Assassination

A/N: I am an evil bitch. I am submitting you to the torture that is my writing.
Muahahaha.
Fortunately, you have a choice. You can click the 'Back' button and run away screaming like any sane person, or you can be incredibly stupid-cough cough- I mean brave, and continue reading.
May the force be with you.

PS: I rewrote this chapter, and several others. I'm trying to get them up as fast as I can. More later!!!

Disclaimer. I don't own Inuyasha. Do you?


CHAPTER 1: ASSASSINATION

She knelt behind the edge of the roof, her sniper lying forgot beside her.

She continued to watch her target, smiling slightly at the couple's antics. He twirled for the cameras, spinning the beautiful, white-clad model with him, both soaking in the bright spotlights that illuminated the dark, starry night like day. The couple swirled off an impromptu dance, gliding past the flashing lights joyfully, sending the other celebrities gathered on the red carpet into spontaneous bouts of clapping.

They ended with a flourish, beaming joyously, infecting all near them, so that smiling faces soon surrounded them. The scene of joy and laughter had her eyes narrowing in disgust.

“Enjoy yourself. This will be a night you will never forget. Time for your wardrobe change. I think red is more your colour, don't you?" she asked rhetorically, her lips twisting up into a humourless smirk.

She rubbed the beads attached to her waist, her gloved fingers running over the smooth, sharply-tipped metal cylinders reverently.
She slid her fingers over the beads until she reached the very last one in the line. With a slight twist of her fingers, she carefully detached it from the line.
Slipping it between her fingers, she studied the cross etched into its smooth side.
The blinding spotlights of the gala event below her glanced off of the surrounding glass from the buildings, casting light on the rooftop upon which she crouched for a few seconds, and the “IK” etched into the centre of the cross winked up at her, its blood red colour an omen of things to come.

“Look at this. I even inscribed your name for you. Isn’t that thoughtful?” She asked the still-twirling couple, holding up the bead for them to inspect, grinning at her little ritual.

“I’ll interpret that as a yes. It doesn’t matter if you agree, though.” she said conversationally, sliding the bead into the gun smoothly.

“You’ll be too dead to appreciate it.”

She lowered herself to the floor, training her sights on her target.

Finally, the idiot wandered directly into her line of fire.

She looked upon their smiling, beautiful faces emotionlessly.

Her finger reached for the trigger, caressing it almost lovingly, the smooth black leather of her glove sliding against the cold metal.

She stared at them for a few seconds, then sighed.

Her shoulders slumped and her eyes saddened as she drew in long, shuddering breaths, her shoulders spasming with almost uncontrollable grief.

The sniper bit into her wrist almost cruelly, and with the slight reminder of what she was there for, she sucked in one tortured breath in an effort to regain self-control.

She finally recomposed herself, and put her eye coldly to the laser sight.

A lone tear managed to fight its way down her face.

She jerked back on the trigger.

For several silent seconds, the world stood still. Lights flickered brightly, almost maniacally, and she whipped the weapon up, rapidly dismantled it, and was already disappearing into the still night when the first screams sounded.

*************************

This was the absolute best day of her life.

He had finally proposed this morning, right before the awards ceremony.

She could just remember him stooping down on one knee, holding her hand in one of his, while his other held a small, black box.

When he asked, she had- she was ashamed to say- cried like a baby, before nodding her acquiescence in between sniffles.

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

She sat quietly, watching as he paced in front of her. He had been strange all day, shooting her nervous glances, opening his mouth several times, just to close it with a sharp snap that had her jaw aching just to see it.

He finally halted, right in front of her, and scowled down at her. She simply looked up expectantly at him, her hands clasped loosely in her lap.

"Well, are you finally going to tell me what's been bothering you all day?" she asked, grinning.

Somehow, his scowl darkened even more, until he looked positively surly. He growled low in his throat, before surprising her completely out of her wits by suddenly dropping to one knee before her.

"Whatever you do, don't interrupt me." he warned. "When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. And ever since I've gotten to know you, I don't think so anymore. I know that you are the most beautiful person I've ever met. And regardless of what Sesshomaru says, I'm not a complete idiot. I love you." he said, taking her hands into his.

She stared at him, still shocked, heart beating wildly in her chest, lungs constricting, hope blindsiding her completely.

"I love you. And I want to spend every day I have left with you. I want my sons to have your eyes, and my daughters to have your heart. And I can't have those things if you don't marry me." he said slowly, pulling a small black box out of his pocket. He flicked it open with his thumb, and the sudden sparkle in the room had her blinking, before tears spilled out of her eyes.

"Oh, shit. You're not supposed to cry!" he said, panicking.

She shook her head wildly, a laugh slipping through her tears.

"No, you stupid idiot. I'm happy." she told him, grinning through her blurry eyes.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his lips stretching into a wide, hopeful smile.

"Yes!"

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


She broke out of her memories to glance down at the huge diamond winking up at her from her left hand, sending prismatic beams shooting out in all directions. The photographers had already seen it, and had screamed almost frantically at her, begging her to explain. She glanced down at the pristine white dress she had chosen months before, at the dainty heels, at the delicate evening purse. She had somehow gotten the top designer to fashion her the perfect dress, and her agent had practically salivated at the press opportunities it would afford.
Somehow, she didn't care about her career or her dress or anything but the man grinning at her side, cheerfully tossing obscenities at the grinning photographers.


She was pulled out of her blissful reverie when her fiancé tugged her into a spontaneous dance, swirling her so fast the bright spotlights became a blur, encasing them in an ethereal cocoon. She was vaguely aware of clapping, but ignored it as she stared into the eyes of her beloved. Time slowed and stilled and she knew that all life was in this endless moment, where their eyes held the world. But when they finally spun to a halt, the magical cocoon faded away, to be replaced by clapping that increased in volume.

She turned to smile at her friends, but stopped when a shiver careened down her spine.

That shiver always meant one thing. Death.

She immediately concentrated, her training kicking in rapidly, as she tried to confirm it. Sure enough, a thin sliver of black slid through her consciousness, but it disappeared in a flash. She frowned, confused. Did that mean...the person with murderous intentions had reconsidered or was stopped?

“Are you alright?” Her fiancé asked, looking at her worriedly.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” she assured him, smiling, the thread of death placed firmly out of her mind. She didn't want it tonight, of all nights. This night was about light, and laughter, and love.

She turned again to answer her friend, who was tapping her on her shoulder, but stopped as a tidal wave of sorrow crashed into her, temporarily relieving her of her breath.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Kikyo?” Her fiancé asked again, stepping towards her.

“Something…is not right.” She gasped, her hand curled over her racing heart.

She swung around, spotting a small black figure crouching on a rooftop, a long, thin gun pointed directly at her fiancé. She snapped her head up, to notice the small red dot sitting unflinchingly on his chest, right above his heart.

“Noooooooo!” She screamed.

Kikyo threw herself in front of him, naked fear racing through her veins. A beat of silence, of nothing, and then, with a resounding shock, it hit her. She felt it pierce her skin, her flesh, her muscle. She felt it slide murderously through her. Flashes of disjoined light danced before her eyes. A laughing teenager's face frolicked before her memory, her friends slipped through her consciousness, their beloved faces melting away rapidly, regretfully out of her suddenly dim and fading memory, and his smile was the last thing she remembered before her mind simply stopped fighting to stay.
As she succumbed, she regretted deeply that she would not give him the sons and daughters he wanted. That he would not...that she...that it was...

“Kikyo? Are you alright?’ He asked, concerned. He turned her around, noting with panic the deathly paleness of her face, the terror and agony in her eyes. His fingers grasped tightly around her arms, and he gathered her closely to his chest, wondering what the hell was going on.

Kikyo collapsed in his arms, smiling weakly in an effort to reassure him. He looked down in a burst of agonized horror at the bloodred stain pouring over her white dress, at the neat, almost obscene hole so close to her heart, at the very life escaping her in torrents and waves.

The chatter and squeals of the crowds gathered slowly died down as the blood-spattered couple sank to the carpet, Kikyo twitching sporadically.

“Call an ambulance! Now!” He barked, before turning his attention back to the limp model clutched in his embrace, ignoring the shouts and the pounding footsteps as people rushed away from him, frantic to do his bidding.

“Kikyo? Hold on. The ambulance is on its way. Hold on. Don’t leave me. Please. You can’t leave me. You have to stay. I need you . Who’s going to get me to dress properly if you’re not here?” He pleaded softly, staring into her brown eyes beseechingly.

“Y-y-your stylist.” She gasped, smiling. The effect was ruined by the blood she spat out.

“That idiot?” He said. He looked into her brown eyes, usually filled with compassion and warmth, now only harbouring pain and regret.

“I love you, Inuyasha.” She gasped harshly, sucking in air almost desperately. With a chilling, graceful arch of her back, she rose up sharply from his arms, to subside slowly, eerily...to rest in his arms, unmoving.

She stared back at him, but her eyes were now cold and lifeless.

“Noooooooo! Kikyo!” He screamed, clutching the body of the model to him.

And that’s when the screaming began.

**************************

A/N *Sigh*. sad.sad.
Anyways, in this fic, Kikyo will have her pre-clay personality. All you Kikyo-haters out there, content yourselves in the fact that she gets killed off in the first chapter. I just want to let her be nice for once.
The next chapter will be out as soon as I can get it updated.

I rewrote it because, quite frankly, it had sucked mightily before. It sucks a bit less now...

Titaness.