By CinnamonGrrl
The battle
wasn’t looking good. This puppet of Naraku’s was his biggest, strongest yet,
and they’d all sustained injuries. As Inuyasha was flung once more against the
base of the rock cliff by the many-tentacled monster, Sango felt the despair
she’d kept at bay all day start to overpower her.
It had
been nearly a week since their kiss, a week since they’d had any time alone
together, a week since she’d been reliving it in her dreams only to jolt awake
with empty arms and a burning heart. She would look, at those times, across
their little camp to Inuyasha and find him watching her, and their gazes would
lock for a long moment, until she forced herself to close her eyes and try to
put him out of her head. But the sight of golden eyes, glowing in the darkness,
was not easy to forget…
Sango was
relatively sure she was in love with him, now. How could it be otherwise, when
she could see nothing but him, hear nothing but him, think of nothing but him?
His temper was no sweeter than hers in the intervening days, but when he yelled
at her, she could only smile, for it seemed to her that “stupid girl” was his
way of saying “sweetheart”, and “idiot” was just another word for “darling”.
Yes, it
had to be love, because how could she feel so tender toward him when he acted
like such a jerk so much? She saw all the nasty, dark, ugly bits of him and
still, he filled her head and heart until she thought they might burst. It had
begun to feel like a fever, and matters were not at all helped by the way he
would watch her when the others slept, when it was just the two of them awake,
awake but not daring to speak.
And so,
they had gone into battle with Naraku’s latest puppet, not having spoken of
their kiss or the feelings burdening their hearts. And now there might never be
the chance, Sango feared, as something in Inuyasha’s body cracked from the
force of being flung hard, repeatedly, against solid rock.
She’d
flung Hiraikotsu many times, so many times her arms ached, with little damage
to show for it—the puppet’s possessed body simply healed immediately. With so
many of the demonic insects around, Miroku’s Kazaana was useless, and Kagome’s
purifying arrows were being deflected and destroyed before they were even
halfway to their targets.
It was
beginning to look truly hopeless. Blood trickled slowly down Inuyasha’s chin,
and his left arm was wrapped tightly around his waist as he struggled to leap
and wield Tetsusaiga against the puppet. Desperately, Sango scrutinized their
foe, searching for some way to defeat it.
“Kagome,”
she whispered, “where is its shard?”
“Third
tentacle to the right,” the girl answered, taking aim with her bow once more.
“Why?”
“We all
need to attack at once,” Sango replied, her conviction a little stronger with
each word. “All of you—Kagome, Miroku, even Shippo—attack from the front with
Inuyasha. Keep it distracted. I’ll sneak in the side on Kirara and try to cut
the shard out. If I can, Inuyasha can kill it with Tetsusaiga.”
Wide-eyed,
Kagome and Shippo agreed, but Miroku protested. “It’s too dangerous,” he said.
“You could get killed.”
“Inuyasha
is nearly dead as it is,” Sango snapped back. “And if he dies, the rest of us
will follow shortly. If I die, at least he will survive. That’s what matters.”
Too late,
she realized her slip. Miroku’s eyes sharpened. “He’ll make it, that’s what
matters?” He huffed out a breath. “Now I know why you’ve been so resistant—“
Sango felt
like screaming. “No, you moron,” she snapped. “I was unattracted to you not
because I’m in love with Inuyasha, but because you’re a rude echhi with
undisciplined hands.”
“You’re…
in love with Inuyasha?” Kagome breathed, her mouth and eyes round with shock.
“Sango, is this true?”
Sango felt
like the world was shrinking to a pinprick, and forced herself to breathe
deeply so she didn’t faint. This was the worst possible time for everyone to
find out, and meanwhile Inuyasha was getting killed out there…
“There’s
no time to discuss it,” she said. “Are you with me, or not? Because either way,
I’m going in.”
Kagome
blinked, but nodded firmly. “Yes, I’m in.”
“Me too!” Shippo
chimed, and Miroku nodded as well, but slowly, his gaze never wavering from her
face.
Sango
dropped her trusty Hiraikotsu on the ground and drew her short hacking blades.
Taking a deep breath, she tensed her legs to leap. “I’m sorry,” she murmured to
Miroku, because it looked like he really was hurt and disappointed. Then she jumped
onto Kirara and took off, and the others were cued to action.
All at
once, the puppet was barraged with purifying arrows, disorienting illusions,
and most fearful of all, the powerful wind-tunnel of Miroku’s Kazaana as he
used it in short bursts, hoping to avoid the bulk of the insects. Inuyasha
picked himself up from where he’d been flung once more and shook his head to
try and clear it, because he was positive he couldn’t be seeing what he thought
he was seeing.
Kagome,
Miroku, and even Shippo were throwing everything they had at the puppet, and it
had its tentacles full combating them. And there, to the side, Kirara was
weaving through the long brown arms with a black-clad figure on her back.
Glints of silver flashed in the sun, and he realized that Sango was chopping
frantically at one of the tentacles.
One of
Kagome’s arrows sliced a tentacle off; on its way back to reattach itself, it
flew by Sango and smashed right into her, knocking her off Kirara’s back.
Inuyasha felt, more than heard, himself scream her name before she reached out
with one dagger and sank it deeply into a tentacle, halting her downward
progress with a jolt as the blade found purchase in the pulpy flesh.
Kirara was
soon there to take her up toward their goal once more, and then Sango was
hacking again at the same spot. And still the others fought on. Inuyasha shook
himself from his stupor and charged the puppet. He didn’t know what Sango was
doing, but he was damned well going to help distract the puppet from it if he
could.
Flinging
himself into the fray, he slashed and cut until he thought his arm would fall
off. Every breath was a fiery hell, and he knew he’d broken most of his ribs.
But if Sango could fight on, so would he… she’d said he was strong, and brave,
and he wouldn’t let her down, not if it killed him.
A cry of
triumph drew his attention, and he dared a glance in her direction: she pumped
her fist in the air. But before Kirara could fly her to safety, the puppet
jolted in pain and rage and lashed at her with every tentacle it had. Her sound
of joy turned into one of pain and shock as she and Kirara were brutally
slammed to the ground. Then the tide of writhing brown arms slithered away, but
Sango and the fire-cat did not move again.
“Sango…”
Inuyasha moaned, torn between leaping to her side and destroying the puppet.
Then he saw the faint glow in Sango’s hand that told him she’d gotten its
shard; killing it was a mere formality now, so with one long sweep of
Tetsusaiga, he sliced it down the middle. But he had no time to watch in
satisfaction as it shuddered its last; he dropped the sword and bolted to
Sango’s side. Face-down and half-covered by Kirara, he moved the cat and gently
rolled her over.
She had a
trail of blood trickling down her chin to match his, he saw, and her eyes were
glazed. “Inuyasha,” she said, her voice a mere breath in the wind. “You are
safe. Good.”
“You
idiot,” he gasped as pain lanced through him when he held her more closely to
him.
Inexplicably,
she smiled, her teeth streaked with blood from her split lip. “Moron,” she said
back to him, her voice tender, and passed out.
Inuyasha
thought hard; injured, he’d not be able to go as fast as normal. It would take
him twice as long to get back to Kaede’s village so the old miko could heal
Sango. Two hours... he could endure the pain for two hours. Scooping her
gingerly into his embrace, he tersely told his companions his destination and
only winced a little as he leapt into the air.