Author's Notes: I'm incredibly sorry for such a long wait; it actually was supposed to be updated over a month ago, but life, as usual, has decided it just loves to screw with me. Anyway, Chapter Seven has finally arrived, a rather long chapter, which I totally did not intend for it to be, but oh well… that's how life goes. This chapter is a crucial turning point into the second phase of the story, so you guys might want to pay attention. Still, hope you enjoy!
Yay, I reached 100 reviews! (throws confetti)A huge thanks to all my awesomereviewers!
disclaimer: yup, sure, I own it… in some twisted little fantasy world of mine in which nobody seems to want to live… oh well… guess that means I really don't own it. damn.
warnings: general twisted-ness, evil-ness, darkness, dangerous introspective into both Naraku and Kagome's minds, and the like… this chapter is also un-betaed 'cause I was in a hurry so yeah…
And without further ado…
Thy Soul of Sin
by scelerus animus
Chapter Seven
Between Master and Doll
Rich brown dirt smeared her pale, porcelain hands, ever-so cool and smooth against thin feminine fingers, ever-so earthy and ever-so blemishing. Fruitful, coffee-covered soil slipped between her hands and fingers like sinuous water and caked beneath her clear fingernails as delicious chocolate cake would when a child hungrily dug into it.
Pity, she was no longer a child. In fact, Kagome no longer knew what she truly was. Simply a village maiden? A priestess? A teenager? Or… or merely a doll? Delicate and white and beautiful… but empty, hollow inside, utterly soulless.
Funny… that description sounded familiar to her. A beautiful body sculpted of old clay and graveyard bones. So lovely, so pure, so fake, a replica of what it once used to be.
Why did that sound so familiar?
Soil fell through her fingers like silk, a lively waterfall of gorgeous earth as her brow furrowed slightly, and she shoved those troublesome thoughts from her mind, at least for the moment. The earth thrived around her, living, breathing, and it would almost be a blasphemy to carelessly stain this beauty with ponderings of her petty problems.
A blasphemy. A sin. For something that once had been so pure and beautiful to be so hateful and stained and corrupt.
A description of a miko… Kikyo? Herself?
Kikyo… a name so familiar, a name when spoken by Naraku, pitying contempt coursed like fire through Kagome's very veins.
On this day, when all she wanted was simple peace at mind for just a moment, why did these names of an unknown past haunt her?
Cool wind from the snow-capped mountains drifted lazily around her, and as she sweetly breathed its welcomed freshness, she almost felt at peace… almost felt she belonged. Almost.
Besides, what in the world was chocolate cake? It sounded so familiar… along with a thousand other things of which she possessed no memory…
Swirling through the air ever-so lightly, the gentle winter breeze softly blew at dark ebony locks highlighted with vibrant blue streaks like a subtle whisper of breath. Refreshing, it was indeed. It playfully tickled the back of the her neck as she once again shoved bothersome thoughts aside and continued to dig into the chocolate earth with a small spade.
The world was her own at the moment, and nothing else would disturb it.
At least, she could pretend.
As Kagome shifted and hoed the fertile ground, a pleasant yet lively melody drifted along with the humble breeze in a sweet hum, bringing hope to the arriving spring.
Hidden beneath the looming mountains' shadows, a gentle layer of frost covered the grounds, slowly melting beneath the afternoon sun. Here and there, the last fading remnants of icy winter lingered, but the chirping birds and fresh air gave way to the emerging spring.
It was an absolutely perfect time to replenish the gardens surrounding the Shrine Castle with lustrous flowers and blossoming flora.
And a perfect time to forget for a moment and play pretend with stained white fingers.
Though spring was nearly upon the snow-covered mountains a pleasant winter aura covered the land valley in a silver-white sheen of ice. Nevertheless, the smiling miko continued her cultivation of the frost-bitten soil, furiously digging up any weathered weeds ready to overflow the large yet homey field of which a trained eye could tell a blooming garden had once grown in abundance over the ample inner courtyard. Even if, presently, it was driven out by snaky weeds in the absence of the miko who had tended to the garden in past years.
And this current miko with orbs of sparkling sapphire intended to bring back the wondrous beauty the sizable inner courtyard had achieved with its numerous flowers glittering as if vibrant colors of the a rainbow.
Kagome sought to bring back lush green life to this rather barren Shrine Castle and restore it to its former superiority. Flowers that blossomed with the pale moon and wilted during the frigid cold nature of icy winter would indeed bloom in supremacy over the Castle and even the Shrine below, if she had anything to say about it.
Life flourished around her, and she could not ignore it. Would not. Even if she was merely a doll hollowed out, without purpose, without reason, only a lovely porcelain face and an empty, shattered heart, why should she spitefully hate the world, the Earth when it had done nothing to her?
Lifting her cerulean gaze from her rigorous destruction of any pesky weeds, Kagome peered out over the natural courtyard, which held so much potential beauty beneath its rich brown soil.
Still, she mused silently, even in its barren and weed-run state, it did have this icy, unnatural beauty… similar to the frostbitten grounds outside her room. Covered in a thin layer of frost, this place still whispered of something… mysterious… enchanting…
And it was not stained in the vile scarlet of sin, but in the heavenly green of life.
Shaking her head with a small laugh, Kagome resumed her peaceful gardening, becoming lost in her own little world once again; a low hum escaped her throat as she continued oblivious of the observant reddish-brown eyes that silently contemplated her simple yet somehow complex mind.
Her voice was sweet, he noticed. Made of something delicate and exquisite in melody, perhaps honey newly extracted from bees' hive or some other delicious substance dripping with sugary sweetness.
Or a deviously saccharine poison.
Humming to a soft tune unrecognized by him, he observed that she possessed a lovely voice perfect for something such as putting to young children to bed at night or soothing those who are pained with loss and heartache. It was gentle voice that was meant to ease the pain and sorrow away for just a little while during these wretched times of vile blood and cruel war.
As he chuckled quietly to himself, reddish-brown eyes never straying from her small form, he stood and exited the cool shadows cast by the section of the main castle beneath which he had been previously sitting. Hushed, like a whisper among the wind, his navy-colored hakama pants rustled faintly against the troublesome tall green grass, which occasionally dominated small patches of the inner courtyard as he leisurely strolled toward the sweet-voiced miko.
Pausing about two feet from her, he looked down at her heartily digging into the cool brown earth, taking no notice of his presence. He cocked his head, reddish-brown eyes glittering with something akin to amusement and fascination.
In the garb of miko, Kagome strongly reminded the hanyou of another miko he had once met.
Pity, that miko was dead, because she had fallen so far—so far into depsondance, into that fickle thing called love. That love had been what triggered that once divine miko's fall. All Naraku had done was make sure she would continue to fall. And it had been all too enjoyable to watch.
Now, all that remained was a beguiling imitation—maybe a doll—from old bones and graveyard of the miko's former self, as beautiful as she ever had been, but still undeniably dead.
Kagome, however, was not dead. And, satisfyingly, she had been a intriguing replacement for these past few weeks.
Maybe not even a replacement at all. But still a pretty doll—despite her vehement protests—that he would use to gain power over the land, then lock her up in a lovely glass case so she wouldn't get dusty.
"Is there anything you need, Naraku-sama?" Kagome spoke, not removing her gaze once from her destruction of the weeds flourishing in the rich soil. In contrast to her fiery tone when she was beyond fury, her tone was cool, almost chilly, but still not completely hostile. Only slightly irritated.
Perhaps, she hadn't been completely oblivious to his presence. Or maybe she was merely becoming used to it, though there was a stiffness in her shoulders that had not disappeared since the morning before yesterday's.
Naraku inwardly smirked at that thought.
"Is there anything I need, miko…" Naraku softly mused aloud, eyes flashing scarlet beneath the blazing sun. "Now isn't that an interesting question, Kagome…"
Below him, he saw Kagome twitch as he repeated her words, but she did not say anything, content in her silence.
A smirk twisted his pale features.
"Tell me, Kagome, what are you doing?" Naraku said nonchalantly, deciding to leave the rest of that conversation for another day.
This time, she twisted around in her robes, and shot Naraku a suspicious look. "And why do you want to know?"
Amusement flickered in not-quite-red irises, and Kagome answered the hanyou's previous question before he could speak.
"Gardening." And then she continued to dig into the dark soil, getting deep beneath sneaky roots.
Casting a no less amused glance at the surrounding area where desolateness seemed to flourish in abundance, Naraku inquired, "Why? Why do you try to bring something back to life that is so obviously dead, Kagome?"
The harsh wood of the spade pressed roughly into her palm as she paused in her digging, anger suddenly flashing beneath sapphire depths.
Really, why must that hanyou always do that? Her pseudo-peace, oddly enough, hadn't even been disrupted by his presence as she originally thought it would. At least, not until he had said those words. Really, all had been perfectly fine until he let those duplicitous words of his spill from his mouth. She had been able to pretend. Stupid hanyou.
"Because," Kagome ground out, "where all you see is death and despair, I see life and hope."
At this, Naraku chuckled, eyes glittering darkly.
"Do you really believe in such things still, miko? Your hope and your life—do you not hate this world after all it has done to you?" he taunted scathingly.
Her answer was simple and short, without hesitation. "No."
Curiosity invaded the hanyou's thoughts, an occurrence that had turned out to be rather frequent, as annoying as it was, when dealing with Kagome.
"And why is that, miko? Your memories, your love, you own life has been viciously ripped away from you by this world, which you so cherish so willingly. Why do you not hate it?" Naraku demanded, sneering sadistically.
Once again, Kagome paused in her steady digging and turned to gaze at Naraku beneath dark raven bangs, a small lift to the corner of her mouth. "If I didn't know any better, I would almost pity you."
As Naraku's eyes narrowed, the miko gazed at the midmorning sky, rays of sunlight streaming on her face, warming her instantly. "How can I hate this world?" she mused aloud, that small lift turning into a shadow of a smile. "How can I hate life? It's beautiful, it's fresh—it helps me know that I'm still alive, despite the… misfortunes I've gone through."
"Oh really?" drawled Naraku.
"Yes, it does," she affirmed confidently. "Though that doesn't mean revenge isn't sweet. It's a bitch"—her eyes flickered mockingly towards Naraku—"but it's still delicious. As a matter fact, there are probably only one, maybe two, things I truly hate at the moment."
Naraku smirked. She knew he knew what at least one of those 'things' were. Still, it was intriguing to hear it from her own mouth. "Amuse me, miko."
With dirt-smudges hands, dark contrasting ever-so prominently against white, she cocked her head and lightly tapped her fingers against her chin as if in contemplation. But the dim smile to the curve of her lips intentionally gave her away. "Ah, Naraku-sama, I do believe I despise… golden eyes, yes, I hate them very much. … Golden eyes turned crimson." At the last word, she stabbed her wooden spade into the loosened soil.
Sapphire eyes narrowed and brown furrowed, she stared at the chocolate dirt, unseeing.
The abruptly she shook her head, loosening her grasp upon the wooden spade, and smiled, that light, carefree, almost false smile which spoke of an underlying danger. "But why should you care about what you already know, ne, Naraku-sama?"
"Oh, but I am interested Kagome, about what you have to say," replied Naraku silkily, scarlet eyes glittering and not with the light of the life-giving sun. Scarlet eyes that gleamed with a life and darkness of wickedness and sin. Sinful scarlet eyes. Scarlet.
Scarlet eyes, Kagome reflected as she gazed up at the hanyou, scarlet eyes that she could never could call another color… always scarlet, never crimson.
Mentally shaking such thoughts from her head, Kagome resisted the urge to snort and resumed in her digging.
"Don't you have some other place to be, Naraku-sama? Surely, a 'person' as important as you, being a lord and all, must have better ways to spend their time than talk to a shrine miko, digging in a garden," Kagome lightly questioned, though she couldn't hide the subtle layer of sarcasm underneath her words and didn't bother to. "Anywhere, as long as you're not bothering me," she added, muttering to herself though she had no doubt that Naraku heard it as well.
Naraku laughed, that low, scheming laugh with a treacherous undertone of silkiness and allurement that she also had come to loathe. It echoed in her mind along with sinful scarlet eyes, warping her thoughts and her mind.
"But I have come to tell you a story, miko, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss it," he replied, a subtle mock in his voice and in his gleaming eyes.
Kagome opened her mouth to retort, the words at the tip of her tongue naturally: And how would you know what I want? But she stopped, her mouth snapping shut. That line never had gotten her anywhere previously and wasn't going to get her anywhere now.
Besides, she couldn't say she wasn't a little bit curious. After all, Naraku never did anything without a purpose, albeit more than often a wicked, deceitful purpose, but she could maneuver around that as usual.
That thought, however, suddenly cause her to freeze in shock once again. As usual? She thought, not sure whether to be appalled or… well, more appalled, horrified perhaps. She hadn't gotten used to his conniving ways or—Kami-sama forbid—even him, had she?
Nope. She wasn't going to think about that. That was bad, very, very bad. Like…like mixing peanut butter and ice cream! Bad. Very bad! …Peanut butter? Ice cream? …Jeez, what in the hell was she thinking now?
Tightly pressing her lips together, Kagome stopped all current train of thought at that point. Perhaps, the sun was getting to her. Sadly, it probably wasn't. Either way, it didn't matter; a headache began to throb at her temples.
The rules were very, very simple: when this was all done with, she would be Naraku's end and, perhaps, vice versa. Naraku would die at her hands. There was no reason for her to make the rules any more complex than that.
And why were—must be—the rules this way?
"Well, if you got a story to tell me, tell me so I can discover what evil scheme you have come up with now and get over with it," she snapped, gaze focused on her furious digging. Above her, Kagome could just see thatamused smirk on Naraku's face, even if she wasn't looking at him. Bastard that he was…
There was a pause in which Kagome knew Naraku was staring with that damn gaze of his, as if he knew something she didn't, which he did, but that was besides the point, at least for the moment…
Bastard.
"I met a young women once," Naraku began as he crouched next to her, lazily twirling a lock of wavy raven hair between lethal claws, breath silky and warm against her ear. Breath and lips that she knew could wound like acid and tasted like sin. Why did that send a heated, desirous spike of need through her blood?
After all, she shouldn't have needed anything in a world where she had nothing left to need. Only revenge.
"She was very lovely, young and foolish, so naive that I could have easily killed with one strike. But she did have power, and she was the reincarnation of a miko I previously had destroyed fifty years prior. So I waited and watched." Razor-sharp nails having now twisted into more dark tresses, Naraku felt Kagome stiffen further.
"She was a silly little thing and fell in love with the hanyou who I tried to kill, as he did me, quite often. But this hanyou was the past love of the miko from whom her soul had been reincarnated. And this miko, dead for fifty years, came back to life, full of hate and revenge for the hanyou, because she believed him to have killed her fifty years prior."
"A scheme of yours, no doubt," Kagome interrupted, her voice harsh and eyes narrowed once more.
Naraku chuckled once again, except this time Kagome could feel that laugh, that voice so very close. "You know me so well, miko," he mocked.
Kagome snorted, but did not move away.
Raising a slight eyebrow, Naraku continued. "This dead miko, now only a rotted bones and graveyard soil that housed the souls of the dead, was brought back to an Earth in which she did not belong, and she despised the world, all things living and breathing, all the things full of life and hope, all the things which you, Kagome, love."
Abruptly, Naraku jerked Kagome's head, a gasp escaping her surprised, parted lips, until his lips—those that tasted like wickedness, a sinful addiction—where so close to her ear that they brushed against the sensitive cartilage, icily sending shivers down Kagome's spine. Shivers that were entirely unwelcome but craved. For a moment, apprehension squirmed in the pit of Kagome's stomach like a parasite that would devour her from the inside.
If her assiduously suppressed hunger for another taste of those lips—another taste of fire and sin—did not destroy her first.
Funny that she didn't notice, not even for a single second, that she did not feel a hint of fear.
"So tell me, Kagome," Naraku hissed into her eye, an unusual sign of near agitation for the hanyou as his lethal claws dug into her raven hair, twisting painfully, "why do you hope and love life when all it has brought is pain and grief, tossed you aside like you are nothing, just like the worthless human you are? Why—when it has already began your pitiful downfall?"
As Kagome stared upward because of her awkward position into the softly dawning sky, brilliant hues violet and red and gold painting a heavenly mural before her, she thought once more that if she hadn't known any better she would have almost pitied Naraku.
Then faintly yet still powerful enough to twist and spitefully disintegrate craftily designed plans, Kagome replied, "Because I am not Kikyo, Naraku."
There was a silence, dark and heavy, despite the dazzling golden sun vigorously beating down upon the courtyard righteously casting all shadows to far corners where they wouldn't emerge until the sun had bled into the western mountains and darkness had been cast upon the frost-bitten mountain valley again.
In contradiction, Kagome breathing was light, even, undaunted; still she felt no fear.
Slowly, with the ease as if he had been merely plucking a stray leaf from Kagome's midnight hair, Naraku uncurled his claws and retracted them from tangles of raven locks and leaned backward into his original position, neither quite sitting nor standing.
With a faintly mocking sneer twisted on his lips and utter malice flashing precariously in vivid scarlet eyes, like bloody gems beneath the shining sun, he tauntingly inquired, "And who is Kikyo?"
A sharp snort hissed between Kagome's teeth as she blew snarled strands of raven hair from her eyes. With mocking idleness (though the stiffness in her squared shoulders attested otherwise), Kagome turned and met Naraku's narrowed, damning scarlet gaze with her an airy, willful one of her own.
"I don't know."
In appearance, her words were simple, direct, unfeeling. She seemed not to care as she delicately picked up the fallen spade and, blowing dark snarled tresses from her, resolutely continued to dig into the earthly rich soil.
Especially, however, in a precarious world where youkai ruthlessly ruled the land with savage intent, appearances can be—no, are—all too deceiving.
Besides, Naraku, the demonic embodiment of treachery and wickedness, had taught his miko—china doll—well.
A faithless smirk twisted Naraku's lips, an ugly feature upon a face that could almost be called beautiful in an perfidiously alluring way yet still a trademark without which the hanyou would look alien.
"Don't you want to know, Kagome?" Soft and silken. Suffocating and snaring. "After all, what is human without a purpose, a life? Just another lowly, worthless occupation of space, another slab of warm blood and flesh waiting to be torn apart and devoured by a demon. Just a useless, pretty doll."
"Maybe." She didn't pause in her digging. "But I don't need to know who this Kikyo is. And…" This time, her movements stilled for a moment in another contemplation of her words. "And I have a purpose. What you, hanyou, don't understand is that even if life continues on around a person… they can still love it, cherish it, wonder it, a human… a human who has nothing left to live for will only have revenge to keep them going."
And she said she wasn't a doll, Naraku mused idly, a amused glint in his eyes. If not a hopeless doll, a puppet to fate, then what was a human who watched life pass her by, loving it, but from afar, unable to join the flow any longer because she no longer had a purpose, had faith, hope?
Though, given, his pretty little miko was a more useful doll than most.
Naraku leered, possessively twirling another strand of raven hair, a habit of which he had become rather partial, around his claw.
"Oh yes, miko, I know the greed of stupid humans, their revengeful emotions, their twisted sense of love, which leads to their downfalls.
Softly, Kagome laughed. Wasn't Naraku listening to his own words? After all, the same could be said about demons.
"But what you don't understand, Naraku is that I can be content. I will have my revenge, and I will be content. Because I am able to love life."
Scarlet eyes narrowed; an unnatural curve of the lips which could almost be called a frown appeared.
Behind her, Kagome knew Naraku was irritated, scarlet eyes gleaming, pitch black contracting into slits. It amused her.
As he leaned close to her, lethal claws digging into her hair, a sometimes painful habit that Kagome had realized with amusement that Naraku seemed not to have noticed, Kagome absently reflected that Naraku oddly smelled like the earth, rich and real. Almost satirically, she wondered if he had enough life, enough human in him left to smell like that in the first place.
Or was that just another deception?
Kagome felt the urge to laugh once more.
"And that worthless emotion mortals call love will cause you to fall into a Hell from which you will never be able to escape, Kagome," he hissed silkily into her ear.
Maybe, in a time before time, she would have pitied him.
Perhaps it was just instinct, but Kagome somehow knew that once Kikyo had pitied him. Kikyo also hated all things living in the wretched world. Kikyo despised life. And now Kikyo was dead, a walking, albeit beautiful, doll who lived off the souls of the dead.
Kagome was not Kikyo. And she didn't care. Didn't have the will to care any longer.
Kagome almost pitied Naraku. Almost but not nearly close enough.
Unintentionally but not carelessly, with a slight pitying amusement tingeing her sweetly melodious voice, Kagome softly murmured, "Maybe when I kill you, I'll pity you then."
With her back turned towards him, the only reaction she could perceive was the tightening of the deadly grip on her dark knotted locks. She flinched but the pain did not override her near sadistic amusement.
"How far my miko already must have fallen to find that amusing," he murmured into her ear, once again, as addicting as he was lethal.
Inertly, Kagome shivered; her palm burned.
Perhaps she should have been afraid. Should have been afraid of Naraku, of his wicked ploys and of his ability to destroy all good and turn into it evil.
Really, the wisest thing to fear was fear itself, isn't that what she had always been told?
"My love for life will not be my downfall," Kagome stated, and she was surprised at the hollowness of her tone. At that moment, she felt she had never spoken truer words, and she didn't know why.
This time Naraku laughed. "But I never said that Kikyo's downfall had been her love for life. She had loved golden eyes."
And maybe Kagome should have feared that warning. But it was something neither her nor Naraku realized at that time.
After all, the word obsession almost had the some meaning as addiction. Some even twistingly confused those words with the word love. Either way, one was just as dangerous as the other.
Yet, being the stubborn girl that she was, rarely had she ever listened to others. At least, that was her theory. For honestly, she knew nothing about her former life, had no identity.
Still, at the moment, what she feared the most? What threatened to rip feet her content, if not oblivious, life as Shrine miko, watching life continue to exist and thrive around as she gently urged it on, from beneath her sturdy if not exactly stable feet?
As she unwillingly had admitted before, the unknown—that subtly silken voice of Naraku's which encircled the mind with temptation, and those scarlet eyes which gleamed of duplicity, and those lips… those lips that tasted of sin, a misleadingly saccharine addiction—it all threatened to destroy. Everything.
And even if neither she nor Naraku knew it yet, it all was succeeding.
Besides, pretty china dolls were neither good or evil; they were soulless. But then… could pretty china dolls feel desire? Could they feel other then hollow revenge? Or were they merely captive to their owner's desirous schemes? And couldn't the some be said about masters obsessed with their possessions?
"Oh, but Naraku, I know how far I've fallen, and I can assure, I've been dragging you with me the whole way down."
Kagome was not Kikyo, Naraku knew this. And she claimed to not be a doll.
Yet, unbeknownst to her, Naraku already owned her.
In this twisted game of virtue and sin, deceit and truth, who would win?
Who would fall? The miko who thought she had already fallen or the hanyou who thought he was watching mockingly as she fell?
Or would they both fall—drag each other down—together?
Treacherously, Kagome could sense the conversation spiraling down into a entrapping, abyss-like depth of which even she was cautious, so before Naraku could make a scathing remark in return, she inquired, "Izumi-san asked me to visit the village market this afternoon. Would you like to join me, hanyou?"
Surprised for only a dash of second, that customary smirk twisted Naraku's pale, sharp features in a wicked grin as he replied with cruel tenderness close to her ear: "Yes, I will, miko."
And, if their precarious descent had already begun, would they ever reach the bottom, or would it just be an endless, tortuous, cyclic fall to nowhere?
End Notes: Wow, looks like Naraku and Kagome have really gotten themselves entangled into this twisted game of theirs. Mwahahahahahahaha.
Anyway, I realized that I haven't included Kanna and other such details of the more recent anime episodes in the ficcy yet, and honestly, I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that any more. When I first started writing this on pure whim over a year ago, I had intended to include Kanna and many other things, but for some reason the original plot has just gone away with me till I ended up with where I am at now.
So there are plenty of plot holes and inconsistencies that I never intended, but ah well… what can I do? Honestly this fic was started on a very vague, sketchy idea, and only now am I really starting to bring things together. My apologies to anybody irritated by that fact, but I'm trying my best and that's all that I can really do.
Much love and thanks to all those who have encouraged and supported me thus far, and I hope you will continue do so as this story enters into its second phase!
Reviews are greatly appreciated and constructive criticism is always considered. Both are loved foods for the starving authoress! Thanks.
Reviews:
As you know, I'm not allowed to put in review repsonses (which I think is still stupid)I won't reply individually like I usually do. Besides, that was one of the reasons this fic wasn't updated a month ago as it was supposed to be; unfortunately, I simply don't have that much time anymore. Just know that I appreciate and love every review you guys leave!
Many undying thanks to: DarkSaintofChaos, sakuya-kaleido, Marik's girl, Child of the Ashes, yami1, Emerald-Eyed-Faye, Morbid Flower, BadBoysMistress, Aurric, Shadowlover101, KattSano, SweetestChick, Otakuyoukai, ShadowWolf13, sessygirl6, The Bagel Guy, AngelKelley17, dumdeedum, Skitzoflame, seshhomaru's babe, kirasilver0506.
My goodness, so many reviews! Really, it just makes a author all warm and tingly inside, heh. (sniffles) Ah, what would I do without you guys? Probably, take an even longer to update, jeez. (sighs) Thanks for all the encouragement! Love ya all! Heh. XD
And till next time…
Ja ne!
– Scelerus Animus o.O