This fic was my entry into iyfic contest, a livejournal community, in its thirty-third week running. The theme was "the other side," and my submission took first place. A thank you goes out to all who voted.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inu-Yasha.

Divergence

As a child, it was his human nature that bound him to his mother, that kept the two within touching distance even when they were a village's length apart. It made him love to hold her, hate to cry, and love once again when she soothed the tears away.

But it was the youkai in him that derived pleasure from digging his claws into her back as he wept, enjoyed the shiver that quaked through her like a sob when she felt the pain, and, much later, when he was alone, it was the demon that liked it when he licked his fingers clean.

And yet, when both man and beast turned against him and his mother's pyre burned like a sun about to collapse, the hanyou was the one that persuaded him to run away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

At fifteen, it was his demon half that snarled at the thought of "the jewel." The youkai was the one who sought for it, as well as the one who attacked the miko that protected it.

But it was the human that took offense and interest at the well-aimed arrow embedded in his arm, the one whose curiosity got the better of him when it came to the priestess. The human found out her name—Kikyo—while the youkai learned its—Shikon no Tama.

And yet, when the loves of his—their—life burned bright in their simultaneous cremations, the hanyou was the one that felt betrayed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When he was sixty-five-but-not, it was the youkai that reached up with glittering nails to pull the arrow from his breast, just as he was the one who whinnied when it wouldn't budge. It was the half of him that saw the non-miko and clenched his fist, wishing with all his might that the seal would break so he could snap that pretty little neck of hers in half.

But it was the ningen that refrained from succumbing to bloody vengeance and instead protected the girl—and the jewel that his opposite lusted after so. It was the human whose heart sped when he saw her, that kept his hands off her throat and followed her across the countryside like a dog on a leash.

And yet, when he watched her at night and listened to the roar of the campfire, glancing at the jewel bright pink in the hollow of her throat, the hanyou was the one that was smitten.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

At the end of a quest for revenge and peace, it was the man in him that clutched the Shikon no Tama and gasped when it did not turn black in his grip. It was the he who watched an old love crumble into dirt and stolen souls and, later, embraced her replacement-of-sorts and whispered a wish.

And there was neither youkai nor hanyou to obscure his thinking, to breathe thoughts not his own into his ear in order to tempt him from the straightest, smoothest path.

There was only a black-haired boy turned adult, and though only one consciousness occupied his mind, he was not alone, for rationality and trust always stood by his side in a green outfit.

And yet, even this was more than enough.

End fic.

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