Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.
Just a quick note: This is in Sango's POV. I tried to make the paragraphs sychronize with the mood in If Only, but it didn't work out too well in certain parts. Enjoy!
I am unsure of how much time has passed.
I have been kneeling by my brother's grave for endless amounts of time.
Houshi-sama has stayed by me every day, but if he has said anything regarding my brother, I cannot recall what it is. In fact, I cannot recall much of anything that was said or done after my little brother died in my arms.
What? I don't need food. I don't need anything. When did I last eat?
I don't know.
Does it even matter anymore?
I cannot feel any hunger pains. My legs are completely stiff from being in the same position for so long. My hands are cold, and so is my body, though I barely notice as I stare unseeingly at the flowers surrounding the grave. Such pretty flowers. Why must they cover Kohaku's grave?
I close my eyes, wanting to deny the truth, wanting to deny it all.
Houshi-sama questions me about something. Although I do not know what he is saying, the sound of his voice brings me back to the edge of reality. For the first time in hours, maybe days, I feel something other than the wind blowing across my face and the cold ground of which I have not moved on, the ground that has the presence of death.
A shard. It cuts into my skin, drawing a thin line of blood which drips steadily to the ground, darkening it. I am aware of it, yet I do not feel it. It calms me, though.
It is the last connection to my little brother, Kohaku.
He died. But he is not completely dead. I have the shard, I can bring him back to life!
... only to watch him be dead again.
Then I can die with him. I can be with him once again. My soul will finally be at peace.
I do not cry. I do not feel, so I cannot cry.
My existence is now meaningless.
Houshi-sama does not need me. No one does. Father and Kohaku died. If I had acted quicker, maybe things wouldn't be the way they are. Because I did not prevent any of it from happening, they suffered.
Because I did nothing. I have nothing to live for.
Houshi-sama is beside me. I do not have to look at him or hear the familiar rustle of his robes; I can sense him. He silently offers me any possible comfort, but it is not enough. Nothing can take away the pain of knowing. Knowing what happened, and knowing things will never change.
Things will never be the same again, and I silently curse myself for allowing it to happen this way.
Finally, after an excruciatingly long moment of silence, I open my eyes. I still keep my gaze averted from the monk, fixed instead at the grave that holds the name of my beloved brother.
I open my mouth, my throat so dry that I can barely speak. I manage a strained whisper.
"I'm at peace, Miroku."