Chapter Text
It was the final battle between them and Naraku.
It was a gruesome battle, one that lasted hours. But they persevered. The good side won.
It was she, the great priestess from the future, who shot her final arrow straight into the enemy’s chest. It was he, the great Lord of the Western Lands, who sliced through the neck of the foe and heard the rest of the body slam into the ground behind him.
Then, it was silent.
All that was heard after was heavy breathing from the team, those who silently cried victory when they realized what had happened.
He, the Lord of the Western Lands, turned around, sheathing his bloody sword in the process. He was caked in the blood, but he cared not. The fight was over.
Until she, the great priestess from the future, fell to the ground.
He did not realize her wound was mortal halfway through the battle, when Naraku first struck her down with his limbs. It was quick, and he was not quick enough to save her.
He rushed to her side and knelt in her blood. Her breathing was getting quicker and quicker as the sun began to set; those around whispered their disbelief and told her to hold on. “It’s alright,” she whispered—to him? He believed so.
“You will live,” he whispered back, “I will make sure of it.”
She smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered, “it is enough.”
“Kagome.”
“It’s alright, Sesshomaru.”
She closed her eyes.
“It’s alright.”
Moments later, she was gone. Minutes later, he would stare at the blood in his palms as the cries grew louder around him.
Would he call the battle a victory? And if so, what did they, or he, win?
He bowed his head; he admitted defeat.