InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ You Are Never Alone ❯ Until Death Do Us Part ( Chapter 5 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A/N: So, I've taken much longer than I had intended to update this and it's mostly because I was hesitant about posting this chapter. I think I get anxious about writing darker stuff and I realized I just had to sit down and write! I've had this chapter written for very near forever (the end to this story was written in my head almost since I wrote the first sentence) and then I felt like it wasn't long enough... so I added more to make it long enough for two chapters and then just decided 'to hell with it' and to post it all at the same time and just be done with it. So, here it is, the final chapter... you will either like it or hate it, but I'm just relieved that it is finished.

Enjoy.



Chapter 5

Until Death Do Us Part


“What is this?”

“Well, since you seem to be an amateur at using a bow and arrow, I thought that maybe this would be an easier task for you.”

Brown eyes darkened to nearly black with anger. “I am not an amateur and you know it.”

“Seeing as the target was his heart and not his shoulder, I would say that perhaps you should spend a little more time practicing.”

“I was aiming for the girl.”

Blood red eyes narrowed. “Do not think to get insolent with me, woman. You are nothing more than a construct, a whisper of thought that I have breathed life into. I could have left you a pile of ashes and bones.”

The woman refused to rise to the bait, held up the small vile that was half the size of her pinky and not much bigger around. “Are you going to tell me what this is?”

The man with the blood red eyes nestled back into his white fur cloak, a contented, if wicked, smile on his face. “Just think of it as...a dog tranquilizer. You slip it into his drink. The rest will work itself out...”


“Did you know that ninety percent of relationships are based on sex?”

Inuyasha raised an eyebrow and glanced at Miroku. “You made that up,” he said. Miroku shrugged. “Besides, ninety percent of your relationships are based on sex, monk; which doesn't mean that everyone else's are.”

Miroku opened his mouth to reply just as Inuyasha stiffened. Violet eyes looked questioningly at the hanyou as Inuyasha turned slightly in his seat, scowling at the tall, silvery-haired man walking up to them.

Inuyasha sighed. “What do you want?” he asked.

Sesshomaru smiled wryly at his younger brother and nodded toward the attentive bartender. “Laphroaig, neat,” he said. “Since you are offering,” he added, leaning gracefully against the bar and looking down at Inuyasha.

“That's not exactly what I meant,” Inuyasha said with a small frown.

Sesshomaru raised his glass in a small, sardonic toast. “I have news,” he said.

“I don't want to hear it.”

“Oh, I think you might.” Inuyasha's frown deepened. “It involves a certain miko that you acquired feelings for.”

“Kagome?”

Sesshomaru took a sip of the amber liquid after contemplating it for a moment. “No,” he said, setting his glass on the bar. “The other one.”

“Kikyou.”

Sesshomaru nodded slightly, his golden eyes drifting away from his half-brother and over the patrons of the restaurant. “It seems that my hypothesis about her was correct... except that it was not a crazed sorceress.”

Inuyasha tried to wait patiently for his elder brother to continue and, when he didn't, his hand tighten around his glass and he let loose a low growl. “Then who was it?” he finally asked.

Golden suns collided, sparked. “His name was originally, I believe, Onigumo,” Sesshomaru said. “He was supposed to have died years before Kikyou.”

Inuyasha scowled. “Onigumo? Why does that name sound familiar?”

Sesshomaru shrugged. “He goes by the name Naraku now,” he said. “It is a name that I have heard whispered, and not often, among the less... savory groups of youkai. I believe that it is he who has brought Kikyou back and it is he who she and Akitoki-san are working for.”

“Akitoki-san?” Inuyasha's brow creased. “That cockbiter who wanted to marry Kagome?”

“The very same,” Sesshomaru said, his lips twitching ever so slightly at his brother's description of the human. “I did some digging-”

“You mean, you killed a few people,” Inuyasha interjected.

A thin eyebrow rose at the interruption and Sesshomaru gave an indifferent shrug. “And I found that this Naraku has been using the Akitoki family like puppets, mostly for doing his dirty work because he cannot -or will not.”

“Why are you telling us this?”

Sesshomaru's gaze flicked past Inuyasha to look at Miroku. “Because, if my theories are correct, then I believe that he is going to be very interested in you new miko,” he said, his gaze once again resting on his brother.

Inuyasha was frowning at the bar top, trying to work it all out in his head. “Onigumo,” he murmured. “There was a man with the same name that Kikyou took care of when she was still alive. He was badly burned. I remember her telling me how sad it was that he probably wouldn't live.” He paused and his hand tightened even more around his glass. “She mentioned, in an off-handed way, that he asked about the Sacred Jewel that she carried with her.”

“The same that Higurashi-chan carries?” Miroku asked.

Inuyasha looked up at the violet-eyed man, startled; Sesshomaru merely nodded, as though he had known.

“But Onigumo died,” Inuyasha said. “He was human and he died.”

“Perhaps not, brother,” Sesshomaru said. “Perhaps he became a puppet for darker forces. Which means... “ he trailed off, waving an elegant hand in a vague gesture.

“Which means he could still be alive... would be hanyou,” Inuyasha finished. “Or something like it.”

“And, if he is still interested in this Sacred Jewel, then your new miko is not safe.”

The glass in Inuyasha's hand shattered.


Kagome blinked blearily at the clock beside her bed, trying to figure out why she had woken up. Seeing the green numbers shining four forty-five back at her, she scrunched her eyes closed and rolled over, moving closer to Inuyasha.

When all she found was warm blankets, her eyes flew open again. She stared at the indentation on the pillow that showed where he had been laying and frowned. Sitting up, she clutched the light sheet to herself, trying to pierce through the moonless darkness in the room.

“Inuyasha?” she whispered, knowing that he would hear her.

When there was no reply, she frowned and closed her eyes again, trying to find his aura in the house. She wrapped the sheet completely around her when she found nothing, moved as quietly as she could to the bed room door, opening it just as quietly.

“Inuyasha?” she called softly, looking down the hallway.

She left the bedroom, the edge of the sheet echoing the whisper of her feet against the floor. She was holding her breath as she descended the stairs, a chill of dread crawling up her arms and shivering down her spine.

“Inuyasha?”

She didn't know why she was whispering, couldn't have explained the small panicky sensation that was fluttering around like unruly butterflies in her stomach. She walked silently past the kitchen, paused for a brief moment to look in, her eyes finding nothing but dark shadows before she made her way into the living room.

“Inuyasha?”

Shadows moved out of the corner of her eye and she felt a scream lodge itself in her throat as she turned. A slender young man was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his head lolling back against the couch. On the coffee table in front of him sat a mirror that looked like a pool of quicksilver with fine white powder floating on top of it.

Kagome took a hesitant step forward, trying to get a better look, clutching the sheet in a sweaty hand tighter to her chest. He had midnight black hair that disappeared in the darkness of the couch and his skin was a dusky gold. She stood still as his head rolled toward her, as dark eyes opened and as two silver hoops glinted dully in a very human looking ear.

“Inu... yasha?”

It seemed, for a moment, that he couldn't see her. His eyes seemed to lose focus, couldn't seem to track, seemed to look through her. She didn't know how long she stood there staring at him, but a sudden tingling over her skin made her gasp, made her take a step back and hunch forward as though she had just been punched in the stomach. The hairs on her arms stood on end as though an electrical current was running through her.

She heard movement, lifted her head and blinked through strands of raven hair, watched as his eyes came back into focus, watched his whole body go suddenly rigid when he looked at her. The shadows in the room were slowly starting to be chased away by the rising sun and Kagome stood, transfixed, as Inuyasha stood up, as his hair started to noticeably lighten, as the color seemed to drain away from his eyes.

The living room was blanketed in a thick, pregnant silence that pushed with an almost palpable force against them as they stared at each other; Kagome's eyes wide and Inuyasha looking just over her shoulder, his expression stony and closed.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome finally whispered, her voice grating through the silence. “Inuyasha... what... what happened?”

He looked away and she saw a muscle in his jaw jump. “I'm human for one night every month,” he bit out harshly.

Human...

She realized now that this was the reason she hadn't been able to feel his presence earlier. She watched as the lines of his face pulled more taut, as his expression became more grim the longer the silence lasted.

And if he's human that means that he has none of his youkai abilities... which would explain why he didn't hear me calling him...

She could see that he was watching for her reaction out of the corners of his eyes.

And, if he doesn't have his youkai abilities, then he probably feels vulnerable... feels as though he is weak and helpless...

She could tell that he was waiting for her to have a negative response and, when it took her too long to sort everything out in her head, he scowled fiercely, even as his ears reappeared on the top of his head and drooped.

“I'm leaving,” he growled.

“Wait, Inuyasha. Don't you think we should talk about this?” Kagome asked, taking a step toward him, nodding in the general direction of the coffee table.

“What's there to talk about?”

She gnawed at her lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted without making him angry. Kagome knew that he thought she was mad at him because of the drugs, because he had lied to her. But that wasn't what bothered her. What really upset her was the fact that he had felt he had to keep a very important part of himself from her because he thought that she wouldn't accept him.

“I'm leaving,” he repeated.

Kagome just nodded, clutched the sheet tighter around herself and watched as he walked out. She knew he would go back to his apartment in the city, knew that she would go find him tomorrow night, or perhaps the night after.

And then, hopefully, we can discuss this without him getting defensive, she thought to herself. With a resigned sigh, Kagome gathered the sheet around her and slowly made her way back to an empty bed.


He knew there was something wrong but he couldn't think past the fuzziness that had wrapped inextricably foggy fingers around his mind. He stumbled into his bed, felt fingers made of cool flesh plucking at his clothes, felt a cold mouth running over the skin that was quickly becoming exposed. Inuyasha reached out, hands meeting a fully clothed form, and he grunted in irritation. He dimly registered the breathy moan as he pulled off her shirt, as he cupped her full breasts.

“Kagome,” he murmured.

A low, throaty chuckle echoed around him and he felt her hot tongue sear over the skin that had been chilled by her lips. She was teasing him, would pull away as he tried to pull her down. He growled with frustration, yanked her to himself and then rolled on top of her. His knee wedged itself between her legs, forcing them open. He felt her struggle slightly and became increasingly angrier at her unwillingness to submit to him.

“What's fuckin' wrong with you, bitch?” he growled. His eyes wouldn't focus on her face in the dark and he could only see pale skin surrounded by a nimbus of inky black hair.

Something is terribly wrong, was the thought that quietly whispered through his mind as he grasped her full hips, sank himself deep inside of her. Once incased in her warm flesh, he couldn't think past relieving the tension that had built within him, couldn't be bothered with details like how the skin under his fingers wasn't as soft as he remembered it, how her arousal didn't smell the same, didn't make him as hard as it usually did.

He grunted with effort, the moans coming from below him not quite right. As he thrust himself into her one last time, he nicked his tongue against the sharp point of a fang, felt his teeth sink into her flesh just where her neck met her shoulder. He concentrated on the blood gushing into his mouth, trying not to gag at its acerbic taste, and felt a burning sensation on his chest. A shaft of light had fallen across her face he noticed as he lifted his head, and her dark brown eyes were looking toward the door, a soft, almost regretful smile on her lips.

His orgasm rolled through him as he followed the direction of her gaze. Golden suns were clouded by watery grey storms and he felt himself instantly wilt.

Inuyasha scrambled away from Kikyou, nearly falling off the bed in his haste. She closed her legs, pulled a sheet around herself, and gazed at him.

“You weren't quite as good as I had always hoped, Yasha,” she said, just loud enough that her voice carried to the door. She raised a hand to her neck, held her fingers up and contemplated the blood there with a small smile. “You certainly are eager, though.”

Inuyasha couldn't take his eyes away from Kagome standing in the doorway, looking completely stricken. He could smell her anger, but, more powerful than that, he could smell her tears, could see the anguish that was pooling in her eyes and threatening to roll down her cheeks. An icy fist clutched at his heart, tightened its hold until he nearly lost his breath.

“Kagome-” His voice came out choked.

She shook her head, took a step away. “No,” she whispered.

“Kagome, it isn't-”

“Don't insult her, Yasha,” came Kikyou's voice from the bed. “It's exactly what she thinks.”

Inuyasha's own anger started to spark within him, but he still couldn't turn away from Kagome who was slowly backing out of the room. He tore the sheet away from Kikyou, wrapped it around himself, walking unsteadily toward the door, his stomach curling.

“Kagome, please-”

“No!” The grey storms became turbulent as she looked away from the woman on the bed and locked her gaze on him. “I knew this would happen,” she whispered, fiercely. “I am such a fool.”

“No, Kagome. I-”

“Is it because she looks like me?”

Inuyasha shook his head, was slowly closing the distance between them because he was afraid he would startle her into running.

“Then what is it?!”

He reached out, tried to pull her toward himself, was unprepared for her to fight him.

“Don't fucking touch me!” she screamed, slapping his hands away.

“Kagome-”

She struggled with him, pushed against his chest in an effort to yank away from his grip. When her open hand connected with his cheek, Inuyasha instantly let her go, stumbling back more from bewilderment than pain. His front door opened and Inuyasha saw Akitoki-san grasping her arm, pulling her along with him, a triumphant smile on his face.

“No, Kagome! Wait! Please!”

She buried her face into Hojo's shoulder and the cold fist that was clutching Inuyasha's heart squeezed until the organ shattered as he saw her small frame wracked with sobs. Hojo held onto her as he walked her out the door.

The last thing Inuyasha remembered seeing of her were her wide, dark eyes looking back at him in confusion; hurt and despair etching lines around them. They were all he could see, even as the door shut on them, even as he turned to look at the woman walking out of his bedroom. His stomach suddenly rebelled and Inuyasha found himself on his hands and knees, retching.

“Ah, the poor puppy,” came the silky voice from above him. He felt her kneel down, felt her cold fingers run through his hair.

He reached up and weakly smacked her hand away. “Get out,” he whispered, hoarsely. She stayed where she was, made a small mew of disappointment. “Get the fuck out!” he roared.

With a shrug, Kikyou walked back into the bedroom. He could faintly hear the rustle of clothes. When she returned, she stood over him.

“You can't get rid of me forever,” she told him. “You've chosen me, Inuyasha.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she said. She knelt down again, ran her finger over a spot on his chest. “You see here? This means that your youkai will search for me every full moon,” she whispered. “This means that you are mine...until death.”


It felt as though someone had reached into her chest and yanked her heart out through her sternum. Kagome didn't think that anything could ever be this excruciating. Her brain couldn't even function around the hole that seemed to have formed where her heart used to be. Her stomach seemed intent on rebelling against gravity, her lungs refused to expand and contract as they should.

I'm dying.

It certainly felt like it. She knew, somewhere in the now eclipsed, cognitive parts of her mind that this was ridiculous. No one had ever dies of a broken heart.

Broken? Try ripped out, shred into fine silvers and the ground violently underfoot.

She was aware enough to realize that she was being moved, being led down a set of stairs, being ushered out into the cooling autumn air. Just as she was sitting, golden eyes flashed before her, miserable, confused... clouded. Kagome gave a cry of anguish, tried to claw her way out of the car she had been placed in, only faintly hearing the curses of whoever she fought with.

Something was wrong; she was sure of it. But she could get past that woman spread out on Inuyasha's bed, couldn't see past him grunting with effort between her legs. The thought sickened her and she only had a moment's warning before her stomach completely revolted.

She heard shouting again, was almost certain it was directed toward her, but didn't care. A sharp, stinging pain flared across her cheek, but that didn't even compare to the agonizing void that had taken residence in her chest.

And then, warm, comforting arms wrapped softly around her, familiar scents filled her nose. Kagome felt herself go numb with the knowledge that she would be temporarily safe.

When she eventually woke, it was to the hesitant songs of birds outside the window of a room that was all to familiar to her. Kagome felt fingers brushing her bangs aside in a slow, soothing pattern, opened her eyes to see her mother sitting next to her.

“Kagome, dear, are you okay?” the older woman asked.

There was a sharp stab in Kagome's chest and she abruptly sat up, throwing her arms around her mother.

“Oh, Mama,” she sobbed.

“Shh... oh, honey, I'm so sorry,” Mama Higurashi murmured into her daughter's dark hair. Hojo-kun told us what happened... or at least, some of what happened.” The older woman paused. “I should never have pushed you into this.” The sobs that wracked Kagome's body felt like they were going to tear her apart. “I never though he would hit you.”

The words slowly pierced through her grief. Kagome sniffed loudly, pulled away to look up at her mother.

“What?” she asked, confused.

Mama Higurashi gave Kagome a small, sad smile and raised her hand to touch her daughter's right cheek. “The bruise on your face,” she began. “Hojo-kun told us that Inuyasha-san hit you.”

Kagome blinked, started to shake her head, furrowed her brow in an effort to remember what had happened. “No,” she said. “No, that's not right. Yasha didn't hit me... He was... there was something wrong with him.”

“Of course there was, dear,” her mother said.

The pity in her mother's voice infuriated Kagome. She pulled completely out of her mother's arms, scowling. “Yasha didn't hit me,” she said again, more firmly. “He would never...” she trailed off, trying to remember. “Hojo,” she breathed, her fingers touching her face where the bruise was, her mind vaguely recalling the stinging sensation. “Hojo hit me,” she said, looking at her mother.

Mama Higurashi shook her head. “Hojo-kun wouldn't do such a thing, Kagome. I am ashamed that you would think so poorly of him.”

“But-”

“Kagome, you were so upset that you couldn't even walk,” her mother interrupted.

Kagome's frown deepened as she looked at her mother. What was happening? When had Mama become an advocate of Hojo's? As far as Kagome knew, her mother had never liked him.

“Mama... what's going on?” she whispered. “I thought you liked Inuyasha.”

Mama Higurashi frowned. “I thought it best to indulge a whim of yours, my dear,” she said. Kagome started to shake her head, a whispered “no” making its way from her throat. “How could you honestly believe that I would approve of you dating a hanyou?” her mother asked, sternly. “It's a shame someone hasn't thought to rid the world of him.”

Something was wrong... something was terribly wrong. This was not her mother; this was not the woman who had a kind thing to say about everyone, who found the good in someone, no matter their faults. This was not the cheerful woman that could make the best out of the worst situation. What had happened to her mother?

“Who are you?” she whispered.

She watched as her mother's features pulled taut, saw the skin of her mouth twist into a horrifyingly mocking smile.

“Ah, it's a shame you figured it out so soon. I was hoping that we could have played until I convinced you that Akitoki-san was a good person. How is it, little miko, that no matter who I am, you can detect me? I can see this becoming an inconvenience.”

The hauntingly familiar voice was like a dark winter night, void of comfort and warmth, the iciness reaching out to steal the very breath from Kagome. It sent tremors of terror running through her as she listened to it coming from her mother's throat.

“I would have liked to have played this game longer,” it continued. “But I have more important things to take care of... like purging the world of half-breed filth.”

Mama Higurashi crumpled forward onto the bed, as though a string that had been holding her up had suddenly been cut. Kagome, unsure of anything anymore, hesitated before moving to her mother's side, reaching out slowly to place a hand on the older woman's shoulder.

“What is happening?” she whispered.


The shadows showed only wide, stormy grey eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He couldn't look away from them, couldn't hide from them, could see them on the backs of his eyelids when he blinked, when he tried, futilely, to sleep. The drugs managed to make things better for a short amount of time, but, when they wore off, reality would come crashing around him with the violence of a tsunami.

He had destroyed the one person he had wanted to cherish, the one person that had made every waking moment something to look forward to instead of something to loathe. He couldn't even remember what had happened, but he had this sinking feeling that he was entirely at fault. Private parties had been booked at both the restaurant and the club that night and, as an owner, he had had his hands full making sure that everything went smoothly. He vaguely saw Kikyou at the edges of his memory, but, at the time, had never been entirely aware that she had been there. He had been so damn busy that night... had probably had too much to drink, not from the stress at work but because he had felt guilty about walking out on Kagome the night before. But there was nothing that could have made him that unaware of his surroundings, that could have made him confuse her with someone else. How could he have done this?

You're innately self-destructive. You never expect the good things to happen to you so, when they do, you manage to find a way to fuck everything up so you can sit back and say, 'See? My life is shit.'

Which led to him laying on the floor of his apartment above the restaurant, staring up at a ceiling shrouded in shadows, pumped so full of heroin that he could barely remember his own name. And yet, he could remember hers, could remember her smile, her laugh. He had been staring at the dark square of the door that led up to the roof for... he didn't know how long now... hours?... days?... seeing it as though he was underwater. He felt another piece of his heart tear away as the memories surrounded him.

'Yasha? Just so you know, as long as I'm around, you never have to be alone.'

'Promise?'

'Promise.'

He fought his way back to the surface of the present, gasping for air like a drowning man. The drugs were wearing off, it was the only explanation. He raised himself unsteadily to his elbows, peering through eyes cloudy with suffering and regret. The apartment was cold, filled with the bitter images of him marking another, mating another, and the sad eyes of the one who he had betrayed.

There was a soft knocking at the door and he stumbled in his haste to reach it, hoping, praying, pleading with the gods that it would be her. The disappointment of seeing concerned violet eyes on the other side was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

“Yasha,” Miroku said, softly. “Yasha, you have to get out of here. Let's go get something to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.”

Miroku followed Inuyasha slowly into the living room. The couch had been eviscerated, its white, fluffy entrails strewn about the room in soft piles. The coffee table was broken in half, the television thrown on top of it. Shattered glass attempted to sparkled in the dim light that came from the windows and bloody footprints could be seen making feral circles around the apartment. Miroku wondered, as he eyed the red splattered on the kitchen counter around the remnants of dishes and glasses, as he noticed the crimson hand print that was smeared on the frame of the door to the bedroom, just how much blood the hanyou had lost.

“Inuyasha, you need to eat, you need to sober up... and you need to take a goddamn shower,” Miroku said. The golden scowl wasn't even half as intense as it usually was. Miroku shook his head and frowned at his friend. “Go take a shower, Inuyasha,” he repeated.

“Fuck off, monk. Why don't you just fuckin' leave me alone?”

“Because you're my friend and I'm concerned,” Miroku said. “You're going to kill yourself if you keep doing this.”

Red slashed through the gold as Inuyasha spun around to face him. He ripped open the front of his shirt, exposing dusky skin that was marred just over his heart.

“Do you see this?! Do you know what this means?!” Inuyasha roared. “This means that I don't give a fuck if I die anymore.”

Miroku peered at the blood red characters on Inuyasha's chest. “What is that?” he asked. “Is that... oh, gods, is that... ?”

“Kikyou's name in Kanji,” Inuyasha confirmed, turning away and crossing to the window. Sharp claws sank into the wood of the window sill. Inuyasha looked deceptively serene as he gazed out on the city outside, as the wood under his fingers splintered in his hands, driving through his skin. “I thought maybe, just maybe, because I was hanyou it could be changed,” he said, softly. He didn't even flinch as the wood pushed up through his hand, as it ground against his bones and pierced through the flesh on the other side. “Last night, during the new moon, I tried to carve it out. It was so painful that I passed out. When I woke up this morning, the skin had healed... and the mark was still there.”

Miroku sucked in a deep breath. “So it's true,” he whispered. “Inuyasha, what have you done?”


“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It's been three weeks. I have to get my stuff sometime.”

“Why don't I take you back to my place and I can come back here?”

Kagome sighed and shook her head. “No. Two people will be faster than one,” she said, looking out of the car window at the dark house. Yasumidokoro seemed to sag in weary sorrow under the heavy drifts of snow on its roof. “Besides, he's not here.”

Sango eyed her friend and then nodded once. “Okay. Let's get this over with.”

Exactly what I was thinking.

Kagome trudged through nearly knee high, pristine snow that covered the path that led up to the front door. It was true what she said; Inuyasha wasn't here -hadn't been here for awhile it looked like, since the snow around the house was still untouched from the blizzard last week. She found herself wondering where he was, what he was doing, and immediately chided herself.

Why do you care? He hasn't tried to get ahold of you or to find where you are staying... he obviously doesn't care, so why do you?

She couldn't come up with an answer. She shrugged the question off and pushed the front door open, taking a slow step into the dark house. Every corner, every room, every piece of furniture had a memory attached to it. She found herself holding her breath as she walked along the hallway, as she cautiously peered into the kitchen.

The sun had been shining through the windows in the kitchen that morning... do you remember? Inuyasha was already awake, was scowling darkly at a plate of black squares while the toaster smoked behind him. He looked up at you with a burning golden gaze that could very well have been the source of the fire as you walked in, dejection in his eyes, his ears drooping slightly.

'What's wrong, Yasha?'

'I was trying to... ' he trailed off with a forlorn shrug.

He had burnt the toast he was trying to make for breakfast... the eggs hadn't been cooked long enough and were runny...

'It's okay. We can just scrape the toast off.'

It had been hard to contain the laughter as the black stuff had been scraped into the sink. And it was, without a doubt, the worst toast ever. Inuyasha had watched as you chewed, as you attempted to swallow.

'It's really bad, isn't it?'

'It's not bad...' Doubt lingered in the lines around Inuyasha's mouth as he frowned. 'Okay, it's terrible.'

Kagome shook away the gossamer veil of memories as she walked up the stairs to the bedroom. They assaulted her again as soon as she pushed the door open, as soon as she stepped across the threshold and breathed in the wild muskiness that had always been uniquely him. Memories of them laying together on the soft, wide bed, tangled sheets and tangled limbs were almost real and the images blurred as she felt a burning prick in her eyes. She could remember how it felt to nestle against him, how he would run his long, claw-tipped fingers through her hair as she read.

'Is that really that interesting?'

Kagome nodded faintly, barely hearing the question. She had been sucked into the book as assuredly as if it had been a black hole. She had just reached the good part, near the end, where the protagonist meets the one that Kagome just knew she was going to fall in love with... hopefully in the next book.

'It's more interesting than me?'

'Yes, Yasha,' Kagome said, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips even as she felt her cheeks heat. The book was starting to get detailed... again.

She stared at her hands for a moment before she realized what had happened. Inuyasha had snatched the book from her, was reading it with a furrowed brow. He flipped to the beginning, licked his lips.

'”He drew out his sword, with which he had cut back all the vines outside, and gently slipping the blade between her breasts, let it rip easily through the old fabric,”' Inuyasha read. He paused, cast a glance at Kagome out of the corner of his eyes, a grin appearing when he saw how red her cheeks had become.

'Give it back,' Kagome said, reaching for the book.

Inuyasha shook his head, holding the desired object away from her, flipping to the next page and reading, '”He mounted her, parting her legs, giving the white inner flesh of her thighs a soft, deep pinch, and, clasping her right breast in his left hand, he thrust his sex into her.”' Inuyasha grunted when Kagome elbowed him sharply in the stomach.

'Give it back.'

'My dear, what are you doing reading this... smut?'

'It isn't smut, and I can read whatever I want,' Kagome said, crawling over him in another attempt to take the book.

He tossed it on the floor, grabbing her by the hips and forcing her to straddle him. 'I don't really care what you read,' he told her, running his tongue up her throat to nip at her earlobe in a way that always made her shiver with desire. 'I just think it's more fun to do than read about... don't you?' he breathed.

Her nose was becoming stuffy as she sat on the edge of the bed. Thank the gods it wasn't this bed that she had seen-

Kagome shook her head violently, dislodging images that made bile rise in the back of her throat. A tear escaped the prison of her lashes to curve down her cheek in a slow trail. She brushed it away angrily as she stood up, irritated with herself. She had spent almost two weeks crying and she refused to do any more of it. Her stomach twisted and curled like a dissatisfied cat as she started grabbing clothes out of the dressers and closet, shoving them into suitcases.

She heard a creak in the hallway, heard a foot slide across the floor, but didn't turn to face the door as she zipped up the last garment bag.

“I'm almost done,” she said.

“What are you doing?”

Everything except for her heart froze at the sound of the soft voice. The organ that she thought had been destroyed tumbled back into her chest and started beating fiercely. She should have known it was him, she could still feel him around the edges of her senses; slightly different now, but still distinctively him. Fighting to keep her hands steady, Kagome took a deep breath.

“What does it look like?” she asked, a little harsher than she intended. “I'm packing.”

“Why?”

She gave a scornful snort. “Do I even need to answer that?”

The silence lasted so long that she thought he had gone. She turned to find him standing just outside of the door, head bent so that his long bangs hid his eyes in shadows and his ears drooping lower than she had ever seen them. His hands were shoved into his pockets and pulled the top of his pants down slightly, exposing the golden skin of his flat stomach. He was wearing much the same thing as he had been the first time she had ever seen him. Now, though, he had white bandages wrapped around his wrists up to his elbows.

Damn him anyway for being so sexy.

“No,” he whispered, answering her question.

She stared at him for a moment longer, her heart breaking again -which she would have thought impossible if she hadn't felt it. She slung the strap of a suitcase over one shoulder and nearly toppled under the weight.

He was at her side immediately, taking the bag from her. His claws brushed her shoulder and she could feel them even through the thick material of her sweater.

“Don't,” she said, shifting away from him, taking the bag out of his hands.

“I'm just trying to-”

“Trying to what, Inuyasha? Trying to help me? To keep me from getting hurt?” she asked, her voice rising with each question. She watched as he flinched away from the disdain in her voice.

And was surprised when he answered, “Yes.”

She had thought herself a desert; empty, desiccated. But fresh tears sprung up like a pool in an oasis and, with them, a turbulent river of fury raged to the surface.

“Yes?” she spat back at him. “Nothing can compare to what you've done to me,” she said. A small part of Kagome cringed at her hateful tone and, at the same time, it was satisfying to see that he wouldn't meet her eyes. “You should have thought about that before you crawled between Kikyou's legs.” He glance up at her. “I know what you did.”

“I thought... “ he trailed off, shook his head, looking away from her. “I though she was you,” he finally whispered.

The anger exploded in her and, with it, something else, something that made Inuyasha wince and stagger a step backward as though he had been physically struck. “You thought she was me?” she whispered, fiercely. “You fuckin' thought she was me?!” Her fist punctuated the last four words against his chest. She found it remotely odd that every time her hand touched him he looked like he was in excruciating pain. “Those might hanyou senses of yours didn't correct you? You know what I think? I think that that wasn't it at all. I think that you wanted this, wanted her. I think that you are the same asshole,” her fist hit him in the chest again, “that I was warned about. It's nice to see you're finally living up to your reputation. What I can't believe,” and Kagome gave a slightly hysterical laugh, even as she felt the tears start to prick at her eyes again, “what's the real kicker, is that you marked her. Not only that, but you do it after you assure me that you want nothing to do with her, after you tell me that you love me.” She took a deep breath, regained her control. “I was right. People don't change -especially people like you.”

“It wasn't supposed to happen like this,” he said.

“What wasn't, Inuyasha? I wasn't supposed to find out that you were fucking some other woman?”

“That's not what I mean,” he said, shaking his head. He looked lost, confused, the same as he had when she had seen him last. “I can't remember what happened that night,” he told her. “I don't even remember her being there. I just remember talking to Miroku and going down to the restaurant and then seeing you... after. But everything in the middle is a blur.” He looked up at her again and she noticed that his eyes were red. Not the glowing crimson they became when his youkai was trying to take control, but the bloodshot red of someone who had been crying.

Or doing too many drugs, a quietly malicious voice whispered.

Kagome saw his left ear flick back toward the door, looked over his shoulder to see Sango standing there, Miroku behind her in the shadows.

“I'm sorry, Kags,” Sango said, crossing the bedroom and picking up some of the suitcases. “I tried to stop him.”

Kagome took a deep breath. “It's okay,” she said. “I think we've said all there was left to say.”

“Kagome-”

She jerked away from Inuyasha when he reached out to her, glaring at him. “Don't touch me,” she said, wishing her voice was steadier. “You have no right anymore.”

She thanked Miroku when he helped load the car, watched without envy as Sango hugged him; although she felt her heart tug painfully as she watched the couple kiss quickly. As they pulled away from Yasumidokoro, Kagome turned to watch the snow covered house fade from view and saw a tall, silvery-haired hanyou standing in the bedroom window...

Alone.


“I thought the agreement was that you would kill him,” Hojo growled, infuriated enough to ignore his fear.

Maroon eyes, the color of drying blood, narrowed. “The hanyou will destroy himself,” came the reply, icy with warning.

“I want him dead!”

“You forget your place! Do not think to order me around, human.”

Hojo ignored the warning tone, sneered at the inky haired man before him whose bandages had been removed. In their place was pale skin the color of the recently deceased. “Are you too afraid to get your hands dirty?”

A cruel smile distorted an otherwise perfect face. “No. But why should I? That is what I have you and your family for.” There was a chilly silence. “Besides, what do you care? You have what you want.”

Hojo took a deep, calming breath that came out in a visible cloud of mist. “You're right,” he said.

“I, however, am still waiting for you to finish your end of the bargain. Have you located the Shikon no Tama?”

“Yes. The girl... the girl is the miko. She carries it with her always,” Hojo said.

“You will bring it to me before the next cycle of the moon,” was the order.

“I-”

“You will. Otherwise, our bargain becomes null and void and the default price will be the rest of your soul.” Small tremors began to run through Hojo as his fear finally caught up with him, finally found purchase in his mind. The man in the white fur cloak before him shook his head in disgust. “Bring me the jewel... and the miko with it...”


Pacing seemed to be the only thing that kept him occupied. He had already barred the door, the windows and any other exit from the apartment. He mostly felt like demolishing everything around him, but everything in the place had been destroyed already.

Your mate is coming.

“She isn't my fuckin' mate!”

She is the one you chose.

“I didn't choose her!”

You marked her.

“I thought she was Kagome!”

You knew.

“I didn't!”

Fire exploded in his knuckles, up through his hand and arm as his fist went through the wall. He groaned, not from the pain, but from the voice that wouldn't leave him be. He clutched his head and sank down to the floor, rocking back and forth, trying to will the noise in his head away.

It's quite possible that you're going crazy.

“I'm not crazy,” he whispered.

Are you sure?

Inuyasha crawled across the living room, found a baggie full of white powder among the stuffing from the couch that still littered the floor. There wasn't much left in the bag, but it would do.

Only for a while... It will only numb you long enough so you don't realize it isn't her.

A sharp knock came from the door.

“That's long enough,” Inuyasha growled.


“I have a surprise for you.”

Kagome looked up from the book she was reading, the words that had just been spoken echoing in her head. Instead of shining gold, she met dull, muddy brown eyes and was surprised that the pang of sadness that shot across her heart like lightening didn't hurt as much as it used to.

“What is it, Akitoki-san?” she asked, turning back to her book.

She missed his frown at her formalness. “There's something I want to show you,” he said.

Kagome sighed. “Hojo, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I just want” him “everything to go back to normal.” She attempted a smile. “It's not like I'm the first girl in the world to have her heart broken.”

There was a flash of something in Hojo's eyes and, as he sat down next to her, as he covered her hand with his own, he was suddenly the same person that she had grown up with. “I know, Kagome. But you're my friend -used to be my very good friend- and I can't stand to see you like this.” He paused and smiled -a real smile, Kagome noted, that reached his eyes and warmed them. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on, Kag-chan, let's go do something to take your mind off of it.” He peered at the book she was holding. “There's no way that is helping,” he said.

She looked down at the page she had been reading. The main character was out for revenge and the ways he managed to get it were... inspiring. She chuckled and put the book down.

“You're right, Hojo. It isn't.”

He took her hand and pulled her from the couch, pausing only long enough to let her pull on a light jacket and slip on her shoes. The winter that had been so vicious had slowly loosened its grasp and had melted away into a gentle spring. Kagome took a deep breath before climbing into Hojo's car, smiling as the clean, fresh air filled her lungs.

I need to get out, she told herself. I need to remind myself that I am still alive. Those longs nights of brooding this winter did nothing to help me. She half listened to Hojo as he idly talked, and he seemed not to mind that her only response was a nod every once in awhile. It's almost time for the Hanami Festival again... It's been a year since I've been out like this... a year. She took another deep breath and refused to delve back into the memories.

Instead, she turned her attention to Hojo. They chatted about their times together in school, about when they were kids, and Kagome decided that she had been unfair to him. He hadn't really changed that much, she realized, as he reminded her of an embarrassingly funny incident involving a set of stairs and a yellow backpack that she used to stuff full. As she laughed, she felt something within her loosen, let go, and she settled farther back into her seat, for the moment completely content.

“Here we are.”

Kagome looked out the window and found herself gazing into a thick forest. The sun barely penetrated the deep shadows, the breeze only touched the tops of the trees, and Kagome felt a cold shiver of unease run through her. She shook it off, determined to have a good day.

“What is this place?” she asked, climbing out of the car and looking around. There didn't seem to be anything for miles and she had no idea where they were.

“It's a surprise,” Hojo said, walking into the forest and letting the trees envelope him. He stopped when Kagome hesitated, turning back and smiling at her. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for her to follow. “You're going to love it.”

Kagome looked down the road the way they had come again, eyed Hojo and the forest, took a deep breath and followed him.

It seemed more like dusk in the forest, even though Kagome knew it was still morning. The canopy of leaves overhead stubbornly refused to let any light reach the ground, yet there was still an abundance of growth on the forest floor. Vines reached out to grip at Kagome's ankles, thorns plucked at her sleeves as though the forest was reluctant to let her through... or let her leave.

When she stumbled into the clearing behind Hojo, she blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust to the sudden bright light. At the far end stood a house that looked like it had been there for hundreds of years. The bare wood on the columns looked weathered and worn, the front door screen yellowed by the sun. The whole house seemed to sag with weariness, like an old man to whom the years had been unkind.

“How old is this place?” Kagome asked, quietly, for some reason thinking that if she spoke to loud her voice would alert something to her presence.

Hojo just shrugged as he walked toward the house. “I don't know,” he said. “I found it when I was hiking one day.”

Kagome paused just at the entrance of the house, looking up at the old columns and the tired looking wood of the roof that they held up. She took a step back. “I'm not sure it's a good idea to go in there, Hojo,” she said, unease starting to make the hairs on her arms stand on end.

Hojo was struggling to get the door open and stopped to give her a puzzled look. “Why not, Kag-chan?”

“I... don't know,” she said, shaking her head. “I just don't have a good feeling about this place.” She took another step back. Dread started to curl in her stomach and she could feel the jewel at her throat start to grow cold despite its contact with her skin. “I think we should go.”

She had nearly reached the edge of the forest when she ran into something solid. Her heart tried to make its escape out of her throat, strangling her terrified cry. She spun around, stumbling backward, wide yes looking up into a twisted mockery of a baboon's face.

“Hojo,” she managed to choke out.

She heard Hojo walking up behind her and a part of her realized that he wasn't exactly rushing to her rescue. When she looked up at him, she realized that the cold flatness she had seen in his eyes for so long was back.

He gave her a tight grin. “This is a friend of mine,” he said, nodding in the direction of the figure draped in white fur and the baboon mask. “I've told him all about you and he's been very eager to meet you.”

Kagome's mouth went dry with fear and the sound of her heart racing nearly deafened her.

“It's so nice that we can finally meet face to face, little miko.”

The icy voice cut sharply through the pounding in her ears, seemed to leech the warmth from the air around Kagome.

“I can hear your heart running like a frightened rabbit's. It's good that you are afraid of me.” He made a small gesture. “I don't expect you to run from me, but just in case.”

Kagome could only stare, stood immobile as Hojo moved behind her and held her arms. When he pushed her wrists up into the middle of her back, forcing her to arch, when the pain shot through her shoulders, then her body and mind decided to act together. She tired to yank away from Hojo, but it was like being bound in steel.

“What do you want from me?” she asked. “Who are you?”

The baboon mask was pushed back to reveal sharply delicate features that were almost feminine and intense maroon eyes. Inky black hair fell around his shoulders and Kagome shuddered in Hojo's grip as the man smiled. She desperately tired to avoid his touch as he reached out toward her, but Hojo pushed her arms further up her back, causing fire to shoot through her shoulders and a whimper of pain to escape her lips. When the man's fingers brushed along her throat, Kagome shivered uncontrollably at the cold touch. He hooked a finger under the silver chain around her neck and the jewel attached to it flared and sparked angrily in his fingers.

“This is what I want,” he said, softly, grasping the Shikon no Tama and yanking.

The silver chain snapped and, with it, something felt like it was being ripped from inside Kagome. She cried out in agony, the pain blinding her so that she couldn't see the amused smile on the red-eyed man's face.

“My name is Naraku,” he said, bending down to whisper in her ear. “I am the one who will destroy everything you hold dear.”

She could barely hear him over the blood roaring in her ears, around the pain that was shooting through her body.

“She's useless... dump her...”

She was aware of being thrown over a hard shoulder, of the uncomfortable way the bone jutted into her stomach, before the shadows of the forest reached out eagerly to claim her.


He had been stalking her for weeks now, some part of him unable and unwilling to let go, to give up hope that everything could be put right again. He had even gone so far as to talk to his half-brother about it. Sesshomaru had been surprisingly sympathetic -or as close to it as the youkai lord could come- which had confused Inuyasha until his brother had introduced him to his fiancé... who just happened to be human.

Any other time, Inuyasha would have taunted Sesshomaru mercilessly about his choice of a mate. But knowing that everyone around him seemed to be able to fall in love as easily as breathing made his chest constrict painfully, made regret and self-loathing settle somewhere in his stomach bringing with it the constant feeling of nausea.

“There is nothing to be done, Inuyasha,” Sesshomaru had told him. “Inu-youkai mate for life, you know that.”

Inuyasha's hands seemed to constantly be in fists anymore. He felt his claws sink into the flesh of his palms, unclenched his fingers before he bled all over his brother's expensive looking couch.

“Nothing?” he asked. “What if I killed her?”

Sesshomaru shook his head. “Your youkai will not allow it now,” he said, calmly. “And, even if you managed to try it on a night that you are human, I cannot guarantee that you would be successful. Killing her may only kill you.”

Inuyasha had left with healing wounds in the shape of triangles on his palms and a jaw sore from grinding his teeth in frustration.

He had been watching Kagome ever since. She spent most of her time by herself and, every once in awhile, a stray breeze would bring the scent of her sorrow to him. He watched as Sango and Miroku came by to visit her, would catch a glimpse of her half-hearted attempts to smile, and could see the melancholy in her eyes as she watched the couple leave. The knowledge that he had been the one to make her into this dull, lifeless mockery of the woman he knew she was only served to sink him farther into the mire of his misery.

He was surprised to see Akitoki-san at her house one warm spring morning, was even more amazed to see them leave Kagome's house together. She never went anywhere anymore, unless it was at night, and then only to stand just outside her front door and stare up at the stars, as though the twinkling lights that pierced through the velvety sky would bring her some kind of answer to a wish. When she climbed into Hojo's car and they drove away, the scowl that now never seemed to leave Inuyasha's face deepened.

A sudden, intense stab of foreboding nearly made him lose his breath. He saw white tiles with flecks of blue, heard the hum of iridescent lights and of chrome machines working tirelessly to save a life that was already lost. He could see a face whose cheeks and eyes had sunk in, pristinely white sheets, a hand and arm that were whiter still. He caught a glimpse of her pulse under the papery skin of her throat as it fluttered once, like a butterfly frantically beating its way through a sharp gust, and then went still.

He placed a hand to his chest, just over his heart, just at the spot where Kikyou's name was inscribed in his flesh. But it wasn't this that provoked the gesture; it was the small burn mark just next to the Kanji that had appeared after he had seen Kagome at Yasumidokoro, when she had been so full of righteous fury that her miko powers had lashed out at him.

Inuyasha took note of the direction that the Akitoki man and Kagome were going as he made his way over rooftops and through trees toward his half-brother's house. When he finally lost sight of them, he pushed off a branch, feeling the muscles in his legs protest from the unusual amount of excursion he had been placing them under. He landed in front of Sesshomaru's house in a swirl of dust, his nose twitching in irritation as his strides quickly ate up the distance to the front door. Having gone beyond the need to be remotely civil or polite, Inuyasha pushed through the door, calling out Sesshomaru's name as he made his way into the study.

He was yanking one of two old swords from the wall, its sheath rotting with age, the leather that was wrapped around its hilt well worn, as Sesshomaru walked in.

“What are you doing, Inuyasha?” the elder Takahashi asked.

“She's left with Akitoki-san,” he grunted, pulling on the hilt of the sword and exposing an inch of rusty steel.

“So?”

“So, I don't trust him... or where they're going.”

“She does not want you anymore, Inuyasha. And you cannot have her.”

It was the truth, stripped of all niceties and presented to him like a rotting entrée on a plate of silver.

Inuyasha bared a fang as he snarled, “We protect the bitches of the pack at any cost.” He frowned down at the sword in his hand. “I need you to do me a favor, need you to make me a promise, Sess.”

Sesshomaru's face lost any expression that it may have had and he eyed his younger brother. “What?”

A muscle in Inuyasha's jaw twitched. “If I die, I want you to leave me dead.”


The first thing she was consciously aware of was being uncomfortably cold. She opened her eyes to look up through a thick canopy of leaves that, every once in awhile, moved just enough so that cheerless sunlight could stab through. She faintly heard leaves rustling before she realized she was the cause. Everything seemed oddly muted, as though she was surrounded by thick, transparent walls. She managed to get her elbows underneath herself, her groan of pain at the stiffness of her muscles seeming to come from someone far away from her. As she got unsteady legs under her and straightened, a sharp, slicing pain tore through her side, forcing her to her knees. She rested part of her weight on her hands as she sucked in air that had been stolen from her with the excruciating sensation.

The next time she attempted to stand, she was ready for the ache in her side and merely winced and clutched a hand to the sore spot. She carefully lifted her shirt, looking for the source of the pain and was groggily confused when her eyes saw only pale, smooth flesh.

Kagome put a hand to her head and looked around. She couldn't exactly remember where she was, couldn't really remember what had happened to her. She seemed to be in a thick wood, could vaguely recall feelings of terror and pain. Her legs were still a little unsure if they wanted to support her weight as she pushed into the woods, trying to find a road, a landmark, anything that would tell her where she was.

The cotton that seemed to be stuffed in her ears was suddenly gone and Kagome heard a loud crash, the sound of splintering wood, and an outraged scream. She stumbled through the dense foliage and came to an abrupt halt when she came to the clearing, her mind taking a moment to register the scene before her.

Inuyasha stood between herself and Naraku, a large curved sword in his hands. His back was to her and Naraku saw her first, a cruel smile curving his lips. It looked as though a fierce tornado had raged through the clearing. Pieces of wood were scattered everywhere from felled trees and the house that was now in ruins. She took a step forward, tripped over a thick branch and fell to her knees. She winced as her wrist caught her weight at a painfully awkward angle and looked over her shoulder.

It hadn't been a branch... it was Hojo-san , sprawled out on the green grass that was darkened with his blood, his eyes staring lifelessly at her, an expression of horror froze on his blood-splattered face. Kagome sucked in a breath and tried to choke down the whimper and the bile that was rising in her throat as she scrambled away from the body.

“Ah, the little miko is here,” Kagome heard Naraku say. “Just like old times, isn't it Inuyasha?”

It broke Inuyasha's concentration. He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes wide.

“Kagome, get the hell outta here!” he yelled.

The actual event happened so fast that, at first, Kagome wasn't even sure what she had seen. At first, all she could see was the inu-hanyou that she loved with every fiber of her being standing before her, looking at her with fierce determination sparking from his burning golden eyes.

“No!”

She watched as Inuyasha stood still, his hand coming to his throat, surprised confusion registering on his face as the viscous red liquid slipped through his fingers. Everything was motionless for an instant, frozen like a grisly photograph. Kagome was rooted to where she stood, looking at the vindictively pleased smile of Naraku's face.

Inuyasha stumbled back, fell to the ground with a hard thud, and the spell was broken. Kagome found that she could move, found that she was running across the flat expanse of grass, was skidding to her knees at Inuyasha's side, pressing her hands on top of his, trying desperately, through her tears, to stop the bleeding.

“You can't do this to me!” she screamed at him. The blood spilled through her fingers like red, sticky tears, made tracks along the backs of her hands and wrists. “You can't leave me alone like this!”

Dull amber eyes looked up at her as though through a thick fog. His gaze wavered, went out of focus. Inuyasha untangled his hand from hers, reached up to stroke her face. She could feel the heat of his blood on her cheek, could smell the metallic tang in the air. The scent crawled down her throat, it and the tears threatening to choke her.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha whispered, his voice raw, nearly inaudible. She could see the pain in his eyes, could see how much it was costing him to speak. “You have to leave... Sesshomaru...”

“Shh! Don't talk! Sesshomaru will be here soon.” She looked frantically around for the tall youkai lord. “Soon,” she repeated, trying to convince herself.

“Kagome... Never forget...” Kagome looked down at him. His eyes were squeezed shut and she saw a tear track through the blood and dirt on his face, exposing golden skin that was becoming paler by the second. “Never forget... that I... love you.”

“Stop! Stop talking, Yasha,” Kagome said. “I love you too, but please, please, just stop talking.”

A small, sad smile touched the edges of Inuyasha's mouth. “Never forget...”

She felt it, that last expulsion of breath, and simply stared at him, wide-eyed, her brain acting as though it couldn't possibly comprehend what was happening. The blood stopped flowing between her fingers, golden eyes stared vacantly up at the too blue sky.

“No,” Kagome whispered.

She pulled her hands away from his throat, couldn't take her eyes from his face. Surely, surely he would blink, would smile up at her, would take her in his arms and tell her that everything was okay, that they were going home... that the past months had been nothing more than a nightmare.

A dark, sinister chuckle sprouted from Naraku's throat like a diseased flower. “It seems the little half-breed wasn't strong enough,” he said. Kagome still stared, still knelt in the lush green grass ignoring the man behind her. “It's over, little miko. He failed, you failed, there's nothing you can do.”

Kagome looked up, saw a radiant figure in billowing white robes blocking the sun, moving toward her. He stood over her, and Kagome was surprised to see sorrow etching lines in his face. She thought he looked like a mourning angel, felt as though she was suddenly before some great god, kneeling at his feet, asking for his benevolence; except now she was positive that angels and gods didn't exist.

“Please, you have to help him,” Kagome said, her voice coming out choked as she blinked up into the sun.

Sesshomaru crouched down beside her, ran his eyes over his half-brother, ran a clawed finger through hair that had once been as silvery-white as his own. The youkai lord shook his head. “What have you done, Inuyasha?” he asked, softly.

“Please, Sesshomaru.” Kagome reached out a pleading hand, gripping his white sleeve, leaving bloody handprints streaking down it. “Save him.”

Sesshomaru shook his head. “I cannot.”

“Cannot? Or will now?” Kagome asked, nearly screaming.

Grief so completely consumed Kagome that she missed the red that started to fill Sesshomaru's golden eyes when he turned a stricken look on her.

She was lost. The grassy plain faded away, Sesshomaru disappeared. Naraku's cry of triumph behind her vanished into a black void. The bloody, tattered remains of the inu-hanyou were all that she could see. The red reached out to her like the hands of a lover, enfolding her in its grasp. It edged into her vision, consumed her. With the sense of loss came the slight feeling of betrayal and, more powerful than anything, rage.

“No.” The word may not have ever left her lips. She couldn't hear past the roaring in her ears.

Something -a sound, a movement- pierced through, made Kagome look up, twist to look over her shoulder. Naraku stood there, the white fur of his cloak encasing him, the baboon mask thrown back. His red eyes glittered with cruelty; a malicious smile touched his lips.

“You,” Kagome whispered. She rose to her feet, would have reeled forward if it weren't for something, for a brief moment, steadying her. She looked to see Sesshomaru rubbing his hand on his leg as though he had been burned. He was backing slowly away from her, an odd look on his face.

“Kagome,” he said. “Kagome, you need to calm down. We will finish this another time.”

“You should listen to him, girl.”

Kagome's head snapped around, her gaze locking once again with Naraku's.

“You,” she whispered again.

Naraku's smile widened. “Yes, me,” he said, harshly. “You will always remember me, won't you? I was the one who took your precious jewel, who corrupted it, who turned it against you. I used it to kill Inuyasha.” He paused, took a few steps closer to her. “Tell me, when I slit his throat, did you see the expression on his face?” A mad laugh broke from him. “What did it feel like to have his life pouring out between your fingers? What did it feel like to know that, if you had only done one thing better, if you had only been able to keep a hold of the Shikon no Tama, that none of this would have happened, that you would have been able to save him? You do know that you are to blame, don't you? That you, ultimately, killed him as surely as if you had struck the blow yourself?” He smiled at her again. “I can see what you want to do to me in your eyes. I can feel your hatred, know that you want to pick up the famous Tetsusaiga and run me through. Go ahead, little girl, pick up the sword. It won't make anything better. You are too weak.”

She was suddenly before him, pressing up against him. She interlaced her fingers with his, the Shikon jewel pressing into her palm, and she could feel the darkness in it wrap around her hand, crawl up her arm like a decaying vine.

Naraku's smile faltered, vanished. Kagome could faintly hear Sesshomaru behind her, knew suddenly, as though she was connected to the very earth itself, that the youkai lord was running -away. She remotely found that odd. Sesshomaru was probably the one person that could defeat Naraku and yet... and yet... she was lost again, her mind reluctant to fulfill such mundane, earthly musings. The maroon eyes that were now locked with hers were her whole world. They weren't windows to the soul. Whoever had said that had not taken into account that sometimes there was no soul behind the eyes to see. In Naraku's case, there were openings into... nothingness.

“You,” she whispered a third time.

She dug her fingernails into the back of his hand in an unbreakable grip. Naraku's eyes widened and Kagome jerked him forward, gripped the back of his head with her free hand, and pulled his face closer to hers.

“What does it look like to look into the eyes of the human that will kill you?” she whispered.

It started as an almost uncomfortable tingling sensation in the palm of her hand, a buzzing like bees underneath her skin. It ran through her veins, became louder, became warmer, was liquid fire running through her. It licked out her fingertips, out of her eyes and she was becoming blind. The once too blue afternoon sky overhead became the purplish-pink of sunset casting its colors on everything around them.

She was nothing more than a vessel that was rapidly filling. It devoured her until she forgot where she was, what she was doing... who she was. When it finally burst forth from her, it snapped her head back, made her cry out in agony. She was vaguely aware of Naraku's cry of terror, of him struggling in her grip. The feeling of decay that had reached out to her from the jewel was being consumed by the pure energy that was pouring out of her, that had become her. When the last dark shadow was gone, the energy, having no where else to go, reached out for more like a ravenously questing carnivore. It found Naraku, licked non-existent lips at the darkness that swelled in him like a deep pool and reached out to him, consumed him.

Like a hunting dog, it sniffed around for more... and found the corpse of an inu-hanyou. A profound sadness swept along the currents, filled the clearing with a keening that could be heard for miles.

Kagome found herself next to Inuyasha again, her hands covering her face as she sobbed. The nightmare was over, the odd, malevolent feeling that had been so thick around them for the past six months that she could almost taste it was no longer in the air.

All it had taken was the loss of an old friend and a new love.

She futilely tried to stop her tears, looked down to see the pink jewel lying in the grass at her feet. She picked it up, glaring at it, hating it because it was the cause of all of this.

“You can change the patterns of fate.”

The voice was no more than a whisper on the breeze, a sigh against her ears. Kagome felt herself suddenly wrapped in insubstantial, warm arms and sighed. She knew, as though it was a memory from inside of her, that the very spirit of the jewel had made herself present.

“How?” she asked.

“A wish is all it takes. But be careful...”

“A wish...”

Kagome looked down at the pink jewel that glittered and sparked in the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes, closed her fingers around the jewel...

And wished.





A/N: Uh-oh... that sure is the end of the story... and I sure didn't warn anyone about that main character death, huh? Ah well, like I said, you'll either like it or you'll hate it. My roommate was thoroughly disgruntled by the ending of this story, but I'm very fond of it. She wants me to write an epilogue but I keep telling her no... and I probably won't ^_^
A few additional notes:
The book that Inuyasha reads from is The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by A.N. Roquelaure (aka Anne Rice). Good erotica, but with a bit too much spanking for my tastes ^_^ If you are at all curious about the book that Kagome was reading when Hojo talks to her, it is intended to be The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas... a fantastic book if you can get past the first few chapters and the flowery language. One other thing is that somewhere, at some point, I saw an image/drawing of Inuyasha with the youkai mating mark on his chest with (I believe) Kagome's name in Kanji. Unfortunately, I've completely forgotten where I saw it, but I didn't want anyone to think that I had stolen the idea. I would give credit for it, I just can't remember where the credit is due.
I think that's it. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns that you would like me to address, be sure to leave your email in your review or feel free to email me directly or IM me (both of which can be found on my author's page) and I will try to get back to you as soon as I can.
Thanks to everyone that reviewed! I really appreciate all the words of encouragement!