Chapter Text
She walked along the edge of the lake, compelled forward by the same silent insistence that had been driving her for so long. The mountain still called, but it seemed more distant, somehow. There was something else that she had to address. Some other purpose that summoned her. Her soul collectors wound around her like ribbons, whispering their secrets yet providing no hint as to her reason for being here. The moon rose high in the sky and illuminated the forest around her. Something tugged at her mind, drawing her further towards the water’s edge.
There was a young woman lying half-out of the water on the rocky shore, battered and scarred and unconscious. Kikyo could sense the life fading from her, but it felt wrong and twisted, empty yet more controlled than any human could achieve. It was not the girl’s soul, she realized with a start. It was stolen, repurposed to fuel a body that should have long since crumbled to dust.
Kikyo raised a hand, and the soul collector that had been about to gift her another spirit of a dead maiden turned and placed it in the back of the unconscious young woman instead. She watched as the soul sank into her skin, a slight glow emanating from her body before the soul was accepted. The young woman’s eyes opened slowly, languid with the hollow exhaustion that Kikyo knew too well. She didn’t know how long this undead girl had been without fresh souls to replenish herself, but she had been close to fading from this world.
But as the girl looked around slowly, her eyes caught the next demon which brought a soul to revive her. Her expression twisted into anger and she pushed herself up, even as the orb of white light disappeared into her skin.
“Don’t interfere,” she muttered, and then shook her head as the new energy rushed into her. “Get out of here! I don’t want them! Just leave me alone!”
She batted weakly at a third soul collector which passed by her. The demon circled back to Kikyo instead, giving her the soul grasped in its arms.
“You wanted to die?” Kikyo asked, drawing the girl’s attention. “Or rather, you wanted to remain dead?”
“You…” the young woman whispered, climbing to her feet. “You’re Kikyo, aren’t you?”
She pushed down the spark of surprise within her. She had already been caught off-guard by finding another individual bound to this cursed half-life. “How is it that you know my name?”
“I knew it was you,” the young woman ground out harshly.
She took a few steps back, and suddenly fire burst from her body in a swirling storm. It spread out in all directions, brushing past Kikyo’s face. She closed her eyes to avoid the dancing flames, and by the time the heat had dissipated and she opened them again, the young woman was gone. Another soul trapped in this eternal torment, walking the earth after having been torn from her resting place. Had Urasue been responsible for her return, as well? It was possible that there were others who had attempted the same techniques, but Kikyo had never before met anyone else so fully able to reanimate humans. And this young woman, despite the youki so obviously placed in her body, was unquestionably human. How many others were there? How many souls shared her suffering?
Something else pulled her forward. There were dozens more souls crying out in silent agony, begging to be set free yet unable to escape. They drew her ever onward, away from where the young woman had vanished and towards the growing sounds of battle.
She saw the bodies first, dozens of dead men with their blood leaching into the soil. Their swords and spears were shattered and broken, apparently having encountered an impenetrable opponent. All of the corpses held the same insignias. They had all fought on the same side. Whatever they had been battling against either disappeared when dead, or had not lost any life. There was a vague hint of youki around the field, but not enough to indicate a demonic attack. Instead, there was deep unrest in the air, torment even beyond the ravages of war. Something deeply wrong was happening here.
She followed the screams of dying men closer and closer to a nearby castle, the home of the human warriors and the target of the attackers. It was there that she caught sight of the encroaching army. Soldiers moving stiffly in unnaturally perfect rows, their limbs rigid and expressions set. It took her a moment to realize that their bodies were made of clay, and the frenzied agony of souls was coming from inside of them. They were responsible for the siege. They had killed all the warriors that had emerged to fight them, and the few that remained along the castle’s walls were having no success as they fired down with mere arrows. Their torches offered scarce illumination across the battlefield, and the clay soldiers didn’t need to see.
The army was unstoppable, but Kikyo knew that there had to be someone controlling them. And there, in the middle of the ranks, sat a man astride a horse, clad in blue armour and a waving his longsword.
“Destroy them all!” he was shouting. “Fight! Drench the field in their blood! Fill this world with carnage!” And then he turned his face to the sky and shook his sword. “Look at me now, mother! I have carried on your legacy!”
She could sense the dozens of souls trapped within him, crammed tightly together as he slowly devoured their essence. It was a painfully familiar torment, one that she constantly ignored within herself. As his army charged, the man’s cry broke off sharply and he twisted around on the back of his horse, eyes darting across the battlefield. He was looking for something. Perhaps he had sensed her, too. She didn’t think he’d seen her. The scarce remnants of self-preservation within her told her to keep it that way. As he turned back to the battle, she slipped away into the trees.
~*~
“These cakes are the best!” Shippo exclaimed, stuffing another one into his mouth. “The cherries are early this year!”
“I’m not complaining,” Inuyasha said, grabbing another handful of the fruit from the bag that Sango was carrying.
“It’s certainly nice to have funds available for things like this,” Miroku said, sending a proud smile over at Inuyasha, who blushed. Miroku hadn’t stopped talking about how Inuyasha stood up to the Headman since it happened.
“I’m just happy to have supplies again,” Sango said. “We’re going to be moving quickly for a while.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this far north,” Shippo added quietly, staring out at the path ahead of them. “How do we even know where to go?”
“I know the area a little,” Inuyasha shrugged. “But I still have no idea where Naraku might be hiding. I guess it depends on whether he’s taken over another human castle, or if he’s found somewhere else to lay low.”
“Are you up to a little more flying today?” Sango asked Kirara, who was perched on her shoulder. The twin-tail currently had red juice dripping down her front and her mouth was stained red. She nodded absently as she chewed on another cherry.
“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Inuyasha said warningly, and Kirara shot him an affronted glare.
“Why don’t we stop for a wash before we go?” Sango suggested with a smile. “We can give everyone time to digest.”
There was a shallow stream nearby and they took turns drinking deeply and splashing the water over their faces. Shippo and Kirara both waded right in, and soon they were wrestling and running around in the cool water. Miroku watched them fondly, occasionally lifting an arm for one or both of them to dart past. He glanced up to share the enjoyment with Inuyasha, and instead found his partner staring hard into the distance, brows furrowed and a deep frown slashed across his face as he sniffed the air.
“What’s wrong?” Miroku asked at once.
“There’s something…” Inuyasha said vaguely, pushing to his feet. “No, there’s no mistake! I can smell that ogre’s medicinal herbs!”
“Ogre?” Sango asked, already stripping off her travel clothes.
Inuyasha spun around to face Miroku, and there was fear in his eyes. “It’s Urasue!”
It felt as though someone had punched Miroku in the gut. He swallowed hard. “I thought she was dead. Kikyo took her soul.”
“That’s what I thought,” Inuyasha growled, his ears swivelling wildly as he tried to pick up her trail. He glanced at Miroku once more, something flickering behind his eyes. “Wait here!”
He took off leaping down the river, quickly disappearing from view.
“So who’s Urasue?” Sango asked as she and Miroku jumped onto Kirara’s back.
“She’s the one who brought Kikyo back to life!” Shippo said, clambering onto Miroku’s shoulder. “Urasue stole the soil from her grave to make her body and then took Miroku’s soul to revive her!”
“It wasn’t a pleasant experience,” Miroku said tightly in answer to Sango’s horrified look. “For Inuyasha or myself.”
“Is that why he told us to stay behind?” Sango asked gently.
“Most likely,” Miroku sighed. “But it truly doesn’t make sense. Kikyo killed Urasue!”
“Those herbs smell the same as that horrid mixture she had you in,” Shippo said, turning his nose to the air. “I don’t know if it’s her or not, but I’m guessing it’s the same spell.”
“And he expects us to stay behind?” Sango grimaced.
“He won’t be thinking clearly,” Miroku said softly.
Kirara soon caught up to Inuyasha and he growled when he saw them all. But he kept on going, veering away from the water as he caught a fresh scent. There was the earthy smell of clay mixed with the putrid herbs, and an unfamiliar scent accompanied by rapid breathing, and no heartbeat. It smelled like ash and graveyard soil. It smelled like Kikyo. The trees grew too close together for Kirara to follow him directly so she rose above the canopy as he continued on.
“What are you doing?” an angry voice was shouting, fear making it shrill. “Leave me alone!”
Inuyasha felt the youki sparking within him.
“No! I refuse to go back! Let me go!”
There were three clay soldiers standing in a group, one with a hand clamped over the forearm of a young woman who was struggling to break free. Inuyasha tore through the soldiers with his claws and a flash of youki. As the bodies crumbled to the ground, three white orbs rose slowly into the air and drifted away.
“You,” Inuyasha hissed, whirling on the young woman. “Why were these clay soldiers after you? And why do you reek of herbs and soil? Are you working with Urasue?”
The young woman stumbled back, startlingly pale and breathing erratically. Yet hatred flashed across her face and she spat on the ground at the mention of Urasue’s name. She shrank back in fear as Kirara descended through the trees behind Inuyasha.
“You were revived by her, weren’t you?” Miroku asked quietly as he climbed off Kirara’s back. “Were the soldiers bringing you back to her?”
“She’s dead,” the young woman snapped. And then her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.
Inuyasha moved to catch her but Miroku cried out “Don’t!” Inuyasha shot him a deeply concerned look, and Miroku shook his head. “Don’t touch her. If she’s in need of new souls to sustain her, she might try to take yours.”
He stepped past Inuyasha and knelt down beside the unconscious young woman. He could feel Inuyasha’s eyes burning in to him in mute horror as his partner realized how Miroku must have found out about that possibility. Miroku lifted a hand above the young woman and ran it through the air above her, feeling the souls trapped inside of her. He reached out a hand to touch her but Inuyasha’s claws dug into his sleeve and wrenched his arm back.
“What are you doing?” Inuyasha gasped, eyes darting between him and the young woman.
“I can hold on to my soul if she tries to take it,” Miroku promised gently. “I want to see if it’s safe to touch her so we can help her.”
Inuyasha stared at him for a moment longer, trying to read his expression, and he reluctantly released his grip on Miroku’s arm. The monk placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. She shifted a little and her brows furrowed, but nothing else happened.
“It’s odd,” Miroku breathed. “I can feel the spirit fading inside of her, but she’s not trying to save herself.”
“You all take care of her, then, and see what you can learn from her,” Inuyasha said, pushing to his feet. “I need to go find out what’s going on.”
He disappeared through the trees before any of the others could stop him. Miroku sighed and turned to Sango.
“If you wouldn’t mind looking after her,” he said a little wryly. “I’m going to go make sure he’s alright.”
“Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Sango advised, lifting the young woman into her arms and settling her onto Kirara’s back.
As Kirara took off in the opposite direction, Miroku reached out with his mind and tugged gently on the nenju beads. He waited for a moment and tugged again, making sure to keep his touch as light as possible. Inuyasha crashed through the trees and skidded to a stop beside him, Tessaiga transformed in his hand.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking around wildly.
Miroku sighed softly. “I knew that you were tense, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
Inuyasha’s eyes widened and then he looked away harshly, growling to himself. “It’s nothing.”
“Denying your feelings won’t make them go away,” Miroku said gently. “I’m here to help you.”
Inuyasha’s expression twisted in mild pain for a moment, and then the fight seemed to bleed out of him. “Hop on,” he said, catching Miroku’s hand and swinging him onto his back.
Miroku pressed a kiss to Inuyasha’s jaw, and the hanyou’s hands clenched tightly where they held onto his legs. They sped through the forest, following along the river until the trees dropped away along the edge of a lake. There was no sign of anyone else around, no hint of clay soldiers or whoever had been controlling them.
“The scent ends here,” Inuyasha said in frustration as Miroku slid off his back. “Damn it all, what’s going on?”
“It’s odd that there’s nothing here,” Miroku said, eyeing the calm surface of the water.
“Not nothing,” Inuyasha said, his voice suddenly subdued. He knelt down and grasped some of the soil by the edge of the water and let it run through his fingers. “Kikyo was here. Last night, judging by the smell.”
He threw the handful of soil into the lake with a growl. Miroku looked across the water to where a faint plume of smoke was rising through the trees beyond the forest.
“Do you remember what the innkeeper said last night?” he asked quietly. “More and more castled were being raided and destroyed.”
“That’s always the case,” Inuyasha bit out.
“The clay soldiers might be behind it,” Miroku said, a little reluctantly. “It sounded like the movements of a single army, yet no one had seen them stop for food or other supplies.”
Inuyasha’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You think it’s Urasue’s soldiers?”
“Someone has resurrected them, and there has to be someone telling them what to do. If Urasue really is dead, then that leaves limited options.”
A cold numbness spread through Inuyasha’s limbs, and nausea rolled in his gut. “Do you think it’s Kikyo?”
“We can’t know for certain,” Miroku said carefully. “But it is odd that she happened to be in the same area as another revived woman and the clay soldiers, and we know that she has unusual abilities.”
“Damn it all!” Inuyasha swore viciously. “I can’t believe she would do something like this!”
“We don’t know that it’s her,” Miroku pointed out. “And she may have good reason.”
Inuyasha snarled. “For creating an army? For killing hundreds of people?”
Neither of them had an answer. Both of them followed the trail of smoke across the sky, dancing slightly in the wind.
“Miroku,” Inuyasha said suddenly and earnestly, turning to face him with startling intensity. “You know that I love you, right?”
“Of course,” Miroku said, taken aback and instantly wary. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I have to go after her,” Inuyasha murmured. “I have to see how Kikyo’s involved.”
“Of course you do,” Miroku said, frowning. “And you know that I have to go with you. Not because I don’t trust you,” he hurried to clarify. “But you tend to end up getting hurt when she’s involved, and I need to be there for you.”
Inuyasha looked deeply ashamed, his ears pinned to his head and his jaw clenched. But at Miroku’s steady and unwavering gaze, his shoulders sagged and he stepped forward into the monk’s waiting arms.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He held on for a long moment, but then he shook his head and moved away. “I can’t let you come with me, though. Not yet, at least. I can’t risk you having your soul ripped away again. Please…”
Their eyes held for what seemed like ages, both trying to express silently what they couldn’t put into words.
“I’ll go make sure that the girl is alright,” Miroku said finally, offering the words between them. “And then Sango and I will find you on Kirara. Just promise me that you won’t try to take on the army alone.”
Inuyasha huffed a breath and shifted uneasily, but then he nodded. “I promise.”
Miroku’s hand wound its way behind Inuyasha’s neck as they pressed their lips together, breathing each other in. And then Inuyasha was gone, racing along the edge of the lake so fast that it looked like he was flying. Miroku watched until he disappeared from view and then turned and walked back in the direction they had come from. He called out to Kirara as he went, asking for a ride. She appeared some time later, sniffed him over once before offering her back.
Sango and Shippo were sitting outside a small shrine at the far edge of the forest, arranging rocks in a circle for a fire. Sango sent a questioning glance at Miroku as Kirara touched down.
“Kikyo was in the area,” Miroku reported. “Inuyasha’s gone to see if she has anything to do with what’s going on. There seems to be an attack happening at a castle nearby.”
Sango eyed him. “How worried should I be?”
He shrugged as he sat down next to her. “How’s the girl doing?”
“She hasn’t woken yet,” Sango said, glancing over at the shrine. “She seems pretty weak. But if she’s like Kikyo, I don’t know what I can do for her.”
“Neither do I,” Miroku admitted. “From what I’ve gathered, souls are the only thing that sustains Kikyo.”
“So this girl has been living off of stolen souls as well,” Sango said grimly.
“It would appear that way,” Miroku sighed. “We won’t know the full story until she wakes. But I suppose it’s possible that Urasue revived others before she tried the same with Kikyo.”
“Kikyo,” an unfamiliar voice sounded from the shrine, and they whipped around to see the young woman leaning heavily against the outer wall. “What do you know about the woman who killed my mother?”
She slid down to the ground, panting heavily. Sango and Miroku rushed over to her.
“How are you feeling?” Sango asked, feeling for a temperature before the coldness of the young woman’s skin reminded her of what they were dealing with.
“You should rest some more,” Miroku advised, kneeling down in front of her. “Your body is drained right now.”
“I should be dead,” the woman said bitterly. “If those pesky soul collectors hadn’t interfered… She should have just left me be.”
“You met Kikyo,” Miroku said.
“I’d wondered what happened to her after she fell off that cliff.”
“You were there?” Miroku asked sharply.
“You fought through my clay warriors,” the girl said, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. “I watched from across the bridge.”
“You said that Urasue was your mother?” Sango prompted.
“That’s what she said. She called us her children. Kawaramaru and I were resurrected by her and became her servants. I’m Enju.”
“You were the one to make the clay soldiers?” Miroku asked. “Can you tell me why?”
“It was the reason she brought me back,” Enju said, and she sounded incredibly tired. “I was a potter before I died. She taught me to make clay bodies and fill them with souls harvested by Kawaramaru. He was a samurai before, until his followers killed him. He would lead the clay warriors and all the souls of the people they killed would come to me to use.”
“She used you for your skills,” Miroku said. “Just as she tried to do with Kikyo.”
“She told us all about her plans to find the Shikon Jewel,” Enju said, looking away. “I thought that if she succeeded, she might not need me anymore. She might have freed me and I’d finally be able to rest in peace. But then Kikyo killed her, and now I’m bound to this stupid world forever!”
“Why continue making clay soldiers, then?” Sango asked.
“Kawaramaru ordered me to. Every time I’d run away, he’d catch me again. When I would start to fade, he’d pour souls into me. I never wanted to help him! I hate all the senseless killing and I despise living off the souls of the dead! I just want to disappear! You can’t possibly know what it’s like!”
“Perhaps we can’t,” Miroku offered. “But you don’t have to let yourself die to find peace. You’ve been given a second chance at life. Not many others can say the same.” He saw her reject his words, and he shifted to look behind her into the shrine. “Do you see that statue of Buddha? He treasures life in all its forms. He knows that all life is worth living.”
“This is no life!” Enju spat, poison in her words. “I’m not alive, monk. Can’t you see that? I’m a shell of a person! I’m hollow inside. I’m not connected to this world, or who I used to be. Everything that made me who I am was stripped away when I died, and now I’m just some twisted imitation of myself! I’m nothing – I’m worse than nothing! I survive off the stolen souls of people who will never find a resting place. Who would want to live this way?”
Miroku had no answer. All he could think was what Kikyo must have endured when she was brought back. Inuyasha had admitted that she’d changed, but maintained that she was still the same person she used to be. Miroku wondered how true that could possibly be. But at the same time, it gave him hope.
“You don’t have to follow Kawaramaru’s orders any longer,” he told her firmly. “But you cannot give up. Find a way to atone for your guilt by putting good into the world. Find a reason to keep living, and someday this pain you feel will subside.”
He could feel Sango’s eyes on him, but he didn’t meet her gaze.
Kirara’s head snapped up and she growled, her ears and nose pointing towards the forest.
“They won’t let me go,” Enju said flatly.
“Well, we’re not letting them take you,” Sango said, lifting Hiraikotsu. “Come on!”
She pulled Enju onto Kirara’s back behind her. A group of clay soldiers were marching through the trees, their spears pointed towards Enju.
“Stay back!” Sango warned them, but they didn’t stop.
“They won’t listen,” Miroku said, summoning spiritual power along the length of his staff. “Lifeless clay would never understand!”
He knocked the spears aside with one sweep of his staff then cut through their bodies with another strike, shattering them to pieces and a burst of power. The souls began to rise into the air, and Miroku muttered a quick prayer for them. Return to the soil and find eternal peace. He could feel the anguish in their spirits slowly fading away.
“It’s no use,” Enju said, shaking her head. “Kawaramaru has hundreds of soldiers under his command. No humans can fight them – they’re impenetrable to spears, swords, and arrows.”
“Don’t worry,” Sango assured her. “We specialize in killing the unkillable. Come on, Miroku!”
He leapt onto Kirara’s back and she took off.
“Inuyasha’s gone after Kawaramaru’s army,” Miroku said as Kirara raced towards the source of the smoke in the air. “What can we expect to find there?”
“They’ll have killed everyone by now,” Enju ground out. “He likes to break down fortresses for sport. And he’ll destroy anyone who gets in his way.”
~*~
The castle was deathly silent, dozens of clay soldiers lined up along the walls and outside the gates standing perfectly still. Inuyasha could count maybe eighty in sight from his position on the top of a tree, with even more inside the walls. There was only one voice sounding from anywhere in the castle grounds, a man’s cruel laugh and the occasional sound of something breaking. There was no sign of Kikyo anywhere. Inuyasha wished that he wasn’t so deeply relieved at that, for more than one reason. He didn’t want to think about it. The man inside the castle was most likely the one who’d been controlling the soldiers, so he was the one that Inuyasha needed to get to.
He crept along the ground, approaching the castle from the side and trying to remain unnoticed. The empty eyes of the soldiers were staring blankly out, unblinking and unseeing. None of them so much as moved as he emerged from the forest and ran to the base of the wall. Inuyasha gathered his youki around him and leapt in a flash of amber light, soaring high over the walls and onto the roof of the castle. He landed silently, using his aura to slow his fall, but he heard the man’s voice cut off sharply all the same.
He took a tentative step forward and then fire burst to life in front of him, swirling for a scarce heartbeat before condensing into the body of a large human. He was a good head taller than Inuyasha and heavily muscled, and wielded his sword expertly.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the man barked in a tone that suggested he was used to being obeyed immediately.
“You’re the one who’s been commanding the clay figures,” Inuyasha said, slowly reaching for Tessaiga. “You reek of the dead.”
“My name is Kawaramaru,” the man said, drawing himself up to his full impressive height. “I am Urasue’s son.”
Something cold dropped in Inuyasha’s gut. “Urasue’s son?”
“I know you, as well,” Kawaramaru said, eyes narrowing. “You’re that wretched half-breed who cavorted with the woman who killed my mother!”
Inuyasha drew Tessaiga but then a faint whistling caught his ear and he launched into the air, just in time to avoid a volley of spears that flew towards him. He landed on the edge of the outer castle wall, grimacing as dozens of clay soldiers ran for him.
“Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?” Kawaramaru shouted, sliding down the roof after him. “I have raised a dozen castles to the ground! I can kill you in a heartbeat!”
“Then prove it!” Inuyasha snarled, slashing at an approaching clay soldier with his claws.
An acrid scent immediately filled the air, and Inuyasha stumbled back as his eyes and lungs burned. The hollow inside of the soldier was leaking a steady stream of poison into the air. Inuyasha coughed and covered his nose with his sleeve, struggling to stay upright as his head pounded and the world blurred. That was serious stuff, if it was affecting him that strongly. He dug the iron mask from his robes and shoved it onto his face. Then Kawaramaru’s sword bit deep into the stone of the wall where he’d been standing, and Inuyasha flung himself to the side. The poison was still searing at his throat, slowly suffocating him despite how much he hacked and coughed. More soldiers were rushing at him and Inuyasha lifted Tessaiga.
He latched onto the vague youki he could feel leaking from Kawaramaru and sent the Wind Scar flying towards it. He blinked the tears from his eyes just long enough to see the man leap out of the way, but a good twenty or so soldiers were caught up in the blast. Their bodies were completely disintegrated, and no poison remained.
But then the stone wall began to crumble, unable to sustain the damage from the Wind Scar. Inuyasha leapt free of the falling chunks of rock and landed outside the castle. He needed to draw out the soldiers so he could face them properly. So he raced along the bottom of the wall to the front gates of the castle. Clay figures were standing outside the door and began marching towards him as soon as they sensed his presence. Inuyasha closed his eyes and let the Wind Scar rise around him, pulling it along the sword even without a clear target. And he sent the six lines of power racing along the ground and crashing through the front gates, tearing through the clay soldiers as they did so. There was an angry cry from within the walls, and the soldiers began pouring out towards him in a seemingly endless stream.
Inuyasha waited for the soldiers to approach, batting away and spears that came near him. When enough were concentrated in one place, Inuyasha sent another Wind Scar their way. And then over the roar of breaking bodies, the sound of heartbeats reached his ears. He spun around to see Kirara flying towards him, dipping down so that Miroku could jump off her back.
“That man,” Miroku said as he reached Inuyasha’s side. “Is that Kawaramaru?”
“You know him?” Inuyasha asked, eyeing the man as he emerge from the castle amongst his soldiers.
“The young woman was forced to make these soldiers for him,” Miroku explained quickly. “They were both revived to serve Urasue.”
The soldiers began to charge. Inuyasha leapt to meet them, concentrating his youki into Tessaiga to dispel the bodies completely. His heart hammered as Miroku fought by his side, his spiritual powers breaking through soldier after soldier.
“There are too many of them,” Miroku said, his eyes darting to where a seemingly endless slow of soldiers were coming from inside the castle. “I’ll use the wind tunnel.”
“No!” Inuyasha gasped, grasping hold of Miroku’s wrist before his other hand could even reach the mala beads. “Those things are full of poison. They’ll kill you if you suck them in!”
Miroku tore his arm free just in time to slice through another soldier. He dug in his robes and pulled out a handful of sutras, sent them flying at the approaching mass of opponents. “Then what do you suggest?”
Inuyasha cut through a spear that was heading towards Miroku and hurled another Wind Scar through the soldiers. His eyes landed on Kawaramaru, but he didn’t dare attack.
“Sango!” he shouted up instead. “You can’t use Hiraikotsu or this whole place will be filled with miasma! Go after Kawaramaru and take him down!”
He caught Miroku staring at him as they continued to fight. “Do you intend to kill Kawaramaru?”
“Of course!” Inuyasha snapped, slashing through another row of soldiers. “He’s killed hundreds if not thousands of people, and he’s not human!”
Miroku swallowed but didn’t say anything more. He didn’t know what this meant for Inuyasha and Kikyo. Instead he continued fighting as fiercely as he ever had, releasing all inhibitions in the rare opportunity to destroy an opponent without worrying about loss of life. Souls were drifting into the sky like upside-down snow. Kirara was circling around the outside of the castle, but Kawaramaru had disappeared. Instead, Sango called out to them as she surveyed the scene.
“There are even more reserves inside! Less than half of them are out on the field!”
“Damn it!” Inuyasha growled as he cut through another line. His youki was straining under the pressure of releasing the Wind Scar so many times. His muscles were unusually strained, unused to relying on one fighting technique for so long. Kirara dove down into the castle and Sango threw Hiraikotsu there, destroying some of the soldiers from a safe distance. But then a wave of spears were flying at them and Kirara had to veer sharply out of the way.
“Is that the girl with her?” Inuyasha asked, jerking his head in the direction of the young woman holding on to Sango’s waist.
“Her name’s Enju,” Miroku said, his voice strained with the effort of drawing so much spiritual power. “It’s not her fault, Yash.”
“It’s been months since Urasue died!” Inuyasha growled. “And you’re telling me it isn’t until now that she wanted out? Sounds a little too convenient.”
As Kirara landed behind them to regroup, Inuyasha spun around and levelled his sword at Enju. Miroku immediately pushed between them, eyes hard and jaw set.
“She was forced to do this, Inuyasha.”
“Step aside, monk,” Enju hissed. “Let him kill me! It’s what I’ve wanted all along.”
Inuyasha’s eyes widened and then he spun around, catching the soldiers he’d allowed to get far too close. Shippo jumped onto Miroku’s back and began throwing balls of his foxfire at the soldiers, causing the clay to overhead and explode while also dissolving the poison. Sango threw Hiraikotsu again and again, catching the soldiers still emerging from the castle gates. Miroku was out of sutras. Inuyasha couldn’t get the Wind Scar to form in his mind no matter how he tried. He dug his claws into his arm and threw the red crescents of his Blades of Blood into the approaching mass of soldiers.
“Enju,” a voice said quietly from behind them.
Inuyasha spun around, snarling as Kawaramaru’s hand landed heavily on Enju’s shoulder.
“Get away from me!” Enju shouted, trying to wrench herself free. “Don’t you see? There’s no place for us in this world! Just let me go!”
“What nonsense!” Kawaramaru exclaimed, wrapping a hand around Enju’s throat and lifting her off the ground. “We were brought back for a glorious purpose! We will rule everything! Why won’t you help me, Enju? Don’t you understand that we are the natural successors of this world?”
“Let her go!” Sango commanded, her sword resting along the side of Kawaramaru’s neck. “Your soul is corrupt, you monster. No one would want to rule alongside you. She knows what you are!”
“Silence!” Kawaramaru commanded, batting the sword away like it was nothing. “You humans could never understand how we feel!”
Inuyasha growled, wanting nothing more than to rip this man in shreds, but the soldiers were pressing in on them and he couldn’t keep up. Sango was hanging back, unsure of how to get Enju free.
“You fool,” Kawaramaru muttered, lowering his head so that he could whisper in Enju’s ear. “Haven’t you realized it yet? We are reborn! We are released from the bounds of human society! We can do as we please!”
“I don’t care!” Enju cried out, pounding at the man ineffectually with her fists. “I don’t care if no one can stop us – I don’t want to do this!”
Something shifted in Kawaramaru’s eyes, and suddenly he pushed Enju harshly to the ground.
“Fine, then,” he said, taking a few steps back. “Perhaps I should show you the true depths of our power. Then you will see why it is our right to rule!”
He raised his sword high in the air, and dark clouds began swirling in the sky above him.
“Erupt from the earth,” he shouted. “Demon from Hell, I summon you!”
A bolt of lightning cracked down and struck him. The ground around him split open as it was scorched, and then the hand of a giant demon broke through the surface. The human souls that were rising into the sky suddenly veered off course, flying into the demon’s mouth and disappearing. The demon clambered up onto the ground, Kawaramaru on its shoulder as he laughed.
“Kill them!” Kawaramaru was yelling. “Kill them all!”
Inuyasha snarled as his vision flashed red, and he threw himself at the demon even as it was reaching for him. He caught its forearm with Tessaiga, ignoring the poison fumes that burst from the torn flesh and continued running up its arm. A giant hand slammed into him and grabbed him from the air, squeezing tightly.
“Inuyasha!” Miroku’s voice sounded behind him, and he twisted around to see Miroku, Sango, Enju, and Shippo all on Kirara’s back. Miroku and Sango both had their masks on and the slayer was throwing Hiraikotsu at the soldiers as Kirara rose to a safe distance. Shippo was trying to help as much as he could, throwing his spinning top and foxfire down onto the field. Inuyasha caught Miroku’s eyes and shook his head frantically, and Miroku lowered his right hand. There was a moment’s pause, and then Miroku’s staff struck the demon straight in the chest with a burst of spiritual power. The demon shrieked and stumbled back, souls escaping from the wound.
Inuyasha tore off the demon’s thumb as he freed himself and grabbed a hold of Miroku’s staff, tearing it free from the demon’s flesh. He landed on the ground and honed in on the youki leaking into the air. Just one more, and it would be over. He lifted Tessaiga above his head and threw the Wind Scar forward, catching both the demon and Kawaramaru in its path. The man screamed as his body broke apart.
The clay soldiers stood still and lifeless across the field. Inuyasha leapt onto Kirara’s back, breathing heavily and blinking the poison fumes from his eyes. Sango continued to throw Hiraikotsu across the field, destroying all the soldiers that were left. Inuyasha simply rested his head on Miroku’s shoulder and concentrated on breathing.
They touched down back at the river so that everyone could wash the dust and ash from their skin. Enju was quiet as she traced her fingers along the water’s surface.
“You know,” Miroku said softly, his gaze resting on the setting sun. “No one knows what their purpose is when they enter this world. We don’t know why we’re here or what we have to do, but we continue living anyway.”
“That’s true,” Enju murmured, rising to her feet. “I know that Kawaramaru chose the wrong path. I suppose it’s up to me to find the right one.”
“We can’t decide for you,” Sango said. “But we all wish you the best.”
They watched her leave in silence. They didn’t know if they would ever see her again, but Miroku had a feeling that she would find Kikyo once more. He hoped that they might be able to help one another.
They decided to stay at the old shrine for the night. They all felt somewhat awful from the poison fumes, so Shippo and Kirara volunteered to go find some medicinal herbs, as they wanted to save the ones they got from Jinenji for slightly more dire circumstances. Miroku and Sango finished building the fire they had started earlier and massaged their stiff muscles. None of them were particularly hungry, so they snacked on a few of the dried yams they had bought from the inn the night before and spread out their blankets on the ground. Despite all that they had said about not wanting to sleep outdoors, the moon and stars seemed particularly inviting.
Kikyo watched them from the edge of the forest. They seemed untroubled by all that had come to pass. She couldn’t say that she felt the same. She waited, knowing that sooner or later her presence would be felt. She didn’t have to wait for long. The monk’s head slowly rose as he felt a twinge in the air. He caught her eye, and silently walked over to her as the slayer remained oblivious.
“Inuyasha’s not here,” he said without preamble. “He’s out making sure we destroyed all the soldiers.”
“I did not come here for him,” she said quietly. “You encountered Urasue’s other creations?”
“We did,” he said slowly, guardedly.
“Watch out for them. Not all the undead are compelled by the same forces that bind me to this world. They could prove to be dangerous.”
“So we gathered,” he said dryly. “Are there more out there?”
“I do not know.”
“Kawaramaru is dead. Enju left.”
“Enju,” Kikyo echoed, tasting the name on her tongue. “She is alright?”
There was something in the monk’s eyes, something searching and almost sympathetic. “She is giving life a chance.”
She smiled at that. “Giving life a chance. I’m glad.”
“You’ll look out for her?”
“I will, if I happen to come across her again.”
“Thank you.”
She surveyed him thoughtfully. “You do not need to thank me, Miroku.”
She felt his eyes on her as she turned and walked away. The connection between their souls held on for a little while after that, stretching into the darkness of the night until it, too, gradually faded away.