Kagome sneezed as dust tickled her nose, her right hand grasping onto the wardrobe, steadying herself as she felt herself wobble. She gave a hiss as a jolt of pain shot up her left arm as it smacked into the wall. She cradled the broken appendage into her chest and gave a sigh.

"Kagome are you okay?" came the voice of her mother.

She gave a small huff as she looked to the ground where a photo book lay, "I'm fine, just tripped," she called back to her.

Kagome felt her curiosity peak at the album, picking it up, she made her way towards her mother's bed and sat on it. The soft fabric cushioned the book as she lay it down.

A hum made its way up her throat as she flipped it open to a random page, and gave a small smile.

Her baby photos!

A giggle slipped through her partially parted lips as she flipped through them. The sound was cut off however as she got to her first pictures.

"What the hell?" her eyes widened in shock as she processed what she was looking at.

Her hair was black, like normal but was tipped with white. Her eyes were completely different, showing black sclera, and golden irises with slitted pupils.

With the book in hand, she made her way down the stairs into the kitchenette, where her mother was cooking dinner.

"Mom, I have a question for you," she whispered, her knuckles turning white with the grip she had on the item.

The older woman turned around, "What is," her question stopped short as she gazed upon the photo album that her daughter held, "oh, Kagome."

She turned the stove onto the lowest setting before leading the younger of the two to the dining table. The duo sat for a minute before she began to talk.

"I was going to tell you," she started, "when you weren't so jumpy and you felt at least a little safer."

Kagome watched as her mother thought about her wording, allowing her fingers to trace the spine of the book.

"I'd originally planned to tell you on your sixteenth birthday, but you spent that in the hospital because of Him," she spat the last word out with distaste.

Kagome looked down at the floor as she remembered what had happened. The doctors had told her it was a miracle that she'd survived, given the appalling state she was in.

She had no memory of it, but her mother had told her there was a lot of things exposed that shouldn't be, from bones to the more sensitive and fleshy type of internal object.

What she did remember however was pain. Both physical and emotional.

Her hand moved to her chest as she remembered the piercing of his claws moving through her skin, the copper tang of her blood in the air. She remembered tears rapidly falling down her cheeks as her heart clenched in betrayal.

She'd screamed in denial, and then knew only the inky darkness of unconsciousness.

She had expected to die, and yet she woke up in the hospital.

"You've not been in the right mind since, I can tell. You barely sleep anymore, as though you're afraid he'll come back, and I'm worried," her mother's voice bought her out of her memories, "you're paranoid. I get that. I'd be paranoid too. It just wasn't the right time to tell you, and I'm only telling you now, because you found out first."

Kagome nodded slightly in acceptance of this statement.

"This is a long story, darling, but you don't want to hear about how I escaped prison and Martin. You want to hear about the Isles."

Kagome gaped slightly at her mother.

"Now, now, Kagome," the older woman chuckled, "listen closely."