Disclaimer – I don’t own Inuyasha, any of the canon characters, situations or settings. I’m just borrowing. Don’t sue.

Last Chapter Pt II

The Grand Master stood with his back to the cliff, a knife to Rin’s throat, his smile a death’s-head rictus.

“Sesshoumaru-sama!” the girl cried, her voice high and desperately relieved, her familiar scent almost overwhelmed by the mystic’s fear-sweat and the wave of foul, black power that leaked from his very pores.

“Don’t come any closer, Sesshoumaru!” the Grand Master taunted. “Not unless you want this entire quest to be in vain.” Cackling madly, he gripped Rin tighter around the waist, deliberately nicked her throat with the razor-sharp knife.

The metallic copper scent of her blood stained the air.

Sesshoumaru stood at bay before him, snarling, his fists clenched in absolute, blind rage. Her fear and pain maddened him; the sight of her struggling to pull away from the knife provoked his vicious, animal instincts.

“Sesshoumaru-sama!”she screamed again, crying, calling, calling to him –

Inuyasha tackled him to the ground before he blindly charged forward, every nerve and sinew of his body straining to answer her call. Snarling, he turned on his younger brother, struggling desperately to free himself, but Inuyasha was too heavy, too strong. Just as before, he found himself pinned underneath the hanyou, gasping for breath, his hands scrabbling desperately at the black earth.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” Inuyasha snarled. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

The bastard mystic howled with derisive laughter. “The great Sesshoumaru, brought to his senses by his hanyou brother! That’s right! If you kill me, fool, you’ll spend the rest of your life as you are, trapped in that form. You will never regain your lost power!”

Inuyasha swore angrily. Sesshoumaru, looking into the swirling black mist, knew a moment of doubt, a memory of that terrible night when he had stood, paralysed, and felt the bonds of the mystics’ spell entrapping him, restraining him –

What did Totosai know, the old, senile fool?

But then the mystic made his last, terrible mistake. Leering, he dragged the tip of the knife down Rin’s cheek, his eyes firmly fixed on Sesshoumaru’s. “Hmmm,” he crooned, licking at the blood, “when your master is dead, little girl, I think I’ll keep you.”

“Sesshoumaru-sama!!” she shrieked, kicking and squirming desperately, lost in animal terror and pain.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes flashed red. Breathing very deeply, every muscle slowly tensing, clenching, he fixed his entire focus on Rin, her blood-stained kimono, her eyes great wells of terror and absolute faith.

“Inuyasha,” he growled, guttural, deep in his throat. “Let me go.”

“No way!” Inuyasha shook his head. “You heard what he said; you don’t know what’ll –”

“It is my chance to take.”

There was a moment of silence. And then, slowly, Inuyasha released his grip. Sesshoumaru could feel him step back, standing behind him, his hand playing nervously over Tetsusaiga. But this was not his fight. Slowly, Sesshoumaru stood, a glowing white figure, fierce and proud, his eyes blood-red and absolutely feral.

The Grand Master’s eyes went wide with what might have been fear. “Very well, then – you have chosen death,” he pronounced. And he began to chant, sonorously, the words of power rolling off his tongue, striking the air with almost tangible force.

Sesshoumaru could feel them gather around him, coiling and ensnaring, and fought hard against a resurgence of fear. But he gathered his strength, fought against the growing, unnatural sense of weakness and lassitude, and focused all his determination on the Grand Master, cocooned in swirling darkness.

And then, before his strength gave out, he attacked –

Charged forward, his whole body coiled, his breath burning in his lungs, his heart pounding in his throat, every muscle screaming with effort.

The Grand Master threw his hands out and howled, and the darkness crashed over him like a wave, fear and despair and soul-numbing cold tearing at his strength, his courage. Sesshoumaru would have faltered, then, had he not heard her voice spurring him on, calling him –

At the last, there was only one thought in his mind, in his heart.

Rin!

He reached the heart of the darkness, and tore the Grand Master’s throat out with his bare claws.

The foul chanting cut off abruptly, and the enveloping darkness suddenly howled and shrieked, roiling and convulsing madly. Out of nowhere a strong sea wind began to blow, dispersing the stifling mists. But then, as the air cleared, Sesshoumaru could see the mystic was laughing madly, choking on his own blood; as he looked on in horror, the Grand Master staggered, and then, in his last, vindictive act, hurled himself backwards, over the cliff.

Sesshoumaru dived, his right hand reaching out to grab Rin’s screaming, flailing body before the mystic’s limp weight carried her over the edge. He caught her, his claws tangling in her kimono, but he, too, began to slide over the edge –

Scrabbling desperately, he dug his left hand into the cliff, anchoring himself, holding Rin, fragile and sobbing, tightly to his chest.

“Hush,” he murmured. “It is over, now. Stop crying, Rin.”

And then the transformation began. It was agonising, excruciating pain, his bones cracking and snapping, his muscles stretching, his nerves and sinews lengthening as his whole body convulsed and reformed, the mystics’ enchantments undone all at once to return him to his full, glorious size and strength.

His right arm vanished.

Shocked, unthinking, he let go his hold on the cliff to grab hold of Rin, and then he was falling, falling, the clouds and the great dark expanse of the sea below him –

Inuyasha, crouching on the edge of the cliff, reached down and grabbed him by his collar. Swearing, struggling with his footing, Inuyasha fought to hold on to the solid, heavy weight of a human child and a full-grown inuyoukai, not the slender, fine-boned boy Sesshoumaru had been two minutes and three hundred years ago.

The ground began to crumble underneath him, and Inuyasha threw his head back, straining, the cords on his neck standing out in strong relief. “Come on, you bastard,” he grunted, panting heavily. “Help me!”

Twisting, beyond reason, Rin’s arms clamped tightly around his neck, her panic beating against him, Sesshoumaru fought against Inuyasha’s grip. But the hanyou would not let go. “Damned,” he ground out, “if I’ve followed you all across Japan to let you fall now! Listen to me, Sesshoumaru!”

Slowly, a spark of sanity woke in Sesshoumaru. He looked up to see Inuyasha, his golden eyes angry, worried, and absolutely determined not to let Sesshoumaru and his precious burden go. Breathing deeply, he gathered enough composure to stop fighting, to go limp in Inuyasha’s grip, to trust that his younger brother was strong enough to carry his weight.

There was a moment of perfect understanding.

And then with a great, straining heave, Inuyasha hauled them back over the cliff and onto solid ground.