This is just perfect insanity.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN DRRR! OR INUYASHA! ALL RESPECTIVE CHARACTERS AND PLOTS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTFUL OWNERS!

XXX

Chapter 2

There was red.

So, so much red—so much red, in fact, that it rivaled the bloody sunset that illuminated the sky, rivaled a piece of a kimono that was hanging precariously in a nearby branch…

There were bodies.

Bodies littered the ground—bodies of people she'd never seen, bodies that were mutilated beyond recognition, so many bodies. Their clothes were tattered, their weapons laid a good twenty feet away, and their eyes shined with the light of the dead. They were shocked, melancholic…

…and fearful.

The red surrounded the bodies like some sort of demented halo, accentuating scratches from swords, wounds from claws, and the startling glassiness in their eyes. The girl gasped—she just realized what the red was.

Blood.

The girl covered her mouth and stepped back, only to feel her feet sink into something soft. Instead of turning around to check it out, she closed her eyes tightly, too afraid of the vision. She knew, somewhere in her panic induced state, that this was all a dream, a distortion of reality.

Just a dream.

So then why did it feel so real? If it was just a dream, why could she smell the metallic scent of blood, feel the wind burn her face as though it was running away, feel the fleshy softness under her feet as she trampled over dead body after body…

A dark chuckle erupted behind her, something that sent shivers down her spine and caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. That voice… there was something oddly familiar about it, but then again, there was nothing reminiscent about it at all. Despite all that, Anri knew that she did not like the voice.

Or the feeling of hands as they grabbed her shoulders.

For once, she could feel her stoic nature slipping away, only to be replaced by an indescribable fear. She opened her mouth to scream, hoping someone would rescue her, but no sound came out. The stranger took no notice of this, for he—she'd determined it was a 'he' by the stoutness of his chest, the large calloused hands that grasped her barely concealed skin—placed one of his burly hands over her mouth to stifle any noise. Then, with the scent of raw meat engulfing her senses, he spoke.

"We meet again, cursed blade." Cursed blade. Anri shivered; even if this was a dream, why was she so perceptive, everything so vivid? And why would she be having a dream with Saika in it? Before she could ponder this any further, the voice, deceptively cruel and mocking, spoke again.

"I've got you now. And this time, even Kikyo won't be able to stop me."

XXX

Anri woke with a start.

Breathing heavily, she glanced around the room in mild confusion before she realized that no, she wasn't in a blood covered field, but rather her own bedroom. She could feel her heart hammering against her chest, almost hear it and she tried, in vain, to take calming breathes. It wasn't working. After a few more moments of failed attempts, she stood up and turned on a light.

Her small, quaint, though thoroughly adequate room graced her sight and she felt her anxious heart slow a beat. Taking in another deep breath, she leaned against the wall and glanced over at the clock. 2:15 A.M. Was it really that early?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Anri's breathes returned to normal and she felt slightly better—not like that was saying much. She could still recall that dream, that dastardly dream, like a memory that hadn't been quite forgotten. But there was no way that was a memory—at least, she didn't think it was. It had the same surrealistic feeling that any of her other dreams had, but at the same time, it was like a message. Or a warning.

Did Saika have anything to do with it? Anri considered asking, but then decided against it. Not only did she dislike talking to the demon, but she also knew that Saika wouldn't answer anything, especially since she'd started acting weird. And while Anri's mental fortitude was immeasurable, she knew that even she would be at a disadvantage to the sword's manipulating ways. Until she calmed down completely, she had to have the upmost vigilance, no matter how hard or improbable it was. Speaking of which…

Why wasn't Saika responding? Any time she'd had a nightmare in the past, the blade would be there before she even woke up, tempting her with sweet words of nothingness, her own nightmarish visions. It had been hard, so terribly hard, but once Anri had gotten used to such things, she was able to all but drown out the sickly sweet voice. It was almost as if—

Humans.

The thought, so unperturbed and disconnected, hit Anri's brain like a freight train. One word, one god awful word that meant the world to a certain raving demon—

Humans.

Anri heard it again. She felt her temples throb, her body ache, and the hand that held the cursed blade begin to tremor. Though she was still far from losing control, she could sense—almost physically feel—that Saika was attempting to escape, attempting to garner control…

…attempting to beat Anri into submission.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked quietly, her perturbed gaze never leaving her blade. "What's wrong, Sai—"

HUMANS!

Anri grunted. The mental force of the word was so powerful that, for a second, she'd lost complete control. It was something eerily similar to her nightmare—a nightmare where she imagined that a cross-eyed, insane version of herself was laughing jovially, skipping around the fresh corpses of her friends, her enemies, her schoolmates, anybody. She'd bathe in their blood, finding the color astonishing, the feeling of adoration never leaving her chest. And then, just to show how much they meant to her, she would cut their heads off, slowly, and it was then that Anri realized that they were still barely breathing…

That's enough!

Just as quickly as it had happened, the vision stopped. Gasping, Anri clutched at her chest, almost losing control again in the process. But her resolve hardened; gathering all her fortitude, her power, her anger, her will to protect this world and the next… she calmed down. No matter what Saika did, no matter what happened, no matter how far into Hell Anri fell… she would not lose. Couldn't. That vision, though ludicrously terrifying and realistic, reminded her that she was just as susceptible to Saika's charms, her cunning poison. She knew what she had to lose—her friends, her freedom, her life—and her thoughts became all the more enamored, her resolution resounding through her body until Saika's whispery wails of 'humans' died away.

But even with all of this, Anri couldn't shake the bad feeling away from her chest. Something was about to happen, something awful—but she couldn't stop it. She could only pray that nothing like this ever happened again. She couldn't go on, barely holding on to Saika, and expect everything to be okay, everyone to be magically safe. Life didn't work like that.

Especially life with an eternally damned sword that was growing impatient for blood.

XXX

Kagome's eyes popped open.

She was greeted with the sight of her bland, pure-white ceiling, the comfort of her warm bed underneath her back, and the feeling of pure adrenaline as terrific thoughts raced through her head. Shifting so she was lying on her side, she was greeted with the moon, beautifully accentuating the desolate landscape of Tokyo at night—not a bloody, red-streaked sunset that was almost imprinted on her eyelids. Looking down through the window, she saw not bodies of her friends and allies littering the field like confetti, but a calm, serene light that seemed to light up her family's shrine. Yep, everything was entirely normal.

That was definitely one weird dream, Kagome decided. It had been so vivid, so bloody, so awfully horrific that she could still recall every single detail, every feeling, every emotion, every inch of blood. She could recall the unmistakable scent of Naraku—who had just recently been in his demonic arachnid form—and the strange sight of him almost cooing to someone else. Either the figure had been too far away or Kagaome had been less perceptive than she thought, but the lone woman—she could tell it was a woman by the petite frame, the short hair that hit just above her shoulders—she had not been able to see. From what she saw, Naraku seemed almost… giddy, as if he was a small child who had received everything he had desired for Christmas.

He had grasped the woman's shoulders. The woman, in turn, did not respond. He said something then—his face had a certain look to it, one that sent shivers down Kagome's spine—and then, much to the woman's reluctance and Kagome's horror, he turned the stranger around.

The first thing Kagome noticed was a blade. It was small, insignificant; hell, it didn't even look like it could cut a piece of paper, much less be an imposing weapon. But she knew looks were deceiving. Just like Inuyasha's blade, this sword gave a feeling of pure demonic energy. If Kagome focused, she could make out the red aura that surrounded the blade, the sure sign of demons… and power. For just a moment, Kagome imagined that Naraku, the despicable half-demon, had reconciled with the blade, and was ready to use its power.

The thought did not console her.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her eyes took in the mysterious form. It was still entirely blurry and Kagome was only able to make out a few certain characteristics; for example, she knew the girl had short black hair and her eyes were a haunting crimson, covered with glasses. The rest of her face was strangely blank and her body was so nondescript that the priestess had no idea what to make of it. It seemed that was all she could discern…

Wait. Kagome's eyes suddenly caught something. In the girl's mouth, three small, red tentacles were writhing, obviously displeased at being exposed…

So much for this girl not being a demon.

"I-Inuyasha," the frightened priestess had whispered, unable to take her eyes off the gruesome sight…

And then, without any prior warning, the dream had ended. Actually, what was probably more correct was that Kagome couldn't remember anything after calling for Inuyasha. She was sure, absolutely positive, that something had occurred, but her state of mind was saying otherwise. Glancing over at the clock, she realized that it read 2:15 A.M., way too early for even Feudal Era times. Really, she should be getting back to sleep.

She bit her lower lip and, without another thought, rose nimbly from her bed.

It creaked and she flinched; it'd been so long since she'd had a decent bed besides the cold, hard earth, covers instead of some travelling bed mat. Slowly, she shook her head, berating herself for being such a fool, and got what she had been going for.

The jewel shards.

The pink, singular shards in a small unblemished glass bottle gave off an ethereal light, being a small beacon in the sparsely lit room. In times of great struggle and fear, Kagome would grab the shards, holding them protectively while the calming souls of peace resounded around her. Right now, her heart was still hammering and she… well, not like she'd ever admit it, but she was afraid. Scared beyond words.

The young priestess grabbed the jar and fiddled around with it, thinking back to all her adventures in Feudal Japan. Some were pleasant—like meeting her friends for the first time, the first time that she admitted she loved Inuyasha, all the antics said man had created here in her time—while others were decidedly horrible. Certain events, like the first time she met Naraku and saw how formidable, how cruel he was; when she was captured by certain demons that would forever be etched in her memory; and when she saw Inuyasha and Kikyo together, professing their love, while she, like a foolish schoolgirl, hid in embarrassment behind a tree. But no matter what, no matter what she encountered, no matter how hurt she got, she would never wish to forget those memories. She would never want her life, her perfectly messed up life, to ever change because that's who made her as a person. And yet…

Something was on the horizon. Something big. And it was approaching quickly. Whatever 'it' was.

XXX

"La-lu-li-la-lu-li-laaa~"

"Rinko, be quiet, would you?! We're on an adventure!"

"B-but Taro-kun…! I don't wanna go see a rusty old sword! It's so BORING!"

"Quit complaining! Instead, you should be grateful that a cool, older boy like me is taking notice of a plain, boring girl like you." He gestured to her tattered appearance, from her shoulder length black hair to her dirty, ripped kimono. "See?"

Rinko blew her bangs up, exasperated, though she was smart enough not to push it. Taro was always like that. Pushy and bossy. But that's what she liked about him. That's simply what made Taro-kun Taro-kun after all.

"Fine. But are we almost there? It seems like we've walking FOREVER!"

Taro puffed his chest out, like a rooster whose pride had been ruffled. Pasting a smirk on his face, he said, "That's because you walk too slow, Rinko! Why, if I was by myself, I'd already been there AND back! You're the one slowing me down!"

Now, like the girls in the village, Rinko should've taken offense to that, telling Taro that he was being an ass and walked away. But Rinko wasn't like most girls in the village. She liked to think of herself as an individualist, someone who didn't follow what the other eight-years-olds did, including anything that pertained to Taro. Every girl in the village couldn't stand him.

So, unlike the other children, she smiled cherubically at Taro's remark, even letting out a small giggle as a crimson blush painted the other's cheeks. He noticed her chuckling and, embarrassed, he quickly made his way in front of her. Rinko smiled at his shyness, but said nothing except, "Of course you would have, Taro-kun. But I still don't think it should be taking this lon—" Suddenly, she stopped as she ran into Taro's back. "T-Taro-kun?"

But he wasn't listening. No, something had the boy enraptured, pulled in by an unknown force. Rinko, short as she was, attempted to peak over his shoulder, but it was to no avail. She couldn't see a thing, except for the trees that swayed overhead.

Taro still hadn't answered her.

Rinko huffed, though it was decidedly lacking venom, and said, "Taro-kun, what's going on? Why'd you stop?"

As if snapping out of a trance, Taro slowly turned towards her, his movements forced and slow, like he was in a pool of molasses. "Uh…"

She pouted, remembering what one of the older gossiping ladies had said about girls who pouted: boys couldn't get enough of them. Taro still seemed a little out of it though, so after a moment, she stopped before asking, "Taro-kun… Why'd you stop? Is something the matter?"

"I… don't remember…"

Rinko cocked her head, confused. "Don't remember what?"

"I… ah…" He grasped his head and it was only then that Rinko realized he was in horrendous pain. "Ah… Mother… I-I'm sorry…" His knuckles were turning white, that's how hard he was grasping his head. "Y-you're right… I'll do you well, Mother."

Rinko felt a sliver of fear race through her spine. "T-Taro-kun…?"

She was suddenly met with the frightening visage of red eyes.

"T-Taro-kun…!"

Screams could be heard throughout the forest.

XXX

Please review! It'll mean a lot. And stay tuned for next Monday for chapter three!