I do not own InuYasha or any of the characters created by Rumiko Takahashi

One Perfect Day

InuYasha was still filled with the battle excitement as he put away his sword. "Stupid oni."

Kagome walked up to him, rested a hand lightly on his arm. "You're all right?" she asked, giving him a soft smile.

His nostrils flared a little, taking in her scent tinged with excitement, a touch of fear. It was a rich perfume to him, more real somehow after a battle than at other times. He knew from experience how she reacted after a battle - first, honest concern, and the drive to take care of whatever needed to be, and then, after the excitement wore off, she would want to rest, an idea that didn't sound half bad to him at the moment. He put his hand over the aching place on his arm. It came away sticky and red, the result of a lucky blow when the oni had ambushed them.

"Keh," he said. His ear flicked at the sound of a bird landing nearby, but focused more on the woman in front of him who, although she had a smudge of brown on her cheek, and dirty knees on her hakama, was unhurt. "Yeah. Just the cut on my arm. It'll heal."

She looked up at him, studying his face, as if that would tell her something. "I need to look at that."

"Feh, woman, after all this time you should know I don't need you to do that." He watched her as she turned around to pick up her quiver and the arrows she had spilled when the oni struck.

"Doesn't mean I don't need to," she replied

He nodded, then bent down to help her put the contents of her travel bag back together, winching once as he reached out with his wounded arm. Her hand covered his then. "I saw a stream not far from here. Be a good place to stop. I think I might want to rest for a bit." Her scent was changing a bit as she thought about it, a bit more spicy.

InuYasha nodded. The pack filled, Kagome stood up, and he followed. Some things would never change. Oni would remain stupid. Fights were there to make him feel more alive. Kagome would always want to take care of him, and then want to rest. And as they rested, one thing usually led to another. He smiled as they walked, anticipating.

"Never change, world," he muttered. "What a perfect day."