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Miroku's vision trembled, and the trees before him melted together. A jerk of his head to the right, Kagome's body, unconscious, hair fanned out like a black wave, body floating swamp water. His feet tripped on the rocks, a look over shoulder almost undid him. Sango, fighting and screaming.

"Monk!"

Inuyasha, waving at him. Where was Shippou? He hadn't seen the kitsune since the mist came. The mist, everywhere, sinking into his pores, filling his lungs. He was breathing blood.

Inuyasha, falling. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Kagome hadn't found the prize of all her learning. Inuyasha hadn't found his shards. Sango hadn't found her brother. Shippou hadn't found his future.

When had he gone to his knees? He couldn't remember, and all before him ran red. The mist it was, then. Nothing for it but this way. The beads slipped slickly between his fingers. He was going to touch the sky.

Thunder. Voices. No matter.

"Don't, the wasps! MIROKU, THE WASPS!"

He reached for the morning sky, pulled it to him, bent existence to his mortal fingers, until all the mist was bled away.

Like the others, he slept where his head hit ground.

***

The stink yanked Miroku to temporary consciousness, a rank taste that lingered on his tongue. Stones rested on his lids, weighing them down, until it was too much even to try to open them. Feet pounded around him, and the sweat from a hundred wounded bodies collected on his skin. Beneath him a wooden floor offered no comfort, but his head was elevated, at least. It was more than he'd imagined possible. He tried again to open his eyes, but the pain would not let him. Gods, the smell...

"Bring the rest of them in! Someone open the windows! Where is the healer?"

"But my lady, it's a youkai! We can't--"

"Do it! You there, more blankets! Haiko, start counting bodies. I want that healer NOW!"

"Madame look, his hand!"

"The cloth is moving, the prayer beads are going to break, my Lady!"

"Guard, come forward."

"Are you certain?"

"Perhaps we could--"

"Do as I say. This was our salvation, but it will be his death. Tirihoju, use his beads to seal the bag, and then take it to the cliff, and throw it out into the air. Be glad you have the best throwing arm of all of us, lest it take you as well."

"As you wish, my Lady."

"The healer has come!"

"Just in time. Guard, raise your axe."

***

Hours later, Miroku awoke a different man.