This fic is a semi-AU that will touch base occasionally with the source material. Some of the events in the original story will occur and familiar characters will make appearances, others might not, but I'm determined to keep it as authentic as possible while still telling a story from a unique point of view. So without further ado here's a fic that was a long time coming. [Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters or the source material they come from.]

A Cyclical Moon

Book One

Prologue

The night was alive around her swelling and rising with shrill screams and guttural howls, thrumming rhythmically, violently. Beside her, a beast had dropped riddled with wounds its jaw pulverized by what had at one time been a crudely made mace. Deprived of a bottom jaw the doomed thing could only gurgle as it lay dying. Blood spattered and rained, it misted in the air coating everything it touched like summer rain.

Beyond in the hills the opposing sides clashed, splitting each other's hides to sway the battle in their own favors. A constant clamor of metal and bone sang out its turbulent song between the bodies at war and yet nothing slowed.

They had come from across the sea, land, risen from cracks in the earth all ready to die for their convictions. In their eyes burned their lust, hunger, rage.

Despite all this her hands had not wavered. She'd shot arrow after arrow, her fingers moving with a learned grace born out of necessity. All her training, all the pain had brought her to this moment.

Acrid smoke permeated the night from fires left to burn themselves out. The eerie light from them cast shadows that were as menacing as their owners. Perhaps they were worse, these disembodied creatures without conscious or voice, stretching and contorting grotesquely.

Her hair streamed out behind her, whipping in the hot winds that had risen with the din. At her temples blood, her own, ran stickily down her face dotting the ground beneath her feet where it had dripped from her jaw. A hypnotic calm had rested its mantle across her shoulders; A confident strength steeled itself in her legs, keeping her still in the chaos and carnage around her.

It was time to end the entity before her now and she would be its reckoning.

But would it be enough, would it end it all? Would it bring about peace and end the devastation?

The thought gave her pause.

Could it? The question crawled to the fore front of her mind seeping into her confidence. She shivered, a cold fear was threatening to rear up in her heart. The idea of it all having been for nothing was too much to bear.

Tears, hot and stinging, welled at the corners of her eyes.

As if called to her by the smell of her hesitation he appeared at her side. Silent as a shadow he'd come from the battle field seemingly unmarked; she'd seen him out there, lithe and agile as a dancer, deadly and unmatched in his abilities.

Now he stood beside her and though she hadn't turned to look him in the eye she knew he was looking at her. His gaze had weight and pierced with its intensity.

Without speaking a word, he had said enough. She realized that if she had reached out at that moment, her hand could've held his.

Once again, she lifted her bow and steadied her arm, blinking away her useless tears. In unison, they turned and raised their faces up to witness before them what had started all of this.

In the sky, the silent ever watchful moon had risen.

Chapter One: In Plain Sight

The train moved at a rapid swaying pace beneath her. Warm afternoon light streamed through the windows catching dust motes in their endless swirling dances. Above her a voice chimed the next destination with its chipper voice, as if it too was warmed by the sunlight shining in. Beside her a gentleman was dozing, his briefcase nestled in his arms and his glasses slipping dangerously low on the bridge of his nose. Giggling to her right made her turn to see a small girl pointing at pictures in book while her grandmother helped her read it, a loving smile on her lined face.

A beautiful day to be sure despite the bumps she'd had up until this point. She glanced down at the ink spots splotched across the right sleeve of her uniform shirt, the result of her ink pen exploding during a particularly brutal math test. Then she turned her attention to the stinging scrapes across her knee, a present from a fall she'd taken while she was carrying a mountain of makeup work and textbooks through the courtyard. Her knee hadn't been the only casualty she'd managed to skin both her hands in the process of trying to keep her face from meeting the concrete. To top it all off she'd realized too late that she'd forgotten two crucial books, her calculator, and both of her back up sets of notes behind after the last bell."Might as well torch my backpack while I'm at it", she thought," The perfect end to my academic career." It would have been a lie if she'd said the thought hadn't crossed her mind on more than one occasion.

Maybe she'd be lucky enough to have a meteor fall from the sky only to land directly on the school thus freeing her from her scholarly shackles. Wishful thinking at its best.

Her friends had peppered her with questions. They meant well, but that didn't stop them from needling her with heir not so well hidden nosy probing.

The train was jerkily coming to a stop it's brakes whirring and clicking while the passengers gathered their things. With an abrupt snort, the dozing man beside her woke bleary eyed with his hands fumbling for his briefcase, the battle to prevent his glasses from hitting the ground lost. Across from her the little girl was slipping her arms through a small school bag, holding out a small hand for her grandmother to take.

Over the intercom the conductor recited the stop and the ones to come amidst the final stuttered shuffling of the train's stop. Like school children the passengers lined up behind the doors ready to exit and continue with their daily lives. Some would go on to their families and home cooked meals, others to friends and a fun night out, and another portion would skip it all to find comfort in a splendid afternoon nap. None of whom would be subjected to mountainous amounts of torturous school work. "Lucky them,"she thought bitterly andwith one last dejected sigh Kagome Higurashi heaved on her heavily laden backpack and stepped off the train.

"I'm not sure I can do much more for them, dear." Mrs. Higurashi held out a battered pair of jeans their legs stained by grass along with other less savory things and a knee shredded almost completely away. It was clear that she'd scrubbed away what she could and done her best to patch the hole. Not an easy task especially when you considered what had left them so dirty in the first place.

Kagome felt her battered knee twinge as if channeling the previous injury that resulted in the sad sight before her. She took the pitiful bundle from her mom a bubble of love rising in her heart. Her mother was a more than welcome buoy of warmth and kindness after a less than stellar day. Despite the jeans being a lost cause, her mother had taken great pains to make them even a tiny bit more presentable.

"It's alright mom, they definitely look much better than before. Thanks". She took them and gingerly placed them in an open dresser drawer turning back to her mother with a smile.

Mrs. Higurashi had never once pried into what exactly happened to Kagome once she crossed over time. Time and again Kagome had returned with various bumps and bruises, not all of them visible, and she was there without fail to tend to every one she could.

"You're more than welcome, Kagome. Are you spending the night here?"

Kagome hoped her smile hadn't slipped too much. She couldn't be honest about the real reason she had come home. A silly little argument that had of course gotten out of hand and led to her quick return to the present. An argument that had popped like a venom filled balloon, poisoning not only the facilitators but the audience as well.

"I guess I just wanted to sleep in a real bed tonight. Sleeping on the ground sure gets old, and with the summer coming it's gotten pretty hot out." Kagome put on her most winning "Nothing's wrong. Not a single itty-bitty thing "smile, all the while hoping that even if she wasn't believable to herself it would put any questions her mom might have brewing in her mind at ease.

Her efforts were rewarded with a warm smile and a hug.

"If you need anything else before you go jus- "

Kagome pulled away and cut her off not unkindly. "Don't worry Mom, I'll be fine. Promise"

She did her best to keep her voice light, even when a short pause rose between them. Her mother wasn't oblivious and both knew more was being left unsaid. But like so many times before Mrs. Higurashi left the door of her sympathetic, never deaf, ear open, it was up to Kagome whether she wanted to walk through it or not.

"Alright. Sweet dreams, dear. I love you. With that said, and the unsaid acknowledged silently between them she shut Kagome's door behind her.

Kagome slumped down on her bed a weary sigh issuing from both herself and the mattress. How much more could the day throw at her? She didn't enjoy keeping things from her mother especially things as ridiculous as getting in an argument and running home afterwards. But how could she begin to explain it, how it had even come about in the first place was enough to still rile her.

She flung herself angrily backwards, arms spread wide, her hand balled into painful fists. The frustration was back and bubbling low inside her.

Hadn't she come back to avoid this? Avoid even thinking about it. A childish reaction to be sure, coming back and leaving things unsettled behind her. She'd had the last word and promptly cut off the conversation so to speak. But deep down she knew she shouldn't have. What would this accomplish other than more fall out to deal with in the long run, no doubt even now it was building into an icy standoff of "who will come after whom"?

She wasn't above the introspection into her own actions.

It hadn't really been her fault, she'd reacted the best way she knew how. Maybe it wasn't the best of plans but she'd been thinking on her feet. Besides, what should she have done? It's not like any one had died as a result.

Her chest tightened a little at that. No one had died, true, but it had been close. She could admit that.

But along with the frustration came the guilt. It slithered its way into her conscious, as it often did when it was least convenient. She pushed the feeling away as best she could. What good would it do now? All she was doing was running around in circles at this point.

Her knee had started to throb again. By tomorrow it would be painfully bruised, and her hands would be scabbed over and sting irritatingly every time she touched something.

She shuffled around until her head rested on her pillow and breathed in the freshness of the cover, courtesy of her mom's ever attentive hand. It was as if she had a homing antenna attuned to her daughter's feelings and knew the exact moment when she'd need small sweet things like fresh sheets and kind words, even if she was centuries in the past.

Outside the afternoon had faded into evening, the sun slowly sinking below the horizon line. In the distance, the trains were running back and forth, clattering along their tracks, their loud whistling softened an far off.

Soon enough the crickets would begin their night time symphonies, singing as if it was their songs that made the sun set.

She could hear her grandpa sweeping just below her window. The even measured strokes of the broom were lulling and she could feel her eyes growing heavier and heavier. Sleep was a more than welcome escape and she willingly sank into it, tomorrow she'd decide on exactly how to go about rectifying this testy situation. "If I don't drown in school work first anyway," she thought dejectedly. And with an uneasy image of herself neck deep in a pool of homework and test papers marked with large glaringly red F's she finally slept.

Sometime after the house had quieted, the elderly keeper of the shrine made his way up the stone path and stopped before the sacred tree as he had countless times before. It stood as it always had in a dignified sort of quiet, it's only knothole scarred centuries ago by a single arrow. Standing before it as the night settled in he was again aware of an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. A deep foreboding had been dwelling in his mind.

His hip was aching a bit now as it occasionally did on these walks. With a wince, he turned around to make his way back to the house and the comfort of a hot cup of tea.

For what seemed like weeks he'd been jumping at shadows and sounds like a frightened child. This thing, whatever it was , was not something tangible that he could dispel with blessings or purifying salt. No, it was no common demon or ever a ghost for that matter. In truth, he was in no way certain he would've know it even if the thing had walked right up to him and gave him a hard-swift kick in his behind.

It weighed on his mind this blatant faceless thing that left him disquieted and fearful. His grandchildren, and at times his daughter-in-law, liked to poke fun at his chants and prayers. They believed he had no more power than the average tree stump. To extent perhaps they were right. But even he wasn't completely blind in his inner eye.

Now in the dimly lit kitchen it took some time for him to fill the kettle and ready the leaves. While his eyes weren't necessarily weak they weren't sharp either.

He'd first noticed it's creeping about while sweeping the steps below the tori gate. All at once he'd felt as if a transparent sheet had been dropped over his head, smothering him. The broom he'd been holding fell to the ground and at that moment he thought he would too. And then as quickly as it had come the feeling was gone.

His hand shuddered at the memory and he nearly dropped the scalding hot water. Remembering how he'd felt chilled him to the bone. He'd been as helpless as a rabbit caught in a snare. And now, it was if he'd been stained by the encounter, and this thing, whatever it was, was stalking his mind.

Once he had the leaves brewing he lowered himself into a kitchen chair to let them steep. The ache in his hip was in full swing now but it he wouldn't let it distract him from his thoughts.

And it wasn't as if he could sense it always. It came and went like a headache did. It could be as overwhelming as a migraine at times and disappear moments later as if it had never existed.

Perhaps it wasn't something as sinister as he thought. It could easily just be that he was being overly sensitive to his surroundings, that somehow a story of his granddaughters from the feudal era had influenced his subconscious fears. He wasn't as young as he once was of course, things had a funny way of dulling on you in your golden years. And it wasn't as if he could sense it always. It came and went like a headache did. It could be as overwhelming as a migraine at times and disappear moments later as if it had never existed.

He shook his head slowly. No, this was no flippant indulgence of imagination. Something was out there, something menacing and sneaky. It was hidden to him to be sure, but the dread he felt was very real.

Behind him a sudden creak at the stairs startled him into knocking both the kettle ad his cup off the kitchen table. His heart felt as if it had frozen to a hard lump as he whirled around.

At the foot of the stairs Mrs. Higurashi stood a look of concern and surprise on her face.

The ache in his hip flared as he tried to keep himself from stumbling over. At his feet, the kettle was spilling out around the broken ceramic pieces of what was once one of his favorite cups.

"Grandpa, are you alright?" she asked, rushing forward to steady him.

His breath came in short little bursts as she eased him back into his chair.

"F-Fine. I'm fine. Just a little alarmed." He put a hand over his heart sure that the bugger might try to leap out and head for the hills at any moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that. I was just coming down to check on you." She had a small crease between her brows, her telltale sign of deep concern.

The hand he held up to pat hers on his shoulder shook slightly. "A man my age tends to jump out of his skin at even the little things from time to time," he said while pasting on a phony smile eerily like his granddaughter's.

Mrs. Higurashi looked him in his eyes, not at all fooled. "I'll clean this up. You stay put."

As she began to sop up the spilled contents of the kettle and sweep up the shattered remains of his cup, he gathered himself together. It was no good to be this jumpy, especially not if it alarmed his family.

"I'll get you some more tea. OK?" She had finished cleaning and was dumping the contents of the dustpan into the trash.

He nodded solemnly and folded his hands on the table before him. Maybe he was far more rattled then he'd thought; this was easily becoming a detriment to his health. Before he knew it, he might become a ghost himself.

"Now, what on earth has got you so upset?' Mrs. Higurashi asked while refilling the kettle. "You're white as a sheet."

He glanced down at his hands, wrinkled and mottled with age. Time had, in its unforgiving way, left him vulnerable. And now he was confronted with a problem he hadn't the faintest idea how to solve. How could he even begin to explain to her about something he couldn't even see?

She had seated herself across from him, the worry line between her brows still plainly visible. "Grandpa?"

He searched his mind for something to say. Something that would relive her worry and set her mind at ease over witnessing, and to some degree causing, his near-death experience.

"I suppose I've been a little tense lately", he began slowly his eyes lowered. "There's been-," he paused, "There been some things on my mind."

The line between her brows deepened, "What do you mean?"

On the stove, the kettle began to wail. Both jumped that time, and both laughed a little at themselves before Mrs. Higurashi rose to take the kettle from the burner.

Their laughter seemed to break the tension of the situation and he could start again. "I suppose in my old age I've let the unknown affect me far more than it should. And now I'm being spooked by sounds in empty kitchens." He was trying his best to be vague but honest. There was no use in frightening her with a phantom boogeyman.

Her concern was slowly melting before his eyes, turning instead into loving sympathy. Before she could speak he had reached across the table to take one of her hands in both of his, patting it. "I know I'm just being silly. There's no need to worry about me. It'll take more than a few night time frights to put me out of commission. I still have a duty to this shrine to fulfill don't I?."

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "We love you, Grandpa. You know if you need anything at all, we're here."

He sat back and for the first time in what felt like a long time he smiled a genuine smile. One that warmed him at his heart.

But in the back of his mind the fear was still there, as present as ever, patiently waiting for him to settle in on it again. It had come to his attention and he knew ignoring it was not an option.

Together he and Mrs. Higurashi sipped their tea in a comfortable silence, enjoying the quiet company they provided each other.

Outside the wind had picked up, stirring everything it touched in it its path. It screamed out voicelessly into the night, ageless and eternal.

A/N

This is the first chapter in what i hope will be a decent sized multi-chapter fic. As it's my first real fic (the first I've published publicly anyway) input is definitely welcome. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy what's to come. - peachfur