Thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews! Sorry about the unusual lateness, but I was working on another fic at the time. (Bad me. :) But, it's about Naraku at least. The title's "Scarlet Seeker" and it's hosted here if anyone wants to check it out; that is if you enjoy Naraku/Kagome. GiR, I have no idea how long this is going to be, but it'll most likely be longer than thirty chapters. As an added precaution, this chapter contains a bit of violence. If you don't like that sort of thing, you may want to skip over this. Now, on with the story!

Rays of golden sunshine settled on Mizoshi's face. A fresh autumn breeze blew into the room, warmish with a slight chilly nip, only cold enough to require an extra layer. Groaning inaudibly, Mizoshi turned on her side and was suddenly faced with a pair of crimson eyes.

Fully awake, her lids jumped open. Tenderly, Naraku kissed on the forehead. Was she dreaming? Naraku and tender in the same sentence?

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," she replied, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, carefully watching Naraku all the while. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to discover you snore in your sleep."

He had been watching her as she slumbered; her most vulnerable state. Should that surprise her? Still, Mizoshi wasn't worried. If he wanted to hurt her, he could've done so ten times over while she lay unconscious at any given night.

Close by, a sudden mellow, delectable scent reached her nostrils. She sat up and gazed down at the floor. Two tables were set together side by side: one bearing a cup and a steaming plate of trout with luscious melon, and the other another single cup and the teapot itself. Apparently, Naraku still hardly ate.

"Come to the table," he purred, grabbing a hold of Mizoshi's hand and drawing her out of her bedding.

A red stain on her cheeks, she followed and took her usual place. Naraku was beaming akin to the sun outside. Here, there was no curtain of shadow. He could not melt into artificial darkness as he had before. In the light, she could trace every fine, attractive feature with her eye and follow the length of his dark tendrils. Mizsohi hadn't realized how pale he actually was until now.

"Try the food," he suggested. "I suspected trout was your favorite."

"You suspected right," she answered, helping herself to the cooked white meat.

This was wonderful. Everything was so peaceful. The burning hotness of the breakfast on her tongue alerted her that this was indeed not a dream. Mizoshi began to feel a bit like her old self whilst sitting in the warm golden radiance with a man that gazed at her adoringly. Whatever came over Naraku, she hoped it would never end.

Unfortunately, harsh reality struck when Kagura walked in with a vessel. Now Mizoshi had the impression of who exactly had moved the tables in here and set them up ever so impeccably. Yet, she hadn't heard a thing while her head was upon the pillow.

"Bring the sake over here, Kagura," Naraku commanded.

What happened next was in a blur. One second, Kagura was approaching Naraku behind her shoulders, and the next Mizoshi was drenched from head to toe. Springing up from the table, knocking the piece of furniture over in the process, she frantically shook the substance out of her dripping hair.

Naraku's eyes flared blood red. "Kagura! How dare you be so clumsy?" Seething, he slowly unfolded himself to his full height.

"Naraku!" she cried. "Master! I didn't mean to-"

"Mizoshi, go to the bathing room. Kanna will take you there. As for you, Kagura…" Painfully, he clamped his hand around her wrist. She cried out.

"Naraku, please. Don't hurt her. It was an accident," Mizoshi pleaded. Why was he acting this way? It wasn't Kagura's fault. She didn't drop the vessel on her head on purpose. Had she?

Naraku growled. "Don't contradict me. Ever. Leave this instant."

Cowardly, she fled from the room just as she heard flesh strike flesh. She felt extremely guilty and sorry for the demoness that was treated little better than a servant. Why was Naraku doing this on her account? Obviously, he did not tolerate accidents or mistakes. She didn't relish the idea someone might be brutalized because of her participation in an incident she had no control over.

Searching for the ghostly little girl, with her mirror in tow, Mizoshi suspected that all the aromatic oils in Japan couldn't soothe her nerves at present.

Seven...eight...nine...ten. There. That would suffice, although Kagura would be mostly healed by nightfall.

Gazing down atthe oozing wounds marring the back of her panting form, his lips curved into a smirk. He hated to admit he took pleasure in his incarnation's punishment, but then, when didn't he enjoy it? The disobedient wind demoness needed to learn her place.

"Do you understand what'll happen in the future if you continue to defy me and instead entertain your own petty jealousies?" he cruelly inquired, twirling the handle of the whip in his hands.

"Master, there was no malicious intent. Believe me. The jug merely slipped."

"You haven't liked Mizoshi as soon as she walked in the door," he reminded his charge."Rest assured if anything happens to her in the future, you'll get worse."

"So, are you to make her your whore?" Feebly, she scratched her painted nails across the floor, grunting the words out.

"No. I already have one."

"Damn you," she hissed. "Damn you to hell."

Fiendishly, he smiled. "Hell already walks this castle."

Leaving her to wallow, he left the room, taking the whip with him. Why had he grown so infuriated? Every time he tried to come up with an answer, it was horribly incomplete. Kagura had ruined it. Everything. The entire atmosphere he had sought to create. What did Mizoshi think of him now? Should he care?

The idea of meeting Mizsohi in her room and catering to her needs with kindness was to make her comfortable in his presence. Again, he would have to placate her.

Mizoshi herself was in the wooden bathing tub presumably, her own musings rattling around in her brain. He wouldn't mind helping wash the rice wine out of her shining hair, but couldn't of course. Lust wouldn't help him understand love.

Kagura wept. She never let Naraku see her do it. Not that she was physically punished often. She hadalways made sureto feign obedience around her master, but Mizoshi's invasion had made that near impossible.

Wiping aside her tears, she lay on the scrubbed wooden floor awhile, simply letting her mind wander. Why did Naraku so greedily guard his "prize"? Mizoshi was a filthy hanyou, even worse than the vast majority. They at least had one pureblooded youkai parent, but Mizoshi had a half demon for a father that coupled with an insignificant mortal woman. What was in it for Naraku? Did he fancy on bending her to his designs? Perhaps I'll be out of a job in the future, she surmised sarcastically.

The spill had been an accident in truth. She had imagined throwing the wine all over both Mizoshi and Naraku, but she never considered actually doing it. She supposed her body acted of its own will, something that was unacceptable from Naraku's point of view.

It didn't really matter. Kagura wouldn't take her aggression out on anyone, least of all the bewildered, inexperienced girl. She was too clever for that. Still, Naraku would pay for this in time and his wench as well if she had the audacity to defend him. She would discover a means.

But first,a tigress had to track her prey.