Disclaimer: This one-shot is based on 'Inuyasha', owned by Rumiko Takahashi. No copyright infringement intended or implied.

Dance

He wanted to search Kikyo out. He wanted to confront her and smell if she had the strange reaction to him again. He wanted to find out if she would talk to him or run away. He wanted to know whether she had changed her mind about being a friend.

He didn't want to search her out. He didn't want to discover that her answer was no. He didn't want--he wasn't sure what he didn't want. It was just...something. Something to do with his reaction to her.

He teetered between searching and not searching, in between eating, sleeping, and chasing an obstreperous pair of kitsune out of his territory. His indecision lasted until he caught a strong whiff of burning incense on the early-morning breeze. An incense that generally came from that building where she kept the Shikon no Tama, and which often lingered in her clothing. But, the whiff was more intense than it could possibly have been from the shrine, and it was mingled with multiple human scents, and the faint sound of drums. Curiosity got the better of him, and Inuyasha ran through the trees, using his nose and ears to seek out the location of this puzzle.

Soon enough, he determined that the incense was coming from several dry land fields. Warily, Inuyasha moved silently through the branches. The drumming was increasing in tempo, setting his nerves on edge. Not far from the edge of the trees, he paused, ears twitching and trying to flatten. He should just leave; he told himself. Whatever was going on, the villagers certainly would not want to see him. Especially if it were some kind of religious thing going on. Just because he couldn't remember another time with this combination of incense and drumming--

A voice cried out, on a high, single note. Inuyasha's ears snapped forward as the drumming abruptly died. Kikyo! Was she hurt--no, he realized, as the note changed. She was singing. He listened. She was calling names--god-names, he thought. Now he really knew he should leave. No youkai-blood would be tolerated at a human religious ceremony. He shifted his weight, intending to turn and leave--

Come to me, come as you will. Come.

Inuyasha froze as a turn of phrase, a snip of melody, shivered in sudden resonance with memory. Mother! Her voice--he remembered. Nights when he couldn't sleep, nights when he was vulnerable, scared, human: she would sing. A song of protection, of comfort. A song for him, sung quietly in the security of their shared room. His song.

Inuyasha slid forward, unable to resist, moving silently more from instinct and habit than from conscious effort. Crouching on a branch, he stared down at the fields spread out below him.

The fields were furrowed, but where there should have been a fuzz of green, was a barely visible smudge of black against the recently turned soil. The edges of the fields, which should have been a riot of untended, half-wild plants, were lined with dead, crumpled leaves and broken stems. At each corner of the fields, a man stood holding a tall, smoking, flameless torch, from which the smell of incense streamed. More men were standing by drums sitting on crude stands of bamboo, beaters in hand. The rest of the villages were scattered along the rutted path, watching. Watching her.

Inuyasha stared, caught. Kikyo was dancing as well as singing, moving slowly. As she turned, he saw a fan in her hand, moving in complicated gestures that matched her singing. She was wearing a more elaborately embroidered version of her usual top.

Power flared. Not the Shikon's power, and not entirely her own. She was calling on the gods of the soil and of fertility and healing, begging for their power, asking for the strength to purify and heal the land. The power rose, circling around her, strengthening in half-seen shimmers of white and gold and green. It reached out to the torches, arching downward back to the ground, flowing back towards her through the soil. Her fan seemed to direct the currents of power as it dipped and rose, sending it to all parts of the fields and even a bit beyond, into the edges of the trees, wherever the darkened, limp leaves indicated the passage of the ice youkai from the two days prior.

Including the tree Inuyasha was crouching in. He gasped, frozen, as the power washed over him.

It was beautiful. Gold and green and white, the swirling magic of life and growth and purification.

He was human, his soul drinking it in, shivering in ecstasy under the gods-touched power of human magic.

He was youkai, shadowed and inimical, wailing in terror as the magic dissolved him.

Beaters slammed against the drums. A shout rose from every villager's throat. The magic crested, flashed, and fell to earth.

As did a black-haired, red-garbed figure.

Kikyo fell to her knees, panting, as the power left her. She had never done this variation of the sacred dance before, except in the separate practice of moves and verses. The normal dances were not half as draining.

"Lady Kikyo?"

She looked up as the headman touched her shoulder, and accepted the bamboo container of water. Draining it, she gave it back, before accepting his help to stand up. "A success?" he asked.

Her miko senses were still wide open; she did not need to concentrate. "The jyaki from ice-youkai attack is gone," she assured him. "The seeds that had sprouted are dead, but it's safe to replant."

He nodded. "We'll be a bit short until harvest, but by the gods' grace, we'll be fine." His hand slipped under her elbow to support her.

"Hoi!" came a shout. "What's that?"

"Looks like a body."

"Heh--those clothes--is it that hanyo that's been lurking around--?"

"Thought his hair was white?"

Kikyo's head snapped around, eyes scanning the edge of the cleared area. Without thinking, she broke into a run. "Stay back!" she called out, before stumbling in the loose dirt of the field. She staggered, recovered, and continued to run, her fatigue forgotten in the horrified dismay in her heart. She could not sense his youki. But she could remember, from within the trance of her dance, the clear perception of a shadowed source of power. She had been in trance far too deep to recognize the uniqueness of that shadow, and too caught within the framework of the elaborate ritual dance to do anything about it, if she had recognized it. The ritual had been intended to purify and banish the remnants of power from the previous youkai attack. If he had been caught within the perimeter of the spell--

Breathless, Kikyo slid to her knees beside the crumpled form. The clothes were familiar--but the long hair was black. Carefully, she grasped his shoulder and pulled him onto his back. It was definitely Inuyasha, despite the differences. He was alive, she determined, touching his neck and noticing the rise and fall of his chest. But changed--why?

Of course, she realized a moment later, searching her memory for everything she knew about hanyos. The ritual had been intended to purify all traces of youki and jyaki from the fields and surrounding area: his youkai had been purified, and he had become human. All hanyos had monthly intervals where they lost their youkai blood temporarily. But was this purification temporary or permanent?

A thought crossed her mind--wouldn't it solve a problem, if the purification were permanent?

She slapped the thought away angrily. How could she want such a thing for Inuyasha, forced on him without his consent?

Besides, it wouldn't solve anything--he was still very handsome.

He stirred, flinging up a hand to guard his eyes. "Mama?" he whimpered. "Why's it so bright? Why'm I still human?" His voice was tiny, sounding young, and very frightened.

"Inuyasha?" She leaned over, grasping his hand. "Inuyasha..."

His clawless hand grabbed hers tightly, but without the crushing grip he should have been able to exert. Dark gray eyes flicked open, looked around, then focused on her face. She was surprised to see the nonhuman shape of his pupils.

"Kikyo?" he breathed, staring at her.

"Yes," she answered. "Inuyasha, why did you come here? Didn't you notice the power building? I was doing a purification dance--you were caught in the spell. Your youkai's gone."

His eyes were glazed. "You were ... so beautiful," he whispered, seemingly taking no note of her statement. "Your voice ... mama ... sang like that ... the lights ... so beautiful..."

Without warning, his body jerked. Kikyo flinched as she felt the powerful pulse of youki. Inuyasha writhed onto his side, eyes snapping shut in a grimace of pain. Youki pulsed again, and Kikyo watched with caught breath as Inuyasha changed. His visible ear gained a point, then started sliding up his skull. Harsh, broken pants became half growls, as four of the bared teeth elongated into fangs. Light washed across the black hair in waves, and braced, splayed fingers almost visibly lengthened along with nails that grew into claws. The pulsing ceased, and hanyo Inuyasha lay before her, panting, his face tight with pain.

Only a moment, however. The next moment, he was up in the tree, swearing.

"Inuyasha!"

The swearing stopped. "Please come back down."

After a brief pause, he dropped back, landing in a squatting position. He gave her a wary look, shoulders tense, claws digging into the ground. "What?"

"You're well?"

He snorted. "Course I am!"

"You--looked human."

He looked away, ears going half-flat. "So?"

"I'm sorry you were caught in the purification. Why didn't you stay away? Surely, you sensed the power building?"

His shoulders hunched further. "I was just wondering why you were stinking up the countryside," he muttered.

"The ice youkai that attacked us destroyed the crops in these fields," she responded. "I needed to purify the fields before replanting, and ask that the soil's fertility be restored." After a moment, she added. "It's more complicated than simply purifying a youkai--that's why the ritual dance."

"Keh."

Kikyo sighed, realizing that this was not the time to attempt prying any answers from a truculent hanyo. "I should be getting back to the villagers," she said. "I'll see you later?" She winced inside as she heard the hopeful question.

"Feh." The golden eyes flicked in her direction for a moment, and then he was a flash of red leaping upwards. Kikyo waited a moment before pushing herself up. Turning around, she found herself the focus of attention of many pairs of eyes. Most were watching from some distance away, but a handful of young men were much closer, their faces alive with curiosity.

"Was that the Inuyasha?" asked young Kenichi. "Why did his hair go from black to white?"

"That was Inuyasha," she acknowledged. "Being hanyo, he was temporarily affected by the spell."

"You looked pretty concerned there, running across the field," mused one of the older men, his expression sly. "Good friend of yours?"

She gave him her coldest miko expression. "Inuyasha has been willing to help me fight youkai and protect this village. He is--useful."

Her gaze intimidated him. "Er, just curious."

She turned her gaze from him and started walking towards the path that would lead back to the village, none of her apprehension, and growing anger showing on her face. Stupid hanyo! she thought. Stupid of him, to let his curiosity overcome his sense of caution. And stupid miko, forgetting herself, running across the field as if she were concerned about a mere hanyo. Of course she was, but to let everyone in the village see it!

They were both so stupid!

He'd called her beautiful, recalled the woman inside.

Even in her thoughts, she didn't swear.

It was annoying, to realize that her search to quash her unwanted attraction would take longer than she realized.

He was handsome as a human, too.

Author's Note:This one-shot was originally published on The Wilted Rose community on LiveJournal, for the prompt 'Search'. It was originally posted May 30, 2009. It won the contest.