Might as Well

150 words.


It was odd, how lucky they were. As a team, that is. They had each withstood amazing and usually fatal amounts of poison, they had each fought through excruciating physical pain. It was like they were immortal, they were so strong.

Apparently not. He had gotten cocky. He had thought that since he survived before, he would survive again. Was he ever wrong…

He winced as the toxins spread new waves of agony through his body. But the pain subsided and he smiled at them. They looked over him, concern on their faces. He had withstood the Saimyoushou in the past, maybe he'd pull through this time…

But he felt the messengers from the underworld coming closer. Unless Sesshoumaru-sama was nearby and in a good mood, he was a dead man.

Well, if you're gonna die, you might as well go down groping. He was glad he had two hands.