Words: 300

Prompt: Echo

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, Inuyasha. The characters and the property of Rumiko Takahashi, and I am making no money from this story.

Notes: Originally written on 26 Jan 2009 for the weekly perfection prompt 'echo' at dokuga_contest on LJ. 'In Memoriam' means 'in memory' in Latin, and the title of this collection, 'Vitalis Memoria' means 'living memory' (also in Latin).


She rested her fingers on the dispassionate kanji carved into the small metal plaque that was the only decoration on the otherwise unadorned case. It was tucked away, amid dozens of other swords, its power as unassuming as it had been when she'd first seen it strapped to his hip.

But there was no denying it.

Tenseiga; Fang of Heaven, c. 1500, read the small label dispassionately. It said nothing of the one whose fang had been used to create it, nor the one who had borne it all those years ago.

She spread her fingers against the cool glass, pressing her palm to it as if trying to touch the sword could feel its pull, almost magnetic, as it stirred.

Her eyes widened and she gasped, stepping back in alarm.

It can't be, her mind insisted, but it's almost as if it... knows me.

As if in answer she felt a thrum of power from the sword, and she felt her own miko powers respond. She closed her eyes allowing Tenseiga's healing aura to wash over her. She felt it run over her skin, tingling slightly as it invigorated her.

She heard a low growl and her eyes snapped open. "Sesshoumaru-sama?" she asked softly, her voice echoing in the quiet room.

She sighed, uncertain why she was so disappointed. After all, she didn't really want to see him after all this time, did she? Certainly not him of all people.

Still, she couldn't deny that his presence still lingered in Tenseiga -- and Tenseiga had inexplicably reached out to her. It was bizarrely comforting.

"Are you coming, Kagome?" Yuka yelled from across the gallery, shattering the silence abruptly.

"Yes," she replied softly, tearing herself away from the sword regretfully. "Goodbye, Sesshoumaru-sama," she said gently.