I don't know what possessed me to write this. Usually, I don't go above PG-13 situations, but I thought due to the dark, abusive content, it belonged in R. So, this is my first R-rated fic on Fanfiction. This story could be read as a companion piece to my other Naraku fic "Kimono." I originally wanted a Naraku/Kagome pairing, but I decided to do this instead. Enjoy!
Kagura lurked through the rice paper covered screens that made up the walls of the conservatory. She was bored. She often was in this castle. Who was she to talk to? The other incarnations that lived to serve their master? No. She couldn't. They wouldn't understand her longings and desires for freedom. However, he would listen. Then he would mock, psychologically crushing her yet again.
She was special to her master. A prize. Though his second incarnation, he certainly lavished his "attentions" on her. She was female, beautiful, and also of the right age. How fortunate. For her master anyway.
The wind sorceress whipped out her lethal fan and thought. She was imprisoned here. A slave. Or as Kanna put it, a "tool". A tool he could produce at any given moment to perform yet another daunting task. Kanna, the girl, was his first incarnation. She couldn't understand Kagura's intentions to leave. She was too loyal. On the other hand, she was logical, rational, perceptive, and obedient. Kanna knew better than to wish for more or something that could never be. Her bottomless black eyes saw things exactly as they were. Her white hair shone only for him. Such a little sycophant.
Still, their loyalty and obedience didn't matter a whit. Their master took what he wanted. Suddenly, tears came to her crimson eyes that were so much like her creator's own. Why couldn't he just—
A sinister chuckle cut into her musings from behind. "Lay aside your weapon, Kagura. You do not wish to attack the man that holds your heart. Physically and metaphorically."
He wasn't asking; he was making a statement.
Curse him. Not one night passed did he forget to remind her. Kagura immediately snapped her fan shut. It would do no good. Slowly, she turned to gaze at her master; the silk of her kimono rustling. She could not see him, not even a glimpse of his silhouette in the gloom.
"Naraku?" Kagura called out. "What are you doing?"
He chuckled darkly in the shadows and chose to step into a pool of moonlight, revealing himself at last. Her breath caught in her throat. He was fiendishly handsome with his black and royal purple kimono billowing around him. Naraku's jet, waving hair spilled down his back, framing his blood red eyes. His ivory skin literally glowed in the soft silver radiance; illuminating his striking features. If one looked closely, they could catch the glitter of the pale blue he applied to his eyelids; making his viridian orbs stand out all the more. At present, there was an evil, lusty glint in them.
He smirked and liquidly glided towards her. His movements were deadly silent, akin to a predator. He was getting closer. There would be no escape. Kagura could sense what was coming now. It's what he always came for in the shade of midnight.
Still, she tried in vain to delay his efforts. She continuously did. "What do you want, Naraku?"
"You," he breathed.
She scarcely had time to gasp before his lips descended on hers in a demanding, possessive kiss while his large, meaty hands slid up her arms and found her breasts. Damn him back to hell.
It wasn't as if it was a forcible rape. Kagura much enjoyed their trysts disgustingly enough. Although, she hated the way he made her feel and the pleasure he brought her was worse than any torture he could devise. The way she could despise his touch, yet in the end, perpetually crave more of it.
While one hand lingered in the folds of her mauve and frosty pink clothing, his other lazily made its path up her creamy thigh, seeking to touch an even more private place. It seems that the only woman he could think of having relations with is an incarnation of himself she thought wryly. Arrogant bastard.
All the same, she was writhing against him in anticipation, and audibly moaned when he broke contact from her painted mouth. Instead, he began to lick her ear. She tossed her head back in imploringly: the turquoise beads of her earrings swinging wildly. Naraku had given them to her. Not as a gift, but as an accessory meant to enhance her appearance for his benefit.
She shivered when Naraku's hot lips burned a trail down her neck. He withdrew his hand from her bosom and replaced it in her hair. Fluidly, he unbound it, letting her eager ebony locks fall his waiting fingers. The lavender feather that had previously adorned her tresses floated to the wooden floor. She sighed in bliss. There was no help for it.
"You do enjoy this, Kagura?" he whispered silkily. Under her skirt, he deepened his touch. She could only groan in reply. She did not know if it was an inquiry or a fact.
"You'd never betray me, Kagura," he continued. She tensed. Could she answer that? Should she?
He himself provided a solution to this misunderstanding. With a free hand, he grabbed her chin and made her face him. His eyes were akin to heated rubies. They smoldered. She could not break his gaze. "You'd never betray me again, Kagura. Would you?"
"Of course not, Naraku." Perspiration broke out over her forehead.
"Then why did Kanna say differently?" he mused.
Kanna! The witch. She may have remarked at something, but it wasn't an actual plot. The girl knew this. Kagura remembered what had happened last time when she betrayed her master…
Still, it didn't matter to him. Abruptly, he pulled her back by her raven hair and slammed her across the room. Her body went right through the delicate paper screen that served as a private wall. Fearfully, she looked back at him. She was unhurt, but if she got to her feet, she might get more of the same.
He directed a cold smile at her; an icy smile that complimented the intense fire in his eyes. Oh, no.
She trembled from head to foot. "Please," she begged. "Kanna must have been mistaken."
Those eyes glittered dangerously. "Kanna is never mistaken."
He menacingly advanced towards her and picked her up by the collar of her elaborate robe as if she were a porcelain doll. Fiercely, he slapped her across the face. Speaking out of turn about Naraku's devoted first incarnation was a punishable offense, and so was daring to contradict him on the slightest trace of an opinion.
"Watch your tongue, girl," he growled. "I control your fate as easily as I control my hand."
Fighting back tears, Kagura eyes roamed the floor. He would not leave. He had made his point, but he would not leave her in peace. He was waiting for something. Why couldn't he let her go? Her eyes were fastened on the planks of the floor when it happened. A tear exited from the corner of her treacherous organ, and it was at that exact moment, Naraku raised her chin up. Her master had broken her again, and he was witnessing his handiwork.
"Poor Kagura. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, but how else would I keep you in line?
He wasn't sorry in the least.
Planting one last savage kiss on her lips, he let her body drop to the floor. A white scrap of fabric fell near her face.
"You might want to clean yourself up with that. Maybe you can use Kanna's mirror." With that, he strode away. However, at the doorway, he spoke again. "I quite enjoyed our evening tonight together, Kagura. It was regrettable it was cut so short. Perhaps we should continue where we left off tomorrow."
Her body was shaking with sobs by the time he left. She was alone. Slowly, she sat up and wiped her eyes. Hardly thinking, she picked up the cloth he left and dabbed at her streaming orbs. Hand quivering, she touched her cheek, her fingertips coming away red with gore. But it wasn't blood. It was red from the polish she had applied to her lips; smudged from Naraku's own.
There would be other nights. Evenings under the moon where violence and passion would reign. Except for one night out of the month. Then, Naraku retreated to his basement of horrors. She was relatively safe when he did so. On the other hand, could one be truly safe with spies such as little Kanna everywhere?
Settling back on her heels, she contented herself with the cool evening air blowing on her back. Naraku was so cruel and heartless, but there were other occasions, such as in their sessions of lovemaking that made her feel like she was the only female left in Japan. She loved him; she hated him. She could not sort out her shattered emotions.
Still, Kagura was not blind. She knew perfectly well he couldn't express normal, tender sentiments. He was utterly unfeeling. Malicious ambition ruled his being, and she was only another pawn.
Defeated, she let her brain form the single supplication she'd been dreading to think. Why couldn't he just love her?
Her plea went unanswered. Using the cloth, she dejectedly scrubbed her stinging cheek where Naraku had hit her. She would make herself presentable, and the same scenario would replay with a not so different ending. They would couple, and he would leave her filled with…anticipation.