All Change In Time

♥

However noisy the area where Kikyou and Inuyasha were became, it did not compare to the sounds emerging from the village to the west. The bellows of dust were red and heavy, wet with blood. Screams flushed deep into the night, growing only weaker when the thing of their troubles came near. The villagers of this place ran on bare and swollen feet, trying feverishly to disguise themselves from the silhouette of their attacker as it stood before the fullness of the moon.

Naraku reached his hand to his mouth, his nails painted with the vicious slander of life. He licked it clean, making noisy, greedy sounds that inflicted chills down the audience’s spine. His eyes were deep, traded from the orbs that were once a mad human’s to shapeless, black shadows that held the people captive. He remembered his former embodiment’s ( Onigumo) life, and he compared it to the crying peasant’s future, tilting his head back in a pleased groan. His throat bubbled around the crimson fluid while he drank of it, feeding on the murders he casually placed on this village. He was bored…searching simply because he had nothing more he wanted to do.

He sniffed the air like an animal, the snort disgusting, ensnaring the assorted perfume of the environment. Kikyou…he could almost feel her.

As though summoned by mere speculation, the white and red costume found its way into the open trail that ran through the village’s middle, where Naraku stood. She was poised at a lower angle, he being perched royally on a hill, but with a slight incline of her head, the moonlight played true to her normal expression of apathy. True, her fists clenched slightly with the pleading noises of those left to die at her side, but she did not go the help them, knowing that by the infection of Naraku’s teeth, all touched would die anyway. Besides this, she had more tedious things to attend to.

Naraku looked down on her, sulkily shrugging his shoulders as though understanding his fun had been put to a sudden halt. He still licked his lips, grinning with a pleased nod, and then inquired as to why she was there. Kikyou flinched at his voice, the sound grating with the force of fingernails over gravel, shattering the already ruined peace of the night.

“Naraku,” she began, gazing straight at him with an expression of listlessness, “why do you toy with Inuyasha so? That is not myself with them…but a puppet.”

Naraku threw back his head and laughed, the sound rougher than his voice by itself. Kikyou flinched again, but it was not a movement of fear or apprehension. Instead it was a motion of distrust and alertness, prepared to have the power-fueled demon throw himself at her in a frenzy to end her life as he had tried to do so many times before. In fact he had done so once before, but it was only his trickery that broke her physical body. It had seemed that he was victorious, having bound the half demon to a tree for a supposed eternity, and having also rid the old-world of his purifying lover as well. Due to standards of fate, and uncontrollable events, both things had been undone, and again Kikyou roamed, gazing thoughtfully at the man who was responsible for her original misery. She hated him, and wished his death over her own, but she also was spilt with the desire to have Inuyasha banished to the hell she was destined to someday return to. For this…she kept her purpose alive, allowing Naraku to make his meager way toward his own doom.

But Naraku did not know of Kikyou’s plans for him. He assumed that the woman was of disregarding nature and thus something he did not have to worry about. She had indeed surfaced some plots that were demanding of detail and took quite a while to repair, but other than that it seemed that she merely wanted to try and carry on her life as it was supposed to become. “Does it bother you Kikyou? That Inuyasha does not know any better than to suspect that you are the one and only? Or do you merely want to understand why I have used you as a reincarnation of myself?”

His lack of an answer made Kikyou feel ill. Noting his wry behavior, she shrugged with a careless sigh, gazing fondly at the moon behind him. “I want to know why you have used my image for your purpose, other than to get under Inuyasha’s skin. I do not know why irritating Inuyasha has suddenly become so important to you, Naraku. Or has your brain become spoiled by the new power of your shards?” She pointed at the region of his chest, where an orb glowed under his clothing. It was a deep, bruised purple, but Naraku’s malice had made it recently obtain a black shade. The radiance was entrancing, and Kikyou had to tear her eyes from it, but she said nothing, waiting for Naraku to respond to her so they could banter further.

“Dearest Kikyou,” Naraku hissed, grasping his jewel with an elated moan under his breath, “it is not the fact that I chose you as an image, but the fact that I can use your image. Inuyasha, as we both know, has a certain weak spot for your presence.” He fingered the Shikon no Tama idly, wandering his thoughts from one suspicion to another. “It came to me in a dream. I suddenly knew that in order to defeat Inuyasha, that I would have to pry that bothersome Kagome from his eyes. In using his weakness for you, I could ultimately shake the foundations of his unusual team and thus take advantage of their stupidity.”

Kikyou laughed, the sound of it crisp with scorn. She did not know why Naraku thought of her as simply a prop in a play, using her image to fool someone who she had all intentions of killing herself. Unlike the fake Kikyou, she had no waver in feeling. All she wanted was to feed on the living hatred of Inuyasha’s life and use it to keep herself a fleshy corpse. And when she grew tired of Naraku’s games? She had appointed the task of ending the shameful man’s reign and then ending everything with the grand finale of pulling her half demon back into the depths of hell with her. “Naraku,” she teased, scoffing him with a wave of her hands, “do you really think I would let you take Inuyasha? You know that he is mine and mine alone. I will be the victor here…I will take both you and Inuyasha as my trophies. And I will also kill anyone who dares to stand in my way.” The last part was incredibly quieter than the rest, barely falling past her lips before it died in the air.

Naraku seemed suddenly serious. With a frown, he tilted his head, curious at the priestess’s bold statements. She did not seem to show even the slightest hint of fear, and yet she managed not to gloat as most did. This made him ponder about the degree of her words, and he came to the conclusion that his dramatic ploys might come to a quicker end than originally thought. Shuffling his feet, it took only a half moment before he crossed that empty distance between he and Kikyou, the rustle of his movements hardly faster than his actual crossing. Within this time he was face to face with her, making his gasp and take a step back from him before he caught one of her hands in his, ensuring that she remain frozen there. His flesh was rough and lacked warmth, mingling in her own dead skin’s temperature before crushing the hand in his, grinning at her struggling hiss of pain.

Her hazel sights met with his, knowing now how foolish it had been of her to reveal her future plans, and she made haste to retreat. However, this was hindered and forcefully stopped when he grabbed her by a thick fist of hair, jerking her head to the side. Quickly, without so much as a taunting statement, he embedded his teeth into her neck, sinking his fangs into the flesh that was created from mud and graveyard soil. She tasted raw…a sweet blend of innocent soul and ravishing bitterness of her first death. At first she made a sharp noise in her mouth, her teeth crushed together to avoid splurging his pleasure, but she could hold it in no longer when he pulled his mouth closer. His fang tore rich holes into the ivory skin of her neck, and her shoulder was decorated with a faint shell of scarlet. Her blood was discolored, being of the dead and living, the opacity of it half and half. She still felt though, and she helplessly struggled under Naraku’s hands, which had already pinched hungrily around her waist, binding her to stand there.

“Naraku…” His name was uttered with a last, dark whisper by Kikyou before the maiden fell against him, her forehead heavy and beaded with sweat. At last he released her, holding her near him with a reward to Onigumo, who was deep in the chambers of his heart, picturing the desired Kikyou at last submitting to his will. Naraku felt as though at climax, and he shuddered with delight before applying his arms around the weak woman. He disregarded the villagers, accusing them of their luckiness with a deathly stare, before he tightened his grip on Kikyou and sought off into toward his castle. His voice was faint, but still understandable, when he said his final bit of conversation to her. “One by one,” he spoke, “ you all shall fall to me.”

♥

Meanwhile, during the encounter of the true Kikyou and the devilish Naraku, the fake reincarnation had wandered her way furiously back toward camp. It was not only the fact that she had been rejected by the one she was created for that angered her, but also that she was almost uncovered by the suspicious Sango. She knew as soon as the exterminator had laid eyes upon her at the very beginning of her appearance that she would tangle with the raven-haired girl. The fire in the other’s eyes could not be mistaken. As well as this, it could not be diverted. This was why she was almost discovered…almost displayed to Inuyasha as a traitor. Had it not been for Kagura’s handy fan, the fake Kikyou would have been a captive in this group’s possession, and Kagome would have surely been found by daybreak.

But she stopped once she cleared the underbrush, smiling somewhat. It did not matter that she had almost been discovered. After all, this was prevented, and the security of the puppet’s identity lay in the dreamless world of the wounded Sango, who was laying helpless only a few steps away. She had been previously tucked in by the always-considerate Miroku, who had nestled himself not too far away. However, he had been so busy attending to the woman over himself that his body was deserted in slumber, his snores falling on deaf ears and drawing on with no break in rhythm. Kikyou smiled and shook her head, the devious plan she had easy to think through. Even better…it would be easy to perform.

Tip-toeing around the normally insidious monk, Kikyou stood over the battered slayer, the bruises discoloring the normally peaceful and brilliant face. She was poised, frozen while having on foot on each side of Sango, before Kikyou fell to her knees, roughly sitting herself on the other’s stomach. This might have been insight to a more tasteless act, but Kikyou had no use of violating someone besides Inuyasha, and the fact that this one was unconscious was a larger detail. But instead of merely watching and fuming over the past events, a cruel sneer lanced the alert woman’s face, and she let her hands saddle over Sango’s throat, the fingers loosely touching the flesh that was white with clean bandages. Too bad she would never need them again. Time meant nothing to teinceincarnation of Naraku, but the fake Kikyou knew that her performance might be hindered if Inuyasha was to blunder from the night. Cautiously, nervous by her thought of failure, Kikyou’s fingers stalked further down the younger girl’s neckline, before her thumbs fell on the soft center of the windpipe. This is where she would begin.

It was a savage, sudden motion that brought all of Kikyou’s fingers together, clasping Sango’s throat in her hands. The roughness choked an uncomfortable groan from the sleeping body, but it faded casually as Kikyou strengthened her grip. Her face was twisted, masked by the brutal nature of this attack, but she did not find any disdain or guilt by it. She only felt as though this were cheating her capabilities. Despite this, she laughed softly under her breath, kneeling closer, her flesh burning where Sango’s unguided hands grasped and tugged, trying to free her body of the assault. Yet no effort the dying girl could muster could dare to remove the shifting grip on her neck, and it seemed to again be the end of Kagome’s dear “sister”.

But as Kagura’s plan had failed…so did this fake Kikyou’s.

Sango’s end would have surely been signed and pardoned had her pet not embellished from her unknown activities. It was well known that the bond between a slayer and her beastly assistant was strong, and it held true between Kirara and Sango. The catlike creature had been dawdling in the very first forest in search of the crow demon from before (by order and request of Inuyasha of course) and had began traveling back at the very moment it could sense Sango’s pain. Kirara had just now arrived, and it could not have been a better time! For as Sango’s face began to flush a deep color of purple before her sputtering began to grow faint Kirara herself overcame a thorn brush and thundered toward the pair, completely scaling Miroku with a coarse, fitful scream.

Kikyou ducked a murderous paw, bits of pieces of her clothing tore by the scathing claws, and she was forced to abandon her present situation, scorning the cat demon with several choice names. Kirara, unable to abandon her master’s side at this time, merely opened her mouth and howled disturbing promises should the mistress only tread a little nearer. Miroku was deeply scathed from his dreams when he merely rolled on his side and gave Kirara’s flank an impatient cuff, trying to quiet her. With a comical expression of surprise and associated sleepiness, he sat up, wiping his cheek where a dirty print was located. However, this mild comedy was erased when he saw Sango thrashing about in a coughing frenzy, having the burning fire of oxygen ailing her even as she kept sleeping. He held her in his lap, looking at Kikyou with bewilderment, anger, and a small amount of knowledge. The treachery of Kikyou was normally great, but never had she stooped so low as to smite the already wounded before. She had no quarrel with Sango!

But Miroku could not know that this was Naraku’s most detailed creation. This was not the true Kikyou, as she was already in Naraku’s grasp, forbidden to regain access to her daily tidings. She had no warned the group of this puppet, and thus Miroku merely wiped Sango’s brow, frowning, before nodding to Kirara. “Leave us, Kikyou!” He said this with a tart taste in his mouth, clucking his tongue as the priestess giggled and made a rude gesture with her hand before fasting into the forest she was already nearly submerged in. Kirara took a step to follow suit, but Miroku touched her shoulder, shaking his head. “To chase a ghost in a fool’s game. Go get Inuyasha…I fear that this has more to do than Kikyou merely wanted to do away with Sango for the fear of competition with him. We need to find Kagome as soon as possible.”

♥

Kagome noticed how night had again become day behind the stained glass of the room she was assigned to, sighing in trapped boredom. She had seen nothing but these distant, unfeeling castle walls for the past four days now. Time had crept by at first with agonizing slowness, and then with opening acts of kindness from Sesshomaru, they had fled with startling ease. But no matter the action of Inuyasha’s elder brother, Kagome still had the taste for the outdoors, which had thus far been denied to her. Of course, she had not actually gone and asked Sesshomaru for a kindly walk outside, as she was still burning shamefully from her discovery of his human affection.

The Lord himself was scarce, always pacing in his chambers. Occasionally he would grow furious at the mere thought of Rin’s situation and throw a chair across the room, but other than this random occurrence he brooded in silence. He had neither requested Kagome’s company nor required that she bathe with him since the first period, but he knew she was around. He could smell wherever she wandered, including where she had stood in his doorframe, where he suspected he uttered something about his original human visitor.

But this did not mean that Sesshomaru would ignore Kagome for very long. In fact, he was clothing himself for a morning outside, where the mild fall was pleasantly arranging his garden into a bed of color. His attire was the normal white kimono with red flower décor (it was highly evident that his passion was in the field of nature) and the somewhat pink boa wrapped from his back, over his right shoulder, and down into his middle. Along with this, he tied his shoes on with quick expertise, the slipper’s pointed tips making for fluid steps. His armor was not applied this time, as he wished to make a large impression to Kagome that he did not need it…that he did not want to be a suggestive command against her in any way.

He smiled at himself in the mirror, as he had been practicing this gesture for many hours now, his face sore and tight from the manner. He had found his smiles to be less than sincere, and desired to make them more pleasing to the eye, and with determination and a fixated stare, he had found some improvement. He rubbed his cheeks to return some of their feeling, and then he briskly left his quarters, turning sharply toward the room that Kagome had been generously given. He had much room for improvement, as he felt that he had overly apologized for his beginning treatment. He did not truly realize the deepness of Kagome’s hurt pride.

Doubtless, he opened the door, expecting to find her hiding away in some corner, dreaming of his dastardly brother Inuyasha. But instead he was greeting with a quick, uncertain smile from Kagome, which he returned with reflexive stiffness, consciously attempting to put his hard practice that morning to work. It indeed seemed to help, as Kagome stood from her chair, clasping her hands before her and bowing her head in the manner she might to an elder, her raven hair falling over her face with the accented arch of her shoulders. Sesshomaru felt meek color turn his cheeks, but he whisked the sensation away by coughing into his hands. “Kagome, would you like to attend with me to the gardens?”

The question was purposefully detached and seemed to be nonchalant, but Kagome stiffened with a brief dash of hope. “Do you really mean it, Sesshomaru? I can go outside?”

The glow in Kagome’s eyes elated him, and while her voice trembled with hardly contained excitement, Sesshomaru found himself uncomfortable, unable to shield himself with cruel apathy as he had done before. Nodding in defeat, he shrugged, tossing the gesture in sorry effort to remain distant. “I said you could so long as you attend with me. But you must not wander from my side. That would earn you weeks in the first windowless room I can find, be it dungeon or normal chamber.”

This made Kagome’s face darken somewhat, striking Sesshomaru with its disappointment, but she did not turn down the offer. Her returning smile was refreshing, and although he did not return it (his face stung from his past attempts) he nodded and turned his back to her, waiting. When she came behind him, he held out his hand, and she timidly took it, her fingers shaking when he enclosed his grip over her own. He did not take this to heart, as he understood she was rooted to the fear that he might be tricking her into a false security in attempt to break her spirit. Instead of growing impatient by her hesitation, he grinned and led her the shortest way to the door, noting the way she paid careful attention to their trek. He took her this way on purpose, as it led to a solid concrete wall, and should she take to the door at night when he could not catch her, she would find herself trapped in a concrete prison, only able to see the sky.

The air was judgmental on Kagome’s bruises, the light truly displaying what horror he had done to her. He winced inside, briefly touching a hand to her cheek to make sure that this was no shadow trick, before lecturing himself all the more on the importance of never repeating what he had done. Her eyes closed as he touched her, possibly trying to shut out the thought of his contact, and he sharply pulled away from her, turning to hide the shadow of hurt on his face. His feeling were bruised much like Kagome, but he did not let this weakness show. He released her hand at last, letting her tag along behind, as he came upon his garden.
He pilfered a hint of pride at Kagome’s open admiration of the blossoming garden, the velvet petals containing a texture of magic to her fingertips. She was at first apprehensive to be so bold, but Sesshomaru encouraged her by silently placing one of her hands on a large violet before shuffling along the walkway, assuming his inspection. From that spur, Kagome quickly took to touching everything she could reach, investigating everything from the roughest weed to the softest stem, each and every sensation urging a soft croon of pure satisfaction from her throat. Her voice itself was not needed, as Sesshomaru could tell by her change in posture that she was finding every sense of devotion by just being outside.

While she was busy and he was not, he turned and watched her, taking her true behavior in for the firs time. At this moment, despite a limp that had steadily become less evident as the minutes turned into hours, she appeared to be as she was in the beginning with Inuyasha. A breeze fluttered the silver robes she still wore, the sash hanging at graceful length past her knees. Her feet were bare, as only he wore shoes, and the hem of her clothing fell at the middle of her shin, resembling liquid metal while the folds tossed over her limbs. She was decorative, her ivory flesh glowing under the sunlight, the pallid hues not so unpleasant now that they fed on the warm air. Her hair, brushed fresh this morning and treated with several shampoos by his underlings, was shiny and bounced as a normal style might do, feathering the sharp edges of her face with a gentler, younger effect. She did not seem too unapproachable, now that she was dashing childishly from flower to flower, giving soft giggles as she went. As a matter of fact…he leaned forward, appreciating the difference of her company, and his eyes fluttered loftily closed, tangling his new realization with his capable actions of tenderness.

Her was still feral however…untamed by anyone. This was proven when he grew suddenly nervous, standing with a dismissive toss of his head. He did not want to be around Kagome anymore for the moment, as his thoughts were spinning and rapidly becoming ensnaring, attaching endless possibilities that might spur between him and this woman. He was terrified by the suspicion that he might be feeling something other than amusement and scorn for another human besides Rin, and unwilling to make his heart any larger than it was now, he followed into the door of the castle without letting Kagome know he was leaving. He did not wish to end her fun…he’d let her roam the gardens all day if she wished.

Kagome was too involved with the garden to notice that Sesshomaru had left, simply taking it for granted that he was watching and observing the way she behaved. She supposed he did this merely because he wanted to better way to get around her defenses…and even though this probably meant he would have another go at her, she did not feel imposed or embarrassed by his stare. It never left her…so she thought. It was not until a shadow that was not Sesshomaru’s fell over her that she wondered if perhaps something was wrong here. It did not seem possible. The flowers opened to the sun, feasting on the warmth of the day, and she closed her eyes, willing the darkness to ebb from her. But it only grew stronger, stirring the whispers about with a casual waver of pattern, driving far into her soul.

She made a motion to scream as her fists clenched tightly in attempt to not give away her anxiety, but it was too late. A thoughtless arm circled her gut, hindering her first outburst, and yanked her sharply against the attacker, throwing her head back on the broad shoulder. Naraku? He smelled of blood and death, the scent making her stomach wrench. She might have been ill, had he not cupped her mouth with his hand and held her breath there. Quickly this became a situation of panic for Kagome, who attempted to stun her assailant with her fists, but the first blow was countered with a righteous blow to her forehead. Star sparkled over the white-hot spear of agony, and she writhed while she fought for breath, but her nostrils were pinched tightly together, and her lips ate fruitlessly at the bloody palms of Naraku. Much like the first time she was kidnapped, she was suffocated here as well, and her chest burned with the familiar fire of death. Brief wishes of rescue twisted into confused hallucinations when her head grew delirious and weak, and at last she fell back to Naraku, unable to stand.

He held her like this for several more moments, waiting completely until the whites of her eyes were visible before releasing his grip. Shallow, quick breathes were her reward, but to make sure she did not stir and cry out (he had almost been in a deep situation for a moment) he held his hand over her lips just in case, prepared to silence her lungs once more should she regain her composure. However she did not, and he resumed his backward crawl from the gardens, which now sprawled emptily, craving the touch of the maiden to be returned. One by one…they were all leaving. It was apparent that one by one, that would fall. Or would they?

[Writer] -yawns- I'm so freakin tired...it has taken me until 12:30 a.m. to finish this chapter. But I got the two new up. I'm not in school tomorrow or Monday, so I might even have this story finished by then. Everything will start to fall together by the next few chapters, I promise. Tis all for now though. -scuttles out- [End Writer]