InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Beat of Her Heart ❯ The Beat of Her Heart ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: fall of normality 
The final battle has been fought and won...or is it really the last battle and can it truly be called a victory? For isn’t a battle for sanity far more dangerous than a battle against a lunatic? One-shot
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Romance / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 03.08.2007 | Updated On: 03.08.2007 | Pages: 7 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 720 | Status: Completed
The final battle has been fought and won...or is it really the last battle and can it truly be called a victory? For isn’t a battle for sanity far more dangerous than a battle against a lunatic? One-shot
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Romance / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 03.08.2007 | Updated On: 03.08.2007 | Pages: 7 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 720 | Status: Completed
A/N: When I say its angsty, I MEAN it is angsty. It is the most depressing thing I have ever written and it involves the deaths of many, many characters. However, if you do start reading, please, please read it through until the end.
Summary: The final battle has been fought and won...or is it really the last battle and can it truly be called a victory? For isn’t a battle for sanity far more dangerous than a battle against a lunatic? One-shot
Disclaimer: I am a poor college kid. I have neither the time nor the money nor the creativity to be the mastermind behind such an amazing series like Inuyasha. That would be the incredible genius of Rumiko Takahashi. I’m just leeching off her awesomeness.
Genre: Angst/Psychological/Romance
Rating: T for gore
The Beat of Her Heart
Pain.
That was the first thing–the only thing–she could feel as she returned to the land of the conscious.
Her head pounded. Pounded with the steady rhythm of her heart.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
< br> It felt like her head was expanding and shrinking with each contraction and release of her cardiac muscle until she was no longer certain whether it was her heart or her brain that was drumming the constant beat of her body.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
But that was only the beginning.
As the sleep-induced numbness began to fade, so too did the intense needles of pain that stabbed at every part of her flesh. It began as a ticklish tingling that rooted in her toes and fingertips before dispersing to her limbs and finally to her torso until the whole of her was ringing. But the almost-playful tingling quickly grew into a dull throbbing and–before she knew it–had escalated to an excruciating sensation that had her gasping for air.
Using her quivering right arm for support–her left cried out in protest every time she applied pressure on it–she managed to push herself into an upright sitting position as she surveyed the grotesque spectacle.
But the moment she laid eyes on the battlefield, she almost wished that she had not awakened to witness the carnage that lay untouched and fully exposed before her.
Liters upon liters of blood colored everything a dark crimson though at places much of the red liquid had dried to leave a rusty brown behind. Mangled pieces of burnt and seared flesh, no longer decipherable as to whom or what they once belonged, littered the mottled battle grounds and created a second level of decomposing muscle over the blood-soaked dirt. Charred and blackened remains of bones countered the endless sea of red with occasional spots of black.
The blood spilled during this battle would eventually fertilize the soil within a five-mile radius for many, many years to come and beautiful gardens with blood-red petals would, in due time, replace the ripped and torn pieces of meat that currently decorated the area.
But not today. Today, the earth’s only disguise was the freshly shed life-fluid and dead bodies of thousands of demons and humans alike.
Death.
Destruction.
Decay.
The three “D’s” that constituted three of the world’s most devastating occurrences and they were all present here.
So much blood. So much ruin. So much. Too much.
What little food she still held in her bleeding stomach was emptied soon after. But even then, the desire to vomit overpowered all her other senses.
The arid rot of death...
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her heart quickened and her head pounded.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Where was everyone else?
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
She attempted to stand, but oh the pain!
It was only then that she realized that her arm was broken in three places, her forearm sticking off to her side in an awkward position. The pink-tinted white splinters of her ulna protruded from her elbow but it bent inwards rather than out. In certain places the skin had been ripped off her tender flesh to reveal layers of stringy muscle and burst veins. She stared at the haphazard mass of blood and flesh in confusion, not certain if this mess truly belonged to her.
Finally, after some inner turmoil, she tore her confused cobalt blue eyes away from her arm and focused instead on the steady flow of scarlet liquid flowing from her torso. It took her a couple minutes to understand what she was seeing, but when it did register, her face contorted in disgust and the bile rose to the top of her throat though it didn’t spill.
Where her belly button should have been was instead a gaping hole the size of her fist that gurgled and breathed, giving her the distinct impression of the opened maw of some unidentifiable monster. Still, with a sort of morbid curiosity, she couldn’t help but look closer inside the yawning opening. Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell slightly open when she realized that she could see the punctured bottom of her stomach. She watched with disturbing complacency as the gastric juices mingled with her blood and ate away at her kidneys and liver.
The mockery of it all didn’t escape her.
After all, these same acids were normally supposed to break down the food she ate but here they were eating away at her instead.
Ironic, isn’t it?
Shaking her head at her obvious callousness towards her own health and the impending lunacy that hovered near the horizon, she turned her eyes to her legs and saw–to her mild surprise–that they were still intact and, for the most part, relatively unharmed save for some nasty bruises and cuts.
As she gave herself an overall assessment of her injuries, she concluded that she should be dead right now (and for a little bit, she did wonder if she had died and this was some sort of torturous hell). Even if not from the shock or trauma or the injuries themselves, no person could lose the amount of blood she had lost and still live and be sane...well, nearly sane, anyway.
Well, no matter now. She was alive and Naraku was dead.
But...what had happened to everyone else? to Inuyasha?
She forced herself to scan the battlegrounds once again, this time in search of her friends. She didn’t want to see them dead or maimed, but if they were...it was the least she could do to at least find their bodies.
NO!!! I can’t think like that! They’re fine. They just have to be fine, she thought viciously.
But her tenacity faltered when she spotted a tuft of rusty-red hair sticking out from a pile of dead bodies. All injuries suddenly forgotten, she forced herself to her feet and found that she was already numbed from the pain.
Her breathing came in slow ragged breaths as she made her way to the small pyramid. The fetid scent of metallic blood was stronger than ever but she her focus remained on that one little spot of inconsistency in color.
A soiled blue strip of cloth rested on the floor a couple of inches from the clump of hair and she knew that her fears were realized.
The youngest member of their group, the child she treated like a son, the most innocent of creatures, was dead. And not only was he dead, his small body was torn limb from limb, one of his eyes gouged out, and his child’s face was scratched beyond recognition.
But she knew it was him. She knew it was her poor, orphaned, little Shippou.
Her heart slowed and cried at the injustice.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Not sure what else she could do for the mutilated kitsune, she gathered up the parts of his dead body as best as she could and placed him–all of him–under a nearby tree that had somehow survived the wreckage. She placed her trembling lips on his defaced forehead and could taste the sick, iron burn stick to her mouth.
But this was all she could do for the boy. One last act of motherly love to put his soul at rest forever. “I love you Shippou. Good bye....my son.”
But still, the tears had not started to flow. Perhaps her brain had yet to fully register the truth of it all. So she held on with false strength as she continued her search for the others. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribs and shoved the air from her lungs.
Thu-THUMP.
Thu-THUMP.
Thu-THUMP.
< br> As she traveled a little further from where she had found Shippou–or rather what had remained of him–dark despair began to settle in. Gruesome scenarios flashed through her fatigued mind and plagued her as she picked her way over carcasses.
The skies darkened as the sun began its descent beneath the horizon to sleep away the night. The heavens were set ablaze in a dark scarlet glow that reflected the bloodied earth. In the dying light, she made out the vague outline of a large feline standing guard above two bundles.
In her weary state of mind, she stumbled over to where the cat stood and her hand flew to her mouth at the sight.
Kirara, Sango’s faithful battle companion and friend from their days of childhood and kitten-hood, was impaled through the stomach by a spear, the broken and jagged blunt end protruding from her back. The blood dripped a pool of fluids beneath her. Still now it continued to trickle and would continue until all her liquids were drained, and she was no more then a mummy of the feline she once was. The flames that used to lick her feet were extinguished, and her tails had been stripped down to the skin. In her bloody maws she had relentlessly seized some unfortunate demon’s clawed hand, and her fangs shone with a claret substance. But her intelligent eyes were dull and void of life though she stood proud in the burning skies, and her ferocity and protectiveness towards her master was still evident. At certain angles, the firecat demon even looked alive and well.
Terrified as to what she might see, she looked down towards the twin bundles despite herself and felt her chest constrict as her eyes widened in horror.
There, illuminated by the failing light, lay before her the bodies of two of her closest friends.
Miroku’s right arm, the one with the hell-hole in it, was ripped off altogether and a line of dried blood trickled down his forehead, stray hairs sticking in the substance. A vicious-looking katana was driven through his abdomen and an evil red glint shone off the surface of the sword.
She had a sneaking suspicion that the katana had once belonged to Kohaku, Sango’s beloved but lost little brother, for the young demon slayer boy’s trademark weapon–a sickle and metal ball connected by a heavy chain–stood pierced through Sango’s heart.
Sango...the best friend one could ever ask for...perhaps she had been lucky, for other than the metal weapon sticking out from her chest, she had sustained no other injuries. But perhaps that emotional scar was greater than any other hurt anyone could ever inflict on her.
She fell to her knees and beat the ground with her right fist, regardless of the stabs of pain that shot through her spine with each connection.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. Sango and Miroku were supposed to get married, have kids together, be happy with each other. They weren’t supposed to die like this, damn it!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Her eyes flashed angrily towards the skies and just screamed. She screamed no understandable words but she needed to vent the anger that had built up inside of her. And she screamed and screamed and screamed until her voice was hoarse and her lungs heaved with exertion. And still she screamed.
At last, her voice was stolen and she sagged in defeat. “They weren’t supposed to die until they were old and lived a full life. They were supposed to be happy...”
Thu-thump.
Thu-thuump.
Thu-th uuump.
It’s a real bad thing when your heart begins to slow from depression because all you really want is for it to stop altogether so that you can be numbed from your pain. Oftentimes, you don’t want that heart to start up again because when it does, it means that the pain is the real, the disappointment is real, the suffering is real. There is no escape.
And so she wished that her heart would slow even further, wished that it would stop. She wished she could stop the pain. But no matter how hard she wished, the pain was still there and her heart continued to beat.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Sango’s long hair had fallen out of the ribbon she used to hold it up in a high ponytail and was fanned out beneath her head. Her dead, unseeing eyes were turned towards the monk she had come to love so much and her head rested on his chest, their hands intertwined.
At least in death, they had found each other and died content knowing they had found love.
If they were truly fated to die in battle, then this would have been the perfect death for them. They lay together at last with the ever-loyal firecat standing guard over their bodies. Yes, this is all they could ever wish for.
She offered them one last prayer, gave one last sniffle, and struggled to her feet. They would be happy here, with Kirara forever guarding them.
She had not have taken more than a could of steps before she stumbled over the body of a boy, a boy in the familiar demon slayer attire.
Kohaku...she whispered in her mind. The boy lay face down on the ground, his back a mess of what it should have been. There was no way she could have counted the number of gashes and lacerations that adorned his back and she was afraid that if she touched him, he would fall apart in her hands.
The poor boy had been doomed to a life of unhappiness and suffering. Maybe it was best that he was dead now lest he face the rest of his life in regret and despair.
She mumbled a word of prayer before continuing on.
Night lingered around the corner, and she wanted to find Inuyasha before dark. She hoped against all odds that he was still alive and that all his boasts about being stronger than a normal human would not be in vain.
But as she continued on, her head–whose pounding had died down quite a bit–began its pulsing again as dread and fear set in, driving her to the point of insanity.
Thu-thump
Thu-thump
Thu-thump
< br> She wanted to scream but her vocal cords were still sore from her outcry earlier.
She wanted to cry but the tears wouldn’t come no matter how hard she willed them to.
She wanted to die but knew that suicide was never the way to end things.
But most of all, she just wanted to laugh.
She wanted to laugh at how pathetic her situation was and at how dumb they all were for challenging Naraku. She wanted to laugh at her own foolishness for shattering the jewel shards in the first place. She wanted to laugh in the face of Death in hopes that he would strike her down with his scythe of doom.
She simply couldn’t take this any longer. The solitude, the massacre, the desolation, the butchery.
And so she fell.
She collapsed where she was standing as the world blacked out. Even momentary release was better than facing the coldness of reality.
Summary: The final battle has been fought and won...or is it really the last battle and can it truly be called a victory? For isn’t a battle for sanity far more dangerous than a battle against a lunatic? One-shot
Disclaimer: I am a poor college kid. I have neither the time nor the money nor the creativity to be the mastermind behind such an amazing series like Inuyasha. That would be the incredible genius of Rumiko Takahashi. I’m just leeching off her awesomeness.
Genre: Angst/Psychological/Romance
Rating: T for gore
The Beat of Her Heart
Pain.
That was the first thing–the only thing–she could feel as she returned to the land of the conscious.
Her head pounded. Pounded with the steady rhythm of her heart.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
< br> It felt like her head was expanding and shrinking with each contraction and release of her cardiac muscle until she was no longer certain whether it was her heart or her brain that was drumming the constant beat of her body.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
But that was only the beginning.
As the sleep-induced numbness began to fade, so too did the intense needles of pain that stabbed at every part of her flesh. It began as a ticklish tingling that rooted in her toes and fingertips before dispersing to her limbs and finally to her torso until the whole of her was ringing. But the almost-playful tingling quickly grew into a dull throbbing and–before she knew it–had escalated to an excruciating sensation that had her gasping for air.
Using her quivering right arm for support–her left cried out in protest every time she applied pressure on it–she managed to push herself into an upright sitting position as she surveyed the grotesque spectacle.
But the moment she laid eyes on the battlefield, she almost wished that she had not awakened to witness the carnage that lay untouched and fully exposed before her.
Liters upon liters of blood colored everything a dark crimson though at places much of the red liquid had dried to leave a rusty brown behind. Mangled pieces of burnt and seared flesh, no longer decipherable as to whom or what they once belonged, littered the mottled battle grounds and created a second level of decomposing muscle over the blood-soaked dirt. Charred and blackened remains of bones countered the endless sea of red with occasional spots of black.
The blood spilled during this battle would eventually fertilize the soil within a five-mile radius for many, many years to come and beautiful gardens with blood-red petals would, in due time, replace the ripped and torn pieces of meat that currently decorated the area.
But not today. Today, the earth’s only disguise was the freshly shed life-fluid and dead bodies of thousands of demons and humans alike.
Death.
Destruction.
Decay.
The three “D’s” that constituted three of the world’s most devastating occurrences and they were all present here.
So much blood. So much ruin. So much. Too much.
What little food she still held in her bleeding stomach was emptied soon after. But even then, the desire to vomit overpowered all her other senses.
The arid rot of death...
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her heart quickened and her head pounded.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Where was everyone else?
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
She attempted to stand, but oh the pain!
It was only then that she realized that her arm was broken in three places, her forearm sticking off to her side in an awkward position. The pink-tinted white splinters of her ulna protruded from her elbow but it bent inwards rather than out. In certain places the skin had been ripped off her tender flesh to reveal layers of stringy muscle and burst veins. She stared at the haphazard mass of blood and flesh in confusion, not certain if this mess truly belonged to her.
Finally, after some inner turmoil, she tore her confused cobalt blue eyes away from her arm and focused instead on the steady flow of scarlet liquid flowing from her torso. It took her a couple minutes to understand what she was seeing, but when it did register, her face contorted in disgust and the bile rose to the top of her throat though it didn’t spill.
Where her belly button should have been was instead a gaping hole the size of her fist that gurgled and breathed, giving her the distinct impression of the opened maw of some unidentifiable monster. Still, with a sort of morbid curiosity, she couldn’t help but look closer inside the yawning opening. Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell slightly open when she realized that she could see the punctured bottom of her stomach. She watched with disturbing complacency as the gastric juices mingled with her blood and ate away at her kidneys and liver.
The mockery of it all didn’t escape her.
After all, these same acids were normally supposed to break down the food she ate but here they were eating away at her instead.
Ironic, isn’t it?
Shaking her head at her obvious callousness towards her own health and the impending lunacy that hovered near the horizon, she turned her eyes to her legs and saw–to her mild surprise–that they were still intact and, for the most part, relatively unharmed save for some nasty bruises and cuts.
As she gave herself an overall assessment of her injuries, she concluded that she should be dead right now (and for a little bit, she did wonder if she had died and this was some sort of torturous hell). Even if not from the shock or trauma or the injuries themselves, no person could lose the amount of blood she had lost and still live and be sane...well, nearly sane, anyway.
Well, no matter now. She was alive and Naraku was dead.
But...what had happened to everyone else? to Inuyasha?
She forced herself to scan the battlegrounds once again, this time in search of her friends. She didn’t want to see them dead or maimed, but if they were...it was the least she could do to at least find their bodies.
NO!!! I can’t think like that! They’re fine. They just have to be fine, she thought viciously.
But her tenacity faltered when she spotted a tuft of rusty-red hair sticking out from a pile of dead bodies. All injuries suddenly forgotten, she forced herself to her feet and found that she was already numbed from the pain.
Her breathing came in slow ragged breaths as she made her way to the small pyramid. The fetid scent of metallic blood was stronger than ever but she her focus remained on that one little spot of inconsistency in color.
A soiled blue strip of cloth rested on the floor a couple of inches from the clump of hair and she knew that her fears were realized.
The youngest member of their group, the child she treated like a son, the most innocent of creatures, was dead. And not only was he dead, his small body was torn limb from limb, one of his eyes gouged out, and his child’s face was scratched beyond recognition.
But she knew it was him. She knew it was her poor, orphaned, little Shippou.
Her heart slowed and cried at the injustice.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Not sure what else she could do for the mutilated kitsune, she gathered up the parts of his dead body as best as she could and placed him–all of him–under a nearby tree that had somehow survived the wreckage. She placed her trembling lips on his defaced forehead and could taste the sick, iron burn stick to her mouth.
But this was all she could do for the boy. One last act of motherly love to put his soul at rest forever. “I love you Shippou. Good bye....my son.”
But still, the tears had not started to flow. Perhaps her brain had yet to fully register the truth of it all. So she held on with false strength as she continued her search for the others. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribs and shoved the air from her lungs.
Thu-THUMP.
Thu-THUMP.
Thu-THUMP.
< br> As she traveled a little further from where she had found Shippou–or rather what had remained of him–dark despair began to settle in. Gruesome scenarios flashed through her fatigued mind and plagued her as she picked her way over carcasses.
The skies darkened as the sun began its descent beneath the horizon to sleep away the night. The heavens were set ablaze in a dark scarlet glow that reflected the bloodied earth. In the dying light, she made out the vague outline of a large feline standing guard above two bundles.
In her weary state of mind, she stumbled over to where the cat stood and her hand flew to her mouth at the sight.
Kirara, Sango’s faithful battle companion and friend from their days of childhood and kitten-hood, was impaled through the stomach by a spear, the broken and jagged blunt end protruding from her back. The blood dripped a pool of fluids beneath her. Still now it continued to trickle and would continue until all her liquids were drained, and she was no more then a mummy of the feline she once was. The flames that used to lick her feet were extinguished, and her tails had been stripped down to the skin. In her bloody maws she had relentlessly seized some unfortunate demon’s clawed hand, and her fangs shone with a claret substance. But her intelligent eyes were dull and void of life though she stood proud in the burning skies, and her ferocity and protectiveness towards her master was still evident. At certain angles, the firecat demon even looked alive and well.
Terrified as to what she might see, she looked down towards the twin bundles despite herself and felt her chest constrict as her eyes widened in horror.
There, illuminated by the failing light, lay before her the bodies of two of her closest friends.
Miroku’s right arm, the one with the hell-hole in it, was ripped off altogether and a line of dried blood trickled down his forehead, stray hairs sticking in the substance. A vicious-looking katana was driven through his abdomen and an evil red glint shone off the surface of the sword.
She had a sneaking suspicion that the katana had once belonged to Kohaku, Sango’s beloved but lost little brother, for the young demon slayer boy’s trademark weapon–a sickle and metal ball connected by a heavy chain–stood pierced through Sango’s heart.
Sango...the best friend one could ever ask for...perhaps she had been lucky, for other than the metal weapon sticking out from her chest, she had sustained no other injuries. But perhaps that emotional scar was greater than any other hurt anyone could ever inflict on her.
She fell to her knees and beat the ground with her right fist, regardless of the stabs of pain that shot through her spine with each connection.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. Sango and Miroku were supposed to get married, have kids together, be happy with each other. They weren’t supposed to die like this, damn it!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Her eyes flashed angrily towards the skies and just screamed. She screamed no understandable words but she needed to vent the anger that had built up inside of her. And she screamed and screamed and screamed until her voice was hoarse and her lungs heaved with exertion. And still she screamed.
At last, her voice was stolen and she sagged in defeat. “They weren’t supposed to die until they were old and lived a full life. They were supposed to be happy...”
Thu-thump.
Thu-thuump.
Thu-th uuump.
It’s a real bad thing when your heart begins to slow from depression because all you really want is for it to stop altogether so that you can be numbed from your pain. Oftentimes, you don’t want that heart to start up again because when it does, it means that the pain is the real, the disappointment is real, the suffering is real. There is no escape.
And so she wished that her heart would slow even further, wished that it would stop. She wished she could stop the pain. But no matter how hard she wished, the pain was still there and her heart continued to beat.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Sango’s long hair had fallen out of the ribbon she used to hold it up in a high ponytail and was fanned out beneath her head. Her dead, unseeing eyes were turned towards the monk she had come to love so much and her head rested on his chest, their hands intertwined.
At least in death, they had found each other and died content knowing they had found love.
If they were truly fated to die in battle, then this would have been the perfect death for them. They lay together at last with the ever-loyal firecat standing guard over their bodies. Yes, this is all they could ever wish for.
She offered them one last prayer, gave one last sniffle, and struggled to her feet. They would be happy here, with Kirara forever guarding them.
She had not have taken more than a could of steps before she stumbled over the body of a boy, a boy in the familiar demon slayer attire.
Kohaku...she whispered in her mind. The boy lay face down on the ground, his back a mess of what it should have been. There was no way she could have counted the number of gashes and lacerations that adorned his back and she was afraid that if she touched him, he would fall apart in her hands.
The poor boy had been doomed to a life of unhappiness and suffering. Maybe it was best that he was dead now lest he face the rest of his life in regret and despair.
She mumbled a word of prayer before continuing on.
Night lingered around the corner, and she wanted to find Inuyasha before dark. She hoped against all odds that he was still alive and that all his boasts about being stronger than a normal human would not be in vain.
But as she continued on, her head–whose pounding had died down quite a bit–began its pulsing again as dread and fear set in, driving her to the point of insanity.
Thu-thump
Thu-thump
Thu-thump
< br> She wanted to scream but her vocal cords were still sore from her outcry earlier.
She wanted to cry but the tears wouldn’t come no matter how hard she willed them to.
She wanted to die but knew that suicide was never the way to end things.
But most of all, she just wanted to laugh.
She wanted to laugh at how pathetic her situation was and at how dumb they all were for challenging Naraku. She wanted to laugh at her own foolishness for shattering the jewel shards in the first place. She wanted to laugh in the face of Death in hopes that he would strike her down with his scythe of doom.
She simply couldn’t take this any longer. The solitude, the massacre, the desolation, the butchery.
And so she fell.
She collapsed where she was standing as the world blacked out. Even momentary release was better than facing the coldness of reality.
…
She watched in wide-eyed horror as Naraku’s form grew and grew. Hundreds of demons spilled from his mouth, nose, and even his ears as his body of melded demons stood towering above the trees and his malicious laughter rang out, the obnoxious noise reverberating painfully in her body.
She watched as Kagura suddenly turned on her creator and tried to use her Dance of the Dead on Naraku. But before she even had a chance to lift her fan above her head, her chest exploded–a fountain of blood spray-painting everything in her vicinity with a dark red–and her body flew carelessly across the meadow. And in her wake came Naraku’s oily voice, “There is the heart that you so desperately wanted back, Kagura. Hope you like it.” Then he chuckled darkly before it broke out into an all-out cackle.
And thus came the first casualty of war.
That set off the attack on both sides as Inuyasha, Sango, and Miroku led their ragamuffin band of demons, humans, and half-demons against the Naraku-incarnation led small army of demons and evil men.
She watched as Inuyasha fought with a ferocity never seen before as he felled demons left and right. He had used Wind Scar only once at the beginning of the battle, but he was too afraid of hurting his allies to use it again. Thus he settled for just using Tetsusaiga as it was. And it was effective.
Sango’s movements were fluid, the sign of a true demon slayer. She was dancing, rejecting the potential partners of multiple demons as their corpses were blown away from her large boomerang. But she could see that Sango would not be able to keep this up for the amount of demons Naraku had at his disposal.
Close-by her fought Miroku. It seemed like he was the only suitable partner for Sango’s dance, and he played his part well. Like Inuyasha, Miroku refrained from using the hell-hole in his hand lest he sucked in some unfortunate ally. Instead, he spun and twirled with his golden staff and connected to the skulls of a number of demons with incredible grace and strength. However, like Sango, the monk could not keep this up forever. It was only a matter of time.
She wanted to help so badly but found that she couldn’t move. She tried to jerk her arm from her sides but realized before long that it was a futile attempt. Kikyo’s soul-stealers had her wrapped tightly around a tree and there was no way to escape them.
“Kikyo! Let me go! Let me go help them,” she cried.
The undead miko just looked at her with a look of–dare I say it–pity on her stoic face. “Quiet, girl. You are invisible, unknown to all that you are here save for me. Don’t do anything stupid to waste your life. This is not your battle.”
And with that, she turned to walk away in that elegant manner she always used and left a very confused girl in her wake.
“Was Kikyo...actually concerned about my well-being? Well, that’s new...” she muttered under her breath.
She hated being trapped. She was safe–according to Kikyo–but she didn’t want to be safe when her friends were out there facing death. She wanted to be out there with them, to be by their side as they fought so hard for justice. She wanted to be with Inuyasha.
And so she struggled against her captors. But every time she seemed to make some progress, the soul-stealers just tightened their hold on her even further until she could hardly breathe. Well, obviously Kikyo didn’t care if she died of suffocation...
She stopped struggling for a little while, trying to regain her breath but panic rose in her as she watched the battle so close, yet so far.
There! Kohaku made his way towards Sango but was stopped by Miroku.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She could have sworn she saw him mouthing.
But Miroku was never given a response. Instead, he looked down in shock to see a katana pierce his stomach. He stared at it in confusion before glancing up at Kohaku and back down to the sword again. His scream seemed to perforate the very fabric of the world as Kohaku shoved the katana clean through until nearly a half of a foot protruded from his back.
He sank slowly to his knees and the demons around him took advantage of his weakness. One of them sank its fangs into his forearm and tore viciously until the limb was dangling in its ugly maw. Blood sprayed from his shoulder as the demon, ecstatic with its prize, settled down to chew on the flesh and gnaw at the bone.
Sango had heard his cry and hurried over to his side, but she was too late. The monk was beyond help now and her eyes welled up with tears. Then she saw the katana and alarm registered on her face before rage flashed before her eyes.
“It was Kohaku?!” she seemed to grind out.
Miroku shook his head. “It’s not his fault. Don’t do anything...anything you’ll regret,” he managed to respond with much difficulty. But the exertion proved to be too much and his head rolled back, his body collapsed into Sango’s hold. His eyes glazed over with a white film until all signs of life disappeared.
“Miroku? Miroku! You can’t just die and leave me here, damn it! Wake up, you lecherous monk,” Sango demanded, but knew that it was in vain. He was gone and she couldn’t do anything about it. “Wake up...Please...I never told you...”
But her tears quickly changed to anger and set blazing eyes on Kohaku. Even in death, Miroku hadn’t wanted her to avenge his death lest she regret killing the only family she had left.
But what he didn’t understand was that Miroku was the only family she had left. Kohaku...he had long ceased to be the brother she loved so much. While his heart may still be the boy he once was, he had committed too many wrongs to be forgiven. She should have liberated him all those years ago to save him from perpetrating any more sins than he had already done. But Inuyasha had stopped her. Oh, how she wished she had gone through with it that day!
The only way Kohaku would be free, would be to die.
And so she turned from the body of her dead lover only to gasp in pain when Kohaku’s sickle connected with her heart. She didn’t even have a chance for Kohaku was sharp and deadly in his attack.
Tears brimmed at her eyelids as she turned away from her brother to rest her head on Miroku’s chest. And as her eyes fluttered close, her hands found his and a small sigh of contentment escaped from her lips before her soul left her body.
Kirara immediately appeared close by them and gently nuzzled Sango. But her beloved master would never awaken again. Growling in anger, Kirara fell upon the demons around the two tragic lovers in a rage. She spotted Miroku’s arm–what was left of it anyway–as well as the demon occupied in devouring it. She lunged at the demon and tore off its arm before it knew what had hit it. But that was all the damage she could do, for a spear came out of nowhere to slide into her flesh right beside her spinal cord and come out through her stomach. It suspended her in a standing position above the bodies of Sango and Miroku.
She was too shocked to know what to do. Miroku, Sango, and Kirara...dead. It was unreal.
But before she even had the chance to gather her wits about her, a blinding flash of light enveloped the entire area before a blast of power disintegrated the soul-stealers and slammed her painfully through the tree and into another with a sickening crunch.
Then, the world fell black before her eyes.
She watched as Kagura suddenly turned on her creator and tried to use her Dance of the Dead on Naraku. But before she even had a chance to lift her fan above her head, her chest exploded–a fountain of blood spray-painting everything in her vicinity with a dark red–and her body flew carelessly across the meadow. And in her wake came Naraku’s oily voice, “There is the heart that you so desperately wanted back, Kagura. Hope you like it.” Then he chuckled darkly before it broke out into an all-out cackle.
And thus came the first casualty of war.
That set off the attack on both sides as Inuyasha, Sango, and Miroku led their ragamuffin band of demons, humans, and half-demons against the Naraku-incarnation led small army of demons and evil men.
She watched as Inuyasha fought with a ferocity never seen before as he felled demons left and right. He had used Wind Scar only once at the beginning of the battle, but he was too afraid of hurting his allies to use it again. Thus he settled for just using Tetsusaiga as it was. And it was effective.
Sango’s movements were fluid, the sign of a true demon slayer. She was dancing, rejecting the potential partners of multiple demons as their corpses were blown away from her large boomerang. But she could see that Sango would not be able to keep this up for the amount of demons Naraku had at his disposal.
Close-by her fought Miroku. It seemed like he was the only suitable partner for Sango’s dance, and he played his part well. Like Inuyasha, Miroku refrained from using the hell-hole in his hand lest he sucked in some unfortunate ally. Instead, he spun and twirled with his golden staff and connected to the skulls of a number of demons with incredible grace and strength. However, like Sango, the monk could not keep this up forever. It was only a matter of time.
She wanted to help so badly but found that she couldn’t move. She tried to jerk her arm from her sides but realized before long that it was a futile attempt. Kikyo’s soul-stealers had her wrapped tightly around a tree and there was no way to escape them.
“Kikyo! Let me go! Let me go help them,” she cried.
The undead miko just looked at her with a look of–dare I say it–pity on her stoic face. “Quiet, girl. You are invisible, unknown to all that you are here save for me. Don’t do anything stupid to waste your life. This is not your battle.”
And with that, she turned to walk away in that elegant manner she always used and left a very confused girl in her wake.
“Was Kikyo...actually concerned about my well-being? Well, that’s new...” she muttered under her breath.
She hated being trapped. She was safe–according to Kikyo–but she didn’t want to be safe when her friends were out there facing death. She wanted to be out there with them, to be by their side as they fought so hard for justice. She wanted to be with Inuyasha.
And so she struggled against her captors. But every time she seemed to make some progress, the soul-stealers just tightened their hold on her even further until she could hardly breathe. Well, obviously Kikyo didn’t care if she died of suffocation...
She stopped struggling for a little while, trying to regain her breath but panic rose in her as she watched the battle so close, yet so far.
There! Kohaku made his way towards Sango but was stopped by Miroku.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She could have sworn she saw him mouthing.
But Miroku was never given a response. Instead, he looked down in shock to see a katana pierce his stomach. He stared at it in confusion before glancing up at Kohaku and back down to the sword again. His scream seemed to perforate the very fabric of the world as Kohaku shoved the katana clean through until nearly a half of a foot protruded from his back.
He sank slowly to his knees and the demons around him took advantage of his weakness. One of them sank its fangs into his forearm and tore viciously until the limb was dangling in its ugly maw. Blood sprayed from his shoulder as the demon, ecstatic with its prize, settled down to chew on the flesh and gnaw at the bone.
Sango had heard his cry and hurried over to his side, but she was too late. The monk was beyond help now and her eyes welled up with tears. Then she saw the katana and alarm registered on her face before rage flashed before her eyes.
“It was Kohaku?!” she seemed to grind out.
Miroku shook his head. “It’s not his fault. Don’t do anything...anything you’ll regret,” he managed to respond with much difficulty. But the exertion proved to be too much and his head rolled back, his body collapsed into Sango’s hold. His eyes glazed over with a white film until all signs of life disappeared.
“Miroku? Miroku! You can’t just die and leave me here, damn it! Wake up, you lecherous monk,” Sango demanded, but knew that it was in vain. He was gone and she couldn’t do anything about it. “Wake up...Please...I never told you...”
But her tears quickly changed to anger and set blazing eyes on Kohaku. Even in death, Miroku hadn’t wanted her to avenge his death lest she regret killing the only family she had left.
But what he didn’t understand was that Miroku was the only family she had left. Kohaku...he had long ceased to be the brother she loved so much. While his heart may still be the boy he once was, he had committed too many wrongs to be forgiven. She should have liberated him all those years ago to save him from perpetrating any more sins than he had already done. But Inuyasha had stopped her. Oh, how she wished she had gone through with it that day!
The only way Kohaku would be free, would be to die.
And so she turned from the body of her dead lover only to gasp in pain when Kohaku’s sickle connected with her heart. She didn’t even have a chance for Kohaku was sharp and deadly in his attack.
Tears brimmed at her eyelids as she turned away from her brother to rest her head on Miroku’s chest. And as her eyes fluttered close, her hands found his and a small sigh of contentment escaped from her lips before her soul left her body.
Kirara immediately appeared close by them and gently nuzzled Sango. But her beloved master would never awaken again. Growling in anger, Kirara fell upon the demons around the two tragic lovers in a rage. She spotted Miroku’s arm–what was left of it anyway–as well as the demon occupied in devouring it. She lunged at the demon and tore off its arm before it knew what had hit it. But that was all the damage she could do, for a spear came out of nowhere to slide into her flesh right beside her spinal cord and come out through her stomach. It suspended her in a standing position above the bodies of Sango and Miroku.
She was too shocked to know what to do. Miroku, Sango, and Kirara...dead. It was unreal.
But before she even had the chance to gather her wits about her, a blinding flash of light enveloped the entire area before a blast of power disintegrated the soul-stealers and slammed her painfully through the tree and into another with a sickening crunch.
Then, the world fell black before her eyes.
…
She awoke with a scream as the events of the battle came flooding back to her in her dream. Well, nightmare more like.
What was that blast? Was that the power of the Shikon Jewel? If so, who had used it?
Nothing made sense.
The skies were graying and dawn would be arriving in an hour or so. It was so peaceful and quiet that she found herself enjoying the silence, despite where she was situated.
But the silence was rudely broken by a flock of hungry ravens and crows, their incessant cawing grating on her nerves. It wasn’t until she caught sight of a flash of silver in the orange beak of one did she jump to her feet in panic.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
< br> Could it be? It had to be!
Not even realizing that her many of her injuries had mended of its own accord, she sprinted after the raven and was rewarded with the heart-breaking sight of her beloved sprawled out in a pool of blood, the scavenger birds gathered round and his fist clenched tightly as if afraid to lose whatever it was that he held in his grip.
“No...no...NO!!!” she screamed, she yelled, she begged. “God damn it, no! Not Inuyasha...”
Her scream had scattered the flocks and the way was cleared.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
As gently as she could, she turned his body over so that his face was towards the skies. The skies were lightening as the sun rose. It was as if the world was mocking her. The sun was rising but her heart was sinking.
His beautiful locks of silver hair stuck together in clumps of red and his body was so badly marred that his insides could be seen spilling with liquids. Of course, the missing innards were most likely courtesy of the ravens she had driven away, but that wasn’t exactly a comfort.
His eyes, those wonderfully captivating golden eyes of his, were dimmed from their usual spark and lifeless.
Hopeless? No, she was feeling hopeless, not his eyes. Her hero, her friend, her love...was gone and never to return.
But more so than that, she felt worthless. She wasn’t there with him in his last moments. She wasn’t there, damn it! She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t tell him how much she needed him, loved him. She couldn’t be with him.
“Why’d you leave me, Inuyasha?” Her voice shook uncontrollably as her tears finally broke through the flood gates and came in a raging torrent. “Why’d you have to leave me all by myself? I can’t make it on my own. I need you.”
She whimpered, she cried, she screamed.
But no matter what she did now, she couldn’t bring back the ones she loved.
Why was she still alive when everyone else was dead?
Kaede had been fortunate enough to have missed this slaughter for she had passed away months ago due to old age. All the village men had come to defend their families and they were all dead. The blast should have reached the village as well and those families that the men gave their lives in vain to protect should be with them in the afterlife as well. Dead.
Shippou: dead. Miroku: dead. Sango: dead. Kirara: dead. And now even the ever unbreakable Inuyasha was dead.
So why was she still alive?
She didn’t know but she wanted to be dead too.
What was that blast? Was that the power of the Shikon Jewel? If so, who had used it?
Nothing made sense.
The skies were graying and dawn would be arriving in an hour or so. It was so peaceful and quiet that she found herself enjoying the silence, despite where she was situated.
But the silence was rudely broken by a flock of hungry ravens and crows, their incessant cawing grating on her nerves. It wasn’t until she caught sight of a flash of silver in the orange beak of one did she jump to her feet in panic.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
< br> Could it be? It had to be!
Not even realizing that her many of her injuries had mended of its own accord, she sprinted after the raven and was rewarded with the heart-breaking sight of her beloved sprawled out in a pool of blood, the scavenger birds gathered round and his fist clenched tightly as if afraid to lose whatever it was that he held in his grip.
“No...no...NO!!!” she screamed, she yelled, she begged. “God damn it, no! Not Inuyasha...”
Her scream had scattered the flocks and the way was cleared.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
As gently as she could, she turned his body over so that his face was towards the skies. The skies were lightening as the sun rose. It was as if the world was mocking her. The sun was rising but her heart was sinking.
His beautiful locks of silver hair stuck together in clumps of red and his body was so badly marred that his insides could be seen spilling with liquids. Of course, the missing innards were most likely courtesy of the ravens she had driven away, but that wasn’t exactly a comfort.
His eyes, those wonderfully captivating golden eyes of his, were dimmed from their usual spark and lifeless.
Hopeless? No, she was feeling hopeless, not his eyes. Her hero, her friend, her love...was gone and never to return.
But more so than that, she felt worthless. She wasn’t there with him in his last moments. She wasn’t there, damn it! She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t tell him how much she needed him, loved him. She couldn’t be with him.
“Why’d you leave me, Inuyasha?” Her voice shook uncontrollably as her tears finally broke through the flood gates and came in a raging torrent. “Why’d you have to leave me all by myself? I can’t make it on my own. I need you.”
She whimpered, she cried, she screamed.
But no matter what she did now, she couldn’t bring back the ones she loved.
Why was she still alive when everyone else was dead?
Kaede had been fortunate enough to have missed this slaughter for she had passed away months ago due to old age. All the village men had come to defend their families and they were all dead. The blast should have reached the village as well and those families that the men gave their lives in vain to protect should be with them in the afterlife as well. Dead.
Shippou: dead. Miroku: dead. Sango: dead. Kirara: dead. And now even the ever unbreakable Inuyasha was dead.
So why was she still alive?
She didn’t know but she wanted to be dead too.
…
Kagome had somehow managed to make it back to the modern times. She was soaked head to toe in blood–some of it her own, most of it belonging to others–and of course her family had been worried sick.
She told them what happened in a monotonous, detached voice before asking calmly if she could take a bath. There were no signs that she had been physically injured, but they knew that she was emotionally and spiritually scarred.
Not certain what she could do to help her traumatized daughter, Mrs. Higurashi warmed the water and tended to her every need. She was afraid that–in Kagome’s condition–she would slip under the water and drown to death. But an even more frightening thought than that occurred to her: what if she tried to slit her wrists?
No, she couldn’t risk it. So, she helped scrub the blood off of her daughter’s skin and hair and hoped that she would open up. Kagome didn’t.
So, she told Kagome to sleep in her bed so that she could keep a watch on her. Kagome did but still didn’t open up.
At last, not knowing what else she could do, Mrs. Higurashi resorted to calling a psychologist. Kagome had gone without a struggle but said hardly a word to her shrink.
But still, everyday she went and everyday she sat staring into space, nothing but the husk of the vibrant girl she used to be. Her heart beat but she didn’t recognize it for, to her, her heart was dead.
Days crept by slowly, weeks crawled by in agonizingly sluggish steps and still no progress, for no progress can be made if no emotions are allowed to show.
They dropped her from school due to her instability and even her bubbly friends could not make her smile.
She became isolated and withdrawn as she shrank back further away from the world around her.
Pretty soon, even her little brother tired of her depressing attitude and his visits to her room to speak with her about his day in an attempt to make her feel better. Her grandfather continued to speak of demons possessing his sweet granddaughter and tried multiple times without success to exorcise said demons.
His actions, however, only caused Kagome to wonder if lunacy ran in the family.
The only one who could elicit a single word from her lips was her mother. With the unwavering patience, gentle tenderness, and unconditional love of which only a mother is capable, Mrs. Higurashi spent every moment trying to lull her stubborn daughter from her daze. She never complained, never pushed, and never forced her to do or say something if she was unwilling. She simply nodded, gave her little sad smile, and left.
Every night, Kagome slept in her mother’s bed and secretly relished in the security and love that radiated from Mrs. Higurashi. In truth, nights were the times Kagome looked forward to because she could bask in the warmth of her mother.
Nights were also the times Mrs. Higurashi looked forward to the most. Those were the times that Kagome would unconsciously snuggle closer and sometimes while she slept, Kagome would lose ten years and become a seven-year-old once again.
That night was no different.
Kagome snuggled closer and fell into a fitful sleep. And she dreamt of Inuyasha.
She told them what happened in a monotonous, detached voice before asking calmly if she could take a bath. There were no signs that she had been physically injured, but they knew that she was emotionally and spiritually scarred.
Not certain what she could do to help her traumatized daughter, Mrs. Higurashi warmed the water and tended to her every need. She was afraid that–in Kagome’s condition–she would slip under the water and drown to death. But an even more frightening thought than that occurred to her: what if she tried to slit her wrists?
No, she couldn’t risk it. So, she helped scrub the blood off of her daughter’s skin and hair and hoped that she would open up. Kagome didn’t.
So, she told Kagome to sleep in her bed so that she could keep a watch on her. Kagome did but still didn’t open up.
At last, not knowing what else she could do, Mrs. Higurashi resorted to calling a psychologist. Kagome had gone without a struggle but said hardly a word to her shrink.
But still, everyday she went and everyday she sat staring into space, nothing but the husk of the vibrant girl she used to be. Her heart beat but she didn’t recognize it for, to her, her heart was dead.
Days crept by slowly, weeks crawled by in agonizingly sluggish steps and still no progress, for no progress can be made if no emotions are allowed to show.
They dropped her from school due to her instability and even her bubbly friends could not make her smile.
She became isolated and withdrawn as she shrank back further away from the world around her.
Pretty soon, even her little brother tired of her depressing attitude and his visits to her room to speak with her about his day in an attempt to make her feel better. Her grandfather continued to speak of demons possessing his sweet granddaughter and tried multiple times without success to exorcise said demons.
His actions, however, only caused Kagome to wonder if lunacy ran in the family.
The only one who could elicit a single word from her lips was her mother. With the unwavering patience, gentle tenderness, and unconditional love of which only a mother is capable, Mrs. Higurashi spent every moment trying to lull her stubborn daughter from her daze. She never complained, never pushed, and never forced her to do or say something if she was unwilling. She simply nodded, gave her little sad smile, and left.
Every night, Kagome slept in her mother’s bed and secretly relished in the security and love that radiated from Mrs. Higurashi. In truth, nights were the times Kagome looked forward to because she could bask in the warmth of her mother.
Nights were also the times Mrs. Higurashi looked forward to the most. Those were the times that Kagome would unconsciously snuggle closer and sometimes while she slept, Kagome would lose ten years and become a seven-year-old once again.
That night was no different.
Kagome snuggled closer and fell into a fitful sleep. And she dreamt of Inuyasha.
…
She looked around her in confusion before realizing that she was in the meadow where that last, fateful battle had taken place. However, the blood and gore that once infested the area had been cleared to leave a clean and crisp field behind.
She felt a peace here that she had never known before and indulged in the beautiful silence.
“Hey Kagome.”
She froze as her heart stopped. That voice...could it be?
She turned slowly to face the source and felt her heart soar at the revelation. “Inuyasha!”
She ran towards him and squealed in delight when he easily picked her up and spun her around in his arms before holding her close in a tight embrace.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered amidst the tears.
“I’ve missed you too.”
For a long time, they just stood there holding each other, not wanting words to ruin the moment.
But, Kagome eventually pulled away to gaze into the face of one she had thought was lost forever. Yet a problem still nagged at the back of her mind. “How...I mean, how come–”
“How come I’m not dead?” he finished for her.
Not trusting her voice to speak, she nodded.
He smiled a genuine smile she had never seen before, and replied, “I am dead. This is only a dream Kagome.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned. “Well, I don’t ever want to wake up ever again.”
He touched a finger to her nose. “Silly girl. I can’t stay here with you. I am dead, after all.”
“But...”
His finger slid down to rest on her lips. “I only came here today to ask why you’re being such a stubborn fool and not letting go of the past.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can! If I can, I know without a doubt that you can too.”
“I should have died that day too. I shouldn’t have been able to come back. I should have been with you,” she cried as she laid her head against his chest. One of his hands rested on her back while the other came up to stroke her hair.
“You’re more a fool than I thought you were!” he exclaimed with a chuckle. He felt Kagome’s anger prickling and placed a small peck on her forehead to calm her. He didn’t have enough time to get into another verbal fighting match with her. “But that’s why I love you.”
She froze for a minute before pulling back to look into his eyes. He had just spoken those three little words that she wanted to hear so badly when they were both still alive.
“Do you mean that?” she asked a little fearfully.
“Of course. I’m dead. You don’t think I’d lie when I’m dead, do you?”
The corners of her lips pulled up in a sad smile because she knew that Inuyasha was being honest, but it didn’t matter anymore. They belonged to two different worlds. “I love you too, Inuyasha.”
“Then why won’t you let go of the past?” he asked gently.
“Because I love you!”
“Kagome, all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe, to be happy. I hate it that you’re always moping around because that’s not who you are. You are Kagome Higurashi, the most annoyingly lovable temperamental girl I’ve ever met in my life. But right now, you’re only a shell of the woman I fell in love with. I don’t want you to miss out on life because of me.”
“But it’s so hard to let go.”
“I know. I’m not saying that you should forget me–I’m not being selfish here either–but to remember me in that good kind of way, you know? I don’t want your memories of me to be sad and depressing. I want you to be happy.”
Kagome closed her eyes and took a couple of steadying breaths. She knew he was right. This wasn’t the way she should remember him, or any of her friends and companions for that matter. She should look back at the good times and laugh because that’s what they would have wanted.
She nodded before whispering, “I understand.”
“That’s good.”
He gazed at her with his beautiful amber eyes and stroked a stray lock of hair from her face. The corners of his lips twitched upwards in a reminiscent smile. They had been through so much. She was the one who taught him how to let go. She taught him how to be loved. She taught him how to be happy.
His eyelids fluttered close as he leaned closer to her and met her willing lips with his own as they shared a chaste and tender kiss. He pulled away reluctantly but he knew he had to go.
“Just a little longer?” she pleaded.
“Any longer and my reincarnation will be dead. He had gotten into a pretty bad accident and I used that opportunity to see you. He’ll be fine once I give him his soul back.”
Still one thing troubled her though...
“Inuyasha, what happened to the Shikon Jewel?”
He smirked his arrogant smirk that she had come to love so much but said nothing as he bent to give her a last peck on the cheek.
“I promise we’ll see each other again.”
Then, it was all over.
She felt a peace here that she had never known before and indulged in the beautiful silence.
“Hey Kagome.”
She froze as her heart stopped. That voice...could it be?
She turned slowly to face the source and felt her heart soar at the revelation. “Inuyasha!”
She ran towards him and squealed in delight when he easily picked her up and spun her around in his arms before holding her close in a tight embrace.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered amidst the tears.
“I’ve missed you too.”
For a long time, they just stood there holding each other, not wanting words to ruin the moment.
But, Kagome eventually pulled away to gaze into the face of one she had thought was lost forever. Yet a problem still nagged at the back of her mind. “How...I mean, how come–”
“How come I’m not dead?” he finished for her.
Not trusting her voice to speak, she nodded.
He smiled a genuine smile she had never seen before, and replied, “I am dead. This is only a dream Kagome.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned. “Well, I don’t ever want to wake up ever again.”
He touched a finger to her nose. “Silly girl. I can’t stay here with you. I am dead, after all.”
“But...”
His finger slid down to rest on her lips. “I only came here today to ask why you’re being such a stubborn fool and not letting go of the past.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can! If I can, I know without a doubt that you can too.”
“I should have died that day too. I shouldn’t have been able to come back. I should have been with you,” she cried as she laid her head against his chest. One of his hands rested on her back while the other came up to stroke her hair.
“You’re more a fool than I thought you were!” he exclaimed with a chuckle. He felt Kagome’s anger prickling and placed a small peck on her forehead to calm her. He didn’t have enough time to get into another verbal fighting match with her. “But that’s why I love you.”
She froze for a minute before pulling back to look into his eyes. He had just spoken those three little words that she wanted to hear so badly when they were both still alive.
“Do you mean that?” she asked a little fearfully.
“Of course. I’m dead. You don’t think I’d lie when I’m dead, do you?”
The corners of her lips pulled up in a sad smile because she knew that Inuyasha was being honest, but it didn’t matter anymore. They belonged to two different worlds. “I love you too, Inuyasha.”
“Then why won’t you let go of the past?” he asked gently.
“Because I love you!”
“Kagome, all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe, to be happy. I hate it that you’re always moping around because that’s not who you are. You are Kagome Higurashi, the most annoyingly lovable temperamental girl I’ve ever met in my life. But right now, you’re only a shell of the woman I fell in love with. I don’t want you to miss out on life because of me.”
“But it’s so hard to let go.”
“I know. I’m not saying that you should forget me–I’m not being selfish here either–but to remember me in that good kind of way, you know? I don’t want your memories of me to be sad and depressing. I want you to be happy.”
Kagome closed her eyes and took a couple of steadying breaths. She knew he was right. This wasn’t the way she should remember him, or any of her friends and companions for that matter. She should look back at the good times and laugh because that’s what they would have wanted.
She nodded before whispering, “I understand.”
“That’s good.”
He gazed at her with his beautiful amber eyes and stroked a stray lock of hair from her face. The corners of his lips twitched upwards in a reminiscent smile. They had been through so much. She was the one who taught him how to let go. She taught him how to be loved. She taught him how to be happy.
His eyelids fluttered close as he leaned closer to her and met her willing lips with his own as they shared a chaste and tender kiss. He pulled away reluctantly but he knew he had to go.
“Just a little longer?” she pleaded.
“Any longer and my reincarnation will be dead. He had gotten into a pretty bad accident and I used that opportunity to see you. He’ll be fine once I give him his soul back.”
Still one thing troubled her though...
“Inuyasha, what happened to the Shikon Jewel?”
He smirked his arrogant smirk that she had come to love so much but said nothing as he bent to give her a last peck on the cheek.
“I promise we’ll see each other again.”
Then, it was all over.
…
Mrs. Higurashi awoke to the muffled sniveling beside her, and she quickly realized that it was coming from her daughter.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Oh Mom! I miss them so much!” she wept. “I miss them so much...”
“Oh honey.” Mrs. Higurashi wrapped her loving arms around her daughter and rocked her back and forth like she used to do when Kagome was still a little child. “I know it hurts. It’s okay to cry. Just let it all out.”
And so they stayed like that all night as Kagome cried the tears that she had buried for so long.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Oh Mom! I miss them so much!” she wept. “I miss them so much...”
“Oh honey.” Mrs. Higurashi wrapped her loving arms around her daughter and rocked her back and forth like she used to do when Kagome was still a little child. “I know it hurts. It’s okay to cry. Just let it all out.”
And so they stayed like that all night as Kagome cried the tears that she had buried for so long.
…
Kagome took in a deep breath of air as she walked through the newly-renovated park. A year had passed since her constant journeying to the past had ended, and she was now looking forward to going to a university in the States. This would probably be the last time in a long time that she would have the opportunity to walk through this park.
Her smile was one of irony as she remembered how this very area was the once the site of a mighty bloodbath.
But the children who frolicked happily through the grass didn’t need to know that. The wise grandparents who smiled gently at their offspring didn’t need to know that. The loving young couples who walked under the gentle swaying trees didn’t need to know that.
No, nobody needed to know. Well, nobody but her. She needed to keep the memory alive in their honor.
God must have a sense of humor however. The very place where Miroku and Sango had died was now a memorial for the fallen heroes of old and new. And what better statue to stand guard than that of a giant iron firecat?
A couple of meters from the memorial stood the tree under which she had lain Shippou’s body. His soul must have merged with that of the tree for it grew and grew like a little boy’s body would grow, and she could have sworn that she saw the outline of a little boy with a fox’s tail etched into the bark. And at the base of the tree grew little red and white mushrooms.
Her midnight black hair swirled around her as the breeze picked up. She looked around her and saw the vibrant scarlet petals of several varieties of flowers and knew that they had grown to be so red only because of the blood the soil was fertilized in. She had once heard that the most beautiful flowers in life blossom from the place where the most bodies were buried. And she found it to be so true.
She made her way to where Inuyasha was buried and sniffled, her eyes stinging. In his place a giant dogwood tree had been planted. Its fragrant white flowers reminded her so much of his long silver hair and she couldn’t help the tears from flowing.
She had followed his instructions and her memories of him were now bittersweet. He was right. She could never forget him, but the pain of his loss had died down quite a bit.
“I wish that Kagome Higurashi will live,” he managed to grate out before falling dead to the world.
“I will never take your sacrifice for granted, Inuyasha. I will live and I will live happily in your memory.”
She pressed her fingers against her lips and touched the tree with her fingertips. Sniffling one more time she turned away from his tree and found herself staring at him.
And her heart began to beat wildly for the first time ever since she returned to the modern times.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Yet, it was him but at the same time it wasn’t. His hair was jet black and his dog ears were nowhere in sight.
But his eyes...those eyes that locked onto hers and gazed at her in confusion. Those addictive golden swirls...those were his eyes.
Her smile was one of irony as she remembered how this very area was the once the site of a mighty bloodbath.
But the children who frolicked happily through the grass didn’t need to know that. The wise grandparents who smiled gently at their offspring didn’t need to know that. The loving young couples who walked under the gentle swaying trees didn’t need to know that.
No, nobody needed to know. Well, nobody but her. She needed to keep the memory alive in their honor.
God must have a sense of humor however. The very place where Miroku and Sango had died was now a memorial for the fallen heroes of old and new. And what better statue to stand guard than that of a giant iron firecat?
A couple of meters from the memorial stood the tree under which she had lain Shippou’s body. His soul must have merged with that of the tree for it grew and grew like a little boy’s body would grow, and she could have sworn that she saw the outline of a little boy with a fox’s tail etched into the bark. And at the base of the tree grew little red and white mushrooms.
Her midnight black hair swirled around her as the breeze picked up. She looked around her and saw the vibrant scarlet petals of several varieties of flowers and knew that they had grown to be so red only because of the blood the soil was fertilized in. She had once heard that the most beautiful flowers in life blossom from the place where the most bodies were buried. And she found it to be so true.
She made her way to where Inuyasha was buried and sniffled, her eyes stinging. In his place a giant dogwood tree had been planted. Its fragrant white flowers reminded her so much of his long silver hair and she couldn’t help the tears from flowing.
She had followed his instructions and her memories of him were now bittersweet. He was right. She could never forget him, but the pain of his loss had died down quite a bit.
“I wish that Kagome Higurashi will live,” he managed to grate out before falling dead to the world.
“I will never take your sacrifice for granted, Inuyasha. I will live and I will live happily in your memory.”
She pressed her fingers against her lips and touched the tree with her fingertips. Sniffling one more time she turned away from his tree and found herself staring at him.
And her heart began to beat wildly for the first time ever since she returned to the modern times.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Yet, it was him but at the same time it wasn’t. His hair was jet black and his dog ears were nowhere in sight.
But his eyes...those eyes that locked onto hers and gazed at her in confusion. Those addictive golden swirls...those were his eyes.
…
“Inuyasha” found himself drawn towards the lone girl standing by the dogwood tree. Somehow, he had a feeling that he had seen her once before.
He walked towards her and the feeling grew. He caught her brilliant azure eyes and felt his heart melt at the sorrow she held inside.
“Hi,” he managed to choke out when he stood a couple feet away.
She cocked her head at him and squinted her eyes a little, almost as if she wasn’t sure he existed. “Hi...”
“Have…we met before?” He mentally kicked himself. It came out like a hackneyed pick-up line.
However, she surprised him when she looked down for a little bit before giving him a bright smile. “Yeah...I think we have.”
He walked towards her and the feeling grew. He caught her brilliant azure eyes and felt his heart melt at the sorrow she held inside.
“Hi,” he managed to choke out when he stood a couple feet away.
She cocked her head at him and squinted her eyes a little, almost as if she wasn’t sure he existed. “Hi...”
“Have…we met before?” He mentally kicked himself. It came out like a hackneyed pick-up line.
However, she surprised him when she looked down for a little bit before giving him a bright smile. “Yeah...I think we have.”
…
A/N: Please don't hurt me. I know you guys are probably thinking what kind of crazy woman does that kind of sick torture to those poor innocent creatures? And all I can say is...sorry? I was in a very dark mood and so it came out very dark.
Oh and for anyone confused about the Shikon Jewel or why there's a Inuyasha look-alike at the end, I'll try to clarify here.
So Naraku died–don't ask me how but it has something to do with Kikyo since she's dead too and she caused the nice big blast–and Inuyasha somehow got his hands on the Shikon Jewel. Unfortunately, by that time, Inuyasha was near death but he was afraid of Kagome dying so he used his wish to save Kagome's life. Thus the whole "I wish that Kagome Higurashi will live" deal. And then he died.
Kagome was badly traumatized by the whole event ad began to go a little crazy and definitely depressed. So, Inuyasha shows up in her dream to convince her to live a normal life. Now I know that Inuyasha may seem OOC, but that's because he's dead. The only way he got to see her, though, was because his reincarnation–who shows up at the very end–got into a life-threatening accident. He borrowed his soul for a little bit but had to return it real soon so that he didn't end up killing the poor guy.
Um...I think that's all for the explanations. If you have any other questions I'll just be making it up anyway.
Reviewers will be loved and those that don't...won't?
Oh and for anyone confused about the Shikon Jewel or why there's a Inuyasha look-alike at the end, I'll try to clarify here.
So Naraku died–don't ask me how but it has something to do with Kikyo since she's dead too and she caused the nice big blast–and Inuyasha somehow got his hands on the Shikon Jewel. Unfortunately, by that time, Inuyasha was near death but he was afraid of Kagome dying so he used his wish to save Kagome's life. Thus the whole "I wish that Kagome Higurashi will live" deal. And then he died.
Kagome was badly traumatized by the whole event ad began to go a little crazy and definitely depressed. So, Inuyasha shows up in her dream to convince her to live a normal life. Now I know that Inuyasha may seem OOC, but that's because he's dead. The only way he got to see her, though, was because his reincarnation–who shows up at the very end–got into a life-threatening accident. He borrowed his soul for a little bit but had to return it real soon so that he didn't end up killing the poor guy.
Um...I think that's all for the explanations. If you have any other questions I'll just be making it up anyway.
Reviewers will be loved and those that don't...won't?