A sinister calm lingered within the shadows of Naraku's castle, the air thick with his malevolent presence. The death of Kikyo, an event orchestrated by his own treachery, had left an emptiness within him; not one of regret, but of an unfulfilled desire to consume and control. It was this emptiness that drew his attention to a hanyō girl in a distant village.

This girl, though not Kikyo, bore a resemblance that stirred something within the dark recesses of his soul. She was not as flawless, not as pure, but she possessed an essence- a faint echo of the priestess who had once been the object of his twisted longing. And for Naraku, that was enough. Enough to awaken a new obsession. Enough to kindle a need to claim her for himself.

He descended upon the village, his actions shrouded in the same cruel inevitability that marked all his schemes. The hanyō was taken from her life, torn from her home and forced into the depths of his castle. Against her will, he bound her to him in a mockery of a marriage, a grotesque parody of devotion.