A/N: Welcome to Kismet! Originnally, the prologue and the first chapter were two separate pieces, but after some thought, I have decided to put them together. The prologue has a very different feel from the rest of the story, which is much darker.

Please let me know what you think!

WARNING: This story is rated M for a reason. The world Kagome lives in is dark and violent. If you dislike violence, especially towards women, then I would suggest stopping now.

...

.prologue.

...

"This was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, but the knowledge that another's well-being is more important than one's own."

― Melissa de la Cruz

...

Dread curled around her spine, twisting and turning, before settling coldly in the pit of her stomach. She blinked her eyes desperately, again and again, feeling the flutter of her eyelashes against her cheeks.

There was only darkness.

She twisted in the emptiness surrounding her, searching for something, but there was nothing but a deep, consuming silence.

Her hands stretched out, desperate, fingers searching for anything other than the utter blackness.

Then, suddenly, there.

A presence so powerful it hurt lashed across her senses, sending her body recoiling backwards in stunned agony. Her mind briefly went numb with white-hot pain, before the darkness returned.

I am here, girl.

Each word was like fire, burning light across her mind, before the blackness swallowed her up again, bringing with it a cool relief.

Here.

Again the voice sent a whiplash of pain through her mind and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

I am sorry, child. I will make this quick.

She could taste the tears falling from her desperately searching eyes as pink glowed harshly for no more than a second, blinding her.

Her scream echoed in the never-ending darkness.

...

"You now know what you must do." The older women's voice filled the small clearing. Her deep red priestess robes rustled gently in the evening breeze.

The younger girl flinched.

Slowly, the older priestess stepped forward, raising her hand to brush her fingers against the scarred bark of an ancient tree, her fingertips catching on the old arrow wound.

The younger girl watched, her skin pale in the moonlight.

"Will it hurt?"

The priestess stilled.

"Yes," the woman turned and began to walk away. "But it no longer matters now."

The younger girl nodded in acceptance, not waiting for the red and white robes of the priestess to disappear into the forest before raising her head to look at the canopy of leaves above. Stars twinkled back at her through the spaces between branches and she reached one hand up to clutch the softly glowing jewel hanging above her heart.

She stared, unblinking, and let the tears run down her cheeks.

...

Again, darkness.

This time, she was ready for it, and waited, bracing herself.

She didn't have to wait long.

You understand then.

The pain was still overpowering and it brought her to her knees. But she forced herself to think past the agony, letting the void around her soothe away the hurt until it disappeared completely.

She breathed in, out.

"Yes."

Her voice echoed into the darkness, until it faded completely. The silence stretched on, settling around her like chains.

Then something gentle touched her mind.

I am sorry, child.

She blacked out completely.

...

She held the jewel in her hands. It glowed with some inner light, spreading warmth through the tips of her fingers. White swirled lazily through the light, exploding here and there in quick, star shaped bursts. She had to admit, it was beautiful. The orb rolled from one hand to the other, flashing int he light. She knew her friends were watching her, knew that if she looked up into their familiar faces she would see the hope they were all trying to hide. Her eyes closed briefly as she searched within herself for enough strength to do this one last gaze dieted upwards and her eyes met amber. She knew what they all hoped for. Her eyes briefly, searching within herself for the strength to do this last thing.

Then with a bright smile that made her soul ache, she stood.

The others stood too, startled.

"It's time," her voice was cheery, and she smiled at them once more, before turning away. But not before she saw the excited relief in their eyes.

Her fingers replaced the jewel around her neck and for a single moment, anger blazed through her veins. Of course they would be excited. Everything they every wanted, the one thing they all had thought about, the only thing they had thought about for the past five years was about to happen. She was going to make it happen, make all their wishes come true.

They do not understand, child.

The memory brought with it phantom pain, and she stumbled. Before she had time to react, a strong hand was on her elbow instantly, steading her, and she glanced up in reflex.

Concerned amber eyes made warmth curl unexpectedly in her belly, and the anger went as quickly as it came leaving her feeling tired, limbs heavy. No, she did not blame them. Gently, she sidestepped, forcing his hand to drop away. Her face creased into a reassuring smile and she straightened, continuing on.

They walked in silence, but now each step brought a measure of peace to her heart.

When they reached the clearing the others fell into a loose circle as she took up her place beneath the ancient tree. She didn't stop walking until her clothes brushed against the rough bark. For a moment, she simply looked at it, taking in the familiarity of each branch, the way the bark felt against her fingers. It was fitting that the place were it all started would be the place were it all would end.

Her hands fell to her sides and once more she took the jewel into her hands.

She refused to let herself to think or to pause, and merely looked up, giving her friends one last warm, loving smile. There wasn't time for the words that were heavy in her heart. If she tried to say anything now, she wouldn't have the strength to go on. She heard the wind rustle the leaves above her a second before it touched her own hair. They would try to stop her, if they understood.

She took a deep breath, feeling oddly at peace.

"I wish to die."

She saw the horror on each of their faces before her world was consumed by fire.

...

.1.

The world dies over and over again, but the skeleton always gets up and walks.

-Henry Miller

.1.

Year: 2112

It was forbidden to talk of before the War and with the passage of time those that truly remembered died, taking their memories of The Before with them. Now, all that was left were the remnants of destruction that remained as a reminder of the cost of humanities greed and thirst for power.

Still, whispers of what existed before were still shared in darkened corners, brief snippets of conversation that came and went with great care. There were descriptions of tall glass buildings with hundreds of windows, and sleek metal boxes that could be used to hold a conversation with another regardless of the distance. Hushed voices described long metal boats that could stay underwater for days, even weeks, and water than could run either hot or cold and the turn of a handle.

The very idea of it all was unbelievable, but those brave enough to gather in secret places to remember clung to the images of The Before in hopes that such comfort might once come to be again. For in the present, comfort was hard to come by. The world as they knew it had become scarred and cruel; violence and anger ran rampant and unchecked. Clean water was coveted and rare; kindness even harder to come by.

Humanity had been purged, and what bits of it that were left struggled to begin anew in the harsh, barren reality the War had left behind.

...

Kagome could feel their eyes roving along her body, lingering where her clothing was especially threadbare. She ducked her head, letting her long, dark hair fall forward, hiding her face from view. She knew that her eyes were very expressive-wide and clear and an unusual shade of blue-and she couldn't let them see her fear and anger. The former because it pleased them and the latter because it excited them.

Kagome forced the lines of her body to relax, picking up another dirty dish. The plate she touched had become crusted over with the remnants of last night's dinner, brown and hard. She held it in the bucket up water, scrubbing at the worst of it with her nails, scratching away to the worn metal beneath.

It was best if she focused on her chores, and not on the leering men behind her. She knew not to draw attention to herself, that allowing her body to curl up in anxiety would only excite them further. She kept her posture loose and reached for the soap rag, keeping her eyes on her task.

"Are you ladies enjoying this fine weather?" the man's voice was familiar and pleasant, but the soft laughter it drew from his friends held a promise of something cruel. From the laughter she figured there were at least three of them, but she dared not turn around and look. She scrubbed harder, ignoring the tickle in the back of her mind that demanded she put a name to the voices, that told her she knew these men. She had no doubt that she did. Their village was so small that not recognizing a face or a voice was nearly impossible. Kagome also knew that there was no point in attempting to differentiate the differences between men. They were all the same.

She inspected the dish with more care than what was necessary, before deciding that it was clean. Placing the soap rag down, she dunked the plate into the water for a quick rinse before handing it off to the left so the women next to her could dry it. The hands that met hers, however, were shaking sightly in fear, and Kagome felt a sense of foreboding beginning to grow in her stomach.

There was a crunch of leaves and then, "I believe I asked you a question."

This time the voice was closer and less kind. There was something soft and dangerous in his tone, and her fingers around the edge of the bucket tightened. Kagome could feel the girl beside her go unnaturally still and she shot her a quick glance. The other girl didn't notice, her gaze locked on the plate in her hands.

Kagome took a deep breath and reached for another dish, a cup this time. As she watched her hands swish the cup around in the murky water, she willed her voice into a carefully balanced mix of cheerful and timid, a tone she had perfected years ago.

"Forgive us, for we meant no disrespect, sir. We were just caught up in the cleaning."

There was a moment of silence before the man chuckled and the girl next to her whimpered. Kagome turned reflexively at the sound and for the first time that morning, got a good look at the young woman she had been working with for the past hour. She looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, a few years younger than herself. She was surprisingly pretty, with long, dark hair and clear skin that not even the thin layer of grime-something they all wore-could hide. She was overly thin, which made her look fragile, as if one harsh touch would shatter her into a million pieces. She was standing with her shoulders hunched, clutching the plate she was supposed to be drying to her chest. Her entire body broadcasted her anxiety and fear.

The girl looked weak.

Kagome sighed and real fear made her stomach clench.

Without warning, rough fingers swept through her hair and her head was wrenched back. For a long second her body was bent painfully backwards before she was thrown onto the forest floor. The back of her head slammed into the ground and she gasped, her vision swimming. Fuzzily, she heard the other girl call out sharply.

Then there was a heavy body on top of her holding her wrists above her head and pinning her legs to the ground. Hot breath skimmed down her neck as a knee was shoved forcefully between her thighs. "Yes," a voice groaned and then teeth bit down on her ear harshly, drawing blood. The familiar feeling of helplessness began to course through her and in response her body became unnaturally hot. Kagome felt like she was on fire and then the man was off her, cursing as he rolled away.

Her blood still tingled with heat as someone else kicked her in the stomach. She coughed, black spots dancing across her vision.

"Goddamn bitch burned me!" Kagome could hear laughter as she struggled to clear her vision, gasping around the ache in her ribs. Another voice chuckled as rough hands grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her and wrapping them together with rope.

"What do else did you expect from the witch?" The rope bite into her skin and hands were once again pulling her hair.

"Leave her. It's the other one that we want." Pain shot down her skull as she was dragged across the ground. Sharp sticks and stones bit into her skin, tearing her clothes. With one last kick, she was left by a tree where the laundry was drying. She struggled to sit, her scalp aching, black spots still dancing across her eyes, her hands bound painfully behind her back.

"Please," her voice was colored with desperation and fear, "Please, we just want to finish our chores."

The men ignored her, and Kagome watched as they walked back towards the younger girl who had obviously tried at one point to escape. One of the men-Kagome was now able to see that there were four-had tackled her a few yards away from where they had been washing the dishes, and the girl was sobbing, chest heaving in a desperate attempt for air, head shaking violently from side to side. The man on top of her had pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and the other grabbed her chin, forcing the girl to look at him.

"Please, please, gods, please no," the girl's voice, even choked with panic and tears, was surprisingly pleasant to the ear, low and raspy, like unrefined silk. The man stroked her cheek gently as if considering. Kagome held her breath, and then winced when he drew back his hand and slapped her, his palm open. The girl's head snapped to the side, and her body went limp.

"Hurry up and hold her down," the man's voice was rough with desire and irritation, and the others hurried to obey, kneeling down around the girl, one taking up possession of her arms, the other two grabbing hold of each leg and pulling them apart.

Kagome could feel bile rise up in the back of her throat as the man on top of her ripped the unconscious girl's clothes open, baring her breasts to the cool autumn air. He fondled them roughly before biting down on one harshly, tearing into her skin.

"Stop!" Kagome's voice cracked with the force of her scream, as she struggled to free her hands, but the men ignored her. The girl still remained motionless, her head turned to the side, and Kagome could already see bruises forming on the skin on her neck.

The one on top of the girl was reaching for his belt, fumbling in his haste.

"Hold her legs wider," the demand was harsh, and Kagome watched nausea rolling through her stomach, as they others obeyed, one reaching out to hitch the girl's skirts up around her waist.

"Oh, that's it," the man groaned, letting his breath out in one harsh gasp.

For minutes the wet slap of flesh hitting flesh filled the air, until the man let out a harsh cry. His body shuddered, and Kagome bit her lip until the copper taste of blood filled her mouth, helplessness making her body hum with heat. Then, he stood, pulling up his pants with one sharp movement and switched places with the man holding the girl's arms.

Heat continued to rush through her body as Kagome fought against her bindings, tears streaming down her cheeks. A witch, these men had called her, and yet she was useless, unable to do anything to stop them. Kagome refused to let herself look away as the second man climbed on top of the girl, praying that she remained unconscious.

She didn't.

...

Dusk had fallen by the time the men had finished. They had left the girl to lie on the grown, half naked and bruised, and then turned back to Kagome. The beating they had given her had left her unable to move, and only when she was half unconscious from the pain did they untie her. Both women lay on the ground long after the men had left, unable to do more than breath.

Kagome was the first to force herself to her knees. There was a sharp pain in her side that made her think her ribs might be broken, or at the very least bruised. She couldn't see properly out of her right eye and blood had dried in her hair, sticking the long strands to her neck. She ignored her body's protest and crawled over to the younger women, stopping when she reached her side, breathing hard.

Kagome was no stranger to violence, having had her fare share of beatings in her short lifetime, but for the most part the men left her alone. Kagome was uncannily skilled with animals and medicine, and the unexplained had a habit of occurring in her presence. In the village, the rumors were she was a witch and most people were too wary to do much more than occasionally beat her. Because of this, the women of the village resented her, and Kagome could see that cold anger now in the girl's eyes.

Kagome opened her mouth to speak, but closed it sharply, knowing that nothing she could say would make a difference. Instead, she reached out and pulled the girls skirts back down around her knees. Then she slowly shrugged off her jacket, gasping as her ribs protested the motion, and held it out.

After a moment, the other girl took it, refusing to meet her eyes.

In silence they went back to the dishes.

...

Neither girl spoke during the walk back to the village, and when they arrived, the younger girl disappeared into the shadows, leaving Kagome to deal with the now empty buckets and stack of dishes.

The village was small and dirty, nothing more than a dozen wooden huts. Piles of trash were heaped at random, some scattered across the dirt paths that led from hut to hut. The patches of grass were dry and yellow and had been for as long as Kagome could remember. Water was scarce, the nearest source a good half a days walk south. Nothing green thrived here.

With a sigh, Kagome watched her go, the familiar sense of guilt making her nauseous. She brought her hand up to her face, the skin rough and cold. She had the ability to stop men from touching her, but could do nothing to protect others. Every time she watched another woman get hurt, she hated herself a little more. A witch they called her. What kind of witch could do nothing but useless tricks like heating her skin? Kagome lifted a bucket in each hand, moving towards the shed where they were kept. The metal containers were heavy and her ribs ached with each step, but Kagome forced one foot in front of the other. She would not show weakness. Still a few feet away from her goal, a woman stepped in front of her. She was older, her dark hair shot through with grey, and on her face was a badly healed scar that started at the corner of her left eye and disappeared under the collar of her shirt.

"The men are going hunting," the woman's voice was quiet, and she waited only long enough to make sure Kagome understood before walking away. It was bad luck to be seen spending too much time talking to the witch, and most of the villagers avoided her out of a mix of fear and resentment.

The men were going hunting. Suddenly, exhaustion swept through Kagome's limbs and she closed her eyes briefly. Of course they would require she go with them, as they always did. The forests outside the village were full of terrifying beasts, but Kagome had a special gift for sensing demons. Another one of her tricks. The villagers had discovered her talent when she was just a child and she had screamed about a monster minutes before a giant centipede demon had attacked the village. Ever since, the men took her along on their monthly hunting trips to replenish the village's meat supply, relying on her to warn them of any danger.

Once, when she was 12, she had deliberately not told them what she sensed, and five of the men were killed by a boar demon. When they had returned, they broke her arm and then locked her mother and baby brother into a hut. Three men held her down, careful to keep their hands off of bare skin, and forced her to watch as the hut was set on fire and her family burned alive.

She had been unable to do anything to save her family, other than scream until her voice was hoarse. For weeks, she refused to leave the rubble, her family's final resting place. She slept among their ashes until the rain had washed everything away.

Kagome placed the buckets into the shed, and turned around to fetch the plates. As she was bending down, mindful of her injuries, someone grabbed her roughly from behind.

"Leave them, girl," a voice hissed into her ear, and Kagome obediently went limp. The man let go, and Kagome kept her eyes averted as she turned around to face him. She could feel his contempt and disgust at the site of her face which was still bloody and swollen.

"We are leaving," he didn't bother to wait for a response and began walking towards the trees where a group of ten or fifteen men had gathered, each holding a weapon and a torch. Kagome didn't waste any time, not sparing the dishes at her feet a second glance, before following.

She could feel the eyes of the villagers on her as she limped towards the forest, their gazes heavy on her back. Unexplainably, her throat burned with tears, and she bit the inside of her cheek hard. She refused to cry here, not with so many people watching. She didn't deserve to show them her pain, not when they all were forced to suffer worse than she.

Kagome forced her shoulders back, careful to keep her head down in deference as she stopped before the men and waited. One of them stepped forward, a boy about the same age as her, a rope in his hands. He smirked at her, arrogance in every line in his body, slapping the rope against his open palm. She lifted her arms obediently and waited as he tied the rope her waist, biting her lip to keep from crying out when he tied the knot with more force than necessary. She kept her head down even when he stepped back to tie the other end loosely around his own hand.

When he was finished, he tugged experimentally on her leash and she stumbled forward, whimpering as the jarring motion pulled at her ribs. The men laughed, as another shoved her, sending her to her knees.

Then a voice, "Get up. Let's go."

She wasn't sure which one of them said it, but she didn't dare look up to see. As quickly as her abused body allowed, she got to her feet and began to shuffle forward, the boy holding her leash at her side. The rest of the men spread out behind her, weapons at the ready, torches held high.

Kagome wasn't sure how she did it, how she sensed danger. It wasn't like when her skin became too hot to touch, which only occurred when she felt helpless or when she was in danger. It was more like when someone touched her and she wasn't expecting it, like a sudden brush of fingers across her mind followed by a sickening pull of awareness.

Over the years, she had discovered that different demons had a different feel to them. The more powerful the demon the stronger the pull of awareness in her mind. Sometimes she could pinpoint exactly which direction they were coming from, but most of the time she barely had time to shout out a warning before the demon was upon them.

They had just entered a small clearing when she felt it. As always, the touch in her mind was sudden and unexpected, but the resulting snap of awareness was so strong, she fell to her knees. Her collapse caused the boy holding her rope to stumble, and the rest of them shouted in anger and fear.

"D-Demon!" she managed to get out around the frantic beating of her heart, but she could tell that she was too late by the unnatural silence that had filled the clearing. The only sound was the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Kagome's blood was loud in her ears, as she stared at the ground, eyes wide and unseeing. She could sense the demon clearly, could feel it standing a few yards in front of her. The pull of it was the strongest she had ever felt, and it was making her dizzy and lightheaded.

Her fingers twisted into the grass. Why wasn't anyone fighting? The lack of movement from the men behind her made fear trickle down her spine. What was this demon, to stave off so many men with only it's presence?

"Kagome?"

It's voice was like honey, flowing down her body to pool warmly in her stomach. In surprise, she glanced up, the sudden movement sending a wave of sharp pain through her head, and met a pair of inhuman, amber eyes.

The world around her melted away. She was frozen in his gaze, and absently thought that it was no wonder none of the men had been able to move. This demon had the ability to hold a person spell bound by merely looking at it. Those eerie eyes swept across her face, taking in each bruise, cut, and the swelling of her right eye. Something hot and dangerious flickered through those eyes and all of the breath swept out of her body.

She didn't recognize her own voice when she whispered, "How do you know my name?"

The demon's gaze softened. Subtly, it's stance shifted, the muscles in it's body shifting into something preditory. It took a step towards her and fear zigzagged down her spine. As if it could sense her discomfort, the demon stilled, taking a step back. It continue to stare at her in silence when another brush of danger touched her mind and her head whipped sharply to the right. This time the pull of awareness was so strong that she cried out. Her mind buzzed with the power of whatever was coming and her body exploded into heat.

She collapsed onto the forest floor as the men broke out into action around her.

...

A/N: Please let me know what you think, if this is even worth pursuing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.