Chapter Text
Inuyasha stared blankly as Shippo began to wail. He was vaguely aware of falling to his knees. He reached out a hand and then stopped himself – because it couldn’t be real. They couldn’t be dead. It was just…some trick. Some illusion. But if he touched them, it would be real.
Please, he begged silently. Be alive. Just open your eyes.
“Master Inuyasha!” a voice sounded from his shoulder, and he didn’t think to question Myoga’s presence. “You will burn to death if you stay here. You have to bring them both to a safer place!”
Another post crashed to the floor beside them. He staggered to his feet and concentrated his youki along his claws. He struck at the walls all around them in a frantic dash. The fire was gone, and the walls blew outwards. A few sections of the roof collapsed, but the area above the humans was already long gone. He let the rest clatter to the ground and stay there.
“Don’t cry, Shippo,” he heard himself say. “You did your best.”
“But that doesn’t matter when everyone’s dead!” Shippo wailed. “It’s all my fault! If I hadn’t brought them to this temple or fallen asleep-”
“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly. “You protected them.”
Shippo hiccupped a sob and reached for Miroku’s sleeve to try and move him.
“Don’t worry about it, Shippo,” Inuyasha said, reaching past him to grasp the front of Miroku’s robes. His body was still warm, but he was utterly limp. Inuyasha swallowed hard and set Kirara down so he could maneuver the monk onto his back. Shippo and Kirara both helped with Sango, but Kirara was struggling to stand. Shippo immediately went to carry her and Inuyasha set off, numbly following Myoga’s directions.
He’d been told to watch over the temple while his charges fled. He saw the sword lying abandoned on the ground, knew he was supposed to take it. He saw the hanyou walk out with the bodies from where he was hidden. He saw that woman slumped over, pale and lifeless. It felt as though someone had shot him. He didn’t understand why his hands were shaking. Why her face was burned into the back of his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. She shouldn’t matter to him – two of their enemies were dead, and another broken, by the looks of it. He didn’t know why the tears were slipping down his cheeks, or why his breathing was coming in shuddering gasps. Sango. The name echoed through his mind and he choked back a sob. He wanted to run to her, to hold her and tell her that he was sorry. Instead he turned his face from the Saimyosho that landed on the tree beside him and took off, disappearing into the forest.
~*~
The boy had said to lay low for a while, and Renkotsu decided that the best spot was the forge that he and Ginkotsu had been directed to before. Renkotsu had immediately set to work heating up metal scraps, and Jakotsu was bored. He rolled one of the broken cannons around with his foot and polished Jakotsutō.
“He had muscles, I’ll give you that,” he said absently. “But he wasn’t as handsome as Inuyasha, or the monk – or even that scary demon I told you about. I liked the fur.”
Renkotsu seemed to be ignoring him, which would usually piss him off, but his brother seemed more on edge than usual.
“And you’re sure Inuyasha’s alive?” he asked instead.
“Yes, you can relax,” Renkotsu said curtly.
“That’s good,” Jakotsu sighed, and stretched. “I was worried about him all through my fight with the wolf.”
Renkotsu took a sip from his clay jug and spit more fire across the iron cauldron, melting more of the metal.
“Is that why you let him go?” Renkotsu asked over his shoulder. “That wasn’t like you at all.”
Jakotsu sighed. “I can’t help it. You don’t know how fast that asshole was – or how hot Inuyasha really is. Oh, but the monk’s dead?”
“Yes.”
“Boo. No fun.”
Renkotsu walked past him to pick up the broken cannons. He looked angry. Jakotsu sighed and walked over to where Ginkotsu’s head and torso were hanging while he regenerated.
“You’ve seen him, too,” he told Ginkotsu. “He’s sexy, isn’t he? One of the best I’ve ever seen.
“Gesh,” Ginkotsu huffed.
“Just wait, Ginkotsu,” Renkotsu called over to him. “I’ll make you much stronger this time. I’ll show you what real power is all about.”
Jakotsu shrugged and poked Ginkotsu in the chest, causing him to sway back and forth on his ropes. “It’ll feel good to have arms and legs again, I bet. What’re you gonna do first when you’re all built up again?”
Ginkotsu grinned with his upper lip. “Kill Inuyasha.”
“What? No!” Jakotsu groaned. “You can have any of the others, but I keep telling you – Inuyasha’s mine! I promise I’ll kill him, just let me have him!”
“We will see how things progress,” Renkotsu said coolly, and Jakotsu sighed. He kicked one of the cannon moulds and sat down again next to the pile of mechanical parts. He’d get to Inuyasha – he’d make sure of it.
~*~
He picked a spot right by the river, where the forest still encircled them in a protective shelter but the trees parted to expose flat, moss-covered rocks. He laid each of them down carefully – as though it still mattered. Because it mattered to him. Shippo sat down next to the bodies, gasping for air through his sobs. Kirara stared wide-eyed at the both of them, her ears pinned back as she trembled. Inuyasha just stood over them, breathing hard, waiting for something to do. Because there had to be something he could do. There had to be- If there was some way- They couldn’t be-
But they were.
They were dead.
He’d let them die.
They were gone, and they weren’t coming back.
The outside world went black. All the sounds faded to a numb silence, filled with the absence of where heartbeats should be. They were gone. He’d failed them. Never before in his life had he let anyone down so spectacularly. He’d fucked up, and they’d paid for his mistake in the worst way imaginable. He- He couldn’t-
He didn’t know when he’d started running. He didn’t know where he was going. There was only chilling numbness, and underneath it, a wild, horrific, crushing panic was growing. Because they couldn’t really be gone. They couldn’t be. He’d promised to protect them. They-
It slammed into him with such force that it drove him crashing to his knees. Miroku and Sango were dead. They were both so young, still had so much left to do and to live for. Sango was going to get Kohaku back and rebuild their lives. He and Miroku were going to live together, in the peace they’d been denied for so long. It… It just didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair!
It wasn’t fair!
His claws cut through the trunk of a nearby tree, the force of his youki splintering wood into hundreds of thousands of pieces. He tore through another and another until his hands were bleeding. It didn’t help. He was still numb. He was still drowning. He needed- He needed to kill something. Renkotsu. Ginkotsu. If he’d known who Renkotsu really was- If he’d killed Ginkotsu faster-
“Where are you?” he shouted into the nothingness around him. “Come and fight me! Whoever was part of that – Renkotsu! Ginkotsu! Jakotsu! Naraku! Stop hiding and fight me! I’ll kill all of you! Just-”
He broke off with a sharp sob. He couldn’t- He’d find Naraku. He’d kill him, for Miroku and Sango. He’d tear him apart with his bare hands. He didn’t even need- Where was the Tessaiga? He vaguely remembered letting it fall from his hands. He needed it to get to Naraku.
He took off running again.
He ended up back at the temple before he could think about it.
He picked up the sword from where it was still lying on the ground.
His eyes were stinging and his vision blurred, but through it all, he could see the smoking remains of the temple.
He ran for it, and hurled the Wind Scar at the empty shell.
Amber light burst all around him, and a wave of destruction brought everything crashing down.
There was nothing but rubble. Nothing left. He fell to his knees and punched the ground hard enough to split stone and shatter bone. He didn’t care. He did it again, and again. Then he threw back his head and screamed into the night sky.
He didn’t know how long he knelt there, shaking. He didn’t know how long he floated in a sea of grief and agony as the sobs ripped through him. All he knew was there was eventually another heartbeat beside him, and it wasn’t any of the ones he wanted to hear.
“What is the matter with you, Inuyasha?” Sesshomaru asked coldly.
“Go away,” Inuyasha gasped raggedly, bracing himself on the ground as he heaved. “Leave!”
“You have finally succumbed to your own weakness, have you?”
Inuyasha roared as he threw himself at his brother, claws blazing with amber light. Sesshomaru stepped out of the way, but Inuyasha was moving more rapidly than normal. At first, he didn’t understand what had caused the hanyou to act in this irrational way. He wasn’t fully transformed, and Tessaiga was safely secured on his hip. There was no reason for him to be- Ah, but there was the smell of death in the air. Mixed amongst the scents of nameless humans were two he recognized, two who could easily make his brother act like this.
“I see,” he said, catching hold of Inuyasha’s wrist and digging in his claws. “You let them die.”
A wordless shout of rage ripped from Inuyasha’s throat as he tore his wrist from Sesshomaru’s grasp and swung at his head with Tessaiga.
“You can barely protect yourself,” Sesshomaru said pointedly, gesturing at the blood staining Inuyasha’s robes. “Why you thought-”
“Either kill me or leave,” Inuyasha spat. “But if you try to lecture me, I’ll rip you apart.”
Sesshomaru sighed lightly. “You always were too arrogant for your own good.”
He saw the Wind Scar forming along Tessaiga the moment his brother reached for it. The ignorant fool. Sesshomaru drew upon his youki and shot upwards, transforming himself into an orb of light. He heard Inuyasha begin to wail as soon as he realized his prey was gone. Such as weak, childish display. He deserved to succumb to his grief, if that was all he could muster.
Sesshomaru landed beside Rin, who didn’t startle at all at his sudden appearance. Instead she smiled brightly at him and lifted her cupped hands.
“Lord Sesshomaru!” she greeted. “I found some mushrooms!”
“Lord Sesshomaru,” Jaken said, leading over A-Un by the halters. “Where in the world did you go? You just disappeared!”
Sesshomaru grimaced, the echo of the anguished cries that had caught his attention still ringing in his ears. “I had something to attend to.”
“Oh, excellent,” Jaken cheered. “What did you discover?”
“I caught the scent of that boy again.” Not completely a lie. “Naraku must be nearby, if he’s conducting his business here.”
Rin paused at that. “You mean Kohaku, my lord?”
“We will remain in the area until I can discern Naraku’s whereabouts,” Sesshomaru said firmly.
“My lord,” Rin said haltingly, a rare unsure expression on her face. “Do you intend to kill Kohaku?”
Sesshomaru eyed her. “I have no reason to, unless he is in my way.”
She nodded slowly. “He didn’t mean any harm, back when he was guarding me. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sesshomaru was silent for a long moment. “There is no right or wrong in death,” he said eventually. “Those with the power choose who lives and who dies. That is all there is to it.”
Rin looked away and nodded sadly. He would not reveal his weakness to her, but he had already made up his mind not to kill the boy if he could help it. Keeping him alive would create more problems for Naraku than his service could solve. And that’s…all it was, really. His entire motivation was to cause Naraku as much inconvenience as possible until the day that he took that monster’s life. That’s all there was to it.
~*~
She walked silently through the night. She passed through the village, following the direction of the farmers from the day before. The forest path was narrow and twisting, but in her state, she could easily see from the light of just the stars, and the occasional soul that was brought to her. The rumours had been many, but all seemed to point to the mountain before her. Merciless evildoers. Child-killing ronin. Rogue mercinaries who had to be brought to justice.
The gravesite had been split in two, just as the villagers had described. Inside, the churned earth where seven bodies had lain was now bare. The curse of the Shichinintai may yet have been reborn.
She purified the area, as she had promised to do, but she knew that it would accomplish no more than putting the villagers’ minds at ease. The evil had long fled from this place. If her suspicions were true, it was likely for their own self-preservation that they had done so. Mount Hakurei loomed in the far distance.
She pulled the bound hair from her robes. Rasetsu would have to wait a little longer before his soul was given peace. This realm of utter purification may be what she had been searching for, but she could not let the evil of the Shichinintai continue unchecked.
Around her were a few scattered shards of the Jewel, most tarnished and clouded with ill intentions. One, however, was more pure than the rest. That was the one which drew her attention. She started towards Mount Hakurei, even as the souls shifted around her and her shikigami began to vanish one-by-one, their youki overcome by the purifying aura. She knew that it was a sign to turn back, that Mount Hakurei was no meant for the likes of her – but it was the thought of the likes of her that drove her forward. She ordered her shikigami to disperse, and pushed forward.
The village was not terribly close to Mount Hakurei, but it still existed in the mountain’s shadow. Despite the barest hints of dawn in the sky, the village was bustling with life. As she drew closer, she could see a young man sitting in the entryway of his house, gently bandaging the wrist of an older woman. Several children were playing on the ground just outside, while a few more stood around the man and watched in fascination.
“That should do it,” the man said warmly to the woman. “Come back in three days’ time for me to rewrap it.”
“Thank you very much, doctor,” the old woman said, bowing to him before picking up her basket of kindling once more. “And you’re sure…?”
“Please,” the man smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of taking your money.”
She shook her head as she walked off. “You’re too kind, young man!”
The man smiled and ruffled the hair of a young boy sitting next to him, holding a cloth that had been used to clean the wound.
“Take care!” the young boy called after the old woman, and when he turned to help another child empty the water basin, Kikyo could see a baby strapped to his back.
There were far too many children of similar ages to be siblings. Her guess was they were orphans. Though they were smiling, she could see the haunted look in some of their eyes that told of a child who had seen far more than they should have. She turned her gaze back to the young man. He wore a simple blue kosode and hakama, and a worn brown haori which was splattered with pieces of dirt and medicinal herbs. His shoulder-length hair was tied back out of his kind, round face. And a Jewel shard was embedded in his neck.
“Come, Chiyo,” the man said, guiding the young boy inside. “We must prepare for our next appointment.”
A young girl lifted the empty water basin and started off, presumably to refill it, when she caught sight of Kikyo.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise. “You’re a priestess! Are you here to see Doctor Suikotsu?”
Kikyo frowned deeply. A physician, with a revived soul and a Jewel shard sustaining him. She could sense no stolen souls within him as she and Urasue’s other children had. He was of a different kind than her, but they were still both of the other world.
“I would like that very much,” Kikyo said to the girl with a smile.
She nodded and took one step back towards the house, just as the young boy, Chiyo, stepped out again. He saw Kikyo as well and froze.
“Chiyo?” the physician’s voice called from inside. “Is there a patient?”
Kikyo met the man as he walked outside to see what was going on.
“Oh,” he exclaimed softly. “Forgive me – I had not expected for a priestess to grace such a small village as ours.”
“Indeed,” she inclined her head. “I am Kikyo, and I was just passing by. I often find myself healing those in need, though I do not have a physician’s training.”
The man laughed with slight embarrassment. “I’ll admit that I’m not formally trained, either. I simply do what I can. I am called Suikotsu.”
As he spoke, another young boy crept from inside the house and tugged gently on Suikotsu’s pants. The physician bent down to the boy’s level, and nodded seriously as the boy whispered something in his ear.
“We’ll get some food in just a moment,” he promised the boy, who ducked his head shyly and ran off.
“Are they yours?” Kikyo asked, gesturing to the playing children still outside.
“In a sense,” Suikotsu sighed. “They lost their parents to famine and disease. When I came to this village, I couldn’t just leave them to survive on their own. I will take care of them for as long as I can.”
Kikyo smiled. “You came to this village recently, then?”
Something painful passed over Suikotsu’s face before he wiped the expression clean. “Yes. I travelled from place to place for much of my life, though I would like to settle here for a time.”
He remembered, then, what his life had been before. She could sense a turbulent spirit within him, but she could not push just yet.
“I cannot stay for long, but I would like to offer my assistance while I’m here.” She glanced at the pile of children roughhousing together. “You seem to have your hands full.”
“Yes,” he agreed with a smile, watching the children. “I find- Yosaku, don’t put that in your mouth!”
As he ran after the children to disentangle them, Kikyo couldn’t help but wonder. Here, in the shadow of the famed Mount Hakurei, could even the evil of an undead spirit be purified?
~*~
He couldn’t bare the raw sympathy and hurt in Shippo’s eyes, nor the knowing sadness in Myoga’s, but he had to come back. He had to see them again, with his own eyes, to know that this wasn’t some horrific nightmare. And they were still there, lying stiff and cold, their skin an ashy grey and dark circles under their eyes. He dropped to his knees beside them and reached for Miroku with shaking hands. His monk was gone, even though his scent was still achingly present as Inuyasha cradled him to his chest. He held him tightly and let the tears flow.
What was he supposed to do? He’d failed. He’d failed everything and everyone, including the man he loved. He couldn’t begin to beg for their forgiveness – and he didn’t deserve it. It was all his fault. Nothing seemed important anymore. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t let go of Miroku, even as the sun slid across the sky and his limbs began to ache from where he was kneeling. It didn’t matter. The only things that were real were the slide of dark hair through his fingers, the purple robes dusted with ash, and the hollow, aching grief in his chest that threatened to drown him.
He didn’t know how much later it was that he heard Shippo’s startled gasp. He pried his eyes open from where they’d been swollen shut with tears. Myoga was nowhere to be seen. Shippo and Kirara were sitting beside Sango, but both had turned to look at something beyond her. A figure stood still and cold and disapproving as he watched them.
Inuyasha didn’t know why he’d come. He already knew what had happened, and he’d already walked away. What could Sesshomaru possibly want this time? If he’d come to gloat, he had to know that Inuyasha would kill him. But his brother was just watching them with an unreadable expression. He began to walk towards them and Inuyasha snarled as the world went red.
“Control yourself, you fool,” Sesshomaru’s voice drifted through the haze of his grief-stricken rage.
But all he could see was the flash of a sword in front of Sango. In front of Shippo and Kirara, the only ones he had left to protect. He would have killed Sesshomaru then and there, but that would mean letting go of Miroku. Instead he flung them both on top of Sango and the rest of his pack, and he bared his teeth in a challenge.
Sesshomaru scoffed in disgust.
Inuyasha growled, and his fangs caught on his lips.
Sesshomaru lifted his sword and struck through the air. Inuyasha tore his claws into Sesshomaru’s arm and tried to rip it off. Sesshomaru snarled, his eyes flashing red as well, as he twisted his arm free. Then his claws dug into the back of Inuyasha’s neck and slammed his face into the ground. Inuyasha snarled and bucked, his senses flaring as he tried to reach Sesshomaru. He could hear Shippo saying something and Kirara growling, and the three frantic heartbeats of his pack-
Wait.
Three?
He froze without a thought as his eyes fixed on Sango.
Sango, who was breathing.
Alive.
The weight of Sesshomaru’s hand on his neck vanished but he didn’t move, suddenly limp.
He watched unblinkingly as Sesshomaru passed the sword over Miroku as well, and this time, Inuyasha heard the exact moment that his monk’s heart started beating once more.
He didn’t remember moving, he was just suddenly clutching them both. Sango shifted slightly, and Miroku made a sound of pain, and Inuyasha choked on air. His eyes snapped up as he gaped at Sesshomaru, but his brother was already walking away. Shippo had dropped to his knees, and Kirara’s fur was standing on end.
“Inuyasha…”
Miroku’s voice was hoarse and weak and the most beautiful sound Inuyasha had ever heard.
Inuyasha clutched him tighter and cried. He cried as he never had before, to the point that he was struggling to breathe through the swell of tears, and he wouldn’t be able to speak even if he had the words. He felt a hand gently grasping his shoulder, another tangled in his hair, but he couldn’t see through the tears as he fell apart.
He only came back to himself when he felt the sting of teeth on the back of his hand. He stared blearily at Shippo for a long moment, trying to comprehend why the kit had nipped him.
“Inuyasha, they still smell like poison!” Shippo said urgently, tugging at his sleeve.
Inuyasha’s head whipped back to stare at his humans. They were both watching him with small, tight smiles, but their scents were still heavy with pain and weakness.
“What-” he started, but his voice was wrecked and he had to clear his throat. “What do we do?”
Shippo was silent for a long moment. He realized that he was asking way too much of the kid, more than he had already. He needed to pull himself together and start taking care of his pack again.
“Jinenji’s herbs didn’t do enough,” he said, almost to himself as he smoothed the sweat-slick hair from Miroku’s brow.
“Indeed not, sire!” Myoga’s voice sounded from somewhere to his left, and he turned to see the flea bounding towards them. He was the size of a rabbit and swollen with…something. “Shippo, do you have that canteen?”
Shippo wordlessly lifted the bamboo canteen that had been lying beside him, dumped out the water, and held it in front of Myoga. The flea jumped up to its rim and immediately began spewing a dark red-brown liquid into the container.
“Shippo told me about the poison from Mukotsu,” Myoga explained after he’d deflated. “I went to investigate, to see if there was anything I could do. I’m glad to see these two alive. Tenseiga, I take it?”
Inuyasha just stared at him blankly.
“It will be tricky, and it will take some time,” the flea continued. “But I know how to treat them, now. Hold them steady, and Shippo, I’ll tell you when it’s time.”
He jumped onto Miroku’s neck and bit into the delicate skin of his throat. Inuyasha barely kept from transforming again at the sight, everything still unspeakably raw. He watched with fixed concentration as Myoga began draining more and more of Miroku’s blood. Even as the stress in the monk’s scent grew, the smell of pain and sickness diminished. Miroku lay motionless throughout, his pinched gaze holding steady on Inuyasha the entire time. By the time that Myoga had tripled in size once more, he was blinking languidly and was startlingly pale. His heartbeat was rapid and shallow, and his breathing faster than before.
“Myoga?” Inuyasha asked hoarsely.
“I had to get as much of the poison out of his body as possible,” Myoga said in a strained voice, and wobbled over to Sango. “Here we go again. Shippo, you know what to do.”
Shippo scampered over to Miroku and held the canteen towards his lips. Inuyasha’s muddy brain eventually caught on and he propped up the monk’s head in his lap so he could help him drink. Miroku’s eyes went wide at the first sip of Myoga’s concoction, and nausea rolled through him, but he swallowed down half the canteen without protest. As Shippo turned to give the second half to Sango, as per Myoga’s instructions, Inuyasha cradled Miroku’s head to his abdomen and buried his fingers in the monk’s hair.
“How do you feel?” he rasped, blinking away the sting from his eyes.
“A little dizzy,” Miroku croaked, and it looked like he could barely keep his eyes open.
“That’s to be expected,” Myoga said from where he was lying. His face was beaded with sweat and he looked ill. “I took a lot out of you, and this poison is horrible, even for me. You’ll both need quite some time to recover.”
Miroku turned his head so he could nod slightly at the flea. “Thank you, Myoga.”
“We owe you,” Sango added, her voice just as frail as Miroku’s.
“But they’ll live?” Inuyasha asked brokenly. “They’ll be okay?”
Myoga met his gaze steadily and smiled softly. “They will.”
Inuyasha pressed his face into Miroku’s hair and clutched desperately at his partner. Alive. Well. Weak, but recovering. He couldn’t ask for anything more in the world.
Slowly, his crushing relief was replaced by the need to protect and care for. Both Miroku and Sango had lost too much blood. They needed to get somewhere safe. Just because the Shichinintai hadn’t shown their faces yet didn’t mean that they weren’t nearby. He needed to make sure that nothing threatened his pack again. He glanced over at Kirara, who had begun to heal overnight, but not enough.
“Come on,” he whispered to Miroku. “Do you think you can hold on to my back?”
Miroku nodded faintly, but his hands were cold and shaking as he clung to Inuyasha’s shoulder. Shippo and Kirara both had to help Sango climb onto his back beside Miroku, and he could tell by her rapid breaths that she was dizzy with bloodloss. He started off at a quick but careful pace, making sure that Shippo was able to keep up with Kirara in his arms. Myoga was on his shoulder again, but quiet for now.
He headed deep into the forest, and just kept going until he found another river, much smaller than the last, and a cave not too far away. It was larger than he would have liked, the mouth too open, but the floor was relatively flat and besides, Miroku and Sango needed to stop being moved. They were both shaking and swallowing down their nausea. He lay them gently down on the floor, frowning at the way they were both shivering.
“I’ll go get some firewood,” Shippo said, startling Inuyasha. The kit had been abnormally quiet all day.
Inuyasha opened his mouth to object, but the humans needed to get warm, and he didn’t think it was possible for him to leave them right now. Kirara pushed to her feet and transformed. The deep wounds were still visible down her flank and left foreleg, and she couldn’t put any weight on the limb. She met Inuyasha’s eyes and nodded steadily. She began limping after Shippo and, as soon as she was outside the cave, took to the air. Inuyasha watched them go and swallowed down his creeping fear.
Instead he lay down beside Miroku, and maneuvered both him and Sango so that their upper bodies rested on his chest and abdomen. Miroku had fallen asleep, but Sango blinked at him slowly.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, you know,” she smiled tightly. “Just perfect.”
He snorted gently. “I expect you’ll want to laze about forever, now.”
“Yeah,” she yawned, and nestled her head closer to Miroku’s. “That sounds nice.”
He curled his arms around them and just held them for a while longer. One ear followed Shippo and Kirara outside, while the other simply rested on the heartbeats around him. He realized that the humans weren’t the only ones shaking, but he swallowed down the feeling. They needed him to be strong – they all did. He couldn’t let himself fall apart again. That kind of weakness would only bring more trouble.
When Shippo brought back a small armful of branches, Kirara transformed down while standing over them so that her youki sparked the fire to life. Inuyasha nodded, and reached for Sango’s shoulder to help move her closer to the warmth, but immediately stopped when he saw the look on all of their faces. They were all staring at the flames with strangled expressions, ranging from Miroku and Sango’s closed horror to Shippo’s open fear. Inuyasha stamped out the growing fire with his foot and dragged Miroku and Sango to the back of the cave.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling both of them back onto his lap. “I should have realized.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sango said immediately.
“I don’t think we knew, either,” Miroku added. “I will just take some time.”
Inuyasha swallowed down his protests. He glanced at Shippo, and knew that the kit was following his own thoughts. The humans needed to eat to build up their strength.
“Kirara and I can go fishing,” Shippo offered quietly. “But…”
They could eat the fish raw. The humans, in their weakened state, probably shouldn’t. They could build another fire, further away, but he didn’t want to put either of them in that position, and he didn’t want them far away, either.
“I think…” Miroku said quietly, rummaging around in his robes.
Inuyasha caught on and helped him find the cloth-wrapped pieces of dried fish and yams. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would do for now. He gave a piece to both Miroku and Sango, but they just stared blankly at it. They could barely keep their heads up. Eating the tough pieces would be next to impossible.
“Shippo,” he said. “Can you fill up the canteen at the river? We’ll soak the food so it’s easier to eat.”
Shippo nodded enthusiastically and ran off, Kirara trailing behind. While they waited, Inuyasha broke a piece of fish into tiny pieces so the humans could swallow them whole. He continued on after Shippo had returned with the canteen, and run off again to help Kirara with the fishing. Myoga hopped off as well, promising to come back with more of his potion for them to drink. Both Miroku and Sango looked vaguely ill at the thought, but didn’t comment.
Inuyasha watched Sango stare blearily at another piece of mushy fish that he passed her, and smiled gently as her head rested more firmly on him. Miroku was still awake, and followed his movements as he gradually shirked his suikan off his shoulders and maneuvered Sango onto the floor to lie on it. Miroku gracelessly slid to the side to lean against the cave wall so that Inuyasha could strip off his hadagi for her to use as a pillow. He then scooped Miroku back into his arms and held him tightly.
Miroku pressed a kiss against his chest, and slowly began stroking his hand up and down Inuyasha’s side. At first Inuyasha didn’t realize what he was doing, until he felt the sting of tears in his eyes again. He couldn’t move his hands from where they grasped at Miroku, even long enough to wipe away the wetness suddenly on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Miroku whispered, trailing his fingers through Inuyasha’s hair. “I can’t imagine how much this hurt you.”
Inuyasha choked down a sob, but a few more tears still slipped down his cheeks. “I…I couldn’t bear it. Losing you- I-” He shook his head. “Never again.”
Miroku watched him with sorrow in his eyes. “You had to watch us die.”
Inuyasha met his gaze in horror. “You knew? I thought…”
Miroku smiled sadly. “I heard what Myoga said about Tenseiga. And,” he frowned. “I think I knew anyway. I remember thinking that I was going to die.”
Inuyasha bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. “I’m so sorry, Miroku-”
“Don’t be,” Miroku said firmly, grasping at his hand. “This wasn’t your fault, and Sango and I are alright, now. I’m just so sorry that you had to see it.”
Inuyasha shook his head rapidly. “It’s not- It could happen again. The Shichinintai, or Naraku, or some other demon- They could take you away from me and I wouldn’t be able to- And I can’t-”
“Hey,” Miroku said, moving so that he was kneeling beside Inuyasha, and framed his face with his hands. “Breathe, love.”
“I can’t-“ he said raggedly. He was gasping for breath, as though he’d been fighting to the point of exhaustion. “I have to-“
"Look at me," Miroku instructed, waiting for Inuyasha to comply before continuing. "Focus on me. Focus on my heartbeat, and copy my breathing."
Inuyasha choked on another desperate gasp before he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all his attention on the steady heartbeat before him. Miroku's hands slid down his arms to rest on his clenched fists. Inuyasha tangled their fingers together and held on for dear life. He felt as though there was a boulder sitting on his chest, crushing him and making it impossible to get enough air, but he also felt like he was falling. He hissed a shallow breath through his teeth and blew it out in time with Miroku's steady breathing. And again. And again. One of Miroku's hands stayed put but the other slid up his arm again, never breaking contact until it came to rest wrapped around his shoulders. Slowly, the horrible pressure was unwinding and he felt like he was clawing his way back to himself.
"What-?" he asked, still short of breath but not fighting any longer.
"Your body started to fight against everything that was in your mind. It happens sometimes when everything just becomes too much."
Inuyasha eyed him, the spark of concern helping to push aside the last of the panic. "You know about this?"
"I had this before," Miroku said calmly, but the slightest edge to his voice revealed that it wasn't something he particularly wanted to talk about.
Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut. We wanted to apologize, to comfort Miroku, to fix this, but he knew he couldn’t. Instead he pulled Miroku into his arms and curled around him. Neither of them moved for a long time. Even when Shippo and Kirara returned, offering Inuyasha a fish which he declined with a shake of his head. Even as the two demons picked their way over to him and curled up between him and Sango. And as Miroku eventually drifted off to sleep, and the others soon followed, Inuyasha held on all the tighter and kept watch.
~*~
She learned from the children that Suikotsu hadn’t been in the village for more than a few days, but it was clear to her that they already viewed him as a sort of father. There were about a dozen of them, ranging from an infant only six months old, to Chiyo, the oldest at ten years old. All of them lived in the physician’s house together, which had stood empty for almost a year before Suikotsu’s arrival. Chiyo followed Suikotsu around the village, acting as his assistant when tending his patients. Kikyo stoked the fire to life and set about cooking the rice mixture for the children.
It was almost evening by the time Suikotsu returned, carrying a sleeping Chiyo in his arms. He smiled and nodded gratefully at Kikyo, and set the boy down next to the other sleeping children.
“I see you have a busy life here,” she said softly.
“I do what I can,” he shrugged. “Someone has to.”
She handed him a bowl of rice, and he looked down at it for a moment. “Um, thank you, but I’m not hungry.”
She nodded. He probably expected her to push, but then, he didn’t know that she was keenly aware of the constant hollowness of the un-life. It was better to save what little food there was for the children.
“Forgive me for asking,” he started after a moment. “But why have you come? You seem interested in this village.”
“Not necessarily the village,” she shrugged. She saw a flash of fear in his eyes. “I have made it my purpose to heal lost souls. As you said, someone has to.”
He looked away, and he could see his desperate attempts to hide what she already knew. “Well, the children here certainly could use your help. There is only so much I can do on my own.” He smiled bitterly. “Besides, I-”
“Help!” a shout sounded from outside. “Doctor, we need you!”
Suikotsu was on his feet and rushing outside with unnatural speed. Some of the children woke with a start, frightened by the noise, but Kikyo gestured for them to stay put and followed the physician outside.
A man was being supported by two others, blood gushing from a gash in his thigh.
“What happened?” Suikotsu’s voice was tight.
“He fell, and his kama struck his leg,” one of the men said, lowering his companion to the ground.
The man gasped in pain, and braced his hands against the wound. “It hurts…”
Kikyo watched Suikotsu curiously as he stared, wide-eyed at the wound. After a moment he looked away, and squeezed his eyes shut. His hands were shaking.
“Doctor Suikotsu,” she said quietly. “Is there anything I can do to assist?”
He looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. “Oh, yes… If you don’t mind, Kikyo-sama. That would be most kind.”
She didn’t mention how pale he looked. Chiyo had woken and was standing at the door, a bundle of bandages in his hands.
“It is fairly deep. Chiyo,” Suikotsu instructed, his voice calm and firm. “Get the bucket of water and the saké. I will need to stitch the wound.”
Chiyo nodded, passed the bandages to Kikyo, and ran off. Suikotsu pulled a needle and some thread from his robes, and paused.
“Here,” Kikyo said, taking a strip of the cloth bandages and pressed it to the wound. “Do not worry,” she said to the injured man. “As soon as we cleanse the wound, we will stitch and bind it.”
Suikotsu nodded at the words, coming back to himself slightly. He took the bucket of water from Chiyo and dipped a cloth in it, cleaning out the soil that had been on the kama when it struck. He then nodded at Chiyo, and the boy poured the small jug of saké liberally over the wound. The man hissed and kicked out in pain, but one of his companions held his legs down as the other helped to keep him sitting upright. Suikotsu hesitated once more.
“Doctor,” Kikyo said softly. “Do you have any herbs for a poultice to stave off infection? I have a fair amount of experience in stitching wounds if you must go gather them.”
He nodded at her, and she could see the gratitude in his eyes. “Yes, I should gather the medicine. My thanks.”
She didn’t mention how quickly he rushed off. She quickly stitched the wound and cleaned away the remnants of blood. Suikotsu returned after a moment with a bowl full of crushed herbs. He smeared the poultice over the stitched area and they bound the leg together. Suikotsu then sat back on his heels and stared at the few specks of blood on his sleeves.
“I…” he trailed off, and swallowed thickly. “I must go.”
Chiyo looked sad but unconcerned as the man fled away from the village. Kikyo turned back to their patient and instructed him on how to keep the wound clean. She accepted the thanks from him and his companions. She helped Chiyo fetch more water and had him show her where the medicinal herbs were kept. Then she left the children to return to their sleep, and walked away from the house, following the pull of the Jewel shard.
She found Suikotsu kneeling in front of a river, scrubbing at his hands vigorously.
“Doctor Suikotsu,” Kikyo called, just loud enough for him to hear. “The men have gone back home.”
He sighed raggedly and braced himself against the river’s bank. “How foolish I must have looked.”
“It’s alright,” she said, coming to kneel beside him.
“A physician, who dislikes blood?” He snorted. “It’s pathetic.”
She regarded him curiously. “Was it always so.”
His face paled and his lips pressed tightly together. “I…have more experience with it than I would like. When I was back east, where I was born, there was far too much of it. That is why I decided to settle here. It’s small and poor, but it’s peaceful, and untouched by war.”
The words grew harsher as he spoke, and Kikyo’s frown deepened.
“You have seen much of war, then?”
He glanced at her, and his eyes were hard. “That is none of your concern.”
“I meant no offense,” she soothed calmly. “I merely wish to help.”
He stood abruptly and stared down at her. “I am not one of your lost souls, priestess. You would do well to remember that.”
She didn’t call after him as he stalked away.
~*~
The scents stabbed into his mind, urging him forward even as his pack fell far behind. Someone was messing with him, he knew it! Acrid smoke burned from dozens of patches around the forest, making it almost impossible to follow the trail of Inuyasha’s pack, especially as different members peeled off and doubled back. But finally, finally he’d found a fresh scent, which led to a set of broken stone steps leading to the burnt shell of a human temple. The whole place smelled like death. Inuyasha’s scent was the only one he could catch with any clarity, sharp with grief and sorrow and pain. Kouga frowned and stepped deeper into the rubble.
It…didn’t smell right. There were bodies buried in the ground, mingling with the scent of the rest of Inuyasha’s pack. It was impossible to pick out the specifics of any other scent, though the pain and sickness was obvious. Kouga ignored the way his heart hammered in his throat and took off after Inuyasha’s scent. The hanyou would know where the rest of his pack was, at least.
Please, be safe.
The smell of death followed him to a clearing in the forest. The twisting mix of emotions scorched into the ground made his head spin. But they weren’t there, so he took off again. He could distantly hear the rest of his pack calling after him, but he ignored them.
He found the cave easily, and that worried him. Miroku usually had those pieces of paper that blocked their scent if they were trying to hide. He fixed his concentration on the sound of heartbeats and ran.
An angry half-naked blur shot towards him and tackled him to the ground. Inuyasha’s eyes were red and he exposed his fangs as he snarled. He lunged at Kouga with his claws once more, and Kouga grabbed onto his wrists with both hands. He flipped them so that he was leaning over the hanyou, and pinned him to the ground with a knee on his chest.
“Easy!” he snapped. “I’m not your enemy, you idiot!”
Inuyasha snarled but the red faded from his eyes. “Get off me, you asshole.”
Kouga obediently let go of his wrists but didn’t let him up. “What the hell has been going on? Why does Miroku’s scent smell like that?”
Inuyasha winced and his ears flattened to his head. Kouga’s heart slammed downwards- But Miroku couldn’t be dead. There was no way that any self-respecting pack leader would be this calm after the death of his packmates.
“What happened?” Kouga growled, low and dangerous.
Inuyasha stared hard at the ground, shoulders hunched in what looked alarmingly like submission.
Kouga’s gaze snapped up as Miroku appeared at the cave entrance. He was bracing himself against the cave wall, bone-pale and reeking of exhaustion. Kouga abandoned the puppy at once and reached Miroku in a few short strides.
“Thank goodness, you’re alright,” Kouga breathed, taking hold of Miroku’s hand and holding on tight. He braced the monk’s shoulder with his other hand, and felt the shudders running through him.
“Kouga,” came Inuyasha’s warning growl, and he could hear the youki grating in that voice. But he didn’t care.
“You bastard, what have you done to him?” he snapped at Inuyasha. “He’s freezing and pale! You said that you wouldn’t let him get hurt! He looks close to death, and-”
“Kouga!”
Miroku’s angry snap would have made him shut up at the best of times, but it wasn’t what made his mouth slam shut. Inuyasha was still crouched on the ground, still hunched like he was waiting for a blow, and his eyes were shining with tears.
“What…?” Kouga breathed, horror crawling over him.
“You will watch what you say,” Miroku said in a dangerously quiet voice. “We welcome your help, if you want to give it, but you will not insult him again.”
Kouga stared at him in open shock. Eventually he shook himself, and gave Miroku’s hand one final squeeze before releasing him.
“Whatever you need,” he promised in a low voice. “The rest of my pack’s on their way. We’ll do whatever we can until you’re better.”
He stepped back, and bit his tongue as Inuyasha brushed silently past him to help Miroku back into the cave. Kouga could see Sango and the two demons inside, all watching him carefully. He sighed and ran a hand down his face.
“What do you need?” he asked, louder. “Food? Water? Medicine? The humans need fire to keep warm, right?”
Something flashed across all of their faces at once, and Inuyasha shook his head roughly. “Not fire,” he said, a bite still in his words. “But food. Blood, if you can get it. They’ve lost too much of it on their own. A boar, or a deer.”
Kouga nodded. “We can do that. What about the meat?”
“It needs to be cooked.”
Kouga’s eyes darted over all of them, and he didn’t miss the smell of smoke that still lingered on their clothes. “We’ll build a fire downwind. I don’t want them breathing in any more smoke.”
Panic flared in Inuyasha’s scent, but Kouga didn’t say anything more. As his pack arrived, he ordered Haiiro to lead the hunt, and had the rest settle down outside the cave. He wouldn’t intrude on Inuyasha’s pack any more than he had to, but nothing would be able to get in without facing his wolves.
Except, of course, for the rotund flea bouncing towards them. He slowed to a stop when he saw them, a sharp intelligence in his eyes. “And you are…?” he prompted.
“Friends of the pack,” Kouga answered. “And you?”
“Bringing medicine,” the flea answered somewhat haughtily.
“Come in, Myoga,” Inuyasha called just loud enough for demon ears.
The flea hopped past the wolves, ignoring the few that growled at him, and vanished into the cave.
“You have more of that stuff?” Inuyasha asked, grabbing the empty canteen. He’d been forcing Miroku and Sango to drink as much water as they could while they waited for his return.
“Enough for now, but they’ll need more,” Myoga said after he’d spat the liquid into the canteen.
“What exactly is in that?” Kouga asked, hovering at the cave entrance. “It smells vile.”
Myoga glanced at Inuyasha, waiting for his nod to answer. “It is a concoction of my own design, meant to help humans who have lost a significant amount of blood. I made it for Lord Inuyasha’s mother shortly after he was born.”
Inuyasha paled. He hadn’t known that. Kouga was staring at him, recognition dawning on his face. Yeah, yeah. It had been the same with the rest of his pack – they didn’t make the connection right away, even after meeting Sesshomaru.
“You’re a lord?” Kouga asked in disbelief. “How?”
“None of your fucking business,” Inuyasha snapped. He felt cold fingers brush over his hand, and he grasped Miroku’s offered comfort without turning to look.
“In any case,” Myoga said, hopping back outside. “If you would like to help me gather the ingredients, all the better.”
It didn’t take long for Kouga to organize his wolves. Even as some left to gather the items that Myoga had described, others returned dragging a wild boar. Miroku and Sango had reluctantly choked down the latest round of Myoga-soup, and looked less than thrilled at the prospect of drinking pure blood.
“Why does it feel like we’re being punished?” Miroku asked Sango quietly as Inuyasha helped him lift the canteen to his lips. His body was still frail, and after his short walk outside, his arms didn’t want to cooperate.
“I think that’s just how it is these days,” Sango said, running her tongue over her teeth to get rid of the metallic aftertaste.
Kouga was at the cave mouth again, but he waited to speak until Inuyasha had stepped away from his humans. “We’re going to make our den here for at least a day. We’ll keep watch, so there’s no need to worry.”
Miroku and Sango nodded in appreciation. Inuyasha, though, caught the unspoken implications. He hadn’t forgotten which night it was, even if it Miroku and Sango had lost track of the days, and understandably so. He was just surprised that Kouga had remembered. He almost wanted to thank the wolf.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Inuyasha asked instead.
“I was chasing Naraku, same as always, and I came across this weird guy with a weird sword,” Kouga shrugged. “He seemed to know you, and he said that Miroku and Sango were in danger.”
Inuyasha exchanged a look with said humans. “Jakotsu?”
“It makes sense,” Miroku said tiredly. “We didn’t see him at the temple, and he would have been in the right area.”
“There’s a lot to talk about,” Sango said, but she was barely keeping her eyes open. “There were seven of them, but two are dead so far.”
“Three,” Inuyasha cut in quietly. “I’m pretty sure I killed Ginkotsu.”
“Who?” Kouga asked, but Inuyasha brushed off the question with a wave of his hand.
“We appreciate you coming to check in on us,” Miroku said gently. “And your protection.”
Kouga nodded. “Nothing will hurt you while I’m here.” But then he paused, and glanced at the hurt that flashed across Inuyasha’s expression. “I’m sorry.”
He left them alone after that. Shippo followed Myoga outside to help gather the ingredients, and Kirara slept on Sango’s lap. Miroku drew Inuyasha down to sit next to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Inuyasha drew his knees to his chest and stared at the floor as the last of the sunlight disappeared from the cave, and his hair turned black where it hung into his eyes. He sagged against Miroku, obviously exhausted.
“Do you think you can sleep?” Miroku asked quietly, but Inuyasha immediately shook his head and pressed closer to the monk. “That’s alright,” Miroku reassured him. “Just rest, for now.”
They stayed like that for a long time, with Miroku occasionally dozing against Inuyasha’s shoulder as the hanyou ran his fingers through his unbound hair. They could both hear the quiet conversations passing between the wolf demons outside, and Shippo’s occasional soft laugh. He’d chosen to stay outside with the wolves that night, and it was a sign of how much they’d all grown to trust each other.
Miroku squeezed Inuyasha’s arm to be let up, and smiled as his partner blinked blearily at him. “I’m going to grab some meat, because I know you haven’t eaten,” Miroku said with a warm smile. “And I need to pee, because you’ve been shoving me full of liquids all day.”
Inuyasha chuckled quietly, but Miroku could still see the apprehension in his large, brown eyes. He knew that Inuyasha wouldn’t want to be seen outside, not that night, but neither of them wanted to be separated.
“I’ll be back in just a moment,” he promised. He shifted so that his back blocked the view from the mouth of the cave, and pressed a kiss to Inuyasha’s lips.
He felt Inuyasha’s gaze following him as he walked outside. He was exhausted, it was true, but the cave floor was hard and it was nice to stretch his stiff limbs. And besides, he had something he needed to know.
“Myoga,” he called into the jumble of bodies sleeping by the fire across the river. He waited a moment, and soon the flea jumped onto his shoulder.
“Are you sure you should be up and about?” Myoga asked skeptically.
“Not entirely,” Miroku grinned. “But I had a question.”
“Oh?”
“Not necessarily anything you might be thinking,” he said, walking away from the campsite in the hopes that they wouldn’t be overheard. “What can you tell me about mates?”
“Oh, they are something special,” Myoga said at once. “A mate bond is something that can be broken only by death. You share your soul with your mate, so that they may be with you always. You essentially become extensions of each other.”
Miroku nodded slowly. “Do you have a mate, Myoga?”
The flea sighed dreamily. “I do, indeed. I see her rarely these days, with all that I do for Lord Inuyasha, but I carry her with me wherever I go. I always worry that one day, I may not return.”
Miroku smiled even as the words tugged at his heart. “We appreciate all that you do for us, truly. Sango and I might not be alive if it weren’t for you.”
He’d never seen a flea blush before, but Myoga simply mumbled thanks and hopped off, back to the fire. Miroku stepped to the other side of a few trees, knowing that even if his partner was in his mortal form, there were likely still a good dozen ears listening to him pee. He shoved down the embarrassment, especially as his head swam and he had to lean against the trunk of a tree for support. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest, and he wasn’t surprised to hear an awkward shuffle from behind him.
“The puppy will rip out my throat if you die now,” Kouga said with a wry grin, but his words were gentle and quiet.
“If you wouldn’t mind helping me over to the fire?” Miroku asked. “I need to make sure he eats.”
Kouga immediately offered his arm and the two of them turned back to where the others lay, but Miroku paused.
“Kouga?”
“Mm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Kouga looked him over, and he frowned suspiciously. “Sure…”
“Did you really fall in love with me when you first met me?”
Kouga froze in shock, and he seemed to need a moment for his mind to go over the words several times. Eventually, though, he sighed and sagged as though something had drained from within him. “No,” he admitted in a whisper. “I saw that you were a strong fighter and had a good head on your shoulders, and you could help find the Jewel shards, and I figured that you were just what we needed to keep the pack safe. Everything would just be easier if I claimed you as my mate.”
Miroku nodded thoughtfully, and Kouga’s cheeks were burning red.
“Not that I don’t like you, or anything!” he rushed to clarify. “I still think you’d make a great addition to the pack, and I like having you around and I want to protect you. It just…” He shrugged. “This can’t be all that love is, ya know?”
“So why insist on it?” Miroku asked quietly. “Why try to force it?”
“My top priority has always been my pack,” Kouga said slowly. “It’s my duty to keep them safe, to do everything I can for them. You were a way that I could do that.” He was silent for a long moment, and then he looked up to meet Miroku’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t me,” Miroku smiled. “I mean, you should be apologizing for the abduction fiasco, as that’s generally not considered polite in human circles, but I can understand wanting to be my mate.” He winked. “I’m pretty amazing, after all.”
Kouga let out a startled laugh and readjusted his arm around Miroku’s shoulders. “Yeah, don’t flatter yourself monk.”
“What, because that’s your job?”
“Damn right!” Kouga grinned before his face softened again. “But I know it’s bad for pack relations, so I’ll back off. I know it bothers the puppy, too. And I get that you’re his pack first and foremost, but you know that you’re my pack too, right? Mate or not, that’s not gonna change.”
Miroku breathed out some of his lingering tension. “Thanks, Kouga. We all need to look out for each other with everything going on.”
Kouga helped him over to where the boar was roasting over the fire, and handed him a few large slabs of meat that the others had carved from its side.
“Tell Inuyasha we’ve got things covered out here!” Ginta called over to him from where he sat cuddled next to Hakkaku. “You just focus on getting better.”
Miroku blushed and ducked his head in slight embarrassment. “Thank you, all of you.”
He disappeared into the cave, and Kouga watched him go. The monk’s words sounded over and over again in his mind, and it had him thinking.
“It’s weird,” he said, sitting down next to Kuro and Aka. “It almost seems like there’s something between Miroku and the puppy.”
He couldn’t figure out why his pack was staring at him like that.
Miroku handed Inuyasha his chunk of meat with a no-nonsense expression, and his partner obediently began gnawing at it. Sango accepted her piece drowsily, and held out Kirara’s for her as well. Inuyasha was still quiet, and staring absently at the cave wall as he chewed and swallowed. Miroku and Sango shared a worried glance.
“I need to stretch a bit,” Sango said, pushing to her feet. “And make sure Shippo doesn’t annoy the wolves into eating him.”
A squeak and a series of chuckles from outside told them that all the demons had absolutely heard that comment. They shared a smile. Miroku longed to lie down, his body aching and frail, but he still followed Sango to the cave entrance.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he said quietly, too quietly for mortal ears to catch from across the cave. “But I need you to stay outside for a little while, if that’s alright.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re going to do something lecherous, aren’t you?”
Miroku nodded solemnly. “That’s the plan, yes.”
She pulled him into a quick embrace. “Just make sure he’s alright,” she whispered in his ear.
“I will.”
Inuyasha startled when Miroku sat back down at his side, jostled from his thoughts, and looked around for where the rest of his pack had gone.
“They’re enjoying the fire for a while,” Miroku reassured him quickly. “They’re safe.”
Inuyasha nodded, and his eyes darted over Miroku for the hundredth time that day. “And you?”
“I’m alright,” Miroku promised. “Tired, sore, and still a little dizzy, but all that will pass soon enough.” He took Inuyasha’s hand in his and tangled their fingers together. “We’re alright, Yash.”
Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, but his face was still lined with tension.
“I want you to lie down for me, alright?” Miroku said, running his fingers through Inuyasha’s dark hair. “You don’t need to sleep, but I need you to relax.”
Inuyasha followed the instructions, looking utterly unconvinced. Miroku lay down beside him and pressed their bodies flush to each other. He cupped Inuyasha’s hand with his cheek so that their eyes met, and they simply breathed each other in for a moment. Then Miroku leaned forward, his hand sliding around the back of Inuyasha’s neck, and drew him into a long, lingering kiss. Inuyasha melted against him, the iron-hard clench of his muscles gradually began to ease away. Miroku pressed down more firmly, leaning over his partner more as he did so, and poured all of his love into their kiss. Inuyasha’s hands ran along his side, his hair, his jaw. Gradually, as he began to understand, he stopped fighting. He accepted Miroku’s weight on his chest and the unvoiced command to let go. He closed his eyes and let the rest of the world disappear until there was nothing but the beating of a heart and the taste of Miroku on his lips.