Instinct

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Instinct: Fraying Leash
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The few times Inuyasha had transformed to his full demon form, he couldn’t remember much at all about what had happened. There were flashes of scenes that didn’t add up, brimming with bloodlust and frenetic energy that he could feel burnt out of his muscles after he’d come back to his senses, but the only real thoughts he could drag out of the morass involved conflicting needs to kill and protect Kagome. It was like his mind blacked out during those periods, only struggling to the barest point of waking out of concern for her. Thinking over what little he knew about his demon form scared him more than he cared to admit, especially when Kagome’s life was on the line. He knew the others weren’t telling him everything that happened, and having large gaps in his memory wasn’t a pleasant sensation. He could fill in spots with the physical evidence--the dead bodies and blood on his claws, or the fear in the faces looking at him--but the little glimpses and speculations weren’t enough to fill in the holes completely.

It made him afraid, because the one thing he couldn’t fight back against was himself. He’d tried. Once a month, he strained himself for naught and still turned human under the new moon. While it was frustrating to be vulnerable and unable to protect Kagome then, it was worse to know that someday he might have a still-frame picture of her dead face floating loose in one of those blank periods and wake up to find himself covered in her blood. Or he might not even know what happened at all, just suddenly snap to himself with no knowledge of where she’d gone or what he’d done to her.

The tales he’d dragged from Miroku and the others were of a crimson-eyed demon who gloried in bloodshed and suffering with a savage laugh and smile. It wasn’t like Inuyasha’s mind disappeared and left an empty shell; this Inuyasha was intelligent and sarcastic, but simply didn’t care to stop killing long enough to say more than an arrogant wisecrack between deaths. When Sesshoumaru had beaten him down, even that mind had drowned into a killing beast who couldn’t feel pain or stop swinging his claws.

Was that what being a full demon would do to him? Would he still be Inuyasha, but an Inuyasha who didn’t care about anything but reveling in gore and losing himself in the bloodshed?

He’d always know that there were three kinds of demons in the world: the smart ones, who lived in at least a kind of civilized manner; the dumb ones, who were more like powerful animals, and the monsters. The first two categories would kill for survival or pride, but only the last would kill for no reason beyond entertainment. The monsters ranged from intelligent, evil plotters to the stupid demon that slaughtered anything that didn’t kill it first. Inuyasha had always thought his full demon form wouldn’t change how he thought any, but when Miroku’s questioning had brought it into his mind, he’d assumed that he wouldn’t be any worse than his half-brother. Sesshoumaru was a killer, but at least he lived according to what their father had taught him. He--debatably, at least--wasn’t a complete fiend.

It had come as something of a shock for Inuyasha to discover that he would fall into the third category as a full demon. To add insult to injury, he wasn’t even a smart killer like Naraku. He just killed, laughed about it, killed some more, and, when enraged enough, became nothing but the killing.

That was why the Tetsusaiga was so important. The sword protected Kagome by shielding Inuyasha from his own raging demon blood. As much as he didn’t like relying on anything, he’d clamped onto his father’s fang as soon as he’d learned that fact. He couldn’t stop himself, but the sword could. As long as he held Tetsusaiga, Kagome was safe. His father, and now his own, fang lent his body the strength to keep from changing into a monster. He’d heard the conversations the Miroku and Sango hadn’t thought he’d overheard, concerns about whether he would throw the sword away in times of direst need, but frankly, he’d never even considered the idea. It stood between him and those black-outs, keeping him from transforming into a full demon with a halfdemon’s instability.

That’s what he was hoping the problem was, anyway. If it was just the weakness of a halfling’s blood that drove him insane, then a wish on the Shikon Jewel would solve that easily. If it could turn him human, then it could give him the full blood that could keep him a being of reason. It could make him a real demon, somebody who no one could laugh at for being half human. Somebody that was feared, but only by those he meant to intimidate. Somebody Kagome could be safe with, maybe somebody who could be worthy of loving her…

But that was the future.

This was now.

In the now, the Inuyasha-Who-Could-Be wasn’t in evidence. In fact, he wasn’t even a wistful thought. The Inuyasha currently being Inuyasha would have laughed uproariously if someone had brought up the idea, if he hadn’t already killed that someone. The halfdemon Kagome knew (and loved, when she wasn’t practicing self-denial) slept fitfully under the surface of the full demon’s mind, fighting the slumber single-mindedly enough to punch through one nebulous thought over and over again: *Stay away from Kagome. Protect Kagome. Stay away from Kagome.* As determined as he was, however, he could only reach to the subconscious layers of his own mind. That would have barely been sufficient to deal with the roused instincts of a rutting male if he had remained conscious.

He wasn’t conscious. He had needed both hands to deal with the rut and its driving need for Kagome, and so he had let go of Tetsusaiga. In more normal times, it wouldn’t have mattered. He usually only transformed when he was in a hopeless situation with no way out. The throbbing in his loins, however alarming, wasn’t exactly life-threatening (unless one counted his social life, which could have taken a distinct turn for the worse had he ended up raping some poor girl out of frenzied lust). The rut called to the instincts of Inuyasha’s dog heritage, though, and his attempt to stay away from attacking potential mates had only caused the rut to dig its hormones into him all the more. His demon blood was entwined in his animal side to begin with; his resistance of the rut had weakened and distracted his human half enough to make it lose control.

If he hadn’t transformed before, it wouldn’t have happened at all. In Kikyo’s time, his body had been fully mature, but he’d never been beaten down the point that his demon blood surged to the surface to keep him alive. Once it had been freed, it wore a path in his body and psyche; it grew more effortless with time. His sword blocked the path. If he’d kept Tetsusaiga at his side, he would have remained a halfdemon. A halfdemon struggling against raging hormones and instincts, but hormones and instincts made half as strong because his blood--and therefore, the animal blood--was diluted by a human’s.

Had the rut not been made stronger by his transformation to full demonhood, Inuyasha would have started a killing rampage that would have only ended in his death. Fortunately, even monsters went into rut. Somewhere way, way back in the Inu lineage, there had been a dog demon created out of nothing but human hate, fear, or dreams. While that ancestor probably wasn’t remembered or mentioned much, it was pretty much assured that he hadn’t been the safest guy to hang around with at the family reunions. But, the fact that he’d produced a family at all was proof that even monsters had the ability to recognize and avoid killing a mate while in a state of rut. Otherwise they would never breed, and Sango’s village would have been out of a job in a generation or two.

Inuyasha’s situation was made a tad bit trickier by his shifting personalities. The Inuyasha that Kagome knew was still vaguely in the picture, poking an urgent command up before drifting back to sleep and rousing to bring the command up again. The Inuyasha that wanted to kill everything was seething in the background, continually urging mayhem. The Inuyasha who didn’t care and generally thought that bloodshed really was quite fun remained mostly in control but made distracted and bestial by the rut, which used Inuyasha the dog as a leash. That leash was tenuous, made up of lust, possessiveness, and a dominance claim. It was currently tugging all of Inuyasha along a scent trail that seemed promising.

*Because he’ll fight and lose, blood steaming on the ground as I rip the shards out of his legs and gut him…*

*Because I marked him. He’s mine. His throat exposed, my scent on his skin, and he. Is. Mine.*

*Because I can use him, body moving under me while I thrust in and out and in…*

*Because he’s running away from where Kagome is.*

The white-haired demon paused and clicked his teeth up at the waning moon, biting the air from inner frustration. An opening in the branches of the trees bathed him in silver light that gave the blood dripping from long claws a black appearance. He absently licked the back of one hand clean while his nose flared, picking up the trail of a certain wolf demon. The wolf’s tornado made finding his scent more difficult than tracking a normal demon, and Inuyasha’s frequent side trips as he caught other scents let the trail grow colder and harder to follow. He’d briefly been confused at a creek where his quarry’s scent had changed from marked to unmarked, but he’d dredged slow recognition out from under the killer’s white noise. The demon was still his, marked or not. Being unmarked just gave his savage self a step up on the rut. He’d continued following the scent with mixed lust and bloodlust, then.

He growled; low, eager, and still bloodthirsty. His side trips hadn’t satiated the need to kill, but it had felt good. If the night wind was any indication, he’d have another opportunity to kill soon. The wolf demon had found others of his kind. Prey, waiting to be run down, slaughtered, discarded. His tongue slid out to taste the air like a snake, licking his lips for the remnants of the crow demon he’d ripped apart a few minutes ago. More blood, and the fear as they felt their deaths in him, oh yes…

An unlucky animal, too maddened with fear to remain quiet and hidden, broke cover and ran. The species didn’t even register with the white-haired demon as he casually swatted it into five pieces without slowing from a ground-eating lope, There was a hot burst of fur and skin exploding open around the sensitive fingertips under his talons, a fanned spray of red on the ground and bushes, and then he had passed, the mangled corpse forgotten but for the brief taste as he licked the back of his hand again. If anyone had been alive to see him, they would have admitted there was something disturbingly sensual in the simple act. The dog demon remained naked, his straining erection exposed to the cool night breeze, and he so plainly enjoyed the way his tongue swiped across the tendons and knuckles. That tongue was long, flat, and creased like a dog’s, and it ferreted out crimson fluid from every angle, demonstrating the inhuman flexibility of the moist digit.

In a way, Inuyasha teased himself. The hypersensitivity of his skin depended on his mating habits; if he was satiated, the brush of his hair down his back became a minor distraction, but if he was denied sex, well…the moment of penetrating unwilling flesh with each finger was like pushing his throbbing cock into the torn muscle instead. The slow drip of blood and tissue running down his fingers became a caress heated enough to make him hiss in air. The long licks across his hands went straight to his groin. The sensations heightened by the minute, with even his taste buds rolling salt-sweat and salt-blood around his mouth with an intensity that made his back teeth ache. Blood from animals and insignificant lesser demons, tangy with metal but nothing like what his fangs had touched in the windstorm wolf he pursued. Saliva flooded his mouth as he remembered, aqua pupils dilating at the memory. He tongued the tips of his fangs without thinking about it. Was it the rut or the demon mind that shot a thrill of excitement sizzling from crotch to eartips? The wolf would bleed like any other, but he’d provide what the rut needed as well, and in Inuyasha’s mind, the contradicting images became tangled in a puzzle. Solving it would be an enjoyable challenge. There was a control on Inuyasha’s crazed need for the blood when it came to this one, but it was getting lost fast as the bloodlust and lust intertwined.

He’d teased himself into a frenzy, and now he’d reap the whirlwind.

Wind whipped his pale hair into a lash against his spine, and his nose lifted. The wind was to his advantage. Loping relaxed into a predator’s prowl, and Inuyasha inhaled deeply. Primitive his instincts may have been, but they were made strong by his bloodline; he smelled desperation even from here. Fear disguised, but not to his senses. It was fear that faded with each step separating the pack from the single runner, with layers of disgust, anger to the point of hatred, and defiance. His wolf approached, and the dog demon smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. It held anticipation, as if he could already hear the screaming.

A tornado swept around a hill and engulfed the white dog in its outskirts before Kouga realized he was there. The wolf immediately leapt back out of reach, reeking of alarm and blood. The alarm was that of any pack animal realizing a threat was so close to his family; the blood was crusted down the tanned skin left bare without his armor. The bloodscent had more of an effect on Inuyasha then the wind. His hair moved in response to the air currents, but his whole body tensed at the sight and smell of what he craved. His chin lifted so he could look down on the wolf, teeth showing under curled lips, and he exuded dominance. There were no words. Inuyasha was beyond them.

Kouga didn’t have time for them. His pack was retreating, but they were too close and he knew it. There was something fiercely out of control burning just under the mutt’s skin, and it fascinated and repulsed him. The wolf threw himself into motion before his tornado had faded completely, flinging a shade-enhanced kick at the paler demon’s chest. The frantic run to reach his pack in time had taken longer than he’d hoped, but the extra time had given his wounds time to knit at least a bit. His leg and side still pained him, but they were no longer the crippling wounds they had been originally. Speed for speed, he thought he had a chance.

The dog stepped back coolly and let his leg whistle past, and Kouga knew that, realistically, his speed would only be an asset in running away from this killing machine. There would be no room for half-healed wounds in a fight against the rutting demon before him. If he had the choice, he’d retreat and attack the dog once he was healed completely, but he didn’t have that choice. Broken confidence, leaking blood, and the knowledge that others were at risk if he delayed gave him a different course of action that would keep his pack and Kagome safe. All it would cost was his humiliation and submission. A small price to pay, surely.

But, oh, it felt good to spin and throw a punch, another kick, an elbow...

Outraged fury showed in the crimson-aqua eyes glaring at him, and he sneered in return. *That’s right, take the bait.*

Something shifted in the white-haired head, prismatic thought processes focusing on the dark demon as logic, bloodlust, rut, and alpha rights to the wolf were abruptly and unexpectedly challenged. No matter what scattered and unconnected part of Inuyasha had staked a claim, they all responded with a snarling, “Mine!” to the insolent attack. Other prey was forgotten. This defiance would be suppressed, because no one defied him!

“As if you could catch me!” Kouga snapped back and sprinted past the white demon so quickly that a few silvery hairs tore loose and joined his whirlwind. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, but he didn’t dare slow down. For those first vital seconds, he ran blind. As much as he needed to know if the mutt had followed his lure, he didn’t want to find out via a set of claws ripping open his chest. *I know how I would have reacted to someone taunting me like that, but please gods, don’t let him stop to think about it. Just let him chase me.*

After a full minute of the fastest sprint his sore leg could produce, he slowed enough that he no longer outran the wind. It was to his advantage as he ran with it, but if he ran faster than it could carry scent to him…ah. The mutt’s stink was closing. *And fast! Good. Er, kinda, anyway.* He stretched into a run again, certain that Inuyasha would track him, if not keep him in sight or earshot. The mutt was moving fast. The moon was low in the sky. By the time it’d be a handspan from the horizon, he’d be back at the clearing where this had all started. With any luck, that would be the end of it, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone but himself for the rest of however long this took. *Hrmph. Knowing my luck so far..?*


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End Part Seven
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Before anyone starts in on me, all I have to work with is the English-translated manga, not the anime or anything else. Therefore, I took what there was about Inuyasha’s transformations and played around with the idea of how Yura of the Hair came to life. I was going to wait and write more for this chapter, but the next scene decided to not want to be part of it. Ah, well. I think Inuyasha licking blood off his claws is sexy, if you couldn’t tell. ;)

Oh, and to those who think I’m making this fic too long…thanks for the comment, but refer back to the first chapter. Plot, dear readers. I’m trying to explain why and how everything’s happening so no one’s lost, not bore you to death with exposition. Sorry if it seems that way.

Remember, feedback keeps me interested in this story, and please let me know if there are any sites interested in this kind of thing.