Meanwhile…

She would be the death of him, that accursed girl.

Sesshoumaru leapt up, whirling as he released another brilliant wave of kenatsu at Mouryoumaru. Tentacles still smoking from the last attack, the golem deflected the wave with his crystalline right limb, the force of Tessaiga’s strike driving him into the distance nonetheless. Lightly, Sesshoumaru landed on a jagged perch of rock, his reddened eyes narrowing as he stoked even more of his power into the rippling blade.

Even now, he could feel the shadow of Kagome’s kiss upon him. Bitterly, he labored beneath it, Tessaiga blazing so strongly in his hand that he was forced to keep the sword at a distance. As the battle with Mouryoumaru raged on, it was not the golem nor his master that Sesshoumaru warred against.

It was the red tide of his own lust that threatened to consume him, that clashed so fiercely against his controlled sense of self. Unhinged, he blasted off another chunk of Mouryoumaru’s armor without conscious thought or care. The creature reeled with a resounding roar, yet it was nothing compared to the din in Sesshoumaru’s own blood–a howling need that bellowed at him to abandon the fight, abandon the sword, abandon his honor and go to her.

Not as the Inu no Taishou had gone to Izayoi.

He needed to make her understand. He needed to prove–

I am not my father, Sesshoumaru roared back at her—at himself—as the sky darkened above him, his raw, unfettered desperation burning through Tessaiga and scorching him in turn.

He felt mad. Perhaps he was. A gravelly laugh escaped him as a barrage of glassy shards shattered what remained of his armor to pieces. Taking to the air again, he charged straight toward Mouryoumaru, Tessaiga wreathed in lashing golden flames. The golem’s dark eyes widened as Sesshoumaru brought the blade down upon him in a brutish, savage blow.

Mouryoumaru’s adamant arm exploded upon impact, splinters of crystal shearing through Sesshoumaru’s sleeves and skin. Not even pausing at the miasma’s sear, the daiyoukai whipped the enflamed sword back once more—obliterating his enemy in a fiery arc of pure power that ripped Mouryoumaru apart at the crack in his chest.

The infant lurking within had long since recalled its barrier to protect itself. In the wake of the golem’s destruction, Naraku’s incarnation glared up at him, housed in its orb of shimmering crimson still. Tessaiga flared red in answer.

Wrenching up the fang with both blackened hands, Sesshoumaru seethed as a sudden gust of wind forced him back. “Kagura…”

The wind sorceress frowned deeply as she gathered Naraku’s incarnation into her arms. With the infant’s stone of concealment, Sesshoumaru had been unable to detect her approaching youki.

He should have been watching, but his bestial recklessness had left him more than blind. Kagura could have struck him down. She should have struck him down in his distraction. The fact that she had not was of no consolation to him.

He was afflicted and unfit. Unworthy.

Tessaiga wavered in his hold. It was in this crippling moment of self-doubt, of self-conflict, that he stared into Naraku’s heart. Its dark resentment mirrored his own. Thin venemous claws sank through his chest. He could see Kagome, torn and abused, her eyes glazed and dim as she looked endlessly toward him, the black pool of blood beneath her spreading and spreading, filling his mouth, his lungs—

Abruptly, the image vanished, the infant cursing as Kagura’s fan shaded its eyes, putting it at once to sleep. With one last inscrutable glance, the wind sorceress fled, but Sesshoumaru scarcely noticed—let alone moved to pursue her. Undivided and resolute, his attention was riveted on the other side of the mountain, on the dark cloud of youki descending upon it—and on the fading light of Kagome’s presence.

His vision cleared as he circled the summit, Tessaiga radiant and poised in his hand. He thought only of her as he drew to a halt before the parting storm of a thousand demons, the technique his father had used to fell a hundred destroying them all, as Sesshoumaru unleashed the Wind Scar at last.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi