InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Victory Suite ❯ Victory's Reward ( Chapter 3 )

Author's Note: “Victory's Reward” is a one-shot story, but it's also the third and finalmovement 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 Reward

 

 

Daylight shines on victory's aftermath,

the death and the life laid bare.

Memory, heartache and hope call

the courageous to turn the wheel

of fate. Crushed beneath its rim, they weep.

Finding faith in endless cycles, they believe

love will bear the pain of sacrifice.

 

 

The adrenaline was finally starting to subside, leaving behind a deep, aching exhaustion. Sango kept her eyes straight ahead, her mind efficiently clicking through the things that needed to be done, playing with the order in which she should do them to ensure that everyone left survived. One hand burrowed into Kilala's fur, warm and alive at her side, while the other moved lightly over Kagome's still back as she lay on the youkai beast that carried them with such speed. Unconscious, Kagome lay face down, the completed jewel tucked to her heart and her hips cradled into Sango's lap, their open legs draped together down Kilala's sides as they flew furiously towards the village. Shippou clung to Kagome, snuggled up against Sango, and slept. He'd hidden through most of the battle and she'd found him under a tree limb, in shock after having witnessed the carnage and near slaughter of his surrogate family.

 

Sango moved her hand from where she selfishly stroked her good friend to rest on Shippou's little head. What was she playing at, attempting to soothe Kagome's wounds? It was only an effort to calm her own worries; for all she knew, her touch hurt Kagome more than it helped. Kagome did not move, as though it did not matter.

 

Focusing on Kagome had been a mistake. Watching her unmoving form, dwelling on the futility of a soft touch to heal the horrible wounds dripping from her body, and probably her soul, Sango felt a tentative wave of darkness push up from somewhere hidden. Brief images of Kouga and Kikyou, slashed upon the frozen ground at Naraku's feet, came forward and Sango pushed them away, staring into the cold wind that streamed past her as they raced. She could not look back, she must look forward. Her friends needed her, Kagome so still under her hand, InuYasha so uneasy struggling through the symptoms of a nasty concussion, and… Miroku. A sob came up, and for a second time she pushed it away, only losing the battle of a single tiny tear. The image of Miroku's limp, shouki-stained body swam down her cheek, looking just as she'd found it after InuYasha and Kagome had finished off Naraku and the shouki mist had begun to clear. Another battle was lost when one more tear squeezed out with the reflection of her houshi, still unconscious and breathing raggedly, in InuYasha's arms as Kilala's ascent took them away, his kazaana hand still tightly wrapped in its protection against the purple stain that remained there. InuYasha, take care of him for me. How she wished InuYasha's balance had been less effected by his injuries and he'd been the one to fly with Kagome, allowing Sango to stay behind… with… both of them. Three times, now, she pushed away the swelling darkness as it began to assault her.

 

Kilala spied it first, the bend in the stream as it became a river flowing down towards their route back to Kaede's village. Thankful for a task again, Sango began to glance around for flying youkai, any of Naraku's leftovers that might be tracking them or hunting them. She hitched her hiraikotsu up, relieving its weight off her shoulder. As Kilala made the turn, and fully began her decent off the mountain, the air began to warm and Sango smelled signs of life in the earth again, the heavy brown scents of early winter and late autumn death as it rotted away in the valley. This was somewhat comforting; it meant she was that much closer to completing her first task and delivering Kagome into Kaede's care.

 

She shifted the broken pieces of Tetsusaiga in her belt, and began to contemplate her second task. Kilala knew the way to Toutousai's lair, but if the swordsmith was traveling, she would have to decide on a search pattern, looking through his things for a clue as to where he'd gone. And she'd have to decide how long to look before returning without being able to fix InuYasha's sword, which they needed to finish cleaning up the mess on the battlefield and ensure that Naraku was gone for good.

 

The village was in sight, and she began to rehearse her plans for when they arrived, efficiently relating the news, grabbing some food and heading out as quickly as she could to Toutousai. It never occurred to her that Kaede would ask questions.

 

Once Sango and Kaede had laid Kagome by the fire and Kaede had done what she could for the girl, the old woman turned to look at Sango with piercing eyes.

 

“And the others?” Kaede's voice was so tight Sango could barely hear it.

 

Slowly and painfully, struggling to hold the fresh wounds closed, she related her news, just as rehearsed. When she was done, Sango sat, staring at the fire, utterly exhausted. She moved her eyes to where Kaede placed a gentle hand on Kagome's forehead, and she couldn't help but notice the worry knitting the old woman's brow as her eyes rested on the broken pieces of InuYasha's sword still lashed to Sango's hip.

 

Silence was thick in the air, the full weight of their worry settling upon them. Finally, Sango filled her lungs with effort and stood, hands on her hips, her next task looming before her.

 

“Kaede,” her voice was strong in her ears, “I need to get Tetsusaiga repaired. May I have some food for the journey?”

 

“Of course.” Kaede rose to gather some simple rations and wrap them in a deep blue cloth. Handing the packet to Sango, she let her fingers trail lightly on Tetsusaiga's dulled blade and looked up into Sango's eyes. “Please make sure you return here once the sword is fixed.” Her request held weight and Sango nodded reluctantly. She moved past the miko and knelt to touch Kagome's cheek. Not daring to let words escape her, she scooped up Kilala and moved on to the door. Just as she reached the threshold, Kaede's question stopped her, probing the freshest wound

 

“Sango,” feeling trembled deeply in her voice, “what of Kohaku?”

 

Sango didn't move. She didn't turn. She couldn't. She was frozen in time again, as she had been when she'd first seen his still form, the cruel gash in his back, the shock in his glassy eyes, the odd angle at which his limbs were splayed underneath his body. Just as it she couldn't breathe then, she couldn't breathe now.

 

Some mechanism in her brain took over, probably a mere bodily defense, and she felt the threatening chaos recede, a cool mental clarity taking its place. Filling her lungs with a deep inhalation, she turned to Kaede and did her best to move her features back into their mask. “He's dead.”

 

She was out the door and gone, flying away as fast as she could.

 

+++++++++

 

The next day was like a blur. They had found Toutousai easily, sparing Sango the decisions she had earlier feared. But then he gave her new worries as he fretted over how to repair the hanyou's weapon without a fresh fang from InuYasha himself. But then, understanding the desperation of the situation, he came upon a “new” solution. His “experiment” worried Sango as well, hoping it wouldn't add unnecessary time to her errand, although there was nothing to be done about it. The old man had left Sango alone while he worked and she sat on the edge of the lava field surrounding his lair, stroking Kilala's fur, trying desperately not to think about Kohaku by worrying over Miroku. The sulfuric fumes wafting out from the volcanic ground made her feel even more ill than the festering wounds on her soul.

 

Finally, he had finished and she hurried back to Kaede's, following Toutousai's instructions to have the sword blessed by one of the mikos. She was not happy about the side trip, aching to return to Miroku, but Kaede insisted she stay until the next morning as night had fallen by the time Kagome had blessed the Tetsusaiga, only becoming conscious long enough to give them hope.

 

“But what if they need me?” Sango was very agitated. “What if they're freezing to death?” Sango stood near the door, looking as though she was about to run out into the dark.

 

“Kagome needs you too.” Kaede looked at the unconscious girl. “She needs more time with the Tetsusaiga. It is giving her strength and she is giving it power. Both are necessary for Kagome to return to us a full miko, capable of vanquishing the next monstrous evil you encounter.” She saw the look of anguish on Sango's face. The young woman had barely heard her. “You said that InuYasha was with Miroku, didn't you?” Kaede tried to sound comforting.

 

“Yes, but they're both injured.” Sango was beginning to get exicted, her nerves easily frayed. “InuYasha was hit on the head pretty hard and he couldn't see or smell right when I left yesterday. I've never seen him so unsteady. I'm worried that he can't help Miroku well enough.”

 

“Hmph. InuYasha will be fine,” Kaede said, looking in her miko storage chest. “Tell me about Miroku's injuries.”

 

“He took in too much shouki in the battle. He-” she stopped, dropping to her knees and lowered her face into her hands, ”he wouldn't close his kazaana, even when we all screamed at him.” Her breath was raw in her throat. “I was hoping that Kagome could heal him… like Kikyou did.” She lifted her face to Kaede, no tears, but fear streamed from her. “Kaede, what will I do if…” she looked at Kagome's still form, “if Kagome can't heal him?”

 

Kaede pulled something dark from her box, and a small bag.

 

“Shouki is dangerous,” she said to honor Sango's fears. Rising, Kaede made her way back to the fire, “I am not my sister, or Kagome,” she knelt slowly, “but maybe I can help.” She opened a gourd container and a horrible scent swept into the room and set Sango's stomach roiling almost as badly as the volcanic mist at Toutousai's. The old woman set about preparing a mixture and soon she handed Sango a mortar and pestle with some dark herbs in the bowl. “You should grind these.”

 

“Why? I'm not a miko.” Sango arched her eyebrows in surprise as she recoiled from the newest stench.

 

“True,” Kaede smiled at her with wise eyes, “but you love him,” she smiled wider as Sango blushed,” and love is a miko's secret power. Just think about your love for him while you grind the herbs and it will help him.” And it will help you, she thought to herself.

 

They worked in silence for some time and then Kaede put the mixture near the fire to heat, removing another small pot and pouring a thick tea for Sango. Bringing it to her with a small amount of food, she said, “Eat and drink this, and then you will sleep well tonight. They will need your strength, and so you must be strong.”

 

Sango gritted her teeth. Be strong.

 

+++++++++

 

Despite the pain of his injuries, Miroku had a feeling of well-being he couldn't remember having felt ever in his life. Sango lay next to him with her head in his lap, asleep. He rested his head against the rocky wall to look at the crackling fire and the beautiful snow drifts just outside the tall mouth of the cave. It was chilly, but the late night air was still; there were, only a few snowflakes drifting down from the clouds which had released most of their burden in the days beforehand. The world slept with Sango and he felt privileged to watch them both, letting the happiness roll into him over and over again. My kazaana - my curse - is gone. There were other worries rolling in too, but just for now, he'd enjoy this little bit of goodness.

 

The last two days were something of a nightmare to him. He remembered sucking in one of Naraku's appendages just as it was about to attack Kohaku, the shouki mist disappearing along with the noxious flesh as it came into his hand. As it had so many times before, the pain had attacked him from the inside, exploding pressure into his head that ruptured the blood vessels of his eyes and nose. The poison had leaked into his blood - which had become black with Naraku's venom - and onto his skin. He'd expected the final battle to come to the decision point, and he was prepared. Thanking the gods, including the kami of his boyhood home, he had resolved to keep his kazaana open as long as he could. He remembered screaming to Sango and Kohaku to stay away as he struggled advance on Naraku, intending to destroy him with the final blast as his body turned on itself, leaving nothing but a crater in the ground.

 

But Naraku had discerned his plan and reached a particularly long tentacle around behind him, puncturing his hip with it and pouring pure shouki, thick and black, into his body. His last clear memory was of InuYasha closing his hand and wrapping the beads around his wrist. He'd failed yet again to kill Naraku, leaving the beast to attack his friends and his beloved. Miroku closed his eyes as he reflected on the feelings of shame and anger that he had felt as he blacked out then, hating the fact that he was going to die without vindicating his father and grandfather, without even enabling his family to continue the battle. And Sango… at that moment, he'd regretted nothing more than failing to protect her. He shuddered a little with the memory, hoping he never had to experience such despair again.

 

After that, he had fuzzy images of InuYasha trying to keep him from freezing to death. Chilling and hazy memories came to him of the hanyou fighting a noxious leftover from Naraku's corpse that prayed on their fears. Though still vague with pain, he remembered clearly when the thing claimed it had killed Sango after the battle was over. He'd been filled with utter despair at those words, thinking he'd lost her again. When InuYasha had finally managed to destroy it, using the Tetsusaiga with Kagome's blessing, Miroku's kazaana had disappeared for good.

 

He shook off a chill and pulled the blankets more closely around his shoulders and up Sango's hips. Smiling, he placed a hand gently on her rear, watching to see if she awoke, wondering what she would do. Her eyes did not open and he breathed a contented sigh, keeping his hand there and enjoying the thought that perhaps he'd earned the right for it to stay. When she'd arrived, alive and well, to give him a medicinal drink made by Kaede and blessed by Kagome, everything had changed and his nightmare had become a dream. He still worried for Kagome, but InuYasha was with her now. And Sango was here, with him. The mindgames of thinking he'd failed her and thinking her dead had left a dark residue, and he still needed to touch her to believe she was alive. Looking at her face, he remembered her words after InuYasha had left on Kilala. Houshi, you saved me and I needed to save you. I couldn't live if you'd died.

 

She'd told him how his kazaana, trying to take out the section of Naraku that was targeting Kohaku, had also sucked in some shouki shards that were shooting out towards Sango before hiraikotsu had returned to be her shield. Had he not had his kazaana open, she would surely have died in the battle. As it turned out, holding open his kazaana as long as he had became the turning point, weakening Naraku and allowing Kagome close enough to almost purify the beast so that InuYasha could finish him off. In the end, it had been a team effort, and Sango had given him credit for saving them all… at least almost all of them.

 

His thoughts darkened as he realized that while Sango had put up a good front, trying to be cheerful and giving him credit for much of their success, she had not spoken of her sorrow for Kohaku, even though she'd silently cried herself to sleep. He knew that her brother's death was going to haunt her until she brought it forth and grieved. He moved his hand to her face, stroking her cheek. Her eyes were moving and he thought she must be dreaming. He thought he was dreaming, touching her with his unprotected hand, so smooth and whole. Placing his hand gently back on her hip, he closed his eyes and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

 

++++++++++++

 

Sango's dreams were dark and fast. Images rushed by of monsters chasing her and attacking her. Somehow she kept managing to escape, but just barely. She didn't really even care about them, they were just in her way, she was chasing something too; and so she ran. Finally, she caught a glimpse - only a glimpse - of Kohaku's back as he ran away from her in the dark, and the monsters ran after them both. Him, always running away. Her, always unable to catch up. The nightmare pulled her into it, following him, running.

 

Suddenly, he stopped and as she ran, she began to feel hope. The sky began to lighten and the monsters receded, falling behind as she ran and ran. Kohaku was getting closer, he was going to let her reach him. And then she did; she caught up to him, put her arm out to touch him and he smiled at her. His face looked peaceful and happy. She felt a wash of love from him as he put his arms around her, wrapping himself at her waist and nestling against her as he had when they were young and at home in their father's house. She felt his happiness. He was happy and he wanted her to know it. Her heart burst, not with sorrow, but with joy. Joy for him.

 

And then she was cold. Her limbs felt stiff and her neck ached as she shifted it against Miroku's leg. Blinking her eyes open, she took in the light of the winter's dawn and saw her houshi's face, peacefully asleep. She looked down at his hand, the hand she'd never seen exposed, strong and uncalloused, gently resting on her rear. She laughed to herself and decided not to hit him - yet. They'd been through enough and the poor guy was asleep. She turned her shoulders back to lay them against the ground, putting her back in a twist that felt good. She'd have to get up and do some more stretches soon, but for now, she would enjoy the morning's sunrise with her houshi.

 

The image of Kohaku, contentedly wrapping himself around her waist, still warmed her. Her sorrow had returned with the fading of the dream, but somehow she felt he'd come to say goodbye, and that he was happy. It soothed her spirit to think he was in a place where he could be so happy. For just a moment, she felt the guilt she'd lived with for years lift, lightening her heart.

 

Miroku's hand started to move, stroking her lightly and she looked up at him. His eyes were still closed but a small smile played on his lips and she reached out to bat his hand away playfully. She didn't hit him that hard, but he winced and jerked his arm in. She'd hit his kazaana hand! Maybe it hadn't fully healed yet.

 

“I'm sorry, houshi-sama,” she said, sitting up and putting a hand out to touch his sleeve. “Did I hurt you?” He cradled his hand in his other palm and opened his eyes as a full smile came onto his face.

 

“Only my heart, dear Sango.” He reached down to sit up a bit more and cross his legs underneath him with a true wince of pain this time. Stretching out his neck and shoulders he bent his head down for a moment and then let his chin follow his eyes up to look at her with an unabashedly flirtatious wink. “I keep hoping someday you'll let me do that without whacking me.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I'll just have to keep waiting for someday.”

 

She laughed and stood up, stretching in the early morning sunlight.

 

“You look lovely,” he said. “And much happier than you did last night when you fell asleep crying.”

 

“Yeah.” She sobered a little bit, but didn't look too upset that he'd noticed. “I had a good dream.”

 

“I'm glad,” he said and tried to stand. His aching hip couldn't support his weight and he fell back down on his butt with a painful exhale. “Not quite ready for that, I guess.” He looked around with a puzzled look on his face. “I must have lost my staff in the battle. Too bad, I could really use it about now.”

 

“I'll go see if I can find it for you.” Sango had a determined expression on her face that surprised him.

 

“No, Sango.” Miroku was concerned. “It's not that important.” And I don't want you to leave again.

 

“It's okay, houshi-sama,” she said, swinging her body in some twisting motions. “I could use the exercise.” She leaned over to pick up hiraikotsu. “It's not that far, and I promise I won't be long.”

 

As she ran into the woods, Sango felt strong, but she soon felt a heaviness descending on her again. Glad for the excuse to look for Miroku's staff, she also felt a sudden need to see Kohaku's body, to say her goodbye as he'd said his. She left deep tracks in the snow as she ran.

 

+++++++++++++

 

Miroku moved carefully around the camp site, building up the fire, taking care of some personal needs and then settling back down. As he reached for the blanket to put over his shoulders, he felt an aching pain deep in his chest, behind his heart. It was familiar and the shot of fear-induced adrenaline pumped through him to confirm his fears of shouki poisoning. Gingerly, he parted his robes to look down and see a bruised purple stain grow over his chest. It was back! Damn it!

 

He reached over and grasped the flask with Kaede's healing medicine, opening it to drink the last bit. As he lifted it, he felt a little tingle that came into him just before the liquid met his lips. Silently, he thanked Kagome for her blessing on the noxious stuff inside, and was aware again of how much power she must have gained in the final vanquishing of Naraku. The medicine itself was powerful, but he could sense the strength of Kagome's purification go more deeply into him than even the liquid could reach. His traveling companions often questioned his spiritual power, but he knew a powerful miko's blessing when he felt it. He said a little prayer for her in return and finished the noxious stuff. It cooled his throat and his belly as it went down, helping ease the ache growing in his heart.

 

He was breathing fast, a sign of his fear returning, and the familiar dread of not knowing if he had a day or a lifetime to live was like a wet storm gathering in him again. He'd been liberated from this haunt for less than a day and already he resented its return, already he'd grown accustomed to his freedom. Though realizing the stain and ache were still slight compared to his kazaana, which - when he double-checked -- remained banished, anger brewed in him anyway. It wasn't fair to be so whipped about; to be given hope and then to have it snatched away. Despite his years of training in acceptance of “the way” anger still found a place deep within him.

 

Sitting back to try and calm himself, he sent a little prayer out to Sango. He probably shouldn't worry about her, but he did anyway and he wanted her back selfishly. His eyes followed her footprints in the snow and he caught a flicker of movement between the trees where her path ended. Could she be coming back so soon? Sitting up, he squinted and caught a glimpse of her armored black outfit, but something was different. He couldn't see the flash of red on her shoulders and as his mind concluded that something was wrong, the slight form of Kohaku resolved out of the darkness, coming into the early morning light.

 

Miroku stopped breathing for a moment, shocked to see Sango's little brother, who was supposed to be dead, as he staggered out of the trees' protection and moved towards the fire. He was horribly wounded, the side of his face and one eye was a scabbed mass of blood and his shoulder drooped at an odd angle, as though something had tried to break it off and only sinew and skin kept it attached to him at all.

 

“Kohaku!” Miroku croaked out finally, unable to rise and help the boy. Suddenly he felt the pump of adrenaline flush through his body as the real began to feel more like the unreal. It was a familiar feeling from their many fights with Naraku, but Miroku found that this time he didn't have nearly the energy for it. Wounded and spent from battle, even the apparent good news of seeing Sango's brother alive was disconcerting. He was annoyed that he didn't feel more joy at the thought that Kohaku lived after all.

 

Kohaku looked up, his good eye focusing somewhat in Miroku's direction. He did not speak, but shuffled through the snow to collapse next to the fire. As he sat heavily, he lost his balance and fell, exposing his back briefly to the houshi, who saw a huge gash along his spine, deep and bloody, where Naraku had taken his shard. The skin around the wound was black and Miroku guessed that the yellow substance he saw was infectious puss, a reaction to Naraku's shouki poison. How the boy had survived these days in the snow puzzled him, but Miroku was sure he would not live much longer.

 

“Ane-ue?!” the boy said piteously as he pushed himself up with his good arm.

 

“She's not here,” Miroku found his voice again and reached for a flask of water, which he tossed to Kohaku. “Drink some water.” The boy complied. “She'll be back soon.” Miroku watched him carefully. “How did you survive the battle?” And the snowstorms since the battle? He wondered to himself.

 

“Uh?” Kohaku was having a hard time focusing. “Dunno.”

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Kohaku staring at the fire. Finally he blinked and moved his eyes to Miroku.

 

“Kill me,” he said simply.

 

“What?” Miroku pulled back unconsciously, horrified. “No! I'm not going to kill you. Why would I do that?”

 

“I'm dying,” Kohaku said thickly in his still-young voice. “I hurt, and I don't deserve to live anyway.” He blinked again, focusing on Miroku for the first time. “Besides, you've always been jealous of me.” An ironic attempt at a grin warped his mouth. “This is your big chance.”

 

“No!” Miroku felt the tiniest stab of guilt at the tiniest little lie. He'd never admit his jealousy, ever. Remembering Mushin's teachings, he focused again on his compassion for the tortured soul in front of him. “Kohaku, Sango will be back soon and we'll take you to a healer. Perhaps Kagome is well enough by now to help you.”

 

“Kagome.” The boy said the name blankly, as though trying to place her. “InuYasha's girl.”

 

“Yes.” Miroku glanced around, trying to think of something else he could do for the boy. He must be freezing. “Here, take this.” He took the blanket that had covered Sango as she slept and tossed it next to the fire. Kohaku groped at it awkwardly with his functioning arm, managing to get it around his shoulder. Miroku was surprised to see that the movements did not seem to cause him pain. Perhaps his nerves had been severed.

 

They sat a bit longer. Silent.

 

“Will Ane-ue be back soon?” Kohaku said dully into the fire. “Maybe she will take my life for me.”

 

“She should be back soon,” Miroku felt a stab of fear then, realizing what Sango would be faced with. “But don't ask her to kill you, please. She won't do it. She's been grieving for you terribly.” He noticed the boy's face take on a brief look of satisfaction and the houshi became very unnerved. He was just about to ask the boy again how he'd managed to survive since the battle when he heard the ringing of his staff from deep within the trees. Sango was coming back.

 

“Houshi!” He heard panic in her voice. “Houshi! Are you alright? I saw-” he heard her gulp in her words as she broke the treeline and ran towards them, hiraikotsu at the ready and his staff in her other hand. As soon as her eyes took in Kohaku, huddling by the fire, she skidded to a stop, shock freezing her features. She dropped her massive boomerang and the staff in the snow and came forward quickly.

 

“Koh-” she dropped to her knees next to the boy and Miroku felt a twinge, wishing he could get to his staff. For some reason, he wanted to be ready to defend her. Sango touched the boy's knee lightly and Miroku watched as Kohaku's face took on a new recognition, softening into the features of the young boy that were even more familiar to him. Something nagged at his mind.

 

“Ane-ue,” his tone was as they remembered it from their earlier journeys, after Kohaku had remembered his sins and resolved to help fight Naraku. It clearly broke Sango's heart and she reached out to him, trying to bring him into an embrace.

 

“Ah!” the boy pulled away, pain twisting his features. Sango pulled back.

 

“How?” The tears dripped from her voice.

 

“I don't know.” Kohaku's voice was shaky. “I woke up and found those footprints.” He moved his head carefully back in the direction from which they had come. “I followed them here, to the houshi.” He glanced up at Miroku with unreadable eyes.

 

“I thought you were dead.” Sango was crying now, clearly confused. “I can't believe it.” She took his good hand in hers. “This is so wonderful.” She actually laughed a little, beginning to imagine the life she'd never dared hope for and more recently begun to grieve. Miroku felt another twinge and tried to think of something to distract her. He felt the irrational need to warn her somehow, and was confused, wondering if his tiny little jealousy was coming forth despite all his attempts to deny its existence entirely. Uncertain, he remained silent.

 

“Ane-ue,” Kohaku had that sad sound in his voice that broke both their hearts, “I want you to do something for me.” Miroku felt dread coming over him. “Kill me.” Her head snapped up to look at him. “Please, kill me.”

 

“No!” Her voice was shrill with a tinge of panic. “What are you asking?” She actually moved away from him a bit, a pained expression on her face. The boy's response was to let the blanket fall from his shoulders and twist so she could see his back and the awkward angle of his shoulder as it hung limply from his body. She recoiled, but held a hand out to him. “No, Kohaku. We'll find a way to heal you.”

 

“No.” he said and now it was the anguish in his voice that pulled at them both. “I can't ever heal.” Tears came into his eyes. “I can't forget now. Father…” His tears spilled down from his good eye and his sobs wracked them all with grief. “I was supposed to die.” He mumbled through the tears. “I didn't want to live.” He collapsed onto her arm as she reached for him. “Please? Please kill me?”

 

Sango was sobbing too as she held him. Miroku's heart ached again, the shouki pain and the emotional torture of the scene twisting in him to make him want to lash out, make this nightmare stop. But instead of heeding his desire, the torment deepened as he saw Kohaku's hand reach for the blade at Sango's waist.

 

“Stop!” the houshi managed to yell, just as the boy's fingers grasped the hilt. “Sango, stop him!”

 

She looked up at him, almost as if seeing him for the first time since her return. Unclear about what he was talking about, she did not react fast enough and Kohaku pulled the sword from its scabbard. Ice cold fear sliced through Miroku as the blade glinted in the sun, just above Sango's head. Sango did react then, out of sheer instinct, and moved to block the boy's arm, although it hadn't moved.

 

“Kohaku!” she said breathlessly, scared and confused. “What are you doing?”

 

“Doing what you don't have the courage to do.” The boys' face had taken on a malicious expression. “I want it to end! I want the pain to go away!” He tried to bring the blade down but at the angle he held it, it would have to slice through Sango to get to his own body.

 

She managed to keep his arm aloft, but it was a struggle. How had he retained that much strength in his condition? Miroku ignored the pain in his heart and his hip and hoisted himself up, dragging himself towards them. Sango used both arms and managed to push the blade down to the ground, crying out at the tortured expression on Kohaku's face as his arm bent. Miroku stepped on the sword's flat side with his sandal and Sango loosened the boy's fingers from its hilt pulling the weapon away and handing it to Miroku.

 

Kohaku had collapsed in a heap, crying and sobbing, the ugly wound on his back facing up to the sky. It had begun to ooze puss again with the movement and its stench reached them both. All Miroku could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, pulsing the pain from his chest into his head and his limbs. It was beginning to roil his stomach. Sango sat in shock. Just as she reached for her brother again, they both heard a noise on the wind, a familiar roar, and looked to see Kilala descend over the trees, InuYasha on her back with Kagome nestled in front of him. Relief flooded Miroku and he collapsed to the ground next to Sango and Kohaku's heaving form.

 

++++++++

 

Even before Kilala's feet touched the ground, InuYasha had jumped off her, carrying Kagome, who was pale, but recovered enough to carry her bow and a determined expression on her face. InuYasha placed her gently on the ground. Unable to stand, he helped her sit and then both the hanyou and the big cat approached the three by the fire, growling.

 

“Get away from that thing!” InuYasha said and drew Tetsusaiga.

 

“What are you talking about?” Sango was confused and angry now. “Kohaku needs our help! Kagome! Can you heal him?” She pleaded.

 

“No.” Kagome's voice was steady. “He cannot be healed here.”

 

“Sango!” InuYasha let Miroku lean on him as the houshi moved away. “That is not Kohaku.”

 

Miroku limped over to sit heavily by Kagome, still holding Sango's sword in his hand. Kagome put her hand on him and he felt a rush of healing energy move into his leg, but not his heart.

 

“What?” Sango turned to look at her brother with new comprehension, remembering the story Miroku had told her about a remnant of Naraku's corpse haunting the houshi and the hanyou while she took Kagome for healing. “No! That can't be true…” her statement was a plea, a wish given to an unseen audience. It held no conviction, only hope.

 

“Sango,” Miroku's voice was very sad, “I think InuYasha is right.” He hesitated and then pulled his robes back to reveal the bruised flesh around his heart. “It came back this morning right before… he… showed up.”

 

“Of course I'm right!” InuYasha hadn't taken his eyes off the Kohaku figure. “I could smell him before we even landed.” Kilala growled in agreement. They were all quiet for a moment, waiting for Sango to say something.

 

“I know. You're right.” Sango dropped her head, nodding it to the ground. She was on the verge of tears and they had to strain to hear her whisper. “I couldn't find his body in the snow. I believed…” she sniffed, “I wanted to believe he'd survived. But I knew when the battle was over that there was no way he could have… lived.”

 

“It's those fucking feet!” InuYasha was mad at himself now. “When this thing came at us before, I hacked off its feet and threw them away. They reformed into this disgusting thing!” He advanced. “Sango, get back!”

 

“No!” Kohaku lurched forward and managed to grab at Sango's leg, trying to pull her back to him. “Ane-ue!” His cry was that of a wounded child who didn't understand what had hurt him or how so much pain could possibly exist. “Don't leave me! Just… just kill me, please!” Sango struggled to loosen its grasp and they all heard the sobs she pushed out with the effort.

 

“I'll kill you, you miserable piece of shit!” InuYasha advanced, reaching down to grab Sango's arm and yank her away, lifting her fully off the ground and to her feet with one smooth motion of his arm. Kohaku's body lay on the ground, his horrible wound exposed.

Sango held onto InuYasha's arm for a moment, steadying herself but when he moved forward to raise the Tetsusiaga, she reached to pull his arm and the sword back down.

“InuYasha, please,” her tone was deeply sad. “Wait just a minute.” Turning to look at the twisted apparition of her brother, lying on the ground, she spoke. “You're not Kohaku, are you?” The thing was silent.

 

“Answer her, you asshole!” InuYasha's temper was running high.

 

“I'm your fears for him,” the thing rose now, standing Kohaku's injured form as though not a wound affected it. “So, yes, I am him.” It took a step towards Sango and InuYasha. “And I do want you to kill me.” InuYasha started to growl. “I want you to stab him and feel the pain of his death fresh and anew, so you never forget the suffering you caused him.”

 

“Shut up!” InuYasha shouldered in front of Sango, holding Tetsusaiga only inches away from the thing. “I'm not going to let you keep coming back with this twisted mindfuck of yours!” He started to move forward, but again, Sango reached out to stop him, putting her hand on his sword arm and trying to get him to lower it. InuYasha didn't lower his weapon, but he did stop his advance.

 

“Wait,” Sango said again. “Let me do it.”

 

InuYasha looked at her, surprised. “But you can't.” He shot a look of pure hatred at Kohaku's body. “It will just keep reforming. I need to use Tetsusaiga.”

 

“She can do it,” Kagome spoke from behind them with a new formality to her tone, causing both Sango and InuYasha to cock their heads, trying to look at her without looking away from the Kohaku thing.

 

“What?” InuYasha's anger had not abated.

 

“What do you mean, Kagome?” Sango asked.

 

“With your sword.” Kagome held up Sango's sword which she had taken from Miroku. “Wish for Kohaku's release, and your sword can destroy him.”

 

“Kagome, are you sure?” InuYasha looked like he was itching for a big, nasty fight.

 

“Yes.” Kagome said calmly. “I gave her sword the same blessing I gave Tetsusaiga, InuYasha. This nightmare has sought out Sango and so she is the best of us to remove it from the earth.” She held up the sword in her hands and Sango backed towards her, only turning her back on Kohaku once InuYasha stood between the two of them.

 

“Thank you, Kagome.” Sango lifted the sword ceremoniously from her outstretched hands and returned to take up a stance next to InuYasha and Kilala.

 

“You can't kill me, bitch!” All traces of Sango's twelve year old brother had left the thing standing before them, except for his body, and a ghost of Naraku's smooth, vicious voice came from it now. “I'm alive in you all.” The sneer on his face was meant to chill them and it worked. Sango hesitated. Suddenly, the monster reached out and grabbed the blade of Sango's sword, pulling it into its body. The sword penetrated, but no blood flowed and the thing just laughed a cruel, ringing sound, like metal on rock. “See? Stab me all you want! It won't do a fucking thing.” It started to pull the sword more deeply into it, forcing Sango to take a step closer.

 

Sango made a strangled sound of frustration and fear.

 

InuYasha was through with this stupidity and lifted Tetsusaiga once again, filling himself with powerful energy intended to cleanse the world of this abomination. Youki wind began to swirl around Tetsusaiga until, once again he felt a restraining hand on his shoulder and he turned an exasperated face to find Miroku holding him back, eyes fixed on Sango. InuYasha let him pass, but kept himself ready to intervene.

 

“Sango,” Miroku spoke softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I…“ Sango's shoulders were trembling. “I can't do it.” They heard a sob and knew tears were flowing.

 

“Yes you can.” Miroku spoke with confidence. “I'll help you.” He put an arm around her shoulders, both to comfort her and to support himself on his wounded leg. His other arm reached down to put his hand over hers as they gripped the sword's hilt.

 

“You bastard houshi,” the Kohaku thing growled. “You're just jealous of me, that's all. You just want her all to yourself, don't you?”

 

“What?” Sango said, confused again.

“No,” Miroku said calmly. “I want Sango to be happy and I know that as long as you torment her, she will not be able to grieve her real brother who gave his life to save her.”

 

Sango took a deep breath as Miroku's words hung in the clearing, touching them all.

 

“You're right, houshi-sama.” Sango stood up taller, even though her voice was still faint, and she tightened her grip on the sword. I need to do this for you, to heal you finally. She took another deep breath, her voice lowering to an angry whisper. “I can put you down, because I love my brother. To honor him, you must die.” And I know I'll see him again... I already have, she thought to herself, remembering the smiling boy in her dream that morning.

 

With Miroku's hand over hers, she withdrew her blade from the beast's body in front of her. Taking a deep breath and gathering her strength, she brought it down firmly on what looked to everyone's eyes like Kohaku's pleading face. As the blade touched it, the thing dissolved in a shower of purple sparks until nothing was left but the sadness echoing in Sango's soft weeping. Miroku leaned against her, comforting her even as she supported him.

 

++++++++++++++

 

They sat together and InuYasha related the fate of the jewel, Kagome having taken it into her body again in order to live and become a full miko. After this explanation, the hanyou had looked at Kagome and met her eyes in such a way that Miroku and Sango both felt there was more to the story, but they independently concluded that it didn't really matter whether they knew the details. Kagome had clearly come into more of her spiritual power and there was a calm and peace between their friends that they'd never felt before, and they both found it comforting after their recent ordeal.

 

As evening drew close, they sat by the fire resting their bodies and spirits in each other's company. InuYasha had gone hunting and brought back a few small rabbits to stake over the fire. Miroku sipped at the new healing drink that Kagome had brought him. The girls both smiled with him when he showed the clear skin on his chest and hand, completely free of the hated shouki stains. InuYasha just grunted. “Good. Now you'll be more use in a fight,” the hanyou said, and then he cocked his mouth in a smirk.

 

“Maybe,” said Miroku. “But I can't clean up after you any more, so you'd better stop making such a mess.” They all laughed, even InuYasha.

 

“Is that thing really done haunting us?” Miroku asked the flames once night had fallen and they'd finished eating. Sango just stared into the fire, her eyes focused on the burning embers glowing beneath the dancing flames.

 

“I sniffed around pretty much everywhere when I was hunting,” InuYasha said, as he looked up at Kagome, interested in her reaction. “I didn't smell anything else like it.”

 

“Naraku is gone.” Kagome spoke definitively, looking at Sango. “Just like Kohaku,” she shifted her eyes to InuYasha, “and Kikyou and Kouga, even Naraku has moved on.” She sighed as though weary. “But there will be others.”

 

“There always are,” InuYasha said sourly and tossed another branch into the orange blaze. “No end of assholes around here.” There were general noises of agreement and the conversation died down a bit until Sango spoke up.

 

“I don't think I ever want to fight anything as hard as we fought Naraku.” Everyone but InuYasha nodded.

 

“What about you, InuYasha?” Miroku asked. “Are you going to go looking for the next big, bad ugly oni?”

 

“Nah,” InuYasha looked away, his eyes reflective, “I didn't even want to get involved in Naraku until I had reason, and the reason's done with.” He glanced briefly at Kagome and caught her eye. “But something tells me the fights are gonna' keep findin' me.” Kagome's face became sad, even as her nod agreed with him.

 

They were silent for a while longer, each staring at something that captivated their attention. Sango continued to look into the fire and InuYasha watched Kagome, who stared at the stars twinkling through the trees. Miroku fixed his eyes on his bare palm, unprotected and open to the night.

 

Before long all of them had lain down to sleep. Miroku and Sango curled into Kilala's solid warmth, facing each other but not touching. When InuYasha laid behind Kagome, spooning her with his warm body and fire-rat sleeve, the subtle changes in their nighttime arrangements were noted by all, but were comforting and so no words were said.

 

Early in the morning hours, InuYasha awoke to find himself pushing hard into Kagome's rear and rose as quietly as he could to place more logs on the fire and adjust his hakama pants. As he came back to her, he noticed she was awake. He smiled at her when her eyes gleamed at him in the firelight.

 

“Hey,” he said without an apology, even as a warm blush spread across his cheeks, “can't keep a good hanyou down, you know.” When she broke into a full grin, he snuggled up to her again and enjoyed a little press until she giggled. They were quiet for a few minutes, eyes open and staring at their friends across the firelight.

 

“Will Sango be okay?” InuYasha wondered quietly in Kagome's ear. “Even Naraku's trash can do a number on you.” Kagome recognized the voice of experience.

 

“Yes,” Kagome said a little less quietly. “The spell I put on her sword wouldn't have worked if both of them hadn't wanted what was best for Kohaku's soul, and for each other. That's an important beginning to the healing, to wish for another's well-being.”

 

“Keh,” InuYasha breathed, remembering his own pleas for Kagome's life only a day ago.

 

“They're very courageous,” Kagome said. “They'll be fine.” She smiled to herself when she saw her friends blink and move their hands together.

 

Kagome sighed. “We have to leave again soon, InuYasha.”

 

He groaned faintly. “Tell me there's not another Naraku already.”

 

“There are so many…” Kagome said just as faintly, “but we don't have to fight them all.”

 

“We don't?” InuYasha couldn't make up his mind about whether this would be good news or not.

 

“No, we don't,” her voice was weary, “we just have to help the ones already fighting them.”

 

“Keh!” he said, thinking this over. “Well, I'm taking my sword anyway.”

 

Kagome smiled and snuggled more deeply into his warmth.

 

THE END