As We Dance With the Devil Tonight

“I’ll tell you my life story if you tell me yours.” Asuka idly brushes a few red locks from her face as she waits for a reply.

Inuyasha lies beside the fiery-eyed Japanese-German girl in her bed, sweaty and unguarded after their sex. Like her, his barriers come down when they fuck. What is there to tell? He opens his mouth, closes it, trying to speak, all the while looking like a fish out of water. Finally, the half-demon says softly, “I’m from the era known as the Sengoku Jidai.”

Asuka nods. “Go on.”

“I’m a hanyou.”

“A half-demon,” Asuka muses, cupping her chin in thought.

“Yeah,” the boy continues. “I was born to the lord of the Western Lands, Inu-no-Taisho, and his human wife, Izayoi. Everyone except my friends hates me because of what I am.”

“And your parents?”

Inuyasha hesitates. That's all Asuka needs to know she's hit a nerve. She kisses him by way of apology. “Never mind.”

“My only living relative is my bastard half-brother,” Inuyasha continues with a roll of his eyes, “Sesshoumaru. He wants to kill me. Feh. He can just get in fucking line. I used to have a girlfriend…Kikyo…” It is here that Inuyasha pauses again. It's not his love life he's reluctant to discuss so much as how it was ruined. “Um, I'd continue, but somehow, I don't think you'd believe me.”

“Try me," Asuka deadpans. She takes his hand and squeezes it to reassure him. It convinces him. 

For the next hour, Inuyasha explains everything about himself and his friends—Kagome, Miroku, Sango, Shippo…whatever comes to mind. Then, Asuka knocks his socks off—so to speak—with her own tale.

“So, let me get this straight,” says the hanyou afterwards. “You, your wimpy, chronically-depressed crush and a stoic, pale, red-eyed, blue-haired chick ride giant bipedal metal monsters to fight what will total seventeen unworldly creatures. Your biological mom killed herself and was crazy enough to think a doll was you, and you hate anything remotely doll-like as a consequence. You act tough so others won’t know how insecure you really are, and…” He pauses, as if in disbelief. “You constantly put down the boy you like with the intention of getting him to stand up for himself, but it always backfires and makes him feel even more like shit.” Inuyasha looks at Asuka and shakes his head in sympathy. “And I thought I was fucked up.”

Asuka wraps her arms around him and murmurs, “Mm-hm. I’m so fucked up.” She gasps at the sudden warm feel of him.

Inuyasha pulls her closer with lust—and some other emotion—in his eyes. Slowly, tenderly, he pushes deep inside her body again. “Yes,” he rasps, “fucked up the ass.”