Symbiosis

"So dark...so pure. So beautiful...but not yet perfect."

Naraku turns the sparkling round gem in his fingers – long, fine fingers, the nails clean and cut blunt and even, the skin pale, shining like gilded ivory in the dusky light of his dim apartments. The jewel is round and perfect to the eye, but as he spins it his fingers encounter the same tiny notch, over and over – a piece not as large as the other shards, curved and tear-drop shaped beneath his fingers.

As if something else had breached the surface – before ever the girl shattered it with her arrow. Or...was one of the shards further damaged? Did Inuyasha seek to thwart my chances, even if I were to think I achieved my goal?

He frowns, stares at the gem in his hands, rich purple, the hue of twilight's sky as night overtakes it all.

It must be perfect, without flaw, if it is to grant a wish. This much I know.

He is unwilling to grant that much foresight to Inuyasha, or even to the girl – to purposefully break what they work so hard to acquire? And he himself does not know how that could be done. It is within his power to separate the jewel into the fragments it has already been broken into. The fact that he can continue to do so even now – it was his first clue that all was not well with his prize.

On the other hand...I do not know how the jewel came to return to this earth. With the girl, this much is certain – but how? And if it was hers, how it was it lost? How was it that she came to be using her own power against that which she was sworn to protect?

He is making the best assumptions he can with the knowledge he possesses, but he does not know that Kagome moves outside of time, and he does not know that she once bore it within her body. The presence of the shikon no tama was obvious to him – that startling power, so familiar, so tempting -

But all he knows of the way the jewel was broken was what he sensed and saw from a hundred miles away. Stories have circulated since then, hearsay and rumor, and he has heard the girl express her own feelings of guilt – has heard Inuyasha's accusing voice, and smiled, because there is the entry he used before, the jealousies of time and attention, the fragile cracks in trust.

Perhaps I can do it again; perhaps, from the very beginning, I should have done what is tried and true; what has always worked, especially against such as these.

It will prove unwise that he has identified Kagome with Kikyou, now, after years of being wise enough not to do so - that he has underestimated her intelligence, and her power...that he has assumed that now, four and a half years after she first arrived in Sengoku Jidai, her feelings for the hanyou are still the same.

The plan is simple; the best plans always are, and he knows this.

Quietly, he crosses Nihon – breaks no walls, destroys no villages, makes no contact with youkai or human, mortal or immortal. He leaves no scent, not a whisper of miasma or a rumor of his name...and slowly, slowly, because he is being, for the first time in years, truly cautious, he begins to collect rumor about the group of companions that has dogged his steps for so long.

The word that comes to him is confusing – the girl seems to disappear at times, vanishing from the casual stories of villagers even while the others continue to wander – priest, slayer, hanyou, youkai. The one called Sesshomaru is the one who concerns him most; it was an error, taunting such a one and not destroying him when he had the opportunity.

I assumed too much because of that missing arm, the apparent weakness. I have suffered for it since; time proved that if I had not provoked him, he would never have come to his brother's aid. Not unless I threatened the whole of Nihon would he attack me, and perhaps not then – perhaps.

In the darkness of a nameless tavern, his eyes closed, his head tilted back, Naraku contemplates the foul odor of humanity and the slightly less foul taste of the drink in front of him. The rumors concentrate, as they always seem to do, around Edo. The village is small, unimportant to him in the greater scheme of things – a reminder of things he would rather forget, of things that would be best if forgotten.

But still, I remember.

The pain...ahh, he would never forget the pain. The fire had roasted him, seared the skin from his deeper tissues in moments, left deep, suppurating wounds – and the smell. The smell of his own flesh crisping like pork, the smell of the smoke, which he knew well – human meat, cooking, his meat, cooking – the smell of the wounds as the infection settled.

And then, one day...

The odors of rain, and mint, and pungent medicine; the face of a woman, a miko: Kikyou. A feeling like nothing that had ever touched him before, when he was deemed worthy of saving -

Oh, how I fought it.

He did not want to be saved; he did not want to admit that once he had other dreams than those of death and violence. The more the miko had pressed him to forgive himself, to beg for forgiveness of the gods, the cruder and crueler his responses became. How had he ever believed she would come to love him, when he taunted her with tales of his mischief, when he described to her the atrocities he had committed, when he spoke of rapes and murders with tender, loving tones?

Did I want her to love me, then? Did I love her, then? I wanted her...oh, how I wanted her.

The longer he was confined, the longer she tortured him with her nearness, her soft naiveté, the more he wanted her. Until he could not longer stand his own desire, and begged the gods for death. Until it became clear that the gods were not listening, and death would not come for him on command – and then it was easy, so easy to take another path. To consume the darkness; to become it. To be overwhelmed by it; until all that was left of Onigumo was emotion, and memory, and Naraku – red eyes in the dark, and a diabolical plot.

And now, I will do it again.

Several weeks pass before he again hears rumor of the group traveling together, girl included; he ponders, for a day or so, the mystery of her disappearances – but it is minor compared to his main problem and he dismisses it with a blink, a sigh. The general direction of their travel is westerly; it is difficult to keep perfect track of them, but he follows at a distance, listening to the words of villagers who speak of such-and-such a youkai's defeat, or the dispelling of a certain curse.

All the while, the same question is reported to him as being on the lips of their saviors - "Have you heard anything about the shikon no tama?" When he hears this, Naraku laughs quietly to himself. He has been too quiet – so quiet that they are beginning to believe there must be more shards of the jewel still free in the world.

Well...if I am honest, that is the likely truth. But I will not tell them that...and I certainly do not think they are smart enough to figure it out on their own.

Even possessing the shikon no tama in near-entirety was not enough to make him invincible, but there was something to be said for revenge, for thwarted plots and years and years of waiting. Something, indeed.

His smile scares away the woman who has come to refill his drink, but he does not notice – instead, his attention focuses on the group that has just come through the door, dry-throated and dark with the dust of the road. His attention sharpens; he dulls the glittering of his eyes, wraps scent and purpose in a cloak of false night. Inuyasha draws many eyes; beside him, the presence of the woman with her weapons and the girl in her odd, obscene clothing are nothing more than footnotes. To Naraku, though, the girl...

Her presence is strong, as always, her power flooded to its maximum potential and writhing through the room untamed. It has the same flavor as Kikyou's power, and that he enjoys – but it is wilder, darker, sharper. As he continues his perusal, he finally senses what he was seeking.

Shikon no tama. So, the girl has it after all.

But her face is light and carefree; there is no caution in her aura, as there should be if she carries such a treasure, such a prize. More carefully, Naraku thrusts his senses forward – the woman, not a true power...but every observation he can make shows her to be relaxed, the only wariness in her the natural wariness that comes with years of training and martial skill. The priest...more dangerous to probe, to prod – but again, no cautious aura, no alertness, no waiting potential...

Inuyasha...Inuyasha is a different story but Naraku cannot believe that this is anything but his usual attitude – that scowl, that stance, the hand close to his sword. Before Inuyasha ever knew his name, before they were real enemies in the usual sense of the word – in the early days, when all he had wanted was Kikyou, Naraku had spent the days after his birth observing Inuyasha; watching him, learning his mannerisms,the sound of his voice, the details of his shape and dress.

All that he learned then tells him that Inuyasha is as relaxed now as he ever is in the presence of others; he is always waiting for judgment to be passed on his existence.

So...none of them are wary, are waiting...do they not know? How could they not know?

Suddenly, he is confronted by a mystery, but he is certain that there is an easy way to solve it.

Sesshomaru, that one...he is not here. Of course; he would not lower himself to enter a human village. I wonder...how close are you, Sesshomaru?

He faces a division of risks. On the one hand, to take the girl and go, astonishing these others with his presence, with surprise. They will never react fast enough to save her; it is unlikely they will even be able to wound him...but -

If the Inu lord is close enough, there will be trouble as I try to flee.

The other option brings immediate danger, or nothing. To stretch his presence, his senses, enough to find Sesshomaru...but in so doing, he will alert Inuyasha and the priest...perhaps even the girl, if she has yet honed her senses far enough.

What do I lose, what do I gain...

He makes the decision in a moment – stands, and sweeps across them room, trailing power sudden and sharply. He hears Inuyasha's obscene exclamation, the screech of steel suddenly drawn, the beginnings of words,being shouted in his direction, and then...

The girl, in his arms, staring at his face with a strange expression – a waiting expression, a thoughtful cast of eyes, a faint amusement in the turn of her lips.

Then they are gone, leaving her companions behind and a shattered hole in the roof of the inn where Naraku had been waiting.

There is more to shock him on this journey; the girl is too comfortable in his grasp, holds willingly but not with fear-whitened knuckles to his robe, peers down with an interested face at the ground wheeling by quickly – and she is not screaming or struggling or begging or attempting to purify him, she is not clawing at him, not trying to escape, not vowing vengeance...

Instead she alternates her perusal of the landscape with perusal of his features – her stare disturbs and distracts him, for her face is startlingly like Kikyou's but her eyes...her eyes are her own, blistering blue, engaging.

He has never before had a captive so willing to be...captivated.

Kagome has been waiting for Naraku to find her. Within her burns a secret knowledge – knowledge which she has not shared with a single companion, not even with Inuyasha.

The last battle should have ended it all. In the month or so that had passed since then, the consequences of losing the final shards of the jewel to Naraku should have been obvious, but...no. The dull humming of her senses pointed her always in one direction, a physical pull that grew that closer she came to its source.

In the past, she had used that pull to lead her across the countryside, seeking the shard of the shikon no tama that she knew would be at the other end. Now, she knows that it leads to Naraku...but she also knows that to bring her companions, her friends, to him would be no good.

What good did it do last time? We nearly died, all of us. Even Sesshomaru was wounded, though he came to the battle late, and ...Naraku won. Wounded, horribly wounded, but..he got away with the jewel, not just a few shards but all of it...all the pieces...except...

She knows for certain what Naraku only suspects; that within her, something lingers – a piece of the jewel, a fragment that was not one of the shards that she sent flying across the land with her arrow. For a long time, she wondered – because the sense that drew her onward towards the shards was a sharp and physical pull, not vague sensation – because untrained and powerless, deprived of all her strength, she still could find the shards, could still feel their presence like a second heartbeat, bound to her flesh.

At first, she thought it was only that the jewel had been part of her since birth – but that was not enough to explain her affinity, to explain how the fragments became whole without intent or interference in her hands; how without effort, her hands were enough to purify it; how easily, since she came to the past, she has been able to access her power, when in the future it does not avail her at all.

When she began to learn her power, to manipulate it, to master uses and forms – then she realized what it was that made her different; the jewel itself, still influencing her, twisting what should be a miko's strength into something almost untameable, something other.

Naraku's presence, the pull of the shikon no tama, the fact that he has not yet made his wish, whatever wish that might be...all those things together are the truth, and she is smart enough, aware enough, to recognize it. She has tracked the truth in her thoughts – and she knows the moment when her life was changed forever, forced along a new path.

Within me – a piece of the gem. So small...tiny. Or I would know; I would have felt it, tearing me inside. The day I was brought back to the past, and the jewel was torn from my side – that day, I was infected. Changed. Not much, but enough...enough that something within me always call out to the rest of that gem; enough to give me power no normal miko should possess – enough to make my strength more than a holy light...enough so that my arrow and Inuyasha's sword, my arrow and Sesshomaru's power, can blend, and merge, and overcome.

That pull, the pull of the thing inside her, is inescapable; she does not think it will ever let her go and she does not think there is any way the jewel can ever be made whole again, outside her death.

If I die like Kikyou – the jewel in my hands. If it is burned with my body; but then the cycle will do nothing but begin again. Or if someone is smart enough to pick through the pieces of my flesh with the sharpest of eyes; will to tear my body into threads, just for inspection.

She thinks Naraku is such a one; and so the truth remains -

Her secret; her knowledge; her doom.

When she walks behind Inuyasha into the inn where Naraku lies in wait, it is with full knowledge of his presence. How could she not know? He carries the jewel with him, and though his own presence is heavily concealed, swathed in physical shadows and other dullness – she knows.

She keeps her eyes from him, and tames her speeding heart; her eyes move back and forth, testing her companions, but she senses nothing from them, sees nothing. A flicker of gaze – yes, he is there, still there, sitting, watching – and she feels tendrils of awareness seeping outward, flickering across her skin. Her power flows wildly in response, dances, darts, embraces the oncoming darkness and then opens like a butterflies wings.

If he notices, he does not say anything.

She smiles, responds to Sango's comment, Miroku's jest – pokes fun at Inuyasha's sulking face. She long ago grew tired of play second-fiddle to a piece of her own soul; could he not look past death to life? Could he not see past the shadow to the living woman standing in front of him? It had been painful, and there had been soul searching – but she had reached the inevitable conclusion and felt better for it.

It had never been her problem. It had never been her at all – it had always been him, and Kikyou. He was blind to anything, to anyone else.

That, too, had hurt – but in a different, cleaner way...and then she had been free, and light, and happier than she had been in a long time – happier than she had been since she had first begun to travel regularly through time.

Then...then had come ennui. Without the emotional investment, without the conflict in her heart, the world had begun to go dull around her. The battles were the same – each one utterly meaningless, as Inuyasha led them in circles, fighting weak youkai and oni, demanding information that none of them could offer. Always the same question - "Where is Naraku?" - and always the same lack of an answer.

She could have led them – could have brought them all right to Naraku's gates...except she doubted their ability to make a difference. She doubted their strength, because Inuyasha and Sesshomaru could not cooperate; because Miroku could not be convinced to stop using the Kazaana, to his detriment; because Sango would not accept that it was best she stay back from the close-fighting, and use Hiraikotsu to keep the field clear of weaker enemies.

She wanted her shot at vengeance; so did Miroku...so did they all.

But the price has been lost battles, over and over...I'm no tactician, but this is ridiculous.

Last time, they had almost died.

Next time, will we be so lucky?

She still did not know how she, herself, had survived. Was it luck? Fate? Some destiny she had yet to fulfill? Whatever it was, she was tired of it. Tired of the same complaints, the same casualties, the same corrections day in, day out...tired of endless battles to no purpose, tired of an enemy that could not be destroyed and would not stop trying to destroy them.

In this moment, sitting ten feet from that enemy and sipping on a cup of tea, Kagome wonders about his interests, his intentions, about what drives him on the endless quest – power? Only that? Can that possibly be enough? And if it is, why does he make such a misjudgment as he is making now?

He is underestimating me. He is thinking, ah – so out of control. Ah, that little girl. He has never thought I was a threat – he has never really counted me among his enemies. Only Inuyasha, and Kikyou – and Sesshomaru, because he made himself so. Miroku he thinks he can destroy on a whim. Sango is no real threat to him, and even she knows it, proud as she is.

So what now? What is it he is planning?

The slivers of his eyes betray nothing to her; suddenly all she wants to do is leap across the room and demand the truth from him – the knowledge of why that she has never possessed.

Maybe then something would change. Maybe then...something would finally happen, and this could all just end.

It had never occurred to her that boredom could be as deadly as a sword -

And then he was moving, sweeping across the room and taking her up, up into the air and out across the spread of the land.

Naraku's first thought was to bring her to his palace, to the deepest, darkest dungeon and leave her there. Cold and fear and hunger would break her easily; pain and terror were tools that came to the front of his thoughts by sheer instinct.

But...

Something in her stare, in her limp body, her quiet, steady attention – it hints to him that none of that may be necessary. In her stillness, she reminds him more than ever of Kikyou...but always those eyes, those blue eyes...

He surprises himself when he puts her down in the Main Hall of a palace he has taken for his own; she surprises him more when she stays where he drops her and does not move except to follow him with her gaze. He goes to the end of the hall and sits upon the cushions there, on a raised dais exposed to the hall by pushed back screens and raised curtains.

"So, girl – somehow, even defeated, you and yours have thwarted me. Would you care to tell me how, or -"

"There is no need for threats, Naraku. I am as tired of endless fighting, pointless battles, and shouted threats as much as you are. But I can't promise an easy solution to your problem."

He raises an eyebrow, gestures with one hand for her to continue. She focuses on his eyes, clear red, brighter than garnet, darker than ruby.

"The shikon no tama – it was born with me into this world. It was part of me until the day I arrived in Edo, nearly five years ago now. A demon tore it from my body, and wounded me in the process; I still bear that scar."

Naraku leans forward in his chair; his eyes on her are hungry, now, and Kagome knows that she has come to the moment of greatest danger. She decides on a half-truth that may save her – for a little while, until she can begin to act on the plan that has been building in her for a long time, now.

It all depends on him.

"There are no shards tearing me inside, nothing solid, nothing to lay hands on...but something of that jewel remains a part of me; I can feel it, always – the rest of the shikon no tama. It tugs on me – pulls me. At first, I thought it was because I was miko; now, I know it is not. And you..."

She steps forward, unafraid, comes closer to him than anyone has willingly come in a long, long time.

"You know it, too – don't you, Naraku?"

His smile is handsome and sinister and she is unsurprised to see that his evil is so elegant, so lovely. He has always been one of the most beautiful men, a rival to Sesshomaru's good looks; it makes the thing she has decided easier – it could be enjoyable, seducing this...man.

"Girl, you interest me; what is the source of this new...attitude? Are you enjoying my presence?"

Kagome takes another step forward, comes to a stop at the foot of the dais. She looks up at him, and then she reaches out one hand and touches his cheek, sends him flinching backwards, startled – but she does not move, lets him come back to the gentle touch of her fingers, to the warmth, to the strangeness of an impossible moment.

"Naraku...what do you want, Naraku?"

He stares at her, feels her fingertips tracing his jawline, curiosity in them, intent he cannot read or identify. He sees conscious decision in her actions, in her movements – but he cannot discern her motives...only a presence, another faint hint, another reminiscence. Kikyou. Not her, but of her; an emulation – and there, he senses just a bit of purpose.

She wants me to want her. Very well, girl. Two can play at that game... and I know it better.

For Kagome, it is a tense moment. She has made her decision by stepping forward; it is dangerous, what she is doing – the memory she is invoking, the path she has chosen to take. It is the path of ultimate sacrifice; her friends will never forgive her, Inuyasha will never forgive her. Her own soul quivers – what is left of it – but there is no turning back. If by making them hate her she can save their lives, their futures...

She will do it, and do her best not to look back.

She waits, holding her breath, for him to say something – anything. She is not prepared for what comes out of his mouth – for the words, so soft, that slither past all her armor and every scenario she had prepared for this moment.

"I want to be loved, girl. Once, I wanted Kikyou – but she is dead, and you are not her. Did you think I wanted power, some ultimate ability, that I required the shikon no tama to strengthen myself? I have all the power I could want; not even you and all your companions together can destroy me now – or did you forget our battle, girl? It was not that long ago."

She shivers, just a little, but her chin comes up and she meets his burning gaze.

"I have a name, Naraku. I'm not girl. I haven't been girl for a long time."

Again, that lift of the eyebrow.

"Oh? You act like I care."

He smirks, shows a line of white, perfect teeth.

"What do you want, girl? Why are you here – why aren't you fighting me? Where is your fear?"

"I'm afraid – it's...it's just not important. I told you, didn't I, that I was tired of fighting? That I knew that there was no point? If I could give you the jewel, especially now that I know your wish – I would do it. But even if I killed myself I don't think it would help; I don't think you'd find what you were looking for in my flesh."

He stares at her, doubt flickering on his face – and then she says it, the thing that she has come this far to say, the reason that she is still standing her, the reason she has not tried to escape.

"I'm here to help you, Naraku. I'm defecting – I'm switching sides – I'm giving up on the shikon no tama, and Inuyasha's endless violence, and a hopeless quest. But I am not here to kill for you; I am not a destroyer."

Her hand drops from where it has remained, touching him, all this time, and he sees her fingers clench into tight fists.

"Will you let me love you, Naraku? I will do my best to fulfill your wish."

His sneer is tight and sharp and fragile.

What a ridiculous statement! What a foolish request!

But...

"Do as you will, girl – let me use you. You volunteer yourself as the cure for my despondency? You want to be my wish?"

Sneer becomes smirk, cruel and knowing.

"Why not? I have nothing to lose - and when you destroy yourself, amusement to gain."

He watches a shudder traverse her body, shake her from head to toe. Then she closes the remaining distance between them, sits beside him on the dais and turns her head to look up at him.

"Tell me about yourself, Naraku – about your dreams, and your feelings, and what you want from the world."

He stares, startled by her sudden presence in his space, by comfort that must be forced, but does not seem so...

So he answers her question.

End of Part I

A/N: At the inspiration and insistence and general...in-ness of my braintwin, Naqaashi, I present...a foray into madness. Naraku, and Kagome, and the force of failure compounded by boredom and a single, tiny piece of change. Onward, my friends!

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