A/N: yeah, it's moderately plotless. Mostly methodical. I was trying to imagine what it would be like from Inuyasha's point of view mostly, for him to go through the terror of not knowing himself. But I always thought he'd come back to Kagome in the end :)
A/N: Opening lines are from Maya Angelou's "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings"
Primal
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
And floats downstream till the current ends
He dips his wings in the orange sunrays
And dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
Can barely see through his bars of rage
His feet are clipped, and his wings are tied
So he opens his throat to sing
.
.
.
Awake, and afraid—
A red-eyed thing howls in the night. He registers only the fear, the raw naked creeping along his flesh, the way his senses are heightened and his mind dulled—instinct reigning supreme. He is all skin and claws and white hair and sharp, sharp teeth in a grimacing mouth; blood so thick it is a stark black cloak covers him.
.
Fever—
Cornered on all sides by youkai, youkai sent to catch and kill and eat him, and he's lost it, lost himself completely to the fear. Oh, the way he moves, as if on fire, as if this was it—this! Only this! This battle, this moment, this last breath before he dies—
And the enemies are gone. Thousands of youkai, the pressing pulsing putrid things that had gathered like disease to him, gone. Dead. Exploded, into miniscule bits of flesh and blood.
.
"Inuyasha?"—
His ears perk up, recognizes his name on female lips, red, parted, puffy, pretty female lips set in a pale face below terrified eyes. Two golden shots absorbed in red turn her way, and he sees the way she trembles a little in his empty stare. She is standing in big, heavy globs of gore, but he notices most the way she smells.
There, neatly tucked in amongst the stench of youkai innards, the wavering scent of someone familiar to him—
And the creature realizes he knows no one save his fear in this world.
.
He crawls on all fours to her, like an animal, like a beast, through the mess he's made of the enemies—the threats, the beasts, the ones to be feared—and she stands still while he makes his way. When he reaches her, he tips his nose upward, and ah:
There, there it is—some semblance of a life he barely remembers, something warm on his face and calming to his nerves. This is no one to fear, he decides as he stands. Nothing in him screams in revulsion toward this creature; rather, a drive, an urge, an instinct tells him that he is bound to this creature in ways stronger than fear can describe.
.
"Inuyasha? Do you know me?"—
And she cups a dry hand over his warm cheek.
.
He knows only his name on her lips, though once she says it he cannot remember the word. He only knows the familiarity of her tone, the way her body is posed, as if she could leap toward him at any moment—and he is not afraid.
Then he leaps for her.
.
The female struggles a little, but his iron strength keeps her arms down and her body under his control. He presses his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply, trying to decipher exactly what she means, why he knows her when he knows not even himself.
.
Oh, oh, my—
Mate. My mate. My own. Mine.
.
And relief pools inside of him, when he discovers that he has an anchor in this world.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
She's his, his to own and to protect and to suffer alongside. To keep his fear at bay.
.
And immediately, as only natural, he lifts her into his arms—though she still pushes against him a little, and he growls, a deep guttural nose that keeps her silent, though she's watching him warily. He does not understand why, but he keeps doggedly on, fighting the twinge of confusion in his chest because this is it, this is all that matters, this is all he knows.
.
He steals her into the night.
She's a soft little thing in his arms, as quiet and ruffled as a bird, but she conforms to his hold. He makes no noise to her, cannot speak, does not know that she requires his voice. But he does keep glancing down at the bundle in his arms, and each time he does, he remembers that he is not alone.
.
Strip—
She fights him when they reach the river, but he continues on.
"Sit, boy!" she cries, but he doesn't understand, the words don't reach him, the spell doesn't work.
He pushes her against the ground, tangles himself up in her body, ignoring her pleas, her tiny fists, and strips her clean. He cannot bear the stench of other youkai's blood coating her, the way he can barely find her in the midst of those smells. He claws through her white top and green skirt, shreds them to ribbons, buries them.
She shivers a little in the cold, but he does it anyway, mechanically, without hesitation.
.
Splash!—
He throws her into the river and follows suit. She gasps and tries to get out, but he keeps her head down, scratches a little at her hair and back, scrubs the remaining blood off the two of them. She pushes against his chest, but he holds firmly to her hips, even clawing a little into her skin when she still fights. He growls angrily a couple of times when she tries to get away, and finally succeeds in frightening her into staying when he clamps his teeth around her shoulder once or twice.
He drags her out of the river, shakes her dry, and she's frazzled and afraid, but clean. He shakes off himself, then wraps her in the fire rat robe and takes her home in the early morning hours.
.
In dimness of the cave, he studies her as if he were seeing her for the first time.
She's splendid, the way she's lying curled on her side. Now, she's white against the gloom of the early morning, with hair that ruffles down her back like an angel's wings.
His, his mate—she's wonderful, and fine, and he knows she holds something special inside of her. But in his present state, he cannot pinpoint exactly what the nature of the force is, so he just appreciates her physical beauty while she lays silent and sleeping.
.
But when she wakes, she gasps, and tries to flee. And when she bolts for the mouth of the cave, he feels the fear rushing in, flooding, choking, him down, and he really needs to just grab her, throw her to the floor, and make her submit, make her realize, make her know.
Mate—and the word is like a wish being sent to Heaven.
.
He growls, takes off, locks her down. She cries out, and the sound wounds him.
In some vague corner of his diluted mind, he has to question: Fear? Mate fears?
He cannot understand the concept that she should be afraid of him; are they not bound already together in a way stronger than lovers, than marriage, than destiny and death?
When he takes her arms a little roughly and corners her torso on the ground, she stills. Her eyes are wide, glassy. Her mouth open just a little bit. Body stretched open beneath him, scent trembling beneath his nostrils. When he hesitates, that sweet pair of lips whispers hopefully,
"Inuyasha?"
And his name on her tongue makes him want to do everything for her.
He picks them both off the ground, makes his way closer to the fire in the belly of the cave, and sets her down between his legs. He wraps his arms around her waist, locks her in place, and she cannot leave.
.
Never leave—
He leans gingerly down, somehow knowing through the muddiness of his memory that she is something delicate, inexperienced. He puts his nose gently at the base of her neck, and he cannot help the feral grin when her skin rises in goosebumps. He smells a whiff on her, the smell of virginity. His entire being aches for her, then. A low growl grumbles from his chest, and she trembles a little bit, in a good way. Her face is flushing and warm, and he touches her cheek with his own to make sure she is not ill or uncomfortable. Inside him, he knows he needs to do everything within his power to ensure her safety and happiness. He owes that to her, in a way he owes nothing to anyone else.
.
"Inuyasha, are you alright?" she asks.
Her voice is so small and sweet, and although he does not understand her, he looks at her in question, trying to respond in some manner. He likes the way she begins every sentence with his name.
She turns slowly to face him, keeping her arms crossed over her chest. Her secretiveness disappoints him, but he focuses so hard on her words that he gets a migraine.
"Inuyasha?" and she hesitates, then, "I don't know if you can hear me, but thank you. Thank you for saving me. I only went to find firewood, and I don't know, they just came so fast for me, all I could do was scream for help and I was so scared and I was afraid I'd be lost to you—"
She was getting upset; tears were standing in her eyes, and she wasn't able to look at him. He felt deeply uncomfortable at the sight of her so distraught. He reaches out, gathers her to him, and she quiets, just sobbing into his shoulder. He takes off his fire rat shirt and wraps it around the two of them. She snuggles a little closer, though she's naked and he's nearly so.
.
Desire—
Hard, fast, ferocious. It steals over him like a plague, and he wonders how she cannot smell his arousal in the air. But she just keeps holding him like a little girl, and he holds her—
But not for too long.
Suddenly, he's shoving her down onto the cave floor, burying his face in between her breasts, and she's crying out, "Inuyasha! No—" but he doesn't hear because he can't hear because the only thing is this and if not this then nothing then fear.
.
—Until he smells her fear.
Mate?
.
She's crying, and she's terrified, and she's saying, "I'm sorry, Inuyasha, I can't, I just can't—"
And he sees the way she curls away from him, because it's all she can do; though he doesn't understand why she should be afraid of him because they're mates, he stops. Pulls away, his ears clasped to his head in shame, hot, fast, ferocious shame.
He feels the rage bubbling inside, his sight going red, and something different but similar to the way he felt, facing the youkai hours before, comes over him. He wants to inflict harm upon his mate, make her want him until she's hoarse, but he knows—he knows—this is different. This is mate. He needs something else entirely now, to make her come to him. He feels the immensity of his task, and the fear springs to his eyes in tiny droplets. He wills everything within him to speak.
.
"Mate"—
The word drops into the air, unclear, more like a growl, or a grovel.
She pauses, looks at him, mouth slightly ajar. In her eyes is something strange and light—hopeful.
.
"Inuyasha? Are you back?" she moves a little closer to him, but not close enough—
He tries again, this time, his face coloring a little and his veins standing out from his neck with the effort. Her name rises to his lips like a secret.
"Mate—Kagome."
.
She cries, again. This was not what he'd wanted. But this time, she's crying and laughing and smiling with her pretty pink lips, and she approaches him with her arms open for an embrace, and she's saying, "Oh, I'm so glad. I'm so glad, Inuyasha!" She throws her white body around him, so tightly that he's a little frightened of her now, and she pulls away again, and her face is so lovely and so bright and beautiful, and she says, "Say it again, please. Ka-go-me."
.
He swallows, and sings her name back.
"Mate, Kagome."
.
She's thrilled, and she's so happy that he can barely keep her from bouncing up and down, causing to tidy young body to gyrate against him, and he's thinking—Kagome, Kagome, Kagome! He's flushing like a ten-year-old boy, not a monster, not a creature, not a thing,
And the streaks of blue and purple on his face recede, and the red in his eyes whiten, and the wildness in his body relaxes.
"Kagome?" he touches his eyes with his fingertips and feels the wetness in them. She notices the change in his voice, the way the primitiveness in his face has disappeared. Now tears are spilling from his face in a way that only small children cry, and Inuyasha is staring at her, completely lost in shock.
"You're back," she says, but he's still staring.
"I was a monster," he murmurs, and his voice is smooth and normal, but terribly sad, infinitely sad.
"Never," she tells him, and touches his lips. Her eyes are lovely, the recognizable orbs he's lived his life by for months now. "You conquered your cage. You spoke. You remembered me. We never have to fear again."
And he knows that she is right. Forever and onward, he knows now what he has to face, that he will always, to matter how close to the brink of madness he comes, he will return to her. Inuyasha's last battle will only always be with himself, and he's already won, for her.
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A/N: Yay for writing late-night angst! maybe a little OOC. I tried realll hard to stay in character, but I may not have succeed 100%. Let me know how I did. Review, folks :)