Author's Notes: Hey guys! It's been a while, and I've come up with a new story. This is my very first ongoing story, and I hope to write one for Sailor Moon as well (I'm already in the process of writing a chapter version of Over His Desk, so for those of you who are anticipating that, please be patient). I hope this goes well, I'm kind of nervous. Anyway, I'll try to update often. Well, enjoy! Don't forget to review!

Prologue

Rebirth

It was fun.

I enjoyed watching them squirm with fear, worrisome expressions plastered on their faces. Of course, it wasn't like I could do any real damage―not that I would. The one that I wanted had been dead for centuries, but I would settle for torturing her descendents. For sure, they were all innocent in every sense of the word...but as long as they were related to her, I couldn't seem to help myself.

In that wrinkly old man, I found her rare yet whacky sense of humour. In the middle-aged woman, I found her kind smile. In the man of the house, I saw her determination. I saw her no matter what I did. This shrine was filled with her memories, her features scattered among these people who were her family. It enraged me to know that she still lived on, while I was stuck in this world as a fleeting spirit with no escape.

But then something strange happened.

The woman suddenly announced that she was with child. As if that weren't enough of a surprise, I could no longer bring myself to cause mischief around the shrine. I felt a strange connection to the child inside her womb, almost as if I knew it.

But everything I touched, everything around me was destined to be cursed. The man suddenly died, leaving his pregnant wife and elderly father to fend for themselves. The woman went into early labour, and found herself with a premature newborn daughter. It was then that I realized why I changed.

Kikyo.

That child. Even as an infant, I could see Kikyo in her. I never believed in reincarnation or a second life, but if this child was not Kikyo reincarnated then it was just eerie how similar they were. The child held a similar spiritual aura―only Kikyo had possessed such a powerful aura. I stood in front of the ancient God Tree, my final resting place, and watched as this family tried to rebuild itself. Years went by and the rift left behind by the dead husband slowly began to close. The child was a blessing, the old man said, destined to bring joy and happiness into a family that was about to be torn apart by death and sorrow.

They named the child Kagome, but for whatever reasons I was not sure of. It was a peculiar name, for she was always teased for it by the other children. There were times when I could have attempted to help her out of her sorrow, prevented a fall, or a gentle caress of the wind. But Kagome looked too much like her.

Then, one day, at five years old, Kagome ran towards the God Tree. Her mother called out to her, saying that she should come inside for it was getting cold out. The child ignored her mother's pleas, however, and proceeded to approach the large tree that stood grand and tall, looming over her ultra tiny figure. Then, she lifted her stubby little arms and wrapped them around the base of the tree.

"You're not alone, anymore."

And just like that, Kagome and I were connected.