Author Notes: Very vague, very short, which is very unusual for me, but I'm rather proud of it. Just a little whim in between writing the next chap of Thy Soul of Sin.Wrote it in one go when the first line would not leave me head. And it's also in present tense, which I rarely ever do. Meh. This is what happens when I think too much. Enjoy!

disclaimer: disclaim'd

warnings/notes: NarKag, dark-ish, slight angst.

All I Desire
by scelerus animus

– o –

If she, divinely beautiful, was the embodiment of innocence and purity, then he, darkly addictive, was evil incarnate.

Now, together, even if she is sure to keep a steady distance from him, they venture amongst a ghastly field of slaughtered corpses.

Her sapphire eyes vacantly look upon the oceans of spilt blood, shining, glittering an eternal crimson, and she is near crying.

His triumphant gaze, as dark and bloody as the field of careless death, elatedly looks upon those putrid cadavers and feels not the slightest bit of empathy, only the euphorically sweet taste of victory on his acerbic tongue.

For in defeating them—wretched, useless beings they were—he has gained her. Completely.

Languidly sauntering around another grotesque pile of decaying flesh, bone, blood, he watches her bend down, pale porcelain hand hovering over the mangled, bloody mass of what appears to have once been luscious white hair.

Those slender fingers quiver fiercely, the tremble traveling through her entire body in one violent shudder, and then she clenches her fist together. Snatches it away from the corpse as if suddenly afraid. Holds it close to her breast, spine awkwardly hunched tight to her legs in a faint fetal position.

Brilliant sapphire eyes turn towards him, desperate, broken. At this, he is not worried. Instead, the corners of his mouth curve into a wicked smirk, sharp inhumane fangs flashing, because he knows that a being such as her—celestial-like, unnaturally crafted of innocence and purity—once shattered will rise even more powerful than before.

And this time he will control this power.

Because as the light will crave the darkness but never act on those cravings, the darkness will take what it wants, when it wants it.

And he has wanted her for far too long a time.

Besides, hewas not the one to brutally, carelessly create the first cracks in her delicate heart.

Though there is still several yards of useless, bloody, rotting garbage between them, he can easily discern the word she silently mouths—silently, because her voice has temporarily left with the lost souls of the dead; it will return in due time—the word that has become her aching, forlorn mantra for these past gloriously blood-filled days.

Why? she pleads wordlessly, helplessly, like a lonely flower that grows in the heart of a scorching, isolated dessert.

He responds aloud but he does not bother to raise his deviously silken voice because she knows the vilely truthful words he will say: "Their deaths were necessary because they were unnecessary to me. They were useless while you, my beautiful miko, aren't."

He sees her sapphire eyes, all that more beautiful glistening with painful tears, squeeze shut as another fierce shudder follows a deep, gasping breath.

Now, she finds her voice, a cracked, wretched sound that is gratifyingly melodious in all its despondence to his ears.

"B–but… but did they…" she asks, knowing the answer, "…d–did they all have to die…?"

"Is that not what you wanted, Kagome: to be useful, to be needed?" he coolly queries in reply, breathing deeply the decadently delicious smell of copper and death.

He has played this game with her before. Nevertheless, he does not tire of it. Now that he knows he has her, he has learned patience.

"Yes…" she confesses bitterly. "Yes! This is what I wanted; this is it! All I have left! This is—this is… all of it! All I have left—is you, Naraku, you! Are you happy now, Naraku?"

"Are you, Kagome?"

Then, she laughs. She laughs and cries—a hauntingly harsh laugh and stinging, silvery tears that leave shimmering streaks down her pale porcelain face twisted in unwanted clarity, unwelcome understanding.

Because through all her sorrow and self-induced torture, she knows that she is happy. She is truly, finally happy.

Though she likes to believe otherwise, she knows that when she had first seen him in all his sinfully dark, addicting beauty with his precariously entrancing blood scarlet eyes, she had not actually been led into a warped, deceitful trap but had followed him willingly.

And, likewise, she will do this now.

So she laughs and cries, and mourns and rejoices. Without care, she does this amongst the blood-splattered fields and massacred remains of those she had once known and maybe even loved, because this had been what she wanted. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Nonchalantly, he rolls his shoulders as if hehas known he would win all along, although that malicious, victorious smirks still twists his pale lips, and he unreservedly watches her with possessiveness gleaming in his demonic scarlet eyes.

Certainly, he was the one to cruelly, selfishly break her in the end, but not the one to deal the first ruthless strikes.

Either way, he will be the only one to be there as she is magnificently reborn. Now, in her compassion and pain, her innocence and purity, she is beautiful, but soon her beauty and naive power would unknowingly engulf the world, and she still would be his.

Thus, the end of the world begins tonight, with her by his side.

– Owari –

End Notes: As I said, vague, but it's meant to be that way, heh. Maybe if I'm ever inclined to do so, I'll write some more about it, maybe a sequel or something, but at the moment I'm happy as it is. But who knows? -shrugs- Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

Reviews are very much appreciated!

– scelerus animus