The Way to Elysium by Chiaztolite

Countdown

Author's Note:

Here we go again! I originally planned to hold off on rewriting this story to focus on finishing my other fics, but in the end, I couldn’t resist diving back in. The Way to Elysium holds a special place in my heart—not only is it my first venture into this fandom, but it’s also my favorite. With my schedule focused on writing original novels, I don’t get as much time for fanfiction as I’d like. But since this is a rewrite, I’m confident I can release one chapter a week. I’ve missed being part of this fandom and reconnecting with all of you, and I’m excited to bring this story back to life. Note that my other fics will still continue, albeit at a slower pace. While this is a rewrite, you can expect new scenes, richer world-building, deeper character exploration, and more surprises along the way. To those who’ve read the original version, thank you for giving this story another chance. And to new readers—welcome! I hope you enjoy the journey.

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Twelve days. That was all that stood between Kagome and the day her life would change forever.

She’d only returned to the feudal era two weeks ago, but everything felt like slipping into a familiar rhythm. The hum of cicadas filled the air, and the scent of freshly tilled earth lingered in the breeze. Under Kaede’s watchful eye, Kagome had resumed training her spiritual abilities, feeling the energy inside her build, more stable with each passing day. Sango and Miroku remained by her side, though now their hands were often full with lively children rather than weapons. Their camaraderie—born from chasing shards and vanquishing Naraku—remained strong, even if battle was now more rare than routine.

But today, that quiet rhythm cracked.

A yōkai had broken the peace that had settled over the village. It wasn’t just any wandering demon—it was a hulking beast with eyes burning a deep, unsettling crimson. From the forest’s edge, Kagome could see the monster’s shadow stretching long under the afternoon sun.

Inuyasha crouched low as he leapt down from a treetop and landed in front of her. “You ready?” he asked, ears twitching toward the beast. “Big guy’s slow. We should be able to deal with it fast.”

Kagome nodded and adjusted the bow strapped across her back, her fingers grazing the arrows in her quiver. There was comfort in his presence, but her grip tightened a little too hard. Twelve days until the wedding. The thought stirred unease inside her, and not for the first time.

Sango and Miroku arrived on Kirara, the fire-cat’s fur bristling with unease. “Not the toughest enemy,” Miroku said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “but it could still cause serious damage if left unchecked.”

Sango’s hand was already on her Hiraikotsu. “We should handle this quickly.”

Inuyasha gave Kagome a sidelong glance, a hint of teasing in his grin. “Feel like taking the lead? You know, for practice. You’ll need something to brag about at the wedding feast.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation. “Are you implying I’ll get rusty after I—” She trailed off, her heart fluttering slightly. “…get married?”

For a fleeting moment, Inuyasha’s cocky demeanor faltered. His ears drooped, and a faint blush colored his cheeks. “Yeah, well… things’ll be different. Not a lot of demon fights after we—”

“Settle down?” Kagome finished, trying not to notice the tightness growing in her chest.

The words sat heavy between them, and in that moment, Kagome saw a flicker of uncertainty in his golden eyes—a hint that maybe, just maybe, the same knot of doubt twisted inside him too.

Later, she told herself. I’ll think about it later.

“Alright,” she said aloud, forcing a grin. “I’ve got this one.”

Inuyasha’s face relaxed into a playful smirk she knew so well. “That’s my girl.”

Kagome stepped toward the yōkai, drawing an arrow from her quiver. Sango and Miroku remained behind, watching closely but keeping their distance. The beast lumbered forward, its footsteps heavy and deliberate, as if thinking the land belonged to it alone.

Something about the air shifted, a strange tension prickling Kagome’s skin. Her heart thudded in her chest—not from fear, but from the uneasy sense that something wasn’t right. She nocked her arrow, pulling the string taut, the weight of it familiar and steady in her hands. The yōkai raised one massive, clawed hand, sunlight glinting off the razor-sharp edges.

Her breath hitched, brushing off the earlier premonition. This should be easy.

But in that brief second—when she should have released—the world seemed to stutter, as if caught between heartbeats.

Her fingers froze.

The yōkai struck. Her eyes widened as red splattered before her eyes. Agony seared through her chest, the claws cutting deep, rending through muscle and bone. The force of the blow sent her sprawling, her bow slipping from her grasp as she hit the ground with a sickening thud. The metallic scent of blood filled her nose, sharp and overwhelming, and the world tilted violently beneath her.

“Kagome!”

Inuyasha’s voice roared over the roaring in her ears. She blinked against the haze creeping into her vision, trying to focus. Rain began to fall—soft at first, then heavier, each drop cold as it mixed with the warmth spilling from her wound. Her limbs felt distant, her body sinking into the mud as the yōkai’s growl faded into the background.

How… did this happen? she wondered, her mind clouded with confusion. Why couldn’t I… shoot?

Footsteps thundered toward her, and then Inuyasha’s face filled her vision, wild silver hair sticking to his rain-soaked skin. His golden eyes—usually filled with stubborn confidence—were wide with fear.

“Kagome,” he said, his voice breaking. “Don’t talk. Just stay awake, alright? Sango and Miroku are getting help. You’re gonna be fine.”

She tried to respond, but the effort sent hot blood rushing into her mouth. Enemy… The word flickered in her mind like a dying ember. She managed to force the question past her lips. “E… en… enemy?”

Inuyasha’s hand cradled hers, his grip fierce and grounding. “We got it. It’s gone. It can’t hurt you anymore.”

His words should have been comforting, but the cold seeping into her bones told her otherwise. She felt herself slipping, drifting further from the sound of his voice.

I’m sorry, Inuyasha…

She wanted so desperately to remember him as he was—laughing, alive, full of fire—but her vision blurred until all she could see were vague shapes and shadows. Inuyasha’s frantic calls sounded distant, as if carried on the wind, growing fainter with every passing second.

The warmth of his hand was the only thing that kept her tethered to the moment. But even that was slipping away.

As the darkness closed in, a strange sense of peace washed over her—a quiet acceptance, as though she were standing at the edge of a great unknown. Her heart slowed, her thoughts turning toward the future they had planned, a future she wasn’t certain she would see.

But just before the darkness took her, one thought rose softly in her mind.

She thought she was meant for more than this.