InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Mating Season ❯ Kichiro ( Chapter 84 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: SplendentGoddess 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 04.04.2007 | Updated On: 08.21.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 4.9K | Visits: 8.4K | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 04.04.2007 | Updated On: 08.21.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 4.9K | Visits: 8.4K | Status: Completed
Blanket Disclaimer:
Inuyasha, and the characters therein, are the property of Rumiko Takahashi. I am in no way affiliated with Takahashi, or VIZ Productions.
========================
Chapter 84 - Kichiro
The night air was cold and still. Everything was quiet. It was the type of night one would expect to be broken only by the sounds of a ticking grandfather clock, except no such technology had yet been invented.
Sango still slept, and that was a good thing, Kagome decided, otherwise she would undoubtedly be in immense pain. The tea she drank had slowed her heart, and in turn, had also slowed her bleeding. Hopefully, that fact, along with the new blood she had received from her brother, would be enough to aid her in pulling through. While Kagome was worried, as she had been when Inuyasha once shared similar circumstances, Sango’s heart had not gone into cardiac arrest. Her friend was strong. At least, as the evil doubt within Kagome’s mind taunted her, her friend had been strong. To look at the slayer now, so pale, so clammy, Kagome had never seen Sango look weaker. She could not help the screaming she felt within her own heart, that she do something…although the futuristic miko knew that there was nothing more she could do.
Without the proper equipment, Kagome had had a great deal of difficulty controlling Sango’s bleeding while stitching her up, but there was only so much blood they could safely pull from Kohaku without putting him at risk, as well. Were Sango going to die from blood loss, though, she would have done so by now, Kagome’s optimism chimed in. Still, the fact remained that Sango was terribly low on blood, as was young Kohaku for the time being, but while she knew that the lad would recuperate in a day or so, his older sister was another story.
Kagome was paranoid that she hadn’t been completely successful with keeping everything sterilized during the surgery. What if Sango developed an infection? What if she developed a fever? Quickly feeling her temperature again, it was warm, but not dangerously so. She was so pale… But there was nobody else in the village that could safely donate their blood to the slayer, with Kagome having no way of testing for blood types. She’d had a tough time explaining that to Miroku, though, when the monk had insisted he could give his own lifeblood to help aid his wife in the same way her younger brother had already done. Kagome had hated to turn him down, but explained that she simply couldn’t risk it. If their blood types didn’t match, Sango’s body would try to fight off the invading blood, and with as weak as she already was, that mistake could very well lead to a fatal outcome. She didn’t feel it was necessary for Miroku to know that she had actually taken a gamble on Kohaku’s blood being a match, even though the odds were greatly in their favor. But the fact of the matter was that without that blood transfusion, Sango would have surely died, so it was actually a risk that she’d had no choice in taking.
Now, Kagome was standing vigil, unwilling to leave her friend’s side for anything, not even her own family. Inuyasha understood, though, and spent most of his time in the hut as well, as his place was at his mate’s side, no matter where she happened to be. When he’d left her only briefly, to carry a dizzy Kohaku back home, he had been surprised, but also somewhat understanding, in having found Shippo and Kazuki over at Miroku’s house. No wonder Emi had stopped crying, the hanyou mused, having wondered what on earth, besides his son, could have possibly calmed the frantic toddler during her earlier upset. Upon seeing their worried glances regarding the appearance of the slightly out-of-it teenage boy, Inuyasha had launched into a quick explanation of what had been required of the lad. That was when the monk had returned with him briefly, to plead his own assistance, which Kagome had mournfully rejected.
Shippo decided to stay over at Miroku’s for the time being, as Kazuki’s presence seemed to be the only thing preventing Emi from continuing to scream her head off, though the child still become inconsolable for the few minutes Miroku had been away. Apparently, it took both Miroku and Kazuki for Emi to stop her crying, as the one and a half year old clung desperately to her father, while listening to the growls and yips of her friend. Remarkably enough, Kazuki never once started his own fussing, asking for his mother, or wishing to stay with his father, when Inuyasha had stopped in so briefly. Kazuki was fully focused on the upset toddler sitting in her father’s lap a few feet away, only wishing to stop the horrible scent of fear that continually flowed from her like a fountain. Everyone else smelled of fear too, but for some reason, he could not stand for that scent to be coming from her.
Miroku wanted nothing more than to also be at Sango’s side, but knew he could not leave Emi alone with Kohaku and Shippo, lest she start crying again, yet at the same time, he also knew that he didn’t dare bring Emi with him to Kaede’s. The child had been haunted enough by the images of her dreams; she didn’t need to see it in real life. Reluctantly, the monk settled for the knowledge that Sango was still fighting, and he trusted Inuyasha to inform him immediately if her situation changed in the slightest. He was beyond grateful for all that they’d done for his wife, having been told what had been the problem regarding her labor, and also knowing that under any other circumstances, such a tragedy would have guaranteed both her death, as well as the death of his son.
His son. He had a son. He had taken a moment to hold the infant briefly, when Kaede had explained to him that all was not lost, and that even if Sango should not pull through, her sacrifice was not in vain. They had saved her child, his child. His best friends…who had saved his own life in battle countless times - around as many times as he had also saved theirs…he was now forever in their debt.
“I name you Kichiro.” he whispered to his son, while holding him close.
Those in the hut with demonic hearing had heard the man’s proclamation, and had offered him the tiniest of smiles in understanding. Lucky Son was definitely a fitting name.
Miroku was pulled from his thoughts when the reed doormat was suddenly shoved aside, as a frantic Inuyasha quickly stormed into the hut.
“What is it?!” he asked anxiously, the girl he cradled already starting to whimper anew from sensing his agitation.
“Come on.” was all he said, as he quickly plucked his friend’s daughter from his arms, while simultaneously yanking him to his feet. Inuyasha handed the now crying Emi to Kohaku, who briefly flashed him a look stating I understand as he held his niece, while Miroku was virtually dragged out of the hut.
``````````````````````````````````````````
He hated this. While it was his swiftest method of transportation, at least while in his human form, Sesshoumaru could not help but to feel that his energy cloud was being unbearably slow, at the moment. He also hated that he could still not, for the life of him, successfully pinpoint what it was that he had felt was the problem, in the first place.
Inuyasha was distressed. So what? Why should he care?
Okay…so that was the old Sesshoumaru talking, he relented. He knew that it was his place to ‘care’ now, whether or not his half-brother was well. But Sesshoumaru didn’t honestly feel as though anything was physically wrong with Inuyasha…not that he had truly ever had such a bond with the hanyou before. He had certainly never received any signals from him in the past, and he couldn’t fathom why he was receiving such a strong intuition on the subject now. But one thing Sesshoumaru prided himself on was possessing no doubts. He was always certain, in everything he did. No decision was made in haste, and no plan of action was ever regretted. While he would begrudgingly admit that he was confused, as he did not fully understand the reasoning behind the feelings he was receiving, he had no doubt regarding their authenticity.
Inuyasha was distressed.
So what did it mean? Was there perhaps something wrong with his mate? Or another immediate member of his pack? His pup? He would find out soon…though not soon enough, the Taiyoukai growled to himself, wondering for the fifth time if he should merely transform himself into his true form. Though somehow, he doubted the puny human village his half-brother called home would truly appreciate being awoken in the middle of the night by a giant youkai dog-descending within their grounds.
Still…
Inuyasha was distressed, and it was…unsettling.
`````````````````````````````````
I nuyasha unconsciously tightened his grip of Tetsusaiga’s scabbard as he held the sheathed blade against his shoulder, while he sat in the far corner of the hut, feeling about as useless as ever. Perhaps if his eyes had not been pinched tightly closed, he would have noticed the faint glowing that emanated from the tiny silver strands that were incorporated within its wood. But as it was, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes, lest he allow tears to escape them. They had failed.
Sango had developed a high fever, and all the “modern” medical knowledge in the world could do nothing for her…because she wouldn’t wake up. The sleep aid they had given Sango was not designed to last this long. She should be awake by now. It had quickly become apparent that the reason she still slept was because she was unconscious due to her current condition, but with no other method of the time for administering medication, the tea they had prepared for reducing her fever had to be drank.
How the hell was she supposed to drink the medicine Kagome had mixed for her, if she wouldn’t wake up?!?!
At first Kagome had mumbled something about longing for IVs and antibiotics, but she’d quickly dismissed the notion when her mate had inquired further, stating that even if, in theory, Myouga could serve by injecting Sango with the medicine, she didn’t have the proper medicine to begin with. Kagome certainly wasn’t about to start injecting her friend with mystery drugs concocted from 16th century teas meant for drinking. She wasn’t that stupid.
They had attempted to coax some of the liquid down Sango’s throat, but her body was apparently so exhausted that her physical reflex to swallow was not up to par, and they couldn’t risk accidentally drowning the poor woman, so they’d stopped. As horrible as it sounded to someone from a medical science point of view, all that there was left to do, was pray.
Kagome also maintained hope that, perhaps, hearing Miroku’s voice would help Sango to pull through. As soon as Inuyasha had returned with the ex-monk, she had quickly explained the situation at hand, and for the last hour or so, Miroku had been steadily begging his wife to come back to him, to wake up. If Sango could wake up, even if only for a minute or two, just long enough to drink the tea, that would greatly increase her chances of survival.
In the mean time, Kagome did all that she could to combat Sango’s fever from the outside-in. She gave Miroku a steady supply of cool rags to apply to her forehead, Kaede having taken the time to wash the blood out of her rags while Kichiro slept. With a washcloth of her own, Kagome also continually cleansed the area around Sango’s sutures, using a bar of modern soap and warm water to assure the tender wound remained clean. But the area was growing more and more angry looking as time progressed, pink, swollen, and hot, which was not a good combination of words to use, at least when describing a surgical wound. At least Kagome knew enough about white blood cells to know that Sango needed every single one she had, rather than allowing the medical knowledge of the time to “bleed” the fever out of her. That would have killed her for sure.
Kaede had also pointed out that Kichiro would need to be fed. The infant had fortunately gone to sleep without issue right after his birth, but was now starting to fuss. Kagome didn’t believe that having Mother breast-feed her own infant would be dangerous by that point, especially considering that they knew for a fact that the sleep tea they’d given to Sango was long out of her system. While Sango’s body was fighting off the onset of a physical infection, it certainly wasn’t anything that had already spread throughout her entire body, and should not affect her milk yet in the slightest. That hypothesis was confirmed when Kagome had Inuyasha inspect said milk with his nose, which was more powerful than her own enhanced sense of smell, just to be on the safe side. Once it was confirmed that Sango’s milk was harmless, everyone agreed that the child should at least be granted one meal from his mother’s own breast, before substitute milk may have to be found.
Realizing that his voice alone didn’t seem to be working, Miroku also hoped that, perhaps, upon registering the sensation of her infant suckling against her breast, Sango’s maternal instincts would kick in, assisting her body with combating whatever ailed her, under the realization that her son needed her to live. Her son, and her daughter, needed her to live. Her son, daughter, and husband, needed her to live.
Sango had been loosely wrapped in a sleeping yukata, warm blankets pulled up around her mid-section, as Miroku carefully placed himself beside her on the futon, careful not to physically touch her because of her overly sensitive injuries. That was how he had found himself thinking of her current physical condition. She had injuries, just like any other, that anyone may incur, at any time. He and Sango had both been injured before, repeatedly. She was a youkai slayer for crying out loud. Then surely she could heal from her current injuries, right? Surely a little thing like being ripped open couldn’t be that serious, especially not when someone as kind and loving as Kagome had taken her time with delicately stitching the injuries back together. Nodding in hopeful denial regarding Emi’s literal words, as Mommy was simply hurt, Miroku convinced himself that his wife would be getting better, as he slowly, carefully, placed Kichiro at his mother’s breast. Kirara, who had once again been sitting in a quiet corner of the hut, though that time not by herself, took that moment to shake the flea-youkai off her head, before carefully joining her mistress along side the monk.
Myouga muttered something about injustice to the elderly, before he found his way to Inuyasha’s shoulder, the hanyou doing good to ignore him, even when he felt the tell tale prick in the side of his neck. But even Myouga knew that that was no time for his usual antics, and after a small meal, he settled down rather humbly, in apparent meditation. The foreign aura he felt from Tetsusaiga had not gone unnoticed, but he decided there was no point in raising everyone’s hopes prematurely. If it meant what he thought it meant, they would all find out soon enough.
Kagome, her attention unwavering from the futon where her friend lay possibly dying, looked on with a deep pain in her heart. Miroku had never looked more in love, as he aided Sango’s body with feeding their son, as he held Kichiro in place. Sango almost looked to be merely asleep. The scene would have almost looked touching, if she didn’t know the true depths of Sango’s ‘injuries’. While she, too, was attempting to cling onto whatever little hope still remained that Sango was simply too stubborn to let herself die, Kagome could not help but to recall the look in her friend’s eyes mere moments before slipping into unconsciousness. The look Sango had given her had not been the look of someone begging you to save their life. Sango had been begging her sister and best friend to save the life of her baby.
“We did it, Sango…” Kagome whispered quietly, so quietly that even Inuyasha had missed it, as distracted as he was with thoughts of their failure. Even the scent of Kagome’s tears went unnoticed. “We saved your son.”
``````````````````````````````````
Emi eventually cried herself back to sleep. With as little sleep as the toddler had gotten that night, they doubted she would be waking back up any time soon. Hopefully, her nightmares would leave her in peace, as well.
Shippo suggested to Kohaku that he also try to get some rest, but the teenager quickly shook his head, stating: “I cannot sleep, when I do not know if I shall ever see my sister again.”
Shippo understood what he was going through, all too well.
“Well then, why don’t you go?” the kitsune said with an air of maturity the human youth wasn’t used to hearing from the youkai child. But then again, they hadn’t previously been the closest of companions.
“What about Emi?” Kohaku asked, thinking of how Miroku had placed him in charge of his niece earlier that day.
“I can handle Emi if she wakes back up.” Shippo assured, quickly popping into a flawless replication of Miroku, minus the twin tails that stuck out from his backside, which the toddler hopefully wouldn’t notice. Not that Shippo would share with Kohaku how he’d gotten so good at duplicating his brother-in-law’s image, knowing that the stories of him training with his sister would only cause the human boy more pain at the moment.
Nodding, Kohaku rose on shaky legs, still feeling a little lightheaded as he left the hut without another word, though his eyes had shown with gratitude. Shippo waited until he was sure the boy was out of hearing range, before quietly whispering “Gods’ speed.”
Leaving his scent alone, knowing that Emi’s ridiculously weak human nose would not be able to tell the difference, while at the same time knowing that Kazuki’s would, and he’d better not allow his sleeping brother to believe he had suddenly left him alone, Shippo decided to try and see if he could get any amount of sleep himself on that night, or at the very least, a few minutes of resting with his eyes closed. It never even occurred to the kit that he was once again alone, himself, save for the children, as he had originally sought out adult companionship in his desire to not be alone. But somewhere along the way, he’d subconsciously realized that he wasn’t the one who truly felt alone. He wasn’t the one who was possibly losing his sister…or his…mate. He shuddered at the thought.
````````````````````````````````
Sometimes, she hated the feudal era.
Pacing back and forth in Kaede’s hut, Kagome barely registered the quiet mutters of her mate, as Inuyasha continued to sit in the corner. Kichiro had fallen back asleep, and Miroku held the infant tenderly, while continuing to pray over his wife’s side. He had given up speaking directly to Sango, and now, he was speaking to the kami themselves.
Kagome didn’t have a thermometer, not that she needed one to know that Sango’s fever was high. Her cheeks were flush, her lips were pale, and her brow was sweaty. She felt as hot to the touch as a bad sunburn Kagome recalled from summers passed, and she still wouldn’t wake up. They had managed to carefully coax another small amount of tea down her throat, but they were sure it wouldn’t be enough. At that point, it looked as though only divine intervention could save her. Kagome had lost track of the number of times she had been in a similar situation with her husband, during his human nights, but there was one colossal difference here… Sango didn’t have to hang on only until sunrise to ensure her survival. She had no dormant youkai blood within her system that would guarantee her full recovery upon its return.
Kagome had gotten so used to the healing properties of those with demonic blood, herself included, that the miko found herself gaping in horror at how, hours later, Sango didn’t appear to have healed at all. She couldn’t really blame her mate’s past words regarding ‘weak’ humans, when she thought about it from that point of view. Humans were weak. But for a human, Sango was strong, Kagome reminded herself, in the simple fact that she was still alive.
She’s still alive… She’s still alive… the miko repeated to herself like a mantra. Taking another deep whiff of the air surrounding her friend, she grimaced, but…while she was still alive, there was still hope, right?
Miroku didn’t need a demonic sense of smell to feel the way his wife’s aura was slowly slipping away, but his faith would not permit him to give up hope while there still appeared to be even the smallest of chances. Trying to orchestrate a group prayer, he said it was up to the gods, but while Kaede and Kagome had both decidedly agreed to join his prayers, the angry protests from a distressed hanyou brought the activity to a screeching halt.
“Like the gods truly give a rat’s ass about anything that happens to humans!” he snapped from his corner. “Aren’t these the same beings who supposedly allowed this to happen to her in the first place? If Sango’s gonna survive this, it’s up to Sango.”
Inuyasha had decades of personal experience when it came to prayers not being answered, and he had learned quickly that whenever in a situation of life vs. death, you had no one to rely on but yourself. He knew his own situation had changed slightly in recent years. He knew he now had people who truly cared about him, who cared for him when he was injured, but old habits died hard. Besides, if he didn’t keep up the façade of cruel indifference, he was likely to become a whimpering mass of depression, just like Sango’s husband. The woman was dying from wounds he’d inflicted on her, after all, and the hanyou could not help the incredible waves of guilt he felt every time her unconscious form shuddered from the pain. He kept trying to tell himself over and over again that she would have died anyway, and that what they’d done was necessary to save the baby, but still…
Miroku’s soft words brought him back from his descending spiral.
“You are right, of course, my friend.” the monk said calmly, “Sango’s will to live is a crucial factor here. But I have faith that the gods will not turn a deaf ear to our pleas.” Crouching down, Miroku was careful of the sleeping bundle he held, as he placed one hand upon Inuyasha’s knee, “Even should this not turn out the way we hope…thank you, Inuyasha…for saving my son’s life.”
Said hanyou glanced up at the man above him through the curtain of his bangs, keeping his face down in the hopes of shielding his eyes from view, but Miroku could still see the tear tracks on his cheeks.
“Keh.” was all he managed to say in response.
Everyone looked up then, as the doormat suddenly moved aside. Seeing who stood shakily in her doorway, Kaede quickly offered a steady hand for Kohaku to grasp, while she assisted the youth in settling down upon the nearest futon.
The boy-turned-man suddenly found himself at a loss for words, but his eyes seemed to ask the unnerving question “How is she?” It was Kagome who decided to answer the unasked query.
“She’s still fighting.” she said behind a mask of confidence, placing a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.
Struggling back to his feet then, Kagome sensed his intentions and helped him up, then helped him move over towards his sister’s side. The look of horror adorning Kohaku’s face was surely only matched by the time he had awoken after slaughtering his entire family under Naraku’s control.
“Did I…fail her?” he managed to squeak out in merely a whisper.
Fortunately, Kagome had heard him, and without hesitation answered matter-of-factly with “Absolutely not. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have made it this far.”
His frown seemed to lessen at that news, but it still did not upturn on the edges enough to be considered a smile.
Another moan escaped the slayer’s lips in her sleep, earning the pained cry of “Ane-ue!” to burst forth from Kohaku’s. Miroku came up from behind the youth, and after quickly passing off his burden, he embraced his young brother-in-law’s shoulders with firm, understanding hands.
Kagome, while currently holding little Kichiro, tried to give the family some semblance of privacy, as she joined her mate in the corner.
“She’s not gonna pull through, you know…” Inuyasha whispered to her quietly, ensuring the others in the hut didn’t hear.
“I know…” she whispered in return, unable to stop her tears from falling. They had both first detected the horrid stench of death encroaching upon their friend two hours ago. She was definitely dying.
“There’s nothing even the gods can do now.” he mumbled, glancing through his bangs at the fragile infant Kagome held in her tender grasp. Reaching across ever so carefully, Inuyasha gently rubbed the back of his fingers across the small tuft of sable hair adorning the baby’s head.
Looking across at Inuyasha, really looking at him full on for the first time in hours, Kagome suddenly noticed the odd shimmer encompassing Tetsusaiga’s scabbard. After carefully shifting the baby in her grasp, she reached forward, and wrapped her tiny fingers around the sheathed blade, concentrating. Inuyasha stared at his mate questioningly, before he too suddenly noticed what had caught her attention. Concentrating on Tetsusaiga’s scabbard, they both tried desperately to put into the back of their thoughts the situation at hand, which until that moment had understandably acted as quite the distraction. It was Kagome who first ventured a fragile smile, as her eyes once again met Inuyasha’s, as they stared at each other knowingly. A very strong demonic aura was headed their way, rather swiftly, and they both knew without a doubt whose it was. The confirming nod they suddenly received from Myouga only sealed the deal.
“Perhaps the gods can’t do anything.” Kagome conceded, “But we know someone who is even more powerful.”
Inuyasha just shook his head, a tiny glimmer of hope placing itself in his eyes. How had his brother sensed that his presence was needed? Maybe the gods had actually listened to their prayers, after all.
Inuyasha, and the characters therein, are the property of Rumiko Takahashi. I am in no way affiliated with Takahashi, or VIZ Productions.
========================
Chapter 84 - Kichiro
The night air was cold and still. Everything was quiet. It was the type of night one would expect to be broken only by the sounds of a ticking grandfather clock, except no such technology had yet been invented.
Sango still slept, and that was a good thing, Kagome decided, otherwise she would undoubtedly be in immense pain. The tea she drank had slowed her heart, and in turn, had also slowed her bleeding. Hopefully, that fact, along with the new blood she had received from her brother, would be enough to aid her in pulling through. While Kagome was worried, as she had been when Inuyasha once shared similar circumstances, Sango’s heart had not gone into cardiac arrest. Her friend was strong. At least, as the evil doubt within Kagome’s mind taunted her, her friend had been strong. To look at the slayer now, so pale, so clammy, Kagome had never seen Sango look weaker. She could not help the screaming she felt within her own heart, that she do something…although the futuristic miko knew that there was nothing more she could do.
Without the proper equipment, Kagome had had a great deal of difficulty controlling Sango’s bleeding while stitching her up, but there was only so much blood they could safely pull from Kohaku without putting him at risk, as well. Were Sango going to die from blood loss, though, she would have done so by now, Kagome’s optimism chimed in. Still, the fact remained that Sango was terribly low on blood, as was young Kohaku for the time being, but while she knew that the lad would recuperate in a day or so, his older sister was another story.
Kagome was paranoid that she hadn’t been completely successful with keeping everything sterilized during the surgery. What if Sango developed an infection? What if she developed a fever? Quickly feeling her temperature again, it was warm, but not dangerously so. She was so pale… But there was nobody else in the village that could safely donate their blood to the slayer, with Kagome having no way of testing for blood types. She’d had a tough time explaining that to Miroku, though, when the monk had insisted he could give his own lifeblood to help aid his wife in the same way her younger brother had already done. Kagome had hated to turn him down, but explained that she simply couldn’t risk it. If their blood types didn’t match, Sango’s body would try to fight off the invading blood, and with as weak as she already was, that mistake could very well lead to a fatal outcome. She didn’t feel it was necessary for Miroku to know that she had actually taken a gamble on Kohaku’s blood being a match, even though the odds were greatly in their favor. But the fact of the matter was that without that blood transfusion, Sango would have surely died, so it was actually a risk that she’d had no choice in taking.
Now, Kagome was standing vigil, unwilling to leave her friend’s side for anything, not even her own family. Inuyasha understood, though, and spent most of his time in the hut as well, as his place was at his mate’s side, no matter where she happened to be. When he’d left her only briefly, to carry a dizzy Kohaku back home, he had been surprised, but also somewhat understanding, in having found Shippo and Kazuki over at Miroku’s house. No wonder Emi had stopped crying, the hanyou mused, having wondered what on earth, besides his son, could have possibly calmed the frantic toddler during her earlier upset. Upon seeing their worried glances regarding the appearance of the slightly out-of-it teenage boy, Inuyasha had launched into a quick explanation of what had been required of the lad. That was when the monk had returned with him briefly, to plead his own assistance, which Kagome had mournfully rejected.
Shippo decided to stay over at Miroku’s for the time being, as Kazuki’s presence seemed to be the only thing preventing Emi from continuing to scream her head off, though the child still become inconsolable for the few minutes Miroku had been away. Apparently, it took both Miroku and Kazuki for Emi to stop her crying, as the one and a half year old clung desperately to her father, while listening to the growls and yips of her friend. Remarkably enough, Kazuki never once started his own fussing, asking for his mother, or wishing to stay with his father, when Inuyasha had stopped in so briefly. Kazuki was fully focused on the upset toddler sitting in her father’s lap a few feet away, only wishing to stop the horrible scent of fear that continually flowed from her like a fountain. Everyone else smelled of fear too, but for some reason, he could not stand for that scent to be coming from her.
Miroku wanted nothing more than to also be at Sango’s side, but knew he could not leave Emi alone with Kohaku and Shippo, lest she start crying again, yet at the same time, he also knew that he didn’t dare bring Emi with him to Kaede’s. The child had been haunted enough by the images of her dreams; she didn’t need to see it in real life. Reluctantly, the monk settled for the knowledge that Sango was still fighting, and he trusted Inuyasha to inform him immediately if her situation changed in the slightest. He was beyond grateful for all that they’d done for his wife, having been told what had been the problem regarding her labor, and also knowing that under any other circumstances, such a tragedy would have guaranteed both her death, as well as the death of his son.
His son. He had a son. He had taken a moment to hold the infant briefly, when Kaede had explained to him that all was not lost, and that even if Sango should not pull through, her sacrifice was not in vain. They had saved her child, his child. His best friends…who had saved his own life in battle countless times - around as many times as he had also saved theirs…he was now forever in their debt.
“I name you Kichiro.” he whispered to his son, while holding him close.
Those in the hut with demonic hearing had heard the man’s proclamation, and had offered him the tiniest of smiles in understanding. Lucky Son was definitely a fitting name.
Miroku was pulled from his thoughts when the reed doormat was suddenly shoved aside, as a frantic Inuyasha quickly stormed into the hut.
“What is it?!” he asked anxiously, the girl he cradled already starting to whimper anew from sensing his agitation.
“Come on.” was all he said, as he quickly plucked his friend’s daughter from his arms, while simultaneously yanking him to his feet. Inuyasha handed the now crying Emi to Kohaku, who briefly flashed him a look stating I understand as he held his niece, while Miroku was virtually dragged out of the hut.
``````````````````````````````````````````
He hated this. While it was his swiftest method of transportation, at least while in his human form, Sesshoumaru could not help but to feel that his energy cloud was being unbearably slow, at the moment. He also hated that he could still not, for the life of him, successfully pinpoint what it was that he had felt was the problem, in the first place.
Inuyasha was distressed. So what? Why should he care?
Okay…so that was the old Sesshoumaru talking, he relented. He knew that it was his place to ‘care’ now, whether or not his half-brother was well. But Sesshoumaru didn’t honestly feel as though anything was physically wrong with Inuyasha…not that he had truly ever had such a bond with the hanyou before. He had certainly never received any signals from him in the past, and he couldn’t fathom why he was receiving such a strong intuition on the subject now. But one thing Sesshoumaru prided himself on was possessing no doubts. He was always certain, in everything he did. No decision was made in haste, and no plan of action was ever regretted. While he would begrudgingly admit that he was confused, as he did not fully understand the reasoning behind the feelings he was receiving, he had no doubt regarding their authenticity.
Inuyasha was distressed.
So what did it mean? Was there perhaps something wrong with his mate? Or another immediate member of his pack? His pup? He would find out soon…though not soon enough, the Taiyoukai growled to himself, wondering for the fifth time if he should merely transform himself into his true form. Though somehow, he doubted the puny human village his half-brother called home would truly appreciate being awoken in the middle of the night by a giant youkai dog-descending within their grounds.
Still…
Inuyasha was distressed, and it was…unsettling.
`````````````````````````````````
I nuyasha unconsciously tightened his grip of Tetsusaiga’s scabbard as he held the sheathed blade against his shoulder, while he sat in the far corner of the hut, feeling about as useless as ever. Perhaps if his eyes had not been pinched tightly closed, he would have noticed the faint glowing that emanated from the tiny silver strands that were incorporated within its wood. But as it was, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes, lest he allow tears to escape them. They had failed.
Sango had developed a high fever, and all the “modern” medical knowledge in the world could do nothing for her…because she wouldn’t wake up. The sleep aid they had given Sango was not designed to last this long. She should be awake by now. It had quickly become apparent that the reason she still slept was because she was unconscious due to her current condition, but with no other method of the time for administering medication, the tea they had prepared for reducing her fever had to be drank.
How the hell was she supposed to drink the medicine Kagome had mixed for her, if she wouldn’t wake up?!?!
At first Kagome had mumbled something about longing for IVs and antibiotics, but she’d quickly dismissed the notion when her mate had inquired further, stating that even if, in theory, Myouga could serve by injecting Sango with the medicine, she didn’t have the proper medicine to begin with. Kagome certainly wasn’t about to start injecting her friend with mystery drugs concocted from 16th century teas meant for drinking. She wasn’t that stupid.
They had attempted to coax some of the liquid down Sango’s throat, but her body was apparently so exhausted that her physical reflex to swallow was not up to par, and they couldn’t risk accidentally drowning the poor woman, so they’d stopped. As horrible as it sounded to someone from a medical science point of view, all that there was left to do, was pray.
Kagome also maintained hope that, perhaps, hearing Miroku’s voice would help Sango to pull through. As soon as Inuyasha had returned with the ex-monk, she had quickly explained the situation at hand, and for the last hour or so, Miroku had been steadily begging his wife to come back to him, to wake up. If Sango could wake up, even if only for a minute or two, just long enough to drink the tea, that would greatly increase her chances of survival.
In the mean time, Kagome did all that she could to combat Sango’s fever from the outside-in. She gave Miroku a steady supply of cool rags to apply to her forehead, Kaede having taken the time to wash the blood out of her rags while Kichiro slept. With a washcloth of her own, Kagome also continually cleansed the area around Sango’s sutures, using a bar of modern soap and warm water to assure the tender wound remained clean. But the area was growing more and more angry looking as time progressed, pink, swollen, and hot, which was not a good combination of words to use, at least when describing a surgical wound. At least Kagome knew enough about white blood cells to know that Sango needed every single one she had, rather than allowing the medical knowledge of the time to “bleed” the fever out of her. That would have killed her for sure.
Kaede had also pointed out that Kichiro would need to be fed. The infant had fortunately gone to sleep without issue right after his birth, but was now starting to fuss. Kagome didn’t believe that having Mother breast-feed her own infant would be dangerous by that point, especially considering that they knew for a fact that the sleep tea they’d given to Sango was long out of her system. While Sango’s body was fighting off the onset of a physical infection, it certainly wasn’t anything that had already spread throughout her entire body, and should not affect her milk yet in the slightest. That hypothesis was confirmed when Kagome had Inuyasha inspect said milk with his nose, which was more powerful than her own enhanced sense of smell, just to be on the safe side. Once it was confirmed that Sango’s milk was harmless, everyone agreed that the child should at least be granted one meal from his mother’s own breast, before substitute milk may have to be found.
Realizing that his voice alone didn’t seem to be working, Miroku also hoped that, perhaps, upon registering the sensation of her infant suckling against her breast, Sango’s maternal instincts would kick in, assisting her body with combating whatever ailed her, under the realization that her son needed her to live. Her son, and her daughter, needed her to live. Her son, daughter, and husband, needed her to live.
Sango had been loosely wrapped in a sleeping yukata, warm blankets pulled up around her mid-section, as Miroku carefully placed himself beside her on the futon, careful not to physically touch her because of her overly sensitive injuries. That was how he had found himself thinking of her current physical condition. She had injuries, just like any other, that anyone may incur, at any time. He and Sango had both been injured before, repeatedly. She was a youkai slayer for crying out loud. Then surely she could heal from her current injuries, right? Surely a little thing like being ripped open couldn’t be that serious, especially not when someone as kind and loving as Kagome had taken her time with delicately stitching the injuries back together. Nodding in hopeful denial regarding Emi’s literal words, as Mommy was simply hurt, Miroku convinced himself that his wife would be getting better, as he slowly, carefully, placed Kichiro at his mother’s breast. Kirara, who had once again been sitting in a quiet corner of the hut, though that time not by herself, took that moment to shake the flea-youkai off her head, before carefully joining her mistress along side the monk.
Myouga muttered something about injustice to the elderly, before he found his way to Inuyasha’s shoulder, the hanyou doing good to ignore him, even when he felt the tell tale prick in the side of his neck. But even Myouga knew that that was no time for his usual antics, and after a small meal, he settled down rather humbly, in apparent meditation. The foreign aura he felt from Tetsusaiga had not gone unnoticed, but he decided there was no point in raising everyone’s hopes prematurely. If it meant what he thought it meant, they would all find out soon enough.
Kagome, her attention unwavering from the futon where her friend lay possibly dying, looked on with a deep pain in her heart. Miroku had never looked more in love, as he aided Sango’s body with feeding their son, as he held Kichiro in place. Sango almost looked to be merely asleep. The scene would have almost looked touching, if she didn’t know the true depths of Sango’s ‘injuries’. While she, too, was attempting to cling onto whatever little hope still remained that Sango was simply too stubborn to let herself die, Kagome could not help but to recall the look in her friend’s eyes mere moments before slipping into unconsciousness. The look Sango had given her had not been the look of someone begging you to save their life. Sango had been begging her sister and best friend to save the life of her baby.
“We did it, Sango…” Kagome whispered quietly, so quietly that even Inuyasha had missed it, as distracted as he was with thoughts of their failure. Even the scent of Kagome’s tears went unnoticed. “We saved your son.”
``````````````````````````````````
Emi eventually cried herself back to sleep. With as little sleep as the toddler had gotten that night, they doubted she would be waking back up any time soon. Hopefully, her nightmares would leave her in peace, as well.
Shippo suggested to Kohaku that he also try to get some rest, but the teenager quickly shook his head, stating: “I cannot sleep, when I do not know if I shall ever see my sister again.”
Shippo understood what he was going through, all too well.
“Well then, why don’t you go?” the kitsune said with an air of maturity the human youth wasn’t used to hearing from the youkai child. But then again, they hadn’t previously been the closest of companions.
“What about Emi?” Kohaku asked, thinking of how Miroku had placed him in charge of his niece earlier that day.
“I can handle Emi if she wakes back up.” Shippo assured, quickly popping into a flawless replication of Miroku, minus the twin tails that stuck out from his backside, which the toddler hopefully wouldn’t notice. Not that Shippo would share with Kohaku how he’d gotten so good at duplicating his brother-in-law’s image, knowing that the stories of him training with his sister would only cause the human boy more pain at the moment.
Nodding, Kohaku rose on shaky legs, still feeling a little lightheaded as he left the hut without another word, though his eyes had shown with gratitude. Shippo waited until he was sure the boy was out of hearing range, before quietly whispering “Gods’ speed.”
Leaving his scent alone, knowing that Emi’s ridiculously weak human nose would not be able to tell the difference, while at the same time knowing that Kazuki’s would, and he’d better not allow his sleeping brother to believe he had suddenly left him alone, Shippo decided to try and see if he could get any amount of sleep himself on that night, or at the very least, a few minutes of resting with his eyes closed. It never even occurred to the kit that he was once again alone, himself, save for the children, as he had originally sought out adult companionship in his desire to not be alone. But somewhere along the way, he’d subconsciously realized that he wasn’t the one who truly felt alone. He wasn’t the one who was possibly losing his sister…or his…mate. He shuddered at the thought.
````````````````````````````````
Sometimes, she hated the feudal era.
Pacing back and forth in Kaede’s hut, Kagome barely registered the quiet mutters of her mate, as Inuyasha continued to sit in the corner. Kichiro had fallen back asleep, and Miroku held the infant tenderly, while continuing to pray over his wife’s side. He had given up speaking directly to Sango, and now, he was speaking to the kami themselves.
Kagome didn’t have a thermometer, not that she needed one to know that Sango’s fever was high. Her cheeks were flush, her lips were pale, and her brow was sweaty. She felt as hot to the touch as a bad sunburn Kagome recalled from summers passed, and she still wouldn’t wake up. They had managed to carefully coax another small amount of tea down her throat, but they were sure it wouldn’t be enough. At that point, it looked as though only divine intervention could save her. Kagome had lost track of the number of times she had been in a similar situation with her husband, during his human nights, but there was one colossal difference here… Sango didn’t have to hang on only until sunrise to ensure her survival. She had no dormant youkai blood within her system that would guarantee her full recovery upon its return.
Kagome had gotten so used to the healing properties of those with demonic blood, herself included, that the miko found herself gaping in horror at how, hours later, Sango didn’t appear to have healed at all. She couldn’t really blame her mate’s past words regarding ‘weak’ humans, when she thought about it from that point of view. Humans were weak. But for a human, Sango was strong, Kagome reminded herself, in the simple fact that she was still alive.
She’s still alive… She’s still alive… the miko repeated to herself like a mantra. Taking another deep whiff of the air surrounding her friend, she grimaced, but…while she was still alive, there was still hope, right?
Miroku didn’t need a demonic sense of smell to feel the way his wife’s aura was slowly slipping away, but his faith would not permit him to give up hope while there still appeared to be even the smallest of chances. Trying to orchestrate a group prayer, he said it was up to the gods, but while Kaede and Kagome had both decidedly agreed to join his prayers, the angry protests from a distressed hanyou brought the activity to a screeching halt.
“Like the gods truly give a rat’s ass about anything that happens to humans!” he snapped from his corner. “Aren’t these the same beings who supposedly allowed this to happen to her in the first place? If Sango’s gonna survive this, it’s up to Sango.”
Inuyasha had decades of personal experience when it came to prayers not being answered, and he had learned quickly that whenever in a situation of life vs. death, you had no one to rely on but yourself. He knew his own situation had changed slightly in recent years. He knew he now had people who truly cared about him, who cared for him when he was injured, but old habits died hard. Besides, if he didn’t keep up the façade of cruel indifference, he was likely to become a whimpering mass of depression, just like Sango’s husband. The woman was dying from wounds he’d inflicted on her, after all, and the hanyou could not help the incredible waves of guilt he felt every time her unconscious form shuddered from the pain. He kept trying to tell himself over and over again that she would have died anyway, and that what they’d done was necessary to save the baby, but still…
Miroku’s soft words brought him back from his descending spiral.
“You are right, of course, my friend.” the monk said calmly, “Sango’s will to live is a crucial factor here. But I have faith that the gods will not turn a deaf ear to our pleas.” Crouching down, Miroku was careful of the sleeping bundle he held, as he placed one hand upon Inuyasha’s knee, “Even should this not turn out the way we hope…thank you, Inuyasha…for saving my son’s life.”
Said hanyou glanced up at the man above him through the curtain of his bangs, keeping his face down in the hopes of shielding his eyes from view, but Miroku could still see the tear tracks on his cheeks.
“Keh.” was all he managed to say in response.
Everyone looked up then, as the doormat suddenly moved aside. Seeing who stood shakily in her doorway, Kaede quickly offered a steady hand for Kohaku to grasp, while she assisted the youth in settling down upon the nearest futon.
The boy-turned-man suddenly found himself at a loss for words, but his eyes seemed to ask the unnerving question “How is she?” It was Kagome who decided to answer the unasked query.
“She’s still fighting.” she said behind a mask of confidence, placing a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.
Struggling back to his feet then, Kagome sensed his intentions and helped him up, then helped him move over towards his sister’s side. The look of horror adorning Kohaku’s face was surely only matched by the time he had awoken after slaughtering his entire family under Naraku’s control.
“Did I…fail her?” he managed to squeak out in merely a whisper.
Fortunately, Kagome had heard him, and without hesitation answered matter-of-factly with “Absolutely not. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have made it this far.”
His frown seemed to lessen at that news, but it still did not upturn on the edges enough to be considered a smile.
Another moan escaped the slayer’s lips in her sleep, earning the pained cry of “Ane-ue!” to burst forth from Kohaku’s. Miroku came up from behind the youth, and after quickly passing off his burden, he embraced his young brother-in-law’s shoulders with firm, understanding hands.
Kagome, while currently holding little Kichiro, tried to give the family some semblance of privacy, as she joined her mate in the corner.
“She’s not gonna pull through, you know…” Inuyasha whispered to her quietly, ensuring the others in the hut didn’t hear.
“I know…” she whispered in return, unable to stop her tears from falling. They had both first detected the horrid stench of death encroaching upon their friend two hours ago. She was definitely dying.
“There’s nothing even the gods can do now.” he mumbled, glancing through his bangs at the fragile infant Kagome held in her tender grasp. Reaching across ever so carefully, Inuyasha gently rubbed the back of his fingers across the small tuft of sable hair adorning the baby’s head.
Looking across at Inuyasha, really looking at him full on for the first time in hours, Kagome suddenly noticed the odd shimmer encompassing Tetsusaiga’s scabbard. After carefully shifting the baby in her grasp, she reached forward, and wrapped her tiny fingers around the sheathed blade, concentrating. Inuyasha stared at his mate questioningly, before he too suddenly noticed what had caught her attention. Concentrating on Tetsusaiga’s scabbard, they both tried desperately to put into the back of their thoughts the situation at hand, which until that moment had understandably acted as quite the distraction. It was Kagome who first ventured a fragile smile, as her eyes once again met Inuyasha’s, as they stared at each other knowingly. A very strong demonic aura was headed their way, rather swiftly, and they both knew without a doubt whose it was. The confirming nod they suddenly received from Myouga only sealed the deal.
“Perhaps the gods can’t do anything.” Kagome conceded, “But we know someone who is even more powerful.”
Inuyasha just shook his head, a tiny glimmer of hope placing itself in his eyes. How had his brother sensed that his presence was needed? Maybe the gods had actually listened to their prayers, after all.