Kagome was fighting a losing battle. Not with Sesshoumaru, but with herself. No, Sesshoumaru was all but forgotten as her body shifted into unexplainable instinct and skill, fighting with a verve she had yet to learn herself. It was muscle memory in a body too young to have muscle memory, instinct in a soul too new to have honed such things.
And amidst all of that, there was darkness.
It creeped along her spine, singing a song of conquest and power and seduction to her young heart. A heart that yearned to be bigger and stronger and more beautiful, that yearned to prove itself to a family that seemed both hesitant and eager to accept her in equal measure.
And there was singing.
The child inside the darkness could hear a woman singing a lullaby, a tone so soft and warm it built an ache inside her she'd never felt before—and she yearned for that just as much as she did for the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her.
The soul inside the child inside the darkness trembled. It had not come this far, fought so much despair and ruin and death, to be trapped into the games of the monsters she'd wished away-but she was as helpless to make the child choose light over dark as the child was to remember the woman who sang her lullaby. And so the soul hummed the lullaby too until it was all the child could hear as the darkness fought for her heart.
Dark Kagome smirked at Sesshoumaru, an expression too ancient and leering for a face usually so innocent and smiling, amused at the struggle within her soul. The gods had created a perfect monster in this child of light who craved so much attention she'd turn to the darkness for power when it was not received. She whispered to the trembling soul inside the child, to the child inside the darkness, and told them of all the conquest and blood and death a dark miko could bring—of all the power that would make her feared and respected so she would never crave, or resent, the family she could never have again.
And when the child inside the darkness began to curl into herself, she smiled and formed a bow out of dark purity and aimed it at the young beast who did not want the child inside of her.
o.O.o
Word Count – 403
a/n – for anyone wondering how little 'gome suddenly knows how to fight