InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Victory Suite ❯ Victory's Nightmare ( Chapter 1 )

Author's Note: “Victory's Nightmare” is a one-shot story, but it's also the firstmovement of the three-part symphony, “Victory Suite.” Disclaimer: Of course, I don't have any claim on InuYashaor any of these characters - except in my dreams and nightmares- they are the property of R. Takahashi and shall always remain hers.

 

 

Victory's Nightmare

 

 

In the chilled light of victory's dawning

tendril ties of loss slither

forth to bind the strong, yoking them,

uncertain, to the wheel of death,

its merciless turn pulling them down.

Yanked by fear, seduced by despair, they waver.

Their triumph becomes hope in the dark.

 

 

“I'm going to fucking kill you, InuYasha…”

 

InuYasha's pain swam aside for a moment, pushed away by a killer's icy voice and a noxious tongue snaking up his neck and into his human ear. He immediately recoiled and brought his hand to Tetsusaiga's hilt, grasping at air. Panic rose in him as it did every time this nightmare came.

 

“Fuck… ing… kill… you.” Jakotsu's voice oozed from his slimy heart, dripping with a twisted desire for blood, and something else, something InuYasha feared even as his body responded to it, battling vulnerability with an unfamiliar aggression.

 

You're dead, InuYasha tried but failed to croak out the incantation that always banished this particular vision back to his subconscious, die already! He struggled to wake, believing this a nightmare but unable to open his eyes or move his limbs. He was pinned, something holding him down like a dead weight over his left arm. Pain shot from his shoulder up into his head, sending dizzy waves of nausea into his throat and threatening to black him out into sleep once again. Unlike the other times this nightmare had come upon him, Jakotsu did not recede into darkness, but kept his hot breath heaving onto InuYasha's neck, his sharp blade biting the skin below his victim's fleshy ear. With a groaning exhale, Jakotsu pushed his weapon in only deep enough to draw out the sting of blood, and as he pulled it down the length of InuYasha's naked body bursts of pain spilled through his already tortured muscles. When the knife tip reached InuYasha's groin, Jakotsu lifted it from his skin and purred something inaudible and excited into his ear.

 

Just as the dark vision reached down without the knife in its hands, groping in the slick blood and sending shoots of adrenaline and panic into his helpless victim, InuYasha managed to say out loud, “Die already!”

 

Jakotsu did recede this time, drifting back into darkness, but even as InuYasha woke to the half-light of dawn he felt the horror of the nightmare still within him, as though a door to a dark place had been opened but not fully closed. Checking that his human form had also receded into dream, the hanyou reassured himself with a pinch of his claws against his palm and his fangs against his tongue. If only Tetsusaiga were really there.

 

Unwelcome memory returned as he felt Miroku, the almost dead weight on his arm, shift in fevered sleep under the blanket of moss that protected them from the winter's storm. The movement pushed hot daggers into InuYasha's eyes, which opened without focusing. Remembering Kagome's warnings about concussions, InuYasha fought his body's instinctive panic at not being able to see or smell with his normal acuteness, and he struggled to gain a fix on his world through his still-functioning senses of hearing and touch. His nose brought him confused sensations, and though he detected the shouki and blood bathing them both, he could not discern whom the blood belonged to originally. It didn't matter; he knew it to be everyone's. The smell roiled his stomach again.

 

His body ached and he resigned himself to pain whether he moved or stayed still. He shifted his arm from under his friend, gasping at the hot jolts of muscular anguish bursting in his limbs and coursing through his veins into his head. Miroku groaned in unconscious pain and InuYasha had the presence of mind to be glad that the houshi hadn't died in the night. Free of the weight, and breathing through the agony and nausea that came over him when he moved, InuYasha backed out of the moss into the snow drift that had formed around them, closing Miroku back up to what warmth he could leave behind.

 

The cold felt good against his burning skin as he sat in the snow drifted glade, but the white hurt his eyes and he had to close them, letting them adjust slowly. Unmoving, waiting for the pain behind his lids to recede, he brooded on their victory. A slow seething anger overcame him, born from the habit of hating Naraku. Rather than handing them a clean victory, the bastard had forced them into horrible choices in order to defeat him, ensuring that more death became the price of life. Kikyou, Kohaku and Kouga all lay somewhere under the snow, lifeless. Dead. As this memory found him, an uncomfortable shift in the landscape occurred behind his closed eyes. They were there, within arms reach. The dead were living here in this frozen place with him. And Miroku, on the verge of death, was here too. Maybe they were all dead and he was just too stubborn to realize it. He smiled weakly at the irony of this thought even as it chilled him.

 

He'd know he were alive if Kagome were there with him, but she was far away from him now. His thoughts became caught between the dead and the living again. Kikyou had chosen to move on to the next world, helping bring down Naraku in her own way and accepting his choice to save Kagome. Watching Kikyou fall beneath Naraku's poisonous assault, even as he'd whisked Kagome out of its path, had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. He'd chosen life for himself, but if Kagome did not live, would he come to regret that choice? The silence of the snow-drifted forest was like the world holding its breath with him… waiting for the veil to be lifted and the living to come forth.

 

Gods, he missed Kagome. The last time he'd had a concussion, she'd been his eyes and his guide through the healing process, her warm hands moving him through the world and her warm heart talking him through the fears. Now he had only his worry for her left to him, her bloody body carried off on Kilala with the completed jewel tucked to her weakly beating heart. She was unconscious when he'd last touched her, unable to see her face and unable to smell her. His heart ached at the memory of her limp fingers slipping from his when Kilala left the ground. As he sat with hollow fear in his heart, he realized that he was close to losing everything and the emptiness that filled him was unbearable. A tear formed in his closed eyes, the pain the cold and the dread coming together to force it on him. Hurry, Sango. Hurry for me.

 

The weak prayer was all he had to offer and InuYasha made himself open his eyes. Like a wheel turning, he moved on to his next task and set about trying to do what he could to ensure their survival now that the storm had stopped. Groaning, he placed his hands on his knees and began to stand, but his stomach lurched violently in a sickening motion and the world whipped around him. Before he knew it he saw the white sky dancing between the treetops as he slammed down on his back. He blinked at the small snowflakes wandering into his eyes and tried to calm the surging in his stomach while slowly taking in the fact that he'd lost his balance. He lost the fight and turned to retch into the snow, bile being the only thing left to lose.

 

It took him the better part of the morning to learn to move without falling over. Periodically, he would stop to fight the nauseating hitches in his stomach as he forced his tormented body to keep going, battling despair and despondency with every step. The pain in his shoulder and head became his savior, a constant burn around which he could center himself, a purpose to make him keep propelling himself forward with grim determination. Exploring the area by touch more than sight or smell, he came upon a large blackness which turned out to be a shallow cave, apparently abandoned by a large beast or youkai.

 

Throughout the day he used a crude bark sled to drag Miroku, his shouki stained body still huddled under the moss blanket, and some firewood to the cave where he started a fire. Through the passing hours, he rested frequently and moved slowly, struggling to maintain his orientation. At one point, he was thankful to notice some of his eyesight returning, or perhaps he was just getting used to seeing so poorly. Often, he stopped to press small amounts of snow into the fevered houshi's mouth, holding his jaw closed to let it melt into water, the little he could do to keep the man alive.

 

Through the long hours of pain and effort, InuYasha tried not to think about how precarious their situation was. Miroku was horribly injured, having taken a shouki tentacle to the hip, which poured more of the venomous substance into his already poisoned body. With Naraku's death his kazaana had almost healed, but his internal shouki wounds, including the dark stain on his hand and around his heart, remained. Almost healed, but not quite. This stain worried InuYasha more than anything besides Kagome's unknown fate. If Naraku was completely dead, wouldn't the kazaana be gone? Or had Miroku taken so much of the monster's shouki into himself that he could no longer fully heal?

 

Kikyou's dying words had assured InuYasha that Naraku was now in the jewel and that she was going to join him there, sealing him along with Midoriko and her ancient nemesis. She had also warned him that Kagome would need his help to heal and told him not to leave her side. “She needs your love, InuYasha. Only something so strong as that will call her back.” Kikyou had forgiven him, and then she was gone. Remembering how she had sagged into his arms as the glowing souls abandoned her earthy form, he looked sullenly into the grey light of the forest, exhausted, hollow and full of sorrow.

 

Kikyou … in the end I couldn't help you … and now I can't help Kagome either.

 

Helpless anger rose up in him again only to be sucked weakly into the emptiness he felt inside, a deep emptiness that seeped out to meet the freezing air he breathed into his lungs and chilled him to the bone. What had he done, sending Kagome off with Sango? Shouldn't he have gone too? Then he remembered Sango's warning that without his balance, he wouldn't be able to keep himself, much less Kagome, from falling off Kilala as they flew. His stomach churned at the thought of flying right now. But still, he'd let Kagome go when she needed him most. The cold settled in his heart.

 

+++++++++

 

At the early signs of dusk, he admitted to himself that Sango would not return this day and they would have to survive another night in the cold. He hoped fervently that Kagome had not taken a turn for the worse, and that Sango was delayed simply because the youkai slayer had found Toutousai and that he was taking the time to repair Tetsusaiga. His mind moving slowly, InuYasha realized that she would return in the morning to the tree where she had left them and another snow storm might cover their tracks. Since he wasn't sure they had enough firewood to last the night anyway, he hauled his weakened body back out into the snow, leaving a firewood trail back to where he had started that morning. He noticed with some satisfaction that his balance was slightly more reliable and he keh'd quietly with the irony of his thought, that he should feel so glad for such pathetic control over his limbs. Along the way, thoughts of the night ahead haunted him, how many more nightmares lay in wait for him tonight? He often dreamed of Naraku when he was angry, but he rarely dreamed of Jakotsu. Jakotsu had been the only nemesis to make him feel such primitive fear, a penetrating fear that went to the very core of him, to the place where the youkai in him lived.

 

Trying unsuccessfully to shake off his dark thoughts, InuYasha arrived at the place of their previous night's rest, not far from the final battle site. He didn't have enough strength to fell a tree, but he managed to find a large limb he could turn into a pointer on the ground. It was partially buried in the snow, and he had to dig down under it to free it from its frozen prison. He had long ago lost the ability to feel in his fingers or his toes, but his hand encountered something he recognized was not the snow or the limb. It was soft, giving under the pressure of his grip. Willing his fingers to squeeze, he lifted it up from where it hid.

 

About two feet wide and several inches thick, the mass felt fleshy and smelled noxious with shouki. He dropped it quickly, feeling the adrenaline shoot painfully into his pounding head. It had to be a piece of Naraku. A piece he and Sango had missed when they'd used Kagome's last arrow to purify every piece they could find in the falling snow once the monster was dead.

 

Standing still in the rapidly approaching dark he was not sure what to do. Kagome's arrow was buried somewhere under the snow, he was dizzy with exertion, Miroku lay near death and now this. He decided to leave it where it lay; Sango could help him find the arrow in the morning. Unnerved, he headed back to the cave, collecting the firewood as he went, hoping it was enough to get them through to morning.

 

++++++++++

 

Miroku was groaning under the remains of the moss blanket when he returned. After stoking the fire, InuYasha moved to the houshi's side, feeling his neck to assess the strength of his heartbeat. His heart was slow, but what worried the hanyou more was that he felt so little warmth from the man's skin close to his heart. It did not surprise him that Miroku's hands and feet were frigid, but for his chest and neck to be cold was not good. It meant he was losing the battle against the cold. Knowing that his walk back with the firewood had circulated his own blood again, InuYasha did the only thing he could to try and warm the houshi, the same thing he'd done last night; he lay down behind him, his back to the cave wall with his Fire Rat-covered arm draped over the houshi's chest and the remains of the moss blanket over them both.

 

InuYasha worried as Miroku continued to shiver, letting small, sick sounds out as though nightmares were chasing him too. After a time, however, the houshi calmed and when he reached around to feel his heart again, InuYasha was relieved to feel some warmth returning to his body. InuYasha felt the heat growing between them. He was pleased to feel it finally warming his feet, which had taken the brunt of his day's work. The rising temperature grew and made him sleepy. He felt a vague fear of the night ahead, but the warmth lulled him and coaxed him into sleep.

 

He did dream many dreams that night.

 

At some point in the night, in between rising to stoke the fire several times, he came almost awake and felt Kagome's warm form in front of him. He felt the heat of her as he pushed himself against her rear, enjoying this one feeling of vitality in his otherwise shaky body and hoping this meant that some of his strength was returning. Leave it to his damn cock to be the first thing to recover. In the muzzy state of sleep, he let the enjoyment tease him awake, to push away some of the pain he felt everywhere else. Then he remembered something - something he immediately wished he could forget.

 

It was Miroku he'd lain with tonight in the cave, not Kagome. As if on cue, the houshi's voice drifted out from in front of his face.

 

“Well, you can't be too injured …”

 

“Uh-” InuYasha felt his face burn red and he quickly scooted back to give himself a little room from his friend's butt. “I was dreaming.”

 

“Huh,” Miroku was conscious for the first time in almost forty eight hours, which gave InuYasha a sense of relief underneath his embarrassment. He heard the houshi laugh weakly, his voice still foggy, “…wish I could have that dream about now. I feel like shit.”

 

“Keh,” InuYasha said softly, glad Miroku felt well enough to swear. “Sorry.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” Miroku sounded as if he had other things on his mind; as if, given everything they'd been through, this little indiscretion was trivial. “Dreaming and doing are two different things.”

 

“We don't have to talk about this,” InuYasha growled without anger, the blush burning his skin again. Miroku grunted an assent and was quiet for a moment.

 

“Who was in your dream?” Miroku hadn't moved, but his sense of humor was quickly returning. “Just tell me it wasn't me.”

 

“Hardly.” InuYasha paused, knowing he was about to admit something the houshi had wanted to know for a long time, and that it would put them back into the right male-to-male banter they wanted. “It was Kagome.”

 

“Ah.” Understanding infused this simple sound along with a fearful tightening as the memories came back to him, “How is she?”

 

“I don't know,” the worry came back full force as he realized it had also been about forty eight hours since he'd last seen Kagome alive. He gulped and his voice constricted making it hard to complete his answer. “She was unconscious and bleeding ...” She's either getting better - or dead - by now, these words he couldn't say out loud.

 

“And Sango?” Miroku's voice was tense. InuYasha remembered he'd been unconscious before the battle ended.

 

“She's fine, better than any of us.” InuYasha tried to make his words ring true to calm Miroku's fears. “She kicked ass, Miroku. Kagome and I couldn't have done it without her - or you. She's taken Kagome to the village …”

 

“Good.” Miroku sounded relieved and proud of his slayer. After a moment, he said quietly, “I need to see her again, before ….”

 

InuYasha felt he knew what Miroku left unsaid, before I die. He wished he had comforting words, but he didn't. “Is it painful?”

 

“Yeah.” Miroku sounded a little frightened, “Inside and out.” His robes rustled and InuYasha saw him raise his hand to his face, moving the protective cloth aside to reveal the purple stain of shouki. “Damn it!” he said.

 

“It's been there the whole time.” InuYasha knew the houshi was tamping down fear so he said the only thing he could think of that might help him. “I've been watching it though, and it hasn't gotten any bigger.”

 

“Thanks,” Miroku didn't sound very relieved. InuYasha rose to tend the fire again. Miroku saw him move unsteadily, and seemed to realize for the first time that his companion had not left the battle unscathed. “Are you okay, InuYasha?”

 

“Keh!” InuYasha tried to sound more confident than he felt as he briefly steadied himself against the cave wall. “I'm pretty beat up, can't trust my balance, can't see real clear.” He felt a wave of nausea suck his stomach up and drop it back down, and though he hated the sickened feeling it gave him, he was aware that this time it was bearable. “Good news is, I don't think I'll throw up on you anymore.” He saw the houshi's eyes widen and pushed out a weak laugh. “Don't worry, I managed to miss you most of the time you were out.” He saw Miroku's mouth working and his dry tongue try unsuccessfully to wet his lips. “You thirsty?” Miroku nodded his head.

 

InuYasha got the houshi some snow to sooth his parched throat, but the icy cold in his mouth caused him to begin shivering again. Miroku gave a faint smile and said between chattering teeth, “If you promise to keep your claws to yourself, I'll let you back in here.”

 

“Keh.” InuYasha said and crawled back under the moss, glad again for the warmth.

 

++++++++++

 

They drifted back to sleep after that and the dreams held off for a while. InuYasha smelled the dawn before its light played across his closed eyelids, and he was awake enough to be thankful that his nose was returning to normal. In his early morning haze, he began to dream again of Kagome, and the predictable hard-on rose once more. He'd moved far enough away from Miroku that he could enjoy it this time and he let the feeling of it wake him up slowly.

 

Unexpectedly, his dream of Kagome began to darken, washing a grey sheen over the morning's sunlight. His warm dream became a nightmare as Kagome morphed into the muscular, effeminate form of Jakotsu. This newly minted Jakotsu did not bend to lick his ear as the others had done, but knelt and carefully placed a sword tip at his throat.

 

“You're dead,” InuYasha said aloud, surprised that the words pushed the sharp tip of the sword more deeply against his skin. “Die already.” He felt Miroku stir in front of him, but the houshi did not speak. Unlike the other nightmares, this one did not end with the magic words uttered. It talked back.

 

“Oh, InuYasha, you wouldn't do that to me, not this time,” Jakotsu's pouty voice was silken smooth, high pitched and deceptively playful. “Not when I've just found myself the perfect little pair, already wrapped up and ready for bed.” A wave of fear ran through InuYasha as he felt the sword push gently into the soft skin of his throat, coaxing out a drop of blood that ran down his neck and under his suikan. This Jakotsu was not a dream, or even a nightmare; he was real. A sharp smell of earth mixed with shouki stung InuYasha's nose, and when he opened his eyes an unclear image of a purple patterned kimono and a scarred face wavered over the sword against his throat, a sword that was hovering inches above Miroku's neck.

 

“You can't be here,” InuYasha growled, “you're dead.” Another drop of blood fell, clinging to the trail of the first.

 

“I told you to kill me when we met last, but you couldn't do it, could you?” Some of InuYasha's fear came into focus, remembering how he'd left the half-dead Jakotsu buried in the rubble of Mt. Hakurei. All this time, that stupid decision not to eliminate the bastard once and for all had haunted him. And his worst fear, the fear of his own stupidity born out of some kind of misplaced compassion, was now holding him at sword point. “You knew we'd meet again, didn't you? All I ever wanted was to have you like this. And here you are, waiting for me.” InuYasha realized his cock was still standing straight up under his hakama pants and the moss blanket. In an instant the full fear of this nightmare was upon him.

 

“But enough of games. We have some decisions to make, you and I.” Jakotsu's voice lost its teasing tone and lowered into a deadly serious register, revealing his true purpose as he began his ritual, twisted planning of murder. “There are so many ways to do it. Should I make you screw your friend while I slice off his fingers and jerk off in his mouth?” He moved his free hand along Miroku's hip and outer thigh. The houshi didn't move. “Or should I kill him first? Then I'd have you all to myself.” His attention was back on InuYasha and his voice became twisted. “I'd like that. I'd like to fuck you until your asshole bleeds and then stab you in the back right when I blow my wad into you.” InuYasha felt a growl beginning in his chest. “I do so like blood,” Jakotsu said absentmindedly as he moved the moss blanket aside and looked down the length of their bodies over the hilt of his sword.

 

“Oh, InuYasha!” Jakotsu's voice had risen to become disconcertingly flirtatious again as his eyes moved to InuYasha's waist. “You have missed me!” He reached out over Miroku and InuYasha felt a stab of fear mixed with anger burst into his heart, “How sweet, you were dreaming of me. Look at this magnificent, hard cock. We shouldn't waste this!” The second before the bastard's hand touched him, InuYasha thrust his arm against the blade, feeling the edge of it slice into his wrist as he pulled its tip across the soft skin of his neck. Jerking his head back, he managed to ensure that it missed the artery. As Jakotsu adjusted his balance, Miroku reached out to grab at his ankle and jerk it so that the monster fell on his back, barely missing the fire.

 

Completely ignoring his pain and his insides' sickening lurch, in a rush of anger and adrenaline InuYasha lunged over Miroku and kicked at Jakotsu's sword arm. His impaired balance and depth perception kept him from making solid contact and he only managed to knock the sword away before having to steady himself by leaning heavily on his bent knees. Before he knew it, the very real specter was grasping for its hilt again. Letting his growl fuel his battle energy, InuYasha fell on his nemesis, pinning him to the ground and reaching for the sword. He managed to grab the weapon just as Jakotsu's fingers wrapped around its hilt, their hands sliding against each other in the blood pumping from InuYasha's arm. InuYasha was still strong enough to prevent him from using the sword, but too weak to do much else until he caught his breath, propping himself on his elbows over his enemy.

 

Underneath him, he heard Jakotsu's playful voice say, “Ahhhhh, InuYasha. What a good idea,” and he felt the hard pressure of Jakotsu's cock rising against his own just as the beast's tongue lapped at the blood on his neck, his lips closing on the slice in the hanyou's throat, sucking at the still oozing wound. InuYasha growled in frustration again, holding off a whole new wave of nausea, but this only had the effect of arousing the monster below him, causing him to writhe and squirm against his captor's weight, obviously exciting himself and creating an uncomfortable amount of friction. Jakotsu's body felt strange, soft and pliable, very unlike a warrior's.

 

“Stop it, asshole!” The remnants of InuYasha's fear were disintegrating in wave upon wave of anger.

 

“That's it.” Jakotsu moaned seductively, “That's exactly what I want.” His free arm, the one not grasping for the sword, moved over InuYasha's rear and up his back to wrap itself in his hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck to groping lips. InuYasha's body, still pumping with adrenaline, responded with a burst of strength.

 

“Enough!” InuYasha brought an elbow down on the beast's face below him on the ground. He yanked his head forward, feeling the sharp sting of hair ripping from his scalp as Jakotsu's fingers loosened only slightly. He took both hands and wrested the sword from Jakotsu's bloody grasp, rolling off him and over the fire. Thanking his father once again for the Fire Rat's protection, he did his best to stand after completing the roll.

 

He managed to get to his feet before Jakotsu could move to attack, but he wasn't stable enough to withstand the awkward body slam that came at him over the fire embers. The bastard was till reaching for his dick! Instinctively, using Jakotsu's sword which he held in his sticky hand, InuYasha swung down on the outstretched arm, careful to keep it far away from his own body. The sword, a delicate thing that felt strange in his grasp, went through Jakotsu's arm as though it were hardly there. Instead of blood, a dark substance that smelled of shouki dripped thickly out of the stump.

 

InuYasha did not take the time to examine this, but kicked at the beast, pressing the sword tip into the ground for balance. Once Jakotsu was on the ground, InuYasha held the sword to his throat.

 

“Any reason I shouldn't kill you right now?” His growl carried pure hatred in its timbre.

 

“Oh, InuYasha,” Jakotsu's pouty expression was back, speaking his name as if he were a pet. “You can try, but it won't make me want you any less.” With these words, Jakotsu reached down to pull his cinched kimono away, exposing a bare leg.

 

Before he could reach for anything else, InuYasha sliced through the strange body, severing Jakotsu's head, smile still intact. Continuing to grasp the sword, he stepped back near the broken fire. The body did not move, did not even give off the shivers of rigor mortis or the burbles of bodily functions coming to a halt. After a few moments, InuYasha saw Miroku trying to sit up and went to help him, keeping the sword close at hand. Then he built up the fire again, hoping to hold off the chill brought on by the bloody wake-up call and the early morning breeze on the snow.

 

“InuYasha.” Miroku's voice held a fearful tone, which brought the hanyou around to face the houshi. “That's Sango's sword.”

 

InuYasha looked at the sword lying between them. He saw the touch of red cord on it and recognized in retrospect the weight of a woman's weapon. Miroku lifted the sword carefully and ran his fingers gingerly along its length.

 

Leaving the houshi to his worries, the hanyou skirted the newly crackling fire to look more closely at the corpse. He heard a wet squelching sound and blinked as he watched Jakotsu's head roll sightlessly in little movements to reattach to his body. He saw the man's eyes move then, small dark dots trailing across the white of his face. The eyes blinked accompanied by a coyly disturbing smile on his face.

 

“InuYasha! I'm beginning to think you don't want me!”

 

“Damn it!” InuYasha grabbed the thing's kimono and noticed for the first time that it, too, felt fleshy under his touch, lightweight and insubstantial. Gripping it tightly, he managed to throw the creature against the cave wall so that it landed in an awkward sitting position, its exposed leg bent at an odd angle under its body. Stumbling back, he moved his foot quickly out of the way as the severed arm rolled its way over to the corpse to reattach itself. Retrieving the sword from Miroku, he pointed it straight at Jakotsu and said, “Bastard! What are you doing with Sango's sword!”

 

“Oh, InuYasha … I can't tell you if you slice me up again.” The creature pretended to plead but InuYasha wasn't having any of it.

 

“Yes, you can!” he yelled as he sliced off a foot and threw it out into the snow. He was disgusted to note that the creature seemed to feel no pain at the amputation. “It may come back, but it will take a while. Tell me what I want to know! Where did you get this sword?”

 

Jakotsu's expression changed, the cold-blooded killer coming forth again with a nonchalance that stilled their breath. “I killed her for it.” The thing now turned to look at Miroku. InuYasha positioned himself between them. “Last night, when she came back to collect you from the battle field.” Miroku made an involuntary sound. “I attacked her and slit her throat with her own sword. She was an easy target, thinking you'd won the battle.”

 

“We did win the battle!” InuYasha felt a rising tide in him, an alarm that Sango lay dead or dying near them in the snow, somewhere close within their reach. “You're lying!”

 

“Am I?” The thing was now talking to the houshi, fully aware of the seeds of dismay he was sowing. “You hate me for killing her. Do you want me to tell you exactly how she died? I can tell you what she screamed, how her body felt as it jerked uncontrollably in my arms, how her breath bubbled from her throat and mixed with the blood that washed over my hand-“

 

“I'm not going to tell you again to shut up!” At InuYasha's outburst, the Jakotsu beast fell silent, with a slight smile on its lips. InuYasha looked at Miroku and knew both of them were very shaken. “I don't smell her blood on him, Miroku.” InuYasha tried to sound more confident than he felt, still not quite ready to trust his senses. Miroku didn't look at him but stared straight ahead at Sango's self-professed murderer.

 

“What do you want?” The houshi's voice was strained, sweat dripping from his shivering lips.

 

“I want what I've always wanted, blood, death and excitement.” Jakotsu's voice was growing impatient and his eyes slid to InuYasha's waistline. “And this time, I also want - revenge.”

 

“That's not happenin',” InuYasha's voice dropped menacingly, reacting reflexively to the insinuation left unsaid.

 

“And why should we let you have revenge on us?” Miroku's voice wavered and it was clear that he was now suffering many more wounds than the shouki could possibly account for.

 

“Because I am the only one that can save Kagome now that she is all alone.” His eyes bored into the houshi's. “Now that InuYasha has abandoned her.” Jakotsu shifted his gaze to look straight at InuYasha, his eyes unwavering. InuYasha stopped breathing for a moment, extremely aware of how far away Kagome was from his protective sphere, and how little he knew about her fate.

 

“I didn't abandon her, you asshole!” InuYasha's anger was coming back and wrapping a warm blanket around the ice forming on his heart. What did this creature know about Kagome? “I sent her back to heal! She's safe and you can't touch her!”

 

“Oh, poor InuYasha. I forgot you don't know.” The creature shook its head in mock sympathy and took on the air of a vicious tease, “She's not safe. She's as good as dead at this very second. The jewel she carries could save her if she were conscious and could use it, but instead, because she can't purify it, it's rotting her spirit. Poor thing,” its voice turned venomous, “she's dying alone. You might be able to save her if you could touch her, if you were there. But you're not there, are you? You sent her away.” Jakotsu's voice was lowering again into the deadly sound of a murderer. “Unlike you, I am connected to the jewel. I don't have to touch her to heal her - or kill her. I can do it from here. Give me what I want and she'll live."

 

“Shut up! You're fucking lying.” InuYasha did not feel or sound as confident as he wanted to, though, and he was very conscious of his heart beating loudly against his ribcage as the cold crept in once again. “Why should we believe you?”

 

“Because the jewel lived in my flesh for longer than your girl has held it. Because I know how to manipulate it, shape its power to my will. Because I know what it really is. Your woman does not understand this yet.” He looked out of the cave's entrance into the snow, searching for something.

 

“Look at me!” InuYasha hated the fact that the creature's words fueled his dread, bringing forth foreboding images of Kagome's sightless eyes as she struggled against the tainted jewel's spell. Unsettled by the thing's efforts to see behind him, he risked a glance back and was relieved at first to see the peaceful snowscape. Then his eye caught a movement at the edge of the clearing. His tensed nerves jerked the sword in his hand towards the shifting snow as the beast's foot emerged into the clearing, clunking towards its master.

 

“What are you?” InuYasha stepped closer to try and answer his own question. “You're not that Jakotsu bastard. You smell like shouki.”

 

“Jakotsu was nothing but bones and earth raised from the dead and animated by the jewel.” The thing sounded infuriatingly confident and vaguely familiar, changing personality yet again. “I'm made up of something else, but I am all the evil memories of him you carry in your heart, and more.”

 

“What are you talking about?” The strain in Miroku's voice had increased, and InuYasha saw him shiver again, trying to wrap the remains of the moss blanket around his shoulders. It fell away into pieces. InuYasha huffed out a frustrated sound and reached down to grab the putrid foot as it came past him, crinkling his nose as he sniffed it before throwing it back out into the snow. He stepped forward and sliced off the thing's other foot, holding it and feeling it for a moment. “What is it?” Miroku asked. InuYasha tossed it to the houshi, his eyes never leaving the thing in front of him. Miroku examined it closely before throwing it back to land at InuYasha's feet, the concern on his features deepening. InuYasha took it and heaved it off in the other direction.

 

“You understand, don't you, InuYasha?” The Jakotsu thing was unaffected by its dismemberment, looking intently at the hanyou in front of him.

 

InuYasha did understand that their victory was not complete. Miroku coughed with a sound that rattled up from his chest, and InuYasha backed around the fire, his blood boiling to the point that he thought his suikan was better used by Miroku. He gave the warm Fire Rat jacket to the houshi before moving back to face this new nemesis, the small sword held out as his only protection.

 

“You're what's left of that bastard, Naraku.” InuYasha couldn't help the snarl in his words. “I found part of you last night near where we killed him.”

 

“Exactly.” The thing had become patronizing, and a shadow of Naraku's voice rung from it's throat. “I retain the memories and some of the power of Naraku. And when you picked me up, you gave me your memories, and your nightmares.”

 

“But you're not Naraku himself.” Miroku seemed more coherent now, wrapped in the warm Fire Rat fur. “You are weak.”

 

“I am not Naraku, this is true.” It shifted its fleshy stumps, which grew new feet in a matter of seconds; bending its knees, it stood to its former height. “But I am not weak.” It took one step forward towards InuYasha, who saw the pouty personality of Jakotsu descend on it like a mask. “Come on, InuYasha, Kagome's life is waiting.” It took another step forward. “I'll let you make me bleed instead. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Stab all your hatred and fear into me, cut me with it until-“

 

“Shut up!” InuYasha roared, his voice sending echoes of pain up into his head.

 

InuYasha had never missed Tetsusaiga more than he did at that moment. The deep-seated desire to channel all his hatred, desperation and guilt into his weapon, then obliterate everything in front of him with a blast of energy, was beginning to consume him. His emotions were so roiled in his belly that he could barely form a thought and his nausea was simmering at dangerous levels. The creature did not advance, but as proof of its threat it reached to grasp the small sword InuYasha pointed at it, letting the blade penetrate gently into its flesh.

 

“Come into me with your blade, InuYasha,” The creature frowned in mock irritation as it pulled the sword into its torso, piercing the fleshy fabric and whatever was underneath. Then it reached its free hand toward the hanyou, “I ache for you to enter me, impale me, flail against me in a frenzy until you are spent.”

 

Thoughts from some rational part of his brain began to scream at him to get away from the thing drawing him in, but another within him responded to the hatred and helplessness of the situation with a fire burning in his veins. He felt the beginnings of his youkai arousal, and for the first time in his life he let it come willingly, he welcomed it, welcomed the abandon it would give him, welcomed the complete destruction it would lay on this disgusting creature in front of him. He wanted the sense of power it would give him when he felt totally powerless, unable to trust his body and unable to use his physical strength to reach the woman whose life he had placed in jeopardy. The small rational creature inside him continued to raise a horrified howl as it felt the youkai blood rising, pushing him into darkness, filling him with burning energy and bringing his sex up with it in a frothing boil. But he couldn't help it; it was part of the blood lust, part of the abandon he craved.

 

Miroku sensed some of what was happening. “InuYasha! He's lying!” The houshi shifted forward when the hanyou didn't move. “Kagome is fine. I can tell.” Still, InuYasha didn't move a muscle. “InuYasha! If you do this, you will threaten her life more! Trust me, I can sense it.”

 

That small rational being inside him felt relief flood him at these words. Without caring if they were true, it used the information to fight a battle of wills that froze his limbs. Just then the Jakotsu thing pulled the sword all the way through its body, poking the blade out its back. Reaching for InuYasha's neck, it moved to bring his lips closer, to touch... Both halves of the hanyou revolted at this gesture and heaved up on the sword to split the thing in half. It reformed quickly, but this gave InuYasha time to step back and begin to get control of himself. His own life wasn't threatened yet; he could stop the transformation if he wanted to.

 

“You still want to abandon yourself to stabbing at me, don't you?” The thing was not done talking. “I can see it in your eyes, InuYasha. You want me helpless under your hatred, writhing under your fear, dying under your blade.”

 

“I said, shut up!” InuYasha took a deep breath and another step back. He wasn't going to let himself get goaded by this thing anymore. “Yes, I want you dead…” but not like that! He thought he heard a sigh of relief from the houshi, who understood his hesitation correctly.

 

In the space of the silence that followed, an animal growl came to them on the wind. InuYasha looked up to see a welcome sight. Kilala, flames trailing her feet and tail, arced down over the trees with a lithe dark shape on her back, framed by a large bone hiraikotsu. Sango! They landed lightly and Sango rushed up to InuYasha, holding out his sheathed Tetsusaiga. Kilala took up a position next to them, growling flames at the creature before them.

 

“Sango, you're alive!” InuYasha's relief was obvious as he took the Tetsusaiga from her. A similar but sobbing sound came from the houshi behind him.

 

“Of course I am.” She looked tired and seemed confused by his statement. She looked warily at the creature before him. “Is that…?”

 

“A fucking liar!” InuYasha did not want to explain.

 

“InuYasha,” Sango glanced past him at the houshi, clearly worried, and then back at the Jakotsu-thing, trying to decide how best to help. “Kagome is still very injured. Kaede wants you to go back to her as soon as you can. Something is happening between her and the jewel. Kaede doesn't understand it.” Sango reached around to grasp a container fastened to her belt. “Kilala is tired so I'll wait here with houshi-sama.”

 

InuYasha's stomach churned at these words, had this bastard been telling the truth? Was Kagome really powerless to help herself, unconscious and lost in limbo between life and death? He looked at the thing in front of him, whose face cracked in a wild smile, and felt a new rage rise within him.

 

“InuYasha,” Sango had more to say, “Kagome said there is still evil here. I think she purified the Tetsusaiga.”

 

“She's awake?” Relief flowed into him like a cool mountain spring on hot embers as Sango nodded.

 

“Well, she's spoken…,” Sango hesitated to reassure him, but he'd heard all he needed to be filled with hope.

 

“Thanks, Sango. Go take care of Miroku.” InuYasha held Tetsusaiga up to look at it, realizing the other sword in his hand felt like a cooking knife compared to the solid heft of his weapon. “Oh, and this is yours, isn't it?” He held out the smaller sword to Sango.

 

“Yes,” she said, surprised as she reached for it, “I lost it in the battle. Where did you find it?”

 

“Take care of your houshi.”

 

Sango smiled as she stepped around the fire. “Miroku, Kaede made this for you and Kagome blessed it with the jewel. Drink it quickly.”

 

As the houshi and the slayer sat together, InuYasha wrapped his fingers lovingly around Tetsusaiga's hilt and withdrew the blade with relish from the carefully polished sheath. He sensed more than saw the disappointment coming from the creature in front of him.

 

Immediately, he felt Kagome's presence flowing into him at the same time his own energy rose from the soles of his feet, through his groin and into his heart to course powerfully from his hands into the sword, expanding it as an extension of his very soul. Her peaceful blessing soothed his uneasy heart, creating room for the strength that lived there naturally to come forth. More than just strength, it sent a healing energy into him, washing away the pain in his head and sharpening his senses. It was with great satisfaction that he confronted the beast in front of him.

 

“Now, you die forever,” he said in a dangerous tone. Speaking more to himself than to the creature, he continued, “You and everything you stand for.”

 

“No, InuYasha,” the smile on its face was eerie and knowing, “I never die. For I still live in you.”

 

As he raised Tetsusaiga over his head, knowing instinctively that his great physical force was unnecessary; InuYasha used the purified strength radiating from his heart and flowing through the blade to dissolve the beast before him. The creature, its face still frozen in a mask of horror, melted in a fiery blaze of sparks as the glowing white fang fell upon it, leaving no trace of its existence behind. He stared at the spot it had occupied, waiting for something more, but nothing happened.

 

“Yeah,” he said as he probed the place where the Jakotsu thing had been, “you die alright.”

 

Approaching Miroku and Sango, he sheathed Tetsusaiga and knelt, feeling strong once again. “How do you feel?”

 

“Much better,” Miroku looked relieved and InuYasha knew it was for more than his own well being. “Oi!” Miroku jerked his hand and raised it to his face, peeling back the beads and cloth that had protected him from himself for so long. “It's healed!” He showed the clean skin to his friends.

 

Sango made a strangled sound and whispered through brimming tears, “Houshi-sama-”

 

InuYasha was also moved by Miroku's fortune, and he laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing lightly to convey his feelings; gratitude mixing with the happiness he felt for Miroku.

 

“Thanks,” he said in a low voice, “I don't know what I would have done if it weren't for you.” Miroku smiled at him and their eyes locked for a moment, sharing thoughts unsaid. InuYasha asked, “How did you know Kagome was okay?”

 

“I didn't,” Miroku laughed lightly, possibly masking emotion, “I just knew you'd do something stupid if you didn't believe it.”

 

InuYasha shuddered a little bit, not wanting to think about how close he'd been to being that stupid.

 

“What happened?” Sango was clearly not following the conversation.

 

“Nothing,” Miroku smiled up at her and cupped her face in his newly healed hand. “Just a nightmare. But now that you're here the sun is up again.” They looked in each other's eyes and smiled deeply, a signal to InuYasha that he should leave.

 

“I'll come back for you as soon as I can,” InuYasha said quietly as he put his suikan back on and let Sango settle a warm blanket over Miroku's shoulders. He left them in a huddle, and mounting Kilala, he allowed his heart to turn to his next journey: helping Kagome heal. All the fear and worry he'd felt, the emptiness inside him, was gone, replaced by something else, something stronger and deeper. And with the strength he felt flowing in him now, he knew she would be well; with the nightmare over, he could help her. And she would be just fine.

 

As he took off into the sky, a small bit of snow under the trees shifted and rolled, moving aside to let two feet of evil reconnect quietly in the cold.

 

 

 

THE END