A/N: As the prologue, this is the set up for the story. Be warned of some Kikyo/Inuyasha fluff and angst. Kagome does not appear until the real chapters. Just warning you. And no, Kikyo's not the antagonist of the story. Yes, I deleted Whitewater since it bored me after the first chapter. Sorry! This one should go much longer.

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The Thirteenth
by Viitoria

One. Prologue

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He fingered the gem of the large ring, smiling. Today was the day he would do it. Today was the day...The colored diamond gleamed in the dull lamplight and the red diamond flashed as red as blood. He paused but shook off the strange shiver that had crept up his spine.

Kikyo, he breathed quietly to himself, savoring the name on his tongue. He had devoted five years of his life to her already, and no matter how cold she seemed, he knew she loved him. Which was why he finally worked up the courage to do this.

With a content smile on his face, he pocketed the ring and it's case. Swinging off the desk he had been perched upon, he exited quickly to wait for his one true love.

The taxi stopped off the corner and an elegant woman with long raven locks got out. So enraptured was he by her that he almost missed the shadows move from the alleyway to the side. The next few scenes blurred past him; fragments of pictures flashed before his eyes. When he realized the intent of the figure in the shadows, the gun had already been pulled out, pointed at her—Kikyo. No one else noticed. No one else could see. He heard the loud click as the gun's hammer was cocked and saw the finger strain against the trigger as it was tugged.

He saw the bullet leave the barrel and fly towards the unsuspecting woman, who'd just turned to face the small killing ball of metal. With painstaking slowness, he ran forward, reaching as if to stop it. A sharp pain ripped through his palm, burning. The world returned at a roar, with people screaming and frantically running around. He looked up just in time to see the figure disappear back into the alley.

He turned to his fiancée-to-be. Her lips were drawn into a grim line and she too was staring at the alleyway. She didn't move to see him; it was as if she'd never noticed him. She took a step towards the alley.

"Kikyo," he called loudly.

She turned around, looking at him in confusion. Then a small smile crept across her lips, and she said his name in that voice that made his skin tingle in anticipation every time. "Inuyasha." Her gaze fell to his hand, only noticing his wound. "You're hurt!"

Damn right, he snorted to himself. He wanted to shake her and yell at her for putting herself in such danger without even realizing. She was forever being hunted, and he was forever saving her. How she could keep herself in such an oblivious daze was a wonder to him. But it takes a toll on her. She smiled rarely and always seemed cold and far off. But he knew better.

The crowd was frantic by now, gathered around and pointing at the blood on the ground. She was frowning now; looking around again. "They're back again, aren't they?" She retraced her steps back to him and he saw her aura flare as she deflected the scene from the minds of the pressing crowd. As they dispersed, she took his hand, examining it. She shook her head. "Inuyasha," she chided softly.

The tingling feeling returned and he shook her off. "It's just a scratch," he muttered. "You know I'll heal so enough." They both stared at the ground, the awkward silence numbing all thought. "Um, I have something for you." He fumbled around in his pockets for a moment before extracting the velvet case.

Her eyes widened. "Is that—but, that—" he raised a finger to her lips while keeping hold of the box in the same hand.

"Shh," he whispered in her ears.

She would not be quieted. "But they threw that into the river..." she frowned, then looked at him suspiciously, "did you...?" He nodded, soaking up her newfound radiance as she buried her head against him. "Heaven and hell," she murmured against his chest. He frowned, but didn't protest. It was just divine just to have her in his arms.

"Kikyo," he said after a while. "Don't you want to see it?"

Pulling away, he saw that her eyes were clouded with tears. Tears of happiness. That was enough of an answer for him. He lifted the case up and placed it in his palm before her. Some part of him noted that he had stained it with his blood, but it didn't matter now. Carefully, he slid his claws into the crack, flipping it open.

The shimmering jewel lay there on the silver band, a sharp contrast from the dark lining of the case. It was cut to perfection. He hesitated for a half moment before uttering the beginnings of the spell. "Will you marry me?"

Her dark brown eyes regarded him placidly for long moments, then flickered over the jewel. "Yes," she finally breathed, stretching out her hand.

He moved to take the ring out, but hissed in pain as his injured palm brushed against the sharp edge of the carved crystal. He cursed under his breath and moved it out of the way. When he looked up again, she was staring at him through those cold orbs. She didn't speak a word. She was never one for compassion, and only took the ring lightly from his palm.

The band slipped on her finger perfectly, neither large nor small. A perfect fit.

If only everything else were to be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It's just who I am you see
Sadistic to the last I exist
Only to see the sorrow of other
See this blood here on the ground?

It is your stain of sin.
- Stain of Sin
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Three years. Had it really been that short? Four months. They just dragged on and on. Twelve days. It was just too much for him to bear. Six hours. His lips turned up, canines flashing in a morbid smile to the mirror. Fifteen minutes. He took the scissors from the desk, opening and closing it, as if testing. He glanced at his watch. Two seconds. The blades closed on the first fistful of hair.

Indiscernible emotions flickered across his face as each strand of hair fell together, dropping down on the plush carpeting and embossed vanity table around him. The hair he had never cut in his life. His lifeline to the past. He paused at the two locks dropping down away from the mass; the two that framed his face. Not those yet. He hadn't cut himself off yet. He threw the silver scissors down the table, denting the mahogany wood.

A flick of his claws opened a small drawer, and from it he extracted two items. One was a gun. The other a broken ring of ruby diamond. Both fit snugly into the inside pockets of his neat Armani suit—the best he'd ever had. It was a pity it would be too ruined to keep after today.

With one last backwards glance at the room at the hazy figurine of himself in the mirror, he made his way to break the last connection. "Kikyo," he breathed. A feeling of nostalgia overwhelmed him, and the irony struck him full force. He'd done this before, for the exact opposite reason.

Pulling out of the parking space too quickly, a new scratch was placed on his wife's silver Porsche as he drove away. He ran his fingers through the shortened hair and frowned. His head felt too light; too vacant of the guilt that should be overwhelming him for the deed he was going to do. "Kikyo," he muttered again.

"Good-bye."

He stopped the car in front of a hydrant purposely and walked into the large building. "Yura," he smiled his most charming at the staring receptionist.

"You cut your hair!" she accused, looking in absolute horror. "How could you? The, hair, the—"

"Kikyo?" he interrupted. He was getting to the point of almost annoying himself when the name left his mouth.

The woman took in his attitude and instantly resumed an uncaring manner. "Third floor, the fifth door on the right." Then her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Can't a husband drop his wife a visit at work sometime?" he reproached teasingly. Yet the hard underline of his tone told the oni otherwise.

"Honeymoon visit, huh?'

His perfectly chiseled lips pulled back into a feral grin. "You could say that." Without another word, he took off on the stairs. When Yura next saw the hanyou, he was dragging Kikyo with him out the door rather forcibly. The usually silent and cool miko seemed overly flustered; even worried. There was something wrong with the scene. Horribly wrong.

"Where are we going?" Kikyo asked after she'd regained her composure and they'd been driving for sometime. Her demure mask in place, she stared at him in long sidelong glances. They'd started off half an hour ago in a direction they hadn't gone in over three years. Three years.

And he had cut his hair; that in itself told her something was wrong. Very wrong. She knew he knew about all her little secrets, but he'd never brought any of them up. She didn't either. When at last they pulled up in front of a well-worn curb, she could detect a strange glint in his eyes.

"Out," he directed forcibly, slamming is own door. She obeyed in stone cold silence. "Recognize this place?"

She looked around, noting the dark alleyway. It came back instantly. "Come on," he crooked a finger for her to follow him into the shadows. She saw him watching for her reaction—there was none.

"Come," he repeated, louder.

"What are we doing here?" she demanded, scanning around.

He continued staring at her; that strange grin he'd developed of late on his lips again. "You should know," he told her, hands open in peace offering. "After all, this is the place were you broke my heart. Thrice." Three times. For some reason, that was important.

She was backed up against the wall now. What did he want? She asked this aloud.

"What I want," he repeated, still smiling. Then he leaned down and kissed her. Hard. His lips bruised her just as his tongue swept through her mouth. Caught off guard, but knowing fully well this mood, she responded wonderfully, lifting her arms to wrap around his neck. He broke off. "No, I don't think so." He pulled her hands off him and planted them at her sides. He smiled. "Better."

That said, he began a kiss anew, trailing down to her neck. "It's a pity one can't rape one's own wife," he murmured, nuzzling the soft skin there.

"What?" Her breath came in short gasps. If she knew he was capable of this, then she wouldn't have...

"Oh, you know," he continued. "It wouldn't be as satisfying since I've had you already. She felt him move to reach for something, but she couldn't move. Something cold replaced his lips on her neck. The muzzle of a gun. Her heart quickened in fear.

"Why Inuyasha, why?"

He was still smirking. "Really now, Kikyo, you should know. Of all the time I caught you with him, I kept silent. And then the others—why? You should be the one telling me."

She was pressed against the wall the now, making soft whimpering sound. That wouldn't help her. "I don't know...Inuyasha, please." The muzzle of the gun moved down, stopping above her left breast.

"Why?" he asked again. Her question. "You broke my heart; I don't see why I can't break yours." The hammer was cocked, and knowing him, his finger was already touching the trigger. "And Naraku—I believe his name was, no?—wasn't shooting at you that day, was he now? He was shooting for me; he knew." He paused for dramatic effect. "And I wonder why he knew that I was going to propose to you."

She nodded agreement. Smiling, she reached up, ignoring the gun still pressed between them and pulled him into a another kiss. Caught off guard, his grip loosened slightly on the gun. With a small movement of her torso, the weapon dropped to the floor. "You forgot what I used to be," she told him.

"You had this all planned out, didn't you?" His voice faltered, cracking slightly. He noticed that she had dropped the helpless mask.

"I did," she said nonchalantly, staring at the gun. "It was for your own good," she told him.

He stared at her, emotions raging dangerously across his face. Then a small spark of acceptance settled and grew. "Betraying me and killing me was for my own good? Disappearing at the wedding—with another man—was for my own good? Seeing Naraku after we were married was for my own good!?"

She shrugged. "Yes."

He nodded. "Okay," he said, raising his hands up in surrender. "I don't know what got into me. If you did it all for my good, then I'll have to change the reasons I have for killing you." He kicked the gun up to his hands. "That bullet—on the day I proposed, was meant for you. I'll just let him find you again." He turned around and stormed off. She heard the car wheels screech as it left.

Kikyo stood silently. He'd come back for her; she knew it. She never should have fallen in love with him in the first place; their kinds didn't mix. Never mixed. They were meant to hunt each other to extinction, even in this ignorant modern world. She pulled out her own firearm, staring at it in contemplation. The jewel...

The engine of an approaching car drowned out her side thoughts and she closed her mind to everything except what she'd been trained to do since birth. What all her kind were trained to do. The gun was cocked already and she raised it, watching in the quiet as the car doors slammed open and the silhouette appeared the entrance.

"Kikyo, I'm so—" His apology was shoved back down his throat as his vision fell on the gun aimed at his brain. His eyes glazed over, a tinge of blood appearing at his pupils. The first bullet shot past his right ear, tearing it ever so slightly. Exactly where she had wanted it. Her aim was immaculate, as always. He moved just in time to see the second bullet tear at the sleeve of his shirt, drawing blood where it had skimmed and broken his skin. If she was going to fire the killing shot, she would have done so already. But she hadn't, and that gave him the small advantage he needed.

With inhuman speed, he was by her side and the cold muzzle of steel touching his temple. He smelled her resolute decision and knew she would press it this time. Yet there was a streak of indecision as well. He took the chance to move his own defense mechanism to offense.

Her eyes narrowed as the arm snaked around to her back. "You'll die before I do," she accused. The pressing steel at the small of her back pushed against her uncomfortably.

"Perhaps."

Then she saw it. His eyes...they weren't the eyes of the man she'd known and loved for eight years. They weren't human anymore. While she'd faced down plenty of full demons much more dangerous than him, she'd never tried killing something so mixed. Love and Hate. Human and Demon. More demon.

She lost what chance she had in her thoughts and the killing machine that was growing before her saw. Without realizing it, the gun was taken from her. No, she pleaded silently. Don't do it.

It was almost as if he heard her thoughts. "Kikyo," he smirked. The voice wasn't really his. It was, but it wasn't. He laughed and continued. "It won't help you, Kikyo, no matter what you do. Because you're not going to be alive to do it anymore."

She felt the searing pain before she heard the noise. And then she was on the ground, lying there, helplessly watching as her life's blood drained away from her. The bastard hadn't shot her where he knew she would die instantly. No, he'd opted to let her die slowly, as all sadistic men are to do.

Something dropped in front of her blurring vision. The ring. The one I took off after that night... A pair of feet appeared and clawed fingers bent to retrieve the lost item. "Oops," she heard him say. "Can't let you have that, can we now?"

Then he walked away. No turning back, no last whisper of her name. The man who killed her. Her friend. Her lover. Her husband. Her killer. And she was his First, and always would be.

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Inuyasha stared off at the sunset, the remains of his platinum hair brushing his shoulders as the wind blew. The blood red moon stared back at him, reflected solemnly in his red-gold orbs. He removed his outer suit, studying the bloodstain there. He knew it would happen, all more was the pity. It had to happen sometime. He had fought it; they had both fought it. But at the end...

After all, what did a wife compare to an outfit? There could always be more. More blood, more deaths. More trodden hearts. He smiled.

A/N: The prologue and dawning of my new Project fic: The Thirteenth. I actually started this project some time ago, around the 5th chapter of Genuine Fake, but didn't have the heart to post it until now. As stated before, Kagome's appearing next chapter. Anyone want to take a guess at the title and why I called it that?

Ah well. Hope you liked it, morbid as it seems. Yes, I wrote the poem. You can see the full version at my site, under 'The Thirteenth'. And yes it's still InuKag like I said in the summary. And yes, I wrote the poem, thoug that's not the entire thing. Remember to review!