CONVERGENCE OF OMEGAS

Hey guys 💕

I guess I should properly introduce myself!

I’m technically not brand new here — I made an account about a year ago. But AFF updated, and somehow I lost access to my old account (which is tragic because that’s where I read all my fanfics 😭). So I opened this new account a couple of days ago… and here we are.

This is actually my very first InuYasha fanfiction. Like… my very very very first one ever. Please be gentle with me 😂

I’ve written a few incomplete works before (you might see them on my profile), but this is the first time I’m really posting something seriously on AFF. I was looking around for InuYasha fanfiction here and on AO3, and I didn’t find as much as I expected. I don’t know why, because InuYasha deserves more love. So I decided… why not just write my own version?

So this story will only be posted here on AFF for now 💫

Also, I’m still figuring out the tagging system on AFF. If the tags look a little messy or I mix something up, please forgive me. I’m learning!

Anyway… I hope you enjoy my version of InuYasha. I’m really excited (and slightly nervous) to share it with you.

Thank you for giving it a chance 🖤

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The feudal era sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the winding dirt path that snaked through the dense forest. Leaves rustled softly underfoot, their crisp edges crunching like brittle bones as the small group made their way toward the next village rumored to hold a Shikon Jewel shard. The air was thick with the earthy scent of moss and damp soil, mingled with the faint, metallic tang of distant rain clouds gathering on the horizon. It was a world untouched by the rush of time, where demons lurked in the shadows and sacred jewels could shatter destinies— and where Naraku's dark influence spread like a creeping poison, his incarnations and schemes forcing travelers like them to stay ever vigilant.

Inuyasha led the way, his red fire-rat robe billowing slightly with each purposeful stride. His silver hair gleamed under the fading light, but his golden eyes were narrowed, sharp with an irritation that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. He gripped the hilt of Tessaiga at his side, fingers twitching as if eager for a fight that wasn't there. The half-demon's ears flicked at every minor sound—a bird's call, the snap of a twig—his senses heightened to an almost painful degree. He could feel it building inside him, that unwelcome warmth coiling low in his gut, threatening to unravel the careful facade he'd maintained for so long. Beneath his robe, the tight cloth bindings around his chest—wrapped meticulously each morning to flatten the modest swell of his omega breasts, larger than that human girl's but hidden from the world—chafed against his skin, a constant reminder of the secret he guarded with his life.

"Damn it, why's everyone so slow today?" Inuyasha growled, his voice rougher than usual, laced with a frustration that bordered on fury. He whirled around to glare at the others trailing behind him, his fangs peeking from beneath his lip. "Pick up the pace! We ain't got all day to dawdle like a bunch of lost pups."

Kagome Higurashi, the young priestess from the future, huffed as she adjusted the strap of her oversized yellow backpack. Her school uniform skirt swayed with her steps, a stark contrast to the ancient landscape around them. She shot Inuyasha a pointed look, her brown eyes flashing with exasperation. "Inuyasha, we've been walking since dawn! Not all of us have demon stamina, you know. And what's with the attitude? You've been snapping at everything since breakfast. If you don't cool it, I'll say the word."

The half-demon's cheeks flushed faintly, a heat he attributed to anger rather than the subtle shift in his body. He turned away quickly, masking the momentary vulnerability with a scoff, though the threat of her "sit" command made his neck itch where the rosary beads hung. "Attitude? You're the one complainin' about every little thing. If you can't keep up, maybe you should just 'sit' yourself back home."

Kagome's lips pursed, but she held her tongue, knowing better than to escalate. There was something off about him today—more than the usual gruffness. His scent, that familiar mix of pine resin, sharp iron from his bloodline, and the wild, untamed grass of open fields, seemed... heavier somehow. Thicker, like it was clinging to the air around him. She dismissed it as the aftermath of their last skirmish with one of Naraku's detached demons; Inuyasha always smelled a bit more potent after a fight, his youki flaring like a warning beacon.

Beside her, Miroku walked with his staff jingling softly, the rings clinking in rhythmic harmony. The monk's violet eyes sparkled with amusement as he glanced between the two. "Now, now, Inuyasha. There's no need to be so... fervent. Perhaps a moment of meditation would soothe your spirit?" His tone was light, but there was a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. Miroku's own alpha instincts picked up on the faint edge in the air, a pheromone trace that didn't quite align with Inuyasha's usual bravado. But he chalked it up to the half-demon's hybrid nature—unpredictable, always teetering on the edge of something feral.

Sango, riding atop her fire-cat demon Kirara, rolled her eyes at the exchange. Her boomerang Hiraikotsu was slung over her shoulder, ready as ever. "Men," she muttered under her breath, though her voice carried a fond edge. As a beta, she was largely immune to the subtler pulls of designation scents, but even she could sense the tension radiating from Inuyasha like heat from a forge. "If you're that worked up, Inuyasha, go scout ahead. We'll catch up."

Shippo, the young fox demon perched on Kagome's shoulder, stuck out his tongue at Inuyasha. "Yeah! You're being a big jerk today. What's got your tail in a twist?" The kit's green eyes widened innocently, oblivious to the deeper undercurrents. To him, Inuyasha was just the tough, overprotective alpha-type figure he'd always been—loud, brash, and quick to swing a fist.

Inuyasha's ears flattened against his head, a flicker of shame twisting in his chest that he quickly buried under another layer of aggression. He couldn't let them see—couldn't let anyone suspect. His omega status was a secret buried deeper than any grave, hidden behind walls of snarls and sword swings—and those damned bindings that kept his body from betraying him. The approaching full moon loomed like a curse, stirring his heat cycle into a slow, insidious build. Already, his body ached with the precursors: a restlessness that made his skin itch, a warmth that pooled unwelcome and insistent, pressing against the fabric that concealed his form. He'd masked it for years with herbs and sheer willpower, overcompensating with fights and fury to drown out the vulnerability. No one could know. Omegas were weak, targets—especially one like him, a half-breed already scorned by the world.

"Fine! I'll scout ahead. Try not to get yourselves killed while I'm gone," he barked, leaping into the trees with a burst of speed that scattered leaves in his wake. The group exchanged glances, shrugging off his outburst as typical Inuyasha behavior.

As the half-demon bounded through the canopy, the wind whipping through his hair, he allowed himself a moment of reprieve. Up here, away from prying eyes, he could feel the pull more acutely—the subtle throb in his wrist where the silver crescent mark lay hidden beneath his sleeve. It had appeared years ago, a soulmate brand that he'd dismissed as a trick of his mixed blood. But lately, it pulsed with increasing insistence, syncing with the moon's waxing phase. And there was another, newer one on his collarbone—a swirling storm pattern that had ignited upon meeting that wolf bastard Koga. He growled low in his throat, shoving the thoughts away. Bonds? Marks? Not for him. He was a fighter, not some simpering omega waiting to be claimed.

Miles away, in the shadowed depths of a mist-shrouded mountain pass, Sesshomaru moved like a ghost through the underbrush. The demon lord's white kimono blended seamlessly with the fog, his long silver hair trailing like a banner of moonlight. His golden eyes, cold and unyielding, scanned the terrain for any sign of Naraku—the spider hanyou whose miasma poisoned the land and whose ambitions grew ever more insidious. Sesshomaru's pursuit was relentless, driven by a disdain for the corrupted creature that dared to challenge the natural order.

But today, his focus wavered, pulled inward by a familiar ache. On the palm of his hand, concealed beneath his armored gauntlet, the silver crescent mark throbbed—a subtle rhythm that had grown more frequent, more demanding. It had been there since the day of Inuyasha's birth, a soulmate tie he'd suppressed for decades, viewing it as an unwelcome tether to his half-brother's chaotic existence. Alphas of his sovereign rank did not yield to such whims; they dominated, protected from afar if necessary. Yet, as the full moon approached, the mark's pulse mirrored something deeper: the scent of pine and iron carried faintly on the wind, laced with an undercurrent of wild grass that spoke of approaching vulnerability.

Sesshomaru's lips thinned into a line, his claws flexing involuntarily. He knew what it meant—Inuyasha's heat was nearing, the omega instincts his brother so desperately hid bubbling to the surface. The demon lord had always been aware, his superior senses piercing through the half-demon's defenses long ago. But he said nothing, did nothing. To acknowledge it would be to claim responsibility, to drag Inuyasha into a world of demonic politics and rivalries he was ill-prepared for. Still, the mark's insistence gnawed at him, a silent demand for action.

A low growl escaped his throat, directed at no one but the wind. Naraku could wait a moment longer. For now, the pull of blood and bond tugged him southward, toward the path where his brother's group traveled unaware.

Back with the others, the group crested a small hill, the village coming into view as twilight began to settle. Kagome sighed, rubbing her sore feet. "I hope there's an inn with hot springs. I could use a bath."

Miroku smiled slyly. "An excellent idea, Kagome. Perhaps we could share—"

Sango's elbow connected with his side, eliciting a pained grunt. "Not a chance, monk."

Shippo giggled from Kagome's shoulder, the lighthearted moment easing the earlier tension. None of them noticed the subtle shift in the air, the way Inuyasha's lingering scent seemed to cling a bit longer, hinting at secrets yet to unfold.

As night fell, the stars emerged like scattered jewels, and the moon began its slow ascent, waxing toward fullness. The world held its breath, unaware of the rifts that would soon tear through time and fate.