Author Notes: Anou… see, aren't you guys so happy? I'm not dead… -runs away from angry mob of readers yelling about 'slow, baka authors'-
Anyways, here's the fifth chapter after such a long, long while. I know, I know, I'm very slow and I'm very sorry. But you guys love me anyways, ne? -gives puppy dog eyes- Right? -runs away again as angry mob of readers starts to chase her- Eheh... anyhow as usual, its kinda dark, twisted, weird, and whatever else my writing normally entails. So hope ya enjoy :) Review responses are at the bottom! Luv ya all!
rating: R Ye be warned. Don't like, don't read. Simple, really.
disclaimer: Yes! I own Inuyasha and I will torture everyone by putting all the characters together in ridiculous pairings just for my own sadistic amusement! Mwahahahahaha… -evil lawyers come and start to poke authoress to death, threatening to sue- Ow! Eh? I don't own it? What the hell? -lawyers poke authoress again- Eh! Ow! Fine, fine, I don't own Inuyasha… damn…
And without further ado…
Thy Soul of Sin
By: DarkRoseBlood
Chapter Five
Bleeding Reflection
—
And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of.
-William Shakespeare-
Shadows encircled her.
Ominous darkness danced passionately upon the paper walls in an elegant ballet of shifting mendacity and realism. Gloomy blackness shrouded the truth in unknown corners where the ghosts and spirits of wicked lurked… patiently… waiting… waiting… until the precise moment to strike…
Shadows played with the fading light of midday that managed to leak through the concealed windows. Silent and bare, the room was, with cold tatami mats covering the floor; naught a whisper murmured throughout the vast room that seemed to hold an endless amount of space in its desolateness.
Melancholic loneliness the vacant black room symbolized as scornful shadows masked the horrors in the far depths of the barren chamber.
Loneliness… so lonely…
Faintly, a soft murmur of fine cloth rustled almost unheard through the dim, unlit chamber as delicate, pale white fingers—two to be specific: a middle and index—silently rose into the tired yet somehow fresh air and placed themselves upon the smooth, clear surface of luminous glass.
Clean and shined nails glistened faintly in the darkness as they trailed down the cool, reflective glass; only a virtually unheard, metallic sound resonated through the still air as the delicate nails, scrubbed until they were immaculate, lightly dragged across the fragile glass.
Emotionless, sapphire irises glittered darkly as they blankly examined the dirt free cuticles as if hypnotized by their shimmering cleanliness. Curious how barely two days ago they had been dirtied and chipped, scarcely recognizable to the perfectly manicured nails that gently rested on the stainless glass.
Warped deviously somewhere in her forgotten mind, she could not even acknowledge them as her own. Seemingly glowing in the empty darkness, which pitifully occupied the vast room, with pure limpidness, they were… unfamiliar… unknown…
If they hadn't been attached to her hand she was positive she wouldn't have recognized them as her own fingernails…
As if hypnotized, she stared at the pale white hand lying immobile against the stainless glass. Dark sapphire orbs flickered to the identical blue eyes reflected in the incandescent mirror.
Curious how she could not recognize the young onna reflected in the pristine mirror. Odd how… she could not recognize the raven-haired girl no older than sixteen or seventeen as herself.
As if some kind of supernatural being with a bitter, ethereal beauty, the fair yet not sickly pale features of a girl stared out from the mirror, no scars remaining as a reminder of the battle from which she had been rescued. Every single vile blemish had healed and faded rather quickly, which had surprised the healer Izumi, but the older woman had attributed it to the young onna's miko powers.
Every mocking, taunting scar and scratch, which had spitefully reminded her of dreary forlorn past, had healed and faded… except for one, that is…
Prominent against her unearthly pale, milky-white skin, the thin cut of light scarlet curved elegantly yet depravedly down her left cheek. Of course, that certain cut had not been from any wretched battle… no, not at all…
Abruptly and swiftly, the priestess let her right arm fall limply to her side with the mellifluous whoosh of a white haori sleeve. Two pallid fingerprints were left smudged on the otherwise faultless glass.
Misty cerulean eyes leisurely traced the figure of a young onna reflected in the silver, floor-length mirror. So foreign to her was the haunting reflection…
It had been almost a week since she awoke to the dawn's brilliant light without her memory, and still she had not become accustomed to her own unfamiliar appearance, though she had seen it many times since then. Oh, it frustrated her to think that she could not even recognize herself, nevertheless anybody else.
Beneath the lucid light, which silent and dangerously leaked into the otherwise dark, empty room, a miko stared unblinkingly back at her from within the mocking mirror. Taunting, haunting the raven-haired onna, a priestess—something pure and untainted—gazed maliciously at her with lost, hallow sapphire eyes. Yet why… did she feel so tainted, so soiled, so… corrupted… why?
Drowning beneath the endless screams screeching painful melodies of agonizing misery and mystifying duties, she felt like she had no right to bear the title of miko—someone who would protect the innocent from all things immoral and dishonest.
And that was just satirical in itself since the one who had deemed her as a miko was Naraku… supposedly the embodiment of all that is wicked and evil.
However… if she really contemplated over it, the silent Shrine Maiden could find no evidence to support that statement. At least, not in all time she had spent with Naraku for the last week or so.
Vaguely, her mind, ensnared within turmoil, reflected that she indeed had only been with Lord Naraku for barely a week. To her, it had seemed as if she had been by his side beyond forever. All she knew was this wondrous abode, these snow-caped mountains, which encircled the frosty valley, the beautiful courtyards and garden littered throughout the castle. Nothing else was in the slightest bit familiar except for Naraku—his keen blood red eyes ever scrutinizing. Everything he did, she had observed, was done with acute precision yet with this elegant fluidity and swiftness of someone who knew he was superior to those around him.
Sometimes, she hated it. Hated him. Sometimes, she didn't. And she didn't know why.
Yes, the young priestess knew the scarlet-eyed hanyou was very devious and crafty, easily able to tear her life to bloody shreds in mere seconds, but still, even her miko senses warned her of nothing truly and utterly evil from him. Something whispered to her, a feeling, a sixth sense, if you will, murmured to her that he would not tear her mortal to bloody mutilated shreds. Perhaps the young onna knew very few other things but she believed and knew this.
So… what did that mean?
Lost within her own little warped world, Kagome continued to stare at her reflection, completely dubious of its reality—yet she could feel it, smell it, taste it, see it…
Adorned in the obvious miko's garb Izumi had presented to her to wear—from Lord Naraku himself, according to the healer—Kagome couldn't help butponder that she looked like something pure, unadulterated… innocent…
And some part of her wished to be that youthful and chaste once more…
Flowing around her in corpus waves, her haori was like any traditional miko's attire except for the fact that one could tell it was made from the finest and most durable quality. It shined with this misleading undertone of luminosity and felt like waves of pure silk upon her skin—a simple yet radiant white with the exception of a light splash of sparkling silver Sakura blossoms that littered the bottom of each long haori sleeve, which draped far enough to hide her fingers from view. Flickering slightly with each subtle movement, the silvery-white Sakura blossoms were hardly noticeable unless hit directly by a source of light; each blossom seemed to be formed of dozens of minuscule diamonds that glittered with reigning luster.
Neither the dark midnight blue of dead night nor the pale, baby-blue of noontime on a cloudless day, her hakama pants were simply that not quite dark, ominous blue precisely before nightfall.
Although a feeling of being too contaminated for some reason—too unworthy to bear such an outfit that should be worn by one who deserved it, Kagome felt radiant, content… wearing the clothing of a priestess.
A feeling—a sense of belonging stirred in her and she delighted in that fact.
With a small smile gracing her pale pink lips, the miko lifted her hand and withdrew two pairs of chopsticks from her thin blue obi—one pair the same color as her hakama pants while the other pair sparkled with the silvery shade of the Sakura blossoms that streaked the ends of her flowing white haori sleeves. Shimmering with a sheen of lustrous silver, the second pair possessed a lethal edge that was sharpened like a deadly blade.
These two blade chopsticks were actually a gift from Izumi herself. According to Izumi, these silvery chopsticks had been an ancient gift in the healer's family for many generations, and Izumi wanted to impart them to Kagome. The young teen had been tremendously touched by the gift and, of course, thanked the healer over and over again when she realized that Izumi would not accept them back.
Pleasurably, the young miko observed the smooth blade edge that could easily be very deadly if used the correct way. Her small smile widened somewhat as she once again concealed the pair of dark blue chopsticks within her obi to keep for later use.
Placing one of the whitish-silver chopsticks delicately between her teeth, she used her hands and spare chopstick to twist long ebony-black hair in a messy bun near the top of her head. With a satisfied nod, the miko stuck the silver chopsticks into the many tousled winds and coils of her raven locks, securing the bun in its place except for a few loose tendrils that hung here and there.
With a soft breath, Kagome meticulously scrutinized the young priestess just beyond the slick, glossy glass of the polished mirror.
Silently and lithely, a subtle shimmer of movement stirred in farthest corner shrouded in darkness of the otherwise tranquil room. Reflected in the smooth, flawless mirror, the obscured silhouette of a mysterious figure looming inauspiciously behind her unhurriedly became more defined from the murky shadows, which continued to dance to an unknown melody across the white screen walls.
"I wondered when you would deem it necessary to join me," Kagome softly spoke to the silent room.
"Is that so?" replied a silky voice the drowned her senses beneath an icy ocean.
Why exactly did that voice viciously weave around her already unstable sanity like a venomous snake and cause her breath to catch in her throat?—she did not know, nor did she care to know, so the miko simply continued her scrutiny of the onna reflected in the glossy mirror.
…A face that was alien to her… eyes that held no recollection of their abnormal shade of blue…
"Yes… a little, anyways…" she murmured to the seemingly unoccupied room.
Idly yet somehow elegantly, a low chuckle echoed through the empty chamber—excluding the ornate silver mirror and two persons motionless in the darkness—cloaked in misleading shadows. Slithering through the ominous blackness, the soft rumble reached the miko's ears and, instead of filling her with a sensation of disquiet, it soothed her mind into a feeling of ease.
She had no desire to contemplate why that happened either.
Glittering wine-red eyes surveyed the priestess from the dancing shadows as she stared into the silver-wrought mirror as if enthralled by what she saw.
Scarlet eyes ever-so devious, the black-haired hanyou pondered as to what his miko was so transfixed with. He observed as the miko cocked her head, tendrils of midnight black hair swaying freely in the shadowy chamber.
His miko—so simple yet so… arbitrary… her moods ever-changing, swift and precise.
His miko—this blinding pure entity of white, innocent light…
His to tantalize.
His to damage.
His to break.
His to destroy.
His to shatter…
…this flawless, porcelain beauty—more unblemished than the gleaming mirror her gaze stayed rooted in.
This untainted miko was his and no one else's. Completely and exclusively his and he was never going to release her.
She was his forever, and in time, not now though, but in time… she would learn that…
…his innocent and untouched china doll…
Dazzling sapphire irises met Naraku's smoldering scarlet eyes as his miko gazed at him in the mirror. Naraku smirked, eyes darkening as she looked at him with a relaxed and oh-so innocent expression.
His to manipulate.
Though she still did not trust him fully, the priestess—his priestess trusted him enough to let her guard down and allow countless, unspoken thoughts to play across her pale face in his presence.
Like the dancing shadows themselves, Naraku suddenly appeared directly behind her, no longer veiled in the darkness of the large, vacant chamber. Yet Kagome had seen no speeding blur of warping colors; she had simply been looking at him in the sleek, shiny mirror and then he was abruptly behind her… like lucid black liquid.
Ever moving… ever flowing… ever deceiving… having no solid form…
Instinctively, a small gasp of surprised leapt from Kagome's throat as she felt two warm fingers press against the back of her own nails. Widened sapphire eyes shot to stare at the middle and index fingers she had unconsciously placed back onto the exact spot as before on the smooth glass mirror… though now two more fingers, obviously larger then her own, were pressed on top of her nails.
Naraku's own middle and index fingers, except for the deadly sharp claws that made them look more like claws than fingers, really…
An amused smirk formed on the half-demon's lips as he watched his miko's bright sapphire gaze flicker back to the image presently reflected in the silver-framed mirror that stood on two clawed feet.
Quite an image they made—his miko and he… one of fresh, pure white and azure… the other a dark, sinister cerulean and black…
His to shape.
As if she was meant to wear the blue and white garb, the miko's apparel fit her body effortlessly, accenting each soft curve and dip entrancingly.
"Have we been exploring, Kagome?" Naraku questioned, his amused smirk still present as he lifted his other hand, not pressed against the back of hers, and lazily twirled a silky lock of ebony hair between his claws.
"Yes…" Kagome replied, nodding slightly, not minding the sharp claws that languidly played with her hair. "After Izumi helped me bathe and provided me with these clothes… I… I just had to go… get away… just go… somewhere… away… Izumi-san was so cheerful and lively and I–I just had to get away…"
Continuing to twirl his miko's radiant ebony locks between his fatal claws, the ruby-eyed hanyou shifted his gaze from the ever-glimmering mirror to look down upon his cerulean-eyed miko; the only indication of his interest was the slight raise of an eyebrow.
And, oh, was he intrigued…
His to rule.
"Why, my miko?" he murmured, his voice a deceiving caress of soft velvet.
Kagome gave a small snort at the possessive title he had placed on her but did not say anything of it. She would let Naraku play his little games for now.
"What do you see, Naraku-sama?" Kagome asked in reply, deciding that she would join Naraku in his twisted mind games. But, really, she felt no ire toward him at the moment, simply contemplation.
Naraku mentally laughed in satisfaction as he heard her title for him: Naraku-sama. Very alluring… But his attention was drawn somewhere else at the moment…
"Why do you ask, Kagome?" he said, each word measured and purposely encased in silk.
As she spoke, the young miko's delicate, pale fingers gradually slid down the immaculate glass, Naraku's two demon claws still on top of hers: "Because I see," she began, staring into the glimmering mirror, "…I see something vile, tarnished… something that has no place… unwanted, unneeded… wretched, impure… not worthy…" Each word was spit out with a disdainful bite: nasty, disgusting, putrid… burning…
Naraku let out a soft chuckle as his gleaming white fangs that protruded wickedly from his mouth hovered shamelessly above her pale neck. His hot, even breath sprayed across the white, unflawed shin of her neck with chilled pleasure. Deviously, the hanyou's smirk widened as he felt the involuntary shiver the coursed down his miko's spine, her elegant attire rustling faintly at the movement.
Perhaps, Kagome couldn't play the game as well as she thought.
His to devour.
"Am I really that immoral?" the half-demon inquired two sharp points trailing down the porcelain skin of Kagome's neck, though not hard enough to draw sweet, ruby blood.
Sparkling sapphire eyes nearly closing in long-awaited pleasure, the priestess unwillingly trembled once again, but her voice remained undisturbed and void of any apprehension. Dimly, somewhere far in the back of her mind, she realized she was losing the game, but at the moment, she didn't care.
"No, not you," she nearly whispered, her gaze focused on the faultless mirror, "…me…"
At this, Naraku paused, somewhat thrown off track for a moment. Wine red eyes gazed sadistically at the mirror but faint query reflected in their glossy sheen. Yet the hanyou did not say anything as his miko continued, sharp claws tangled in her raven-black hair once again.
"I met…" she resumed, "Kagura the Wind Sorceress. She called me… Inuyasha's wench…"
"Is that so?" whispered a velvety voice near her ear.
"Yes… but, in truth, it did not really bother me after my initial anger," the miko responded, her voice distant. "I remember her name, vaguely, like in a faraway dream. And when I saw her, there was just an aura about her… she was so proud and full of poise… something that I am not…"
Naraku examined her reflection closely, musing as to who this miko was before him, for surely this was not the annoying little wench who had followed the golden-eyed hanyou everywhere like some kind of love-sick puppy.
This girl was something mysterious and new… something to be deciphered… a twisted web of unknowns… and Naraku had always prided himself in knowing everything, to be able to work out every puzzle and scheme, then to be able to distort and manipulate it into his own…
Oh yes…
And she was his miko—all his—yet the half-demon was still unraveling her…
Very slowly and—if one would dare speak the same word in the same sentence as the immoral hanyou—somewhat gently, Naraku took a hold of her pale right hand resting lightly on the sleek, cool mirror and brought it up to his face with an air of indifference. Lightly, the cool smoothness of her nails pressed against his lips.
As stormy sapphire irises met ruby blood eyes in the glossy mirror, Naraku nonchalantly bit down on her middle finger.
Always his…
His to corrupt.
Slowly, as if it had all the time in the world, a dark burgundy bead of thick blood began to form beneath his fang, so plump and juicy as it lazily trickled down the curve of her finger, contrasting vividly with her white skin.
"Vile, tarnished… unwanted… impure…" whispered Naraku somewhat mockingly, "No, my miko, you are a white entity made from radiating purity. However…"
Unexpectedly, a sharp gasp shot quietly but intensely through the immobile air as she was pulled fully back into Naraku's chest; the hand not grasping her palm slid around her petite waist. Instinctively, the miko's spine stiffened immediately but then inadvertently calmed in the hanyou's light grip.
"You are encircled by shadows," he continued to whisper charismatically in her ear, "and eventually the darkness will devour you."
Kagome blinked and stared into the silver-framed mirror, the beginnings of a smile twisting her lips, now completely relaxing into Naraku's comfortable hold. She distantly wondered what Naraku was doing, but her mind was adrift in the rapturous serenity of blissful white clouds.
"The problem is I like darkness…" murmured Kagome, only partially answering Naraku. "Most people associate dankness with evil… with the wicked and depraved… but I love the darkness as I shun the light; so beautiful and mysterious, I see it as something not to be taken casually but to be awed, at least now I do… I don't know about before yet nor do I care…"
She paused as if reflecting upon her words, her brow furrowed in confusion for a moment.
Naraku traced abstracted circles with his clawed thumb in her palm. Her porcelain skin was smooth and silk-like, faint creases dipped shallowly beneath his nail. He distantly recalled a sorceress he had met once that claimed she could tell his future by looking at his palm—of course, that was before he killed her. Lazily, the half-breed mused as to whether his miko's future—Kagome's future had been born anew when she awoke unable to recall her past.
The fates, the almighty God, Kami—whatever, one wished to name them—Naraku wondered if they had wiped the miko's memories for a reason. …Well, if they expected some kind of act of kindness toward the miko, some kind of deed that proved there was still something human left in the hanyou, something remotely virtuous from him, Naraku—
Then more fool on them.
He was Naraku, after all.
"Who are you, Naraku-sama?" Kagome spoke, unaware of the ponderings she had interrupted. "Who are you, half-demon Naraku? Who are you…?"
Naraku idly retracted his arm from around her waist and twisted his claws into her awry raven tresses once more, yet his other claw still kept its hold on her palm.
"The darkness…" He said simply, his black velvet voice betraying nothing.
"Yes, but which one…?" Kagome mused more to herself than to the hanyou, her brow furrowed slightly. "And then… who am I?"
With a single swift, fluid jerk, Naraku easily pulled out one of the silvery-white chopsticks holding her hair in place. Wavy, midnight black locks tumbled down onto Kagome's shoulders as half of her flowing hair was set free from the messy bun. Malicious scarlet eyes lazily studied the gleaming, razor-sharp blade edge of the silver chopstick, twirling it slowly in his claw.
His lips curved into a forbidding smirk as he leisurely turned the palm stained with a small rivulet of garnet blood to face him.
Finally, curiosity winning over, Kagome turned her head to look at the hanyou, wondering what he was doing.
Suddenly, a sharp sting seared from her hand as Naraku created a bleeding slice in center of her palm with the grazing edge of her silver chopstick as it glittered in the darkness. Bitingly and painfully, a warm dribble of garnet languidly trickled down her palm and wrist.
"Mine to scar…" he whispered into her ear, unsettling scarlet eyes glinting like blood rubies.
Several more slashes of burning pain erupted in Kagome's palm as Naraku etched several more lines into her palm with the razor edge of the bloody chopstick.
His eyes were ablaze with something unfamiliar as he carved the kanji character into her palm.
She was his. And everybody would know that.
His to scar.
His to mark.
His to claim.
His to taint.
With a soft laugh, Naraku slowly carved the last line into the pale, white skin of her palm, which was now sliced mercilessly; sparkling garnet blood trickled in several small streams down her arm, some of the slender rivulets already staining her white haori sleeve.
Sweet, sweet red tarnishing unearthly white and the delicious metallic scent of fresh blood wafting through the black void, the half-demon turned to look at his victim. Her midnight blue eyes were shut tightly, and she bit furiously on her bottom lip in an attempt to not cry out.
…a marvel his china doll could bleed red…
Ever-so gradually Kagome reopened her bright sapphire eyes and peered into the image presently reflected in the glossy mirror. Naraku stood motionless behind her, that utter superiority and power of his radiating off him in tumultuous black waves, his evasive smirk not revealing anything. Stained wicked red, the glittering chopstick was held indolently in the claw that also delicately clutched her still raised palm, which was streaked with dark burgundy blood to match the hanyou's elusive red eyes.
Kagome continued to stare, as if spellbound, into the mirror.
"Bastard," she murmured softly, her voice calm except for the slightest bit of confusion tingeing it. Confusion for what exactly?—she didn't know. There were many reasons that had caused her to be confused these last few days: her past, her future, her life, this place, this world, Naraku… But, at present, she didn't know which confusion was more prominent. "Someday, when this is all over, I will kill you Naraku."
A smirk, evil, wicked, and alluring. "Will you, Kagome?"
She didn't answer—she had no answer to give.
The only sound that echoed through the vacant chamber veiled in deceiving shadows was the muted drip-drop of wine-red blood as it hit the tatami mats. Well, that is, aside from the velvet-like whisper that cut though the cool air, washing over her senses and drowning her in an abyss…
"You are mine to bleed…"
End Notes: So what'd ya think? If you'd be so kind and tell me in a review, I'll give you… uhhh, a virtual cookie… with virtual chocolate chips, hehe. Anyways, hopefully I kept them pretty IC and not drifting off into lala land but eh… whatever…
Annoucement: Oooh, now doesn't that sound important? ;) Anyways, I was wondering if somebody who likes my story and my writing would like to be a beta-reader for this fic, and maybe some of my other stuff. If you'd like to, and think you can handle my slow updates and erratic writing patterns, then plz e-mail me or leave a review. I'd really appreciate it. Thanx!
Okay, now onto other things, hmm?
Reviews:
Jasmine Fields: Hehe, yeah, that last chap probably was a little hazy and kinda made ppl feel like that. But I hope this chap was less confusing since I kinda mixed both writing styles, or at least, I tried to. Anyways, anything you don't get or its too 'floaty', just ask or tell me, and I'll either explain or see if I can change it. :) Thanx for the honest review! I really appreciate it!
Reality: Umm, I'm not exactly sure when Kagome is going to remember everything, but hopefully, it'll be soon. Or not, with my erratic writing styles. Hehe. Anyways, thanx for reviewing!
Alexis Barnes: Thanx for the review!
Naraku's Dark Soul: Have I mentioned that I love your penname? Hehe, anyways thanx for being understanding in my lazy updating. Though with how long I took now, you might reconsider the not cursing me if I take a while part, ne? lol. Hopefully, I still kept them pretty IC, but eh… whatever… Thanx a bunches for the lovely review! ;P
Skitzoflame: Yeah, I know I keep bringing up questions with no answers. Gomen. XD Thanx for reviewing!
Wolfwoods: Your welcome and thank you for reviewing! XD
TamashaToko: Oooh, of course! Who wouldn't like Naraku all evil and bad! A deliciously evil Naraku is good for the soul. lol. Thanx for the review! ;D
WildKat25/ShadowWolf13: Oh, maybe Kagome is just a tad bitter in this fic. lol. But who wouldn't be if ya woke up without a memory and evil, but still a very yummy Naraku by your side, ne? Hehe. Hope your still pleased with how the fic is going! Thanx for reviewing! ;P
Child of the Ashes: Long time no see, ne? And yay! you finally got an account! Love the name, by the way. Ah, and don't worry I don't plan to be dropping this story any time soon, though I may take (well, actually I -do- take) awhile updating. But like you said, good things take time! lol. Lots and lots of time, in my case, actually. Thanx for the review! I wasn't sure about my new writing style and you made feel very pleased with it. Heh, this chap I tried to mix my old one and new one a bit, but eh… somehow I came up with this as a result, heh. Ah whatever, my writing styles change and mesh constantly. Hehe. Thanx! ;D
Inverness: Well… I updated, not so sure about the 'soon' part though, heh. Thanx for reviewing! ;)
shell: (blushes) Best fic? Mine? Naw… it's probably just second best, hehe. lol. :) Well, I tried to update regularly but it didn't quite work out, heh. And ya'll just have to see about the rest of the inu gang later. Thanx! ;P
littlemiko: Aw, shucks… you're too kind. Hehe, thanx for reviewing! (:
KattSano: Well, yes, for some reason, I have a bad habit of making people suffer in my fics, heh. Oh well, maybe things will get better soon… or not. Hehe. Thanks for reviewing! Really appreciate it! (:
SesshomaruGirl14: Okie-dokie. :poof: I updated! Like magic, ne? lol. Thanx for reviewing (:
Wowies, that was a lot! Thanx so much to all my reviewers! You're what keeps me going! Luv ya all!
Thank you and until next time… (and who knows when that will be, knowing my updating habits o.O;;)
Ja ne!
:) DarkRoseBlood
(edit : 9.8.06 : some quick format editing and removal of irritating fangirl japanese)