JUSTICE

What would you do to ensure justice? You know full well I don’t speak of lofty ideals and courts and magistrates, dearest. What would you do to those that hurt you? If I dropped them in your lap, what would you do? What kind of pain could you possibly inflict upon them? You are right to do so. You are right to want to do so. Ignore the screaming, dearest, you are the hand of justice now, and they hurt you. Do not look too closely at their faces, dearest. You are within your rights. You spell out your own rights, now. Are you happy about it? Are you certain that this is the right person you hold by the hair? Does your anger hurt less now?

&&BONUS: ASAHI VERS.

The Hermit

It’s a skill, to look inside yourself, one you have mastered. The endless corridors and shifting thoughts are mapped so very carefully. This all takes time, of course. And those twisting hallways are so very difficult to map. It would be so easy to get lost. You know this space so well. Wouldn’t it be a lovely place to stay? So well-known and comforting. Why go back? How nice, how easy, to dissolve, to hide from the rest of the world and all the people in it. Why bother, when you are so good at looking inside yourself. Like enlightenment, the self. Retreating this far inwards is like retreating just as far out, into the vast ether. So comforting. The thing that was you looks at the thing that was the old woman. There is no you anymore. Goodbye.

tagged by: N/A

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It had been half a year -- six whole months -- since Inuyasha had left on his own journey, to better understand Tessaiga ; to better increase his own abilities and prowess. He had run across many faces, many places, in those journeys, and made many lifelong friends that he’d never forget. Had changed; his hair was longer now, pulled back into a high ponytail constantly; he was a bit taller; shoulders somewhat broader; face a bit more defined.

He had been headed back to his core group, intent on reuniting with them at long, long last ( it’d felt so much longer than six months, but Inuyasha supposed he’d gone through plenty of different situations with all kinds of people ). His ears twitched, a scent pulled into his nostrils; blood, but also, the smell of a rather strong demon. Inuyasha’s pupils shrank in concern, worry, some anger; that scar along his chest ached briefly before he rushed towards that sensation of fighting and blood.

Inuyasha leapt out from the nearby trees, that noise of battle louder to his ears; Sango, Miroku, Kagome, Shippou too -- they were all fighting, or maybe running, run-fighting, from Kazama. That blonde haired full demonic bastard that’d nearly killed Inuyasha in their first encounter, and had seemed hell-bent on --- somethin, Inuyasha still didn’t get what.

All that mattered now? Now, Kazama was trying to harm his FAMILY--!!

Inuyasha moved, that sound of Tessaiga drawing out of its scabbard as he was still mid-leap in the air.

That necklace around Inuyasha’s neck ; that star shaped golden locket that Kagome had gifted him during his start of that lone journey -- it glowed in response to Inuyasha’s resolve. He could feel it in his soul, something stirring : that desire to protect, to guard, to help; to do and to succeed-- 

a button in his pocket also shimmered ; that one from Nephrite that Inuyasha had gotten in exchange for a hair tie -- in response to that feeling within Inuyasha’s mind, to focus and to find balance but draw on that deep inner strength.

Tucked underneath some of his armour was a little flower, that shimmered too ; that present from Wakka that Inuyasha had gotten during a welcoming celebration -- in response to Inuyasha’s will to want to nurture, to change things, to build a better future lasting with warmth.

All those sensations simultaneously merged together and Inuyasha could feel it expanding in his soul, that sense of power and desire travelled along his arms, into his hands, into his palms and melded together with Tessaiga’s resonation of Inuyasha’s heart.

Together.

As one!

The Tessaiga shimmered, that blade of the sword eclipsing in darkness, but in that darkened navy blue / black shade, there were speckles of white, like shining stars that littered the night sky,

“MEIDO ZANGETSUHA!!” that air charged with energy, hairs on skin stood on end, a gentle yet abrupt breeze seemed to rustle the nearby trees, sending birds skyward and into flight. Inuyasha slashed towards Kazama, that darkened navy blue and black energy flung off the blade in a large crescent tidal that rushed towards the blonde.

Kagome would recognise this moment-- a dream, once, maybe--!

Kazama didn’t move, in fact, he smirked; and all at once, his blonde hair bled into a stark white platinum shade, and his crimson eyes blinked into a golden yellow shade. He moved then, drawing his blade, which transformed as it left its sheathe ; Inuyasha’s eyes widened, pupils shrinking-- what-- the Tessaiga; Kazama was wielding--?!

Mid drawing of the blade, Kazama swung it. “BAKURYUHA!” and that attack of Inuyasha’s was engulfed, it was melded together and then redirected back towards Inuyasha. Instantaneously; Inuyasha had no time to think to move--

He was swallowed by the Meido Zangetsuha, eyes widening as his pupils shrank more due to the shock, due to the feeling of his body being pulled away-- Inuyasha barely screamed, feeling his atoms and his soul distorting, as though trying desperately to stay--!!

and then, Inuyasha was just, gone, that scream cutting off as though interrupted.

Kazama stared up at the spot where Inuyasha had been, and let out a low, but deep laugh that rose in volume.

So that was what had happened-!

-------------

He landed with a grunt, having stumbled and spun around mid-air before slamming into the ground. Inuyasha coughed, trying to regain his bearings, hearing the sound of Tessaiga clanking against the ground and spinning a bit away. Inuyasha’s ears twitched, and he scrambled, gripped onto Tessaiga and sat up.

Alive...? He was alive-- Where--

Inuyasha stood onto his feet, swayed slightly, but glanced around; sniffed the air; it smelt familiar, somehow. Slightly. Wait. This was, the Higurashi shrine, wasn’t it?... Inuyasha glanced over, and froze: the spot where the Sacred Tree usually stood tall, it was, barren. Empty. The tree wasn’t... there?...

Disoriented, Inuyasha rushed over to Kagome’s house, only seeming to barely register the fact that it looked older, decrepit and out of use for years-- Inuyasha grunted, trying and failing to pull the front door open because it was stuck due to not having budged in ages-- with a harsher, final tug, he managed to get it open; only for some bats to fly out of it, that scent of dust thick in the atmosphere.

Inuyasha coughed, lifting a robed arm to shield his nose, eyes narrowed. What....? Where were the Higurashi family... Inuyasha hesitated at the threshold of the doorframe, his heart thudding deeply inside of his chest. Fingers twitched, not entirely registering that he was still holding onto Tessaiga.

He turned away, leaving that front door open, running away from that abandoned house and over to where the well was kept in that little shack; the well, if he could-- Inuyasha grunted, heaving and yanking that stuck too door open. Dark inside, but his eyes adjusted quickly, and he froze again.

The well was gone.

Tessaiga dropped from Inuyasha’s hand, clanking gingerly before it faded into a regular katana...

He couldn’t sense them: he couldn’t sense that link between the sengoku realm and this realm, not anymore!

PRIDE

you cling desperately to the illusion that you are better than everyone else. Smarter, prettier, more desirable. You are those things, you tell yourself. You HAVE to be. Because if you aren't better than everyone else, how can you ever be their equal? I am good enough, I am good enough, I AM good enough. Am I good enough? If I cannot prove my right to exists, my right to be here, do I even belong here at all?

TAGGED BY: @taijiyan​

𝐼𝒯'𝒮 𝒜𝐿𝐿 𝐿𝐼𝒫 𝒮𝐸𝑅𝒱𝐼𝒞𝐸

      [ 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘!! ]

Miroku had rushed back towards the group, utterly covered in fresh blood and sweat from how fast he had run. He was absolutely out of it, cradling Inuyasha’s limp, unconscious form in his shaking arms, chest heaving. Inuyasha’s chest was badly damaged, in fact, Tessaiga’s broken top half was embedded into his chest -- as though it had been thrown into his body with impressive force.

Sango did her best to calm Miroku down, asking what had happened whilst she and Kagome took the unconscious, bleeding -- dying -- Inuyasha from him. Miroku was still unsettled, clearly shaken and distraught, but trying to calm ; something about a powerful demon, not Naraku , blonde hair, red eyes, a drawled, deep yet powerful voice--

All Miroku implored was for them all to do what they could to save Inuyasha’s life; his body was trying to heal, but whatever that blonde bastard had done was impeding that process and slowing it, which was only making Inuyasha’s loss of blood all the worse. Bits of Miroku’s inner robe were torn where he had tried to slow the bleeding, bandage what he could.

It took quite some time, to fully get that bleeding under control ; to take the upper portion of Tessaiga’s broken true fang out of Inuyasha’s chest without farther damaging him. Heavy clouds had rolled in, as though chasing Miroku from that horrid spot where everything had gone awry. Sango and Kagome tried to get more info out of Miroku while working away on those injuries ; he, even now, an hour or two later, was still out of sorts but getting himself pulled together.

‘ Kazama ’ is what Miroku had heard ; although he’d had a rough time of it due to the shock of everything that had been happening at the time. He’d almost missed it, in fact -- but maybe this Kazama had wanted Miroku to know his name.

Those blood-soaked handmade cloths were gathered up by Sango and Miroku, carrying them in basins to go grab cleaner water for Inuyasha. Kagome, meanwhile, stayed behind, as that rain finally began to fall.

She sat there, Inuyasha’s head leaned against her lap ; he hadn’t woken, not once. Not stirred ; he was so deathly still. If it weren’t for the way his laboured breathing left his lips -- she had leaned forward, arms moving to almost desperately, pleading hold him. Kagome bent down more,

and Inuyasha, just barely, within the dregs of that darkness, felt a warmth envelop his body and his soul, as though something within him were reacting to Kagome’s touch. To her soul, and the way her lips found his own. His brows furrowed slightly, but otherwise, he still didn’t wake --- and that rain, it poured over them both, as his demonic blood stirred, moved along with Kagome’s desire and her prayers, and began to increase his own healing ability.

「巫女」::                                                          “Mmn...Maybe...Though there is also that old additive: 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.' I can only hope the next go around will come out well...For you too. 

                                                                                       “Seems like a lot of your good intentions come out in the wrong spectrum.”

                ::She arched her brows a bit, and looked over at the houshi. The fact that his good intentions often came out all wrong was why she asked him the question. She rather thought he’d have a unique and personal insight on the phenomenon.::

𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 as he studies, toying with the midnight of his eyes as he brushes up on sutras. or figures out more ways to provide for their family. she moves with quiet ease to where he sits, fingers brushing against his shoulder before she’s leaning down to kiss the top of her houshi’s head.

|> CUMIN

You see yourself so clearly that you can see the gaping hole inside you where you lost a piece long ago. It's there and it's ragged and painful and bleeding and you don't know how no one else can see it when it takes up so much of your awareness. You run from it, fight it, try to find it but nothing bandages up that hungry mawing void inside yourself and when you're tired, uninspired, you swear it grows and grows.

You promise yourself you want to be alone, promise yourself that you want to be different, want to be special, love having this hole inside you and point it out in words or song or jokes and stories and take pride in that pain, in your uniqueness in this world of grays and storm clouds. You are 5 am rain on asphalt roads and sputtering street lamps.

You are petrichor musings and messy guitar chords and a thousand contradictions wrapped inside a quiet cry, an evening of coffee and jittering hands and a promise that you're okay or that you're fine until you're falling apart in someone's arms or messages and pretend you're alright in the morning. You taste so strongly but sometimes you wonder if all you are is ash.

tagged by: @ka-go-me​

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose.” she wasn’t entirely certain how she had come to be in this place exactly...or where she actually was; just that she hadn’t seen any one or anything for days and she was honestly enjoying the solitude...this did provide an opportunity to get her bearings though.