This is a story of what would happen if Rin had died as teenager taken away from Sesshomaru. But she was reincarnated into Hayashi Kieko. I wont give anymore more away because the reason she was incarnated and brought back are all in the story. Also a lot was inspired after the "Inuyasha-the final act" so if you haven't seen the final act yet you may not understand a lot of whats happening. Some characters may be OOC, but not to far off of the point.

Disclaimer: I own no characters but Hayashi Kieko. I made her up in Rin's likeness.

His lips slowly came down meeting her cheek, the beautiful man with the crescent moon on his forehead. It was as if she were looking at him through her eyes.

As if it where her laying there looking up at him. His face looked cold and hard but his eyes were slightly expressive. You wouldn't know it unless looked for it but his eyes had shown nothing but love.

But almost instantly that love turned to pain. He looked down at her. She coughed but there was no sound there was never any sound. His hand touched her cheek, softly then he ran his thumb across her lips.

When he pulled back she could see the blood. He had said something, demanded it. With that cold face and pain filled eyes. The vision of him started to blur. And before it all went dark she could see him still demanding something from her. She wondered what it was. As her eyes closed she spotted that one single tear roll down his cheek.

Out of everything that tear always prepared her for what would happen next. The only sound she could hear and what always felt like she would never hear again. "RIIIN!"

Shooting strait up in bed Kieko rubbed her eyes and shook her head. She whipped off the tears that came with that dream, that would be her tenth time dreaming that same scene over and over, always with no audio, always the same guy with the same tattoos on his face and long silver hair.

And ALWAYS the strong deep voice at the end screaming in agony and pain. Then she'd wake up, just like that. The first time she got it, was a month after she turned sixteen.

The first time she woke up screaming with the man and cried for an hour though she didn't know why, but leaving him in her dream hurt her so bad it knocked the wind out of her. She was better about it now, almost expected it when she went to sleep at night, sure there'd be tears in her eyes like the pain hurt her too but she always forgot it after her shower.

Getting up for school she went over to her dresser and got out a pair of black jeans, a red tank top with the Japanese word for love written in big, black, bold letters vertically down the left.

She was born in Japan but her family had moved to America after she turned nine. She was already studying English so it wasn't that hard to learn she easily became fluent in both English and Japanese. After all her clothes for the day where picked out she went to the bathroom to tidy herself up.

Looking in the mirror she hated how her hair always curled at the ends just slightly so they stuck out like branches of a Christmas tree. To fix that she always just put it up in a ponytail and let it be.

As she dressed, packed her iPod, and books she walked down the stairs and gave a wave to her parents who were fumbling with her new baby brother, trying to get him to eat. They'd figure out she left for school around noon.

She was actually excited today; a man from Japan would be coming to her world cultures class to show off an old Japanese artifact that was found, to educate more people on the Shinto religion.

At least that was what her teacher had told them, and Kieko would be the one to interpret for everyone.

As soon as she left the house she put in her head phones, and walked down the New York City streets. Humming to herself she started to daze out letting her music drift her mind.

She saw the picture of the beautiful man from her dream, looking down at her, his face getting closer to hers. When she finally noticed her surroundings she was in front of her school already blushing. Walking up the steps she smiled at her friends and saw a very out of place man in the hallways looking for help.

Kieko approached him and bowed when he bowed back he looked a little relieved. "Hi, I'm Hayashi Kieko I'll be helping you in my class today." She said in Japanese. When he took a sigh of relief he smiled back at her. He introduced himself as 27 year old Morimoto Momiji, and he walked next to her as she showed him their way to class.

He carried a glass box you'd see in museums and over it he placed a red cloth. She pointed to it and asked if that was the artifact. He nodded and stopped in the hall, he asked if she wanted to see it, as long as it stayed in the case it would be fine.

They walked into the bare class and he set down the case on a table that was set up for him beforehand. As he pulled off the red cloth slowly, she was in there a rusty, old, sword with a black sheath lying beside it. The sword was chipped and looked like it had been used one too many times.

"I don't mean to be rude, but this is just another samurai sword, America and Japan have plenty on display what's so special about this one that you travel around the world to show it off?" She asked looking at it her brown eyes tracing every knick and scratch. She traced the case over the sheath.

It looked familiar somehow in the back of her mind. He laughed at her a bit and smiled.

"It's special because this wasn't or isn't a samurai sword." He leaned in, "notes from a temple in japan were passed down from a priestess saying a set of swords that belonged to demon brothers. We believe this one to be the older brother's or as myth goes." She looked at it and smiled to herself, only in Shinto would demons carry swords.

When she looked back up at him she couldn't help but notice similarities between him and the man from her dream. They both had stern faces, the same bone work she had seen it enough times in a month to remember, and his eyes were a remarkable resemblance to the man she dreamt about.

"He was supposed to be powerful, and this sword was rumored to be passed down from his father and could bring the dead back to life." He said looking down at it smiling like he was so proud of it.

"Excuse my rudeness once again but, how do you know that this is the mythical sword?" He smiled at her and her heart stopped suddenly. 'So that's what he looks like when he smiles' She thought then shook her head watching him pull out a brief case.

He opened it and pulled out an old sheet of parchment, when he opened it up she saw an almost faded sketch of a sword and sheath. He laid it out next to the case.

"This sketch was found with the notes, also another one said to be the younger brother's sword. This is our proof" He said proudly. She looked over the sketch then back at the sword, ever chip, knick, crack, and scratch that was on the sword was accounted for on the sketch.

"Wow." Was all she had left, and she smiled back up at him and laughed. "Well you shut me up" she said in English and he looked at her confused. Waving him off her heart started to pound, and she felt a pressure on her chest.

Leaning over clutching her chest she started to cough, He looked down at her worried. He reached out for her as she felt herself grow weak. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, like they were closing and the more air she tried to take in the less she could breathe.

She looked up at him and he looked down at her scared. Suddenly she felt herself going forward clutching anything she could find for support. She felt something in her hand put all it did was move with her as she fell. Her eyes started to blur as the man looked over her. All that was missing were his silver hair, and tattoos. And the kiss.

The sound of breaking glass hit her ears and she heard people yelling, calling out for someone but she was already floating. She was dying, right here in school. She had never had her first kiss, never went back to Japan like she was promised, never got to fall in love.

The light that engulfed her was a soft blue color. So she was going to heaven like in church, the light was different than how they said but flying felt so good. Then she hit the ground. Hard. The pain knocked the breath out of her; she let out a sound she didn't know she could make.

When her breathe started to come back the smell of grass hit her nose. She sat up slowly her back killing her, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Looking around her eyes not fully adapted, it looked like she was in a field.

"You smell delicious." She heard from behind her a deep gruff voice in Japanese. Then heavy breathing and a slurping sound. As she slowly turned her head Kieko let out a scream. A large bear wearing a traditional robe walked from the woods.

He smiled his teeth yellow and red as saliva dripped from his mouth. "Mmmmm screaming just makes me hungrier." As he stepped forward she began to panic.

"W-what are y-you?" She asked sputtering in Japanese. He grinned wider and walked forward whipping his mouth with his sleeve. His black fur around his somewhat humanoid face growing thicker as it receded out down his back.

"I am the demon Hinjaku of the forest. And you-" He pointed at her with a laughing smile "Are my dinner." As he lunged, a golden light emitted diagonally across his body. The he slices in two his shoulder to his waist fell forward, blood pooling around as his lower body falling forward as well. Behind him landed a tall man, from behind he had long silver hair, another white

traditional robe and pants, and white fur coming from the front down the back. He looked back at her glaring. She felt her heart stop.

"Who are you, and why does your scent smell like hers?" His voice was deep, demanding, harsh and hateful. Although even though she could feel his distrust and hate tears came to her eyes and a feeling of relief and love came to her. He was here, she was dead and he was in her heaven.

"I don't know who I am anymore." She said her voice cracking and tears spilling over.

END OF CHAPTER ONE