Chapter Four: Angie, Angie

A lone demoness stood outside in the rain. She screamed blue fire at the sky above, then dropped to her knees, sobbing. She buried her face in her hands, her long, white hair clinging to itself in many rain-induced strands of pain. She violently ejected her face from her hands when she realized they were still coated in blood. She stared down into a puddle and saw that it was now all over her face. The howled in violent emptiness as her brain made the connection that the blood, like the utter feeling of soul destruction, was spreading to overtake her whole body. Only a few feet in front of her, the body of a human lay eternally motionless in front of her. It had only been about a half an hour ago. The cold knife on her neck, the hand prodding her entire body to deprive her of all her earthly possessions, the cold knife entering her neck, the feeling of her bare leg tearing through flesh, the shocked expression on his face when he realized his light was fading out for ever, and finally the wave of shock that overtook her when she realized what she had done. She had killed a man. With only a single action, she had ended decades of life. She couldn't even contemplate what she had done.

You had to. He was going to kill you, her brain told her. She didn't believe it. She should've left him a little bit alive. She should have… tied him up and taken him to justice. She didn't have any rope, and authorities didn't usually listen to demons. She should have beaten him to the exact point of unconsciousness. Do you really think you could have found that exact point? It was an eternal struggle. The rational part of her brain trying desperately to hold on against the violent waves of her emotions. She should've… used softer blows. He would've killed you. No matter how she thought about it, she had done no wrong. But she needed to think she had done something bad, something evil. How else could she justify the dull burning of guilt in her chest? She couldn't, but it was there. So she decided not to rationalize, and she just wept.

Kouga was on the move. Now was the time when he would finally extract the revenge he'd been looking for in the name of all he'd seen fall. And the weather was perfect. Naraku's blood would mix with the rain, and a masterpiece of red would dance across the canvas of the Earth.

Just perfect, thought Naraku, running as fast as he could in his temporary body, This pathetic wolf somehow manages to find me before my new body is ready. And where is Kagura? Kagura, meanwhile, sat perched on a cliff, waiting. Her enslaver, the one she had tried so desperately to rid herself of, was going to die. She couldn't let him see her now. Her only desire was to come down to Earth, just as the wolf was finishing him off, and strike the final blow, ceremoniously, with the dagger she was at present using to hold her hair up. It wasn't sharp enough to cut hair on contact. Perfect. Payback for all the times he had lightly squeezed on her heart, sending waves of pain through her body. It was beautiful.

Naraku had other plans. He darted towards the tree line. Once inside, he darted left, then right, then left again. Kouga was only beginning to realize how screwed he was when he looked up and saw Kagura. Great, he thought, I'm going to die. To his surprise, however, she motioned her finger to his left. He understood and went left. She motioned right. Naraku looked up. Kagura began moving her hands haphazardly, as if nonchalantly swaying in the breeze. Naraku bought it. Kouga didn't get it. He began running left and right, finally falling over a rock and landing unceremoniously on his face. Naraku continued in a straight line. Kagura tried to follow, but felt a familiar tug on her chest that said, "I know what you're thinking." It was over. She pulled the dagger out of her hair, shed a tear in frustration, and contemplated digging it into her arm. The blood would be like a penance to herself. Then she regained her senses and reconsidered. There would be other chances.

Naraku was in the clear now, both literally and metaphorically. The trees had ended, and so had the wolf hunting him down. He looked out ahead and saw a small woman in red on her knees. He saw more than that, he saw a weak and wounded soul. Perfect. He walked over. He saw the corpse, the blood still dripping from both halves. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Look in front of you!" Angie wailed, "I killed a man."

"Life is fragile and worthless. Don't feel guilty about ending it," Naraku said.

"You're sick!" exclaimed Angie, starting to back away.

"No, that's not what I meant," said Naraku. Clearly this was not the route to take, "My mind was… elsewhere. What I meant to say is that I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Why did you kill him?"

"He tried to rob me," responded Angie, "And then… kill me." She spoke almost as if it was a guilty admission.

"Well then, what are you worried about? You had every reason to kill him," said Naraku. It was weird, talking as if he had morals.

"There must have been another way," said Angie. She was still demanding a rationale for her guilt, and still trying desperately to find one.

"There was nothing else you could do," said Naraku, "Sometimes death is inevitable."

"But I could have avoided it," said Angie.

"At the cost of your own life," said Naraku.

"Maybe," said Angie, her own pain easing away, being replaced by frustration at fighting a losing argument. It only flickered for a second, then nothing. She was fine now. "Who are you?"

"My name is Naraku," said… Naraku.

"The one they all keep talking about?" asked Angie.

"Yes," said Naraku, "But don't listen to them."

"So then the stories aren't true?" asked Angie.

"Some of them," responded Naraku, "Just the bad ones."

"Really," remarked Angie. Why had he worded it like that? It sounded too much like a lie. It was as if he had said, "I swear I'm good always."

"A lot of people have a lot to gain from a lot of other people wanting me dead," said Naraku. It was technically true, but not in the way he was wording it.

"I understand," she said. She identified, as did all demons, and it instilled in her a dangerous trust. "Why are you out of breath?" These words sent a thought into her mind: The man I killed will be out of breath forever. This sent another wave of sadness straight to her brain, and she began shaking. Naraku thought now would be a good time to dodge her question. He just stood and waited a few minutes for her to calm down. When she did, she had forgotten asking a question. There was a long, awkward silence in the conversation. Finally, Naraku said something.

"You'll feel better in a moment," he said. This reminded Angie that she wasn't feeling better now, and she felt dizzy for a second. She didn't associate her pain with Naraku saying anything, so instead perceived Naraku's words only as kind.

Naraku could see his plan coming together. In only a few seconds, he would have a new disciple. He had walked in just as she was about to start feeling better, so she would perceive that he was making her feel better. From there, he was only cementing the sweet unilateral deal. But he lacked her trust. That would take weeks. He asked her to come back to Mt. Hakuré. She did. Over the next few weeks, she came back again and again. Finally, it was showtime. Kagura rushed in. "Everyone's here," she said.

Naraku turned to Angie with prosthetic concern. "You have to get out of here," he said, "They're coming."

"Who?" asked Angie.

"I can't tell you," said Naraku, smiling on the inside. It was all so perfect. If it had been modern times, he would have thought, Just like in the movies. She trusted the crap out of him. She was trustalicious. She trusted him so much he couldn't even think of stupid ways to express how much she trusted him. Kanna led her out of the mountain, and she watched from a distance as the entire mountain collapsed. She stood there for hours wondering what had happened to the one she had confided in so much over the past few weeks. Finally, he returned. His body, his new body, was torn everywhere. There was blood dripping, and some unidentified substance that she didn't ask him about (it was the substance Kikyou had bled during their encounter).

"So who did this to you?" asked Angie.

"Angie, I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone," said Naraku, "There's a half-demon by the name of Inuyasha. He's wanted to kill me ever since I persuaded his girlfriend to back out of their relationship. He was hurting her."

"That's horrible," said Angie.

"I… I know this might be a bit much to ask of you, but I need you to kill him for me," said Naraku.

"I don't think I could," said Angie.

"If you don't, he'll kill me," said Naraku.

"Well, I guess I have no choice," said Angie.

"It's for the best," said Naraku, "Hey, you could get your sisters to help you."

"I'm not telling them about any of this," said Angie, "I could never get them wrapped up in this kind of thing. But I'm not just going to wander off and not tell them why. I'll figure it all out later."

"If you think you're up to the task," said Naraku.

"I do," said Angie, "I'd do anything to protect you from the harsh injustices of demonic prejudice."

Naraku smiled. An inwardly twisted smile, but from outside it looked warm. His minion was ready. His soldier was trained. And she had no idea.

END

Author's Notes: Just in case you haven't figured it out yet, this chapter took place before the rest of the story. It's not a flashback per se, we all know that flashbacks don't exist. Just tell that to THE SPIDERS! OH THE SPIDERS! Anyways, flashbacks tend to occur from one person's perspective. Also, by the time you read this, I'll already be working on C5: To Put Through The Shredder In Front Of My Friends.