"All I wanted was to go home."

Naraku smiles at her. He's got a beautiful set of teeth, white and straight and unnaturally perfect, but his hair is as black as the darkness around them. In her eyes, he is fading out…or is he merely fading in? His tentacles are centimeters from piercing her throat but both of them know the effort is futile. A forever perpetuating battle is the same as no battle at all. Being a second generation Naohi and Magatsuhi, trapped in the eternal battleground of the jewel, they are awarded this much wisdom. Regardless, Naraku has never had an issue with shedding a little blood. And Kagome likes to keep up pretenses.

Kagome draws her bow in an arc, deteriorating his tentacles into a light shower of black mist. In the blackness of this jewel world, she draws back behind a mass of white souls and plucks an arrow from her quiver. The pure light that sparks from the tip of the arrowhead highlights that aristocratic nose as he charges at her with a cloud of black energy.

Kagome doesn't know how long they've been fighting. Long enough for the beginning to be a memory but short enough for the pain to remain fresh. He is who she was born to fight. He is her destined. The humiliation of it still stings. But it doesn't reduce her to tears anymore, only makes her want to wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze.

Her heart pangs at that thought and she flinches. It's all the hesitation Naraku needs. His tentacles withdraw into himself and he grabs her with his hands, fingers weaving into her hair and jerking her head back. She feels his other hand pierce her stomach. Familiar blood drips from her lips. She looks up into his eyes to find him smiling.

She licks her lips. Her heart flutters when his eyes draw down, but she is angry enough that it doesn't matter. She leans close, breathing harshly into his face so that he can't avoid her. "I never wanted to be with someone like you."

"But you are."

She jumps, because he has never responded before. He leans close and his hot breath puffs along her bared neck, along the ridged column of her throat. "You are with me, and there has never been anyone else."

He bites a string of corded muscle and lush heat rises to her skin.

"No!" Kagome grabs his shoulders and pushes. Huge spirals of light shoot from her palms and he is blown away, trails of black mist following his descent. He skids to the ground a few feet away. Kagome puts a hand to her stomach, feeling the hole fill and solidify, then grips her bow tighter between sweaty fingers.

"You bastard," Kagome hisses as he slowly rises to his feet, brushing off dusty remains of his body.

He chuckles. "Then tell me, miko, who else?" Unexpectedly, his expression turns stony, his eyes narrow. "Who else?"

Kagome feels her heart pang again. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. There is someone, she is sure. There is someone, a name buried in her chest. But the darkness is too suffocating. It presses everything away. There is nothing left to remember but an aching, empty void, and a vicious need to fill it again.

Naraku is smiling again. A flash of white, filling up the darkness. She wants to take that smile and swallow it. Tentacles began to sprout along his body, winding and writhing in anticipation.

"See? No one. You'll accept it, soon enough. I have."

"Shut up," Kagome spits. "I never wanted you." She spins her bow wildly as Naraku's tentacles attack, creating a shield of rippling pure white. Their eyes, however, remain locked.

"All I wanted was to go home."

But Kagome knows, in her heart, that it is an old mantra.

This is home.