A Self Called Nowhere

Yes it's sad to say you will romanticize
All the things you've known before
It was not not not so great
It was not not not so great

And as you fall from grace the only words you say are

Put your hand inside the puppet head

--They Might Be Giants


He lowered his head, lips hovering just above hers. There was a sharp intake of breath, as she looked up at him with wide, startled eyes. He was so close. TOO close. And she realized something then. From the other side of the battlefield she'd noticed his annoying perfection. Who couldn't deny he was good looking? No one. But up close that perfection passed annoying and without even signaling it drove straight into aggravating. Now to have that annoying perfection right in her face, doing things he clearly shouldn't be doing was a bit on the disconcerting side.

Her disconcertion changed to downright disturbing when he began to sniff her. Proving to her for once and for all that the gods, fate and most likely physics all hated her and had conspired to make her life utterly miserable.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, very, very slowly. He did it again and again and again. Each time was more disturbing than the last. And when he opened his eyes, they bore straight into her and she froze confused and afraid at what he might do because he didn't really seem like he was going to kill her. IF he wasn't going to kill her...then what WAS he going to do? More nuzzling and licking?

God, she hoped not...

She almost missed being afraid for her life as he lowered himself further. With a tenderness someone like him should lack, he leaned in and carefully pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, his breath ghosting against her skin as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. It wasn't a kiss, instinctively she knew this, but it was still just...weird and wrong, and it frightened her very deeply. She whimpered then but kept her mouth firmly shut, unable to hold the feelings of terror at bay. He didn't notice as he touched his lips to hers a second time, his tongue darting out to lick the side of her mouth as a parting gift. She wanted to pinch her eyes closed but they remained stubbornly open, gazing with bald-faced fear at the visage of her tormenter. Her only thought was a petulant and unhelpful lament about 'Stupid youkai and their stupid-ness that they are.'

She just gave up. She didn't really care anymore. She just wanted this whole ordeal over with. Defeated, she lay back and closed her eyes, wishing for the day to just end. She didn't see him pull away, nor did she notice him lightly sniffing the air around her...as if looking for something. He apparently found it, growling in a manner that she guessed was as close to content as it'd ever be as he nuzzled her neck.

She groaned and softly hit her head on the forest floor.

"What did I ever do to deserve this?" she grumbled out loud, much to her dismay.

The youkai nuzzling her neck didn't seem to object or even notice she'd said anything. He was far to busy nuzzling. She pouted, feeling very sorry for herself and very annoyed with him.

"Why don't you just get up?" she said, with a groan and a half sob, "Get up. Get uuuuuuuup. Please, just get up."

She really wanted to cry, but oddly enough, tears wouldn't come. So she had to settle for feeling miserable, afraid and angry all at once, with absolutely no outlet. She honestly couldn't take it anymore. Again, she gathered her courage. If he wouldn't end this madness, she would.

Hands shaking, she placed them firmly on his chest and pushed. It barely moved him, but it served neatly as an attention grabber. He growled softly, but she ignored it.

"Sesshoumaru, stop."

This earned another, almost derisive, growl, and then more nuzzling, as if to say 'Make me'. If she thought she'd get away with it, she would have smacked him over the nose with some newspaper for that. He really did deserve it at this point.

She pushed again, saying more firmly, "STOP!"

Another growl rumbled through his chest, this one lower and slightly more menacing before he nuzzled her a fourth time. She didn't really care anymore. He'd either let her up or she'd die trying. That was really what it all came down to. She pushed a third time with much more force.

"I said, STOP!"

He made a sort of funny half-bark, half-growl before lifting his head in apparent dissatisfaction. Fluidly, he stopped nuzzling the left side of her neck, deciding that her right was being neglected. She was about to up the ante when his lips came in contact with the mark she knew was there. It was as if a switch had been flipped. Her eyes widened dramatically, pupils constricting to pin pricks as she could faintly hear the sound of a bell clapping. There was a pulse deep inside her, and she gasped. Everything went deathly still. So quiet that even the smallest noise sounded like thunder. It was as if everything was frozen in that moment, and the world was too afraid to move lest it be discovered.

Her vision became blurred and sound was muffled. She felt dizzy, disoriented. Fluid reality unraveling behind fluttering lashes, she stared at the sky. What was happening? Confusion. Feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion that she could not be sure was hers alone, she tried to force her hands to work...but her muscles felt too loose as if they were made from putty. Everything was torn on the edges like wet paper and when she grasped for clarity, it crumbled mushily between the fingers of her reality.

Head lolling, eyes glazed and unfocused, she tried very hard to continue her objections. Pleading with him to stop, though what came out of her mouth were a series of unrelated sounds that had meaning only in her own head. Hands futilely smacked on bare skin, so she lingered instead. It was hard not to. Smooth and warm, and just beneath her fingertips...she swore she could feel his heart beating.

Blinking slowly, she turned her head to try and look at him. Something was surging from within. It felt like she had lied down on the shore and had let the sea bury her underneath the relentless tide. Hands that once thought to still his movement to stop what was to come forgot their purpose and just felt. She gazed at him with glassy eyed distance, watching him from within, under the crashing waves. Her hand moved languidly, eyes focused on the side of face and the long line of his neck. Staring for several minutes, her addled mind finally registered a very important fact. His neck...the flesh on his neck that had been discolored was now unblemished. Perfectly clear. She touched the area curiously, eyes examining the flesh as if looking for imperfection. The only flaw she found was a little scar in the shape of a diamond right behind his ear. It seemed familiar somehow, but the walls of her mind were sticky and she couldn't pull her memories down. A finger grazed the scar, and intoxicating warmth vibrated through her. Her eyes fluttered and her heart pounded.

In the deep black behind her lids, she could see dancing ribbons of light that curled over the borders in time with a litany of bells. They chimed, and the light grew, changed, bright gold foliage overlapping 'round vibrant violet flora, opening and closing sinuously. Sighing, it echoed. Everything was growing around her and for a second, she could almost forget where she was...who she was. With a crushing gasp, she forced herself to remember. Fingers clawing through the foliage, tearing leaf and bloom as she struggled to the surface. Kicking her legs, she could almost feel the weight of the air so far above her.

This is...wrong.

Her eyes shot open as she tried to resist the languorous tug of pleasure. It held onto her ankle fast, and wouldn't let her go. All wrong. And it tugged harder, she kicked and it held. Struggling, she tried to recite any mind numbing fact in hopes that it'd somehow remind her of things she knew she couldn't forget. Her hand still lay on his neck, just touching the little scar that was a twin to her own. Wearily, she willed herself to pull away, to stop this. Is this...the ritual...Her mind worked sluggishly, crawling on the ground as she tried to maintain control over her consciousness. She could feel the spell stripping it all away, holding her underneath the water until its work was done. And she...and she. She couldn't hold on, couldn't keep kicking.

Desperately, her eyes turned to look at her hand as it rested over the scar, faintly rubbing the skin with a single, outstretched finger. From the scar a light flickered. It was a gentle thing, unknown and slightly strange. For a moment, she doubted her own sanity, wiping her eye in hopes that it was a trick of the light. Perhaps an eyelash had gotten in her eye, but the light was no trick. It grew, grew and twined around itself, moving underneath his skin and all she could do was watch with rapt fascination. To her it seemed as if the spell beneath her eyes had migrated and took residence in his flesh.

She could feel it pull at her skin...could feel the dull tingle of power being suctioned from her to him and back again...feeding each other. Violent light twirled, becoming a spiraling shape that whirled in wider and wider circles underneath his skin from hers. The shape moved, grew, activating other shapes and paths, until a crawling river of light flowed across his pale flesh. Even more amazing, the same river moved across hers, though she was gold where he was violet. And when she flexed her fingers, the light rippled.

Her eyes absorbed the light and she was drawn in, compelled to follow the flickering river ever downstream. It was impossible to think clearly with the lights getting in the way. Impossible to think and feel, when she was drifting, drowning in the lights. The last vestiges of rational thought rebelled, using what little resistance she could give to try pull back the reigns. It saw the cliff, it felt the danger and tried to steer her clear. To pull her from the depths of the lull her body and mind were falling into. Her eyes were forced open and she moaned.

She was warm. Too warm. Her heart pounded thickly in her chest, as she breathed in quick pants. Cheeks flushed. The heady feeling of his mouth on her skin added to these sensations, punctuating them as he continued to lavish attention on her neck. He moved in slow circles and it was deviously distracting. So easy to fall into. It went along so nicely with all the other feelings and it was hard to remember that this was wrong. She could feel the pressure of his mouth exerted and it was an anchor, dragging her farther under into the deep. The light emanating from them both intensified, and wrapped around each other. Another bell sounded, ringing loudly in her ears as it reverberated through body and soul.

The ritual...this is...wrong...this is...

She thought it was the other, but she was so wrong and she realized, or tried to before her thoughts fell, tumbling away from her. It was like writing on a cold window pane. Her breath fanned across its surface and as fast as she wrote, it disappeared before she could fully understand its meaning. She struggled again, but it was all in vain.

His light was too tightly wrapped around hers, in an increasingly constricting spiral, and she could feel them merge as almost a physical sensation. She shivered, but not because she was cold. Whimpering helplessly, she was overcome by the dizzying sensations pushed down on her. She was drowning, she knew it now. Drowning willingly and she surrendered herself to it. Any resistance she had to what they were being made to do was gone, stripped bare by the light and the bells. She forgot who she was. Forgot where she was. Forgot anything and everything...and nothing at all.

There was a feeling of weightlessness, yet she was too heavy. Gravity tugged her home, desperately trying to keep her earthbound soul from flying out of reach...to keep her feet on the ground while the source-less light tugged her towards the heavens. Earth relinquished its grasp on her, and she let go. There was a gasp and her body arched into his, as if recognizing its own freedom. A hand roved seemingly without true purpose and where flesh touched flesh, more lighted shapes appeared. With every bit of contact, the combined aura that swirled around the writhing couple flared soundlessly.

Her arms hung limply mid-air, fingers just barely touching ground. Gently, she grasped individual stones, dirt, anything she could touch. Her eyes opening and closing, hazily looking upward, and she shivered in pleasure. There was a nice feeling at her neck. Someone was trailing tender, open mouthed kisses across her flesh. It felt good. She looked back up at the sky, feeling the ground beneath her as she left it.

She was here for a reason.

She'd made a promise but she couldn't remember what that was.

The pleasant kissing feeling continued, sometimes intensifying when the kisses became a bit wetter. He moved to her chest and she gasped, almost disappointed when he stopped. The one who kissed her lifted his head and rubbed his cheek against hers. It was vaguely animalistic, and a bit bizarre, but it felt oddly right. Hesitantly, she responded in kind. It pleased him. That was good. Her mind wandered back to the reason she was here...what was it?

A ritual?

His hand distracted her. It moved along her arm, grazing her breast. Her heart beat faster and she leaned into it. Want. She felt disappointed when his hand didn't linger. Do you want this? Did she really want it to? Something answered yes and she had to agree...it did feel nice. But it's wrong. She didn't like that whisper. So she ignored it...it was easy.

The hand trailed down her side and she gasped as his hand slipped beneath her shirt. She was wearing a shirt? She supposed she was. No matter. His hand went beneath it and visited her breast, cupping it gently. He squeezed, fingers massaging her flesh. His thumb teasingly grazing her nipple, moving over it in small circles until it was so erect it hurt. She moaned.

....There was a reason....

She could hear her shirt being ripped, could feel the cool air against her skin. Her hair whipped against her back and all around her. Errant tendrils seemed to float in place, as if under water. They drifted upwards to mingle with the moonlit silver of his hair. Black and white merging together like the lights did. Like the bells. Everything merged and grew, and they should be like everything. Growing.

Her hands stopped grasping at the ground. She didn't need what she didn't want to touch. Timidly, she reached for him, her hands moving over his flesh hesitantly. Every touch inspired new shapes and this gave her courage, drove the doubting voices away. New avenues of light were made in the wake of her roving fingertips. She smiled, lightly drawing her hands up and down his sides, exploring him. His chest rumbled against her fingers. She kissed his neck lightly and he growled in return. The sound was pleasurable, warm and comforting, and she curled into him. Her face buried in the crook of his neck, she kissed it again, more sensuously, which earned another low growl as her tongue wetted his skin. She closed her eyes, tracing circles on his back, his hand tracing hers in return.

He lowered his head, nudging her face from his neck to rub his cheek against hers, stopping only to lightly kiss her temple. It was a tender, affectionate gesture, meant to encourage and it worked. Emboldened, she mimicked him, nudging him back and placing hesitant kisses on his cheek. These gentle shows of affection built and became less tentative, and more certain, less light and innocent, and more darkly sensual. Their bodies stretched and pressed against each other, the light that drew them together humming through flesh and bone. It encouraged the growing passion in each caress, and drew them further and further away from the surface.

Her hand swept over his back again, fingers splaying...drawing across his spine and she bucked underneath him. Surging upward, she kissed him, her lips pressing against his in a gesture that was all sweet innocence. It was a surprise to him, as kissing on the lips wasn't a common sign of affection in his kind. It was a human thing but no less pleasant. Their lips moved softly against each other, causing her to buck again, pressing more firmly into him, her mouth opening slightly in nervous invitation.

He took it. Applied it and improved it.

Emitting a soft growl, his hand stopped roving and held her harder, pressing her against him until all he could feel was his flesh against hers. Languidly, he moved his lower body over hers, sliding a leg between her thighs. Pressing flush against her so she could feel how she'd undone him. She sighed softly, slowly curling her leg around his hip to press on his back, grinding him into her. She knew what she'd done. He inhaled, controlling desire as his eyes drooped closed, head tilting to breathe in her scent. And it smelled like home. With gradually growing passion, he nuzzled her, trailing more small kisses, nips and licks over her exposed skin.

Their clothes had long ago been discarded as she writhed underneath him, her inexperience showing in her every movement. She wanted, but what she wanted, she hardly knew anything about other than her want. Her desire. Her hips lifted, as if beckoning. He shifted above her, and the feeling of his flesh rubbing against her sex was delicious torment. His member was pressed against her thigh and he shifted again, positioning it above her cunt. He moved, fluidly pressing his groin against hers, his member coaxing her labia apart. The gentle motion was like a licking flame, burning every nerve it touched as it spread its fingers upwards. She moved her other leg slowly from underneath him, and he moved with her. The warmth as their flesh touched, the anticipation of being closer to completion, was nearly unbearable.

She maneuvered him so that he lay between her thighs, and he allowed himself to be positioned. They exhaled together, seemingly relieved. Completion was so close. They were working their way to an end and the lights danced in anticipation of it. The river that ran over their bodies flaring as the power they gathered merged more completely. All around them was silence, the world at large understanding the unnaturalness of it. Their bodies were dim and tingling, desire coursing like blood and fire, the bell tolled again. Pushing inescapable fate forward.

He thrust, probing for an opening. His cock rubbed over her warm, slick cunt, teasing her clit as he pressed against her. She squirmed underneath him, all senses tuned to that pleasure. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pushing him into her and her perception dulled, fading into deep black and all she could do was feel. For long minutes, all he did was coax and tease, and it was driving her insane. She wanted, and he was denying her release, denying her desire. Every nerve tingled with it, called out for it to be satisfied. As if sensing her growing tension, he positioned the head of his member at her vaginal opening, barely plying it open with a single, soft stroke. She gasped, pained by even such a small invasion, pushing on his shoulders to defy the agony. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and she stilled. This was for her benefit, though she didn't know it...and he seemed to tease her then, pushing in and then slowly pulling out as if experimenting. Each not so gentle thrust made her cry out, wanting the pain he offered and denying it in the same breath.

But...it had to be completed. The bell tolled, pulsing with every heartbeat, pushing them on and further into the somber deep, ringing as they followed the light, and the tide that pulled them ever forward.

In a single, simultaneous motion, he bit her shoulder to hold her still and brutally thrust into her. He didn't stop to allow her to adjust and he offered her no comfort in her pain. She was forced to allow the agony to pass all on her own. Her fingers clawed his back as she shuddered, tears pouring down her cheeks. She buried her face into his chest and clung to him. Slowly, the terrible feeling of being torn apart faded and something more pleasurable surfaced, she still felt raw and abraded, but it was superseded by gradually throbbing desire as he moved within her.

He was neither fast, nor slow. Not gentle, but not nearly as bestial as he could be. He took his time in all things. Nothing was rushed, and his strokes were passionately languid. He moved with the rocking sea, adrift on her ocean. Soon she was tilting her hips up and into him, encouraging him to delve deeper, her cunt clenching around his cock with virginally impatient urgency. She moaned breathlessly, eyes opening to gaze at him. His panting visage was blotted out by the sun and she reached for him. Her fingers brushing over flushed skin, tracing the contours of the brightening fire burned into their flesh.

The stream flows into the river, the river into the ocean, and so it was with them. The divine and the demonic merged fully and they were lost, wild and untamed things. Unthinking. Unable to distinguish where one ended and the other began, sharing more than any two beings were meant to share. The air around them dampened, the power they created and shared growing and expanding around them as they writhed, bucked...heaved against each other. Their souls drowning in ecstasy as their cries went from the softest whisper, to sharp, passion filled gasps. They pushed deeper into each other, coming closer to the apex. A shuddering end.

Shrieking pleasure thrummed through her body and she opened her eyes to gaze at the sky. Her hand tangled in his hair, fingers brushing the pointed tip of his ear. She pulled back to look her lover in the eye. He gazed back, golden eyes gone glassy in passion. She was entranced by the intertwined light that sculpted the air around them. His pale hair fanning out like a halo...so white...a brighter version of its brother silver...it reminded her of something...someone...

Inuyasha...?

It didn't seem right to call him that. It was wrong...so very wrong...no...his name was more ominous than that...more beautiful for it. He was death and life in an endless circle and she was surrounded by him, penetrated by him.

She moaned. He was soft and hard within her, stroking with urgent calm, as if he knew what it was they were driving towards. He could see the road, while she merely anticipated it. His pace quickened. Her heart beat faster...in time with his. Their breathing became labored with it, each of them panting shakily as they teetered on the edge. She strained against exhaustion, fighting to fall over that edge. The sensation of him inside of her was overwhelming, a revelation and it strangled every nerve with pleasure. She could do nothing to relieve it, but lay still, allowing him to slowly build ecstasy only slow down just when relief might come. Trembling, wanting, she panted as again he began to thrust into her harder, faster.

It was all a teasing game and she wondered when he'd stop again or slow down as he had before. But this time, he didn't. He penetrated her fluidly, his cock rubbing against her vaginal walls. She was slick and open, receptive, tightening around his member as it thrust in and out of her. He growled deep in his throat, licking and biting at her neck. She could do nothing in return, but moan weakly, her hands gently caressing his back as she submitted fully. Her legs opening wide and welcoming as he thrust deeper into her and with more urgency. He growled softly and she lightly kissed his collar bone, fingers tracing fine patterns on his back. And he slowed minutely, pushing more deeply inside her.

A gasp. With gradually released passion, ecstasy built and grew. There was a delicate quality to it that was utterly intoxicating, and she breathed into his skin. He into hers. And they were lost. Vision faded as she fell over the edge and she opened her mouth to cry soundlessly. She spasmed and moaned as the universe imploded around her. Everything was dark, warm and it was so deep. Eyes snapped open. She rushed to reach the surface and cried out as the implosion reversed, exploding starlight briefly blinding her. He came slightly after her, shuddering and panting.

Her heart was beating so fast, it was a wonder it didn't break her ribcage.

She sighed, and turned her head. Eyes opening and closing as she recovered and the world came back to her. Her hair swayed in the wind, fingers grasping at nothing. There was a long period of silence as the intertwined couple fell back to earth. It was a slow, laborious journey, as both of them were exhausted. Their auras receded. The spiraling shapes ceased movement. No longer glowing, they retreated underneath their skin, like sun dulled tattoos, until nothing was left but smooth flesh. The spell broken, they fell the remaining several inches to the ground with an unceremonious flump, the impact disturbing the soft leaves that covered the forest floor. Above them, the wind whispered gently through the trees and the forest was alive again. Not that the exhausted pair resting beneath the forest's trembling bowers noticed. They were far too exhausted to care.

She had closed her eyes tiredly, her hands falling limply to her sides. He was as spent as she was, resting his head against her shoulder as he breathed shakily. They were flushed and sweaty, and it took several minutes for them to even begin to recover from their activities.

Her heart still pounded, she dimly recognized something significant happened. She almost felt whole but at the same time, broken. One thing became clear as her conscious mind surface. Something wasn't right. Something had inexplicably changed. She regained true consciousness as the strings that held her snapped. The ritual was complete. They were bound within it, and had been released. Suddenly, she remembered who she was.

A feeling of sharp horror flooded her. She remembered. She remembered. She remembered but she wished she hadn't. Shaking, she felt her entire body go numb and cold. As if to confirm her fears, she scrutinized her current position. She was naked. She knew this because she could feel the sharp points of sticks and stones and other forest flotsam digging into her ass. Then, it came to her attention there was a very naked someone else above her. She knew this because she could also feel him as he pressed his considerable bulk on top of her. But it wasn't this fact that disturbed her the most. It was the last realization that nearly broke her. She didn't exactly remember everything that happened but she had a rather disturbing guess. That guess was a cold, hard fact, and once she realized it. Once she knew it, she couldn't un-know it. The guess that was now a fact became sure knowledge of what they'd done...

He was inside her.

She could feel him softening inside. Her lips trembled and her eyes closed, wishing very hard that this was just a stupid, stupid dream. This was the price she paid for helping him. This was the cost and she knew, too late, that the price she'd paid was too high. This...this was what Sango and Miroku were worried about. Why hadn't they warned her? She wanted so badly to blame them, him, anyone but herself but deep down, she knew. Even if they had, she'd be arrogant enough to assume that she'd be strong enough to resist. She was so sure in her love for the hanyou. So sure in her own knowledge of self...She'd fought off spells like this before and she would have assumed she could have done it again. It was that kind of arrogance that had gotten her here.

But she'd forgotten that all those times she fought back there was always someone else to catch her when she fell. Always someone to hold her back, to bring her back, to save her from certain doom, but this time there was no one. And oh, how she'd fallen. Trembling violently, she bit her lip to stifle a cry as she felt tears rise.

"Oh, god..." she breathed, "What have I done?"

It would have been understandable had she not been complicit. She should have fought harder, but she just surrendered to it. It was all his fault and yet it wasn't. Why hadn't they warned her? Why was this happening? She should have just gone home and what killed her was that none of this lamenting was doing any good. It only made the tears come faster and the strangled sorrow more acute. And it all boiled down to one, final realization, that it wouldn't have felt as bad if he'd really forced her. If a part of her hadn't wanted to fuck him. It was so much worse because she knew...she had wanted it. She knew she'd enjoyed it. It was a horrible feeling. There was shame, embarrassment and most of all, the knowledge that she'd betrayed her friends, her family, herself and worst of all, Inuyasha. The very person she trusted the most. Who trusted her, which was a miracle really, because he'd been betrayed so badly in the past and now...

If he knew...and with his brother. His brother who he hated and who hated him.

It'd destroy him.

Kagome couldn't hold back the wet, choking sob that escaped her lips at that moment. It was too much. She didn't know which emotion to feel out of the thousands that beat against her heart. Nameless horror. Eternal shame. Sorrow. Anger. She felt lost. A single miserable soul in a vast sea, alone and completely helpless.

Was this what going insane was like?

She wanted to die or maybe just remain blissfully unaware. She wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out.

She ached.

His breath disturbed the air on her neck and suddenly, she remembered he was there, his presence looming through her pain. In that moment, more than anything else, she wanted him off of her. What they'd done disgusted her. It was revolting and wrong, and she hated him for dragging her into it. Tears flooding her cheeks, she panicked and began to push and hit at him, crying hysterically as she whispered incoherently, her muffled words commanding him to get off of her.

She got her wish.

Slowly, he lifted himself up off her with grace a one armed man should lack.

Slowly, his eyes opened as he knelt above her.

And slowly, he leveled a cold, steely glare at her, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.

She stilled, tears drying stickily on her cheeks as she stared dumbly up at him. His eyes...Her heart pounded. Breath quickened. His eyes were gold. They were red before, almost black and now...they'd changed back to their natural color. This must have been a side effect of the ritual. Whatever they'd done had driven back the poison almost completely, allowing his rational side to come out. She was at first awed by this, but it quickly changed to something more akin to fear. A look of pure disgust flickered across his eyes and his lip slightly trembled with a repressed growl. He knew then. He knew and was no happier about what had happened than she. She suddenly wished for him to be all blood lusty again, because dealing with that side of him was infinitely less terrifying.

Time froze as they stared at each other. One pair of eyes held shame and fear, the other revulsion and fury. Both were pulled into this moment unwillingly, wishing that none of this had come to pass. But there would be no commiseration, despite the uncomfortable position they both shared and the consequences that would come of it.

Unadulterated hate glittered behind his eyes, and though he said not a word, she could feel his outrage at this opprobrious situation, which he plainly blamed her for. His face was as blank as it had ever been, only touched lightly by the deep fury that boiled underneath. Not even twitching a muscle, he lifted his hand and her eyes widened. His nails elongated and began to glow sickly green. She'd been afraid of death before but never was it so certain, so real.

There was no way out of this. No hope of escape was-so-ever.

He was really going to kill her.

She remembered someone had once said that there was no such thing as a quick death. That for the person experiencing it, the time of their death was lengthened with the agony of retreating life. Kagome couldn't be sure if that was one hundred percent true in all cases, but at the moment, she had to agree. Everything seemed to pause before going in incredibly slow motion, the world moving around her in stilted fragments. Her horrified stare was frozen on his hand as he turned it, holding it straight out as he lunged forward. In the few seconds she had to think, she suddenly realized that she really didn't want to die as much as she previously thought. Watching his fingers glowing with bright, sick green, she knew that she had to do something quickly. Something...now. She closed her eyes and held out her hands in a warding gesture, calling out to her power behind the black of her lids. It lifted hesitantly to the surface, seeping from her outstretched hands with static bursts of energy. Kagome opened her eyes slightly, catching the beautiful flicker of effulgent violet light gathering between her fingers. Her elation died seconds later when the light died.

There was a stillborn moment then, as she opened her eyes to gaze at her hands and then back at him. He was doing the same thing as she had been, staring at his hand as if it wasn't his own. Flexing his fingers, his gaze turned to her, eyes dark with suspicion. She could see his decision to just kill her with his bare claws, it reflected deep in his eyes. He lifted his hand again, but this time hesitated. His eyes fluttered, and he looked at her with a glazed expression of confusion. He wavered above her, head lolling before he collapsed on top of her in a dead faint.

Kagome cried out in pain, breathing almost immediately becoming a serious issue. Groaning, she twisted underneath him, gasping for air like a fish. Her lungs burnt like fire and she wasn't sure if it were from oxygen deprivation or if her lung had been punctured by his falling on her. In a desperate bid to breathe, she bucked and kicked at him, while trying not to think about what she looked like. Trying not to remember what they'd done. Thoughts like these made escape that much harder, goading her into a full out panic. She was tired, distraught and generally out of sorts. Straining her weary muscles, she managed to push him off her just a little. Inhaling and exhaling with sharp, desperate gasps, she renewed her effort, pushing away anything that wasn't useful in the moment. Despite this, she often lost focus, wasting precious time on pointless emotional outbursts at the slightest hint of defeat. For this reason, squirming out from underneath him seemed to take eons.

Once she finally rolled him off of her, she sat up and stared out into space, breathing heavily. After a beat, she shivered as feeling came back into her body. Hugging her knees, she drew into herself and began to cry softly. Her entire body shook as the cries became near hysterical sobs, and in an effort to comfort herself, she began to rock back and forth. It didn't work, because the only thing she wanted right at that moment wasn't there. She wanted her mother. It was stupid, and childish, but it was exactly what she needed. If her mother was holding her, things would be okay. If her mother was there, things would make more sense. If her mother was here...right now...she wouldn't hurt so much. But her mother wasn't here, she was a whole world away and it made her cry that much harder. She cried for quite some time. Until her voice was hoarse and useless. She felt nauseous and light headed, her stomach muscles hurting from the sheer effort she'd put into crying. Her sinuses were so overloaded, she could barely breathe. Snot and tears ran down her face, which just made her feel like a foolish child. Sullenly, she realized that's just what she was. A few more strangled sobs escaped her lips, before petering out.

She just couldn't cry anymore, she was far too tired.

Sniffling wetly, she blearily beheld the world, tears drying stickily on her cheeks. She balled her fists and tried her best to wipe them away as the sun filtered through the trees. A tremor ran through her body and she turned her puffy, reddened eyes to the comatose youkai that lay sprawled in an ungainly heap next to her.

She stared at him, her body so tense it felt like every muscle had been tightened and coiled underneath her skin. He looked quite peaceful, if a bit uncomfortable, as he laid there. Too close and not far enough away. She focused on his hair as it lay haphazardly tangled on the ground, leaves and dirt peppered throughout it like sprinkled seasoning. Pouting, she picked out a particularly large leaf from his hair, and twirled it idly between her fingers. Blowing air between her lips, she wrinkled her nose and threw the leaf away, her gaze returning to the recumbent youkai beside her. She watched his chest rise and fall evenly, quite a change from the way things were a few hours ago. He could barely draw breath, and look now, all breathing easily and fancy free. She laughed shortly, sounding more like a rusty bark than anything else. The thought didn't humor her as much as she'd hoped. Her face fell and she simply stared at him some more, trying to make sense of things. Slowly, thoughts began to form as she noticed something odd about him. She knew there was something out of place, beyond what they'd done, there was something else. Something less obvious, but her eyes were seemingly incapable of seeing it or her mind wasn't understanding what it was she was seeing.

Then it clicked.

His skin was still pale, but it had a healthy peachy cast to it, rather than the dull yellow-gray it'd been earlier. He had looked almost cadaverous, but now he was pretty much back to normal. His markings were bright. His hair was annoyingly lustrous. But there was something else she just wasn't seeing.

"His injuries..."

He was grimy and covered with dried blood and god knows what else, so she couldn't tell...but...

There was a moment of indecision as she hugged her knees a bit closer, worrying her lip as her eyes darted over the very naked youkai next to her. Curiosity, as always, got the best of her. Hesitantly, she scooted closer to him and casting quick glances at him, she reached out and rubbed some of the blood away on his shoulder. She had remembered there had been a really nasty cut there before. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, and it vaguely hurt. Her fingers searched the flesh and found nothing. It was healed. Shaking her head, Kagome wiped away more blood that should have come from visible injuries. Injuries that had now become shadows, the only evidence of them ever existing in reality was the blood they'd left behind.

Gone. They were all gone.

Dumbstruck, she fell into a numb stupor as she processed the information, her hand straying a bit too long on his chest. She shook herself, snapping back into reality with a quiet shudder. Noticing where her hand was, she jerked it back as if she'd been burned, pushing herself away from him with shaky resolve.

If there was one thing anyone could say about Higurashi Kagome, it was this. She was a very resilient young woman. Resilient and resourceful.

Several things were immediately clear to her. The ritual had healed him almost completely. She had no doubt, though, that the kindoku was still present in his system and that this was only a second wind. It would begin to ravage his system again if the cure wasn't applied. But still...he was healed. Not only of the immediate effects of the poison, but his wounds as well. This, in and of itself, was a curiosity and she could only wonder what it might bode.

Knowing this, she'd be hard put to explain to anyone else how it happened. Uncomfortable questions could be asked and she didn't want to answer those questions. Miroku and Sango would know one way or the other. They obviously knew more about this ritual than she.

What was she going to do?

There was no way to explain this...no way...

Looking at him, he still looked a fright; he was bloody, dirty and unkempt. They'd never know until they got him back to the village. The way he looked, they might just want to give him the cure right away, before caring for his wounds. If she insisted...they'd never have to know. They'd just assume the cure took care of it, and they'd never be the wiser. There was a chance her plan might fail. A big chance. And she didn't like lying, but it wasn't like she was lying outright. She wouldn't really have to say a thing, other than to insist they give him the cure right then and there.

Besides, she didn't really want anyone knowing the truth.

What to tell them about what happened to her?

Someone was bound to notice the state she was in, and there'd be questions.

Shakily, she stood and began to look for her clothes. She'd be as honest as she could. It wasn't so much lying as it was omitting certain parts of the story. They didn't take this kind of thing lightly in the feudal era. In her time it was frowned upon but it wasn't like it was a death worthy offense as it was here. It'd be better for all involved if they didn't know. They didn't have to. It was her business anyway. Her problem to deal with....depending on whether or not he'd try to kill her again when he woke up.

She guessed he wouldn't.

The manifestation of his acid had failed before he passed out, just like her power failed when she tried to use it against him. Kagome wasn't sure what that meant, but she was pretty sure it was significant. Or maybe it wasn't, she didn't give half a damn at this point.

After a few minutes of searching she found her pajama bottoms and her shirt, which was nearly shredded to pieces. Where her underwear had gotten to was a mystery. She would have looked for them longer, but she heard faint noises coming from not to far off. Voices, there were voices in the forest and they called her name. Abandoning the search for her underwear, she could only hope they managed to rot because she didn't particularly relish the idea of her grundies surviving five hundred years into the future to be dug up by some archeologist's research assistant.

She grasped her clothes in one hand, running over to the small stream to wash off her face and hands. And arms...and pretty much everything. Scrubbing away the blood and dirt, her hand came in contact with her shoulder. His claws had dug into that shoulder. It should hurt. There should have been five neat little claw marks there but there was nothing. Startled, Kagome, for the first time since she'd woken from her trance, took stock of her own condition. She looked over her body as the voices got closer, her gaze falling to her feet, and the bandages that were still there. Quickly, she pulled her torn shirt and pants on, struggling a bit as she tied the shredded bits of shirt back together. Hopping on one foot, she pulled a bandage off and examined her foot. What had looked like raw hamburger hours before was now completely healed. Her eyes widened. What the hell did this mean?

Before she could suss out an answer, she clearly heard Miroku's voice calling her name and it was very, very close. It suddenly occurred to her that Sesshoumaru was naked. Extremely naked. This wouldn't do much for any explanation she could think up. Racing back to where she left him, she searched for and found his pants, which were the worse for wear. She then proceeded to try and put those same pants on. Contrary to popular belief, doing this wasn't as easy as it seemed. The unconscious youkai was very heavy and uncooperative. His pants didn't help by being in tatters. They kept ripping in places and it was beyond frustrating. But the deed was ultimately done, leaving Kagome more exhausted than she was before.

"KAGOME!!"

Her head shot up at the sound of Miroku's voice and her heart quickened its pace.

"Crap!"

She looked down at Sesshoumaru one last time. Her gaze was hardened with confusion. Why did this have to happen? Why to her? Why with him? There was so much she didn't know, and too much she did. Without thinking, she reached out a replace an errant hair that had come to rest over his face. As she tucked it behind his ear, she seemed to realize what she was doing. She stood abruptly and ran blindly away from him, following the sounds of her friend's voices.

The world blurred and she nearly cried out for joy when she saw a flicker of purple through the trees. She stumbled towards Miroku, calling out his name tearfully. Running headlong into him, she blurted out her story, which was lost in-between sobs. She did manage to point out where Sesshoumaru had fallen before dissolving into tears. Sango came not long after. Before she could even greet the Slayer, her vision swam. She felt so weak, and she tried to utter a warning before she fell. The words died on her lips as her vision blacked and she fell forward, not knowing who it was who caught her.

It had been Miroku who'd caught her, much to Sango's dismay, though she gave the monk credit for keeping his hands to himself...this time. Looking at the young priestess, Miroku and Sango shared a knowing look. It wasn't spoken, but they knew what had happened or perhaps it was just a lucky guess. They'd arrived at the village to find Sesshoumaru gone, along with Kagome. The only hint as to where they'd gone and what had happened was a rather gory trail that led into the forest. They found the kamaitachi, and another long and unhelpful blood trail that ended abruptly, most likely because the daiyoukai had taken to the air in search for its other prey.

"What should we do?" Miroku asked, picking up the priestess carefully.

The Slayer sighed, turning her back on the monk. She walked forward silently.

He followed and waited for an answer. When he found none, he repeated the question.

"Nothing," she answered quietly.

"There has to be something we can do..."

"I told you, Monk. Once the ritual was started, nothing can stop it."

"We can't just give up. Surely there's a remedy."

"There's nothing." She repeated, desolately, "No remedy. No cure. No fix for this. They'll be consumed and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

"What about Inuyasha? How are we going to..."

The Slayer turned around and glared at him fiercely, "We won't."

"What? We have to..."

"No, we don't."

"But he has a right to kno--"

"YES! He does have a right, Miroku. But think...for a moment think. What will happen if he finds out? All of this ends!" She exploded, startling the monk into silence, "Don't you get it? This is what Naraku wanted. He didn't want Sesshoumaru to die. Not by Inuyasha's hand. Not by any human's hand. He wanted him to live long enough to do this, because he knew...he knew what it'd do."

The Monk paused and gazed solemnly at Sango, who was trembling and visibly upset. It remained unspoken, but they both knew what Naraku had done. He'd set Sesshoumaru against Inuyasha through Kagome. His blood went cold just thinking about it, and his gaze met the priestess in his arms. She'd been used and defiled, and they'd done nothing to stop it, leaving it up to hope and providence that nothing would happen to her. They should have told her. He closed his eyes as guilt assailed him. It'd do little good now, but how else was he supposed to feel.

"We should have warned her."

"It wouldn't have mattered even if we had. Remember what you said about that day at the cemetery. She was acting strange then...that's probably when it started."

"Even if it wouldn't have...we should have warned her..." Miroku said, his voice anguished, "So, what do we do?"

"Pray."

"We have to tell Inuyasha. Even if it means--"

"No," she said, firmly, cutting him off with a glare when he tried to interrupt, "No. If we tell Inuyasha, you know what will happen."

"It's the right thing to do."

"Yes, it is. And say we do the right thing, what then?" She asked, not feeling any kind of triumph when he had no answer, "We tell Inuyasha, our quest ends and Naraku wins. I won't let him. I won't let him get away with this. He will pay, and pay dearly and to do that...we have to be together."

"What about Kagome? To do this...to allow this is unforgivable. She's an innocent..."

Tears hung just behind Sango's eyes, and she looked so close to falling apart. Despite this, when she spoke her voice was unwavering, her gaze hard, "What can we do? We've already lost her."

"So...we just do nothing and move on?" Miroku said, his eyes brightly vehement, "We defeat Naraku at the expense of our friends. Are you really willing to lower yourself to that? Is winning worth that much? Is your desire for revenge so great? We can't just give up..."

Her eyes went cold for a moment, and her jaw set. She answered slowly, her voice forced through her teeth, "You don't understand. If I could do something...I would. It's too late. All we can do is move on, and hope for the best." She paused for a beat before continuing softly, "At the very least, we can give her victory."

At that, the Slayer shook her head, unable to contain her tears. She turned around to hide them from the monk, walking forward on feet that barely felt the ground beneath them. Sighing, the Monk shifted Kagome in his arms, looking down at her placid features with real sympathy. A look of sorrow darkened his face. He tore his gaze away and looked blankly forward, before whispering to the sleeping girl in his arms, "I'm sorry."