Kagome raised herself up and turned toward him. The sight of Sesshoumaru standing there against the purpling skies was almost blinding to her misted eyes. She blinked up at him and felt a fresh wave of tears course down her cheeks.

“This is all my fault,” she said tremulously.

Sesshoumaru’s golden gaze trailed over the fresh-hewn stone. “How is it your fault?”

“Miroku saw us together. He knew, Sesshoumaru. He knew. The shock of it was too much for him. His heart was weak and it killed him.” Her voice broke on a welling sob. “I killed him.”

“You can’t know that for certain. If his heart was as weak as you say, it could have been anything. I’ve seen mortals die from the most trivial of things.” His mouth curved in a cold slice of smile. “From fright, even.”

Kagome’s reiki flared in hurt and indignation. “Don’t be glib, Sesshoumaru. Of course I know what killed him. It’s too coincidental to be anything otherwise.”

Sesshoumaru shrugged, studying the stone again. “It’s a pity. I rather liked him.”

Kagome’s face fell glumly. Her eyes returned to the tomb also.

“Well,” she said bitterly, sniffing, “that’s more in the way of last respects than Inuyasha’s bothered to pay him.” She hazarded an upward glance at him. “Do you know where he is?”

“I always know where he is.”

Kagome frowned at this cryptic response, but she didn’t press him on it, unsure whether she even really wanted to know or not. Sesshoumaru’s eyes flicked to her, luminescent in the low light.

“Where is my son?”

Kagome bristled at his choice of words, but she chose to let it slide. “He’s with Rin-chan. She offered to look after him for a little while.”

Sesshoumaru nodded. His eyes darkened a shade as he stepped toward her.

“How kind of her.”

Kagome scrambled to her feet. Her hackles rose at the simmering undercurrent in his aura, his laden tone. She balled her fists as she glared at him. 

“This really isn’t the time.”

Sesshoumaru gave a mirthless chuckle. “When has it ever been?” Pausing, he crooked a claw at her. “Come here, my love, and let me soothe your sorrows.”

When Kagome retreated a vehement step, he pursued her. His hair gleamed like whipcords of silver in the lashing autumn breeze. His eyes burned like two slitted suns. He caught her around the waist. Her palms flew reflexively to his armored chest, hot against the cold ethereal steel.

Her eyes seared into his, alight with anger. It was a relief to her in a way, to feel angry instead of sad. The drawback was that the heat of her temper loosened her tongue, made her snap out at him against her pre-determined intentions not to do so—

“Did you do it on purpose? Did you let Miroku catch us together that day?”

Sesshoumaru brought his face close to hers, so close that their lips almost touched. “Does it even matter what I say?”

“Yes,” Kagome said hotly.

“No,” Sesshoumaru replied, his eyes blazing back into hers. “I didn’t ‘let’ him.”

Kagome’s jaw clenched. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have asked,” he said, as he brought his mouth down onto hers. 

Kagome struggled against him, raged against him. She tried to shove back from him, but he wouldn’t release her. He kissed her again. She bit down on his lower lip, making him snarl, making him groan. Making her do it again until they were ravishing each other’s mouths in ferocious abandon.

Somehow he steered them back into the trees at the edge of the graveyard. They fell there together among the cold twisted roots that stabbed up into her back. He wrenched her funeral garb aside, driving into her with his own silken clothes coming undone around them. They met together in the middle, flesh for striving flesh. Kagome’s eyes rolled back, weeping. She cried out his name into his sharp smothering mouth. All her violent grief collapsed to a smoldering point of singularity, as he stoked them both into blissful oblivion, if only for a moment.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Revised 12/5/23