Mutant plot bunnies that were once dust bunnies are responsible for this latest idea (Damn you, mutant plot bunnies!). Anyhow, I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Inuyasha. Enjoy and please review. Thanks go to TitianWren for beta-reading and giving the first opinion and to Kracken l.w. who gave another opinion, support, and arguements.
She fought it every step of the way, fought him. And still he won as she climbed the steps to Central's library, an ancient text clutched in her hands. Still he had her heart. She left the book with the librarians with instructions that it was for Edward Elric the next time he was in. If he was still searching for the Philosopher's Stone, the book just might be of some use.
They couldn't promise. The alchemist wasn't seen at Central much, especially since his commanding officer was located in the East. Besides, he was always traveling, either for the State, or personal business.
She knew how to read between the lines. In other words, personal meant questing for the stone. The next time you see him, then.
But this aroused suspicion. Why was she so interested?
A faint smile ghosted over her lips. She was only trying to be helpful. She'd heard the rumors of the State's youngest alchemist searching for the stone, that was all. As an after thought in passing: she too, was familiar with the high price of mistakes. She didn't give them time to ask more questions; she merely turned and walked away.
That wasn't so bad, a voice cooed in her mind. You did well. Very well.
She felt a deep rumble vibrate in her stomach and through her body, as if he'd pressed his face there and laughed. That amused him, just as this latest deception would undoubtedly do. Get the boy interested in a jewel that could grant a wish and pit him against Inuyasha and his gang. Wouldn't it be grand if the dog demon's sword rendered him into pieces, or if the monk's kaazana sucked them in? Whatever happened, it would serve the core purpose: to keep the half demon busy for a while. Underneath the sickness and misery pounding through her body, she felt desperation. Something had to keep the hanyou busy. The Shichinin-tai had failed. A waste of power and shikon shards.
She didn't know how he would work the well. Didn't care to. He wouldn't tell her, either. That would spoil his fun.
He receded with one last chuckle to the depths of her soul. Did she have a soul? She often wondered about that. He was now asleep; her thoughts were free— until he woke up again, that is. She thought that Inuyasha or Sesshomaru had killed him, but if he still held her then he wasn't dead, obviously. No, not yet, not if the Shichinin-tai had all been killed again. She was hopeful, however.
She glanced at the gray sky that threatened rain and reflected that it had been a clear night when she'd asked Sesshomaru to help her betray Naraku and destroy him. Instead of asking for help, she should have asked him to kill her. Death would be better than this.
It could be arranged.
Her lips compressed into a thin line: he was awake again.
Thunder rumbled warningly as the skies opened up, and rain started to fall softly but grew in strength steadily until it was a downpour. Pushing wet bangs out of her face, she continued walking. She frowned. He didn't understand. She wanted to die not be re-absorbed.
There was no response— wouldn't be one, either. Her misery doubled with the pounding rain. It was 1927 and Kikyo's reincarnation hadn't yet been born. She would be in about sixty more years by her calculations. Math wasn't her strong suit, however. And to top it all off, somehow he had managed to come to her, here, in this time.
I never left you. I live inside you, my daughter—my twin.
So that explained the time difference, or lack of.
She knew that deep down he was afraid of Inuyasha and his group. She ignored his snarl and continued to walk down the sidewalk, longing for her comfortable kimono, rather than the long, straight skirt and severe blouse that she wore. Her fan banged into her back with every step and threatened to fall through the skirt. At least with the kimono she could hide her weapon in the sleeve, she thought, grimacing.
He was afraid, because he was still half human in the worst way possible: his heart. Inuyasha had been born a half demon, unlike Naraku who was created of many demons stuffed into a mortal soul. For as fearsome as he was, he had another fear: losing power and returning to a weak, helpless human, and she knew it. That was why he'd protect her no matter what the cost. He wouldn't let her die if it meant losing her power.
Next time around, she would ask for death. Because she knew the high price of mistakes, too.