A torn battlefield. A rusted sword.

A silent curse.

Blood spills out over the filthy ground.

A cruel black beak dips down to taste it.

Hate chokes her heart, but her power is gone.

She cries as he drags her away.

…

The well is shut.

She breaks at the bottom, and he pieces her back together again.

…

In the land of the dead, she learned another truth–

Not even the gods can save her.

…

Her first lover, her only living friend.

Claws open far above the hungry waves.

And she is alone in the world again.

…

Ivory hands reach for her in the night. Yellow eyes loom above her.

There is too much pleasure in the pain, not enough pain in the pleasure.

Her back arches beneath him as she betrays herself again.

And again.

And again.

…

Above the crimson surface floats a tiny twisted shape.

The last scion of her mortality, purged away.

She crumbles in upon herself.

…

With him she wanders the land, unknowing and unthinking.

She is his doll now, his perfect mindless creature.

Why, then, does he seem so discontent?

…

Black wings. Black light.

What is left of her they spirit away, into oblivion.

…

And now she can think again, though she is more thoughtless than she has ever been.

She does not dream.

There is nothing to dream of.

There is only him.

…

The stillness is broken by the pierce of an arrow.

For the first time that she can remember, she finds that she can forget.

Sunlit sand and golden eyes.

Love blooms within her, and it is everything.

…

There is a pool in the heart of the moon.

At the bottom lies a woman she has never met.

Yet she knows her at once.

Her silver hair is matted crimson. Beneath her shuttered lids, yellow eyes sleep, ever still.

“Why?” she asks him, turning.

He does not deign to say.

…

And when the moonlight ghosts along the severed limbs and blood-soaked earth, she realizes she was dreaming after all.

…

The Jewel eludes her yet again.

Through the watery darkness it glows, just beyond her grasp.

…

“You will always belong to me,” he tells her.

As time wears on, she is starting to believe him.

…

Black talons curve around the bar of a swingset.

A dark figure awaits.

But not for her.

…

And when, at last, she holds the Key in her hand–

She renders it to dust.

…

Two men she loves—

Different, yet the same.

Golden eyes touch hers across the chasm that divides them, time after time.

“Perhaps in another life,” he whispers.

She reaches toward him in vain.

…

“I’d like to go home now.”

His features, flecked with blood, relax. He approaches her, extends a sharp-tipped hand.

She stands to take it as her knees give way, and she is falling toward him, against him.

He sweeps her up.

In his arms, she is weightless.

…

Dark lashes flutter slowly apart.

Her heart is aching.

Above her, tree branches sway in the summer breeze. A chill washes over her clammy skin.

Nestled in a thicket of leaves, a blackbird peers down at her with one beady eye.

Her breathing stills.

“Oi, Kagome!”

She pushes herself up onto her elbows.

Inuyasha stands before her, Tessaiga slung over his shoulder. She can see that he has been sparring.

“Stop lazing around,” he scolds her, though there is no real bite behind the words. “We need to get going before the sun sets.”

She nods, rising to her feet.

A short way down the grassy knoll, she sees her friends, her allies, and him. His chest is bare like his brother’s, his naked sword gleaming dully in the blazing sun.

As he sheathes Bakusaiga, their gazes meet.

She swallows.

“Hey,” Inuyasha says, his gruff voice softening in concern. He places a protective hand to the small of her back. “You okay?”

She turns toward him, smiling at the warmth of his touch.

“Yeah,” she replies, leaning into his side. “I just had a nightmare, that was all.”

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi