A/N: Ahh...smell that new-story goodness...

Disclaimer: I own this really cool paperclip that is shaped like an electric guitar. But I do not own InuYasha, Yu Yu Hakusho, or my amazing collection of stolen pens.

//The Phoenix\\

§Angel in the Breakdown§

"Undeserving to the horror

Yet still her eyes behold.

At spilt blood of her comrades

The breakdown must unfold."

—Adrasteia Wen (me)

Kagome stood on the ledge of the bridge's guardrail, the small platform slowly getting stained with her blood. Here she stood, still seventeen, still the Guardian of the Shikon no Tama, just as she was earlier today. But earlier today she had true friends; earlier today, she had been relatively in good health, mentally, physically, and emotionally; earlier today, she didn't see the need to stand before the raging water of the river just a step away.

Everything was gone; her mother, Jii-chan, Souta, all lost a week ago, but just earlier today…

InuYasha…

Shippou…

'Oh Shippou,' she cried internally, so helpless to her lost son. There was no way of bringing him back; not without Sesshoumaru.

Sesshoumaru…

Miroku…

Sango…

Sister. Kagome could barely take it anymore. She desired nothing more than to fall into that river below; to join those now lost to her. Lost to her, just because Naraku wanted to see her face when the only tethers to heart had been snapped…snapped by him.

That…that bastard. I'm glad he's dead. Killed by his own trap when it backfired. Kagome's vision was blurring, her blood loss forcing her mind to wander to why she was here, for the life of her wanting to just jump and be done with it.

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InuYasha was breathing heavily; this was getting way too dangerous. Naraku, the real Naraku, was standing behind the army of demons that he had absorbed and released for this, the final battle.

He was wounded badly; the miasma entered his system through the gapping hole in his stomach and his left arm hung useless as his side, the nerves destroyed in the surprise of Naraku's cowardly attack.

He looked to his side where Kagome was crying over the dead body of her adopted son, his jugular cut from the unforeseen blades of a soulless Kagura, whose empty eyes stared at him even now, though her head was detached from the rest of her body. Kagome was wounded as well, her back a bloody mess from when she tried in vain to save the already departed life of Shippou. His death was peaceful, too quick to notice, but it was of little comfort to the miko, or anyone else for that matter. No one was expecting Kagome to fight for a while; they wanted her to mourn in peace. It was the least that they could do.

He looked to Sango and Miroku; they were fighting and losing with each youkai they destroyed. Naraku used InuYasha's moment of distraction to his advantage, rearing a tentacle at him and hitting him in the heart, killing him instantly, and then throwing him into the nearby river.

Kagome had chosen that moment to look up and she screamed just as she had with Shippou. This wasn't right. So soon after losing her family, only to deal with this; she was losing her control. Standing before Shippou, as if to protect him even though she knew he was gone, she knocked an arrow and shot it at the demons attacking Sango and Miroku and watched them dissolve, but even that was twisted to Naraku's enjoyment.

With the opening that was presented to him and before Kagome could even shout a warning, the tentacles sprang into action and pierced the monk and the slayer in the neck and lungs, holding them as the blood slid down the scales, dropping to form a puddle before throwing them into the river, following the dead body of InuYasha.

Kagome looked on as two more of her friends, her family, hit the water and sunk out of sight. She looked around, desperate for any help to come forth and assist her in destroying this bastard. No one else was there—just her and Naraku.

"Poor Kagome, all alone I see. There is nobody left to save you. Sesshoumaru is dead—he tried and failed to avenge the death of that stupid girl Rin. I killed her, too, you know, just to see how Sesshoumaru reacted. It went as well as I thought; he was enraged that the Tenseiga wouldn't work because her body was burnt to ashes while she was alive. He and that idiotic toad fought to their deaths for that little human.

"Kouga was easy enough to destroy as well; I just attacked his pack and he fell to a weak, disgraceful death as well."

Kagome fell to her knees, pain and rage overtaking her body. How dare this…thing…take the lives of so many innocent people—innocent people who did not deserve death or to have it mocked like he was doing now. They died with honor, and honor they shall have! She'd be damned if this creature live another second!

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And live no more he did. Whatever it was restricting her miko abilities, whatever that unseen barrier was it willingly shattered at the thirst for honor to the dead and the need for avengement. It exploded forth with a just fury that had left Naraku quaking. In desperation, he called upon the powers of the Shikon to protect him, to reflect the attack back at its sender.

Such a foolish bastard he was.

Kagome was the jewel's Guardian; even the demon souls rested easy around her and only around her. It would not kill the one who gives it peace: the young, fragile warrior who let it feel safe.

The Shikon flew through the air and combined with the single shard around its keeper's neck before lodging itself back in her left side, regretfully forced to break the skin to get to where it was born in her body, causing her yet another wound, but settling itself into dormancy for the reason that it was once again with its mistress.

The wave of immense purification discriminated against none of the foliage on its way to Naraku, before painfully destroying every last bit of his evil. There were no ashes, no chances for a rebirth like that of Kikyou. But before anything could even be done to bury Shippou, she was force to her time, late at night, at the bottom of the well.

She walked aimlessly for a while, encountering no one on this balmy spring night. Kagome could tell that it had rained today; the scent clung to the still moist ground like her blood to the tatters of her useless school uniform. It was a wonder that she had yet to die from her wounds, but she expected the Shikon was keeping her alive as she wandered around for a few hours. She broke when the river came to view.

Blame, guilt, anguish; all were resting on her back like a dead body, the weight almost bringing her to her knees. She held herself accountable for the extinguished lives of her loved ones. Sango trained her to be a taijiya, dammit! Why couldn't she have defended them like she had worked so hard to do? She was a good pupil! She knew herbs and poisons and how to throw Hiraikotsu and fight with a sword and dodge attacks! She knew it all, the armor that proved her status lying snug in a little corner of the well house at her abandoned home, and she couldn't do a damned thing to assist the only family she had left!

The moon shone its brilliance down to the earth, falling upon her pale skin, reflecting off the tear tracks that kept renewing themselves with each blink of her eyes. Everything was gone from her, and she wanted nothing more than to be with what she lost again. Was that so wrong?

Yes, she knew that it was wrong, that she shouldn't be here letting her wounds bleed and contemplating her own death, but she was just floating out to sea with her anchor broken.

She looked down to the uninviting water; even it didn't seem to want her to die. But that was okay, she was willing to impose herself just this once. Still facing the water, her body bent slightly at the hips to get a better view, she prepared to let her muscles relax so she could just simply fall into the river, gravity inviting her, pushing her down to meet the icy canal…

"What are you doing?" a male voice from behind her asked, horror lacing his tone. The sound of heavy footsteps became louder as the person came up to stand near her. "What happened to you?"

Kagome assumed that he meant the wounds on her back rather than what brought her here. It was dark; he probably just noticed the blood dripping from her body. Nonetheless, she chose to answer for her reasons of standing on the ledge of a bridge.

"Everything has left me, none by will of their own, but they're still gone, and I won't see them again while I'm still here. I want to follow them, by way of blood and water; the way of their own demise," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screaming she did on the battlefield. She faced the man who interrupted her, just a little bit surprised by what she saw.

He looked a bit like a foreigner, and wasn't exactly handsome but he had this thing about him that made Kagome look at him for longer than she intended. It was the look in his eyes; he looked like he was hurting, just because she was in pain. His orange hair was gelled at the top of his head in the classic punk style and he had thin, brown eyes and a bit of a point to his face. And he was tall, really, really tall, definitely dwarfing her little one hundred fifty-one centimeters in an instant.

The strange young man looked worried and confused at what to do or to say. "Could you come down? I'm sure we could…talk, or something," he tried to reason, looking around nervously. His gruff voice was starting to let onto his panic. Kagome looked at him oddly.

"Why? I do not know you," she answered in a hoarse whisper again, just now realizing how raw her throat had become.

The boy looked slightly aggravated at her response. "Dammit, I just don't wanna see ya kill yourself!" he shouted, flinging his arms in the air.

Kagome froze, staring into the man's beady eyes and seeing the sincerity within them. He doesn't want me to die, but he doesn't know me. She felt something pulling her down; a new anchor to keep her to reality. The veracity of the situation hit her, and she was terrified. She straightened herself as best she could so she wouldn't fall forward, but instead tilt back. Looking to the young man behind her, she flashed him a small, somewhat true smile briefly before letting the fatigue and emotional befuddlement carry her to a blissful unconsciousness.

§

Kazuma Kuwabara caught the young woman before she hit the ground. He was in a bit of a shock. He was getting home from a rather boring mission really late at night and he runs across some pretty girl about to jump off a bridge. When he walked closer, he saw the blood that covered her shaking frame.

He wanted to know what happened to her, but he couldn't wake her up now. It would be best if he ran home and woke up Shizuru to take care of her wounds; she was much better at bandaging than he was.

When he made it to the front door of the small house he shared with his sister, Kuwabara had to move the girl to one arm and get the key to turn the lock and deadbolt. He carefully swung open the door and shut it again, locking it as it had been locked before his arrival.

Kuwabara was fairly confused and very torn. What could drive someone to that? He could feel the heartache seeping from the woman's energy, which was, for that matter, pure and cleansing. When he had first felt it, he just wanted to see what it was; to know what the rare innocence that made his soul feel rejuvenated was in such a tainted reality. Who wouldn't?

But when he saw that the source was a petite young woman at the ledge of a bridge, leaning so she could just fall as though she couldn't care, Kuwabara panicked. He had never felt an energy like hers before, and he didn't want to let it get washed away; his heart and his code not letting harm come to this woman who looked younger than he did, even if it was from herself.

Kuwabara felt compelled to help her, like she was a little sister who needed her older brother's help and support.

And speaking of siblings…

He set the strange woman down gently on the guest bed, cringing at the blood on his clothes, before starting down the hall to his sister's room. He opened the door and, after making sure that his hand was fairly clean from the same crimson on his shirt, cautiously shook his older sister awake; Shizuru hated to be woken up.

§

Shizuru stood in the doorway of the guestroom staring at the bed in a stupor. The teenager was lying comfortably on her stomach; her back wounds wouldn't allow for contentment if there was the pressure of her own weight. She was wearing a pair of Shizuru's old clothes from a few years ago; with a fresh pair of underwear that older girl was going to return tomorrow because they were too small. A pair of dark purple sweatpants was hidden by the light green coverlet, but the back of a worn-in business shirt that once belonged to her father, before he and her mother passed away, could be seen. The outlines of the bandages were visible, the stark white material covering the deep lacerations, and the small, yet profound, hole in the left side of the woman's hip. Shizuru was thankful that Kurama had made them that special salve to stop the bleeding without the need for nasty stitches, especially since she wasn't exactly a particularly remarkable seamstress; she was sure the girl would agree as well. But still, she was in a silent daze.

No less than an hour ago, she was awoken by her little brother, knocked her little brother senseless after aforementioned act, was lead to the guestroom, and tended to the wounds of a girl that she knew nothing about. Kazuma wasn't forthcoming on the info concerning her, so either he didn't know or he didn't want to tell. Clearing her head with a little shake, she moved to the living room to where her brother was sitting, waiting to hear if his living discovery was still as such.

When she entered the room, Kazuma stood and asked, "How is she? She gonna be okay?"

Shizuru sighed and sat down in the chair. "She should be fine, but you need to tell me what happened," Shizuru insisted, using patience with her brother. "How did she end up like that? Was she like that when you found her? Where was she?" she prompted when Kuwabara still wouldn't answer. She watched her brother's internal struggle play out in his eyes before he looked up and answered.

"I don't know any details but I found her at that bridge some-odd blocks away. She was gonna jump, I could tell 'cause she was really sad, and it was in her aura. She already had those wounds and I don't know a thing as to how she got 'em. But I know what she said to me when I asked her what happened, and I know that my memory isn't great but I think that I'll remember it for the rest of my life." Kuwabara paused; he seemed to be thinking harder, finding the meaning to the words that Shizuru had yet to hear.

Finally, Shizuru asked, "What did she say, Kazuma?" The expression of confusion settled heavily on Kuwabara's face as he recited what the depressed young woman answered.

"'Everything has left me, none by will of their own, but they're still gone, and I won't see them again while I'm still here. I want to follow them, by way of blood and water; the way of their own demise,'" he repeated. He paused before resuming the conversation. "But I don't get what she means with the 'by way of blood and water.' I'm pretty sure that everyone she knew is dead, which is why she wanted to be with them."

Shizuru nodded again, thinking of her own possibilities. "Maybe," she said after a moment of thinking, "they were injured and then drowned? We'll never know until we ask her, which is not something we will do as soon as she wakes up," she demanded to her little brother, looking in his eyes to make sure that he heard correctly. When he nodded his agreement, she stood up and stretched, heading upstairs to the bedrooms.

"We should go to bed. Your Spring Break ended tonight, but I'll call the high school and tell them that you are unable to attend because you have a fever or something. We need you here to take care of the girl while I'm working at the salon tomorrow. We're both going to have to wake up early to make sure she doesn't have a fever or infection." She halted her progress in the hall when she reached the doorway of the guestroom, stopping Kuwabara who was just behind. "Those wounds were really serious; I wish I had an idea as to what did it."

"'What?'" Kuwabara asked curiously, looking at his sister.

"Those wounds didn't seem like they could be made by ningen means. I'd almost say it was done by a youkai. But how? Wouldn't the toddler notice? And why her?" Shizuru frowned.

"It may be because of her aura, sis. It feels pure, and youkai like to taint things. Didn't you notice it?" Kuwabara wondered. Was his sister losing her touch?

"I noticed it. It makes me feel peaceful. It didn't feel like the aura of someone who wanted to die." The older sister shook her head before flipping the switch that made the room glow with artificial lighting to 'OFF.' "Let's just go to sleep and worry more in the morning," Shizuru whispered decisively.

§

Kagome stood alone on the pebbled shore beside a peaceful brook, wondering where the hell she was, or where that guy went. Sighing, she sat down and contemplated all that had happened in the last day. She lost, well, everything, and almost herself if it hadn't been for that stranger.

"Kami-sama, what was I thinking?" she asked herself. "So much would be lost if I died."

"Exactly," a voice from behind her responded, delicate and gentle like the creek that she was standing beside. Kagome turned to the holder of the sound and found it to be a woman in extremely old-fashioned armor, a sword at her hip. Long, flowing, black hair framed a pale, beautiful face, accenting on the dark green of her eyes. Before Kagome stood none other than Midoriko, Creator of the Shikon no Tama.

"Midoriko-sama?" Kagome questioned, as if to test the actuality of who was in front of her.

Midoriko nodded her head and sat beside where Kagome stood, patting the ground next to her in invitation. Kagome plopped herself on the right side of the woman. Midoriko smiled slightly.

"I am sorry to say that our meeting was not wrought of better circumstances," she began. Kagome nodded, understanding that she was talking about the deaths of her friends and family. "But nonetheless, we are joined now, and I can communicate with you as I, as well as the other souls in the Jewel, have longed to do for a while yet. I wanted to explain to you what you could expect from now.

"You have probably wondered what became of youkai in your era?" Kagome nodded her head again. "Well, they have not disappeared from existence; I daresay that would be an impossible task to achieve. Instead, the Powers that Be have separated the world that you knew in the Sengoku Jidai into three different realms.

"Ningenkai is the world for humans, and is the world that you have known for most of your existence. Here, humanity is safe, or safe as it could be, but that shall all be explained in due time.

"Makai is the world of demons, apparitions, et cetera. It has its basic chaos and destruction that all youkai have a craving for, but no ningens. Most is much like the Sengoku Jidai if a comparison must be made, but the sky is red with turmoil.

"Reikai is sort of like the mediator between the two. It keeps the youkai away and Ningenkai safe. Souls of the dead are brought there to be sent to where they need. King Enma is the one with the most power there but his son, Koenma, is working in his stead.

"Now, Reikai keeps Ningenkai safe with the Reikai Tantei, quite the unique little group if I do say so myself. But you need not worry about them much; they will not bring you harm. In fact, I am almost certain that Koenma may order them to guard you, which, in all honesty, has already started." Kagome quirked her head to the side, confused. Midoriko smiled again and explained, "That young man who saved you from yourself is part of the group."

Kagome nodded. "But why would I need such protection?" she asked, though she already had an idea of what the answer would be.

Midoriko laughed lightly. "Oh, how quickly we forget! I know that you know that you are the Guardian of the Shikon no Tama, my dear Wakamusha. However, you, as I, are legendary.

"You see, Naraku was the entire reason for the creation of the three worlds. Therefore, indirectly, you are what helped to bring the separation about, though you know that youkai and ningens could coexist, as was proved by that delightful group of yours. Some youkai may hate you for that, not all mind, but some, so they would try to kill you, thus needing said protection. Then again, there are probably just as many regarding you as either a religious figure, or a heroine of one of the greatest epics in demonic—and for the most part human—history."

"Midoriko-sama," Kagome interrupted. "Just how…legendary…am I?"

"Extremely," Midoriko answered simply. "To them, you are known as Jun-Namida no Miko."

"Priestess of the Pure Tear?"

"Yes, and these," the ancient miko pressed her thumb to Kagome's forehead and a blue glow ensued before she removed it and then held her hands to Kagome's face, the thumbs on the young miko's cheeks glowing amethyst before she, again, removed them, "are your legendary marks, as are the scars on your back. It proves to everyone just who you are and what you stand for." Kagome scrambled to the brook and looked at her reflection. Just where Midoriko's thumb resided was a light blue teardrop with the Kanji of 'pure' in a light violet color, matching the color of her energy as well as the two small teardrops from where the great miko's thumbs had been on her cheeks, giving off the impression she was crying.

"My scars?" Kagome asked, staring at her visage in the water with amazement.

"Hai, Wakamusha, your scars. Your legend, most specifically the battle that you have recently endured, has been told to youkai children for centuries. The scars you bear on your back have been noted well throughout time. And sadly, unlike your markings, they cannot be concealed," Midoriko explained. Kagome looked up in confusion, which the older miko swiftly noticed.

"You have a glamour on your marks in your physical body, but not the scars. If you want them to be seen, simply will it. The same can go for if you want it hidden. Best be careful, though, as they can just as easily be revealed in times of high emotion."

Kagome nodded and slowly sat back to her previous spot. "But, I have such little control over the power I have," Kagome mumbled slightly, looking down at her feet in self-conscious embarrassment. Midoriko laughed lightly and shook her head.

"Wakamusha, do you seriously think that the Shikon would let someone incompetent protect it? The only reason that your energy was withheld and so uncontrolled was because of the broken Tama. With it restored to what it once was, your power will be much easier to use. That breakthrough against Naraku was all the proof needed to say that you are quite in control of yourself.

"If you wish for a barrier, all you need is to envision it or something like it. Let the power flow out and solidify into a form of protection, set the requirements for entrance, whatever it is you want it to do.

"If you want an attack, then it is much the same. Say you wish to shoot out a beam of energy from your palm, like you did on your first night in the Sengoku Jidai before the Shikon was torn from your side. See the energy flow from your body and focus into your palm and expel it from your body."

Kagome looked at Midoriko a bit sadly. "You make it sound so easy."

"You make it sound impossible. Shooting with your bow and arrows has toned your spiritual muscles to perfection. It is simply a matter of getting used to the feeling and knowing what things will accompany them; you have the talent, the potential, you just need to practice it." Midoriko stood and Kagome followed her example.

"Now, before I return you to consciousness and all the pain of being a wounded human in mourning, I wish for you to take this gift." The ancient miko pulled out a beautiful sword. The hilt was carefully wrapped in soft, white, leather with interwoven threads of green. The blade was long, slender, light, and strong. When the light hit it in the right way, it shone with light violet flames. "This is the Jihi no Kiseki, the Miracle of Mercy. It is like the Tenseiga; it saves lives and heals wounds with a mere swipe. The Kiseki-Jihi is also rather sensitive as to its handler." She handed Kagome the sword and the dark oak scabbard. "The sheath is extremely durable and can be used as a defense weapon," she added.

"I also have the sword that I crafted at Toutousai's place," Kagome sighed. Things just got much more difficult than she had hoped. It was so much to absorb: people dead, almost attempted suicide, a 'Reikai Tantei', and that whole legendary thing.

"You have more than that, Wakamusha," Midoriko chimed. "The Tessaiga has been left to you, waiting a few centimeters into the ground at the base of Goshinboku, as you are the only person to whom InuYasha would have trusted it. It trusts you, and it will let you wield it." The Shikon's mother sighed almost wistfully. "That is one amazing sword, that is."

Kagome looked down sadly. "Hai, it certainly is unique," she whispered, her heart cleaving a bit. Oh InuYasha… Warm arms embraced her tenderly.

"It will get easier, Kagome. I promise you will not be alone. You will find love; even though it may seem impossible now, I know you will," Midoriko soothed. Kagome threw her arms around the older miko, taking the comfort. When Kagome calmed, Midoriko moved away, standing and offering a delicate grin.

"I shall leave you to your rest, Wakamusha. If you need me, I will be here," she assured before her voice faded and Kagome's surroundings faded into nothingness.

§§§§§

Translations not explained in text:

Wakamusha-Young warrior

A/N: So...how was it? Did you like it? Should I just crawl into a ditch and die sad, alone, and paperclipless? Review please, greatly appreciated!