Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. Rumiko Takahashi created the series, Viz distributes the manga in the U.S., and Ocean Studios did the spectacular dub from Canada.

CAUTION! This fic is SPOILERIFIC by nature. You have been warned!

So, I realize that romantic stories always get the most attention, but I was just thinking that the story of Inuyasha is full of other things. Naraku seems like a one-dimensional villain who has only his hate and petty jealously to keep him running, but by the end of the series we see Kagome confront him so it looks like he does what he does without sufficient motive. Like, what was he even after all this time, and how did all this get him closer to achieving it? There was a moment near the end of the series that I felt could have been uber-interesting. It was when Kagome—SPOILER!—narrowly escapes being absorbed by Naraku, or maybe kidnapped. I felt that even though she couldn't defend herself, it would have been cool to see her directly confront him on her own. I also thought at the end—SPOILER! Okay enough of that the rest of this fic is chock full of spoilers so if you haven't finished, do not read further—why didn't Rumiko Takahashi have Naraku and Kagome briefly take the places within the Shikon jewel and fight? Even a little of that before Inuyasha arrived would have been exciting! Though by "fight" I mean for them to sit and have a discussion, as you will see. I like confrontational conversations. That's all this is.

This story is set one year after the well closes up, so Kagome is in high school and living normally.

1: First Day

She first noticed him in class.

That is, she saw his head floating malevolently above the chalkboard, as if egging on the teacher to do the lamentable evil of cramping the history notes the students were supposed to be copying with such tightness that even those invested in the treaties of bygone eras despaired of ever deciphering the shapeless white jumbled lines. He was not sneering, but his cheeks were milky and soft-looking as moth wings, and his hair weightlessly twisting itself, resembling electrical cables or frayed ropes. He was Naraku, and when he caught her staring, he blinked.

His own stare was enough, however, to jolt her into action. She raised her hand and said, regretfully but truthfully, that she had the feeling she was going to be sick. The teacher was surprised, seeing as Kagome had been "in remission" from her conglomerate of diseases for about a year. Other students who had attended her middle school followed her exit with their eyes, some concerned and some annoyed at her act starting up again. Along with those stares at her back she felt his growing presence drift after her.

Against her better judgment she looked over her shoulder for a peek at her nemesis. She only glimpsed his hollow, hungry eyes and the thin line of his mouth before whipping her head back again, for beyond, or through him she had seen a group of third-year girls rounding the corner. She could not afford to draw attention. Absently she scratched her head. When her arm lowered, by the side of her head was Naraku's expressionless face on his disembodied head. She managed to contain a shudder and resolved to ignore him until she reached her as yet unknown but necessarily secluded destination. The halls of her high school stretched long and deserted before her, and she was acutely aware that she was practically alone with him. When she cleared the front door, she felt even more oppressed by this notion. It was as if—

"No one can save you now," supplied Naraku, and he smiled to see her jump.

0o0o0

Finally she had no alternative but to take him home because a: he would not be dismissed, b: any public space she might have chosen, even a park, would be too risky for conversing with a demon, and c: Naraku suggested it. He asked, "Would you not have been leaving for home soon in any case?" This confirmed her fears that he had been spying on her and knew too much to be let out of her sight. So she took the shortest route, passing by business people on lunch and mothers shopping with their babies and hoping none of what he was could be sensed.

She marched up the many steps to the shrine. At the top she tried making a beeline for the Bone Eater's Well, but halfway across the grounds she noticed the pressure had slightly, spiritually speaking, lifted off her shoulders and looked back to see Naraku had not followed. His eyes were roaming her home. She realized, scowling, that he had tricked her into revealing her home. "How fitting that you should be a princess."

For the first time that day she recognized his sneer. Clamping her hands to her hips, she tossed her head in a gesture meant to keeps him from thinking she was intimidated. But Naraku was not to be fooled by an amateur liar. His sneer remained a constant as he closed the distance between them too quickly for her to conceal the surprise on her face. Whether she had inadvertently put up a barrier or he was planning something so diabolical she didn't need to make direct contact with her, he kept about a foot or more from her. This she could be grateful for, although anyway, she thought, wrinkling her nose, he didn't have any arms. The absurdity of his floating head was supported only by a few inches of his neck and what looked to be fragments of his spine.

Kagome swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. This was certainly reminding her of old, old times—the gore of the Feudal Era. Without conceding a blink to her adversary, she turned on her heel and continued to the Bone Eater's Well. This time he followed after her with something resembling amusement. When she shot opened the door, though, his expression turned sour. "I hardly think there is any need for that dog's interference."

Fleetingly pleased he had tacitly admitted Inuyasha's power was capable—indeed, it had already—of overcoming his own, she decided to leave the door open for the comfort the sunlight provided, then sat on the first step. "I thought you knew Inuyasha's name: use it. Don't worry though, he won't be coming."

"Little fool," he said, delighted. "Why reveal your vulnerability to me? Now nothing can stop me."

"Nothing was stopping you all the way here," Kagome pointed out, taking a risk. "You could have taken a shot at me at school, but you didn't, even though there wasn't anything anybody could do. They couldn't even see you. It's not like you to pass up on an opportunity like that." He had by this time reverted to his blank, hollow face, letting her run her mouth. She gave one further push. "I'm betting you actually can't do anything. You're like a ghost!"

Now he frowned. "Ghost? I, Naraku, reduced to a mere specter?"

"And not even a dangerous one," Kagome added happily. "Looks like it's all you can do to zip around making faces at me. You didn't get any powers!" This conclusion, if correct, would bring her great relief. About two years prior, when her miko powers were only just becoming accessible, she had successfully confronted a child poltergeist. It was a little girl named Mayu, and she had proven formidable with her ability to manipulate objects. Then again, Mayu was a human and originally an innocent, while Naraku was—well, in terms of justice, the deeds he had done had no mitigating circumstances to them; he did evil probably because he was just a straight-up evil guy. Stuck on evil, you might say, thought Kagome. She was confident whatever Powers That Be would not allow Mr. Demon the Dastardly to retain his strength.

But Naraku said levelly, "We will see," and the threat did not go missed. "I do not see you using your spiritual powers either, Kagome."

It was always disconcerting to hear her name from the lips of His Sliminess. She shifted her legs one over the other. "I don't need to use sacred arrows or barriers or prayers in my own time. There usually aren't demons running around eating people; all that stopped centuries ago." A flicker of uncertainty flashed in his eyes, and being a miko, Kagome caught it. "Anyway, don't try turning this on me. This is my turf," she said in what she hoped was a firm, no-nonsense voice. "Now I wanna know how long you've been here, what you're up to, and why you're a ghost."

"I have only just arrived, wench," he answered, and though he was clearly angry at her audacity, she was cheered by the unexpected compliance. "I have prepared nothing as of yet, and as it seems I must first test my own abilities, you may expect some delay before your death."

She rolled her eyes at that, but stayed on track. "You just got here? What's the last thing you remember?" When he did not speak up, she folded her arms. The dim and dusty lighting shadowed his face, but she could tell it was still as stone. "This is the twenty-first century. It's been more than five hundred years since we beat you that last time. Have you been like this all those years?"

"Ah," said Naraku. "I had forgotten you hailed from a different time, as the reincarnation of Kikyo." Kagome pressed her lips together and waited. "I was over the well," he said after a pause. "I said that I had made a wish not my own on the Shikon jewel. I saw the faces of all you imbeciles and then I slept."

"You went to sleep?" asked Kagome, setting aside for the present the uncalled-for commentary. "No, you died. You definitely died—we saw it!"

He looked at her with infinite disdain. "At that time I believed I must at last die, but obviously it was only sleep, for otherwise how could I be here?"

"But you aren't here, not really." Kagome leaned her chin on her hand pensively. Now that she had decided he was a ghost, she would reason from there. "I think you died when we thought you did and your soul has been dormant for five hundred years, waiting for the chance to get at me again." The terrible Noh mask had bided its time in this way—why not Snakes-In-Pants here? She glanced at him sidelong. "Too bad you're totally helpless."

"Do you care to try me?" His voice lowered so it rumbled; he had tired of her cheek. Kagome saw him make a sort of lunge at her—it was still in the half-blackness, so it startled her—only to stop inches from her own face, and after a moment float backwards to his former position in the air. His frown was now unmistakably frustrated.

"Don't take this the wrong way," said Kagome once she had recovered her wits, "but I thought you'd be above headbutting." She perked up. "We should try out the reverse!" And she threw a punch with all her might.

She had meant to smack the snot out of him, but he remained untouched and vaguely annoyed. Her fist had met nothing but dust particles. It's not a total loss, though, she told herself. She had been proven right. "That settles it. Naraku, you're a ghost," she declared triumphantly.

0o0o0

The victory lightened her spirits for a few hours. She went inside the house humming, and set about preparing the modern feast of Japanese curry for her family. This only meant dealing with the rice cooker and two packets of seasoning, and cutting a few vegetables, which suited her level of aptitude. However disappointed Mom might be that she had let herself out of school early, she could point to her efforts to make up for it. To her surprise and dismay, though, when her mother did return from her errands she was not as lenient as she had been in the past. Not to be charmed by the aroma of instant curry sauce, she demanded a valid explanation for playing hooky which Kagome could not give her. A little more than two years ago Inuyasha himself had appeared to explain their arrangement, but however much she swung her eyes between her mother and the dark splotch of evil spiritual energy, Kagome saw that her miko powers had put her at a disadvantage. She was set to washing dishes and after that, to her room.

For his part, Naraku kept chuckling darkly when he realized what trouble this caused her, so that the minute she closed the bedroom door she grumbled, "Yeah, keep laughing; it's all you can do."

But it wasn't. That is, Count du Giggles had only the weapon of his presence at his disposal, but he was nothing if not opportunistic. He quickly learned that he was indeed a force to be reckoned with: a distraction. Her open biology book was no match for Naraku, who had a disparaging comment for her cloths, her bed, the stuffed animals and knick-knacks which lined her shelves, and especially the pictures on her walls and desk. It was extremely difficult to concentrate on microorganisms and their habits when she could hear him making off-color remarks like, "this one seems fat enough that the wolf tribe would have a time of it in the attempt of devouring her," or "I recall the face of this young lady; I killed her family, but the brat ran off and it was too troublesome to finish her off at the moment."

She could not, unfortunately, cast her "sit" spell on him any more than she could stop his staring. She closed her closet door, covered the stuffed animals with a spare quilt, and lay ever framed picture glass down. Propping her biology book up vertically, she began, feeling a bit self-conscious, to read aloud. Her voice, even droning about mitochondria and plant cell walls, was a welcome breather from the bite of his. It was not long before Souta, in his special little brother way, burst open the door. "Only grade-schoolers do that, you know that, sis?"

She offered that it was all the rage for final exam studying in high school, then dashed past him towards dinner before he reminded her the term had started two weeks ago. Mom had made chicken and more vegetables to go with the curry. Kagome lingered over every mouthful, loath to return to her bedroom. Naraku glowering at them over the table was no fun, but being alone with him was worse. As she predicted, Gramps sensed no ghostly or demonic aura in the room, and the other two were naturally oblivious as well.

Dinner had been such a nerve-wracking affair that Kagome found her stomach had become upset. She volunteered to do the dishes, hoping the motion might settle her, but even with her eyes fixed on a stubborn stain she knew Naraku hovered over each of her cherished family members in turn. Apparently miko powers entailed spiritual eyes on the back of her head. This, she decided, she could do without. She placed the last teacup on the dishwasher rack and reluctantly, sluggishly made her way upstairs again.

The moment Kagome's hand touched the knob to her room, Naraku asked her, "Do you know the first thing I will do once I regain my strength?"

"No," she replied, without missing a beat, because she had to convince herself—she had already, earlier, hadn't she?—that it was not yet certain he ever would become corporeal, in the same way that it was not yet certain Inuyasha would never come for her again. I have to keep an open mind, she thought, and stepped inside.