the miko, unheard answers flowed between them both.

“Oh, dear, dear, child, I fear your heartache is far from over. Inuyasha is within the area, and has attacked our dear friend while we were away. I fear she will not make it through the night,” emotion choked the young woman, the tragedy weighing heavily upon her already fragile state.

Curling herself into a ball, her knees to her chest, a silent plea to the heavens spilled forth, entangling with the melancholy atmosphere. Her silent callings beckoning to all those with a pure soul to come, and save her from the world in which she did not wish to be. Her world, once so full of life and love, was falling fast around her feet, crumbling and tumbling until nothing could be seen besides what now resided.

Pressure built within her chest, pushing and shoving, trying to force its way through the thickness of her skin. The constant barrage of feelings hitting her like a desolate beach with a giant tidal wave washing away all its hopes and dreams.

Sniffling, she tried desperately to regain control, she was needed, and was doing no good by sobbing out her own woes. Sitting, Kagome checked herself once more, before standing and leaving the company of the elder. Her steps were light, trying not to disturb the last few moments in which they had as one unit.

Grasping the wood, a cold feeling welled deep into her stomach, twisting and churning until she felt her earlier outlook fall away. The metal gleamed in the little light, lighting up maliciously to her eyes, and beckoning her to spill blood. Why was it whenever she held a weapon as such, something deep inside, almost primal, urged her on? Urged her to take a life, or to see the crimson flood flow upon the ground?

Sighing, Kagome quickly set to work, slicing the various herbs that would be needed for the night’s food. Many of those remnants would be essential if they were to overcome the grief that affected them all in its own way.

Their healing powers would grant the a sense of peace in the middle of the great loss, and would hopefully help them think with clear heads. Though she doubted any amount of medical aid could save them from enduring the washing of their hearts, and the crying of their souls.
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Sitting before the blaze, the scent of stew filtered through the room, yet no one made to move. The tajiya’s last gasps were upon her, and she would soon leave the material world, to travel to a place far more greater than the one they resided. They all surrounded her prone figure, talking as best they could, comforting her as best as she adjusted to the transition into a different home.

Sango, once so strong, looked so weak as the wounds that continued to bleed drew her farther and farther away from their touch. Her skin, so pale and desolate, shone with the loss of blood, and with the signs of passing on. The eyes of umber, which had held such strength, seemed to hold unending knowledge, her eyes seeing all, all that was too come.

Her voice was so void, and so emotional all at once that it broke her friend’s very heart. Her soul shattering as she realized that she would no longer be able to confide in the one whom she trusted the most.

Reaching out, the two grasped hands, one so warm with life, the other so cold and clammy. Sweat trickled down the sick one’s face, gleaming like unshed tears down her features, and dripping off her chin. She held on, hoping beyond hope that she could hold Sango here until the end of times, and keep her at her side as long as she the superiors would let her.

“My dear friend, I hold you dear in my heart, and shall through my trip into the next. I ask of you to watch over my dear child, and protect her as I know my husband shall. You have pulled me out of the darkness of depression more than once, and have saved me more times than you shall ever realize. I give you my weapon, and my dear friend Kirara, I expect you to use them well. Defeat Inuyasha, for I know you can, no matter the heartache that shall erupt. You are the protector of the Sacred Jewel, and so much more. Take care,” Sango’s voice wavered, her hands shaking as she dropped her friend’s petite one, and turned to her child.

Holding her hands outwards, Miroku slowly slid the tiny babe into her mother’s arms, her angelic face gleaming with certainty. Her face of youth, so innocent and sweet, was ancient as time itself, the knowledge of far more than one can dream. The knowledge which we all possess when tiny, and loose slowly as times draws on. That knowing look, that children give you, is one that is untainted by the ways of society. Unharmed by the scientific lessons of nowadays.

“Sakura, my dear, sweet child, I hold you forever in my heart, and shall watch over you through all that is to come. You shall live a prosperous life, for that I am sure, and shall be raised beautifully with people who truly care. Your tunnel of wind, that has started has a curse, will become your greatest power, and you will carry the tajiya legacy with pride. You are my daughter, and the only one who can perform such a tedious task. The fate of our dying culture rests in your hands,” kissing her sweet forehead, she tiredly handed the child to her friend, wishing to deal with other matters.

“Kaede, you have been like a mother to me these years passed, and I hope you will watch over my family as you have done before. You have a kind heart, and wisdom beyond your years, and in my heart, I hope that you will be able to watch over this village forevermore. Thank you for all of your kindness, and all of your love, I have cherished it greatly,” hugging the old woman to her, Sango patted her back as a choking sob worked its way up the elder miko’s throat.

“Miroku, my love, there are so many things to say, and yet nothing to say all the same. I know you will be far more capable than I, to raise our child, and will do so wonderfully. I wish you well, and though I shall be leaving you, I want you to move on grandly. Court and marry another, a woman that can keep you in line, and take care of everything better than I. I hope she will be loving, and forever entangle herself within your heart, as I hope I have done. Have many more children, and live as you have always dreamed too. You have had such a harsh life, and deserve one better than the one you have been dealt. I love you my dear,” smiling, her dimples showing, she leaned back onto her pillow, laughing slightly at the situation, in spite of the mood.

Laying at her side, her head resting on his chest, Miroku held his wife closely for the final time. Her dark locks were matted down, and stuck heavily against her forehead, and his face, but both paid little attention. Their hearts and minds rapped into one another’s presence, drinking in as much as they could until they were separated.

Kagome laid Sakura in the midst of the two, and watched with a heavy heart as the small family huddled together. Their bodies molding as they clung to the other, desperately remembering each part into them, and hoping that the almighty saint above would give them a chance. And give them the life they so desired.

Her breathing became hard again, her eyes locked in pain. Kagome held onto her sanity for a few more moments, clinging to whatever she could grasp at the time. Her heart bled as each whimper was brought forth and sounded through the night. Her eyes watered, but those tears did not fall as the seconds ticked on.

Miroku held her closer, bringing Sango as close as he could without hurting their daughter, breathing in her essence. His mind swirled with unforgettable emotions that forever sealed his heart to one woman, and one only. With his head leaning on top of her’s, he whispered to her throughout the moments, telling her of the life they would lead. Hopes that could not happen, but brought a smile to the tajiya none the less.

A small shutter ran up her throat as she gave her final breath, and then, with a smile on her lips, and glimmer in her eyes, their dear Sango, passed on. Her breathing ceased, and her eyes falling shut as her muscles spasmed once more. Her grip loosened, and fell from the hold on the baby, falling to her side as the others gripped her body tighter.

Sakura let out a shrill cry, her lungs filling with air and released a piercing scream that brought Kagome to her feet. Taking the infant into her hands, she rocked it, and held it close, doing her best in that situation. Handing her to Kaede, she walked back to her friend’s resting place, calming herself as she went.

Gripping his shoulder, she watched as the broken man slowly turned, and locked eyes with her drained ones. And as if he had nothing more to hang onto, he hugged the small girl to his body, sobbing as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, and drug her to his side.

Her head resting in the crook of his neck, and her face below his chin, she silently whispered so only he could hear. Patting his chest, and nuzzling him with her nose, listening as he mourned.

And as the hours ticked on, and her body gave way for the need of tears, Kaede left the two alone, disappearing with the small neko and child. Her hands clenched in his robes, relieving herself of the overflowing grief that refused to relinquish its hold.

The moon was full, and shone down with empathy upon the family, wishing nothing more than for peace to be brought. But within the darkness, two crimson pools watched with interest chuckling with malice as the scene continued on. And the gods up above laughed with amusement of the suffering of the heroes of times.

Turning his head, Miroku watched as the sun slowly rose, and the girl in his arms ceased her whimpers, falling into a fitful slumber. Nestling her closer, he listened to her even breathing, taking in what he could from her, and hoping to give as much back. They had both lost, and lost dearly. But life would go on, time would go on, no matter whether they did or not.

Walking into the adjoined room, the small girl within his hold, he deposited her onto the wooden planks, and warmed the fire once more. Today they would perform a service, remembering his wife and comrade that had fallen. His eyes misted over slightly as he left the hut, greeting the darkness of the rising sun, and the bitterness of the morning air.

Walking to the well only a few feet in front of him, he grabbed the nearby pail, falling into a routine that had grown into habit. His hands cranked without knowledge, and his legs moved without thought. He had not thought for several hours now, not wanting to face the reality that was so clearly in front of him.

Rustling behind him drew his attention, and the monk curiously turned about, contemplating that no villager arose at this time. Sitting the bucket to the ground, he turned towards the shrubs, guarding himself for what was too come. The lower branches swivelled menacingly, and threatened him without noise. Grabbing his wrist, he prepared to open his wind tunnel, anger raging within his veins at who might threaten what was left of his home.

A small rabbit hopped out of the bushes, and small laugh of dry amusement arose. His arms lowered, and he shook his head with humor. His eyes twinkled with some light, his mind scolding him slightly for overreacting as such. Shrugging his broad shoulders and he stooped to gather the water once more.

“Miroku, its nice to see you again,” the voice startled him, and he swung around violently, his knees quaking as he came face to face with the killer.

Hatred boiled, and the two lashed out at each other, fist connecting with fist, blow for blow as both tested the other. Their eyes locked, and their breaths became in-tune with the other, sounding as one, instead of two. Feet moving with precision, the duo squared their shoulders as the bared down upon the other.
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TO BE CONTINUED.....

A/N: Well, I hope you guys liked it, I have been working on since just this passed weekend. If you enjoy this at all, please R&R, I really must know your thoughts. Constructive Criticism welcomed, flaming forbidden.

CowgirlUSA