Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.
Battle
The day was perfect; comfortably warm, with a brilliant blue sky. Kohaku rode Kirara as she ran through the sky. Kohaku watched the scenery below, fascinated, having never really looked down before.
A shadow fell across them; the youkai's only mistake. Kirara reacted, swerving and diving in a wild, corkscrew motion. Unprepared, Kohaku yelled as he was flung off her back.
Existence became stroboscopic. Kohaku saw a massive feathered body plunging down. Two sets of long talons lashed out. One set missed. The other did not. Kirara howled.
"No!" Horror, terror, seized his thoughts. But, the last bitter year hadn't been for naught: his body reacted, as it would not have, before his first battle. Without conscious thought, Kohaku pulled his weapon free, and flung the scythe. The long chain struck first, against the leg, sending the scythe into an arc. Twice around the chain wrapped before the point of weapon struck home. The youkai shrieked, flight faltering as Kohaku's weight came on the chain.
He lunged upward, not letting himself think. He avoided the clenching talons, using the last bit of chain and his arms to swing in an arch that ended with his legs locked around the bird's. Grabbing the handle of the scythe, he pulled it free, to bury it again halfway up the avian's side.
The youkai screeched again, veering wildly. Kohaku clung to handle with all his strength as he grabbed for a hold with his free hand. The wind buffeted him as the youkai strove to shake him free, while also trying to turn its head enough to catch him with its thick teeth. Grimly, Kohaku pulled out the scythe and aimed it higher, intending to climb to the bird's back.
He barely missed decapitation as the unexpected half of the youkai swiped at him with clawed hands. "Stinking human!" The bird of paradise's humanoid half screeched at him. "You die!"
Kohaku's eyes narrowed, the battle-trained part of his mind rapidly calculating. The angle was bad: if he missed, the youkai would have a decent chance of pulling the weapon from him. But his target couldn't dodge. Wait for the best moment—
The bird shrieked and jolted sideways as a blur of black-trimmed cream slammed into it, massive fangs sinking into the juncture of head and neck. Kohaku lost his grasp on the feathers. Pulling his scythe free, he let himself fall, twisting to face downwards. "Kirara!"
She appeared beneath him, blood flying from her shoulder and side. He landed as lightly as he could, trying to balance himself without exerting pressure on her wounded side. From the corner of his eye, he noted the tumbling body of the dead youkai. "Thanks, Kirara!" he cried. "Go to ground—I'll tend your wounds!" He kept his attention focused widely as she headed down, ignoring the boy in him that wanted to shake and break into tears at his—their—close call. They'd survived.
And learned.
They would continue to survive.
Author's Note: This was written for the LiveJournal community ib4y, and posted on May 9th, 2011. It took third place.