Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

Warning: Spoilers for manga ch. 374

Memories of the Heart

There was a single moment—just one—when Kagura could feel her heart pounding inside her, resonating to the very edge of her fingertips, before Naraku tore it from her body as swiftly and silently as the spider bites the fly.

Without her heart, she had no freedom. And without her freedom, what was she other than a mere extension of Naraku, his servant, his vassal, his slave? She had power—but it was not truly her power; not when she had to use it for Naraku's bidding.

All the rhythms of the wind were known to her—a part of her. But the rhythms of the heart she could not remember.

She wanted to remember, but couldn't.

So she followed him, because when he was near her she realized that this must be what it feels like to have a heart. To recognize the simple beauty of a heartbeat, the singular grace of its steady repetition. A heartbeat is a constant, comforting presence—it lets you know you are alive—and when Sesshomaru was nearby, Kagura felt alive, even if she was not free.

And so, at the end, when Kagura lay dying, her newly-returned heart torn apart by her damned creator, she smiled, knowing Sesshomaru looked down on her . . .

There was a single moment—just one—when Sesshomaru could feel his heart trembling inside him, resonating to the very depths of his soul, before Kagura's body evaporated as softly and somberly as dust in the wind.

He wanted to forget, but couldn't.