Inuyasha Vengeance

**Vengeance **

By Ayrith

* * *

She stared down at him with hollow eyes, watching his sweaty and bloodstained, but strangely beautiful face. His own eyes were slightly parted, heavy with fatigue as he stared off blankly in front of him, almost afraid to even breathe. Against the delicate of his throat his attacker held a glinting sharp blade, pressing it just enough so that he would feel the pressure of its biting edge against his skin. Normally, it would have sliced the flimsy soft flesh of a human, but because he wasn't human, it left him only with the warning that if he moved even the slightest, his life would end in an instant.

He should have been afraid. Should have. But instead, he just felt tired. So tired he didn't realize that even though he had won his battle and yet was about to die, he wasn't at all surprised.

Because somehow, he had known it would come to this. It was his perfect ending, their perfect ending; the perfect conclusion to their dark fairytale. Yes, it was a fairytale, one of love and betrayal and trust, but even more so of hatred and bitterness. And so it was only natural that such a fairytale would have just an equally bitter ending, one that matched the equally bitter beginning.

It was only natural, that all their dreams -- all his dreams -- would be broken and destroyed in a mere instant, hour, battle, day.

Because of course he had dreamed. Just like the rest of them. Dreamed of a fairytale with a happy ending, where the good triumphed over evil and lived a happy ever after. Everyone had expected it. All of them had believed in it. All of them had hoped and wished and prayed that those precious dreams would come true, because that had really been all that had kept them going. So many things depended on that happy ending. So many of his friends dreams. Even his own dreams. He…he had wanted to have a future, with Kagome. He had wanted to have a family, to be part of a family, to _live._

Which is why it hurt so much now. Because he had allowed his heart to ache for those things, allowed himself the selfish pleasure to dream of finding his own happily ever after. Because he had allowed himself to fall back on false comfort and hope.

Because even though he had pushed it the farthest from his mind, he had known even then; that his precious dreams would always be just dreams.

He had been terrified. Terrified to let the reality of it all sink in. And in a way, it was a fault of his; he had never once given into the part of him who knew the sadistic, utter truth. He had always been afraid to realize when things were hopeless, when he was weaker or out numbered or a fool to believe in his petty excuses of revenge. He had always lied, told himself he would beat all his enemies because he was stronger then they were.

He hated the truth because it was the truth that told him he wasn't.

Just as it had been the truth to tell him that Kikyou was still out there and he couldn't give himself to Kagome. Just as it had been the truth to tell him that he didn't deserve happiness, because he was filthy and sinful and unworthy and a hanyou. Just as it had been the truth to tell him that if he led all of the people he cared for onto the final battle field, he would be leading them to their demise.

And the truth, no matter how bitter, was always the truth.

Kikyou was still a part of him. He was still unworthy.

And they _had _died.

And as he looked up, staring into empty eyes filled with only morbid curiosity, all he could see was the bitter, dark truth of his inner most feelings, his emotions, his heart.

And he would suffer the rest of his life because of it.

She moved from above him, her stark white hair silky against his cheek and with a struggle, he forced his eyes open. Her white pale face, so contrasting to the dark miasmic shouki that clung to the air, hovered above his prostrate form like death itself. Dark eyes, child like grace and beauty, it was like she had come to take him from the hell he had lived since the day he had been born.

Realistically, she was a youkai who had the power to only take lives. In his mind, all he saw was an angel of death.

His body burned fiery hot and icy cold. He was steeped in his very own blood, soaked to the bone. The pain was immeasurable, ferocious, almost physically impossible. And the smell, the repugnant, disgusting, revolting smell of death and decay and a specific scent of spring that would always remain Kagome's. It swallowed him, tore at his senses, ate him up inside with a primal ferocity because he had not been able to stop it. Because he had been too weak, he had failed her again, he had not been strong enough to save her life. The pounding at his head increased, wanting to be healed, but he held everything back. He did not have the will to heal, could not even dream of living on without her and all…alone. His eyes blurred, a picture of a bright smile and sparkling eyes swam into his vision, and he waited. Waited for the damn white girl above him to come to her senses and sink that cool, thick blade into his throat. He waited, waited, tried to tell the stupid child what he most wanted to say.

He wanted to die, wanted to beg, but the words couldn't come out.

' _Mercy__? I have plenty of mercy. When I hurt you and torture you and make you wish for death, beg for it on your hands and knee's, you'll see it. " Naraku had sneered. His crimson eyes flashed darkly, his black hair rippling around his pale face. " Because_ then_ I might have the mercy to slaughter you."_

He wanted to cry. Because it was ironic that even though the damn youkai had died and the battle was over, Naraku's promise still rang of that ugly, bitter truth. Because even in death, Naraku would still have the last laugh. Because the measly group of ragtag humans and youkai were dead and the only remaining survivor was at the meek hands of a nothingness incarnation with the mark of a spider burned darkly on her pale back. He wanted to cry, wanted to laugh cynically at the truth of his life, but instead choked on the blood that was pooling in the back of his throat, forcing him to swallow.

As Inuyasha gasped for breath, bitterly he wondered if he should just drown himself in his own blood and be done with it.

Above his drained form, she watched him, her face mostly unreadable save for her curiosity. What was so interesting about him, he had no idea. And really, if it had anything other to do with then his death, he didn't want a part of it, didn't want to know what it was.

He just wanted to die.

"Inuyasha…" Her voice was soft and smooth, velvet against his sensitive ears. She spoke the name almost intimately, as though the name had been spoken before and often. "Inuyasha…" Carefully, she scraped the blade against his skin from the juncture of his neck to the pulse beating wildly beneath his chin. Her fingers danced across his paling skin, feather light touches of gossamer. She stared into his amber gaze, flicking between the bleak, beaten look on his face and the death in his eyes.

She seemed to decide something. "This look does not suit you. This look of wanting death." She whispered, motioning with a wave of her small delicate hand at the expression of utter defeat and hopelessness on his pretty face. Her finger traced the contour of his cheek, the sleek of his chin. "Aren't you happy that you won?" It was almost like she was a child, a simple minded child who knew nothing of the real world, and it left Inuyasha feeling even more miserable, more angry. Because this child knew nothing except the art of death.

He was almost too tired to be angry. Almost.

"Of course I'm not happy. Everything is gone." He spat, his eyes filled with only a mirage of the vigor and spirit he had once possessed. Now he was simply bitter and angry, but not angry enough to live. Because revenge had once been his fortress, his pillar of strength when there was no one but himself to rely on. But how could he avenge his comrades when there was no one to extract that revenge on? Naraku was dead, Kagura was dead. Who was he going to kill? This pale, child girl? This girl who knew nothing because she was nothing?

It would be pointless.

Kanna tilted her head to the side, her blank eyes penetrating and all seeing. Slowly, he watched as she reached behind her, reached for something smooth and silver and wrought with cracks…

She pulled her broken mirror in front of her, running her free hand over the jagged but smooth glass with a sense of familiarity. Her face was so soft and yet so cold. "Everything is gone…" She whispered, repeating what he had said. "Everything is gone…gone…gone…" Inuyasha watched her, in an almost morbidly curious way, his delicate throat still bared. His eyes had begun to blur, to wane, for he did not have the will to heal, the will to live on. But he watched her curiously, because that was all he could do.

Suddenly, the pressure against his neck subsided and he heard the sound of the blade slip through her fingers. Part of him began to panic, because she was supposed to _kill him, _but he could not move to do anything about it. And suddenly, she was looming in front of him, so close that he could feel her faint breath against his mouth and nose. Her small hand pressed lightly against his chest, right above his heart, and for a moment, he saw Kikyou looking down on him, her pale face twisted with… pity perhaps? Sympathy? Then the moment was gone and it was Kanna once again, and he stiffened underneath her touch.

"Everything is not gone…" she whispered. "There is still nothing." She said it as though nothing were a living, breathing thing, as though it too was part of life. It took him a moment to realize that she was talking about herself. Her voice, which had been soft and breathy, grew bolder and firm. "Nothing will be everything…" It grew hesitant again. "…for you."

For a moment, a brief second, Inuyasha was sure that she knew nothing of what she was saying. Because no one was fool enough to let his vengeance destroy them. No one was fool enough. But she was silent and patient and waiting for his answer.

He became angry. His eyes suddenly lit with an intense burning light, furious and wild and livid. What was she plotting? What was she thinking? Or was she just _stupid_?

He pulled jerkily up, filled with enraged adrenaline, and his claws sunk deeply into the pale of her thigh. She did not so much as flinch as he began to shout, spit at her. "What is _wrong _with you!?!?! What are you, some sick bitch?!?!" He snarled, his rage and anger and _frustration _rising every second she just sat there, his spit dripping from her pale face. She was _stupid. _She was a _fool_. She—

She kissed him then.

He froze instantly as her pale lips pressed against his chastely, too shocked to move as her hands lightly cupped his face. He stiffened, unable to think, and then for a moment, he saw Kagome's face, flushed and bright with her eyelids fluttered shut as she kissed him sweetly. And he sat there, unable to breath, until the image disappeared and it was Kanna again and he was staring into her open dark eyes. Seeing nothing but swirls of darkness pluming in her gaze, seeing nothing but curiosity and emptiness and cold.

No. It wasn't a kiss. It was a press of mouth against mouth. A sealing of a deal. It was hollow and empty and nothing at all warm and comforting, even as it left a searing cold on his lips that he wanted to rub and rub and tear off at. Tear off and shake off and find that warmth that he had somehow lost and…

And that's when his eyes landed on the hints of something small and spherically purple peeking out from her other hand, and he forgot everything else but the dawning realization beginning to spread its talons inside him.

This was not going to end here.

His eyes drifted to the side, following her pale hand as she moved it from his face to pick up her blade. He watched, unmoving as she brought it up skillfully and stabbed it painfully into his side. And the anger came back, more livid and angry and wild then ever before, but he knew that was what she had expected, had wanted. So when he fell back onto the ground, his dark reddening eyes fluttering at the additional pain, he watched her stand up and turn to walk away. He watched as she faded wisp-like into the dark miasmic mist and then watched as a mirage of black hair and two familiar pairs of blue and brown eyes gazed at him through the darkness in mockery.

And he decided.

Kanna was going to die.

Was going to die by the claws that were already drenched in her blood.

Because the girl hadn't changed anything, hadn't done anything, but she had reminded him of his duty. His duty to silky hair and imploring eyes and a bittersweet love he had lost not once but twice. He wasn't going to believe anymore, but he would believe this once in his vengeance for _them. _Because they at least deserved _that_.

Inuyasha's lip curled, his eyes glowing a reddish tinted auburn.

…that damn white girl…whatever she was thinking, well…she wasn't going to escape him the next time.

Alive anyway.

* * *

**AN:** Before anyone asks, no Kanna does not like Inuyasha _that way_. I just feel that alone, Kanna would really be nothing. No purpose. For this fic, Inuyasha is the only thing she knows that is still _alive. _And, besides, with our faithful hanyou out to kill her, Kanna will _never_ be alone. 

She'll be dead.

-.- Okay, okay, screwed logic. Kanna's motives are confusing, I know. Lets just say its just a drabble, so don't worry about all the details, alright? (man, thats going to be bugging me for weeks. I left a fic without giving an explanation!! Crap...)

Moving on…this fic was a bugger cause it didn't come out like I had planned. The ending is pretty much the same though. I was going for a more realistic ending, but…I dunno, you tell me?


End file.
