First Fic, probably one shot. I'm too lazy to continue. I always am. Unless....I get reviews. :3

Oh c'mon! ;; I write this long thing, and if someone can't bother to type a few C&C...then what about other authors? -wrinkles nose-

Anyway...on with the story, but before that...disclaimer. Heck, this is only one chapter....

Diclaimer: I do not own...Inuyasha. But I SHALL OWN NECOYASHA. 3333

Italics : Thoughts

Bold : Anything I like.

Trust No One

Chapter 1

Rain

Rain.

Rain trickled down the sloped roof, splashed onto the soil. A girl with raven-coloured, braided hair sat with her back straight, her dress settled neatly on her thin thighs. Her slender small hands rested in her lap. They soon came carefully up to a crystallized ruby-coloured rock hanging about her neck, and began to finger it gently. Gray rain continued to dribble down the rice-paper doors and she continued to watch it absent-mindedly. Her luminous eyes were bright and intelligent, and although she looked oblivious of everything around her, she was actually anxiously awaiting her father to call her.

War had come into these lands. Not war actually, slaughter. She had overheard that beautiful and slender people were preying on the people; her people. They weilded nothing, just that they were underestimated by all--made many soldiers take them for granted. Take them for granted until their heads were sliced off. Only eight, her father had to leave to deal with these monsters. She was assigned to lead the people, as young as she was and protect them. Not even old enough to leave her mother to marry, many others doubted 'that foolish waif.' Her father had punished those that were caught, sent them to a small leaky house. She dared not go in there, as curious as she was. Shrieks and wails-- no matter how much she struggled to shut the sounds out, vibrated within her heart. Not her ears. Indeed, she was no more than a orphan. That's what some called motherless children. Her father hardly even saw, much less talked to her, and now she was anticipating this event.

Rain.

"Kagome." A firm and commanding voice called her name. At first she thought it was some other calling her, no one that important. For she regularly did not hear her father's voice. However, the authority that was easily tangible raised her and led her to her father's quarters. A small blue mat adorned with red cranes and gold trees was slightly squashed and wrinkled. It was obvious someone else had been here already. For a moment or two, she pondered who could have come, but hearing a polite grunt from her father, she immediately came to look up at him.

Her large gray eyes were not a typical color of her people, usually of brown or black. Her gray eyes were pale, and some mistook it for the color of light blue. Now those same eyes rose to meet her fathers face. An old man probably in his early sixties, she was the daughter of his seventh wife. The wife believed dead. And some blessed her mother for seven was a lucky number among the Shikon (Don't ask.) nation. But in this case, it was not so. Not at all. A mass of wrinkles surrounded his eyes, they did not resemble hers. She had been told that her mother, Nari, had had her eyes. His expression was grim, although they were trying hard to appear confident. This resulted in his lips spread wide, it was hard to think whether he was frowning or smiling. Though when you saw the furrow that had taut his brow, you'd immediately make up your mind. And so did Kagome. Curtsying and addressing him as your 'Exalted Majesty,' she lowered herself rather uneasily and more clumsily than other days. Biting her lips, a strand of hair came down before her blue-gray eyes, but she did not brush it away and sat with her legs folded. Hands were reflexively settled on her thighs, though she had a desire to reach out and unmar the creases in his face. He was handsome, and some said she was just plain ugly. Oh well, nothing from her father then.

"Kagome." She could hear trembling in his voice, but only vaguely. His voice was deep and low, somewhat husky so usually emotions could be hidden under his voice. However, his voice continued to falter, and as he went on to speak, she could hear it break.

"Kagome," He repeated. "I sincerely apologize for not getting to--," He stopped abruptly. She could see his face break, he was obviously extremely troubled. "May I speak...," He tried to grasp a suitable word for how he wanted to be around Kagome, but failed and lost all his dignity. "informally to you--my daughter?"

She felt torn. It felt like a bitter acid was being sloshed about or rather, poured into her stomach. It gnawed at her gut, biting through her coolness until her composure turned into a slumped girl with her lower lip puckered and trembling. One of the first meetings with her father, and here he was crying. She could not place why, but whenever she saw one cry, a shame of not being among them made her do the same. Swallowing with difficulty, she nodded, just tilted her head towards the ground once.

A crinkle of paper-like clothes moving, and she was suddenly in a tight embrace with her father. Shocked and alarmed by this sudden show of affection, and worry for her father's reputation, she started to pull away, but stopped herself for she had felt something warm trickle down her pale neck. Was it... tears?

Rain.

"Why do you weep your Exalted Maj--father?" She added hastily, becoming more acutely conscious of herself and him. He did not sob, merely cried. There was no sound as he gasped just slightly, and patted her. She did not know why, he was the one to be comforted. A hand reached to squeeze her father's shoulder gently to reassure him. As soon as he recovered, he pulled from her touch with dry yet inflamed eyes. Those eyes lost their glimmer, and looked weary as did his expression. The corners of his mouth were tight. She found it peculiar that such a person--this confident and overly-concerned person would cry. And for what? Was he crying for her? Or for the possible destruction of the nation? Was it all show?

"My daughter, I apologize. I am so sorry," He paused for a moment to sweep his transparent, winged hat back into its correct position, and to wipe a glisten near his eye brow. He returned to a callused old man of politics. "I am so sorry that I haven't been like a father to you. I hardly ever thought about you, and for that, I have shame. Come here." He added the latter with a gentler voice, hands outstretched. It seemed he was going to pull her into an embrace again, thus she hesitated for a moment, fearing more tears. She crawled cautiously into them, and her father begain to rock her in his lap once she was secure. "For your safety as a princess, you must leave." His tone was firm and commanding like before, once again. "Do not have concern for the Shikon people's situation, it is best that royalty escapes first." He paused here, afraid to go on. But now Kagome knew he was thinking for the royal family. Not just her. Disappointing, really.

"Those horrible monsters are invading, they are slaughtering all. And a messenger that came right before you, has told you that all of them are searching for the youngest girl of the royal family. And that is you." Distress and apprehension tainted his last words, and his eye brows constricted grimly. Fighting for some control in his lap, she brushed a ebony tendril of hair back behind her ear, but it easily fell and began to tickle her lip; she made no move to clear it away. "You are our hope. Once these beasts are given what they are owed, you can lead the remaining people. You must live."

The impact of his words. 'Remaining people.' A fear as quick and powerful as lightning constricted Kagome for a few minutes. But that was when she was able to hear her father's hushed breathing. In another second, she was oblivious of everything beyond her skin, and listened to her father's previous words again and again. They pounded at her, as a convulsion ran through her body, she was shaking so violently even her father's large callused hands had to clasp her tightly. A bit alarmed, he called a maid to fetch a cup of tea. He cooed words like 'hush' and 'shh', but she did not stop until her mind had repeated all of the words her father had spoken. More hair fell into her eyes, and her trembling fingers tried to keep pressure on the cup even when she felt nothing in them whatsoever. Her father had to lift the tea to her lips and she realized how foolish she had appeared. Breathing deeply, she tried to sit straighter undaunted, as if the whole scene had never happened.

Dark strands of hair was tucked behind her ear with fingers that knew the practiced maneuver. It was no more than a feminine reflex. Her lips were puckered to one side and she was nibbling the inside of her mouth thoughtfully. Her eyes were larger than ever, with fright, angst. And what of her her friend, Kouga? Would he be saved? Or put aside like all else? He still had royalty in him, did he not? But then, it was she they were looking for.

Kouga was to become a scholar. During the day at least. She had kept a secret with him--he was practicing to become a expert warrior. Work and study was not all he wanted. Sweat on his brow from stress, nay, he wanted sweat on his brow from a well won battle. To feel accomplished and positive. He was old enough to start training, fifteen. But his father did not allow such slender supple hands to be callused by holding a dagger and sword. He had an appeal that was rare at his young age. A beauty that few Shikon people have ever seen, nor had. His face was perfectly symmetrical, and if he had been a woman, he would have been gorgeous. His clear, fair complexion along with his reflective blue eyes were enough to make any woman swoon. His hands were that of maidens, yet a bit thicker with nails cut short. They were strong enough to cut a tree limb off and yet delicate enough to caress a infant's head.

While her thoughts were running and colliding, fluttering and shoving their way to her mind here and there, one trickle of a thought of anxiety and impatience tickled the back of her mind. It was fear, fear for the nation. Although she hadn't ever been on the outskirts of the palace, nor actually been in the 'exterior' of Shikon, she still loved the land. It was the only place she had ever been, and the palace walls were the borders of her world. She had always wanted to roam the streets of this land, but her father did not permit it. If she reached the age of sixteen would she be allowed to wander with an escort, or if it was completely necessary. Not for inane adventures. Her longing for freedom had made her observative. There was a cherry tree, which bloomed and let loose pink petals every year when other leaves had turned into radiant shades of red, orange or yellow. That cherry blossom tree was like her telescope, no, like a window into the outside world. Having torn several of her dresses snagging the fabric on the jutting twigs of the tree, she was not let near it any longer. Despite that, she still did, and many days of the week. Benefited by the sword cleaves in the trunk, she would clamber above and would seat herself on the lowest or second lowest branch to see afar. Rarely, did she stand, for she had caught attention of a bird once and come home with many bruises and cuts. Her bottom became dirtied, but she never cared. Often watching children play by throwing four sticks in the air, playing with a sock filled with hay, watching perspiring farmers do their work without complaint, seeing mothers cradle a babe below her breast -- she had found a respect for them. For them.

Now knowing that there were in harm, she wanted desperately to attempt to save them. Especially that mother and her child. A spasm of pain flit across her face, and a pang of deep hurting sprung upon her. She felt sick when she was reminded of her mother. Her mother had been tortured to the full extent, and she remember a messenger carrying her mother's unrecognizable and mangled body to the land's center. They could not bury it, some feared they would distort it further. So they burned her mother's once beautiful body into ashes, where they were sprinkled over Kagome. When she had been no more than an infant. She did not remember seeing her mother in pieces flutter onto her pale skin, and had the sick feeling she did not want to. Yet, she had dreams of a woman barely more than a mound of flesh, organs spilling from the center. Blood oozed from chalk-white lips which were once lush and vibrant with a crimson paint. The blood itself stained her lips, except it was tainted. It had been touched by those monsters. A long time before, those slender but deadly murderurs settled in a land called Khyuristal, never disturbing other lands. But she remembered tales of a youg beautiful woman who ventured those lands to look for something precious to her that those monsters had taken. Something that no one knew about but that maiden. Kagome had no doubt that that woman was her mother. From then, those beasts were aroused from their idle slumber. Those stupid, filthy creatures woke only to try to take something they had already stole. She denied the urge to spit out a bitter curse. They knew about the daughter that lady had given life to, and now they believed that daughter would do the same thing. She wouldn't do it, of course. She didn't even know what it was her mother had searched for. What she was most unaware of however, that what her mother had searched for was right around her neck, and that it was actually her mother had stolen from them.

While her thoughts continued to rattle incessantly in her mind, she was suddenly woken from them by a large hand which grasped her slender shoulder. She felt pressure for the first time in what seemed like years. It was as if a flashback of her days in Shikon had appeared before her eyes, because these were possibly her last minutes here. She tried to cling to the 'possibly' in everything. So that meant there was still a chance everything would live. They must, Shikon will overpower the Khyuristal despite the fact there were few skilled soldiers--she shook her head. There was a chance, as diminutive as it may seem, it still was something. Beyond nothing at all. It seemed as if her father had been talking while she had been thinking, but if it was important, he would probably repeat it now.

"I will go send for the horses to be saddled and for two guards, is that clear Kagome?" She had hardly heard his voice, nor heard his words either yet again. Her large blue-gray eyes, very much like a mirror-colour, if mirror's had a tint, were staring at the water droplets never ceasing to fall. The world had known, it was weeping.

Rain.

"I forgive you, father."