- CherryBlackthourne - Hello again, my faithful readers. Firstly, I want to thank all of those who reviewed for my story so far. It has really been wonderful hearing your opinions, good or bad, since I've used them as a way to improve and at least reduce the flaws in my writing style. Again, thank you. Secondly, to those who've put this story or perhaps even me on their favorites list or on Author Alert, I want to thank you as well. You have no idea how much this means to me. And lastly, to those who are wondering where the Inu Yasha part of this particular Inu Yasha fic is; worry not, that part will be coming up shortly. For now, I'm just trying to develop my characters without giving anything away. Also, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. Then again, it seems to be in my nature to do so by now, doesn't it?

And with that out of that out of the way… Enjoy the show!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inu Yasha or any of its characters. That privilege belongs to Rumiko Takahashi-sama alone.

Aiko sighed as she passed by her sister's door on her way to her calligraphy lessons. She had unsurprisingly handled the news of her father's death much better than Ami. After all, not only was she three years older than her younger sister, who was only in her eighth year of life, but Aiko wasn't nearly as attached to their father as Ami was.

Mother was right… they were inseparable, weren't they? mused Aiko as she remembered all those times she'd seen Ami with him. She really was Daddy's little girl. They were so close, and now to have him forever ripped away… Poor Ami-chan. No wonder she's so depressed.

Aiko arrived at the door of the room her lessons were to be taught in. She noticed that the sliding panel was already slightly open, and her sensei, a brown-skinned old man by the name of Kiyoshi Atsumoto, was waiting inside. I just wish I could help her… she thought somberly as she slid the door open, bowed, and stepped into the room.

"Ohayoo gozaimasu, Atsumoto-sensei."

The old man looked up from his kneeling position in front of a giant paper screen with a beautiful scene of a sunset during autumn painted on it. With an indifferent frown, he nodded and stood up, albeit with effort.

"Ohayoo gozaimasu, Aiko-hime. I hope all is well with you this morning?"

For a moment, Aiko cast her eyes downwards before she spoke.

"I'm afraid not," she redirected her gaze back to him. "I suppose you haven't heard the news yet about my father, have you?" There was a sort of hopeless sadness to her voice, which was strange to Atsumoto since he knew Aiko was usually never one to disclose her emotions.

"Indeed, I have not. You know that I've never been one for castle gossip. But surely it cannot be as bad as you imply…" There was a tentative pause, and then, "Is it, Aiko-hime?"

Aiko nodded, her eyes trailing back down to her feet. Atsumoto quirked a furry brow at her apparent show of emotion. An awkward silence was shared between the teacher and student.

"He's dead, sensei," Aiko suddenly blurted out. Atsumoto blinked in surprise. The shocked expression on his face stayed there for a few flickering moments, then quickly settled back into his usual indifferent mode.

"So he's dead, is he?" murmured the old man as he turned back to gaze at the magnificently painted screen. He chuckled quietly. "I must admit, it's a wonder that he's lived as long as he had."

"Sensei, why would you say such a thing?" asked Aiko, staring at him dubiously. A corner of Atsumoto's thin mouth gave a small upward movement briefly. He glanced at Aiko, and saw the hints of her father in her stare.

"Well, Aiko-hime… I've known and taken care of your father for many a year. Ever since he was a small boy, really. He was always such a rambunctious young one, he was. Always getting into fights with his brother and such. He was also very peace-loving as well, though. Your father truly wanted to do the right thing, whatever it may be. He hated to see someone wronged. Luckily for him, he was of noble youkai blood, so therefore he was actually able to do the things he wanted."

Aiko sighed and cast her eyes downwards, appearing to be studying the tatami mats beneath her. "I suppose. I've certainly always suspected that my father was like that in his youth as well."

Atsumoto nodded. "Indeed he was. So then," he said as he got to his feet with Aiko following, "Let's get started on your lessons for today."

Slowly, night settled once again into the background. The midnight blue sky shimmered slightly as the stars began to reveal themselves to the earth, and a champagne-colored full moon hung overhead in the distance.

Outside of the walls of the courtyard, a tall, stately figure waited. The leaves made a loud crackling under his foot as he shifted his weight. He adjusted his baboon mask, listening for just the right moment. At last he heard a sort of hush come over the castle grounds. He smirked evilly, slid the white baboon pelt from his shoulders, and removed the mask to expose a slightly feminine but wickedly handsome face. With that, Naraku began his transformation.

His curly black hair became longer and straight, and long bangs grew over his forehead. His eyes changed from a void, emotionless black to a soft, warm brown, and his outfit from a dark purple print kimono and black hakama to the white haori and red hakama of a miko. His face became shorter and a bit more feminine and soft, and his body morphed from that of a man to that of a young woman.

Now in the guise of the dead priestess Kikyou, Naraku smirked and reached back to tie his hair with his now delicately slender fingers.

"And now it begins…"