To Die in Memories by Amadoni

Chapter One: Bittersweet Ending

We won. Of course, history already said that we won. Or the future of today would not have existed. Naraku, spawned from the blending of Onigumo with lesser demons, a thief who gave both body and soul for power, did seek that power and the destruction that followed. Yet, we defeated him.

But how did Naraku die? Simply put, Kikyo, the powerful priestess that I was a reincarnation from, released my powers, and I killed Naraku. But there was a price. A horrible, terrible price. The Shikon jewel always had a price. That was its very nature.

I used to think that the Jewel represented the balance of good and evil, light and darkness, life and death. If that were true, why did it curse everyone who had a part in it? First Midoriko's tragic end that resulted in a standstill and creation of the Shikon-no-Tama, then came the tragic love story of Kikyo and Inuyasha...Inuyasha.

It's been over 7 years since I released him from the God Tree. It's true what they say about first love, puppy love, you always remember; you never forget. You never forget. Even after they're dead.

Inuyasha was hanyō, a half-yōkai, half-human offspring of the Great Inu-no-Taisho, one of the most powerful yōkai that Japan had ever known. He was crude, rash, foul-mouthed, short-tempered, and he always protected me. Well, almost always.

In the feudal era, as Kaede, the village miko put it to me, "yōkais and humans do not mix, and if they did, it would certainly end badly, child." "Humans and yokais belong to different worlds!!" was the mantra of most mikos and priests.

I never followed that rule. Inuyasha simply was Inuyasha, the boy with puppy ears, white hair, and warm, amber eyes, who could run so fast you only saw flashes of red from his fire rat robe From the first time I saw him, I was in awe until he opened his mouth.

Before my fifteenth birthday, I never really believed in my grandfather 's superstitions on yōkais, magic, and fate. But fate brought Inuyasha and me together, and fate tore us apart.

No, Inuyasha did not choose Kikyo, but he did not choose me. You might ask who he was really in love with then-- Kikyo his first love, or Kagome the reincarnation of Kikyo who was NOT Kikyo. He loved both, because he loved the soul that both Kikyo and I carried. In a sense he loved the same thing.

But love is a strange thing. For me, love would always come easy. For a hanyo like Inuyasha, love is not easy. Hanyo are reviled outcasts belonging neither to yokai nor to human worlds. Loneliness and fear are feelings they are well acquainted with, not love. So, love never comes easy for them.

Luckily, for Inuyasha, his mother showed him love, unconditional love. At least, he would know how to love.

But I don't want to think about Inuyasha right now, yes, I love him; I would have died for him. But after three years of going back and forth between the feudal era and my own time, I grew up; he didn't. My love changed.

I wasn't the naïve fifteen year old who fell into an old, musty well, but an eighteen year old who saw too much. Too much death, too much suffering, too much loss, especially when it involved the Shikon jewel.

Even now I wonder, if the jewel was a curse, was I a curse too since it came from my body? Midoriko, Inuyasha, Kikyo, Kohaku, Shippo, Koga, Naraku, Rin. A curse cares little if you are yokai or human, saint or devil, young or old. And that cursed jewel was no exception.

I once promised Inuyasha that I would always be by his side. I never broke that promise. After all, I watched him die. By this time Tessaiga and Tenseiga had formed into a single, powerful weapon. However, with no sword of life, there was no way to save him. Not even my miko powers could heal his wounds. I never felt so helpless.

I wasn't the only one who watched him die though. Sesshoumaru was there too. No, the brothers still did not accept one another. Sesshoumaru prided himself in his pure Inu bloodline; however, Inuyasha's presence was proof contrary to that.

Eventually, they did hold a type of respect for each other in their own ways. Sesshoumaru spoke little about why he stopped his quest for Tessaiga, or why he no longer actively tried to kill Inuyasha.

"Kagome, you gotta... get ... outta here...NOW!!" Inuyasha was starting to tremble from all the blood loss. My miko powers had no effect on his wounds. There was so much blood.

"No I won't I promised to be with you; I'm not leaving!!" And that was the truth. I would not leave. I would gladly die in his place at that moment. I accepted that we wouldn't be together the way I thought. I just didn't see him like that. He was family. No, stronger than blood, he was the companion to my soul.

"Sesshoumaru...." He's struggling to breathe.

"What about him?" It was then that I sensed the familiar aura of his, half-brother, Sesshoumaru.

"Inuyasha, you cannot even allow this Sesshoumaru the honor of killing you myself but instead let that filth, Naraku, kill you." He said such condescending words but there was no emotion behind them. No clue if he was really meaning them. But Inuyasha would have none of it.

"Fuck...you, ya bastard!" More blood spewed from his mouth and wounds. On instinct, I shield my body over him.

"Don't touch him!!" I screamed, starring Sesshoumaru straight in his eyes. I was too concerned for Inuyasha to be afraid. He responded with his own sharp gaze,

"The damage is already done. It would serve neither purpose nor honor to strike him now. Miko, you will leave for a moment. This Sesshoumaru wishes to speak with his brother."

"No, I'm staying with him. I don't care what you say, Sesshoumaru. Inuyasha is--"

"Kagome..." Inuyasha gave me a look so serious that I wondered were the boy I knew went. But I got the message.

I walked far enough away to give them some privacy. I couldn't hear what they said, but whatever it was Sesshoumaru gave a nod of agreement. He then looked at me and motioned to come back. I followed.

By this time, Inuyasha's wounds were so bad he barely made any sense at all. He simply put my hand into Sesshoumaru's and slipped away. I was so shocked and confuse by the intended meaning behind this gesture that it took me a few moments before I even realized that Inuyasha was no more.

Inuyasha, you died protecting me, I thought.

I've seen too much. But apparently not enough. In that moment, I felt like I knew nothing. I was fifteen all over again. I was innocent, naïve all over again. But this time Inuyasha was different. He wasn't the crude, rash, foul-mouthed, short-tempered hanyo that I loved. He couldn't protect me, because he was no more.

I cried. I screamed so loudly that it echoed throughout the clearing and caused flocks of birds to fly away from the anguish of my sorrow. Soulless eyes, lifeless hands, no breathing or a cursing voice. I couldn't believe what my eyes saw, my hands felt, my ears heard. It made no sense, why did I always assume that he wouldn't die. I never said the words. I simply acted like it was so.

So, this is what it's like to be torn into pieces from within and still be alive. This is what it feels to feel so much that you begin to feel nothing. Is dying truly any different?

"Humans and yōkais live in different worlds." That's not true. We walked the same world. Ate the same food. Had the same goals.

"Yokais and humans do not mix, and if they did, it would certainly end badly, child." Why, why must it? Was he really so different from me?

Their words began to echo through my mind. I clutched my head and shook it furiously to ward their words away. At that moment, I believed in only two worlds. The world of the living and the world of the dead. Here, death had its sting and its victory, and it was too much. So, I ran.

oOo

Author's Note: Revised by my beta, Theresa aka be a good boy sess.