"Vorgefühl."

"What did you just say to me?" Rin hated it when he whispered arcane things into her ear out of nowhere, dammit! The serpentine and completely foreign sounds slithered around her brain in an instant, making goose-flesh stiple her newly marked back into impacts of tiny pain.

"It means, 'the sense of something coming'. Is English and Japanese your only tongues?" Naraku pressed himself over her thin, guarded back, further annoying painful skin. Someone was going to need something out of the dirty utility room and then it was going to be pain of a whole different sort. She hated it when Dr. Onigumo sought her out at work!

"Oh good grammar, asshole. What do you want?", Rin hissed at the red bins before her

"The world on its knees before me, little nurse. You will do nicely in its stead. Tonight.", he hissed back, slipping something in her scrub pocket and without further harassment, melted back out the door into the everyday world of their co-mingled profession.

Rin's phone rang, summoning her back into the fray of illness and failing humanity – at least for another few hours until her shift ended.

Her back itched – like mad. She wanted nothing so much as to scratch. The scars had healed but the image was still fresh and her skin was not used to being marred, yet.

Naraku would have laughed at her had he seen Rin, doing her utmost to ignore the new facet of her inner life trying to make itself at home on her skin. But that would have made things that much more complex – he hadn't seen her for two weeks until he had sought her out amongst the bins of infectious wastes at work today. She looked uncomfortable in a very ill-defined way that had everything to do with why she hadn't gone home yet since getting back from the critical care nursing conference in the South. Plenty of time for the skin on her tattooed back to heal, but Rin knew the exposure this fresh mark would lead her into perdition, namely on her knees... later.

Rin wondered just how far his prescience manifested itself when it came to knowing who she was and what she'd done – the note she'd found slipped into her pocket, dressed down in Onigumo's fine sloping physician's hand-writing was a list of what she'd be wearing and where she'd be tonight... in approximately 20 minutes. She snarled around the Coal Ila scotch in her glass as she caught sight of her bare shoulders, the halter top skimming her lower back, just under the etched black tribal wings newly made upon her own shoulder blades, trailing down just under her ribs – her own status as a fallen angel advertised to any who dare look upon her as a spotless, empty vessel for compassion. Two weeks immersed in a concentrated vat of her profession, lost amid the false sanctity and myriad double standards of a nurse's role left her dying to break out of the tiny life she was being pummeled into by her career and its endless impossible conditioning. The tattooist was friendly enough – and quite surprised by her ability to withstand six straight hours of pain to get her work finished in one sitting. She could have told the guy this little bit of discomfort was nothing – she had to keep nudging herself awake to keep from snoozing to the hypnotic buzz of the needle-gun in her ear.

Her skirt skimmed the tops of her leather boots – at least she was covered modestly for the most part. Except for the fine black jersey of the halter she wore, while it had a high collared neck, it left her entire back down to the bottom of her spare ribs open for display. She couldn't wear a bra without it looking ridiculous so she was faced with an uncomfortable sort of nudity; the whole of her tattooed back open for display tonight unless she wanted to endure the obnoxious itching feel of something as coarse as a jacket over her newly sensitized skin.

And there was no jacket of any kind listed on what she was requested to wear tonight, Rin mused thickly and blew her spicy breath out over her ice, sending a nice little scotch-coated fog up over the glass. Just for her.

Fifteen minutes... give or take. The bar was somehow not the same without the band or Kagome tonight. Quiet music poured listlessly from the house speakers. Rin wondered every time she heard the loud door clank open if she'd know her doom when it walked among them.

She slid off her barstool and powdered her nose. When she returned, the bartender had left her something new. Perhaps it had everything to do with the large man perched next to her now oft-filled glass. She looked for the tell-tale signs of her dark master in the huddled, closed-up form of the large man in the barstool next to hers.

Despite the imposing height and dark aura, it wasn't him. Her lover had hair.

"Is this mine?" Rin smiled at no one, letting her voice carry.

The bartender smiled. The man next to her cringed further into his mass of dark coats and said nothing.

Feedback and distortion rang hard out of the old house speakers and made them fuzz. Sonic harshness raked her ears for eternities until a quiet, fragile voice wormed its way into her ears. She hated that voice, so close to the truth all the time... she recognized it immediately.

The same song was on the stereo at home, it was one of his favorites...

The sweetest price you'll have to pay

The day the whole world went away...

Suddenly through the coming sonic onslaught of vicious noise, the degraded and disfigured fallacy of eternal brotherhood of man and togetherness ringing together in the malignant singing of the masses that filtered through and came to a dead and refreshing stop as the music went away... she knew he was here.

Of course he was. Rin looked around and found him, sitting behind her, worrying a glass in his long white fingers. Black overcoat thrown over the chair, Naraku held himself in check – his impossibly tall form casual to her elegance. The river of white flesh between the open buttons of his black shirt beckoned Rin's lips like her next drink. He had come out without the damned Victorian cobalt sunglasses for a change and his dried-blood colored gaze bit into her fading smile like ice in her non-existent panties. She suddenly remembered she hadn't seen her Master, her lover in two weeks. The ice moved up her marked spine in a flash.

He pantomimed her taking a drink from her glass. With a smile.

She did as she was told. Gilded grapes and fired-oak. It could only be Remy Martin cognac. She'd once told Kagome she'd done some pretty stupid, drunken sluttiness at a party once under that wicked spirit's influence. It was never a good thing for her if she drank the Archer... how Onigumo had heard about it, she didn't want to know.

Like the dread wings on her back, it didn't matter. It just was.

Her nipples were hard with the taste of pain that drink promised. She looked slowly over the rim of the glass at Naraku, where he waited in shadow, with his silent wicked smile.

He licked his lips slowly at her, promising her whatever she wanted. She swallowed hard and rubbed her ankles together in their tight leather. Then he twirled his fingers, motioning her to turn around.

She remembered suddenly, his scar. Pink twisted runnels of burned and cramped flesh in the bizarre form of a spider, his namesake. Demon-spider. Oni-kumo. His personal hell, his own given name. Naraku. How deep did the pain go? She realized then she knew nearly nothing about the man with whom she shared her heart and soul, not to mention that Rin had trusted him with her twin lives, both personal and professional.

His disfigurement lived between them, now mirrored by her own.

Now, she had her own. They were more alike than she could have guessed, more than she'd ever wanted to believe him, every time he tried to tell her that and make her believe...

She could feel his eyes on her, following the twining black marks scarred onto her skin.

"Da-tenshi..." the big man next to her ground out, reading both their minds. Rin choked on her cognac and then she began to drink in earnest.

Naraku made her have another drink and then stalked over to her to lift her up and take her home. Rin could feel his eyes over her exposed wings like knives. When he put a hand against her neck and offered the other to her to take and go, Rin itched to shed herself and wear her lover like a skin. Two weeks of cold-turkey was far too long and she needed her fix...

"Try to separate the body from the mind; I can't – can you, my girl?" Naraku purred down to her cryptically as he ran his large white hand down her naked, scarred back. They walked together the short distance home, Rin climbing the high metal stairs to their shared lair like she was being hunted by something just at her back – her soul strained to flee the imaginary fangs she could feel against her open skin. Something was coming... something was coming upon her, hard and fast.

"Vorgefühl..." she whispered to herself and shivered as her Master let her into their home.

"You begin to understand. Let me show you what is coming." Naraku growled over her head and spun her hard against the heavy oak door, pinning Rin suddenly against the unforgiving slab with his large body.

Her mouth was forced open by his invading tongue, Naraku ripping her halter off in the process. Her skirt was less than the smallest obstacle to him as he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her naked sex into his caged erection – making them both gasp at the shrill sensation.

"Delicious little whore, I want inside of you – right now.", Naraku snarled into her mouth, gasping with need. He ground her harder against him again, dragging her newly-marked back across the hard door in the process.

"Ow – my back, Naraku – it hurts!", Rin forgot herself and complained with a hiss.

"Oh yes, tell me about pain, bitch!", he moaned into her ear, pushing her harder against the slab, freeing his hungry flesh from its cage of raw linen, pumping himself quickly with a lick of his fingers and then forcing her open body onto his thick, slippery cock in the process.

"It feels like you're trying to skin me alive, Naraku!", she wailed and hung onto his corded neck as she was fucked hard and fast against the front door.

He answered her with a tight moan and drove himself harder within her, hard enough to hurt her and she winced and tightened her legs, trying to drive him out of her with their pressure alone. Naraku laughed at her resistance, slipping far enough out to leave only the head of his brutal cock within her. Still – sweating, panting – but oh so still – he waited for her to relax and then pushed himself slowly back within her hot depths – only far enough to feel the grip of her body upon him and then withdrew again, teasing her mercilessly.

After long moments of this wicked provocation, Rin felt like she was going scream in frustration. Leaning forward to jam him harder, faster, deeper within earned her only less leverage as Naraku backed her off the door a little farther each time Rin tried to force him further within. His dried-blood eyes mocked her suffering with a tight smile and he continued just to tease her entrance with his throbbing cock, one soft but achingly slow stroke at a time.

"Either you fuck me or you drop me, Naraku – I'm tired of your games!", Rin wailed after she was frustrated for the last time in her attempt to fit him tightly within her and ride him to a frustratingly-far off orgasm.

"Your sharp little tongue gives me no orders, bitch! You think you're the only one in this world who knows what pain is? Is this what you had in mind?", Naraku snarled quickly back at her, throwing himself hard into her cunt and pinning her, full and squirming against him. His long arms were shivering with the effort of holding them at such a stand-off for so long; she had to be getting heavy and he had to want to come as much as she did. Suddenly, Rin felt so much power over him in their most excellent moment together – Naraku was trapped within her just as much as she was by him; disfigured and scarred alike. Alike as above and below and beyond she imagined... Rin pushed her line of reasoning, clenched her body around the man trapped within her and smiled wickedly back at him, all on her own.

Naraku's mad red eyes drank in her understanding and he answered her with a rhythm of long hard strokes, trying to break her before he in turn was broken. When he felt the spasms of release twist like fire up his spine, Naraku's open-mouthed moans for completion were answered by Rin's shrill calls; spiraling them out into white fire where they exploded together like a binary star in the death throes of supernovae, screaming both death and creation.

She felt his strength give out a moment after the last spasm faded, and slipping unceremoniously onto her numb feet, another shrill sensation twisted out of them both – Naraku was panting and nearly fell on top of her, his softening member slipping out. Her legs gave out first, and clinging to him, Rin found them both on their knees in a weird tableaux of supplication and release.

"I missed you.", Naraku ground out in a raw voice, holding his large mass off of Rin with his arms against the well-used door.

"Aw, Onigumo – people will say we're in love.", she snarked out his oft-used sarcasm.

His sudden guttural laugh was her only answer before she started screaming his name again.

All copywritten characters and themes, musical or otherwise are the sole properties of their respective owners; no infringement is intended and no money is being made. The lyrics to "The Day the World Went Away" belong to Trent Reznor and I am not trying to take it away from him in any way because he'll beat me up.