DISCLAIMER: The show of Inuyasha does not belong to me, nor do the characters that appear here. I just like writing them in absurd pairings.

NOTE: This story has shades of rape in it. There is nothing graphic by any means, but if this offends you; read no further. Also, this story's darkish, so don't blame me for any psychological damage.

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It was a warm spring day. The maiden went to the meadow; a basket clutched in her hand. A basket to be filled with natural, woodland gifts. To gather flowers presumably, for what else does a girl at the height of their innocent youth desire? Beautiful, tender things that haven't been touched by human hands. Younger blooms are best for they are the most vibrant. A special pride fills the picker because of their good fortune to pluck such a perfect, recently discovered blossom when they plunk it in their vase full of unnaturally cold running water. Even when the flower dies in the suffocating confines of the house. Never again will the flower feel the summer breezes or sunlight's kiss. Instead, it will rot and die. It is said the flower expires as soon as you from rip its haven.

Kagome was picking flowers that day. Cruel, cruel girl! Ripping the posies from the earth; condemning them to death in her wicker basket. Could she not observe their beauty from afar and let them grow ever taller in peace?

Twist. Another life gone. Pop. Another existence ended.

It's a wonder seedlings sprout when such wickedness walks the land.

---

The trees hemmed in around her as if cocooning her from a harsh world. Little did she know, it was a prison she would never hope to escape from. Viridian shadows were her companions. The sun had hid behind a cloud, desperately wanting to avert its gaze from the inevitable.

The winds turned cooler, bringing with it a poisonous stench. Each breeze carried a voice. Turn. Back. Now. Did little Kagome listen? Nature, her favored companion, forgave her for its misdeeds, so why did she go further? Why did she stray off the path her loving friend had thoughtfully carved for her wandering feet?

The clouds were gray and threatening. The raging gusts tore at her clothes. Meanwhile, the leafy boughs above swung wildly, urging her away. The leaves rustled. They begged her, but she needed one last conquest.

Up ahead was a disturbing, unnaturally captivating lily. Its curving petals were blood red and it was perfectly formed. What a captivating find! Such a stunning flower. Strange that it grew apart from the rest, but then loneliness always promised a sweeter gain.

Fingers trembling, she reached for the scarlet lily. She cried out all of a sudden when a clawed hand wound around her wrist and threw her onto the grass. The startled maiden was left looking into the scarlet eyes of a demon. His curving hair easily blended with the nighttime shadows around them. He had chosen her as his captivating new find.

Forcible hands ripped through clothing while his lips claim hers. Little Kagome eyes widen when his movements intensified and unexpected pleasure grew through her. She had nary an opportunity to scream. Their ebony manes blended together on the dirt while the basket lay forgotten on the roadside.

---

Her own hands shake now while she holds the white plastic applicator and the cerulean line appears.

She had thought she was always responsible, always careful. Intentionally, she told no one of the escapade. There was to be no repercussions. Not like this.

Back when Kagome and her girlfriends were younger, they had giggled about this topic in human development. They always naively thought it couldn't happen the first time.

She understood why she had felt so poorly and why she had felt his very spirit pulsing inside of her, even in the privacy of her own bathroom in her own era.

Tears slipped past her cheek. What could she do? Nothing, a voice whispered. Keep it. Her own ethics and moralities would have answer the daunting question for her, but this mental voice inside was not hers alone.

A puddle of tears glistened on the tiles. The spray of pink flowers on the wooden shelf above were her only witness. They commented on nothing, for they were merely waxy plastic.

---

She can no longer sense them. Strange how such an inborn talent could be forgotten like an old pastime. Playing dress-up or mothering dolls for instance. Picking flowers is yet another example.

First, her companions are concerned. However, as depression colors her world gray and the tears cease to stay inside, they grow angry. They ask her what is wrong, but she cannot say the words.

The white-haired hanyou gazes on with disgust and tells her to return to her field of wildflowers. Maybe there she could gather a clue.

Sobbing, the girl shakes her head no. She knows what or whom she will discover in the bushes if she goes.

---

Back in her bedroom, she stares into the mirror. A bruised and cracked reflection smirks back. Her eyes are red-rimmed and are ready to overflow at any given moment. Her ebony hair was lank and unwashed. She had not gone back to school for two weeks.

Clutching her pillow to her chest, she wonders why he has done this to her. Why did he condemn her to this hell?

It sickens her when she thinks upon the being she carries, but it intrigues her all the same. It will be powerful. Extremely so. Indeed, the emotions between unborn child and unwed mother are already connected. Then she feels the being's maker on the other end of the chain.

A smile! Had a smile crossed her battered, pale features just now when she imagined the being would have the scarlet red eyes of his father?

Screaming, she snatched up the potted orchid from her bedside table and sent it crashing through the mirror. Her reflection was in pieces. Another flower died that day.

---

She is beginning to show, and her school uniform will no longer fit. She couldn't tell her parents; she couldn't explain. How could she tell her mother or Inuyasha she had been ravaged by the enemy and did nothing to halt his efforts? More importantly, how could she deliver this abnormal child in a modern hospital?

Kagome decided to run away that night. Under the harsh moonlight, she crept into the well: a midnight shadow. There, in the feudal era, she could hide. From anyone but him. When she emerged; she found him waiting for her, his scarlet eyes shimmering.

Without a sentence, she took his hand. It wouldn't have surprised her if he had brought a bouquet.

---

Fiery pain contracted through her as she brought a son into this decrepit, gloomy castle. In spite of this description, the castle had become a safe haven for her. Indeed, she had come to crave protection in its grime-encrusted walls and hoped this child would have the same courtesy.

Wailing, the little baby in question gazed up at his mother. The infant had scarlet eyes.

Silently, Kanna wrapped their son in a blanket and placed him in his father's arms.

Naraku looked on approvingly.

"What shall we name him?" she whispered; her throat dry.

"Unmei," he replied.

Unmei. Destiny. Could it be any other name? The child would have a glorious destiny full of ambition and warfare. Yes, the three would scorch the very earth: the two demons, the incarnations, and the formerly pure priestess that would be wife and mother.

And for the first time in nine months, Kagome felt almost happy.

---

The stars spread out across the heavens. Baby Unmei pointed a chubby finger up at them and smirked. In that instance, he looked precisely like his father.

Kagome held her son and could scarcely be recognized. A long kimono of sable and forest green swirled around her mature form. She was no longer a freshman girl or a sweet daughter of fifteen years. She was now the bride of a demon, and darkness was her domain.

Naraku strolled beside her in the evening inkiness, playfully ruffling his son's hair. Those two would never stop trying, and neither would Inuyasha and his gang. As for her, she would defend her family. This family.

The piercing conclusion came one lonely sunset in her seventh or eight month. Weeping in the abandoned garden on the castle grounds, she came upon a gorgeous, lush, scarlet rose. Wondrously, she touched it; hoping its beauty would relieve her anguish. She never could resist a pretty flower.

Whimpering, agony suddenly struck her hand as the cut on her fingertip welled with blood. Strangely enough, the hurt brought back her senses. Had she risked pain to take such a trivial thing? What a fool she had been. Clarity rushed over her and it became apparent what path she should take.

Now, Naraku walked beside both his prizes. Darkness was their domain. Nothing could sprout in the pitch-black night to her relief. Or, so she had believed.

Near Kagome's foot, she noticed a daisy. She leered hatefully at the plant.

And the daisy laughed.

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Why do I feel I will be flamed for this? Okay, this was written in one of my darker periods. Ah, it's so good to have that out of me. This story carries some shades of the Hades/Persephone myth. (Which I am absolutely fascinated with, btw.) I've had this idea for a long time, and I sort of tried the disjointed writing style and basically wrote what came to mind. This work was sort of inspired by "Into His Parlour" by Kei the Incarnadine Goddess and Elementsofmine's "Stained Red." (Really amazing authors. Every NarKag fan should read their stories.)

For clarification, the theme of this story is not to be too innocent or foolish. You stray away from the path to get a flower, you may meet a raging beast. The flowers themselves represent Kagome's innocence. Throughout the story where the flowers are given personality, it's purely for twisted dramatic effect. At the end, the flower laughs because Kagome is finally torn apart and will no longer think of picking and destroying another bloom for her selfish, "innocent" desires. Damn, that sounds perverse, but I promise I'm not crazy, okay? Thanks for reading through my rambles and if you like or hate; please leave a review. :)