Masquerade

Chapter 27 – The Fatal Twist of Egotism
Because I could not stop for Death --
He kindly stopped for me --
The Carriage held but just Ourselves --
And Immortality
--Emily Dickenson


Somewhere, in the back of Sesshoumaru’s mind, he had seen it coming. It was shocking, surprising, and a little disturbing, but he couldn’t comfortably say that the situation and consequences had never crossed his mind. He laid quietly in a pool of silk, bones, miasma, and blood, unsurprised and a little criticizing. Kagome leaned against a tree next to his head, unconscious and wounded but still alive. He turned toward her to the best of his ability, barely wincing when the mind-jarring pain shot through the limbs he had left.

Kagome moaned lowly, her hand rising to caress a large gash on the side of her temple. Sesshoumaru watched her action blankly, his vision blurring and refocusing at random intervals. When her eyes opened he tried valiantly to hide any pain and blood, shifting his arm so that the sleeve rested over the hole burning its way through his chest. “Kagome…”

Her gaze rested on him, blurry at first, then sharp though glassy. “Sesshoumaru?”

He mulled over several different conversational possibilities, weighing his chances at angering her, making her laugh, or seeing her naked one more time before he--

“Did we win?”

Sesshoumaru turned his head away, his eyes shutting languidly. A bitter chuckle worked its way up his throat, but he kept it restrained, offering silence as his answer.

Perhaps some would view it as winning, but right now Sesshoumaru couldn’t feel enough of his brain to analyze the outcome and decide on a certain answer. He loosely strung together the last events of the battle they’d just been faced with, trying to make sense of some of the things that he’d ignored when his attention had been focused solely on destroying the rapidly growing power of Kanna.

“I suppose, in the long run, we did.”

Kagome smiled softly at that, before looking around. Pain flashed over her features -- emotional or physical, Sesshoumaru knew not –- and she turned her attention to him again, crawling slowly forwards. “Sesshoumaru, are you--?” The wind blew and his sleeve flapped up, exposing the unarmored hole in his chest as what was left of Naraku’s miasma ate away at his flesh. Kagome gasped, tears springing to her eyes. “Sesshoumaru…”

The demon lord looked away from her, sighing. “Kanna is dead, and with her the last of Naraku’s hopes of ever again setting foot on this earth. Rejoice in that, Kagome.”

Kagome shot up to her feet, trying valiantly not to hobble or fall over from dizziness, and looked around for Tenseiga, which had yet to return to Sesshoumaru’s possession after that undead soldier stole it. She stumbled forward a few feet, ignoring Sesshoumaru’s commands for her to sit down and worry about her own damn injuries.

She searched the scoured landscape, finally catching sight of the gleaming metal of the healing fang. Immediately, disregarding her own discomfort, Kagome shot towards it, feeling a cut on her leg grow as the sword came fully into view. She grinned triumphantly and grabbed it, yanking it out of the pile of assorted corpses, but froze when it was in her hands, free from the gore. It’s broken…

Half-way down the line of the blade it jaggedly cut off and Kagome panicked. “Sesshoumaru!” she screamed, running back towards the fallen demon lord. By the time she got back to him he had managed to sit himself up on the tree she’d previously been against. Noticing for the first time how close to death he looked, Kagome collapsed next to him and placed Tenseiga’s hilt in his hand. “Can you call the other half? Will it still work? How can--?”

“Kagome. Enough. Tenseiga is a useless scrap of metal at this point.” Though it was faint, Kagome detected the tremble to his voice that signified how weak he really was.

What can I do? She couldn’t heal him; she’d end up purifying his demonic energy from the inside out. Bandages over the cut would be useless, because even as Sesshoumaru’s healing raced to take care of the miasmic hole, Naraku’s lingering essence opened it wider. He’s dying. Her eyes widened, disbelief filling her to the brim as rapidly as the thought had crossed her mind. No! Of course not, this is Sesshoumaru. He’ll never die. I’m supposed to die before him. And I will.

His vision had started distorting more frequently now, and his head felt light -- fuzzy, and a little disconnected. A vicious wind picked up around them, and Kagome’s resolve to ignore what was happening crumbled. She crawled over him, arms on either side of his outstretched legs and wondered if he felt any pain. Sesshoumaru studied her intently, even when she was little more than a blur, wondering what would meet him on the other side of this plane of existence. Funny, I hadn’t ever before pondered what followed death. “Kagome, I--”

“Does it hurt?” she cut him off, somehow sensing where his words were headed.

Sesshoumaru tried to muster up the strength to get agitated, but could only sigh sulkily. “No, I feel nothing. And it’s rude of you to cut off a dying man.”

Kagome’s eyes grew twice their size and her fists clenched in the ground below her. “That’s-- That’s a horrible thing to say.”

Sesshoumaru snorted and willed his arm to move. All he got was a twitch. He glared down at his right hand, trying not to pout. Damn you.

Not completely convinced it wouldn’t hurt him, Kagome hesitated all of two seconds before drawing herself in his lap, curling up like a child and ignoring the acidic smell of miasma leaking from his chest, focusing instead on the familiar smell of spices and parchment that would forever remind her of this demon lord. She sniffed and locked her hand onto his Mokomoko-sama, attempting to anchor him to the ground, to her. “Afterwards,” she began normally, not exactly sure which after she was referring to, “we should have a picnic by that spot outside the Eastern Lands; do you remember? That lovely knoll with the fireflies?”

Sesshoumaru drew in a shuddering breath -– shallow and useless -– and Kagome tried to block out the sounds his body made with the movement. “Masao and Leiko can come, too,” she started again, hoping that maybe, in some small way, she was distracting him. “I’ll even let them bring that disgusting abomination they call a daughter with them, but if she touches you I won’t be held responsible for my actions. You’re mine. I don’t share.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes drifted shut. “If my memory serves right, you’ve always been quite the selfless person. Sharing is second-nature.”

Kagome gasped for show, and the wind whipped harder around them. “Don’t even joke like that! I may share important things but I don’t share my men!”

A golden eye cracked open. “Important things? Men?”

“I meant--! Oh, you know what I meant!”

“You said men. Plural. I’m deeply offended. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Kagome sniffed and buried her face against his neck. “Well, your father had a harem. And two mate-wives.”

“Mate-wives? I don’t believe that is a word. But what is your point?”

“Your father was a man-whore.”

A bark of laughter escaped him and he fought down the cough that rose with it. “Of that, we have no…”

Kagome raised to look into his face, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Sesshoumaru?” She got no response and fear tore through her like a bullet. “Sesshoumaru!”

His brow furrowed and he tried to pry his eyes open, but found himself too tired to do so. “What?” he forced past dry, cracked lips.

Kagome’s breath left her in a whoosh and she wrapped her arms around him, planting her lips on his own. She pulled back and rested her forehead on his own, tears running down her face. “Don’t do that again.”

Sesshoumaru, comforted by her presence, wrapped his previously immobile hand in her hakama. “Promise you won’t leave,” he said, unwilling to berate himself for the small show of weakness.

“I promise,” Kagome offered, her voice broken and choked, more tears falling. “You promise, too.”

Sesshoumaru sucked in another breath and dreamed he was back at his home, in his bed, with the miko, and this was just another calm morning. “I promise.”

Kagome wrapped herself tighter around him, trying to fuse their flesh together. “I love you,” she told him, uncaring if he felt the same way or said so or not, just praying to every kami she could think of to keep him here. She could yell at him for his lack of manners later.

Sesshoumaru breathed out slowly. “You will never feel that way about another. Or I’ll haunt him in my death and push him into every hard surface the idiot comes close to.”

An anguished giggle left her and Kagome was surprised at how much menace he could force into his voice, but more than that – she could hear and feared the bone-deep exhaustion coloring the sentence. “You don’t-- you don’t mean that. You want me to move on and have babies and--”

A growl – weak but furious – left him. “No.”

And that was that, because Kagome knew, even if he hadn’t had said anything, she wouldn’t ever be able to love or feel the same way about anyone else like she loved Sesshoumaru again. It was part of the universal spin that kept Inuyasha an asshole and brought about this. Several minutes passed and Kagome realized Sesshoumaru wasn’t making any more comments and wasn’t drawing anymore breaths. No. She pulled back, staring into his face – relaxed and as emotionless as ever. “Sesshoumaru?” she said softly, voice quivering, hands shaking. Kagome reached out towards his face, laying her palm flat against the cool skin.

He didn’t respond, didn’t twitch or move or psychologically bitch-slap her with a horribly cynical, smart-ass comment, didn’t say a threat or voice something perverse or move and Kagome felt ice-cold fear pool in her chest. “Sesshoumaru, say something,” her voice faltered and her eyes checked him desperately, her hand falling to his neck, then to his chest, feeling nothing. Tears fell more rapidly and she refused to believe it because he’d promised, not without her. Never without her.

A call of her name reached her distantly and Kagome instinctively knew it was Inuyasha but she didn’t care and she touched Sesshoumaru’s face again, wrapping her other arm around his body more tightly. She shoved her face against his neck, wishing he were warm and would tell her to stop being so clingy or return the embrace or wipe the trail of tears off her face. But he was still, and Kagome’s sobs grew harsher from the knowledge.

Inuyasha was closer now, his aura dancing on her senses like an unwanted mosquito. Go away, she thought, imagining how it would feel if Sesshoumaru were still breathing. More ugly, harsh sobs left her and Inuyasha stopped a ways around her, now in sight of the battlefield and the tall, barren tree under which were Kagome and Sesshoumaru.

Inuyasha sniffed angrily at the sight of his half-brother, but froze at the death overwhelming his brother’s scent. Shit, he stared at Kagome, seeing her shoulders shake even from so far away. He approached slowly, making no noise, watching Kagome’s hunched back with a pained expression. “Kagome…” He muttered, taking a couple more steps towards her. His hand fell to her shoulder and she made no move to indicate she’d noticed. He crouched down, tugging gently at her shoulder. “Kagome, come on.”

Slowly she faced him, unwilling to relinquish her hold but knowing she had to. Her eyes turned to him, heavy and scared and so distressing that Inuyasha was afraid she was broken. But she understood and turned to look once more at Sesshoumaru’s at rest body, placing one last kiss on his lips before she stood, promptly collapsing into Inuyasha’s arms. The wind blew again, and Inuyasha glared at the corpse of the taiyoukai. When I die, I’m kicking your ass for putting her through this.

The first star twinkled above them as the sky darkened and Inuyasha sighed. Miroku and Sango would be there soon, he knew Kaede had contacted them after his departure. Sango would know how to properly take care of Sesshoumaru’s body.

The hanyou drew Kagome’s shaking form closer to him, leading her away slowly, supporting her and ignoring the tiny, miniscule amount of gloom he felt towards the death of his older half-brother.

Kagome, her mind numb and a rock settling in her heart, followed listlessly, unable to resist one last look back.