Moth lay quietly on the mat that she and Spider shared, eyes closed as she listened to the pounding of rain upon the window.
It had been months, it seemed, since she had last been in that dark dungeon that was once her home.
Moth barely remembered it now, barely remembered the dark walls and the humid air, barely remembered anything, not even how desperately she had fallen in love with Spider.
Moth didn't seem to remember anything since the night her Lord had comforted her after a fit of hysterics...
He had administered medicine that halted the pain in her chest and enabled her to turn from the body of the bloodied hanyou.
Moth barely seemed to remember that hanyou, for he was no more than a pair of fluffy ears and a memory of past comfort to her.
There was little left to remember but a growing desire to escape some sort of trap that she had created for herself, some trap that she could not see, but one that was slowly making itself clear to her heart.
Spider knew that what he had done was utterly wrong, yet it did not bother him in the least.
It had not bothered him when torture was his only contact with this human who so delighted him, and it did not cause even the slightest twinge of guilt to drop a special powder into her drink everyday.
Supposedly, it would send her into a a state of docility...
His Moth would obey him without thought, stay with him forever, not even recognize her friends were they to be brought before her as the dog had been.
But Spider knew that this drink he had given his little pet was something she would one day become immune to, and then he would have to find some other way to keep her with him.
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him with that blank gaze.
It was the most unnerving part of the potion, that the brilliant fire he had once seen within her lustrous brown eyes was gone, replaced by a dull brown similar to the eyes of that boy he had used against the slayer to bring about her end.
And yet...
It also delighted him, for it made his little Moth seem even more of a prisoner of war, a spoil, and it delighted Onigumo to have that faint trace of his old, barbaric life back.
Moth's eyes weren't always a dull brown, however...
Every once in a while, life would flare into them, as it was doing now, she would do something utterly peculiar and unprecedented, and Spider would always humor her tiny whims.
Moth reached out a soft hand and stroked his cheek, attempting to recapture a process she had so long ago given up, the process of dredging up old memories from within the muck that was her muddied mind.
"We are not so different, you and I." she whispered softly, voice eerily lyrical and childish. "Brown and brown, black and black, and my skin will soon be white as yours. We are not so different, you and I."
Spider always hated it when this was her game...
She would tell him what they had in common, talking into the early hours of the morning, and would not be silenced until he kissed her.
Somehow, today he felt calmer and decided that he could stand to hear what she thought they had in common.
"We are not so different, you and I," she began again, "You are haunted by someone who shares your soul, and I am as well. We are not so different, you and I."
Sometimes, her words made powerful sense, and he would be contented to bury his face in her dark locks and listen to her whisper whatever came to mind.
She spoke for hours, it seemed, voice never faltering, until she softly whispered her last phrase. "We are not so different, you and I... I love you, and you love me. We are not so different, you and I."
Moth closed her eyes, and Spider stood.
Tonight would be the night he would choose to fall apart, and tonight he would absorb those ears she had loved so much, as a small indulgence to his Moth's odd little whims.
He left the room and walked away, down the hall, leaving her almost entirely unguarded.
When he was out of view, Moth let out a soft sigh and pulled a small pack from under the bed.
"We are not so different, you and I..." Moth whispered at last, voice keen with sorrow. "You can be kind, and I can be cruel."
Then she slid out of bed, pulled on a pair of slippers, and tore through the rice paper curtain that separated her room from a small garden.
Spider had given her that garden, when she had come to terms...
He had given her many flowers, and a tiny patch of sunlight for them to grow in.
Her garden was the only place on the entire estate where sun shone.
It would not be her garden much longer.
When Spider discovered she had gone, he would order it torn up and mangled miserably.
That was how he was, her Spider.
Kind and cruel at the very same time...
"I don't love him." she whispered sadly.
She had not been in pain for a very long time, but nor had she been in love.
She knew he had done it, and were she to have been the Kagome who had once held such power over herself, she would have kicked and screamed and hurt him badly...
But she was not Kagome, she was Moth.
She was an empty shell, a husk of what she had been, and she knew he was to blame for that.
"Red blood..." she whispered softly as she accidentally pricked a finger on a hedge whilst she trekked across the miasma. "I wonder if his blood is red, or is it so cold that it stays blue even in the fresh air?"
Soon it began to permeate her mind and left her sickened, ill beyond belief.
Moth vomited into the barren soil, again and again, and every time she took a breath her mind seemed that much clearer, and she felt that much more alive.
When the medicine was utterly out of her system, Moth silently picked up her bag again and began to run, run as she had not run in ages, run through the miasma until she reached the barrier and touched it, burning her hand hideously.
Uncaring, Moth took a running leap and passed through that barrier, tumbling to the ground, touching the grass, and sobbing.
Moth was happy, oh so happy...
The grass was fresh and green, and there were trees, and the sky was a blue she had forgotten so long ago.
Moth trekked down the paths, cathartic in her joy, sniffing the air like a barbaric beast and relishing in a brightness that burned her retinas after so much shadow.
Moth pretended to forget about Spider, and found herself far happier that way.
Then she could pretend he wouldn't come looking for her, that he wouldn't throw her back into that hideous dungeon, and she could skip along the paths with all the gleeful giddiness of a little girl.
Little did Moth know that someone was observing her, noting her every move...
Not because of who she was, but because of who she had known.