Day 1

It would seem the humans do not possess the guts to kill me. When I escape this prison, I shall make them regret it.

Naraku paused, and then put his pen down; one of the very few things afforded to him when he was imprisoned and left to rot by the humans and their pet hanyou. That would suffice for a journal entry. When they wrote a book on the greatest demon lord in existence, they would not need to know of how dank and dark the prison was; nor the stench that filled the room as he wrote. The smell of waste. They would not need to know how he was cold or miserable or lonely. He had always been lonely, though. There was little new there. Even now, a very deep part in his soul longed to be touched by his mate. If he ever met them; which now seemed so unlikely.

They would not need to know of how utterly he had lost the battle, completely defeated by a small group of humans and one very overpowered hanyou. They would not need to know how he wished they had killed him. They would not need to know that if he knew of a way to kill himself, he would have done it by now.

They would not know how utterly devoid of hope he was. He knew, inside himself, that he would never escape his prison.

Day 6

I wish to kill something.

He wanted to kill millions of people, covering the ground with carnage. He wanted to drink of the blood of his enemies. He wanted to tear off the cute little ears of the hanyou that put him in here. He wanted to feel his hands crush the brains of the little girl that had been the true reason for his downfall. If he could just destroy her little miko powers, he could escape this prison. If he was immune to them, the humans would have never been able to touch him, let alone encage him in this magical barrier that worked only for him.

He tried to focus on thoughts like these, rather than how he needed someone, anyone, to speak with. Or even to see. The need for some sort of company was deeper than his need for food or water or hygiene. It was deeper even than his longing for a mate.

Day 9

I wish a book of verse.

He had already exhausted everything he had memorized of late, speaking it into the stillness. The silence was deafening, almost seeming to surround him. He had even tried singing, as human as that sounded, to dispel the silence. But everything just seemed to die on his throat, as he looked into the darkness. There was something fundamentally wrong with the nothingness he faced every day when he woke. He preferred a fearsome beast, or the torture of hell, to the endless expanse of nothingness that encompassed about him every day, every hour but the one when the miko's spell allowed him the faintest of lights he could write by.

He wanted to hear someone's voice but his own.

Day 13

I will escape. There is no other option.

Naraku did not admit the countless attempts he had already made. The silence and the darkness were making him desperate. Why could he not force his voice to make a noise? His throat had closed up. Perhaps it was all the singing and reciting of verse. Perhaps it was not having water for eight days. Perhaps, he was nearly crazy enough to admit it, he was too afraid and hopeless even to speak.

He did not need someone to talk to. Not to touch. Not to see, even. He just needed them to be there.

Day 16

The light the miko provides is becoming dimmer, and lights for less time. Does not mean the barrier is getting weaker. Have tested that theory already.

Naraku tried to conceal the pain he was in. Though the barrier did not shock him as he tried to escape, only acted like a wall, he had thrust his body against it the last ten hours. It refused to break. Only his body did.

He tried to grasp at the light, his only hope in the world.

If it died, he did not know he would possess the strength to survive

He didn't know if he possessed the strength to survive as it was.

Day 26

The humans sent an idiot to clean. Will exploit his weaknesses.

Naraku refused to write about the naked hope that he felt when the door to his prison was opened. The only thing that stopped him from embracing the person was his utter lack of strength. He just lay there, basking in the light of the sun, and staring worshipfully at the man. He had lasted twenty six days. Twenty six days without food or water. Three days without light. Twenty three days pining for any sort of company at all.

"Kagome sent me down here." Inuyasha said gruffly. "The stink was starting to waft up through the door, and she hates that kind of stuff." He coughed awkwardly.

Naraku stared blankly, wishing he had any sort of strength he could spend, so he could prove their captivity hadn't affected him as it had. Inuyasha gave him a look that was unrecognizable, and then picked up the pail and left, closing the door behind him.

It made sense that he would just do that. It would be all the proof the miko needed that Inuyasha had done as was required of him. Naraku laughed a dry, humorless laugh. His first encounter with another person, and it was over faster than it had begun. In truth, he felt like he had been pushed from a cliff. The darkness in his soul began to envelop him, and he was too far gone to even be anything but alone.

Ten minutes later, though, Inuyasha returned, with arms full of lanterns, mops, rags, and a bucket full of bottles and sponges. Then he left, coming back with a giant basin of water. He struggled down the steps with it, and then finally set it down in the center of the room, right under the sunlight. Then, he began to help Naraku undress. Naraku suppressed a jolt when Inuyasha's hands touched him. It felt…right. Like nothing ever before. He basked in the attention, until Inuyasha finally set him, gingerly, in the water.

He was dead, he decided. He had died in the awful prison, and had somehow managed to snag a spot in heaven. That was the only explanation. He lay like that for an hour, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on his face. He looked over at Inuyasha, who was scrubbing the wall furiously.

Why was he being so kind? Naraku couldn't find a reason why, and knew it wasn't to be trusted. But still…he had not felt so good in a long time. More than twenty six days. Maybe his whole life. He tried to put his finger what it was that made him feel so wonderful at that moment.

Finally, Inuyasha finished cleaning. Naraku sighed morosely, knowing the moment of respite was over. He didn't know if he could go back to how it was.

Then, Inuyasha pulled out a bar of something. He rubbed his hands on it, forming foam, and then Naraku felt the hanyou begin to clean his body. It felt so wonderful. Like a new heaven. He never, ever wanted it to stop. Then Inuyasha's hands pulled away, only to begin to massage his scalp. When he had finished, he guided Naraku out of the bath, helping him to get dressed in new, clean clothes. Then he left, only to come back with a warm loaf of bread and some fruit, along with a full jug of water.

"There." He said. "Now you can go back to being the evil, twisted demon we all know and hate. It's disturbing seeing you…weak." He announced, before finally leaving for good.

It was only when his loneliness returned that Naraku realized it. When Inuyasha had been there, he had not felt lonely for the first time in his life.

Day 27

The lackey returned today. Unclear what his motives are.

"Kagome forced me to come." Inuyasha announced the second day, gruffly pulling a book from one of his sleeves. "She's making me do her homework for her, reading a bunch of stupid poems.

"Why does that make you need to come here?" Naraku cut off his insult. He had to be nice to Inuyasha, or the hanyou wouldn't come back. It was something Naraku was gladly willing to endure if it meant he would not have to be in the silence any more. Inuyasha didn't respond, though, only started reading.

"A Noiseless, patient spider,

I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;

Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,

It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;

Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,

Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;

Till the bridge you will need, be form'd—till the ductile anchor hold;

Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

"By Walt Whitman." Inuyasha finished, effectively ruining the spell he had cast with his voice. He yawned. "Man, this is boring!" He tossed the book to Naraku, and he caught it effortlessly. "Read that for me, will you? I'll leave the lantern with you. Then you can sum it up for me tomorrow."

"Coming tomorrow too? Desperate for my company?" How did he know I wanted a book of prose? A light? Why did he have to comfort me so perfectly?

"More like I enjoy forcing you to do my work like my little slave. It's very satisfying." He smirked, and Naraku was reminded again that the hanyou wasn't being kind. This was just his twisted way of gloating, as he fulfilled the miko's wishes.

Day 50

I believe I will inform the idiot of his foolishness. I wish him gone.

The day had finally come when he lied to his journal, and not merely by omission. He smirked. He had reached a new low.

"The miko wouldn't know if you didn't come here." Naraku said, cursing himself for it. Of course the hanyou hadn't realized that before now. Now he would be gone, leaving Naraku to himself forever. What had possessed him to say such a stupid thing? It could not be pity for his enemy, seeing him work so hard every day to make it as clean as he could. No. He was just disgusted by the hanyou's do-goody presence.

Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true. If he couldn't lie to himself, though, who could he lie to?

"I don't think anyone deserve to get shoved into a hole and forgotten about." Inuyasha answered, tension filling his frame. "Not even you."

"Besides," Inuyasha added, almost to himself, "I never was very good at holding grudges"