Disclaimer: Possession is nine tenths of the law; the other tenth is protected by copyright.

Author Note: My most sincere and humble apologies to Countess De Eqlipse, Nistha and DarkAngelB (aka Salster) who so graciously posted reviews yesterday (24/12/2004) just before I inadvertently deleted my story while trying to fix the formatting (needless to say, I'm not fond of the QuickEdit feature). Your wonderful comments are extremely inspiring and I'm so very glad you like the introduction to this weird little tale I'm concocting. As for guessing what comes next, I'd say expect the unexpected.

What's Left Unsaid
Prologue: Illusive Memory

"Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin." – Barbara Kingsolver

She couldn't let him find her.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapping tightly about her shins, she huddled deeper into the shadowy recesses of the narrow alcove. The horrifying din of death and destruction had finally stopped; the sickening crack of shattering bones, razor sharp claws easily ripping through vulnerable flesh and the sharp cries wrung from innocent victims though echoes of those awful sounds still rang in her ears. In the brief silence that had ensued, she had thought that the worst was over; that her presence might have been forgotten in the wake of the slaughter. Instead, a more dreadful sound had replaced them; one that caused the child to stiffen in terror. Whispering over the thick carpet, she could hear the light tread of his approaching footsteps.

"Where are you, little one? There is no need to be afraid."

Pressing closer to the wall, she fitted her hands over her ears to try and drown out his voice; gentle, melodic, it should not belong to such a cruel being. Its musical cadence had the power to hypnotize the listener and she had to fight to not be drawn under its spell. With each measured step, he was getting closer; his shoes squishing in the blood soaked carpet a few feet from where she hid. She could feel his youki brush against her; leaving behind an oily, itchy feeling wherever it caressed. The dark aura swirled teasingly around her; her senses screaming at her, commanding her to flee. But, she couldn't, she remained rooted to the spot; her body paralyzed with fear. Crying softly at her helplessness, her breath hitching in her chest, she cringed as a tiny, nearly inaudible sob slipped past her constricted throat.

The footsteps paused and for what felt like an eternity, she held her breath and waited; her muscles so tightly knotted with tension, she thought they might snap. When silence continued to reign, slowly, hesitantly, she lowered her hands; straining to hear what he was doing. Cold coils of dread snaked through her when that awful, beautiful voice softly rose.

"Ah, I know you are here. Come out now, I will not harm you."

Cajoling, like a father admonishing a naughty child, he gently chided her. Standing passively before the thick curtains that shielded her from view, he smirked at the faint, nearly indiscernible sound of a quickly indrawn breath. Lifting his hand, he drew the heavy material aside to reveal her crouched form; her eyes squeezed shut against the horrors she had witnessed. She looked so fragile, so delicate; a porcelain doll that would break under the right amount of pressure. Smiling all the more over his analogy, he laughed softly at the irony.

Hearing his delighted chuckle, she gasped and scrambled backwards, her head and shoulders making painful contact with the wall behind her.

Eyes wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each panting breath, she shied away from his outstretched hand as he knelt in front of her, cooing over her self-inflicted injury. "Careful my dear, you are going to hurt yourself." His icy fingers curling against her cheek, he delicately smoothed his knuckles across the petal soft skin. "Do not worry little one, I will take care of you."

Flinching away from his inhuman touch, her dark eyes anxiously searched for a means to escape. Furtively sweeping over the decimated furniture, they lit upon the scattered remains of a man and a woman; their mangled corpses recognizable only by the scraps of fabric clinging to them. Unwillingly drawn to the bloody pulp crowned by curly golden hair that had once been the woman's face, she couldn't stop the bile from rising into her throat; the acrid fluid burning sourly on her tongue. Hastily turning her head aside, she moaned pitifully as her stomach sharply twisted.

Doubled over with her grief and sickness, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, she felt him grasp her arm; claws piercing her flesh as he roughly jerked her to her feet. Snarling, his earlier feigned kindness having been tossed aside in favor of his anger, he hissed. "Enough, you vile brat, or I will open you from neck to navel if you dare foul my clothes again with your retching."

Swaying unsteadily, her head spinning, she stumbled as he dragged her across the room; her bare feet slipping occasionally on the blood slicked floor. Numbed by the overwhelming despair that coursed through her, she dazedly stared at the long ebony locks that rippled fluidly down her captor's back. The thick, silky mass was remarkably clean and well kept; having a faint blue-black sheen that complimented his pale complexion and provided the perfect foil for his glittering ruby eyes. In another time and place, she had imagined his handsome features resembled those of a dark angel descended to earth to deliver heaven's divine justice.

However, she now knew him for what he truly was.

Anger flooded her veins as she remembered how easily he had deceived them; how confidently he had insinuated himself into their good graces. He had just seemed so completely and utterly harmless; a man with whom you could entrust the lives of your children, earning their respect and their affectionate appellation of 'Uncle'. No one had ever suspected that he was the one responsible for the recent attacks. In fact, there had never been any indication or evidence that he had any involvement in them whatsoever. As a close friend of the family, he had been above suspicion; his actions never once betraying his darker side.

So easily, they had been misled and taking advantage of their trusting natures, he had betrayed them…

Her hands clenching into fists at her sides and no longer caring for her own safety, she stopped; digging her heels firmly into the carpet. She bit her lip to keep from crying out when his forward momentum wrenched her trapped arm, nearly dislocating her shoulder from the socket. Forcing her body to act as dead weight, she held her ground as he whirled around to face her; a menacing scowl transforming his visage so that it more closely resembled his true character.

"Move your ass, bitch." Flexing the fingers on his free hand, dagger-like claws extending from their tips, he glared at her; briefly dropping his narrowed gaze to her stubbornly locked knees in a not so subtle hint as to his intentions if she didn't obey him.

Lifting her chin, her deep brown eyes flashing defiantly, she slowly shook her head. The motion caused a few strands of soft dark hair to float down across her vision, slightly obscuring it, but she made no move to brush the tickling strands aside. Her teeth clenched, she determinedly met her captor's burning red eyes as they ignited with cold fury.

Thin lips curling into a sneer, he derisively mocked her show of courage. "You stupid little witch, I should kill you right now."

Taking a step towards her and kneeling so that their eyes were on the same level, he seized her lower jaw in a tight grip; his fingers cruelly biting into her tender skin. Smiling malevolently when she winced but didn't make any sound, he laughed, amused by her defiant stance. Trailing his gaze lovingly over her rigid form, he heatedly whispered. "Ah, I will enjoy breaking this spirit of yours, girl. You will soon learn the folly of challenging me."

Releasing her arm, he smoothed his hand upwards along her shoulder; tenderly tracing the pattern edging the front of her kimono. Swirling his fingers lower, he eased the material aside to expose the silky flesh underneath; his claws coming to rest directly above her heart. Lightly scraping them over her skin, he increased the pressure; drawing four thin parallel lines of blood. Dipping his head, he slowly licked the bright red beads away; his voice rumbling appreciatively as he murmured. "Hmm, your power is greater than I had imagined. I think I shall have to keep you for some time, little one."

Trembling with disgust, she whimpered despite her newfound resolve; his indecent touches making her feel incredibly dirty, tainted. Fearing what he meant by that dark promise, she drew back from him as much as his hold on her allowed.

Smiling wickedly, his eyes sparkling with dark mirth, he purred. "Now, now, there is no need to be shy, my sweet."

Frightened tears gathering in her eyes, she jerked away from his outstretched hand; his claws raking her chin as she tore free from his grasp. With a choked cry, she turned and blindly ran; fervently praying that she could reach the living room door before he caught her. Her heart pounding in her chest, she could hear his heavy footsteps behind her. Fisting her hands in the crumpled silk, she pulled the hem of her kimono higher, running as fast as the restricting garment would allow. Dragging air into her burning lungs, she nearly wept with joy when the doorway suddenly loomed before her and she broke through into the hall. Skidding as her blood covered feet sought purchase on the polished wooden floor, she hastily regained her balance only to find her panicked flight abruptly ended; the breath knocked out of her when she crashed into a solid form.

Dimly aware of the arms that had reflexively wrapped around her, she froze for an instant in stunned disbelief; wondering how he had managed to get in front of her. Her shaking knees threatening to buckle, she felt those steel-like bands tighten around her and knew she would not escape him again…

Sitting up with a muffled shriek and fighting to free her arms from the tangled sheets, Kagome panted harshly; her fear gradually dissipating along with the remnants of her nightmare. Shivering from the cold, clammy feel of her skin, she hunched slightly; her exhaustion draining away the adrenaline that had roused her from sleep. Feeling an eerie trickle along her jaw, she cautiously ran her fingers over the bony ridge; half fearing what she would discover given what happened in her dream. Inspecting her moist fingertips in the dim light, she was relieved to see it wasn't blood, rather a light dotting of perspiration brought on by her anxiety.

Raking a hand through her disheveled hair, she stifled a yawn; taking a quick glance at her alarm clock. Groaning when she saw that it was just after four thirty in the morning, she flopped wearily back onto her pillow, heaving a frustrated sigh. This was the third night in a row the damned dream had disrupted her sleep and she was getting irritated at the lack of answers it provided. She hadn't had nightmares since she was seven which oddly enough was how old she had been in the dream. Even more baffling, she had no idea who the dark-haired main chasing her was nor did she recognize the house in which they had been in. All she kept getting was these vague impressions that somehow everything was familiar.

Rolling over, she sat up again and dangled her legs over the side of the bed. Arms extended above her head as she stretched, she figured that with it being so close to five she might as well get up. She was supposed to meet her cousin at seven and still had a couple of chores she needed to get done before then. Not to mention, the courtyard needed to be swept and her mother could probably use a hand with making breakfast; plus, there were at least a hundred other little things she had been putting off doing for one reason or another.

Whenever her grandfather had asked her to help out, Kagome had always begrudgingly agreed; a little resentful that she had to spend her valuable time chasing after the crazy old coot. Whether babbling about some inane legend or fawning over a rare, blatantly fake, artifact, the elder Higurashi was intensely fascinated by the spiritual world; his interest fueled by an overactive imagination that bordered on the absurd. Ironically, the man had never displayed even the smallest amount of holy energy, yet, he nevertheless took his role as caretaker of the Higurashi Shrine very seriously.

Perhaps this was why Kagome had never fully appreciated what her grandfather was telling her until he passed away three months ago. Since she had taken over running the family shrine, she had finally begun to realize and respect her grandfather's vast knowledge of the demon world as well as his other, less obvious, innate abilities. He had also had an amazing amount of stamina which was not all that surprising though when you considered how many times he climbed the steep flight of stone stairs leading up to the shrine each day. Several visitors had jokingly commented that the steps were like a test of endurance to see if they were worthy of visiting the shrine. Cursed with carrying a full backpack up them for three long years, Kagome had been inclined to agree.

Fortunately, she no longer had to lug her backpack around, but her present routine was no less rigorous. Most days saw her rising before the sun and she would work through until late in the evening, usually falling into bed sometime around midnight before starting the routine all over again. The first couple of weeks had been exhausting, leaving the headstrong teenager with a startling understanding of just how much the older Higurashi accomplished in a single day. As time wore on, she eventually became accustomed to her new lifestyle; coming to enjoy it so much that she decided to restart the miko training that she had abandoned shortly before entering mid-school. Were one of her friends to have asked her what career she would have chose to pursue after high school, she certainly wouldn't have said priestess, but she supposed there were worse things she could have done.

In a way, the job definitely had its perks; one in particular being that Houjou had finally stopped pestering her about going on dates.

At first, his smiling persistence had been rather cute, but after four years, the perky, optimistic way he would accept her rejections had become a little unnerving. Fortunately, college had seen Houjou joining a new crowd of friends who had convinced him that his infatuation with a 'shrine maiden' was damaging his reputation. When Kagome learned why Houjou was finally directing his attentions elsewhere, she wasn't sure whether she should feel grateful or insulted. Surely being a miko weren't considered to be that undesirable.

Granted, mikos were traditionally supposed to remain unattached, the idea based on the silly pretense that their purity affected their powers; however, that belief had been debunked several hundred years ago before completely disappearing by the end of the Sengoku Jidai. Nope, Houjou had bowed to the stronger influence of peer pressure and the social stigma associated with dating a 'religious girl'. Though it really shouldn't have mattered, her long term suitor's ready fickleness had stung her pride more than she cared to admit, but in the end, Kagome had decided that she simply didn't care what other people thought of her.

Mouth opening in a wide yawn as she stumbled, bleary eyed, into the bathroom; she squinted against the sudden brightness as she turned on the overhead light. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that she had a serious case of bed head and heading straight for the shower, she pulled back the curtain and opened the taps so that a heated stream of water fell against her palm. Adjusting the temperature to her satisfaction, she slid out of her pajamas, negligently dropping the cotton trousers and matching camisole on the tiled floor before stepping into the deliciously steaming warmth.

With a practiced efficiency learned from oversleeping on too many school mornings, she quickly washed and conditioned her hair, piling the dark, silky mass on top of her head and securing it with a clip. Picking up her loofah to which she added a generous dollop of liquid body soap, she then methodically scrubbed her skin; leaving it with a soft pink glow. Rinsing thoroughly, she set the water temperature much cooler as she finished; the shock to her system always managing to wake her up better than a cup of coffee. Closing the taps and shuddering slightly from the cold, she hastily grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapped it around her; taking a second towel to dry her hair.

A few minutes later, teeth brushed and hair loosely woven into a damp braid down her back, Kagome put on a pair of flare-legged, hip-hugger jeans and a snug white t-shirt then added a hooded pullover and tennis shoes. Feeling ready to face the day, she practically skipped down the stairs towards the kitchen where the rattling of pans indicated that her mother was already up cooking breakfast.

The scent of frying bacon tickling her nose and making her mouth water, she eagerly trotted through the kitchen doorway, her lips curving in a smile as she cheerfully called. "Ohayou!"

The soft scuffling of a chair against the floor caused her attention to swing from where her mother was busy scrambling eggs on the stove to the tall figure seated at the table. His back was to her; dark brown almost black hair tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck before the smooth length was twisted in a braid that reached to his waist. Broad shoulders encased in a soft, navy blue t-shirt shifted slightly as he turned towards her; his mahogany colored eyes glinting with surprised recognition. A small, enigmatic smile gracing his lips, his warm, velvety voice flowed over her like a lover's caress.

"Hello, Kagome."