Chapter Text
She watched him carefully as he ran. She could sense the fear in him. Fear of what? Of being caught? Of those pursuing him? Did he truly think that this strange group was a danger to him? Then again, he had always been keen on his own safety, keeping himself alive above all else. Maybe he didn't want to risk using his new body before he was secured in his strengths and limits.
"What is your plan now, Onigumo?" she asked. "Or do you prefer Naraku, now?"
He glanced down at her, an unreadable expression twisting his features. But then he smiled. "You know, my dear Kikyo, I was somewhat surprised to find you still tied to this world. However, I cannot say that I am displeased at your presence." He stretched out a clawed, demonic arm, testing his newfound power. "Why, you gifted me such a lovely body."
She didn't rise to the bait. He didn't know her motives, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"Furthermore, you may yet hold the key to the Shikon Jewel."
If her heart could still beat, it would be pounding against her chest. The Jewel. She had given her life to its defense. It was supposed to lie dormant forever. Now, she could see splintered shards of pink cradled perversely in Naraku's hand. Their power was unmistakable, their pull undeniable.
"I heard that you killed me for it," she said, watching as his face pinched at the words. Interesting. But then his expression smoothed, and another smile curled his lips.
"Yes, you bound your life to it," he said thoughtfully. "Only right that you should have a taste of its power, is it not?"
He tucked her closer to his chest and picked up one of the shards from the palm of his hand. As he held it, concentrated his power into it, the pink Jewel clouded a deep, muddy crimson, stained with miasma and malice. She was still too weak to move, her souls gone and her soul-collectors unable to reach her with Naraku beside her. She was powerless to stop him as he plunged the shard into her chest. The pure evil inside of it spread through her hollow core like a plague.
"I will set the stage for you, my dear," he whispered softly, his face pressed close to hers. "Do not disappoint me."
~*~
Inuyasha slid down the rocky sides of the mountain, catching sight of Kirara with Sango and Shippo near the base. The twin-tail ran up to meet them. Sango clung to her back, face pale and sweaty, breathing hard through the mask clamped to her face.
“We saw Naraku fly overhead,” she said as Inuyasha landed beside them. “What’s the plan?”
“He has Kikyo! We need to follow him!” Inuyasha snarled, shaking with the need to get moving. Miroku slipped from his back and stumbled over to Kirara. The twin-tail helped to nudge him onto her back as he climbed on, then they both nodded at Inuyasha. They took off, following the trail of miasma left in Naraku’s wake. Inuyasha kept his eyes fixed to the sky, straining for any glimpse of either of them.
The demonic aura surrounding the mountain had faded into nothing, and darkness had rushed in to reclaim the night. Under the light of the stars and full moon, they ran. Inuyasha didn’t once stop, not even when his muscles burned and his breaths came in ragged gasps. Kirara stayed close behind him, keeping pace despite the weight of two humans and fox on her back. Despite their best efforts, they were slowly losing the trail. As they ran through the countryside, the line of miasma grew fainter and fainter, Naraku’s aura almost impossible to detect.
It was just before dawn. The streaks of miasma were lost in the pink clouds of morning. Inuyasha was trembling with exhaustion and distress. Miroku’s breathing had settled into a steady wheeze, his face pale, and Sango grasped at his arms where they wrapped around her waist, worried that he might fall from Kirara’s back. Inuyasha swore ferociously and finally slowed to a stop.
“Damnit!” he cried as his knees threatened to give way. “Damn it all! Fuck! We almost had them. Fucking shit!”
“We could still find her,” Miroku gasped, gracelessly climbing from Kirara as she landed. “It’s still early – they can’t have gone far.”
Inuyasha growled loudly but didn’t answer. He began pacing, snarling to himself. Sango glanced between them as she followed Miroku to the ground, alarmed by the rattling sound coming from the monk’s chest. She worried that he wouldn’t be fit to face Naraku even if they did catch him, but she wasn’t about to tell Inuyasha to give up the chase. Apparently, the hanyou’s thoughts followed a similar path.
“I’m going after her on my own,” he finally said decisively, glaring at each of them in turn.
“You’re not,” Miroku countered instantly. “None of us can face Naraku alone, and you’re exhausted.”
“And you’re injured!” Inuyasha snapped back. “Don’t pretend the miasma hasn’t gotten to you.”
“Naraku is an enemy to all of us,” Sango said, glancing between them.
“You don’t have to face this alone,” Miroku added. His violet eyes were locked onto Inuyasha, bright from exertion as he struggled to keep his breathing even. “We all want to help you and Kikyo.”
Inuyasha growled but refused to meet his eyes. His ears were pinned to his skull, and his shoulders hunched. “It’s not a matter of teamwork – it’s survival. And you lot won’t survive against Naraku right now.”
Miroku opened his mouth for a lengthy, impassioned argument, but instead something caught his eye. “Inuyasha, look!”
Up in the sky, skimming over treetops, a group of Kikyo’s soul collectors were flying in tight formation. Each had a soul grasped in their arms. Inuyasha took off after them without a word. Sango and Miroku clambered onto Kirara’s back with Shippo. The twin-tail gave them both a nervous look over her shoulder before leaping into the air.
“What are those?” Sango asked quietly, eyes fixed on the demons.
“Youkai under Kikyo’s command. They bring her the souls of dead maidens to sustain her.” Miroku grimaced lightly and nodded at Sango’s horrified expression. “I know. I don’t like it much either, but it’s complicated.”
“Shippo told me that she tried to steal your soul once, too,” Sango murmured quietly, hoping Inuyasha wouldn’t hear.
“She did, a bit,” Miroku sighed. “Again, complicated situation.”
“Do I need to keep my eye on Inuyasha throughout this?” Sango asked. “If Kikyo has been manipulated by Naraku, and he has to fight against her…”
“He will always try to save her, no matter the cost,” Miroku said, and Sango could hear a note of sorrow in his voice. “We just need to support him. He’s very sensitive when it comes to her, and he doesn’t like others in the mix.”
Sango nodded, but secretly, she wondered just what exactly she had stumbled into. The Kikyo she had been told about was a virtuous, benevolent priestess who sacrificed her life to purify and guard the Shikon Jewel. She couldn’t place that person with the image of the woman she had seen walk past them without any trace of warmth. Or a person who would steal the souls of dead women, and try to kill Inuyasha and Miroku. Shippo had seemed frightened of her. Miroku seemed conflicted.
A deep growl built in Inuyasha’s throat as he ran after the soul collectors for all he was worth. Kikyo was in the clutches of Naraku – it was his worst nightmare. That monster had driven him and Kikyo apart. He had killed her. His love had died because of him. And now she was ensnared in one of Naraku’s twisted games! Inuyasha had to get her back. He couldn’t let Naraku destroy her!
More and more soul collectors gathered overhead, all flying in the same direction. They seemed to be coming from far and wide. Sango briefly wondered how far each of them had to search to find a woman who had died recently enough that her soul remained in her body. She had never seen this type of demon before, either – they looked halfway between dragons and fish, possibly eels. As one flew up beside her, she took the opportunity to study it. Instead, she heard a familiar buzzing. Her stomach dropped. She tapped Kirara with her foot, signalling her to rise into the air. Sango jumped from her back, slicing through one of the demons with her sword. Inuyasha spun around, anger and fear twisting his features. Then he froze. The illusion dropped as the creature was cut in half, returning to its true form – one of Naraku’s venomous insects.
“Saimyosho!” she shouted to the others, landing on Kirara with Miroku’s arms to secure her. “Look out! It’s a trap!”
Ahead of them, the illusion dropped from the other soul collectors as well, all of them Saimyosho. They seemed to be passing through one of Naraku’s barriers. Inuyasha ground his teeth and pressed forward, bracing a forearm out in front of himself in case he ran headlong into a barrier he couldn’t pass. Instead, as he ran through the shimmering plane, the faint dawn light he'd been relying on seemed to be sucked away, and suddenly he was running through a fog-covered clearing. It was eerily quiet, all the usual sounds of the forest suddenly absent. The Saimyosho were nowhere in sight. He glanced behind to make sure the others had also gotten through alright. But they were nowhere to be seen.
Inuyasha swore, sliding to a stop and turning in a full circle. No hint of them, not a scent or sound. Instead, the acrid smell of smoke filled his nose. Before him, a faint golden glow reached up into the sky with fluid, grasping fingers. He ran, though the smoke grew ever thicker. He could make out a tori close in front of him and he jumped onto the shrine gate to get a better vantage point. Winding stone steps descended from the tori, leading to a burning village. All the huts were ablaze, most burnt down to their frames. Inuyasha glanced around in shock. What was this place? There had been no sign of a village before. Yet it seemed oddly familiar. He couldn’t-
“It’s Inuyasha!”
The shout came from somewhere deep in the village, and suddenly he could see a collection of villagers, armed with farming tools and moving through the burning structures.
“He’s the one who attacked the village!” another voice rose from the flames.
More shouts rose from the gathering crowd, all baying for his blood. Inuyasha ground his teeth. What new torture was this? Had Naraku destroyed a village in his image? Slaughtered more innocent people to frame him? But surely a handful of human farmers posed no threat to him. So why-
There was something sitting heavy in the palm of his hand. Inuyasha glanced down, and his heart stopped. The Shikon Jewel – the whole, intact Jewel of Four Souls sat in his clenched hand, attached to a necklace of prayer beads as it had been all those years ago. But how- It couldn’t be! It didn’t make sense.
“Inuyasha!”
Another voice, another angry cry, but this one cut right to his soul. He turned, drawn to her as he had been on that day, despite everything that had happened. He was met with piercing agony in his chest, which struck him back, off the tori arch. The Jewel fell from his hand. They both landed in the fire-baked earth, surrounded by flames. The smoke stung his eyes and crept into his lungs, but Inuyasha could still see her. Kikyo stood in front of the shrine, eyes blazing with the reflected light of the fire, arm still pulled back from loosing her arrow.
Of course. He knew where he was. This was Kaede’s village… Kikyo’s village back then. Fifty years ago. The day Kikyo killed him. The day she died. He glanced around him wildly, taking it all in with new eyes. He remembered tearing through the village, turning over wagons and smashing through carts. He had betrayed the villagers, turned against them to steal the Sacred Jewel, heartbroken and turned to stone by Kikyo’s betrayal earlier that day. But this… He didn't remember it like this. The fires, the destruction, it was so much more. Was it really all his doing? It must be. He knew he'd attacked. Gods, no wonder they had hated him. But how could he be there again? How was he trapped back here?
He met Kikyo's eyes and froze. Cold fury stared back at him, barely masking the agony and horror he could see her trying to hide. She had notched another arrow, this one blazing with spiritual power. Icy dread pierced his heart. No, this couldn't be happening again! They couldn’t relive this hell!
“Kikyo, wait!” he shouted to her. “It was all just a trap!” Her eyes were cold and hard as she took a step towards him. “Don’t do it!” He reached out a hand to her. She drew back the strong of her bow, ready to kill him. “Kikyo! No!”
He didn’t understand! Was this a dream? An illusion? Some curse, forcing them to replay their death? Kikyo looked so angry, the fire was closing in on all sides, and the arrow burned in his chest. Inuyasha was trapped.
~*~
Miroku slowed to a stop, glancing around the clearing he found himself in. The first revelation was that he was walking, not riding on Kirara’s back. The next was the others were gone. He stood alone in the middle of a field, a cold wind tugging at his robes. His heartrate picked up as he found the others nowhere in sight. Had Naraku separated them on purpose? Drawn them apart to pick them off, one by one? He prayed the others were safe. He reached out with his mind, but a jolt of panic hit him when he couldn’t feel Inuyasha’s nenju beads. Was he too far to reach? Had Naraku dropped them in completely different areas?
The wind had grown dramatically, playing with his hair and tossing his loose robes to and fro. The whistle and hiss of the swirling breeze curled around him, chilling him to the bone. It seemed to be coming from all directions, everywhere and nowhere all at once. A cold numbness was spreading from his right hand. Miroku’s heart clenched in fear as he watched the mala beads tremble and crack around his hand. Oh, gods no. If the beads broke- He didn't know how he could- The fear couldn't even hit home before the beads shattered. The wind tunnel sprang forth in full fury, stronger than ever before. Miroku cried out as he held his wrist, looking for some way to escape – but how could he escape his own hand? The very thing he had dreaded his whole life, and yet it was so sudden! He didn’t want to die. He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye!
Miroku squeezed his eyes shut, driving off the panic clawing at his chest. It was alright. There was nothing he could do now. He simply needed to accept his fate. It was some small blessing that he was alone. Even if Naraku won, it meant that the others were-
“Miroku!”
That was Inuyasha’s voice. His eyes snapped open to see the hanyou running for him.
“Miroku!”
And there was Sango, riding towards him on Kirara, Shippo on her lap.
“No!” he screamed, absolute terror seizing him. “No, get away!”
They were racing for him, reaching for him, trying to beat the impending nothingness drawing him in and Miroku couldn’t stop screaming. He yelled, swore, begged, anything to get them away but they weren’t listening! They were coming ever closer. Just a few more steps and they would be caught in the wind tunnel, drawn into the void and he couldn’t stop it.
~*~
Sango skidded to a sudden stop, one hand still on Hiraikotsu. The others were nowhere in sight, and she was suddenly in her battle clothes. Was this another trick of Naraku’s? She had no idea how he had managed to separate them, but she would fight to get her companions back. She crept forward, keeping an eye out for any sign of danger. It didn’t take long. There was something pooling on the ground, a shallow puddle of sticky red. Her stomach dropped as she followed the flowing liquid to its source, a cluster of nearby trees. Her heart hammered in her chest as she approached.
There were figures lying on the ground. Women, children, dozens of them. Terror was etched on their faces, twisted in their final death screams. Dozens of bloody wounds covered them, wounds she recognized. A flash of white caught her eye, and the breath froze in her lungs. Inuyasha lay against a tree, the front of his suikan stained a deep red. Blood dripped down the side of his face. His hair was streaked with crimson. Sango shook her head, not trusting her eyes. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t! Inuyasha would never- He couldn’t! He couldn’t die! He wouldn’t let himself be taken down by anything, let alone- And where was Miroku? He would never have let-
Miroku lay just a little past him, mouth open in one final gasp. His body looked broken, gaping holes in his neck and gut. Sango shook her head, stumbled back. No. Oh, gods, no! Not Miroku! The world seemed to be closing in around her, smothering her in darkness and she couldn’t breathe. Shippo lay beside Miroku. It looked like he had been trying to shield the little kit. But there had been no escape, for either of them. Their executioner was without mercy.
A faint, low groan came from her right. Her head snapped over to see Kirara, drenched in red. She was still standing – barely – but even as Sango watched, a kama snaked out and buried deep in Kirara’s neck. The twin-tail’s eyes widened and she fell, choking on her own blood. A silhouette appeared behind her, and Sango knew who it was. Kohaku raised his weapon once more, and with two quick strikes, Sango fell to the ground. She knew right away that the wound was fatal. She almost welcomed it. This monster was not her brother. A sob ripped from her chest. She had wanted more than anything to believe that he was still in there, and to free him from Naraku’s clutches. Even if his mind was gone, she could still reach his body. If there was one last thing before she died, she needed to know he was safe. Even if that meant his own death. The thought that he would remain trapped, an emotionless assassin forever, scared her more than anything else.
~*~
Inuyasha slowly climbed to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on Kikyo. He had to find some way to reach her, to make her listen to him! She needed to know that he never betrayed her, that he would never hurt her! But then she cried out, doubling over in pain, and red bloomed along her shoulder. The fatal wound that had killed her all those years ago was being torn open once more. She cried out again and sank to her knees.
“Kikyo!” He ran for her. Her face was a mask of pain. He drew her into his arms, clinging to her. She had been alone for so long. She had been hurting for so long. And she sought him out in her pain. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the heat blazing around them, just focusing on her. “You’ll never be alone again,” he whispered fiercely. “I swear it – I will always protect you.”
She gasped, her fingers tightly curled in his robes. She was dying. He could see the blood pouring from her. Inuyasha didn’t know what to do. How could he save her? Surely she couldn’t be doomed to die over and over! But at least she was in his arms, free from Naraku’s grasp. That was all that mattered.
Miroku’s scream shattered the faint veneer of calm that Inuyasha had collected. His head snapped up, eyes instantly finding the monk. He stood at the bottom of the steps, his breath ragged as poison from the Saimyosho spread through his body. His left hand grasped his right wrist, where his mala beads were shaking apart. Panicked indecision tore through Inuyasha’s chest as Kikyo’s weight grew heavier in his arms. He couldn’t just leave her, but he had to get to Miroku! He couldn’t!-
A panicked cry tore his attention to the side of the shrine. Kohaku’s kama had just found its mark in Sango’s back. She stumbled and fell, twisting around to block another attack with her forearm. A scream sounded from further away, in the forest, where Shippo was being chased by a faceless demon. Inuyasha stood frozen, feeling his very existence being torn apart. He couldn’t save them! They were all moments from death and he could do nothing! Kikyo was dying in his arms, there was no hope for her and he should be trying to save the others – he had to at least try – but their final moments had been stolen once before. He couldn’t lose her again! But the others- This couldn’t be happening!
Inuyasha blinked.
This couldn’t be happening.
Even Naraku couldn’t orchestrate something like this.
“This isn’t real,” he whispered, almost going limp with relief at the revelation.
“Inuyasha,” Kikyo clung to him. “Please.”
He lowered her to the ground, unable to push her away, even if she was an illusion. And he drew his sword, sending a jolt of power running through the blade. Kikyo – the real Kikyo – was still in danger. He still had to save her. And if he was caught in this trick, who knew what had happened to the others! As power leeched from the Tessaiga, Kikyo began to dissolve before him. The blade caught something in the real world, and the illusion faded away. He stood in a clearing in the forest, the sky darkened with clouds and miasma. Several roots lay at his feet, sliced in two.
Inuyasha gasped for breath, slammed his eyes closed and focused on controlling the way his body shook. He felt trapped, frozen to the spot. And as the ringing slowly faded from his ears, the screaming returned. He had never heard Miroku sound like that. It was pure, heartbroken panic and fear and pain. The name tore from his lips and he was running, no other thoughts in his mind. He had to save him. He couldn’t let the nightmare come true.
Miroku lay curled on the ground, creeping vines tightening over his torso and limbs. His face was pale, he was soaked in sweat, and he was writhing in some horrific mixture of agony and terror. More roots were rising above him, angling their pointed ends towards his body. Inuyasha saw what they were doing a heartbeat before they struck. He hurled himself forward, cut through the dagger-like roots with Tessaiga and dropped to his knees beside Miroku. He tore at the remaining roots with his claws. Miroku’s scream had tapered off into a series of short, pained gasps. Inuyasha grabbed his shoulders and hauled him upright, squeezing him in a quick embrace before pulling back to examine his face. Miroku’s eyes were fixed on his right hand, which he held in an awkward claw in front of him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he was trembling.
“Hey,” Inuyasha murmured, turning him around firmly but gently. “Hey, hey, look at me. Are you okay? Miroku!”
“My…” Miroku gasped out, words having abandoned him. “The wind tunnel… I-”
Shit. Inuyasha wanted nothing more than to curl around Miroku and never move again. It was rare for him to see any glimpse of fear in the monk at all, and he had never seen Miroku like this. But if they had both been taken by the illusion and the roots, then he had to assume that the others had been, as well. He couldn’t let them die. He couldn’t let them be hurt. Inuyasha knew with every fiber of his being that he couldn’t lose any of his pack today.
“Miroku, listen to me,” he snapped, voice harsh with urgency. “The others are in danger. We need to get to them. Can you walk?”
Something akin to recognition flashed in Miroku’s eyes and he nodded, jaw clenched and lips pressed. Inuyasha grabbed him by the arm and took in a deep breath, letting the scents of the forest wash over him. Sango’s scent hit him first, sour with fear. He took off running, dragging Miroku behind him. Sango was on her knees, arms suspended on either side by the roots grasping them. Her head lolled forward but harsh, angry sobs ripped from her chest. The roots weren’t quite ready to strike yet, and with a sick thought, Inuyasha figured that they weren’t done torturing her. His claws slashed through the creeper vines around her and Miroku caught her as she fell. Her arms came to brace against his shoulders even as she gasped for air.
“You take care of her,” Inuyasha instructed Miroku, since it was obvious that both humans were in rough shape. “I’m gonna find Shippo and Kirara.”
Miroku nodded tersely, still unable to find his voice. Inuyasha gave him one last sorrowful glance before taking off. He could smell Kirara, and found her absolutely covered in vines. She was in her smaller form, and had practically been swallowed by the nest of roots around her. Inuyasha broke through the topmost layer then simply reached in and pulled her free. She struggled and writhed in his hands, her claws sinking into his wrists as she tried to get away.
“Kirara!” he snapped. “It’s me. You’re safe. Come on back.”
She went rigid for a few heartbeats before she blinked up at him, her ears still pinned flat to her head and pupils blown.
“I know,” he said with grim humour. “The others are in the same shape. We gotta find Shippo.”
Kirara sprang from his arms and transformed, grim determination overtaking her fear. He gratefully climbed on her back and she lifted into the air, scanning for any sign of their kit. Instead he saw Miroku and Sango, half-running, half-stumbling through the clearing. His ears pricked as he caught the low whimpering they were following. The roots were set to take Shippo. Miroku didn’t have his staff, and there was no sign of Hiraikotsu, but Sango still had her sword and she easily sliced through the roots and pulled Shippo into her arms. Kirara landed gently beside them and Inuyasha tentatively crept closer.
Shippo was wailing and burying into Sango’s chest. She wrapped her arms awkwardly around the kit, still in a state of shock herself. Inuyasha knelt beside Miroku, placing a hand on the monk’s shoulder. Large, lost violet eyes looked back at him.
“Y-you were all gone!” Shippo sobbed, barely able to form words between his tears. “I didn’t know what h-happened to you!”
“We’re here,” Sango murmured faintly, her eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.
“Naraku must be somewhere nearby,” Inuyasha whispered to Miroku. “And he’ll still have Kikyo.”
Miroku nodded slowly. He took a steadying breath, which quickly caught in his throat. He turned his head away as a deep cough wracked his body. Inuyasha's hand grasped onto his shoulder so hard that it hurt, and as Miroku pulled his sleeve away from his mouth, Inuyasha wrenched him forward.
"Is that blood?" he hissed, panic in his eyes as he caught the hint of red on Miroku's lips.
"It's just the miasma," Miroku tried to reassure him. "I'm alright."
Inuyasha felt his throat close as words fled. Miroku gave his arm a squeeze and clamoured gracelessly to his feet. He put a firm hand on Sango's shoulder. She also nodded and rose, Shippo still tucked against her chest. Kirara walked over and gently bumped Sango with her head. The slayer sagged a little against her. Inuyasha forced himself to move, to stand, to sniff the air for some trace of either Naraku or Kikyo. But he couldn't concentrate. Everything in him was at war, telling him to find Kikyo before she could be lost again, to find Naraku and eliminate this threat once and for all, and to get his pack to safety. But they were in the middle of a forest, the sky obscured by clouds of miasma. Kirara wouldn't be able to fly them out. They were probably trapped by Naraku's barrier, anyway. They would have no choice but to fight him, but Inuyasha felt like he was going to be sick from the poignant combination of exhaustion and fear, and his pack looked ready to collapse.
He forced himself to open his senses, to try and push beyond the swirl of emotions leeching into the laden scents of his pack. He took a tentative step forward, deeper into the forest. Normally, one of them would suggest that they split up to search. That was absolutely not an option. Inuyasha kept his claws snagged deeply into Miroku’s sleeve, while Miroku had his left hand curled around Sango’s wrist. But still, there was nothing. Nothing but the roots which still curled along the ground and draped from the trees, waiting to strike like snakes in the dark. After some searching, they stumbled across the Hiraikotsu sticking out of the ground right in front of the barrier. Inuyasha tried to cut through the barrier with Tessaiga, but just as he'd thought, it was no use. They turned and tried to follow the path they'd been taking before. There was still no sign of either of their targets. The roots still covered the ground, and began to creep closer towards them whenever they stood still for too long. They seemed to be becoming more and more active the longer they searched.
Miroku pulled them all to a stop. He threw a sutra at the roots, and they skidded backwards at the burst of spiritual power. Ah, so that explained why Naraku had wrenched away his staff. As it was, he wouldn't be able to break whatever demonic spell was controlling the plants. But maybe he could still use them. His brow furrowed as he watched the roots carefully, following their movements as they shifted closer and closer, pressing in on one side more than the other. He took a step back towards the barrier. A root shot for his ankle, Inuyasha's claws flashed, and Miroku stepped back. Then he took a step in the opposite direction, where the roots were thinner but still present. Nothing happened.
“They don’t just want to capture us,” he said quietly, voice hoarse from screams and miasma. “They’re trying to lure us somewhere.”
“Great,” Inuyasha said humourlessly, stalking in the second direction with Tessaiga over his shoulder.
The further they moved, the more the roots began to shrink away from them. After a little more fruitless searching, Inuyasha spotted one of Kikyo’s soul collectors overhead. He launched into a run, just slow enough for the others to keep up. The telltale glow of a second demonic barrier cast an eerie blue light against the trees, in sharp contrast to the stormy sky. This one was much stronger than the first, practically opaque against the air. The soul collector dashed against the barrier and disintegrated. The soul rose freely into the sky. Inuyasha slid to a stop, holding Tessaiga at the ready. And then the roots attacked.
They came from all directions, angled like daggers and spears towards the exhausted group. Inuyasha and Sango protected them as best they could, with Tessaiga slicing through the immediate threats while the Hiraikotsu’s sweeping path cut many of the outer roots in half. But the roots also snaked along the ground, grasping at their legs. One encircled Kirara’s waist and began dragging her away. She struggled to get free and Sango ran after her with her sword, but then another vine shot from a nearby tree and wrapped around her arm. Inuyasha moved to assist and Miroku followed. He felt utterly useless without his staff. Maybe the wind tunnel would be able to clear a path, but he had no idea what the roots were connected to, and besides, he didn't think he would be able to even consider taking off the mala beads for some time. He could slice through a few of the roots with his sutras, but they were quickly dwindling. There was a root making its way to Inuyasha’s back as the hanyou freed Sango and Kirara. Miroku dove forward and held up a sutra, using it to spark a barrier to life.
There was a buzzing overhead, and they all glanced up with a sinking feeling. A swarm of Saimyosho was descending on them. The attack came from all sides, a mixture of roots, vines, and insects. Shippo jumped between Miroku and Inuyasha’s shoulders, keeping a wall of foxfire between them and the Saimyosho. Inuyasha, Sango, and Kirara continued to battle the roots and vines, but they were all shaken, exhausted, and drained. It only took one misstep for Kirara to fall, an opportunistic root snagging her leg and wrenching it to the side. A cascade of vines shot between her and Miroku as he moved to help, forcing him back. As the others struggled to free Kirara, a vine shot out and wrapped around Miroku’s arm. It tugged him sharply to one side, towards the barrier. He braced himself for a rough greeting, but instead he passed easily through. But the root didn't let him go for another moment, dragging him out of sight of the others and towards a clearing. Only then did it slither away.
Miroku glanced up and gasped. “Kikyo!” He could see her through the trees, nearly hidden behind the hulking form of Naraku. “I see Kikyo! I’m going to her!”
“What?” was Inuyasha’s alarmed reply, but Miroku ignored him.
He took not two steps forward before Kikyo’s eyes snapped open. She said something, too soft to catch, to Naraku. And then she slashed through his neck, taking the head of his baboon mask clean off with her spiritual power. A demon puppet flew from the white pelt, wrapped with one of Naraku’s hairs. Kikyo snatched it from the air and, as her eyes met Miroku’s, the puppet turned to dust in her hand.
“I see you’ve got a handle on things,” Miroku said, warily stepping closer. The Naraku on the mountain had been real. He didn't know when he would have had time to leave a demon puppet in his wake. He didn't know why, if Naraku truly wanted Kikyo for whatever reason, he would have left her behind.
Kikyo ignored him, leaning down to pick up her bow and quiver from the ground. She wordlessly notched an arrow and aimed it straight at Miroku. He slowed to a stop and gave her a quizzical look.
“We were worried for you,” he said calmly. “We came to save you.”
There was a twang from the bow, a line of fire split across Miroku’s cheek, and the arrow lodged itself into the barrier behind him. The entire thing pulsed and glowed, the demonic aura it emitted being replaced with a powerful pull of spiritual energy. Miroku’s heart sank. That did not bode well. He turned back to Kikyo, keeping his gaze level despite the burning at his cheek, the curl of miasma in his lungs, and the exhaustion wracking through him.
“What is it you want this time?” he asked.
Kikyo silently reached into her quiver and notched another arrow. Miroku didn’t move. If she wanted to shoot him, then so be it. The arrow struck the ground in front of him, sending a shock of spiritual power through the roots that gathered there. The earth began to sink away while the roots shot to him, wrapping around his legs and forcing him to his knees. Miroku tried to free himself, to reach into his robes to grab his final sutras, but the roots encircled his arms and held them in the air. Soon Miroku was suspended entirely by the roots, completely immobile. He could hear distant shouting some ways away, and figured that the others were trying to reach him. Kikyo's barrier wouldn't let them pass.
“Naraku is frightened of you,” Kikyo said coolly, examining him. “Of all of you, really. He fears what you pose together, so he tries to control me with the Shikon Jewel, hoping that I might be turned against you.”
Soul collectors reached her, delivering a fresh source of souls to her body then coiling around Miroku, adding another layer of entrapment. He guessed that she must not have as much control over the roots as Naraku did, and she wanted him to be extra helpless. He supposed he should be flattered. His eyes caught an angry red glow coming from her chest, where he could just make out a Jewel shard. It was dark and angry, deeply tainted with malice. Miroku swallowed. He’d never seen anything so corrupted. How much of Kikyo was left? She smirked knowingly, a hand coming to cover her chest.
“Surely the priestess who once guarded and purified the Jewel has not fallen so low as to be controlled by a mere shard,” she said, sending a wave of power within herself. The Jewel shard shone brighter than any other, not a tinge of malignant energy remaining. She then reached out and simply pulled the Jewel shard from around Miroku’s neck, easily snapping the twine that held it there.
“Don’t do this,” Miroku said, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “Kikyo, Naraku is seeking the shards. You don’t know what he-”
“I am aware of Naraku and his childish games,” Kikyo snapped. “He is a fool to think he can control me.”
“He will kill you for the shards,” Miroku warned.
“He can try,” Kikyo replied, the ghost of a smile twisting her lips.
Miroku stared at her, hard, trying to figure out what was driving her this time. Did she know what Naraku had done to her? Had her desires shifted from entrapping Inuyasha?
“You want to face Naraku,” Miroku said suddenly, the realization striking him. “You want to take him down alone. Kikyo, you can’t-”
“Do not presume to tell me what I can or cannot do,” she snarled, emotion lighting her eyes. “I know Naraku’s weakness. He poses no threat to me. Nor do you, monk.”
Miroku blinked, brows furrowing. What-?
“You can never be with him, you know,” Kikyo continued, and unfortunately, Miroku had no doubts to whom she was referring. “I can feel the curse emanating from your body. I may be dead, but you are not far behind.”
So that was it. She hadn’t truly changed, after all. “Kikyo,” he said firmly, exhausted beyond all reason. “Honestly, I don’t care. Look at me.” He attempted to throw his arms wide for effect, but was only partially successful in shifting around some roots. “Whether or not my feelings are reciprocated, or whether we have any hope of being together is the least of my worries. Inuyasha and I are both fighting for our survival. What will be, will be, and we must all accept that.”
Her eyes blazed. “You cannot have him!”
“Nor can you,” he replied calmly. “The dead cannot be with the living. You said so yourself.”
A smirk tugged at her lips. “Then I suppose we are at an impasse. But tell me, monk, who do you think Inuyasha would choose? Our love may be doomed, but it is real.”
“Of course he loves you,” Miroku sighed. “But he’s slowly realizing that you cannot be together.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “We shall see.”
She raised a hand, and the barrier dissolved behind them. A heartbeat later, Inuyasha burst through the trees, Tessaiga at the ready. He froze when he saw them, Kikyo standing over a bound Miroku. His eyes darted between them, fear and confusion evident in his gaze. Kikyo took two steps back, and as though given permission, Inuyasha leapt to Miroku’s side. He tore apart the roots restricting him and gasped in alarm when the monk collapsed against him.
“Miroku?” Inuyasha asked, almost frightened by the empty look in Miroku’s eyes. He was staring at Kikyo, and Inuyasha followed his gaze. He gasped when he saw what was clutched in Kikyo’s hand. “Kikyo! Those are Miroku’s Jewel shards.”
He glanced back to Miroku, who was shaking anew in his arms, his heart pounding but his breath calm and even. What the hell?
He dropped closer to the monk, grasping at his shoulder. “What did she do to you?” When it was obvious that Miroku wasn’t going to respond, his eyes snapped back to Kikyo. “What did you do?” he demanded, shocked at the anger in his own voice.
“What’s wrong, Inuyasha?” she asked innocently. “Why is it I feel you’re unhappy to know I’m well?”
“Answer me!” he snarled, baring his teeth at her. “What did you do to him?”
“I tried to kill him,” Kikyo said easily. “What is it that you plan to do about it? Will you kill me?”
A growl ripped from Inuyasha’s throat as he shifted further in front of Miroku. Every muscle in his body was coiled for a fight, even though rationally he knew he could never.
“Tell me,” she continued. “When Naraku had you under his spell, what was it that you thought about?”
Inuyasha rocked back, breathing hard. The answer must have shown on his face, because Kikyo chuckled and then laughed, throwing her head back in spectacle.
“Now, do you truly think you can kill me?” she asked, a challenge in her voice.
Inuyasha could say nothing. With one last, lingering look, Kikyo turned her back on him. Some of the circling soul collectors lowered to surround her, encircling her and lifting her up into the air.
“I will be waiting for you,” Kikyo called down to him. “So we may embrace death together.”
Inuyasha watched her go. Even though she was leaving again, even though she had all of their Jewel shards, he had no desire to chase after her. He turned his attention back to Miroku, who was kneeling hunched over, bracing himself with his hands. He reeked of exhaustion, pain, and miasma, but also the remnants of fear and sorrow, and something that Inuyasha couldn’t identify. His heartrate had settled, but his eyes still had a faraway, empty look to them that shook Inuyasha to his core. He tentatively reached out a hand to cradle the monk's cheek in his palm.
“Miroku?”
That elicited some response, at least. Miroku blinked back at him, his lips twisting into something caught between a smile and a grimace.
“What happened with Kikyo?” Inuyasha asked as gently as he could.
“Don’t,” Miroku replied softly, adding a slight shake of his head.
“But-”
Miroku shook his head firmly, closing his eyes. “She took the Jewel shard.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Inuyasha growled quietly. “What-”
“Don’t ask,” Miroku said. “I can’t. Inuyasha, after today, after what you must have seen in your own nightmare, please don’t ask.”
Inuyasha was lost. There was something deep inside Miroku, something that had been hurt bad, and he had no idea how to fix it. The monk pushed away from him, slowly, stiffly climbing to his feet. Inuyasha followed him, tentatively holding out an arm for Miroku to lean against. He took it with a small smile, and Inuyasha cherished the press of their bodies together. It would take a long time, he suspected, before the frantic cries of his pack, both real and illusory, left his mind. They walked back to the others, where Sango and Kirara stood around Shippo, a circle of smashed and broken roots around them. They were greeted with hollow eyes and tight frowns.
“Kirara,” Miroku said quietly. “I know you’re tired, but would you be able to take us to a nearby village? We need a safe place.”
She nodded instantly and they gratefully climbed on her back.
“What about your staff?” Shippo asked in a quiet voice.
Miroku blinked at him then exchanged an exhausted look with Inuyasha and Sango.
“It was my father’s,” he said quietly.
“We’ll find it,” Inuyasha said decisively. The thought of Miroku using his wind tunnel to fight made him sick to his stomach, even with the Saimyosho all dead or flown away. He didn't think he could stand to see any of his pack in danger for a while, but even just the whistling of the wind would spark fear in his mind for the time being.
It didn’t take too long to find the staff half-buried under some vines. Miroku hopped off Kirara to get it, but Inuyasha slipped off after him, pressing a hand against Sango's arm as she moved to help. Inuyasha knelt down next to Miroku and used his claws to help dig it free. Miroku didn't meet his eyes, didn't say anything, just nodded tightly in thanks. Inuyasha followed him back to Kirara with a stone sitting heavy in his chest.
And then they were safely in the air, far from the reach of the creeping roots and lingering ghosts. The sky had cleared from clouds and miasma, leaving a mockingly gorgeous day stretched out before them. Kirara flew at a fraction of her normal speed, but they clung to her and each other in silence for the entire ride. She brought them to a nearby town, setting down in front of what looked like a tavern. The group immediately earned several suspicious looks from the people nearby, hence why they usually didn’t fly in on Kirara. Sango seriously considered just stabbing their eyes out, but didn’t know if she had the energy. Miroku stumbled into the tavern and asked for a room. The man looked him over and then took in the ragged group standing behind him. He named his price, and it was exorbitantly high. Miroku’s lips pressed together firmly, and Sango reached for her sword. Instead, the monk pulled the coin purse from his robes and silently handed over the amount. It was the first time she’d ever seen him pay without extensively haggling first.
The man led them to a small, shabby room. There was a pile of blankets on the floor, but no futons or screen divider, and the fire was unlit. They heaved a collective sigh and set to work. Inuyasha arranged the blankets into a nest beside the irori while Miroku stoked the fire to life. Sango pulled out the few bits of dried meats and vegetables from her carrying cloth and passed them over to Shippo. The kit half-heartedly gnawed on them for a little while, watching them all with careful eyes.
“We have access to a bath,” Miroku said quietly. “We should probably use it before the other customers come in.”
Another long, anxious look passed between the group. They were loathed to be separated again, but they all stank and were covered in dirt, sweat, and grime. Sango picked up Shippo and went for their turn first. No one thought it worth mentioning that she brought Hiraikotsu with her. After some thought, Kirara padded after them, likely to stand guard. Inuyasha was left watching Miroku, noting how the monk avoided his gaze.
“I’m not going to ask what happened today,” Inuyasha finally said. “I just want to know what I can do.” A shake of the head was all the answer he got, and Inuyasha sighed. “Okay. Well, if you’re not going to talk, I am. I almost lost all of you today, and that scared the shit out of me.”
Miroku glanced up from the fire, emotion swirling in his eyes.
“In Naraku’s illusion, I almost lost you as well. Kikyo was there, and it was fifty years ago and she was dying again, but you all were there as well. You were hurt and in danger and I couldn’t save you!” Inuyasha huffed, running a hand down his face. “Miroku, my own personal hell was watching you suffer and not being able to do anything about it. And then I got out of it, and I heard you screaming, and the only thing I could focus on was getting to you. Then with Kikyo, when she asked if I was going to kill her, I honestly didn’t know. She was threatening you and I couldn’t-”
Inuyasha broke off, blinking hard at the wall. His ears were pinned back and his fingers curled into fists where they rested on his legs. Eventually, he continued.
“I saw you suffering so many times today, and it almost killed me. Being able to do something about it was the only thing that kept me sane. So I’m not going to push, I’m not going to demand that you talk about whatever happened. I can’t imagine what horrors you saw, and I know that you and Sango will deal with that in your own time. But please,” he turned shining eyes back to Miroku. “Please let me help. I don’t care what you need me to do, I’ll do it. I just need to make things right.”
Miroku stared back at him, tears stinging at his own eyes. Inuyasha’s distress washed over him, brushing aside a little of his own hurt. His expression softened and he scooted over to sit beside Inuyasha, leaning against his chest. Inuyasha’s arms instantly came to wrap around him, and he rested his chin on top of Miroku’s head.
“You all were in danger in my illusion as well,” Miroku murmured after a while, and Inuyasha’s arms pressed him closer. “But it was the wind tunnel. It was drawing you in, and I couldn’t stop it.”
He didn’t say any more, and Inuyasha closed his eyes. He had suspected something similar, but that didn’t make it less painful. The worst fears were those that may come to pass – or those that already had. They were the same fears that had been lingering in each of their minds for ages, and he doubted they would go away.
Miroku breathed in Inuyasha’s scent, slowly drawing the lingering tension from his body and mind. What he had said to Kikyo had been true – he would accept whatever came to pass. And as for his feelings for Inuyasha, well, he’d spoken the truth on that count as well. They all had more pressing issues at hand than some hopeless romance. But Kikyo’s words had cut him deeply. He was a dead man walking, and he’d managed to forget that for a time. Kikyo had shown that Inuyasha’s love lingered strongly, and Miroku knew he had no right to it. Not if he had no life to spend. Not with the cold shadow of the wind tunnel lingering over him, reminding him that at any moment he could be the death of all those dear to him. No, he would not be so cruel.
When Sango and Shippo returned from their bath, Sango nodded softly at the pair still entwined on the floor. She placed a gentle hand on Miroku’s shoulder as she passed before curling up in the nest of blankets with Shippo. Kirara stood by the door, ready to guard the next group to the baths. Inuyasha and Miroku obediently stood and followed her lead.
The bath was a simple hole in the stone floor, heated by a fire underneath. It was barely big enough for two people, but they made do. They kept knocking elbows and knees, but both felt better after getting clean. Inuyasha determinedly didn’t stare at the deep purple bruises forming along Miroku’s skin. He also tried to ignore how much just touching the monk seemed to help the pervasive feeling of wrong that seemed to follow him. He wasn't going to push. He wasn't going to press. And he wasn't going to let Miroku know how desperately he wanted to cling to him.
When they walked back to the room, Sango immediately met Miroku's eyes, a little pleading in her gaze. Shippo was sitting with his back to Sango, though he'd also angled his head away from the door when the others got back. He was hiding his face as much as he could without being obvious about it, but Miroku still caught the tear tracks on his cheeks. Saw the way the fox's little shoulders shook as he tried to hold back the sobs that were threatening to break through. Inuyasha was frozen beside him, and Sango seemed to be at a loss. Miroku stepped forward and sat down in the pile of blankets next to Shippo. He shifted his leg slightly so that he barely bumped the kit's side, just enough to let him know that he was there. Shippo let in a strangled, hitching breath but didn't look at him.
Miroku hugged his hand along Shippo's side - the kit was so small that while Miroku's thumb rested on his shoulder, his spread fingers reached down to his hip. It gave Miroku plenty of purchase to slowly drag the kit towards him. Once Shippo reached Miroku's crossed legs, he gave up all pretenses and climbed into Miroku's lap. His fingers curled into the fabric of his kesa and he buried his face into Miroku's chest. He didn't say anything, but a few hiccupping sobs began to wrack through his small body. Miroku wrapped his arms around the little fox and began rocking them both from side to side in a gentle swaying motion.
"It's okay," he whispered, his lips brushing along the tangled mess of ginger hair. "I know it might not seem like it right now, but it will be okay again. We're all here for you. We're not going anywhere." He squeezed his eyes shut as Shippo wailed and burrowed further into his chest. "Let it out. It's good to cry - let whatever you're feeling run its course. You're safe here."
Sango hadn't moved away from her spot beside him, and he caught her angrily swiping away a few tears of her own. He subtly leaned into her until his side was pressed against hers, and she reluctantly lowered her brow to rest against his shoulder. Kirara was curled up against her abdomen, but had worked her front paws onto Miroku's lap to knead gently against Shippo's leg. Miroku didn't lift his head from where it was resting on top of Shippo's, but he met Inuyasha's eyes. At his silent insistence, Inuyasha slunk over to Miroku's other side and sat down. He hesitated for just a moment, and then curled one arm around Miroku's back so that his hand could rest on Sango's shoulders as well.
Shippo's cries had slowed down a little, so Miroku began rubbing his thumb up and down the kit's back. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his hair, and whispered "I love you."
Shippo wailed again, his fists clinging to Miroku with all his strength, but he still sobbed out a broken "I love you" in return. Miroku closed his eyes and started humming, a soft and low tune that sounded like a lullaby. Shippo sagged against him, his cries quieting down into small whimpers, interspersed with an occasional hiccup or snuffle. It didn't take much longer after that for him to fall asleep.
Inuyasha tugged some of the blankets they were sitting on out from under them, and they all maneuvered themselves around Miroku and Shippo. Everyone ended up twisted around at least two others, with heads pillowed on shoulders or chests or legs, arms clutching whatever body parts were near at hand. Inuyasha buried his nose into Miroku's shoulder and wrapped his arms tighter around Sango's waist, a hand cradling Shippo's side, while Kirara curled against his stomach. Sango had her head on Miroku's thigh, her legs tangled with Inuyasha's. And all the while, Miroku hadn't stopped humming his quiet lullaby.
Inuyasha watched as one by one, the others slowly drifted off to sleep. He tried to follow suit. But outside it was midday, and the town was bustling with the sounds of voices and footfalls and potential danger. Only once Kirara's gentle purring had dropped off, and Miroku's lullaby had finally faded away, did Inuyasha force himself to close his eyes. He knew that he'd be waking up constantly to check their surroundings, to comfort one of the others or to escape his own nightmares.
It didn't matter.
His pack was here, and they were safe.
They could deal with whatever else may come.
~*~
She stared down at the glittering pink gem in her hands. Such a simple thing to have wrought so much pain and suffering. But then, that's what caused most anguish in the world - power. Power in the hands of those who would use it for ill. Those who couldn't control it properly. She hadn't fully understood it when she was alive, but her current condition had given her greater insight into its nature. The Shikon Jewel was made up of many moving parts, and she had been swept up into its story. She knew that she could no more escape it than she could change what had already come to pass. So she walked through the castle and the night, a specter once more, until she could finally reveal herself.
"You are careless, Naraku."
He spun around, having missed her presence. "Kikyo."
"You are blind to the outside world with your puppet broken," she mused. "But your ignorance stretches much further." He was glaring at her, danger in his eyes. "Do not think that your pretty sorcery could work on me. I will not be swayed by a mere shard of the Jewel, just as you cannot hide from me with a simple barrier. It may deter the others, but you and I have a more profound connection, do we not?"
She held up the shard of the Jewel, still dangling from the broken twine she had snapped from that monk's throat. She looked at it thoughtfully, then tossed it at Naraku. He caught it on instinct alone, and watched her warily.
"You seek this, don't you?" she asked. "Then I will leave it in your possession. After all, I have no need for its power...unlike you." She held his gaze. "I know your desires, Naraku. I know what it is you seek. But know this - your blood and your fate cannot be changed."
He grimaced and curled his hand protectively around the shard. "Then why give me so much of the Jewel? Surely, you must know that I have more of it. Why give me such power? Am I not the one you seek to destroy in vengeance for yourself?"
She smiled at him. "I do not expect you to understand. And I do not expect you to be swayed by me. You know that you cannot keep me prisoner here, but neither will I hide. If you have business with me, send a messenger. Otherwise, leave me be."
He glanced down at the shard in his hand and back up at her. "That's it? You're giving me this, and leaving?"
"Oh, no," she said calmly. "This is a barter, not a gift. Those were simply my terms of business."
He watched her carefully. "And what is it I can do for you, my dear?"