The Great Trial

 

XI: Biting and Clawing

 

Don’t be fooled by the title. It almost got me too. Please read and review, forgive the grammar mistakes.

 

This night...will never end...

 

Half-aware, the young kitsune returns to some form of consciousness, registering sharp agony at the first impression. He is too weak to really scream, but the moan of agony is muffled behind a gag tied in his mouth. Even in the frigid air, his face thumps with hot pain from the broken cheekbone and nose on which he just happens to be laying.  At least the smelly guys aren’t holding him standing and don’t seem to be milling around anymore. He’s laying on the cold ground, clothing torn and bloody, caked in mud and grime. His arms are pulled at the small of his spine and bound tight enough to make his shoulders ache; ankles and knees also lashed together to keep him from gaining his feet and running.

 

I’m alive...

 

But who knew for how long. As a full demon, Shippo had earned his share of wounds in the Kitsune training academy, but nothing compared to the pain radiating throughout him.

 

Am I bleeding inside? Will I die?... If Kagome were here, she’d have a magic cure out of her bag and give me some candy or crayons.

 

The blood loss and beatings have gotten to him—possibly a concussion with the amount of blood drying on his forehead and the base of his skull. He opens his eyes to nothing but blurry darkness—blinking only helps a little bit. He can make out the invaders sitting in small groups around their fires, one or two awake to keep watch while the rest sleep. They’ll probably wake and move out soon...but he doesn’t know if they’ll take prisoners or not.

 

It’s...’kay. At least I tried to do something right. InuYasha woulda done the same thing.

 

His body relaxes.  Even with the possibility of dying, the little fox is brave enough not to be afraid.

 

However, he jerks when hands smooth over his back in what is supposed to be a soothing gesture.  A male voice speaks their weird language softly, almost whispering. In his disorientation, Shippo gets nothing from it. He curls in on himself, pulling his knees up to his chest as far as he can until the pain makes him whimper against the gag. Like fire in his belly, the broken ribs grate bone on bone.

 

One hand keeps stroking his back while another brings a damp cloth to his forehead, the cold jarring him out of the haze. The hands push him over on his side and a pair of muddy knees are right by his face. Shippo makes an attempt to slither back, but a palm presses over his abdomen and his breath whooshes out in agony. Tears come to his eyes, and all Shippo can think about is how stupid it is to cry. After all that crap to Kouga about not being a kid anymore, and he’s crying like a baby over injuries InuYasha would be laughing over.

 

I’m so pathetic right now...

 

To make his shame more acute, the hand against his abdomen is pushing harder against the broken ribs and that smooth voice is still talking gently. Shippo grunts and his small body turns again, his shoulders, neck, and head are propped up on the invader’s knees for the kitsune to lay boneless amidst the pain. Hands pull his shirt up and the smell of herbs and sunshine waft from one side.  The hands rub the poultice gingerly over the bruised and torn skin in some attempt to alleviate the agony.

 

From this vantage, Shippo’s vision finally clears to see the foreigner’s face intent on treating what wounds he can. Out of his furred coat (is that one of my cousins? Comes from nowhere as he catches the fox fur on one shoulder), the invader pulls a long strip of bandages and reaches to wind the first half around Shippo’s abdomen.  The pressure makes him yelp abruptly behind the gag, but actually does make it feel somewhat better... The hands seem to be warm, or getting warm to ease the hot, angry ache in his face and chest. This one guys seems to be okay, or so Shippo can guess. It doesn’t matter in the long run, though. There’s gonna be more, and the kitsune knows it.

 

Well, if they want to treat him in order to torture him for more information, well, that would be fine. He’s never going to give these jerkwads anything.  All he can do is bide him time, hope to get the knots around his wrists loose, and stall like he’s never stalled before. 

 

II

The dense forest is a minefield of hidden branches, holes, hibernating animals, and slippery spots of ice and slush. Regardless, Kouga shoves himself through. Around him, armored soldiers pace just as quickly even though the majority is exhausted, hungry, and cold.  Even Kouga’s own wolves, formerly joining the West in the massive attack, are slower keeping up than normal.  The smell of them, however, is a soothing balm to the adrenaline and rage coursing through the Kouga’s body—reminding him that he actually might need brains rather than just the element of surprise.  With the rest of the forces with him, strategy would be the key.

 

The scents are closer, though, and far off light breaks the darkness of trees.  As long as some huge baddy doesn’t pop up to attack the West, then they are either going to avenge Shippo or pull him out alive. Either way, Kouga isn’t going to let the kid stay.

 

A random branch fwaks him in the face. Not a good omen.

 

Not far behind the Wolf Prince, Yao Xin moves with silent, graceful speed. At his order, a group of demons are hauling his powerful children through the woods in case there is a plot afoot to divide their forces. However, Xin is quite certain the kodomoto’s magic will keep their threat to a low priority. He is not taking chances, and so the twins are hauled along for the ride.

 

Before taking off behind the Prince of the Northern Wolf Tribe, Xin left Matsu with the human troops and fliers. Urgent missives have already been sent out the four kingdoms in warning. Apparently his people have become craftier in the centuries since their last attack—using strategy to worm their way around the main body of forces to attack the sparsely guarded palaces is an intelligent move and explains why so few of the combatants were elementals in the water/land siege.  If his people saved their greatest assets for a sneak attack, the demons in all four nations may be at a disadvantage.  Neither he nor Sesshomaru knew how many demon soldiers are left in the North, South, and East that would be able to stand against elementals. He can only assume the worst case scenario.

 

From ahead, the Kouga gives a loud shout with a high leap.  He comes down with a vengeance and the sounds of yelling, scrabbling, and fighting soon take over.

 

As the Western troops arrive with renewed vigor for bloodshed...they are understandably dumbstruck with confusion.

 

The ragtag group of Japanese demons and humans are scrambling to flee from the soldiers’ swords and arrows. Xin pauses only a moment with sword lifted for a killing blow.

 

“The barrier failed!” A skunk of all things yells from up in one of the trees and Yao Xin has had enough foolishness. If these are just petty demon thieves skulking around in the woods, then the other invaders are still out here somewhere.  With a deep draw of breath, Yao Xin blows out and ice spews forth. The scrambling becomes struggling as many are frozen to the spot and others caught by guards in the attempt to flee.

 

Yao approaches a half frozen badger, eyes flat with anger.

 

“Who are you?” He demands immediately.

 

The badgers jaw is clicking together at the extreme cold, his body frozen to mid-chest, “N-N-Nao o-of th-th-the B-B-B-B Burrrr-akk-k-umin.”

 

The Burakumin gang? There is no time for this!

 

“Twelve of you stay and round up these murderers and thieves. As for the rest of you, we will continue on!”

 

 

II

Before his body reforms, cells re-condensing into a whole butt load of hanyou, he has the rusty sword in hand. The second his body is, well, his body again, Tetsuaiga explodes in its’ transformation.  One second the sword is a beat-up piece of shit, next moment, ta-daa, awesome fang of ass-kicking. Watching the reaction of the transformation from whatever dumbass thinks a hanyou can’t hold his own is always entertaining.  Just that moment of ‘what the fuck is up with that steel?’ just before he strikes a sweet pose is enough to make all the jeers of his half-blood not even matter.

 

Only one thing really kills that moment of enjoyment, however, and that’s when one he calls his own is in trouble.  Nothing, nothing pisses him off more than that—not even cracks on his mother.  That’s why he’s on his game the second they reform—cause someone fucked royally fucked up, and it’s gonna be pretty clear how badly. The hanyou’s lips curve in a parody of a smile that is actually quite frightening—especially considering he’s highly pissed that Shippo somehow got mixed up in all this crazy fighting. Yup, that scary, calm anger might be worse because of the Heat, and it might just send him into another bout, but none of it really mattered. What mattered was his kit, alive and whole. And he would be. Shippo would be alive, there just wasn’t any other way.

 

Because if his kit was dead, then it was going to be a slaughter, and only Sesshomaru would have the strength to stop him from going bat-shit berserk on the whole goddammed island. InuYasha might lose his mind to rip apart any thing or person that would dare harm a hair on that kid’s head.

 

The sun is just now peeking over the horizon, spreading red and gold haze through the small clearing to where they’ve tracked Shippo’s scent. His ears swivel to gather as much sound as possible, a low growl already reverberating through the dense woods surrounding them.  Using his eyes and nose to get the full gist of how far they are from Shippo’s main scent, InuYasha doesn’t even notice his body is taking on the signs of battle rather than Heat.  His miraculously powerful hanyou form is no longer emanating the sweet pheromones of a ripe demon waiting for a mate. Rather, he smells like sharp adrenaline and tangy strength. His youkai isn’t even hitting a spike but is deceptively even.   Sesshomaru merely glares the darkness into recession, his eyes steadily on the half mile stretch of clearing they are almost upon.  It is there Sesshomaru can calculated somewhere near sixty soldiers. A great mass for just the two of them.  If more than a dozen are elementals, then the fight will indeed prove...interesting.

 

In some silent agreement, the two demons move silently through the snow to get closer to the clearing where the enemies slumber. Even in gaudy outfits, the two demons meld into the landscape, moving seamlessly silent through brambles and bare limbs.  Crouching behind a clump of thorn bushes, InuYasha uses Tetsuaiga to ease back some of the thin, lashing brushwood to get a better view of the ground. His golden eyes take in the scene with attention to all details: seven groups of ten or so in a circle, weapons close to hand, and smoldering fires long died out.  He didn’t sense an incredible amount of energy from this group of humans, but sheer numbers are enough to overcome anyone.

 

Movement at his side, and Sesshomaru’s eyes are narrowed dangerously—a mental flash makes the hanyou tense up for long moments, replaying the day a poison-laced hand was shoved through his gut.  That face is the old Sesshomaru he used to know so damn well...

 

“Run.”

 

Blink. Run? I’ll never run from you, asshole.

 

“You swore on your mother’s grave,” Sesshomaru hisses at him, “you would run.”

 

Oh, hell. Got lost there fer a seoncd. But, well, yeah I did promise, didn’t I. “My heat’s not spiking,” he hisses back,  ”and there’s a fuck-ton of them.”

 

Miracle of miracles, Sesshomaru’s face contorts in disbelief, one stripey hand flinging out the camp site. “Ridiculous! In my full form, I would have the majority beaten in one bite.”

 

“Well, y’ ain’t in yer full form, and SHIPPO is in there somewhere! We gotta be careful.”

 

“I would not hurt your innocent kitsune!”

 

“You’d drown him in drool, moron!”

 

“I would victoriously save him before that!”

 

“Seriously?! The kid is doomed. Now untwist your panties and let’s do this.”

 

“I do not luxuriate in women’s undergarments, fool! You should know this from previous experience!”

 

Not the time for embarrassment! But his cheeks redden anyway. “What the fuck ever! Are we gonna sit here and argue or go in there swinging?!”

 

“That depends,” Sesshomaru’s hand cups his brother’s chin and now they are eye to eye, a hair’s breath apart. “Will you stay at my back while we fight?” If not, Sesshomaru would de-tatch his tail and leave InuYasha bound up in it without qualm.

 

What the demon lord didn’t expect was the light that entered his sibling’s eyes, something...very gentle. Alien for InuYasha’s usual gruffness.  He wants me back-to-back with him like that time with Sou’ung...

 

His throat suddenly tight, the hanyou nods. “I’ll stand with ya.”

 

Not exactly what I meant, but he will do as I ask. With one sharp nod, Sesshomaru releases him. “Follow me, then. If that is your wish.”

 

The demon lord stands to his full height, face returning to that displeased, narrowed-eyed expression.  He swipes a hand faster than InuYasha can see and their path is suddenly just clear of bramble.  The noise and power strike wakes some of the sleeping invaders and the watchers call out in alarm as the Lord of the West simply strides into their camp with golden eyes glowing and youkai swirling around him.

 

He looks like his name’s sake, destruction made flesh. Any who had never seen him, but only heard the tales of his power and prowess, would cower at the press and magnitude of the youkai streaming from him like a second skin.  The lord, one of the few of their kind remaining, Sesshomaru of the West is death come a knocking.  Grudgingly impressed at the show, InuYasha stands slightly behind left shoulder (to be away from the sword arm) with his full fang over one shoulder and a snarl marring his features.

 

In Mongolian, Sesshomaru speaks in a dangerously calm tone. “This demon before you is Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western Lands. You will surrender your arms and offer your lives to this lord. Else, your blood will taint the ground with your shame.” His eyes bled red, jaw crackling with elongated fangs to put on a very frightening show.

 

His hand pulls Bakusaiga, youkai swirling around the blade—a flashy show that is normally beneath him; however, with InuYasha’s unstable state, he wants as less fighting as possible. “This Sesshomaru and his younger brother will gladly relieve you of your miserable existence. Forfeit your arms or your lives!”

 

Invaders leapt to their feet, looking back and forth to one another to weigh the words of this fearsome demon and the dog-eared warrior beside him.

 

The generals, three in charge of the undercover operation, are not swayed by his warnings. The first general, young and foolish, raises his axe in hand and calls out,

 

“There are two against the many of us! Killing them will bring the West to its’ knees! We can avenge our ancestors in this battle! Attack!”

 

Sesshomaru’s eyes narrow, and his free hand comes up with one green, glowing, fingernail.

 

“InuYasha, down!”

 

Ears twitching, the hanyou automatically does as he told, and the poison lash extends with a flick of the wrist. Gracefully, Sesshomaru rises up on one toe and begins to spin in a circle of death.  InuYasha watches with rapt attention as the first line of Mongolian ass-heads run right into that blur of poisony-goodness.

 

Heh, that shit hurts like a bitch, don’t it?

 

Long moments later, body parts are strewn about like leaves and the once pristine snow is red and squishy with gore. To his credit, the demon lord doesn’t have a single spot on his white robes. He ends his spin almost daintily, coming to face the remaining horde with the same expression as the Grim Reaper coming to call.

 

“Very well. Your lives it shall be.”

 

InuYasha leaps to his feet still holding Tetsuaiga and snarls. Sesshomaru turns slightly and the two brothers are back to back at more invaders coming to the charge.

 

Unbeknownst to the Princes of the West, there is only one elemental in this group of spies, and he is their healer, not a soldier.  The elder man has been sitting with the young boy they captured last night spying on them in the stance of a tree.  His heart went out to the child as he was beaten ruthlessly while tied so he could not defend himself against the blows. This was not honorable in the healer’s opinion and so he tried as best he could to tend to the young one’s grievous injuries. He was forced to expand much of his energy to start mending the broken bones, yet he was not able to heal the child completely. The fractures in his cheek, ribs, and shoulders would still need to be set, but he could keep the young child out of pain should his comrades decide to beat him more. The healer, past his prime for battle, could only give the child a weary sigh in apology for the brutality of his people.  It may be wrong, but the majority knew no other way. A ruthless khan would breed a ruthless army.

 

Now, as the two demons step into their camp with murderous gazes and frightening power, the elder healer makes the attempt at shielding his young charge with his own body.  With horror, he watches the first charge explode in body parts and viscera without the demon lord giving so much as a downward strike. So many dead with such little effort—truly are these Japanese formidable beings.

 

Never should our people have come to this forsaken shore. We come to our deaths...

 

The two demons face off with the second wave and cleave through the bodies like a sickle cleaves through a field of newly grown hay. They brothers are immensely powerful foes, indeed.

 

The secondary general, however, is already in panic as bodies pile up at the feet of the enemy.  Thirty men, forty men, all fall without ever striking a blow.  In a last moment decision to save his own life, he remembers the runty little child and moves across the camp to throw their healer’s body off the captive.  He hauls the blood-soaked body upright by the hair, waking him from unconsciousness with an agonized, muffled but open-mouthed cry.  

 

“Enough!” He yells over the dead throes and metal-on-bone screeches.

 

The remaining soldiers part to give InuYasha and Sesshomaru a very good look at the sharp, curved blade lying snugly against Shippo’s jugular.

 

“If we die, so does this one!”

 

InuYasha’s eyes widen at the kitsune’s beaten-to-shit face and the smell assaults him like a dragon’s fist—his sight blurs with a surge of rage. In an incredible pause in the fighting,  the invaders turn back to the brothers, ready to renew the attack—but, the hanyou is no longer simply a little pissed off; he is radiating scalding hot anger in waves, clenching the Tetsaiga in one hand hard enough to make his knuckles turns white and his claws puncture the soft meat of his palms around the hilt. From gold to red, his eyes do not move from the form of Shippo kneeling in front of a slimey, cowardly, stinkier-than-a-dog’s nut, son of a bitch that is about to get a beatdown of his fuckin’ life.

 

The hair on the back of many necks stands up straight in an instinctual flight reflex. Now would be the time to save themselves and run...however, stupidity seems to run rampant on their side.

 

A group ignores the signs of death and rushes the hanyou, specifically. Sesshomaru attempts to turn into the attack, attempts to push InuYasha back with his shoulder, attempts to be the big brother.

 

But, the clawed hand shoves him to the side instead, and a hard pulse of youkai resounds; a different pulse than the demon blood rising to the surface, this pulse is like a high-frequency pitch only dogs might hear, one that signals danger.  With Tetsuaiga lowered by his side, InuYasha isn’t even raising his arms in a strike. He knows instinctually that he doesn’t need to.

 

Like a shockwave of power, a concentrated gold light is his youkai expanding and contracting rapidly enough to burst from his chest like a burning fist. He doesn’t need to direct the blast or to use his hands or sword to release it. He only needs will to release the mass of his power into a concentrated blow.  That power, purely his own and not a hand-me-down from the long-dead General, cuts into each warrior in his path, burning whatever parts are in the way of the condensed power. Burning flesh and viscera, putrid scents, swirl in the breeze as half-burned bodies fall to the snow, some still with shocky expressions on what remains of a face.

 

Not even giving Sesshomaru a moment to gape, InuYasha’s legs bunch, and he leaps over the destruction his own power wrought and lifts the sword high in one hand.  With his downward momentum, the fang is shoved into the mouth of the motherfucker holding Shippo and rips through human meat in a vicious stab down the throat and clear through his belly. The invader doesn’t even have enough time to be afraid to die—the curved blade in his hands gives barely a twitch when his muscles spasm in final jerks. Effortlessly, InuYasha merely jerks his wrist to the left and cuts the body open to get his sword un-stuck—spewing intestines like rancid fruit.  Only his head swivels around to look at the last survivors with glowing red eyes.  His jaw opens to wicked fangs and a rolling growl of warning.

 

Intelligently, the final ten or so, in a singular, un-choreographed movement, drop their weapons to the blood encrusted snow and fall to their knees with hands over their heads.

 

III

Out of his one good eye, Shippo looks up at a familiar and frightening sight. He knows the signs and smells of demon blood rising to the fore. But, even with the beads still around the hanyou’s neck, there is not Kagome to rein him in when berserker mode kicks in, and a lick of fear skitters up his spine. Dying this way is not how he wants his short life to end...

 

“i—ippo..” The crazed demon snarls out, and the good jade green eye widens.

 

“Inuuyapha?” Muffled by the gag still, tears start to cut a path down the blood and grime still on his face, making the puffy red, black, and blue bruises glitter. His jaw isn’t working well enough for him to attempt to say more.

 

The hanyou drops to a crouch, elongated claws coming dangerously close to Shippo’s face. He keeps himself from flinching (in case he cuts himself on the claws like an idiot) but can’t help his whole body trembling in strain, stress, and fear.  The gag in his mouth is suddenly gone, and his mouth is so dry he coughs weakly.  The one hand not holding Tetsuaiga moves around the kitsune to pull him against the rough fabric of the fire rat robe and the beating rhythm of InuYasha’s heart underneath.  Even though it hurts his battered face and chest to be held so tightly against the hanyou, Shippo doesn’t even make a squeak in protest or utter some inane crap about being a pansy. The smell might be frightening, but it’s still InuYasha, and the kitsune huddles deeper against the warmth and safety he used to feel any time InuYasha was around.

 

“Sh-i-pp-o,” speaking around huge fangs makes the words harder to get out, but the demon InuYasha knows the kit will be further at ease by knowing he is recognized.

 

“Yasha.” Sniffling at the sudden bout filling his eyes, Shippo tries to keep the wave back. “I missed ya, big lug.”

 

Just like that, the hanyou lowers his face into the kit’s red hair and snuffles to assess the injuries as well as relay comfort. He uses a claw on his other hand to cut the bindings on the kit’s wrists, lying his cheek on the crown of Shippo’s head.

 

“Sa-afe now.”  The intense anger recedes, and the growling turns into the normally rough tone, “it’s okay, kid. I gotcha.”

 

His shoulders start shaking and the wave bursts in silent sobs, “InuYasha...InuYasha...” Numb hands clench fists full of fire rat and Shippo burrows deeper into the scent of safety.

 

Plopping back on his ass, InuYasha pulls the kit with him, arranging Shippo to sit in the niche of his lap so he could keep his face buried in the robes over the hanyou’s chest.  His long sleeve covers the kit’s cold upper body with the arm around thin shoulders.  His other hand goes to finish off the bindings on Shippo’s swollen knees and ankles, not focusing on the tingling starting in his hands and arms.

 

Once freeing his not-so-little munchkin, InuYasha winds the other arm around the kitsune to layer both sleeves over him.  Sure, he wanted to know how the hell Shippo ended up out here in the middle of fuckin’ no where instead of at the Kitsune school or with Miroku and Sango keeping their passel of brats rounded up, but answers will have to wait until the shivering stops and one of the healers can see to him. Somewhat awkwardly, he wracks his brain trying to think about what he can do to comfort the little kid. Five years ago, it would have been so much easier since he learned an iota of compassion from Kagome and her constant sympathy for anything suffering (sheesh, she once made him pick up a baby bird with a broken wing and carry it with them until the damn thing healed. Talk about lame..well, maybe he felt a little good when it finally flew off but whatever).

 

Then, he feels the moisture, scents the salt in the air from the little kitsune in his lap.  Time rewinds and the kid is smaller, tiny even. Almost smaller than InuYasha himself when his mother died. Some distant instinct kicks in at the smell of tears. His hands seems to unfreeze and hold the young one’s slight form tighter.  For the moment, InuYasha rubs soothing circles on Shippo’s back to generate warmth and comfort at the same time.

 

Sesshomaru, on the other hand, faces the invaders that have thrown down their arms in surrender. He generously allows his sibling time to calm down the traumatized child while giving the enemies his best, most effective look of disdain.

 

“You will tell this Sesshomaru how many more of your warriors have come to these shores,” one green fingernail glows intensely. “You will not lie, or it may be a prudent punishment to feed you to this lord’s younger brother.  He quite enjoys the taste of human flesh from time to time.  He also claims human bones are better for keeping his fangs painfully sharp.”

 

Terrified eyes return to the hanyou’s straight back.  Stuttering over themselves, three men begin talking at once with exaggerated enthusiasm spurned by the motivation not to die. The end result is a garbled string of words the demon lord cannot unwind, and his eyes narrow in displeasure. Immediately, all three shut their traps with an abrupt snap. The first hurried tells of the two other ships making way around the island to catch the South and East kingdoms by surprise while another land-bound battalion is making it’s way to the Western palace.

 

With a sneer, the demon lord inquires, “and is your khan so foolish as to actually believe so few would have the strength to attempt such as assault?”

 

“Our spies saw all the soldiers sent out from the other three kingdoms! They have no defense!” One soldier snarkily snaps back.

 

In a blink, his head is rolling around in the snow and his body slumps bonelessly to the cold earth.

 

“Hn. Ridiculous. Each kingdom maintained several hundred soldiers inside their castle walls. Your pathetic numbers would not have had a chance of victory.”

 

“T-The ships have elementals, all of them.” The man beside the be-headed corpse make certain to keep his tone respectful. “Over thirty. They planned to break the land around the Eastern palace and send it into the sea!”

 

One brow arches in understanding. Hn. If the khan assumed their forces would win the day, then the plan is a sound one. If the Western army failed, more humans than demons would be left to defend the kingdoms of Nippon.  Grudgingly,  Sesshomaru can see the validity of the plot; however, to achieve such a plan of action meant the khan is far too arrogant of his own power...

 

Perhaps, after InuYasha’s Heat is over and the threat to Nippon diminished, this Sesshomaru will sink to the level of his enemies and make a short trip over the sea... His quick mind mulls over multiple possibilities and plans of action to assure the safety of his people and country. Unbeknownst to him, his expression is murderous while he is considering the best course, staring down the prisoners with a frightening intensity without realizing he is doing so.

 

Voices shout.

 

Both he and InuYasha turn in a synchronized movement, ears twitching to gather sound.  With barely a sniff, the wind brings in the scent of Yao Xin and several soldiers of the Western army. Also, the musk of wolf paints his senses. Judging by the crashes through the brush, they are still half a mile away.

 

“InuYasha.”

 

But, the hanyou is already standing with the kit held against him in one arm while the other holds his sword. “Go on and get ‘em. I’ll wait here with these asswipes. They make a move and I’m gonna Wind Scar ‘em straight to Hell.”

 

Sesshomaru gives him a knowing glance at the soft, sweet smell starting to get stronger by increments, and actually hesitates before asking, “you...are certain?”

 

In response, the hanyou grins cheekily, “awww. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you might miss me er something. Ain’t that just cute.”

 

Bristling, Sesshomaru resists the urge to speed next to the foolish hanyou and smack him in the back of the head for even uttering such sentiments. “Hn. Very well, vile hanyou. This Sesshomaru will retaliate another day for your blatant stupidity.”

 

Shippo, face buried in InuYasha’s chest, tenses at the verbal sparring. He’s wondering if he should leap away from the hanyou before Sesshomaru, true to his word, retaliates by slicing a huge chunk out of them both. He has no idea why the two of them were in the wood together in the first place when the army should have been by the shoreline? There’s a bunch he’s missing apparently.

 

“Keh.” Bringing the sword up with a fangy grin, the hanyou can’t help but enjoy one upping the asshole...it’s, well, pretty fun actually. “Bring it on, big brother. I ain’t afraid.” At that, Shippo’s body tenses in his arms, tail straightening in alarm.

 

A second later, the demon lord merely vanishes in an impressive show of power.

 

“Well, that was kinda cool, I guess,” grudgingly, the hanyou has to give credit where credit is due and moves to stand facing the assholes on their knees, giving the evil eye and a good, scary growl in case any of them get any ideas.

 

“All right, kid. Sesshomaru is gone to get help. So’s you gotta tell me what yer doing here and how these fuckwads got you. ‘Cause if any of them had something to do with yer face, they ain’t gonna be prisoners, you feel me?”

 

Shippo lifts his face from the hanyou’s chest and looks at him, really looks at his for a few moments. This feeling of being held is one he actually missed while away. Years ago, if he was cold in the night, InuYasha would wait until everyone else was asleep before pulling him up in a tree to sleep surrounded by fire rat and warmth.  When he was so tired from travelling, it was InuYasha that would pick him up by the scruff and carry him.  When memories of his father’s death would assault his dreams, it was InuYasha that would hold him and awkwardly pat his head and back until he could fall asleep again.  As part of the hanyou’s pack, Shippo never knew fear, real fear, until after InuYasha left the village...and didn’t come back.  Again, the kit was all alone and decided himself that it was time to stop depending on others to keep him safe. He would have to learn to protect himself—the Kitsune Training School was the place for it.

 

Being saved, however, makes him feel relieved, beholden, and shitty about his own lack of survival skills, all in one confusing bundle of emotions now that he doesn’t fear death.

 

“...I asked Kouga—to bring me along. I wanted to fight for the West. S-spotted these guys while we were on our way.”

 

InuYasha glances down then back at the group of cowering jerks, “Kouga, huh? I didn’t see flea bag at the battle.”

 

“We were on our way...he went to find a general to tell them where these foreigners were... I stayed behind to keep an eye on them.”

 

“Did they sniff you out?”

 

The jerks in the line start whispering to one another but shut up immediately when he steps up and brandishes the fang with a menacing swipe.

 

“No.” Cough, cough, “they almost cut me down for firewood, so I had to change back.”

 

“Come again?” The hanyou asks flatly.

 

“Heh,” the dangerous look on his face makes the kit just shrug with a pained wince. “I transformed into a tree to watch ‘em.”

 

“So that school did ya some good after all?”

 

“Yeah, I’m much stronger now, InuYasha...but, I mean, thanks...for coming to get me.” He slumps more against InuYasha, a breath puffing out through his lips. “Like old times, huh?”

 

Looking over the tuffs of red hair, the hanyou’s golden eyes noticeably soften. “Keh. Like it’s some big deal or something, Shippo. Geeze. I’d never leave any of my pack behind. Not even that fucking pervert.”

 

The rustling from behind them doesn’t even make the hanyou twitch. He merely glances at the last guy over his shoulder, the scent that is lightly on Shippo’s injuries and the bandage under his shirt.  With the blade of Tetsuaiga, he motions to the line of other assholes, not bothering to speak since the guy probably didn’t understand Japanese anyhow.

 

With hands above his shoulders, the healer calmly walks to the end of the line and kneels down. 

 

Shippo sighs again, “I was ssstupid, that’s how they caught me. If I would have hid, or something, they never would have found me. I would’ve killed ‘em with one of my new attacks...but, I didn’t do it right.”

 

“Oh yea? New attacks? Hn. Well, yer goin’ back to the Western Palace with the army and letting the healer guy there take care of you for a while. When I get back, you can show me all the nifty shit you learned.”

 

Shippo’s head moves, “the Western Palace?”

 

“Uh, well, yeah.  Sesshomaru wants me to come home for a while, and I agreed.”

 

“...InuYasha, are you feeling okay? I mean seriously okay? Did you get hit in the head or something?”

 

“Shuddup, kid, geeze. Naw, I’ve just—“ most closely guarded secret of the royalty­—“I’m not the fuck-up in the family anymore. I agreed to help his army against these jerks from across the sea...so, I guess he finally realized I’m the only family he’s got...er something like that.” InuYasha shrugs this time, “he hasn’t tried to kill me in a while, so maybe someone knocked that stick out of his ass—“

 

With a little choke, the kit laughs gently. “T-that really good, dog breath. You need family. Everyone needs family.” With that, the kitsune finally passes out now that he knows he will be protected.

 

IV

The Western soldiers leap into the clearing as if they expect a full-scale attack in progress or some inane shit like that—sheesh, didn’t they know how to use their ears?  The hanyou stares with one ear crooked up in question, still holding his unconscious kit in a protective hold.  Sheepishly, the soldiers bow to him before gathering around the kneeling Mongolians.  Catching a smell on the wind, InuYasha rolls his eyes.

 

Seconds later, Kouga vaults over the big patch of brush and comes skittering to a shaky halt beside the soldiers. His eyes are wide at the information his senses are gathering: Shippo’s blood, bruises, and broken bones; dog breath’s sweet tinge of dog demon’s Heat; the scent of the sea and foreign blood; the shit storm of ass-kicking that must have happened in this clearing. A whole bunch of shit he missed while trekking through the woods in search of the kit.

 

The big general, Shin or something, strides right past the wolf prince.

 

“Lord InuYasha!”

 

His sword hand comes up and two fingers wave from the hilt, “yo! Good timing. We got some plottin’ assholes that need to be taken care of, and I need a healer for my kit in a bad way. He’s going back to the Western Palace.”

 

Xin bows at the waist, “of course, sire.”

 

“Thanks, Xin, and uh, you can also throw out that nasty smellin’ pelt, maybe even burn it. Shit stinks to hell—“ he cranes his neck around Xin’s broad form, “oh damn, nevermind, then. It’s just Kouga. Well, fuck, I guess he can stay.” Through this glibness, the hanyou is grinning like a madman.  He hasn’t seen the mangy bastard in years—good to see him still alive.

 

The mention must have shaken the wolf’s tail, and he bristles immediately. “Hey flea bag! Long time, no see. Y’ know, I been running and shit, but at least I don’t got lice like some puppies I could mention—“

 

“Oi! You wanna talk about lice, wolfy—“ Yao instinctively steps in between the two, nostalgia of his own warring offspring hits him like a fist.

 

“Oh, any day you stinkin’ mongrel—“

 

Before he gets the full sentence out, a white blur moves with incredible speed that the wolf’s senses reel. He doesn’t even realize he is being attacked until a wicked blade is right on his jugular and white blinds his vision.

 

“I suggest, Prince Kouga, that you do not slander the Prince of the West in his own lands,” Sesshomaru’s smooth voice echoes in a very obvious warning.  He presses minutely against the hilt of Bakusaiga, small enough to draw just a little blood to send his point home. “This lord will not overlook such disrespect to his little brother.”

 

“Long time no see, Lord Sesshomaru. You forget who lent you a shit ton of wolves, or what?”

 

“Your father, not you, little Prince. Yet, as I recall, the Northern Lord has seven sons. I am certain he could stand to lose one.”

 

Kouga’s eyes widen at the completely serious look on the demon lord’s face. He actually swallows.

 

“Oi, Sesshomaru! I can fight my own battles, geeze.” InuYasha steps around Xin to the stand-off and pushes Sesshomaru’s blade away with his own, still cradling the injured kitsune in one arm. “Besides,” he gestures to the wolf, “I mean, it’s Kouga fer cryin’ out loud.”

 

“The person does not matter,” Sesshomaru counters cooly, “any that dare slander this Sesshomaru’s sibling will taste the Lord of the West’s wrath in a most excruciating way.”

 

“Well, Kouga’s the exception, then. I give him shit, he gives me shit, and we don’t kick the ever-lovin’ crap outta each other. Fair deal. Now, we got more important issues to worry about than getting’ in a pissing contest over nothing. There are more guys out there gunning for our land and my kit needs a healer, like yesterday.  So howzabout you make with being the lord and get some shit done. Make it snappy!”

 

Kouga’s eyes widen in horror, huge in his face with pupils fully dilated, “Holy shit, mutt. Do you have a death wish?” he hisses, leaning an inth to the side.

 

“Keh. I’ll care when Shippo isn’t beat to shit and crazy motherfuckers aren’t stinking up my forest.”

 

It’s then that Kouga looks and sniffs at the same time. His expression grows grim. “Shippo.”

 

The kitsune doesn’t reply, nor does he lift his face from InuYasha’s chest.

 

The demon lord’s expression tightens ever so slightly, “you may have a point, InuYasha, but this Sesshomaru is your elder brother and lord. You will not speak as such.”

 

One black eyebrow hikes up a notch, and a sneer mars his face. “Look, you. Just because we’re not fighting right now doesn’t mean I don’t remember being an exile beat to shit by my own kin. You get your priorities straight, and I’ll remember who the fuck I’m talking to. My memory is pretty damned good, Lord Sesshomaru.”

 

With that barb, the hanyou turns away, kit in arm, to find a healer in this mess of soldiers.

 

Sesshomaru, powerful demon, blinks at InuYasha’s retreating back, uncertain as to what the devil just happened.

 

V

 

Man, I wish that damn fox was here instead of back at the West, helpless to do anything but watch, InuYasha mentally cringes when the centaur re-breaks Shippo’s shoulder.  The lean little body arches hard off the cot, but to his credit, Shippo doesn’t scream. A strangled bark of a cry escapes, but he takes the pain like a man and just breathes.  He knew, when the centaur’s face turned grim, that his broken bones hadn’t healed properly and would have to be broken again. His shoulder hadn’t set right while InuYasha carried him through the throng of soldiers and demanded a good healer had best get a move on. InuYasha would never change and that thought soothed the pained kitsune.

 

From over the hanyou’s shoulder, Kouga lounges by the flap in the healer’s tent. His tail decidedly drooping, he visibly cringed when the kitsune’s ribs and arm were re-broken.  He felt lower than a snake for allowing the kit to convince him one of them should stay behind. Hell, Kouga himself was three hundred years old, and he knew, he knew better than to leave a child in so much danger, no matter how much the kit had improved over the last few years.  No kitsune under a hundred could hold a shapeshift with adrenaline and fear in his blood.

 

The hanyou, however, didn’t even flinch and hadn’t left Shippo’s side. With one glance over his shoulder, InuYasha’s expression makes Kouga feel even guiltier—not in that, I blame your dumb ass for this shit but in that, I’m disappointed you didn’t take care of him kind of way. It makes the tinges of his conscience wilt.  The mutt is one of those warriors that doesn’t focus on the how shit happened or who caused it, but he just takes one step after another to try and fix whatever wrongs he can.  At least, that’s how Kouga interprets his actions for the last five years; the mutt wandered through the lands like a ghost, doing all he could to protect the innocent ones from being hurt and killed or taken advantage of by the strong.  Maybe, like he, InuYasha missed Kagome so much, he saw her in every human that needed his help, but maybe, the dog was just...well, an honorable warrior—more so than Kouga ever realized.  But then again, the half-demon standing before him today is not the same one he’d seen in the last battle against Naraku five years ago.  That expression, well, that’s not the look of InuYasha from the Shikon Jewel days...this is a completely different animal all together.  Much as it pained the wolf prince, he’s sure this is the outcast InuYasha must have been before the Shikon Jewel ever showed up.

 

With a sigh, Kouga steps up beside the dog and crosses his arms over his chest while they both watch the centaur apply healing herbs and poultices to the swelling bruises littering the kit’s face and chest.

 

Without prompting from the hanyou, Kouga tells him how they came to be in the woods. The story of meeting up with his father’s troops, passing the Slayer’s flourishing village, and grudgingly agreeing to let the kit come as long as he held up his own.  However, he pointedly leaves out the death threats Sango and Miroku.

 

“I told him to stay back from their site and just watch,” the wolf finishes, “but I shouldn’t have left him out there alone.”

 

Shoulders tense as the wolf waits for a berating on his intelligence, but after long moments, the hanyou simply shrugs and casts a glance over.

 

“Shippo was with us for the Naraku days, Kouga. For a kid, he’s always held his own when he can.”

 

In those few words, the guilt in Kouga’s chest eases a bit and he stares at the mutt’s tall profile, wondering just when the late Inu no Taisho started coming out of that flea bag’s mouth.

 

Wrapping the kit’s wounds didn’t take long and the centaur gathers his supplies.  Facing his other lord, the half-horse, half-man bows in respect.  “I have done what I can for now, sire.  His wounds will heal correctly before dawn.  I will check back in a few hours to see how the bones are healing, so he should not move until I return.”

 

“I got it. Thanks for seeing to him.”

 

“Of course, sire,” with a nod, the centaur leaves the tent, tail swishing behind him.

 

InuYasha just steps up to the kit while Kouga notes the respect with a raised brow.  The wolf, while impetuous, is not a fool. His eyes narrow at the hanyou (whom had raised a hand pat the kit’s firey red hair), and his nose doesn’t lie.  Not only is the mutt in his latent stages of Heat, but his very essence is...off somehow.  The wolf isn’t sure how InuYasha managed to change his scent in the last five years (or how the hell he’s managing to keep his Heat from overwhelming him), but he suddenly has a buttload of questions now that he and the dog are on equal social ground. 

 

“InuYasha...”

 

The hanyou leans over,“...yer scent lead me to them, Shippo. It’s thanks to you we found ‘em....Ya done good, kid. Real good.”

 

The half-aware kitsune drags in a breath, his voice suddenly thick, “I—I—I d-didn’t tell them nothin’.”

 

Once again, the hanyou gently pats the kit, leaning closer to surround Shippo with his scent. “Naw. Never thought ya would. You got guts, Shippo, always did have.”

 

From his swollen eye lids, tears ran gently down the youthful, battered face, “I wanted—to see you again.” A choking hiccup makes the hanyou’s ears flatten to his head, “I missed you so much, InuYasha.”

 

And so, perhaps because he had often thought of the little kitsune as well in all those long, agonizing years alone or perhaps because the kit is obviously distressed,  the half-breed lays his forehead very gently against the kit’s.

 

“...I’ll never admit it, so you only get this once, but I missed you too, runt.”

 

With that, the little kitsune starts the waterworks. Not loud, gasping sobs, but a quiet, raw weep that makes the hanyou want to move him, want to put the kid on his lap and shush him like he used to do in the top of Goshinboku when Shippo was still just a kid and scared from the nightmares of his parents’ death. When those hands, not so little anymore, grab on to his sleeve, InuYasha just winds an arm under Shippo’s neck and holds him closer to the scent of the hanyou’s strength.

 

Kouga, respectfully remains quiet while the kid cries out his pain and lonliness.

 

Sniffling, the kit finally stutters, “I-I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again. I was a jerk when I was with you and Kagome.”

 

Surprised at this, InuYasha feels a little shitty at staying away for so long. “Keh! What a dumbass.” He eases Shippo back to the cot and wipes away the residue of tears with his sleeve.

 

“It ain’t like that, Shippo. With or without Kagome, once yer part of the pack, yer always part of the pack!” Looking into the one green eyes, he gives a shrug, “but, you started a life. I didn’t wanna fuck it up for you, y’ know?  I mean, damn, I can feel your youkai is crazy strong now, so I let you be. Figured you’d come wandering in the forest somewhere when you needed me.”

 

Absurdly, the kitsune chokes on a laugh, “are you kidding me, InuYasha?  Do you know how much forest is out there?!”

 

The hanyou sniggers, “a fuck ton, yeah I know. But Sango and Miroku know whereabout I am most of the time, so don’t worry about it.  You need me that bad, and they’ll let me know. So’s that’s enough of all this girly crap, okay?  We’re good. Fer the time being, you need to relax and heal. My guys are okay and they’ll keep an eye on ya. They’re gonna take you back to the West, and after I hunt out the others, I’ll see you there.”

 

The one green eye widens, “the West?”

“Yeah. Sesshomaru’s place. He’s okay with it, don’t worry.”

 

“...Sesshomaru?!”

 

One side of the hanyou’s mouth quirks, “yeah. Long story. Me n that icy princess are kinda okay, so nothin’ll happen to you there. ‘Sides, his people know I’ll rip apart the bastard that so much as stings yer baby toe.”

 

The kitsune giggles again as the hanyou turns and gives a wave over his shoulder on the way out.

 

The mid-morning is clear and cold outside the tent, and the Western soldiers are camping close to the healing tent, getting what shut eye they can.  Two guards are standing outside the tent to guard Shippo while the army rests and gets ready to move once again.  With the new threat to the lands of Nippon, all the soldiers—demon and human alike—are on high alert and sleep does not come easy.  However, to be in top fighting condition, they have to set up their own tents and rest before the next round of fighting surely meets them on the road to home.

 

Watching the play of the campground, InuYasha nods to the guards and waits for Kouga.  His breath visible, he just stands outside the entrance with his hands in his sleeves and buried in the snow to the tops of his ankles.  Ears twitching like mad, he spares a glance at the same gorilla-faced riders thawing the wings of their mounts with warm blankets.  The one female that saved his ass gives a small bow and goes back to tending her flying beastie. The dragon lifts its’ head and nuzzles her in return.  InuYasha smiles gently.

 

Finally, after long moments of soft words between kit and wolf, Kouga steps out behind InuYasha with hands on his hips and shaking his head with a sigh.

 

“Kit’ll be fine. Don’t go all namby-pamby on me, flea bag.”

 

The wolf gives a half smile, “I’d call you Inu-koro, but I don’t want your brother showing up with that killer sword again.  I don’t need another hole to breathe out of.”

 

“Keh! That bastard does know how to back the fuck down. Guess it’s somethin’ we got in common,” but, just talking about Sesshomaru makes the hanyou’s mouth sour. The insult pissed him off, true, but his brother also saved him a few times and seemed legit in his sentiments...

 

The wolf visibly flinches and looks around furtively, “just ‘cause he might not want yer sword anymore doesn’t mean he holds a candle for me or some shit.” Blue eyes dart to the side, “...speaking of which...are you Lord InuYasha now or didja just come for the fighting and the food? Last I heard, you were wanderin’ all over the place killing anyone pissy enough to make ya.  I mean, didja really take out that gang of shark pirates?”

 

The memory makes the hanyou’s expression turn feral, “rat fuckers. Gave ‘em an adamant enema. They were just goin’ along the coast hitting villages.  Killin’ kids n shit.”

 

“Yeah. I mean, I heard the stories, but didn’t know for sure what happened t’ ya after Kagome—well, you know. I kept stopping by yer village and forest, but you were always long gone.”

 

Say what? The hanyou turns to Kouga with a raised brow.

 

The wolf, in turn, read the ‘why’ in the mutt’s mug and blusters out, “the old priestess died and the other left ya. I mean, damn man, we teamed up to kill Naraku; we lost Kagome together—all o’ us. You shoulda come North and hung out with me n the pack.” Awkwardly, he folds his arms across his chest plate.

 

Even with the prime opportunity to needle the stinky wolf a bit is soooo right here, InuYasha ignores several retorts and taunts (especially with the Western army around) and lets himself feel better that the mangy hide would even say something like that. Hell no, they weren’t friend or allies, but they were never really enemies or rivals either.  Yet, the hanyou had never really considered having a place in the wolf pack, never even stopped by since he had a pretty good idea what kind of hell he would encounter with a pack of full-blooded wolves—most that probably had a hate-on for hanyous.  With that knowledge, he turns the weight of his stare to the wolf.

 

And Kouga feels a sudden, haunting chill run up his spine at the look directed at him. It’s not the look of the old, brash and overly brave InuYasha. The one that jumped into the fight with people at his back and the determination to save the world.  This mutt is actually a little scary with the age in his eyes—like he’s the oldest demon that’s ever walked the earth and has seen centuries of misery.  There’s a wary expectation of hate and prejudice, a mistrust of any kindness or compassion while still maintaining his own sense of what is right regardless of how others treated him.  It’s the kind of look that makes Kouga wish he’d taken more effort seeking the dog out in the last five years.

 

“...never really considered it, I guess.” The hanyou finally admits, “everyone just left and moved on. I thought it’d be lame as hell if I just stayed around the village of humans that poked me with sticks and shit while I was still bound to Goshinboku.” But that wasn’t it, and he knew better.  Staying still, like when he was trapped to that tree, ended the second that girl from the future grabbed the arrow in his chest.

 

“You coulda gone with the Monk and his woman, taken Shippo with you.”

 

Point, but, “Miroku and Sango didn’t need me hanging around to remind ‘em of Naraku and stuff.  Besides, my nose is sensitive, you dig? I don’t wanna fuckin know how good their baby-making time is goin. I mean, shit, we ain’t that close.”

 

The wolf chorts, guffawing in agreement, “I feel that. What about the kid. He—uh—well, he hasn’t been the same since everything ended. You know—“

 

“Yeah, I do,” the hanyou harshly interrupts. “He’s only thirty at most, and no fucking kid I’ve ever met has youkai in his aura. Shippo’s been bustin’ ass.”

 

“He moved up three ranks...in a year, mutt. No joke.”

 

“What the hell’s up with that?”

 

Kouga shrugs, “from what he told me...he thought he needed to know enough to protect himself—then he could always go back after the Monk and taijiya...you know, died.”

 

An ear twitches.

 

“Well, humans die, and they die fast compared to us. I think it hit Shippo hard when Kagome left, sure, but when the old priestess died, he had some kind of realization.  So, he started stayin’ with those two and their pups—waitin’ for you to come visit again.”

 

“Keh.” But the hanyou’s demeanor gives him away.

 

Going out on a limb here, Kouga lifts a hand to InuYasha’s shoulder. “Y’ did the best you could, man. Shippo has to figure life out for himself.”

 

“...He was supposed to stay with them, have a family and shit.  What the fuck could I give ‘em that they couldn’t?  Shit—no home, hard ground or a tree for a bed, always moving, and every cock-suckin’ demon in smelling range trying to kill him just because he travels with a half-breed? For shit’s sake, I didn’t even know if I was going to live out a few years. Couldn’t leave him alone again—not like his parents.”

 

Something in the wolf stills at this admission. ‘Has he been suicidal all this time? Fighting until he finds someone nasty enough to kill him off?! Without the others, well, I thought he’d be okay...

 

“Don’t get me wrong, asshole. I’m not going girly or anything like that—“

 

“Heh! W-who’re you kidding, mutt face? You gotta sword with like, what, seven attaks? And a list longer than my dick of dead fuckers in your wake! Shit, my dick’s longer than my arms, so that’s a fuck-ton of dead demons.”

 

Despite himself, InuYasha shakes his head with a guffaw, “you mean a baby’s arm, asshole.”

 

“Still a long list, dog shit.”

 

“Before the Jewel, every mother fucker wanted a piece of me.  All of ‘em, even my own blood, wanted nothing more than to see me dead. Didn’t matter when I was a snot-nosed runt. Just always seemed like I had no right to live. Looking for the Jewel, that gave me purpose. Taking care of Kagome and avenging Sango’s family and trying to get that Wind Tunnel out of Miroku’s hand—that made me better than I ever was before.  When it was all over... I didn’t wanna go back to that, especially not with Shippo—no kid should see that shit.” Even though I didn’t have a choice. “Shippo deserves better. I made the right call by him.”

 

“I suppose. Kinda karmic that here he is, though, ain’t it?”

 

“Maybe. But, I don’t believe in karma. If I did, Sesshomaru would be grade-A fucked.”

 

“Oh, damn. Yeah, I guess. But, really, mutt. You royalty now? He finally swallow his pride and accept you back into the family?”

 

“...Something like that.  He wants me to stay in the Western Palace and check it out, see how I’ll like it. I mean, damn, a futon instead of a tree would be sweet.”

 

“Uh-hu. Furs are pretty good, too, but, I mean, you’re not going until after you get—ahem—taken care of, right?”

 

An ear crooks up and the hanyou’s blank look makes the wolf draw back. “Seriously, mutt? I have a nose, you know. It’s right here on my face.”

 

Realization dawns and the ruddy color rises in InuYasha’s face, “Keh! So it’s not just to keep yer ugly face from lookin’ even uglier? Hn, but yeah, there’s still that, ain’t there?”

 

“Well, no shit!” He lowers his tone immediately, glancing around to see if anyone noticed their topic change. “Man, no fuckin’ around now. Heat’s a serious thing, you know.  It can kill your stubborn ass, crazy-powerful or not. I mean, damn, I don’t know how you’re suppressing it like this, but you gotta get it taken care of fast. Sooner the better.  Go find a bitch, fuck her for a few days, and tell her to piss off.”

 

“Are you a complete dumbass?  What bitch would fuck a hanyou? Uh, answer: none. But, it’s all right. I got it. This shit with Shippo came up while I was on my way out. Soon as the army is on its’ way and these invading fuck-wads are taken care of, I’m outta here.”

 

Kouga has nothing to say to that, but he noticed how the guards behind them kept their eyes on the hanyou rather than the kit’s tent.  Something told him that Sesshomaru was going to have a word or two to say about his brother just up and taking off.

 

“Well, I gotta go check on my men. Don’t run off til I get back.”

 

“What? Whadda ya think I am, some pup?”

 

Kouga gives him a raised brow, “maybe I just give a fuck whether or not yer okay, mutt. Kagome woulda wanted me to.”

 

At her name, the hanyou looks away. “Kagome ain’t here and she didn’t know about demon customs anyhow. You’re off the hook, flea bag.”

 

Kouga’s tail twitches, and he moves to be in the hanyou’s line of sight, startling the hanyou with his serious face.  “InuYasha.”

 

I don’t think the damn wolf has ever said my name before. 

 

“I’m not a run-of-the-mill demon, you get me?  I’m royalty, too, a younger prince, just like you are.  I’m not trying to find a mate or anything like that, but if it comes down to do or die...I’m here for ya.”

 

Is he saying what I think he’s saying? InuYasha’s brow hikes up into his hairline. But, Kouga doesn’t look away.

 

Not like that isn’t creepy or nothing. Me and the wolf? Naw...“Go check on your wolves. I’ll stay until the healer gets back.”

 

Visibly, Kouga hesitates,“Y’ sure mutt-face? I can stay, guard your back.”

 

“Nothin’ doing. We’re safe here. There’s guards everywhere.”

 

“All right, then. I’ll be back once I get a report on our numbers.”

 

“Later, flea bag.”

 

“Yo,” without even looking back, the wolf gives a wave over one shoulder and disappears through the milling soldiers and tents.

 

With Shippo taken care of and Sesshomaru busy, this is an opportune time to piss off. The hanyou waits until Kouga is gone and turns back around to the guys outside Shippo’s tent.

 

“You guys keep an eye on him, all right?  I’ll be back.” He starts walking when the soldier on the right speaks out.

 

“We cannot, milord!”

 

Twitch. “What?” Unconsciously, he growls, expecting some lame-ass, ‘cause-we-don’t-take-orders-from-hanyous shit.

 

“We are not on his detail, sire,” both immediately kneel, hasty at his tone. “His guards entered the tent once you left!”

 

“Uh, okay,” in a flat tone, “they what’re you two doin’ here insteada getting something to eat?”

 

“We are on your detail, sire.  We are to stay with you. Orders from Lord Sesshomaru himself.”

 

InuYasha sizes up the two, big ass demons. They were probably fast enough to keep up with him. Fuckin’ Sesshomaru.

 

His eyes narrow on the kneeling soldiers, “And where is my asshole brother right now?”

 

VI

The table of advisors made his stomach turn—their very scents were a testament to their weakness.  Keeping his face schooled from a disdainful snarl, the newly-returned prince is completely out of place with these sniveling fools.

 

When he blinks, all eyes are suddenly on him and he straightens in his chair with a seemingly bored expression.

 

“And what is your opinion on the solution, my son?”  The Inu no Taisho speaks from the head of the table, eyes only for his offspring at the other end.

 

After long moments of silence, the air tense with waiting, the younger inu finally speaks, “the humans of these lands are a cancer to progress. Their warring nature belays the disrespect they have for their betters,” bitter words cross from his tongue in an empty tone—but, his memory of abuse at the hands of humans has not yet left him.  “If these worms persist in obstructing their demon lords, then they should be dealt with swiftly.”

 

“Milord, humans are our servants and farmers. They produce commerce for the West as well as—“

 

“Demons have no need of human servants or their grains.” The young inu counters immediately, “others of our kind tend the fields and serve their betters as well as any human.  Demons live longer and work harder with their strength and endurance. Pray tell, of what use are humans other than to war with each other and cause destruction to our lands?”

 

The minister, cowed by the frigid aura of the powerful prince, is at a loss for words.

 

The Inu no Taisho, however, stands. All eyes move to him, clad in full armor, with a face as empty as his son’s.  “Humans may not have the strength or prowess we possess and their lives are short and fleeting; however, my son, humans are creatures of our lands and thus under our might to protect.  For they possess a power of which many demons will never be able to conceive... strength of will.”

 

Blinking, the prince’s expression changes into a sneer, “ridiculous!”

 

This one word made the entire table visibly flinch, and the general’s eyes narrow dangerously. Few fools dared to talk back to him; fewer survived such an insult—to question the wisdom and will of the Lord of the West. From halfway down the table, Yao Xin, a foreigner, sees the storm brewing behind his friend’s golden eyes.

 

“I am your Father and your Lord, Sesshomaru. You will not speak to me as thus.” The deadly calm in that tone should have been enough to send hordes running for cover.  Like the eye of a tsunami, the calm is only an indication of the chaos yet to come.

 

Unafraid, the young prince, hardened by his life in the wilds, mirrored his sire in more ways than just with silver hair and golden eyes.  He is also unable to back down, especially not with the bitterness of his exile still souring in his belly. Slowly, gaze never wavering, the young inu stands with the grace of a serpent ready to strike.  He does not look away from his dread sire to speak.

 

“Leave us.”

 

Reinstated as the Prince of the West, Sesshomaru’s order was valid, but many of the advisors sent furtive glances at the Inu no Taisho for conformation. His minute nod signaled affirmation. The many advisors and governors stood from their spots and bowed before turning tail to run.  Only Yao Xin at the Inu no Taisho’s right hand stayed, moving to stand at the back by the door to be out of the way but close for in-case things got...difficult.

 

Father and son stared one another down until the others left.

 

“Your bitterness sways your prejudices you, my son.”

 

“This Sesshomaru has seen the destruction humans have wrought upon the land. They are a plague.”

 

“Regardless, they deserve the benefit of the doubt, for they are our people.”

 

At this, his eyes narrow, “do they, Lord of the West? Your own offspring was banished and beaten without just cause, yet humans that obliterate one another and demon-kind are given mercy? Perhaps bitterness merely gives this Sesshomaru, perspective as you so desired when you cast me from your lands.” His hands are tingling, muscles coiling with the moment to spring should his sire attack—a high possibility Sesshomaru is prepared to face.

 

The Inu no Taisho doesn’t flinch at the accusations, but his eyes are darker gold with inner turmoil.

 

“Your strength is mighty, Sesshomaru, and you walk the path of conquest.  A sovereign must be cruel to be kind and make difficult decisions that may affect all those under his might. But, any lord worthy of his title must have weaknesses in order to have enduring strength, and you do not have the heart of a ruler—not yet, pup.”

 

With that, the Inu no Taisho sweeps from the council chambers and leaves his offspring wondering what just happened.

 

With Yao Xin in the main tent, Sesshomaru is satisfied they have taken every precaution to keep the final groups of Mongolians from sweeping through the lands to the other palaces of Nippon.  Even the ships sailing around the island have been spotted and several demonic units detached to eradicate this threat.  His eyes roam the huge map laying out before the groups showing where the invaders have been spotted and their troops sent in as offense.  The traps are in place, and only time stands in the way of the spring.  Yet, the main plans stay in place—the bulk of the army would return to the West, others would be dispatched to scour the area for any more stragglers in the dense forests.  All contingencies are covered.

 

“Tonight, the army will camp and regain its’ strength, then continue to the palace at dawn. This Sesshomaru and his brother will return soon. There is still much to be done,” tonelessly, the demon lord dismisses his generals and advisors.

 

“As you command, milord!” Shuffling out, they move to spread orders, delineate troops, and send missives via dragon.  The late afternoon sun is slowly nestling into the curve of the mountains, and the moon is already reflected in the sky.

 

Yao Xin also takes a humbling bow and exits the war tent, going to check on his children and other preparations to feed such a large army. Perhaps he would send out a few groups of hunters to bring back extra meat.

 

Sesshomaru, however, remains staring at the map before him—the memory of that first meeting still lingering on the edge of his consciousness.  At that time, he was still unschooled in the art of political maneuvering or the burden of responsibility necessary for becoming a lord, a shogun.  He had been overly-arrogant and mistrustful, even after his father’s welcome back into the royal house.  At every opportunity, Sesshomaru had defied his seemingly ever-patient father out of some need to continue the blood feud that haunted his every waking moment for two hundred years. Grudgingly, over time, he had eventually come to respect his sire as a monarch, but never would the younger inu give over his trust. Not until several centuries later would Sesshomaru, Prince of the West, place his faith in the Inu no Taisho—as well as in human kind.

 

Closing his eyes to disperse the past, Lord Sesshomaru fights the strange feeling of déjà vu when he last argued with InuYasha.  As before, his own past rises up from the ghosts of memory and strikes as inopportune as Naraku, and give him the patience and will he may need to deal with his baby brother.

 

The scent fast approaching breaks him from staring at the map in front of him, and the demon lord turns to the flap of the tent—calm and emotionless as always.

 

“SESSHOMARU!!”

 

That tone certainly brings back memories.  Automatically, the demon lord’s hand twitches closer to his sword on pure, blank instinct—if he didn’t have the self rigid self-control honed during centuries of solitude, he would have pulled his sword in preparation for battle.  Then again, if he and the owner of that irritated tone hadn’t shared something so intimate, so close, then he wouldn’t be here in the chase for a lost kit in the first place.  He restrains the need to sigh with irritation.

 

In less than moments, an irate hanyou shoves the flap back and comes stalking across the floor.  Trailing behind him are the two guards from the kitsune’s tent, hot on his heels as they were directed.  Once seeing their lord standing unfazed in the face of the hanyou’s angry youkai, the two soldiers bow hastily and back out of the tent to stand at the entrance flaps.

 

None of this stops the striding hanyou, murderous intent on his face, and he comes perilously inside the demon lord’s personal space bubble. He stops pointedly, crosses his arms over his chest, and his bare feet strain to raise him on his toes to put them as close as nose-to-nose as possible. Inflamed golden eyes meet the same gaze, more controlled and calm.  To accommodate the hanyou, Sesshomaru tilts his chin down to give InuYasha the full benefit of his stare.

 

“What in the name of Buddha’s left nut is up with tweedle dumb and tweedle fuck-head? I ain’t some goddammed puppy that needs a keeper or some shit.”

 

“As usual your choice of language is entertaining yet unnecessary.”

 

“Shit, damn, piss, assface, cock-sucker, motherfucker, kissass, pissant, bitch-lickin’, shit-for-brains, left nut. There, now it’s outta my system.”

 

“Charming.”  Sounding as bored as possible, the demon lord arches a brow.

 

“Ain’t it just? That’s why the chicks are all over me. Anyhow, what’s up with the guard detail?”

 

Giving him a patient look, Sesshomaru merely sniffs, “we are obviously surrounded by an army of demons—soldiers, lords, and generals. Many are powerful ones that would not mind having the Prince of the West as his mate, beta or alpha. The two guards are loyal and strong of will enough to help you fight off advances from other demons. Unless, that is, you prefer to face another such as the dragon from the cavern?”

 

InuYasha eases back down on the flat of his feet, hackles slowly easing down.

 

“Granted, creating a wave of youkai without the use of Tetsuaiga to concentrate your power is quite an impressive feat; however, demons with the need to mate will not stay still long enough for you to utilize such an attack, or that of the Wind Scar. Close quarters combat is what will keep you safe.”

 

Well, damn.  I didn’t even realize that’s what I did at the time.

 

“My youkai is changing and crap, yeah, I get that, but there ain’t been any spikes, so I think the worst is over.” (Hard dick in the cave, nonwithstanding).

 

It is then—miraculously, that the demon lord’s cold, calm expression falls completely away.  He even draws back an inth in surprise. Surely he cannot be that incredibly ignorant of demon ways. Even in exile, this Sesshomaru witnessed many demons in the throes of maturity Heat...

 

The surprise on his older brother’s face makes the hanyou have some immediate doubts.

 

His irritation is back and wells up deep from the recesses of his belly; hadn’t he told the hanyou about this more than once? Hadn’t he explained about the potion? Hadn’t he already forbade, forbade his younger sibling from running off so another demon doesn’t violate him?!  Hadn’t he already suffered a difficult blow to the pride for this little mongrel’s sake? Nothing, not even meditation is going to help right now.

 

“How in the Seven Hells have you lived this long?”

 

InuYasha cringes back even though Sesshomaru hasn’t really raised his voice in the slightest but hisses the curse between clenched teeth. It’s enough the icy asshole actually lowers himself to use a world like Hell. Part of the hanyou (that isn’t leaning back) is slightly impressed.

 

“Is it sheer luck or rampant stupidity? Do the Gods refuse to kill off the most simple of fools?!” Sesshomaru advances small steps at a time, “have you survived simply due to some quirk of the fates designing you to be this Sesshomaru’s downfall?!  Foolish little brother!”

 

“Hey now—“

 

“Not only have you dishonored me in the eyes of my troops and an insolent, flea-ridden cur, when only your welfare and honor my goal, but now you dare accuse me of deceit! As if this lord would lie about something so dire as your miserable life.” Nose to nose, toe to toe, the demon lord’s anger radiates higher as each word falls. “You dishonor me!”

 

Like hell! “Don’t be getting all high and mighty on me, Sesshomaru. Yer the one that said ya didn’t know about this Heat crap because I’m a hanyou. We don’t know nothing for sure!”

 

Taking a deep breath, and that spicy tint invading his sense, the lord merely curls his upper lip to bare a fang and his youkai rises to the fore. “Then we shall have to test this theory, won’t we?”

 

Like a scalding wave, the power slams head first into the young hanyou with the force of a fist without knocking him clear on his ass. His jaw clenches with the pressure and tingling that marches all over his body like insects pressing in on him. The hanyou takes a step back before he really thinks about it, but the feel to Sesshomaru’s youkai is so very different from before. It makes every muscle in the younger’s body tighten in anticipation of a bloody, down-and-out fight.

 

 His blood screams for his body to run, fast and far. This feel was and was not Sesshomaru. This twist to his elder brother’s power reminds him of the days when they hated one another, when all the asshole wanted to do was end his life. The anger, the domination, the coercion to kneel in submission is there in that press of power. You are nothing. A mongrel bastard from your weakling of a mother.

 

Fangs glint in the light.

 

Outside, the waves of youkai permeate the forest and drive even the strongest of demons to their knees. The urge to submit to such an incredibly powerful alpha aura is more than compulsion or instinct; the pure force of that power acts like a hand pressing upon the army—soldiers, general, and prisoners alike.  Badzar and Sarangerel cringe in the very backlash even thought hey are far from the main tent, staring at one another in abrupt realization of what their people have faced in battle.  Close to the group of prisoners, Yao Xin and several wolves stare wide-eyed in the direction of the alpha aura while their men fall to their knees in supplication. Only Kouga and Xin stay standing against the oppressive force, but the effort is obvious in the strain of their bodies and the fine sheen of perspiration.

 

“What the fuck is mutt face trying to do?” Kouga muses aloud.

 

“My lords are seemingly in a battle of wills,” Xin guesses accurately, “Lord InuYasha is strong, but his elder sibling is much more stubborn than even his father.”

 

After some hesitation, the wolf prince asks, “...he gonna—hurt the mutt? I mean, they hate each other, right?”

 

“Lord Kouga,” Yao Xin spares the prince a patient look, “you are also among the upper echelons of royalty. Do you truly not know of how the hierarchy trains their sons?”

 

For a few moments, the prince doesn’t get what the advisor is hinting in that mild tone of voice. His gaze is drawn unerringly toward the waves of youkai and that sickeningly sweet smell starting to permeate through the woods...his own body begins responding to the pheromones and his instincts come alive. The strength of that smell goes in through his lungs and into each cell of his body, causing goosebumps to break out all over. A powerful demon in need of a mate...

 

Training their sons...training their heirs...

 

Intellect kicks in past the arousing scent, and Kouga forces himself to calm down off his hackles and turn toward the advisor with wide, blue eyes. The next bit comes out in a hushed whisper, so soft Yao Xin has to strain to hear. “The...the Trial? Seriously? They put mutt face through the Trial? That’s why he’s been out of the West his whole life?” The wolf sucks in a breath as a lot of things he’s seen finally make some sort of crazy sense. “I thought that shit was just for the oldest. Fuck, my brother had to...” he trails off with a shake of his head.

 

Yao Xin merely shrugs, “the council is peculiar in their designs.”

 

“Holy shit. I mean, he fucking killed Naraku and got rid of that damn jewel. Wasn’t that shit enough?”

 

“Apparently not, milord.” Mildly, Xin gives the younger wolf the full weight of his gaze.

 

“Well, damn... So Sesshomaru doesn’t really hate that mutt after all?”

 

Without going into more details, Yao looks up to the sky. “I believe the worst of winter is over, milord. Perhaps spring will be on its’ way soon.”

 

Back inside the main tent, the hanyou refuses to let his knocking knees falter or give out on him: his heart is picking up speed in time with the pulsing waves of power, his skin itches and tingles all over, even his muscles twitch and begin to weaken with the need to take or be taken. If he allows himself to be lost, to give in to the wall of strength, he’d be nothing better than a bitch in Heat for any male demon.  If he fights the urge to submit, if he can find the inner will to dominate, his pride might stay intact. If he runs now, the chase will start and his downfall will be imminent.

 

But, this is the hanyou, InuYasha. Slayer of Naraku. Wielder of Tetsuaiga. Outcast ass-kicker extraordinaire. Sesshomaru can shove all the youkai he’s got down the hanyou’s throat, and he still, still won’t give in enough to kneel in submission. Oh hell fucking no. It’ll be a cold day in hell when this half-breed kneels. Grinding his fangs together, he locks his legs and lets out a throaty growl of warning. Half lost in his own demonic needs, Sesshomaru growls low in his chest in reply. The army outside is forgotten, his past transgression, his failures and triumphs, his desire to make his younger brother return to the family in safety and honor...all of it forgotten once the waves of youkai create a chain reaction. The hanyou’s Heat scent gets heavier and more pungent, thicker among the power to mix in a heady environment. The tension between them thickens as well, causing both to rise to their hackles.

 

One wrong move will release their animalistic natures with raw, wild instinct. Blood would fly or clothes would be torn. Trust would be lost.  Without being fully aware of it, InuYasha’s animal side knows this is unlike the last time. There would be no easy or gentleness to the next bout of mating....

 

Still, he is who he is.

 

“What the fuck are you trying to prove?” InuYasha stops himself from backing down and shoves his shaking muscles forward to put his chest right against Sesshomaru’s vibrating one. “Is this how you try to get me to trust you?!”

 

Red clashes with gold in Sesshomaru’s eyes, “I am proving a point, InuYasha.” The harsh tone, so unlike the normal, cold, unruffled calm, makes him flinch slightly. Well, damn, seems like Sesshomaru has his breaking point too...

 

“I am powerful,” this statement punctuated with an abrupt, sharp wave. “Our sire was powerful,” another sharp slap of youkai makes the hanyou jerk. “And you are powerful.” A final wave finally takes his knees out from under him. “You have not even begun to realize...” trails off in a soft woof and something in InuYasha’s chest rises to answer, a noise coiling from the center of his chest to erupt from his throat.  The bark is a noise he can never remember making and is the beginning for him.  His body knows more than his mind the changes need to start and start soon.  Something, some crazy feeling creeps its way up his spine and spread through his limbs in burning/freezing bolts to every nerve ending. His eyes go wide, so wide the whites take up the majority of his face.

 

And then, Sesshomaru has moved too fast again, looming over the younger, reaching down to haul him up with one hand. “But you cannot believe in me or what I try to tell you—even when I do so without so many words but my actions. As always, you must learn the hard way.”

 

In a breath, the two condense in a ball of light and speed out of the tent.

 

Wide-eyed, the two soldiers stay kneeling and watch as the ball of concentrated youkai speed off into the afternoon sky.  Slack-jawed, the two look at one another and in one smooth move, leap up to tell advisor Xin that the lords are... gone.

 

VII

In a condensed state, clawing and biting should not be a possibility. Really. How can you bite someone if you can’t feel your damned jaw?  But still, the stench of blood emanates from the small ball streaking across the countryside—a tingy, coppery scent full of the heady weight of power.  The mingling scent from two inus isn’t enough to draw predators or desperate scavengers—not even starving to death is enough to make anyone that stupid.

 

A good shot to a recently-grown-back-arm tests the limits of a certain demon lord’s patience.  The ball re-shapes in mid-air, catching the younger one by surprise as gravity kicks in, and the two inus crash into the ground, tearing huge chunks of earth spewing in all directions to show for the skidding halt.  In mid-ass-slam, InuYasha growls and shoves his brother on bottom to take the brunt of the impact.

 

Animals in the area scatter at the whips of youkai and commotion the two are causing as they pick themselves up and stare for less than a blink before both forms move in barely-there shadows. The first strike at one another causes a blacklash of power that spreads for miles and throws the combatant back into the foliage.  It’s only temporary as InuYasha rebounds off a broken tree and Sesshomaru’s heels dig in to slow himself before he slingshots back to meet the on-coming claws already pungent with the scent of his blood from the earlier cheap-shot.  Miffed at being bitten (such a degrading strike, a low-blow even for InuYasha!), there is no delicate treatment or understanding of his hanyou sibling at this time.  All his best intentions, all his determination to bring InuYasha home, and all his vows to make his brother feel welcome within the fold are forgotten in the blink of the heat of battle.  Specifically claws only since InuYasha pointedly ignores the Tetsuaiga to work out whatever insanity is going on in his mysterious little mind with fists and solid blows.  For Sesshomaru, it has been quite some time since he’s had the pleasure of claws and fists rather than steel and massively destructive youkai explosions. 

 

In this vein, the two go at one another hand-to-hand in a blur of furious blows. No swords, no poison whips, no huge doggie forms, only claws and fangs. Any pretense of control is slipping away by the moment, by the strike, by the whirl of copper surrounding them, and the animal instincts in both rise to the fore.  Biting, nipping, clawing, swiping, the mating dance is an intense display of raw power, speed, grace, and skill. Blood flies from superficial wounds, and clothing tears as the dance goes on and on.

 

Strike after strike, move by move, the two tear their way through the country side. For InuYasha, this catharsis is long overdue. A lifetime of scorn and disdain, of hate and pain at his brother’s hands cannot simply be forgotten—no matter how honorable Sesshomaru’s purpose might have originally been. He needs this fight. He needs to sink his claws into flesh, and his fangs to draw blood. He needs to score a few hits for all those “half-breed mongrel” remarks, and that fucking cowardly-ass eye bullshit to get to the old man’s grave. Yeah, sure, he fucking gets it: the asshole did all that shit for him. Yeah, so he owed the bastard. Fine. Sure. What-the-fuck-ever. It’s true that Sesshomaru had tried to be a good brother since the trial ended and be all cool about trying to make him feel at home. Whooptie-fuckin’-shit. All that effort didn’t change the last two hundred years, and some part of him, some deeply hidden anger, still stews.  Mixed with his instincts to mate, with the maturation, with the half-potion in his system, and the press of the alpha aura, all create a crazed emotional mess. His reaction—to fight tooth and claw to every drop of blood and each ounce of flesh.

 

The earth bares the scars of his fight, his denial, his anger. Sesshomaru’s pretty face has four claw marks from temple to chin, from left shoulder to elbow, and thigh to knee; oddly enough, those are the most hits InuYasha has scored at one time, and his older brother doesn’t even seem a little pissed about them or the blood staining his haori.  Well, that’s just fine too. InuYasha has a whole lot more ass whuppin’ to dole out, and he’s sure he’ll eventually strike a nerve.  Not that he’s totally unscathed or anything. Sesshomaru’s older, faster, stronger, and a full demon to boot. He’s scored some good, painfully fan-fuckin-tastic hits in his own right. The flesh of InuYasha’s side is scored by claws, and a good sized hunk is taken out of thigh and opposing calf in Sesshomaru’s attempt to slow him down.  Stupid asshole doesn’t even realize the pain, the agony, the wounds and sores InuYasha has had while fighting for his life, his very existence. All the physical pain just becomes a dull roar in the background of his mind—to strike, to plan, to dodge, all these are at the forefront of his attention.

 

And the sun takes the last vestiges of light, her kin, the moon, takes over to spotlight the volley of blows through the dense trees, out into a span of grass and finally to another shoreline.

 

It’s been hours since the first blows were thrown.

 

Growling, InuYasha reeks of blood, anger, and pheromones. If he isn’t diverted from this path soon—the berserker rage will take over. Of course, the demon lord is aware of this very real possibility.  With so many unknown factors determining the younger’s volatile blood, a small push could be the line between feeding into the primal lust or fighting the bloodlust.  At first, the blows were all thinking, reasoning hanyou, but the last hour, as the sun went down, the attacks are more bestial and brutal, less strategic and more constant—heedless of his own injuries. Once the hanyou’s body would begin to give our, his strength waning dangerously, he would be even more dangerous—more unpredictable.

 

Sesshomaru ducks in a blink, barely missing claws to his chest and shoulder, but the hanyou sails over his head with missed opportunity—apparently suprized at the move. He yelps hoarsely in guttural noises and lands with a harsh thug into a gathering of bamboo.  The wind is knocked out of him, and the anger-driven hanyou can only focus on struggling to get his feet under him as the gentle breeze brings Sesshomaru’s coppery scent closer.

 

A moment of nostalgia hits him in his half-aware state: the bamboo field, Souryuuha... I should have died there. But he kept humiliating me, keeping me alive.

 

Sesshomaru’s eyes narrow as he remembers the same moment when time seemed to freeze...their eyes meet in that shared memory.

 

Hands twitch, both toward the hilt of a sword at the waist—the want to pull the weapon almost too strong to overcome.  Across the stalks of broken bamboo, hands hovering over the hilt, gold eyes read gold, waiting for the next move. The striped wrist tightens and lowers slowly away from Bakusaiga, the movement obvious.  He stands in his position rather than make the next attack.  He merely waits for the next move, the next breath, the next muscle to move.  Across the yards separating them, the hanyou just stares; he does not attack again.

 

For the first time in hours, some of his consciousness seems to return.  InuYasha stands with back straight, arms hanging loosely at his sides (away from the Tetsuaiga) as blood drips in a slow staccato from claws and body.  Surprisingly, he hadn’t tried the Blades of Blood or Iron Reaver Soul Stealer—attacks he favored during hand-to-hand combat.  Hot-headed and impetuous as the younger one always was, this attack lacks something very important—something wholly InuYasha. Abruptly, with their scents swirling around them in this field, the demon lord starts as he realizes what is missing. Heart. That is what he is missing now.  In all the times I have come across him battling, he has thrown every ounce of strength, every bit of courage and skill into whatever opponent has faced him. His normal passion is not present.

 

But, the half-animal, guttural tone from the all too-human looking throat interrupts his thoughts.

 

“I hate you.”

 

Unruffled, Sesshomaru pauses before his eyes lose a hint of that coldness. “I am aware.”

 

“Y-you could have fought for me more—if you really gave two shits.”

 

“I did everything in my power—“

 

“I always wanted you. Just you to be my brother. Do you know how fucked up that is? How stupid that makes me?  How pathetic? Not even a brain-damaged mongrel will go looking for a kick in the gut.”

 

“...I did, once. With our father.” No elaboration. Nothing more than that simple admission.

 

A harsh bark, a laugh and half growl holds no humor.  The shadowy figure again, the wavy ghost that saved his mother and left the Tetsuaiga—that Sesshomaru fucking worshipped, his excuse for beating the hanyou into the ground. And still, he’d always hoped for better every time that scent of lightening and power—electric sizzle—carried to him on the wind.  The fleeting hope that this time, this time, might be different somehow: maybe without the obvious disdain and insults, without steel or claws, without bloodshed or humiliation... Each meeting, before and during the gods’ dammed Jewel debacle, hacked away at him in slow, minute increments. That whatever instinct Sesshomaru went on about, the one that made inus need and identified with family just got hacked all away. 

 

This admission spills out of him from out of fuckin nowhere, “I’m—broken up,” even though it’s not exactly what he means.  “I’m trying and shit, but—“

 

“I know.” The elder interrupts, countering in a tone softer than his bloodied, battle-disheveled appearance portrays.  “I know this feeling you have now, brother mine.  This hate and hope, despair and love. Uncertainty combined with expectation. You desire to believe in me as your instincts bid, but your mind cannot allow it to be reality—even to save your own.”

 

And is why you had to be tied the first time, he thinks inanely to himself—attempting to keep his neutrality in the midst of such sweet, alluring scent emanating from the only being that held any sway over Sesshomaru in the last two centuries...only his mother and their father had before him. Combined with his bestial instincts on edge from battle and bloodshed...it will happen. It must happen before both of them snap and do something of which their newly found sibling bond might not survive.

 

Yet finally, the feral tinge bleeds out of InuYasha’s scent in increments.

 

“I wanna fuckin’ bleed you for a few hundred years,” this hoarse snarled out without some of his previous fervor, “N’ then again, I just wanna—y’can’t just expect—fuckin’damn.” The words fail.

 

“It is your demon nature,” similarly, the gruff edges to his brother’s tone draws a raised brow. “And we have come to a draw in this dance, InuYasha.  It is time.”

 

“There’s still too much other shit--!”

 

“We have gone through this before. Trust will take time and of that we have precious little. This must happen, now.” The last word is lost in a span of empty air since Sesshomaru is well-aware of the younger inu’s rather skittish behavior once intimacy is involved.  Like a leopard waiting patiently for prey to lull into secure inattentiveness, his tightly coiled muscles were just waiting for the moment when he could spring.

 

He is on the hanyou too fast for the mind to even comprehend movement.

 

The two do down quickly in a tumble of limbs, crimson, and silver.  The hanyou grunts as the weight of his brother, armor, tail, and all knock him back into broken bamboo. His hands are momentarily entangled in sleeves and give the demon lord the open moment he needs.  Before more banter starts spewing, Sesshomaru dives in and silences this strange, emotional side of normally fiery sibling that he is finally coming to understand.

 

The body beneath him squirms in an attempt of escape, the jaw clenched against the demon lord’s mouth. Lips smash without any of the previous heat or desire.  It would not be an easy fight, for the hanyou is and always has been a fast learner and adaptive to any surroundings.

 

Sesshomaru, however, has age and experience on his side.  Another flare of his youkai makes the hanyou gasp just long enough for a smooth, wiggling appendage to slither inside his mouth and wrap around his tongue. As gross as it should have been, as pissed off and confused as he is with the way life is just getting fucked up, the combination of power and sensation feels way too good to ignore. Well, it feels better than it should, and a tinkling of that previous lust uncoils from somewhere in his lower belly.  Even with all that metal, bone, and kimono keeping their bodies separate, the hanyou’s mind’s eye knows the sights and scents below the surface. Unbidden images flash before his eyes as his senses fill with the sizzle of Sesshomaru’s musk, the taste rolling over his tongue and down his throat when he convulsively swallows.

 

Here he is again being wrapped up in his brother, even with all their clothes on—his body starts to respond, and damned if he can just blame it on the Heat still hiding the surface of his pride. It’s not the burn or scorch of maturation...it’s the memory of those hands on him, that mouth’s wet, velvety paths over his body in places no one had ever dared touch a hanyou. The demon lord had lowered himself to touch and rub against his tainted half-sibling.

 

The mouth moves on top of his own the tongue sweeps, tangles with his in an unwilling dance he can’t escape.  His mind fogs out as the beginnings of his Heat responds to the this simple stimulation; even with clothes still covering him, his skin tingles with anticipation and becomes more sensitive to the stimulation of his fire rat rubbing against him as he moves.  Noises of denial eek out of his throat and into the mouth above him but lust has begun wrapping around his brain and senses until all he can smell and hear is Sesshomaru.

 

Rising up abruptly, the armor is gone in the blink of an eye and the pounding youkai presses in on him again without the bone and metal as a dampener.  Golden eyes snap open when the mouth leaves his own, and InuYasha stares up at his brother with wide, innocent eyes, watching the demon lord’s striped wrists move to untie his obi and open his kimono with measured movements.  The wildness is there, under the calm surface, but Sesshomaru’s eyes are different than the first time. The gentle attentiveness might still be lurking, but there is something very different about his brother’s intense gaze that makes the hair on InuYasha’s neck stand on end.  He should move, now. He should be trying to get up and lash out, to start the fight all over again. He should remember all those years of pain and abandonment. He should want to die than give into the guy that left him to live or die alone.  He should rear up right now and shove his claws right through the bastard’s gut until it comes out the other side.

 

He shouldn’t, under no fucking circumstances, want the icy fuck-tard to go on and give him more—more touching, more tasting, more tight pressure...

 

However, even though InuYasha is famed for fighting until the last call, for his insurmountable will and stamina, for his value of life and lack of care of his own, for his pride and honor...his mind cannot will his body to strike out. As much as his pride rails against him, as much as his mind refuses to connect with his lusts, the truth is that he’s been waiting for this...wanting this again.  Every muscle in his body tenses as Sesshomaru’s shoulder, arms, and abdomen are bare in the moonlight—the glow reflecting off his skin like the gleam off a precious gem.  The carved perfection that is his brother is truly something to behold.  His mouth waters. His own member swells under the hakama at what he knows will come next.  Their last encounter surfaces, and to see his brother smile, to hear the small noises, to know he causes and will be given such pleasure of the flesh...

 

Unavoidably, the trigger sets off a massive pulse, and InuYasha’s body unconsciously arches hard from between Sesshomaru’s legs, his back bowing. In surprise, the hanyou’s mouth opens in an O just as the full force of his expanding power peaks and sends a pulse through him and outward. The Heat rears up and surrounds him, boiling him inside his skin. It’s all so quick, a small cry of shock is wrung from his throat, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the abrupt pain lancing through his insides.  With every beat of his heart, the pulses of his maturing youkai resound.

 

The animal in Sesshomaru responds immediately with a low growling, and his claws render the hanyou’s covering to strips. The logical part of the demon lord that is still functioning knows the clothing has to come off to try cooling InuYasha at the height of the spikes, but the animal is only concerned with baring its fare to the skin.  With such an enchanting creature under him, the inu wants to roll around in that scent, to lave the sweet skin with his tongue, to make the creature smell even more tasty with the hint of arousal permeating the air...

 

Shredding his clothes make the half-aware hanyou snap back into reality, to swim up through the layers of pain to take in his surroundings.  His body is on fire, but his muscles twitch with anticipation and strength.  The weakness in his knees is nothing compared to the surges of power expanding inside him, barely contained in a sac of skin and tissue. At that moment, the fire rat in shreds and Sesshomaru’s eyes flickering from red to gold, InuYasha is actually sure, almost positive, he could take his elder brother. The awakening animal in him knows the ass-kicking would be fucking glorious. Another rolling growl echoes from his brother’s throat, a warning as though he is reading the hanyou’s mind and body language.

 

Without bothering to retort, InuYasha bares his teeth in aggression and snaps his upper body, claws extended, as his powers pulse again.

 

Sesshomaru only catches a glimpse of the pale light, his hackles on the rise, before the searing pain of spiritual power touches him in a shocking reaction.  He gives a sharp snarl before springing out of the blast range, luckily only taking a partial shot; however, it is a critical one. The scent of his stinging, burning flesh irritates his sensitive nose and makes the animal flinch with wariness.  This would be more complex than before. Glaring through the gentle illumination surrounding his brother’s body, Sesshomaru is momentarily awed by the sight. No half-demon he has ever heard of could utilize or maintain spiritual energy; as a matter of fact, the spiritual power should be at odds with his demon blood and partially purify him.  How he maintains the balance is astounding and impossible.

 

Could this be part of his maturation?  The ability to maintain a balance between demonic and sacred without killing himself in the process...

 

A flash of Lady Izayoi’s face makes the demon lord’s eyes narrow in regret and enlightenment.  Of course, other than her human form on his night of weakness, InuYasha would have to inherit something else.  However, the Heat would still have to be tamed to keep the hanyou alive, regardless of how this new power might affect his youkai.

 

InuYasha stares for a blink, remembering the moment when he was trapped in that cavern—not able to use his claws or Tetsuaiga to get him free of the two fuckers yanking at him from both ends.  Is this it? The power I’ve used before?

 

The glow fades into gentle nothingness, but in its place comes the onslaught of his Heat. A great wave of scorching power rolls from his toes up his spine in searing agony.  This time, the sound erupts from his throat in a mass of pain.  That pain reaches a place in the demon lord that brings him further out of the beast’s embrace and into his right mind.

 

His narrow as his brother’s body contorts, tenses, strains at the blast of power rising and falling like a tidal wave.  The wide golden eyes are going shocky with the pain of it, and perhaps the stubborn youth will finally give the demon lord a little credit.

 

As I said, this Heat may kill you, foolish hanyou!

 

Sesshomaru rises, bare-chested and graceful to make his way back to InuYasha’s side. By then, the young body is convulsing with the intense waves of power, ones so strong that Sesshomaru must plant himself in place to keep from being shoved back at the intensity of it. He brings up both arms to shield his eyes and face from the assault of pure energy shoving against his body.  Only the strongest of demons would be able to withstand the waves to mate with InuYasha, and luckily, the dai-youkai is up to the challenge.  His own animal roars to take the entreating fare, the pure, raw force is a heady combination—the feel of such power contained in a beautiful, delicate yet strong, vessel makes the inu’s mouth water to taste the sizzle of power linger over the delectable skin.

 

Before he fully realizes, Sesshomaru is moving at the wave’s de-crescendo and kneels by the squirming, agonized hanyou.

 

Now, the influence of the potion is kicking in, and it is already too late for any further fanfare.  His head dips to the spot just above the wildly hammering heart, his mouth suctioning over the hard pulse over InuYasha’s left pectoral. The pulse is too fast, and the demon lord wraps both arms around the flailing body to heft his brother up and into his lap, to put them chest-to-chest with the twitching legs sprawled around Sesshomaru’s hips.  His mouth working, the demon lord’s tongue stretches out to lave the male nipple with attention and draw it into the wet cavern of his mouth.  One hand gathers up the twitching wrists to hold the arms behind InuYasha’s back to keep him from fighting and to keep him subdued enough to give in to the sensations of intimacy. 

 

Wringing cries of another nature, Sesshomaru sucks harder, wraps his tongue around the taunt little nubbing to create an exquisite friction.  After the waves calm just slightly, he moves quickly to the other nipple and affords the same attention. The chest heaves, spasms and the hard member pressing against Sesshomaru’s lower belly proves he is indeed succeeding.  The convulsions calm to just twitches and the heat radiates off his skin rather than pulse with power; the bloodlust is turning to physical.

 

And yet, this is only the beginning.

 

His mouth skims over more flesh, laving the base of InuYasha’s tanned throat with kisses and licks to taste as much flesh as possible.  Just like before, the sweat and sweetness that is all hanyou rolls over his tongue and feeds his own desires for this intimacy. Every inch of throat and shoulder is nibbled, sucked, and licked while their members harden painfully between their bodies at the sweet and painful friction.  The arms in Sesshomaru’s grip strain with the sensations and power pulse like an invisible force wavering between them.

 

Safety.

 

Shaken from his exploration, Sesshomaru represses a groan. However, out in the open, they are too exposed to danger and attack; nothing would be more irritating than being interrupted at a crucial moment. Pulling himself out of InuYasha’s scent and reactions, the demon lord rears up to connect their mouths, sharing the sweetness of intimacy. Once more, the two condense into a ball of light and vanish into the night.

 

 

 

 

A/N:

This took so long to write and I apologize; the muse was nowhere to be seen for quite a while.  I brought this up in MS Word and just stared for hours, unsure where to go next L... To make matters worse,  life has been incredibly chaotic right now that I just couldn’t think of what to write, but I wanted to update, regardless. Please review if you have time, suggestion help make writing easier.

 

Ajj: O.O!! Wow, that’s an honor!!!! Thank-you for your nomination, I am humbled that someone as creative as you would think this piece is worth the time.  *Sigh* I feel like I’m tromping through mud a bit, but it’s getting there.

Vyper: Yeah...I’m a jerk for waiting for the full scene, but I just petered out on this chapter L

C-Loke: Thank-you! I love the idea that Sesshomaru really loved Lady Izayoi as well. Glad you do too!

Red: No worries, don’t be stressed!. Keep up the reviews to keep me writing (you have no idea how much everyone’s reviews fuel the gears!!) Thanks again.