A/N: wow…working, no time…same old same old. I'm sorry for the delay in this story with its updates. It's nearing completion, and I'm feeling delicate with it, gotta do it right…

I am not entirely sure about the direction I've taken here. I think it's going to work, but I'm worried I'm OOC a bit. Maybe not, I'm hoping maybe not. My fear is Miroku really; I can't see him leaving Sango while she's injured. When it comes down to it, what's more important? Their revenge against Naraku for all the crap he's done, or is it one another? I don't know, just, here goes I guess, I hope you enjoy and approve.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anybody.

Last Chapter: Kagome was taken away by Naraku after she woke and attacked Shippo. Her eyesight is wacky, she hears "Inuyasha" in her mind through her link. I'm sure by now you've all guessed it's actually Naraku. Naraku is startled by his own feeling for Kagome. Since she ingested, as a matter of speaking, Kikyo's soul, she now attracts him as Kikyo did. Inuyasha went on a rampage, ready to chase after Naraku and Kagome alone. Sango worked to stall him, being severely injured in the act. Miroku and Shippo brought a sort of smoke bomb to put Inuyasha out of commission and rescue Sango. Kaede placed a second spell on Inuyasha, letting Shippo be in control of this one. The keyword he chose was, "Stop." Mrs. H was speaking to Shippo's oldest son Shinku, but they stopped in favor of resting through the night. Mrs. H doesn't trust Shinku.

Captivity

Early the next morning I found myself blearily being escorted back to our family shrine with Shinku, by way of a taxi. The tallest buildings of Tokyo rose around us, closing me in. Shinku negotiated the ride and paid for the ride. I was so fatigued and overwhelmed—as well as irritated with him—that I made no objections and didn't offer to help in the slightest.

When I'd woken that morning, Shinku had taken away the photo album of the Tetsusaigas. When I asked him if I could take it with me, Shinku laughed at me. "You got to look at it last night, Lady Higurashi, wasn't that enough?"

I hadn't really spoken since then. I stared out the window and watched the skyscrapers pass us by. The traffic was slow, crawling. This was the early morning rush hour. Shinku at my side fidgeted, leaning over many times to peek at the clock at the front of the taxi through the bulletproof, clear plastic shielding. His nearness when he did this annoyed me. My muscles were stiffened; I could feel my lips pinching together with frustration.

I just wanted to go home…

Shinku at last took notice of my irritation, or at least choose that moment to verbally react to it. He pulled back after looking at the clock and fixed me with a mischievous glare. "You're angry with me." it wasn't a question, he knew this as fact.

I didn't bother trying to hide my emotions, and I decided that speaking to him wasn't really worth the effort. I nodded, murmured an apology, and turned back to face the window and the sprawling heights of Tokyo beyond it. Businessmen crossed the sidewalks, chatting on cell phones, a few older men and women strolled through the shops. An occasional bicyclist sped through the traffic, weaving through the lanes and between cars.

"You're angry I didn't let you keep the photo album, aren't you?" Shinku asked, and I was certain I heard amusement in his voice.

"They are my family." I murmured without turning away from the window of the taxi. The glass was dirty, smudged by innumerable passengers' fingerprints. I could barely make out my own face, my pale lips and cheeks, the lines framing my mouth from years of smiling and frowning alike. Had those wrinkles really grown so much? I scarcely afforded myself time for vanity since my husband died. There were children to raise, a shrine to keep.

"I know." Shinku replied, still sounding cheery. I felt the growing desire to smack him or to shout. My daughter had the hanyou wrapped around her finger that way, he respected her temper—something I never saw of Kagome myself. But that temper had probably come from me, once upon a time…Shinku's next words drew me out of my reverie suddenly: "You'll see them soon enough."

I turned away from the window. "What?"

The fox demon was smirking, grinning wide enough that I could see the gleam of his fangs. Nervously, I glanced at the driver, but he was absorbed with the traffic. He wouldn't see Shinku's fangs, wouldn't be tipped to the fact that only half of his passengers this early morning were human.

Shinku lifted one hand, gesturing out the window. "Look."

Frowning, I turned to stare back at the streets of Tokyo—and felt my heart stop.

A short distance ahead, waiting at the crosswalk, I spotted a young woman with bright, shining white hair. My mouth dropped open and stayed that way even as I heard Shinku chuckling at my side.

"All this time you were sitting there thinking that I was going to take you home and never tell you a thing, Lady Higurashi." Shinku's voice lowered to avoid being overheard by our driver, "You humans have so little faith. Sometimes even less than the youkai."

I spoke as if I hadn't heard him at all. "Who is she?" I pointed frantically at the woman waiting at the crosswalk. She had long hair, reaching down into the middle of her back. It was free flowing, moving with the gentle breeze that the cars created as they passed by. I strained my eyes, trying to see her face, trying to recognize something of my Kagome in her if it was there.

"That is…" Shinku leaned across my lap, trying to see out my side of the taxi. This time I tolerated his closeness easily. "Your youngest granddaughter."

My mouth was still hanging open. I had no way of knowing what this woman's date of birth was, but if she were human, I would've guessed she was only born in the early 1980's. She couldn't have been much over thirty years old.

The light changed and the taxi crawled forward as the traffic allowed. We passed this woman—my youngest granddaughter?—slowly. I saw that her face was clear and unlined; her skin had a healthy honeyed glow to it. Her clothing was very much modern, a V-necked shirt covered in glitter and blue jeans. Her hair was so bright, but unlike Inuyasha's I guessed that she had hair more like Kagome's, light and flyaway. Her eyes could've been any color, I didn't catch it clearly.

"Her hair…" I shook my head and craned my neck, still trying to watch for her. "Why haven't I seen that before?" I demanded. If the Tetsusaigas were everywhere, working and living in Tokyo all around me, why hadn't I begun to notice it a lot sooner? Was I really so unobservant or blind?

"You weren't looking, Lady Higurashi." Shinku replied; his voice had grown softer, which made me look at him cautiously. His green-blue eyes were amused, but in a gentle, non-threatening way. When he spoke again it was in a hushed whisper, "You have the gift to see us, but only when you are looking for it, or when we allow you to see it."

I shook my head helplessly. "Why won't they see me?" my limbs felt weak, my head was spinning and dizzied from what I'd just seen. "I would never hurt my own family…" I covered my face with my hands when I felt the first tears try to roll out of my eyes. I'd thought I'd cried all that I could the previous nights, and in years long past, but apparently my grief was like the well on our shrine was at one time: bottomless.

"The Taishita forbade it." Shinku spoke formally, with a cold, distant tone.

"But I am family! Souta and I…" Gramps, Toshi, my mother…the entire human Higurashi family…

Shinku's lips were pressed tightly together. "He has a reason."

"What reason?" I was almost shouting, and when I heard my own voice and saw Shinku shrink, cringingly away from me, I covered my mouth with one hand, trying to start over. The driver glanced back at us, but said nothing. I caught his dark, hooded eyes in the rearview mirror staring at us. When I spoke again it was whispered. "How can Sesshomaru—the great Sesshomaru that my daughter talked about—how can he be afraid of Souta and I? How can he be afraid of our family? Kagome became his family too!"

"He isn't afraid if the Higurashi family." Shinku muttered, frowningly. "It's you."

"Me?" I choked. I remembered the stories that Kagome told of Sesshomaru. A dog the size of the skyscrapers Shinku and I were passing. A cold, unemotional warrior of sorts, the son of a great, legendary general, wielding limitless power…he was afraid of me?

Shinku shook his head. "He respects humans; we keep ourselves secret from all of you, more so now that before because of World War II. I explained all of that to you last night. But with you…" he paused and his words fell away, leaving only a small, frozen smirk on his face. I realized, slowly, that he wasn't going to tell me.

The taxi turned, throwing me toward Shinku. I let gravity do its work, pushing me into Shinku's personal space—if he had any as a youkai anyway—and I snatched his arm tightly with both hands. "Why won't you tell me?" so many riddles, going in circles, I wasn't sure how much more I could take without going mad.

Shinku was grinning. "You'll see when you get to the Higurashi shrine, my lady."

"Stop running me around in circles!" I was shouting again, the driver grunted, clearing his throat, and I caught his glare through the rearview mirror.

Shinku was still grinning, and I thought I detected amusement in his green-blue eyes. He whispered, "I am a fox. What did you expect?"

Miroku waited on Sango through the day and the night. He slept sitting up, like Inuyasha, only a few feet from her. He had only withdrawn from her to relieve himself and to move Inuyasha inside the ruined hut. Now the hanyou slept peacefully on the other side of the room.

In the night that peace fell apart. Miroku and Shippo woke to the sound of the hanyou's growls. He was jerking violently in the bed, as if going through a seizure. Miroku rose stiffly from his position, his joints snapping and popping as he moved, and used the end of his staff to stir up the coals left in the fire. They blazed into life, throwing light so that the monk could see.

Shippo, sleeping curled up at Inuyasha's feet, had already taken up a readied position near Miroku and the fire. "He's waking up…" the kit was shivering violently.

"Lady Kaede assured us that the spell will restrain him, Shippo. Don't be afraid." But despite his words, Miroku was holding his staff in a defensive position, as if they were about to battle a demon.

Shippo gulped and waited, eyes glued to Inuyasha's thrashing form.

At last the hanyou went still and sat up in the bed. They heard his claws rasping over the wood at either side, heard his knuckles popping as he cracked them. His eyes glowed green-gold with the firelight when he opened them and looked around. His growl started up, thick and raspy. His canines gleamed brightly.

"Shippo…" Miroku prodded the terrified kit.

"Stop, Inuyasha!" Shippo whimpered, clinging to the monk's leg and crying hopelessly. In his mind nothing but Kagome could restrain the terrible hanyou and his god-like strength. He was as unstoppable as Naraku. Shippo fancied himself a pathetic replacement for the young miko.

But as soon as he spoke the word, the necklace lit up brightly, lighting Inuyasha's face clearly for a split second. The hanyou winced and fell backward, his body tensing. And then he sighed again, relaxing as the spell took hold of him. After a moment of stillness, Inuyasha sat up, groaning thickly and touching his head, his ears, with one hand.

"Inuyasha?" Miroku called, hesitantly. He was still holding his staff up and outward, ready to fight to protect himself, Shippo, and most importantly, the unconscious Sango behind him.

The hanyou glanced up at his name and grimaced, shielding his eyes from the fire with one hand. "Miroku?" he murmured, answering.

Shippo's shaking had turned into an excited shivering. "It worked!"

Inuyasha got to his feet, stumbling weakly. He appeared to have gained control of his legs for a second and lifted his golden eyes to stare between Miroku and Shippo blankly. "What's going on?" he asked in a strange, hollow tone.

Miroku lowered his staff slowly, pursing his lips. "What do you remember, Inuyasha?"

The hanyou looked as if he were about to answer, but then gravity seemed to reassert itself on him and he stumbled to one side, falling flat. He grunted, getting to his feet again gradually and with effort, as if his limbs weighed heavily on him and had turned to lead while he slept. "I…" he stammered, using the bed on its elevated wooden platform as a support while he talked. "I don't…"

They watched as he closed his eyes, as his chest heaved. When he opened his eyes again his face was a confused scowl. He shook his head, "Where's Kagome?"

There was a pause as both Miroku and Shippo hesitated, unwilling to answer this question. They weren't certain how Kaede's spell worked. Was it possible that it wiped Inuyasha's mind and emotions, sending him into the past? Would they have to hide Kagome's absence every time the spell was invoked?

"Naraku took her." Miroku finally responded, tensely. His staff was lifted upward, preparing for a fight.

The hanyou stumbled backward at the monk's words, shaking his head as if there was water in his ears. "Naraku?" he asked, quietly. "Why don't I remember?" he glanced up at them, perplexed. His eyes were dull.

The reaction was different. Miroku sighed as he realized the nature of Kaede's spell at last. It dulled Inuyasha's emotions, effectively changing him and making him levelheaded. It wasn't working completely; Inuyasha was still Inuyasha underneath the spell. That was obvious in his fast, rough breathing. In the spastic flexing of his hands. His body was trying to react wildly, trying to go on a rampage for his mate, but his brain was not allowed to process the news the same way, which effectively dammed up his normal responses, muting them.

"We have to go after her." Inuyasha's voice had grown stronger now, with rising urgency. He pushed himself up but wobbled dangerously and then fell back onto the floor. He shook his head, frowningly. "Why am I so weak?" he touched his head, closing his eyes, and then blurted, "Where's the link?"

"Your link to Kagome is missing?" Miroku asked, alarmed.

Inuyasha shook his head, still frowning. "She's there but…" his ears dropped pathetically. "She can't hear me; I can barely hear her…"

"It must be Naraku's doing." Miroku murmured, backing away from Inuyasha and moving to kneel at Sango's bedside again. He assumed a praying position and closed his eyes. Shippo stayed on the floor, still shivering with both fear and excitement.

Inuyasha had watched Miroku move to Sango's side. His face remained blank as he took in Sango's sleeping form and the monk's new position of prayer. "Hey," he called quietly, "Miroku—we have to go after Kagome…"

"We are strongest when we are whole, Inuyasha." Miroku replied, patiently. "Naraku will not kill Kagome; it would make no sense for him to harm her. He needs her ability to see the shards of the Sacred Jewel. Right now he is waiting for you to come after her. We will do so when Sango is well."

The hanyou's face twisted with sudden, ferocious anger. "I ain't waiting for anything!" his knuckles snapped, his claws raked across the wood of the floor. The hanyou was on his feet without wobbling at all. He moved toward the door, stiff and lowered into a crouch.

"Stop, Inuyasha!" Shippo shouted, rushing forward to block Inuyasha's path.

Inuyasha seemingly obeyed. He stumbled backward, gasping as the necklace of bird bones lit up around his neck. He reached out with shaking fingers for his head as his ears shot through with pain, shrinking and changing shape before resuming their normal state. He continued to shake with pain as the spell asserted itself over him. Then, groaning, he lifted his eyes and looked around the room with confusion.

"What is this thing…?" he picked at the necklace, sniffing at it.

"It stops you from running away." Shippo answered simply. "Like when Ka…" he stopped short, uncertain whether it was wise to remind the hanyou of his missing mate just yet.

Inuyasha was staring at the floor blandly. "You want me to stay here and wait for Sango to get better?" his ears were turned backward, but his face was calm.

No one answered him, and after a moment Inuyasha answered himself, saying, "That will take weeks."

Miroku dropped his chin to his chest, squeezing his eyes tightly shut but saying nothing. Sango had been badly injured. Her left side was riddled with wounds, any one of which might become infected and kill her. Internally she had yet to recover from Inuyasha's other accidental attack on her. Miroku's greatest fear was that he would leave her side to rescue Kagome with Inuyasha, Kilala, and Shippo, only to return and discover that Sango had died. Worse still was to die in the battle with Naraku and leave Sango to wake alone, without any of them to help her fight Naraku for her little brother, for her ruined, destroyed family and village…

He was torn in two. On one side there was Kagome, trapped in Naraku's clutches. It was vital that they rescue her. But on the other Miroku could see the fracture developing between Inuyasha's desperation for his mate, for his child, and his own hidden fears for he and Sango. Defeating Naraku had meant that they would marry and start a family of their own, but he was haunted by the idea that one of them would die before the battle or in it, leaving the other alone. And what of dying before they had known one another intimately? Inuyasha and Kagome hadn't waited. Caution and reserve were tossed to the wind. Miroku found it foolish on one hand, and on the other he envied them.

If they died at least that would've known some measure of happiness inside the arms of the other…

"I can't wait." Inuyasha announced, still calm, though his ears were quivering and his hands were clenching and unclenching.

"I know." Miroku answered him at last, eyes still tightly closed. "I can't leave her." he would feel no bitterness, he told himself, that it was Inuyasha that had nearly killed Sango this time. Bitterness was unbecoming, and the hanyou was unable to control himself…

But that internal dialogue was flawed because Miroku was human, he was not close to enlightenment, he was far from perfect—and because he was bitter. Inuyasha had nearly killed Sango, his recklessness, his loss of control had done nothing but play into Naraku's hands, and it had nearly killed brave Sango…might still kill her…

"I'm not asking you to." Inuyasha replied, hoarsely. "I'll go alone."

Miroku looked up as the hanyou rose to his feet, "No, Inuyasha—you must take Shippo and Kilala with you."

Inuyasha and Miroku gazed at one another, tensely, both determined. And then, Inuyasha nodded once, shoulders sagging a little. "Fine then." He took a step forward and then paused, looking back at Miroku and Sango with what appeared to be open sadness, regret perhaps. "Miroku…" the monk looked up at him, "When she wakes up—tell her I'm sorry…"

Miroku tried to smile but found that his facial muscles were quivering, unable to perform the task he set to them. In the end he nodded. "I will. Good luck Inuyasha."

The hanyou slipped out of the hut, Shippo and Kilala hurried after him.

I'm coming for you…

Kagome jolted awake, breathing harshly, almost choking. The world was dark around her, night seemed to have fallen. Her senses filtered into her now conscious mind, telling her that not all was well here. The room smelled less of earth than it did of old, musty tatami matting, less of wood and straw and more of a sour, wet stink. Kagome's stomach did flip flops at it. She listened with everything she had, praying that she would hear the faint, steady breathing of her companions—but there was nothing.

Tentatively, Kagome started to sit up, but dizziness swarmed in her head. She collapsed, groaning and trying to steady her breathing. As the discomfort passed, Kagome tried to access her link with Inuyasha, hoping he would explain things, comfort her. Inuyasha?

The space in her mind was sluggish, slow to respond. And then: Kagome, you're awake?

She nodded physically, though the motion hurt and Inuyasha could never see it. I don't know where I am. What's going on? I can't remember anything…

It's the middle of the night, you're still sick. I'm coming…

Kagome blinked through the blackness, searching it, and listening carefully with her mind. The link was different than what she remembered before the new moon. Inuyasha was silent except for when he spoke to her, and his emotions flowed across in a stunted way. It was as if they were passing through a screen, like a spaghetti strainer. Something was missing, something was wrong.

Footsteps thumped over the floor. Kagome felt them and turned onto her side to try and see Inuyasha coming. Her hands, moving out into the dark around her, felt cold flooring. Cold and dirty. Pieces of grit brushed her fingertips. She was lying on a mat of some kind; the rest of the floor was different, made for walking. This wasn't Kaede's hut.

A door slid open, rattling along its track. Kagome blinked furiously, but although she could make out the bright red of Inuyasha's haori and hakama, as well as the lightness of his long, flowing hair, there was no detail to it. She made a small sound, whimpering. "I can't see…"

"You're sick." Inuyasha told her—and it was his voice. Without realizing it, Kagome let out a small sigh of relief. She watched him come and kneel at her side, felt his hand reach out and touch her hair gently.

"What happened to me? I can't remember…" that wasn't entirely true. She recalled being attacked by a lizard, and following Kaede up a hill while Inuyasha and the others fought a monster. Yet those memories were flawed somehow, and Kagome stopped, trying to focus her thoughts on discerning whether those memories were from a dream or from reality. Nothing was clear in her brain; the entire world was foggy or fuzzy, like shrouding mist on a lake covering the rocks that would sink a boat.

"The lizard that bit you, it was poisonous." Inuyasha told her, calmly. Too calmly. Where were the curses? His hand stroked her hair tenderly, but it stayed there, not moving to her neck, shoulders, or her face.

Kagome shook her head, dislodging his hand a little. "I don't feel terribly sick…" she stopped as the thought of poison struck her with a new worry. "The baby." she gasped and tried to sit up to look at Inuyasha's face. "How bad was the poison?"

"Kaede treated you while you slept." He was smiling at her; one clawed hand had her chin, helping hold her upright against the waves of dizziness that assaulted her. "It will get better soon." Through the link he shoved calming emotions at her and answered her question about the baby. Kaede thought the baby would be fine.

Although Kagome tried to fight it, she felt a growing sense of wrongness. Inuyasha spoke with his own voice, but the words didn't feel quite like his. There wasn't the same emotion behind most of what he said aloud or through the link. His words were too well enunciated, and even the specific terms he used were wrong. Had Inuyasha ever referred to their child as anything but a pup?

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, tenderly. Kagome stiffened for a moment, but then she felt the link expanding slightly. Through it spilled Inuyasha's longing and love. The poison makes you doubt me. Please, Kagome…

His hands dropped lower, one rested on her shoulder; the other cradled her neck, bringing her further into his hold. His kiss deepened, his tongue slid into her mouth. Part of Kagome balked, recalling that Inuyasha was often frugal with kisses to her mouth. He was more likely to skip to her neck, her shoulders—unless she caught him and kept him locked in the kiss.

Something was wrong—but though Kagome recognized this, she hesitated. Some of it was denial, and some of it was shock. Kagome's body was reacting strongly to "Inuyasha." Heat rose inside her, strength filtered into her limbs, but the energy was accompanied by a sense of desperation. Longing swamped her mind, confusing her. Before she knew what she'd done, Kagome had wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Inuyasha made a low sound in his throat, almost a chuckling, but Kagome felt a rush of alarm. The chuckling was not in Inuyasha's voice, it was too smooth, too deep. She fought to move her hands, to try and push him away, but Inuyasha ignored her attempt and scooted closer, pressing his weight against her. The support of his arms vanished and Kagome fell backward onto the matting that she'd been sleeping on.

Inuyasha was on her before she could attempt to move anywhere. His clawed hands pinned her wrists, Kagome whimpered when she felt those talons bite a little into her flesh. Desire still clouded her mind, but through it Kagome knew without a doubt that this was not Inuyasha. The desire tormenting her was unnatural. It was as if her body and her conscious mind had been split from one another. The false Inuyasha was trying to manipulate her mind by using her body, but he couldn't convince her.

She touched the link and found that it was closed off, numb. Tears began to prickle in her eyes as she pulled against the false Inuyasha, whimpering. "Let go of me…"

Inuyasha crooked his head above her, as if confused by her reaction. Kagome felt the link swarm open again. Concern poured through it. What's wrong?

Kagome was breathing hard; her stomach was beginning to cramp up. Something burned on her chest. She shook her head and pulled against his hands again. "Let go…Inuyasha…"

The creature above her smiled slowly. His lips barely turned, but Kagome saw, for the first time, the flecks of red inside his otherwise handsome amber irises. The room around her began to clear, as if a match had been struck. Moonlight, thick and milky, was passing through screens on one side of the room. Ink drawings covered the screens—a spider in its dewy web.

Spider…

Horror dawned fast inside Kagome, intensifying her nausea. Her chest convulsed, she choked and sobbed at once. "Naraku…" her body was shaking, quivering with both Kagome's sudden revulsion and the foreign desire that the false Inuyasha had forced on her.

The false Inuyasha smiled in earnest now, but his fangs were gone. The white dog ears were clearly transparent and fading. "For this encounter, miko," he smirked, "I believe you can call me Onigumo."

He leaned forward—his hair melted into a deep, dark black, his eyes flickered into a red like blood, his face transformed—and he smashed his lips to hers, stifling her cries.

Kilala wheeled through the sky, tiny Shippo perched on her head, peering down. He held onto her ears as if they were handles, the fire cat bore it stoically. Her first concern was trailing the flash of red haori through the trees. Her fastest speed was only a fraction faster than what Inuyasha could manage leaping through the trees, especially with Shippo on her back, Kilala was limited.

A flock of sparrow-like birds took off, cheeping in alarm as the hanyou disturbed their tree. In the dark of the night they flew blindly, sleepily, driven only by the wild fear of something as massive and predatory as Inuyasha coming after them. The hanyou paid them no mind at all, just leapt to the next tree in reach.

"How can Miroku be sure Naraku won't hurt Kagome!" Shippo was shouting to the wind. Through their flight following Inuyasha the kit had gone through bouts of grieving for the miko that had become his mother over the years. "He's a monster!" the kit started sobbing hysterically again, big fat, salty tears pouring onto Kilala's head, running into her own eyes.

The fire cat rumbled a little with sympathy as she blinked away the kit's spilled tears. She turned slightly, following the wind as it hit her, bringing the stink of Naraku clearly with it. Below her the flash of red in the trees did the same, adjusting his path.

But then Kilala heard the sound of tree branches breaking, wood splintering somewhere below. She paused, circling like a vulture and eyeing the forest. Shippo's sobbing faded into whimpering as he too came to attention. "What's going on, Kilala?"

A scream echoed through the trees and up to them, sounding like a wounded, dying animal. Though Kilala and Shippo couldn't know it, Naraku had begun his seduction of Kagome, wearing Inuyasha's form. The real Inuyasha was picking up the events as Naraku allowed them to slip into his mind through his one-way connection to Kagome. And, as Naraku had planned, it was driving the real hanyou mad.

Shippo yelped and slid down Kilala's neck, trying to hide in her thick mane. "What happens if Naraku kills Kagome, Kilala?" he choked, shaking violently. "What will we do without her?"

Kilala exhaled loudly, half-growling. Her eyes were glued to the forest, waiting for the hanyou to move again. It didn't take very long. Inuyasha began rushing toward Naraku's scent on the wind once more, but this time he wasn't using the branches. He wasn't leaping at all. His pace had slowed because he was maddeningly attacking the trees as he passed them. In his tormented mind, every one of them was Naraku, looming large and laughing at him.

The link played Kagome's sensations, the desire that she felt but knew wasn't natural, the growing trepidation and suspicion that the creature with her physically and inside her mind wasn't really Inuyasha. The true Inuyasha screamed for her, shouting and cursing, but Kagome heard none of it, and aloud his "words" were slurred howls and snarls. Not even her name when he called it was intelligible.

Breathing thickly, Kilala descended sharply, slipping her way into the trees. Shippo crawled nervously on her back, trying to peek over and spot Inuyasha.

The hanyou slashed at one of the trees, ripping its trunk out. Debris flew around him, splinters stuck inside his haori and hakama as well as in his hair and flesh. Inuyasha ignored the pain and the blood; he was trapped inside his mind, suffering invisibly alongside his mate.

Shippo hopped onto Kilala's head and, in a wobbly voice, shouted, "Stop, Inuyasha!"

The bones around the hanyou's neck lit up and in the same instant Inuyasha's knees trembled and collapsed underneath him. He regained his strength quickly, backing away from the tree, shaking his head furiously. When he spoke now it was clear but filled with a growling rage that made his voice lower and quake.

"That bastard! That fucking…" the tremor in his voice increased, "He's going to…to…" but even with the spell in place it was impossible for him to utter the next word. Without glancing at Kilala and Shippo, he leapt into the trees and began leaping away.

Kilala ascended again, following Inuyasha and Naraku's stink. On her back Shippo was sobbing again. "He's going to kill Kagome and Inuyasha's lost his mind!" the kit buried his face in Kilala's mane and blubbered hopelessly.

The wind rose up, passing through the meadow forcefully, rippling the wildflowers. Jaken had dropped his staff and was digging determinedly in the dirt. He'd already uprooted numerous flowers and other plants, low-lying shrubs mostly, and as the wind pushed the wildflowers around him downwards they tickled Jaken's nose. The toad shook his head snuffling.

"Stupid flowers." He grumbled and focused back on his task carefully. His three claws were coated with rich, black dirt. He squinted his eyes, concentrating. He had never had the best vision. His eyes were massive, round things in his head, like little dishes that would likely fit his own grubby clawed hands perfectly—but for all their size, Jaken had very poor vision when it came to detail.

He was searching for good, edible insects. His favorites were earthworms, centipedes, and pill bugs. Tonight it was too chilly and too dry for the earthworms, but the pill bugs were out, and they were sluggish. A spider slipped from one of the wildflowers nearby. It was largish and hairy, and the cold night air made it sluggish. Jaken caught it by the abdomen and squealed with delight.

He should've been paying more attention to the unusualness of the wind, the way it had changed direction and strength…and the stink it carried with it. But the toad hadn't eaten properly in weeks, and he took this opportunity to snatch a quick snack while Rin slept, curled up against AhUn and while Sesshomaru had wandered off again going who knew where.

The toad popped the squirming spider into his mouth and squished it between his gums, squeezing his eyes closed in delight. "Mmmm…"

A footstep pressed the grasses and wildflowers down next to him and Jaken leapt at once to attention. His nose told him before his eyes did that this was Lord Sesshomaru, back from wherever he'd been. "Lord Sesshomaru!" he shrieked, bowing at the inuyoukai's feet.

"Did you notice the wind, Jaken?" Sesshomaru asked, distantly.

Jaken gulped and peeked up at his master uncertainly. "The wind, my lord?"

Sesshomaru was no longer looking at him, if he'd ever been looking at him that was; instead his attention was seemingly pointed at the sky. He stared at the stars impassively. If Jaken's eyes had been a little sharper, he would've seen the inuyoukai's gaze narrow slightly. The wind passed through his long, brilliant hair. Sesshomaru closed his eyes for a moment, breathing once deeply.

Naraku…

The scent had never been so strong, so obvious. It felt wrong, like a trap.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the last few months, although Rin was beginning to trouble him. She was growing like a weed, already she was several hand-widths taller than Jaken and outgrowing the latest clothes he'd acquired for her. She'd attracted a few too many human male eyes for his tastes lately—she was reaching puberty and he needed to find her a proper home. Naraku had taken the girl from him once, and there had been other attempts on occasion. Could this be an attempt to lead him away from her?

The scent was too clear, too easy for his nose to follow.

Jaken had picked it up at last. "Oh! Lord Sesshomaru! I think that smell on the wind—it's that evil Naraku! Do you smell it too, my lord?"

Sesshomaru ignored him, still working out likelihoods of Naraku's plot in his mind. The demon had made mistakes before, seemingly forgetting how many enemies he had. Naraku was always making new enemies, too. Uncountable youkai and humans alike had scores to settle with him. Setting his scent on the wind like this meant that Naraku had something to gain or…he had increased his power.

Over a year and a half ago Sesshomaru had been apart of a joint attack on Naraku. That attack had resulted in Naraku's near-death and, perhaps most importantly, his loss of the almost-complete Sacred Jewel. Sesshomaru had never cared much for the Jewel and the trouble it had caused; he preferred to gain power by his own merits. The Jewel now resided, as far as Sesshomaru knew, with the miko priestess that his brother fancied. Could it be that Naraku had regained the Jewel and his former power?

"Lord Sesshomaru?" Rin had woken; her voice was deep and scratchy with the sleep of moments before. Over the years her childish voice had grown and changed, deepening. She was caught between childhood and womanhood. There were things that would start happening to her soon that Sesshomaru couldn't help her with. She needed a mother—not just a protector and a pet toad.

It was impossible for Sesshomaru to ignore the tantalizing stink Naraku had left for him to follow—but leaving Rin with Jaken was also impossible. Jaken was a poor guardian, and Sesshomaru didn't want to lose Rin and also find reason to kill the toad.

"Jaken." He called, making the toad sit up as if a bee had stung him.

"Yes, my lord?" Jaken prostrated himself so low that the dirt clogged his nose and he had to stifle a sneeze.

"Take Rin to Mother and protect her there until I return."

Jaken made a small yelping sound. "Mother, my lord?" he stammered in his high pitched, panicky voice, "Forgive me! I don't know how to reach her!"

"Ah and Un will take you." Sesshomaru stepped forward, turning his back on the toad, the two-headed dragon, and his young ward. "Go."

Jaken prostrated himself again. "Yes, Lord Sesshomaru! Anything you say!" when he glanced up from his bowing, he choked with surprise—Sesshomaru was already gone, vanished completely from the meadow. "Well, he was certainly in a hurry!" he huffed, flicking the dirt from his grubby three-fingered hands.

Rin walked through the flowers toward him. "We should go, Jaken-sama, and do what Lord Sesshomaru says."

The toad grumbled at her irritably. "Of course we're going to do what he says! Stupid girl!" he waved his hands at her in a shooing motion. "Go to AhUn now! We're leaving!"

Rin smiled cheerily and nodded obediently. "Yes, Jaken-sama."

The girl certainly attracted him as Kikyo had. Her spirit was bright and powerful, and on some level that intimidated him, but he had hoped to keep her deceived by his false form a little longer. Unfortunately a rush of lust—as well as a bit of a power trip with the triumph of having duped the girl so thoroughly—had destroyed that.

The miko fought his touch now, crying and shouting. When he kissed her she bit his lip, tearing it enough that it bled profusely. His blood was not blood like Inuyasha would shed, it was red-black and foamed when it fell onto the miko's face and neck. It was tainted with miasma.

She screamed with real pain then, writhing desperately, trying to free her hands to wipe away the miasma-blood. More fat drops of it spilled out onto her kimono, burning and staining the fabric all at once.

The minor pain of her bite was inconsequential to Naraku, but the loss of his secrecy took a little of the enjoyment out of things. In truth he hadn't planned on abusing the miko in this way—though it was a fascinating way to torture both the girl and Inuyasha through her. He'd meant to come into the room and convince her to hand over the Jewel to him. Touching her while she slept to snatch it hadn't worked very well. Her soul repelled his evil. But when she'd woken and he'd stroked her hair, he'd felt her acceptance. Touching her and snatching the Jewel was suddenly possible, but so was seduction. The human weakness in him had taken over and complimented the dark, sadistic drive of the demon. Part of him longed to carry out the rape, but the demon in him saw nothing attractive in the girl any longer—just the Jewel. Her terror entertained him, but failed to arouse him.

It might've if the bitch didn't reek like Inuyasha—inside and out. It was the accursed offspring she was carrying.

He would deal with that later. For now it was her fear and the Jewel he needed.

Naraku let go of her wrists and slapped Kagome across the face, hard. She breathed raggedly with the pain of the blow; Naraku smelled her blood flowing freshly to the surface. He smiled viciously. "Give me the Jewel."

She didn't answer him. Her hips were still pinned underneath his own, but her upper body was free. She curled up pathetically, cradling her face and sobbing. A few drops of blood appeared through her fingers as her nose continued to bleed. Naraku snarled silently and reached out toward her chest. The Jewel was tucked inside her inner robe; he could see its purplish glow through the fabric of her kimono. His fingers prickled as they made contact with her skin. Was it the purified Jewel that repelled him, or the girl herself?

His fingers closed around the chain she wore and the tips began burning intensely. He withdrew, gritting his teeth behind tightly closed lips. "Little bitch…" he sneered in his smooth, liquid voice.

"Give it to me." he snatched at her hands roughly, but she twisted, fighting back. Naraku was stronger by far, but touching her now harmed him. When his fingers pulled clear of her after holding her a few seconds, they were reddened and raw, as if burnt.

The miko kicked with her legs and screamed for help. There were a few splotches of red where his miasma-blood had burned her, holes had been eaten into her kimono, her hair was wild and horribly messy. Adrenaline had given her the strength to fight him off through the dizziness and disorientation he'd inflicted on her by way of the link Eki had given him. But she still possessed her powerful soul, the soul that Kikyo had used to taunt him with for so many long years.

There was a way to circumnavigate her purity without killing her.

He snarled with frustration and made a quick decision. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head backward, cringing as her voice reached higher octaves with her panic. Her hands reached out, flying wildly, and one of them dug into his neck. Naraku inhaled once, sharply, at the shot of white hot pain her touch sent into his brain, then slammed her head to the floor. She shrieked with pain just once—her fingernails digging into the flesh of his neck tensed and dug in deeper, then an eye blink later her hand fell limply away. Her body sagged, her breathing stuttered.

Naraku moved from where he was straddling her and probed her head gently, pushing the long, light strands away from her face. Her eyes were flickering, rolling around in their sockets from the blow. Blood still trickled freely from her nose. She moaned weakly, her hands clenched and unclenched spastically.

"It would've been a lot easier if you had just given me the Jewel." He purred, smiling. Slowly, he reached toward the chain again, but when it touched his already burnt fingertips, Naraku pulled away. It was like touching fire. The Jewel had hung around the miko's neck too long. It was purified there and nearly whole. It was actually fighting him.

But the Jewel was only a reflection of its possessor. It could be tainted easily—even by the girl.

Naraku opened the link he shared with the girl, feeling the pain resounding inside her skull, the confusion and inflections of terror. Suffering and loss…he scanned her memories as best as he could with his link, and a small smile spread over his lips as he found just the perfect types of torture he could inflict on her. The perfect way to tempt the miko, the perfect way to darken her heart with grief and taint the Jewel.

He nudged her mind toward a few nightmares, lulled her into a heavy sleep, and slipped out of the room.

And I am finished for now.