A/N - I recently got back into the Inuyasha series (which I don't own, obviously) and decided to write my first fanfiction piece. This is purely for funsies, but if you guys like it, then hallelujah.

This is almost a PWP. I stand by my right to say that I made an effort at a plot. Having said that, please beware of the M rating because I went ham in trying to live up to it. You've been warned.

Note on the use of certain Japanese nouns: not trying to be obnoxious. If I use non-English words, it's because I feel that they don't have (concise) direct translations that do them justice. Definitions will follow.

Suikan - There's a lot of argument over the upper-outer layer of Inuyasha's clothing, but the closest approximation is probably this (a jacket with separated sleeves).

Hakui - Long, white, kimono-like robe. Ends around the ankles and is tied around the waist.

Hibakama - A type of hakama (traditional Japanese pants) that more closely resemble a skirt, as they don't actually have divided legs.

Hanyou - Half-demon.

Goshinboku - The sacred tree featured in the series.

Oden - Traditional Japanese dish.

Jii-chan - Informal, personal term for grandfather ("Grandpa").

Miko - Shrine maiden.

Osuwari - Translates to "sit, boy," as said to a pet dog. Triggers the beads of subjugation.

Youkai - Demon, malevolent spirit.

Sashinuki - A type of hakama that billow around the lower leg and synch at the ankle, as worn by Inuyasha, Shippou, and Sesshoumaru throughout the manga and anime.

Hanjuban - Juban refers to any garment that is worn against the skin and under other layers of clothing. Prefixes define length; hanjuban end a little below the waist.


It's the silence that wakes him.

A single beam of pale moonlight steals through the gap between the reed curtain and the doorway in which it hangs. Beyond its reach, a figure sits up in the darkness, heavy-lidded with sleep, and casts a quick glance around the hut to confirm—much to his chagrin—that he is, indeed, alone.

A quick pulse of anger drives him to his feet, bared fangs glinting in the shadows.

Inuyasha draws a clawed hand across his face as he observes the futon below him, one side freshly warm from the heat of his body, the other cool with absence. She has been gone for some time. It surprises him that he hadn't awoken sooner; so accustomed has he become to the steady cadence of her breathing during sleep that the world seems out of sync when it disappears, the same as if the forest itself had grown silent around him. It tips him off balance.

His frustration with his own delayed response only serves to fuel his irritation with her. Stupid wench, he thinks, dressing quickly in beam of moonlight, it's the middle of the fucking night. What does she think she's doing?

But then again, the inner workings of her mind have always been a mystery to him. A mystery that pisses him off without end. Admittedly, he knows he is overreacting, that he shouldn't be angry with her, that he's using frustration to disguise the heavy stone of worry that's settled in the pit of his stomach (as he always does), but she could have woken him. She could have at least offered a whispered I'll be back before disappearing into the night with—

—with his suikan.

One blink. Two. Inuyasha's gaze sweeps the small room in search of the missing garment, but, as suspected, it's as gone as she is. What isn't gone, however, are the familiar hakui and hibakama that make up her priestess attire. They remain neatly folded in the corner of the room, her bow and quiver beside them, untouched since she undressed several hours before to join him in bed. Gradually, the icy fingers of realization grip the nape of his neck, and his ears flatten against his mane of silver hair.

In the middle of the night, she's slipped away without so much as breathing a word to him, wearing nothing but his robe of the fire rat. The words walking target flash through his mind at the same time as an image of her being cornered by a demon so much larger than her, so much more powerful, who could shred her with a flick of his wrist if he so put his mind to it—

He has flown out the door and into the night before the thought can be finished.

Stale, thinks Inuyasha as he bolts through the trees, his nose tilted up to better catch the faint wisps of her scent that still linger. Her scent is stale. This bothers him more than he can say. Soundlessly, his feet hit the ground with the lightness of a predator, carrying him along on a path that he soon realizes is beyond familiar. He slows.

Pale fingers of light stretch across the sky, heralding the oncoming dawn, as the hanyou reaches the place where the trail of her scent has led him. Here, it is fresh: the tang of medicinal herbs, jasmine tea, honeysuckle, sunlight-warmed hair… and the metallic edge of a world populated with people and machines that he will never properly understand. He has found her. Inhaling deeply, relief floods through his core as he assures himself that there is no presence of blood, that her scent is not corrupted by the acrid undertones of fear. Safe. She is safe.

The Goshinboku looms before him, a silent sentinel, its great roots rearing up from the ground in a testament to its resilience. Dwelling on the influence that this single tree has held over his life often leaves Inuyasha lightheaded, unable to properly grasp how different his world would be if not for its presence. The possibilities floor him, frighten him—though he will never admit it, the gratitude he harbours for this earthly link between his world and hers shakes him to his very foundations. He knows that she understands, even though he has said nothing, knows that she feels it, too.

A flash of red catches his eye. In a single leap, he is beside her, drinking in the sight of her cradled amongst the roots. She is so small. Wrapped in his suikan, the robe very nearly swallowing her whole, she sleeps, her legs curled against her chest, her forehead resting lightly on her knees. Her expression is deceptively relaxed. Up close, he can detect the salty presence of tears that have since dried on her pale cheeks. The anger flows out of him in a smooth rush.

"Kagome?" he murmurs, reaching out to brush her bangs away.

A beat, and then she moves, shifting towards his warmth. "Hn?" One eye slides open and then the other, and then suddenly he is pinned by the sleepy brilliance of her smile. "Inuyasha… oh!" She is suddenly wide-awake. "I fell asleep? How long have I been here?"

"A few hours," he responds, trying his damnedest to ignore the way his suikan slides open as she sits up to face him. The creamy paleness of her skin taunts him from the periphery. "What happened, wench? You disappeared."

He knows his voice is gruffer than he intends, regrets every wrong he's ever committed against her when she flinches, her expression collapsing into one of pain. Something is terribly wrong. He reaches for her wordlessly, pulling her against the solidness of his chest, wishing he could destroy whatever is ailing her even though he knows he can't. It is not physical. They have been here before; these are signs he recognizes.

Kagome sighs against his shoulder. "I had a dream. I could…" Pause. "Mama was making oden in the kitchen, and I could hear Souta's voice. Jii-chan was there, too, sitting across from me." She nestles into his lap, turning her eyes to the paling sky. "I feel closer to them here."

Ten months. It's been ten months since she returned to him on that Fall afternoon, ten months since she made her choice to be with him, knowing that the well was not a portal to be abused, and that it would seal behind her once she made that fateful leap. For ten months she has agonized silently over the fact that she will never again see her family in this lifetime, that her mother was not witness to their wedding and will never get the chance to meet her grandchildren; that her brother will grow up and live the rest of his life in her absence; that her grandfather will grow older and eventually pass on, and she will not be there to see him through it.

But it has also been ten months since she returned to him. Eight months since the quiet-ceremony-turned-village-wide celebration that was their wedding, and ten months minus a day since they first made love beneath the canopy of this very tree. For ten months, she has been training under Kaede to become a miko, and it has been ten months since she was reunited with Sango and began warming her way into the hearts of her brood. It has been with grudging respect over the last seven months that Sesshoumaru has acknowledged her as the most appropriate female role model for his ward.

I made my choice, she'd reassured him once, and I wouldn't take it back for the world. But I'll always miss them.

"You should have woken me up."

Kagome leans back to gaze into his face. Gently, she traces a finger along his jawline, smiling sadly. "You can't help me with this, Inuyasha," she whispers, "as much as I know you want to. I needed to be on my own."

A sigh. He leans his forehead against hers, molten gold clashing with stormy blue. "You scared me."

Her face softens with regret, a hand reaching up to stroke his ear gently, the pads of her thumb and forefinger tracing the silky edge. This is her way of silent apology. Though she knows he'll never admit it, she has discovered that this soothes him, that it is something he allows only her to do. A low rumble of contentment reverberates through his chest and she smiles, watching his eyes close in pleasure. "The great Inuyasha, scared?" she says softly. "You can face Naraku, but you can't wake up alone?"

The rumble escalates to a growl, and she laughs.

"Let's go home."

Disaster is evident before she's even able to stand. He knows that this isn't the time, that the sudden heat in his blood is a result of all the emotion he's felt within the last twenty minutes, but… The way she's shifting against him to find solid purchase amongst the roots of the Goshinboku have him tensing, focusing all of his powers—both supernatural and otherwise—on controlling his physical reactions. All of a sudden he's too caught up on the smell of her, sweet against the freshness of morning dew, calling to him. And then she's rising above him, hands on his shoulders for stability, and all the gods above his suikan has drifted open and slipped off her right shoulder, exposing her body fully to his hungry eyes.

She is perfection. During her three years away from him, her body had lost the gangly, narrow look of the fifteen-year-old he knew to make way for the soft, rounded curves of womanhood. Her hips are wider, her waist narrow, her breasts grown heavy and full. Her pale, smooth skin is a stark contrast against the flaming red of his suikan, and he finds his mouth watering with the overwhelming desire to taste as much of it as he can.

The fire that lights across her skin when she catches his eyes upon her is one that Kagome has grown very accustomed to. Since their first night together, she has caught him in his moments of admiration—it still makes her flush with pleasure, to think of it this way—quite regularly.

Not that anyone else has caught on. They are still fiercely private about their affections. Rarely will he do more than lay a hand on her arm or back when others are present, and she, in turn, discloses nothing beyond the most boring details of her marriage to anyone but Sango—and even then, she finds that she censors herself. Needless to say, their fights are still legendary, but she smiles to think how their friends might react if they knew of either the frequency or ferocity of their coupling.

A shiver rocks up her spine when she suddenly feels his tongue tracing patterns along her hipbone. Brought back to the present, Kagome stifles a gasp upon realizing that, while she was lost in her thoughts, his hands have slid from her waist to her ass, cupping the soft flesh in order to bring her closer to his wandering lips. His eyes are closed in bliss, his ears swiveled fully forward to catch the soft sounds of appreciation that hum from her throat, the heat of his breath teasing gooseflesh from her skin as he ghosts ever closer to her—


Inuyasha's eyes fly open at the same moment as misty beams of sunlight pierce through the thick blanket of leaves above them. Dull amber is highlighted to brilliant gold as he stares up at his wife in indignation, eyebrows drawing together around the finger that Kagome has poked into his forehead to push him away from his target.

Her expression is one of irritation, but he can see the smug smirk that's hiding just below the surface of her façade. He wants to tease it out with his tongue.

"Excuse me, but I believe this is supposed to be a serious conversation," she remarks, kneeling to draw level with his eyes. "I miss my family, and all you can focus on is that?" Here, Kagome glances blatantly at his crotch. "You're worse than Miroku."

"Maybe I wouldn't have done anything if you'd actually worn some clothes," he snaps, but the harshness of his voice is as false as her reprimand.

It takes several seconds of silence for him to realize that he has stumbled into a trap.

Kagome's eyes have narrowed to slits. He gulps. "Inuyasha," she drawls, the oh-so-familiar edge to her voice as sharp as a blade, "are you saying that I was asking for it?"



She dances out of the way, barely managing to keep her balance on the great roots as the beads of subjugation pull her hanyou inexorably toward the earth. Oddly, he does not crash through these roots as he would with any other tree. Instead, he hits each one in his path and then rolls off without causing so much as a scratch.

A moment is spared for Kagome to glance up at the sacred tree in wonder. Such magic, she thinks, but is shocked back to reality by the resounding boom of a body making powerful impact with the ground below.

Instinct takes over.

In great, almost careless leaps and bounds, the young girl clambers over the roots in a break for her life. She has maybe fifteen seconds to gain as much of a head start as she can before the chase is on, and the slowness of her human body is pitted against the speed afforded to him by his youkai blood. She is doomed, of course, has been doomed since she saw him upon waking with the dawn light shining off his hair and his eyes still dark with sleep, but still she will try because the gods know that Kagome of the future has never made life easy for the half-demon Inuyasha.

Three seconds. Her feet hit the grass.

Seven seconds. With his suikan billowing behind her, she is darting through the trees as fast as her legs will carry her.

Nine seconds. An unmistakable silence has descended upon the forest, and her heart pumps wildly at the thought of what this means.

Fourteen seconds. She does not dare glance over her shoulder.

By the time twenty seconds has passed and she is still running, she knows that something is wrong, that maybe she should turn back, make sure that he wasn't hurt or that the game hasn't made him angry—

What happens next is too quick for her to fully grasp. At full speed, she collides with a solid body that was not there a moment ago. Her breath is forced from her in a heavy sigh, and she stumbles back with the force of her momentum, but strong hands grasp her upper arms before she can fall.

"You wanna play, bitch?" husks Inuyasha, eyes so molten that she can feel the liquid heat coiling through her chest and belly. "I can play."

And then the bark of a tree trunk is scratching at the soft skin of her back—where did the suikan go?—and he's right there, all over her, the length of his body pressed against hers so firmly that she can't breathe, or maybe that's because he's kissing her with bruising force, his tongue unyielding against hers. His hands are trailing flames across her skin as he slides them up her sides, his thumbs caressing the planes of her stomach, before he cups her breasts and starts rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She's angry, however, because enough with the foreplay, she wants him inside her right now but he's still clothed and that's unacceptable.

She can feel him smiling against her mouth. He can read her like an open book. Jerk.

She has regained enough control of herself to begin tugging desperately at his hanjuban with one hand while the other curls tightly in his mane of hair. "Inuyasha," she murmurs, the plea muffled against his lips, "I need—can you just—"

Inuyasha, for his part, is nowhere near finished with his line of torture. The stunt she pulled back at the Goshinboku has made sure of that. Instead of answering her, he continues kissing her with an intensity that only hints at the force he'll use to fuck her, edging a knee between her legs to make contact with her core.

"Ahn!" Kagome tears her face away from his to cry out, rolling her hips to grind herself against the rough material of his sashinuki. While she squeezes her eyes shut against the pleasure that jolts through her body, she feels his hands drop from her chest to her hips, the tips of his claws digging into the soft flesh of her back. In his grip she begins to rock back and forth, the strength of his hands providing support and rhythm. "Mmm… yes…"

Lust has settled over his senses in a haze. By now, he's so hard that maintaining his self-control is agony, but Inuyasha convinces himself that it's worth it while he watches Kagome's face twist in ecstasy. Her hands have fisted in the material of his hanjuban while she rides his thigh desperately, and he lets go of her momentarily to shrug out of it, exposing himself to her searching hands.

He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'll pay for prolonging her suffering—if he's learned anything at all about her in the last several years, it's that Kagome can't stand not giving as good as she gets. For now, however, he will draw his victory out. Her hands smooth their way across the chiseled planes of his chest and stomach, clutch at the broadness of his back to bring him closer as she lets her head fall back against the tree. His mouth is on her neck, trailing a hot swath from jaw to shoulder, paying extra attention to the deliciously sensitive spot over her pulse point as she whimpers her pleasure to the open air. The smell of her arousal is so overpowering that he can't think anymore.

Which is probably why he's so disoriented when she freezes.

"Inuyasha," she whispers, and he draws back to see her face, which is lax with shock. Her hands are clutching his shoulders tightly.

A breath; his ears swivel atop his head, seeking out signs of danger. "Kagome? What is it? What's wrong?" She is pushing him away, and, still startled by the sudden change in mood, he stumbles back, slightly off-balance.

She smiles.

Fuck is all he has time to think before the word leaves her mouth and he's flat on his back, paralyzed by the spell. "Bitch," he snarls, fangs bared, but his rage is lost on her as she giggles at the success of her trick.

Kagome straddles his hips, flattening the length of her upper body against his to kiss him languidly. Despite himself and his resolution to make this as difficult for her as possible, he leans into it, the skin of his chest burning where her breasts are pressed against him.

"I can make it up to you," she whispers, and trails a path of butterfly kisses down his torso, fingers working deftly at the tie of his obi. Inuyasha raises his head as far as he can to watch her at work. Her black hair forms a curtain of gentle waves as she parts the folds of his sashinuki to expose him, her fingers tracing his length in feather-light strokes; she flushes with pride at his sharp intake of breath. Their eyes meet—his only warning is the slight curl of her lips before they close over his swollen, purple head, sucking him deep into the warmth of her mouth.

He is lost.

The power of the rosary keeps him pinned to the ground, which is good for the young miko who is so intent on pleasuring her husband. She knows from experience that he cannot take this kind of treatment lying still. While she returns the favour of his torture with slow, languorous bobs of her head, tongue probing and massaging his shaft in smooth passes, one hand curls around his base to elicit soft whimpers and desperate bunching of his abdominal muscles. The other plays with the sensitive junction between his pelvis and thigh, grazing delicately over his balls; she smiles to herself when he whines her name.

An unbearable heat is coiling within him, wound tighter and tighter with every touch of her lips and hands. His claws draw deep gouges in the earth. It won't be long before his control snaps like Toukijin against Moryoumaru's armour. "Kagome," he hisses, "s-stop—I'm gonna—"

The spell drops its hold just as she releases him with a wet pop, leaning back in briefly to drag her tongue over his seeping slit. Kagome's cheeks are flushed in satisfaction, eyes heavy-lidded with the pleasure of having pleased him, a lazy smile pulling at her kiss-swollen lips. Inuyasha firmly believes that there never has been, nor will there ever be, a sight so beautiful as this. But the revelation is short-lived. A growl rumbling deep in his chest, he leans up to grasp her by the waist and drag her back over him, drawing her chest level with his face so that he can swirl his tongue around a pert nipple before drawing it into his mouth.

Desperation makes him rough, desperation makes her restless. Kagome gasps through her nose, fists her hand in his hair between his ears, pressing him as close as she can into the softness of her breast. She moans encouragement when his fangs scrape along her areola, grinds her hips in approval when he suckles the tender flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Their lovemaking is not normally so brutal, but then again, the situation is unique in itself. Neither of them can take much more. This must end soon.

She reaches between them as he switches breasts to wrap her hand around him, giggling when his growl escalates against her chest. "Come on," she pleads, nuzzling his ear, "come on."

A slight shift of their hips is all it takes for him to be sheathed inside her. A gasp, a groan, eyes sliding closed in ecstasy—finally—and suddenly Kagome is rising up above him, her hands braced against his chest as she begins riding him with fervour. "Inuyasha." She says his name like a prayer. For his part, Inuyasha lets his hands fall to her hips, allowing his gaze to drift between the sight of her breasts bouncing in rhythm and the sight of where they are joined, his cock sliding in and out of her wetly. He struggles to breathe evenly.

Kagome gazes down at her hanyou through her eyelashes, rolling her hips to bring him as deep as she can; he is hot and thick inside her, and she can tell by the way his jaw is locked so tightly that he won't last long. Which is fine, because neither will she. They have both managed to bring each other to the brink. For now she watches him watch her and bathes in the glow of his fascination. It is rare for her to take control like this—he doesn't usually give her the opportunity—and she relishes it, letting her head fall back to expose the smooth column of her neck.

It is almost too much for him. With her back arched, breasts thrust forward, strong thighs flexing to raise herself and then slam back down over him, he very nearly flips them so he can fuck her as he wants to: fast and merciless, until the shape of her body has been imprinted into the soil. But he waits, knowing he will get what he wants soon enough. For now, he grips her hips and drives himself into her, trying to think of anything that will distract him from the hot, tight heat of her encircling him, trying to last until she cracks.

He doesn't have to wait long. Soon enough her rhythm has faltered, her hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders, her breaths breaking on gasps of pleasure and need. So close, she's so close, and it feels almost too good, her body is on fire, sweat trailing tiny rivulets along her chest and back and tummy, the edge is right there and the angle is perfect but she can't reach it

"Damn," she whimpers, eyes squeezed shut in the failing effort to hit that sweet spot. It would have been inaudible… to anyone but Inuyasha.

It is his cue.

Kagome's eyes snap open when he leans up suddenly, heart missing a beat when she sees the determination in his lust-darkened eyes. "Need some help?" Before she can respond, he has hooked his arms under her thighs and lifted her off him to lie back down again, dragging her up and over his body.

She is too startled to realize what is happening when her knees hit the ground on either side of his head, too preoccupied with regaining her balance. Realization sets in, however, when she feels his claws caress the tops of her thighs. Oh. "Inu—"

Too late. His hands lock over her thighs to pull her down, burying his face in the heat of her. It is all she can do not to cry out loudly enough to wake the village when she's hit with the full sensation of his tongue against her clit, all she can do to keep herself upright as her legs begin to tremble with the force of an orgasm that hasn't even happened yet. Her fingers clutch at his hair to bring him closer. "Please," she moans brokenly, her toes curling in ecstasy as his tongue delves inside her, around her, dragging from clit to entrance to clit again before he tightens his lips around the bundle and sucks. It's all she needs.

Golden eyes drift open to watch her. Kagome's whole body is locked solid above him as she comes, head tilted back, hips grinding desperately to keep the friction of his tongue against her clit while she rides it out. He has no intention of disappointing her. Ten, twenty seconds pass before her grip relaxes. When her head falls forward, damp tendrils of hair cascading in a curtain around her face, he cannot stop his grin at the sight of her dazed expression. "Good?"

"Hn." She's still trembling.

She collapses limply when Inuyasha flips them, crawling up her body and trailing kisses as he goes. "Love you," she mumbles when he reaches her lips, tasting herself on them. She smiles when he stops her from wrapping her legs around his waist to hook them over his elbows instead, spreading her wide so that he can slide himself inside her with ease. A moment passes in which he nuzzles the side of her neck affectionately. He does not need to respond verbally.

And then, finally, he fucks her.

Braced above her, his eyes locked on hers, Inuyasha drives into her again and again and again, the wet slapping of flesh echoing around them. He is a young god of fire and lust; with the sun now fully in the sky, the light glows through his hair like a halo, his irises burning bright and hot as molten gold. Kagome cannot look away. With her hands wrapped around his wrists, she watches him, feeling her chest swell with love and pride at the way he breathes her name, the corners of his mouth turning down in a grimace of pleasure as he tries to hold it, tries to stop the pace of his thrusts from growing frantic, but it's too much and he's waited too long, and as soon as she reaches up to caress his cheek and whisper, "Now, for me," he breaks.

She clutches his head to her chest as he snarls his release, surging against her several more times as she milks him, and she encourages his bliss by whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

They remain like this for a long time. Still inside her, with his head pillowed against her breasts, Inuyasha thinks he'd be quite content to spend the day like this, but he knows this cannot be. It won't be long before she must go to Kaede, and he has already committed himself to attending Miroku in an exorcism.

An ear perks as he hears Kagome draw a breath. "We… we've never…"

He glances up at her. She's staring at the blue sky above them, an arm thrown across her forehead, lips working to find the right words. "It's never been so intense."

"Was it bad?" Trepidation jolts through him, but he's relieved to see her smile.

"Not at all." There's an undercurrent to her voice that has him stirring within her. "Just new."

True. Though the past ten months have seen enormous evolution in their lovemaking—what started off as soft and cautious quickly developed into something much more open and exploratory—they have never joined so openly or with so much desperation. For his part, Inuyasha thinks he could certainly get used to it. "I'm not complaining if you're not."

She laughs and flicks his ear. "Did I sound like I was complaining?"

Silence. When she glances down at him and sees the look in his eye, it is Kagome's turn to realize that she has walked into a trap.


It's the silence that wakes him.

Inuyasha sighs in the darkness. He is alone. Dressing quickly, he leaves the hut as pale tendrils of light finger their way through the night sky, highlighting the great height of the Goshinboku in the distance. It takes him only a minute or two to arrive at its base, finding what he's looking for nestled in the same spot amongst the great roots.

Kagome blinks up at him when he wakes her, her eyes filmy with sleep. "Sorry. I've done it again, haven't I?"

"Wench. Did you dream of your family again?"

Familiar pangs of lust stir within him as she turns and, as it did the last time, the suikan falls open to expose her naked flesh. But the sight of her belly, its gentle swell a reminder that he must be careful, that things are different now, tempers his desire. He meets her gaze as she smiles at him, and he swears her eyes are more full of light than the sun itself.

"Why would I dream of my family when I have them right here?"

He smiles one of those rare, genuine Inuyasha smiles and she pulls him to her. Dawn breaks over a new day as he makes love to his wife in sweet silence, and afterwards, as the sun rises over them, they sleep, cradled in the nest of the Goshinboku's life-giving roots.