Disclaimer: I do not own Rumiko Takahashi's characters.

Author's Notes: The chapters in this story have largely been written in response to the prompts given at the livejournal community, dokuga contest (see the link in my profile). I am ever so grateful to the moderators of the community for the challenges and inspiration they have provided.

Please be aware that chapters will consist of short one shots and drabbles, as submitted to the LJ community for challenges and contests.

Current Theme/Prompt: Instinct

1. Fickle Future

She was running, the urge to flee singing in her blood. All she heard was the wild thumping of her heart against her ribcage. All she felt was the cold whipping of the wind against her burning skin. But above the pain and fear, Kagome felt despair tightening its chains around her chest.

"Don't let them take it away from you," he had told her, his voice a hoarse whisper against her cheek. "Protect it with all your might. It's all we have left."

Her lungs screamed for oxygen as she struggled to ignore the burning ache spiking up her calves. Behind her, she could hear the heavy footfalls of her pursuers growing louder by the second. The crumbling grey concrete of snow laced buildings flashed by her as she sped through the narrow alleys, ignoring the shouts that echoed around her. She swerved around a corner, barely managing to keep her footing on the icy pavement.

"There she is!"

Kagome cursed, sliding to a messy stop as she was confronted by a trio of her assailants at one end of the alley she had just turned into. She spun around to dash out the way she came but was met by the sight of three more. With a scowl, she crouched, tensing like a cornered animal.

"Do you feel that?"

"There hasn't been one with this much spiritual energy in centuries!"

They slowly advanced, closing her within their circle.

"How could we have missed her?"

Kagome's eyes darted around, searching for an opening as she crouched and prepared to leap forward. She waited, forcing her panting breaths to slow as they neared her with weapons held high. The demon nearest her reached out a hand, his greedy fingers ready to snatch her freedom away. Swallowing her fear, she lunged forward, ramming her shoulder into his stomach. With a pained grunt, he fell to the cold ground and she launched herself forward, her arms paddling through the air as her feet slipped uselessly on the smooth ice coating the pavement. Just as she finally pushed off the ground in a giant lunge forward, she felt a harsh tug at the hem of her tattered kimono. With a cry, Kagome fell forward onto her palms. She ignored the jolt of pain that shot up her arms from her wrists and scrambled to regain her footing. She yanked the edge of her clothing from the groaning man on the ground and darted away – only to be stopped by iron fingers curling around her wrist and swinging her around forcefully. She spun into a wall, her back cracking painfully against the rough cement. With a pained gasp, she crumpled to the ground.

"I'm surprised she didn't try to purify you." One of the men cautiously approached her still form. He crouched and touched her pale cheek with a gloved finger.

"She did," he answered, lifting his burnt palm for inspection. "It hurt like hell." He stood to brush the snow from his clothes, "Check her out, will you?" He turned to shout at the other hunters. "Stop standing around and get the gear, you idiots."

The demons jumped at the command, running back to fetch the tools they had discarded when they had started to give chase to their prey. Their leader stepped closer to the prone girl, his nose twitching slightly as he inhaled her scent. He dropped to one knee and lifted her limp wrist, sniffing it delicately.

Suddenly, the alley was filled with light. High-pitched screams rent the air as the demon twisted and turned in pain, engulfed in purifying flames. Kagome sat upright, her lips set in a grim line as she gripped his hand and channeled her power into his burning flesh.

As his body fell away, disintegrating into char and ash, Kagome heard the frantic footsteps of his returning comrades. Fighting to control a wave of dizziness, she pushed herself to her feet and took off running in the opposite direction.

From high above, golden eyes tracked her movements with deceptive calm. He was a pale statue, a sentinel in crisp white silk staring down at the events below from the edge of one of the tall buildings. Though he had remained still and silent, the encounter had been excruciating to watch – and when she had been cornered, he'd had to fight the screaming instinct to leap from his perch and obliterate her assailants. After all, if she were killed, Tenseiga would not work for her again.

But he had waited, knowing better, and watched with baited breath. As she ran toward safety, he took to the air, tracking her progress with narrowed eyes. He watched as she scrambled up her ancestral shrine's stone steps with tears in her eyes. Decimated during the Great War, all that remained of her past sanctuary were bits of splintered wood, piles of rubble – and the bone-eater's well, now only a blackened hole in the ground. It must have been a shock, he thought, to see the destruction for the first time. No, he corrected himself, noting the sharp lines of grief etched into her young face. The future was fickle, and exacted pain, fear, loneliness and sorrow like none other. His jaw tightened as, with a heaving sob, Kagome threw herself into the darkness and was caught up in a brilliant flash of light.

When her scent disappeared completely, her watcher gracefully descended from his vantage point. With even, measured steps, he approached the remains of the well and leaned forward slightly to peer into its depths. The time for him to uphold his promise to the miko was near – and he had never been one to go back on his word.

The Lord of the West's lip curled slightly, a sneer directed at the darkness of the well. Soon, Sesshoumaru thought, soon he would rain retribution upon his enemies and those twisted by the traitorous Shikon jewel.

Soon, they would force history to bend to their will.