Penetration

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In This Chapter: Violence, Language

Chapter One

Swords clashed with loud rings of metal on metal, both inuyoukai long past the point of releasing their deadliest attacks. Sweat dripped into Inuyasha's eyes in almost rhythmic stings as he panted harshly, and even the unflappable diayoukai's breathing had become audible to the half-demon's sensitive ears.

It was the end, Inuyasha knew, as he leapt back a few feet - all his tired legs could manage as tense muscles screamed in protest - and leaned heavily on Tetsusaiga for a moment. The last loose thread to be pulled. Naraku was defeated, Kagome had gone forever back to her time, and Miroku and Sango had settled down somewhere to raise a family, Shippo going with them. Life had ground to a halt for Inuyasha... except for one thing.

Which son of the Inu no Taisho was truly superior to the other?

They'd clashed several times in the months since Inuyasha's journey to collect the shards had come to an end, though this time was different. Something in the air was charged and tense, ready to burst, underneath the thick scent of sweat and Inuyasha's blood. Damn bastard Sesshomaru had nicked him at least half a dozen times - he'd lost count by this point. Tokijin's blade had a faint pink tinge where it had been repeatedly stained with hanyou blood and Tetsusaiga was still clean as a freakin' whistle - well, aside from the dirt it collected whenever Inuyasha got thrown to the ground or used it as a temporary support for his tired body.

Inuyasha shifted his stance as Sesshomaru aligned his Tokijin from across the small distance between them, and growled under his breath as he felt a traitorous tremble of exhaustion run through him. How long had they been at this? Hours? Days? He'd been so focused on trading blows with the bastard that he really couldn't remember.

It had been that way since the beginning. Not the beginning of their combative relationship, but the beginning of the end, as it were.

The first time they'd battled after Kagome had returned to her time, Miroku and Sango had still been around. It had been no different than any other time they'd fought; attacks were thrown, insults hurled, swords clashed, and ultimately, the fight came to an end with remarkably little bloodshed in light of the ferocity with which they went at it. Inuyasha had been grieving for the loss of Kagome, but he hadn't been alone.

Alone.

He hated that word. He'd been that way for nearly two hundred years before Kagome came into his life, but just a few years in her company had made it seem like a distant memory. Like he had a family again, like he was wanted... needed. Now that feeling was the distant memory and he was back at square one. No Kagome, no Miroku and Sango and Shippo, no anyone.

Except him.

Maybe that was why things had changed like they did, Inuyasha reflected in an uncharacteristically pensive moment. He'd known deep down that Kagome would never have been able to stay here with him; perhaps that was why he'd unconsciously held himself back from falling in love with her completely, no matter how much it had pained him to hurt her that way. Inevitably, after she'd gone, Miroku and Sango had drifted away. Kagome had been the glue that held their small group together, and Inuyasha would never have asked them to postpone their plans for his sake. What would be the point? Even if they held themselves back for the full span of their lives, it would only be a selfish waste on his part. Their lifespans were almost nothing compared to his. It was only right to let them find whatever happiness they could, after all they'd been through.

But Sesshomaru... Sesshomaru would be around even longer than Inuyasha. Sesshomaru would always be a constant in his life. And that was why, he supposed. Why he'd begun, unconsciously at first, to seek out his elder half-brother for battles. In the heat of the moment, the life-or-death that was never really life-or-death, he could forget the shitty, aimless existence his life had become again. For Sesshomaru as well, life would go back to what it had been before Naraku instead of changing, moving forward.

Except something had changed now. Inuyasha had the distinct impression Sessomaru really was trying to kill him. They hadn't fought like this since the days after his initial acquisition of the Tetsusaiga.

"Half-breed." Sesshomaru's icy voice cut through Inuyasha's thoughts like a hot knife through butter. "Are you truly so simple-minded that you would allow yourself to become distracted during battle?"

"Fuck you, asshole!" Inuyasha shot back automatically as he hefted his Tetsusaiga up with more effort than it should have taken, even as he mentally berated himself. Fucking idiot, daydreaming when you know he's trying to kill you! You deserve to get run through!

He saw Sesshomaru's eyes narrow and locked the protesting muscles in his legs, holding his ground as he waited for the attack that never came.

As Sesshomaru took his first steps forward toward Inuyasha, body poised to break into a run - Inuyasha envied the bastard the stamina he had left - there was a crash to the daiyoukai's left, and Inuyasha's mouth dropped open as a large, mottled, purple-grey youkai charged almost drunkenly into their clearing, bellowing in animalistic rage. Driven to the point of madness by hunger, a dim part of Inuyasha's brain assumed, it locked eyes on the nearest target that smelled of blood - albeit hanyou blood, staining his sword -and therefore food: Sesshomaru.

The next few moments were a blur to Inuyasha, and yet somehow they seemed to last a small enternity. He saw Sesshomaru's attention shift as though in slow motion, saw his upper lip curl in a snarl of rage at being interrupted, but even the daiyoukai, tired by the long battle even if he would never show it, was not currently fast enough to turn to face the new attacker in time to deflect the blow aimed at him. It was an aggressive attack from the intruding youkai, fangs and claws outstretched as it strained to sink them into Sesshomaru's flesh, and Inuyasha reacted before he'd made the conscious decision to do so.

Though his legs burned at the strain, he pushed himself forward with an unintelligible cry. He ran forward three steps and then launched himself at the youkai, Tetsusaiga held high, and brought it down with a satisfying sound of metal slicing flesh, a small fountain of foul-smelling blood arching up above his blade, as he grunted out another battle cry. It was primal and instinctive and he was borne on the single, echoing thought of I'm not gonna let you get eaten, you asshole.

But Inuyasha was tired, bone-tired, and as soon as he'd struck the blow, he felt his legs finally give out. Survival instinct screamed at him that he was in the presence of a strong demon and would get killed or worse if he didn't move, but when he tried to roll away to the side, all his tired muscles managed was an ungraceful lurch. He lifted his head, panting, to gauge his enemy's whereabouts just in time to see a clawed fist heading straight for him.

There was no time to do anything more than instinctively squeeze his eyes shut in preparation for pain. The large, meaty fist struck him neatly in the head and pain exploded in Inuyasha's senses even as the thick, cloying scent of his freshly spilt blood clogged his nostrils. Dazed by the blow, he dimly felt himself flying through the air, and was confused. A confusion that lasted only moments, however, as his head struck another solid object, lights danced briefly behind his eyes, and all was swallowed in blackness.