Not My Enemy

Chapter 1 Thoughts of a Demon

I don't own Inuyasha

How long has it been now? Ten years to be exact now that I think about it. Of course, to me, that's the blink of the eye but to her it's a decade of age. Is that the same little girl that I brought back to life? Of course it is, I should know of all people. I visit her but she changes each time that I return. The hair is a bit longer, the round childish face becomes stronger and more representative of a woman's, and she's taller of course. I could have sworn she grew from three feet to just a little over five feet overnight. Of course the little girl is no longer so little.

She started out learning the ways of the old miko but when she died a year after Kagome's return Sango had taken her under her wing. Rin's curiosity and somewhat stubborn nature led her on a path that I never thought that she would walk. No, she wasn't a miko, but the enemy of a demon. A slayer of all things. Why this unnerved me a bit, I wasn't sure. She had traveled with me for a year and had seemed to have taken to demons without much hesitation. I remember when she first told me that she had decided what her calling in life was. I knew that Rin would not be the typical young woman. There was something about her that made her different but I had always expected that she would be a miko. It never crossed my mind that Rin would change that path. She was more of the docile child but then there were deeper signs that showed competitiveness and a fighter. Constantly racing with Jaken, claiming to outdo him in any way that she could, the bravery that she showed during our travels and even in confronting me for the first time were signs. Only Rin was capable of such acts. In that year with me, she was free to do more than any human girl of her age. She had aged beyond her years. She was smart and yet manipulative in her own way. Even as I think of these things, I still have a hard time understanding why she decided to become a demon slayer.

These feelings had changed the distance that I shared with her and how often I visited. I noticed, that with the information, I had decreased the amounts of visits that I would make to the village and gifts were no longer given. She spoke nothing of it, but I felt that she sensed something was amiss. Of course, she was also a young woman, ready for marriage so I figured that the distance was appropriate. But, as I think of it, was it really her age that brought about the distance as much as it was, what she had become? Truth be told, I couldn't stand it! I, a demon, had taken her in and she turned her back on me.

I fought with myself to keep from questioning her reasoning. Conversation, with her, was not as simple as it used to be either. The air was not relaxed, maybe because I had started to smell the stench of death of many demons mixed with flowers upon her. Maybe it was the fact that she, herself, had so little to say. During my prolonged absences, she didn't care to ask where I had been or what I had done as she had as a child. She would simply go about her task without a care. I could see her patience with my own silence waning. She was a fire waiting to spread and I was a drought ridden forest. Sango's training had hardened her. Was it because I was a demon that the smiling child had done everything but turn against her protector?

Two daggers with sashes at the end were her weapons of choice. The sashes added a feminine touch of her own but they represented death in their own right. Watching her handle them simultaneously was a sight to see. I had witnessed this up front one day in particular. I had been around the village during the day and had left in the evening assuming that she would remember that I would return later that night. I had done this during most of my visits with her as they would last for a day or two so it was nothing out of the ordinary. I noticed her walking back to her home and was approaching at a decent speed. It was not my intention to frighten her. Her senses were so alert that had I not stopped sooner than I did, the dagger would have gone through my throat. She had apologized but it seemed half hearted…not that it mattered. I didn't really blame her, I blamed myself for not remembering what she had become. I should have known better.

I haven't visited her since that incident, some time ago. But I continue to watch her. She practices as if she has a mission. The outfit that she wears is a combination of her own and that of Sango's. She wears a white Kimono top, cut off at the waist by a purple sash that ties into a small bow at her back. The kimono top was designed with purple flowers outlined in black. The rest of the outfit resembled Sango's but was purple where hers had been red. The sashes on her weapons were the only hint of the brightness that had once owned her being, a sunny yellow. If the outfit could have had a title I would have called it an elegant death.

Watching her practice is a sight to behold. She's quick, for a human, taking the heads off of straw created figures so precisely that she leaves no hint of a head ever being attached. Throwing one dagger up into the air and taking out a fake enemy before reclaiming it is her favored move. Her skills are well past that of Sango's now. They are the best that I have seen of a demon slayer. Yet, she continues to practice as if she can surpass her own humanity.

A/N: Yes. I like drama :)

I'm usually a 'start one story, finish it before you start another story' type of person. However, I wrote this chapter almost six months ago and was ready to bury it when a plot peaked in not too long ago. So here we are. I don't see this being very long, maybe six chapters or so but who knows!

Please be patient with me as I am attempting a great feat, at least in my mind :P

Chapter titles will be my previews this time, maybe some quotes later on.

Chapter 2: Thoughts of a Demon Slayer

Critiques are always welcome! Let me know what you think!