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Hunter	By : TheKaytla Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 5542 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the series Inuyasha, nor its characters.They are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Hunter
- 1
Hunter

Silence hung in the darkened forest, so thick and oppressive it was almost tangible. Only the barest of winds wound through the trees, lacking the strength even to disturb the leaves, passing through as quietly as it arrived. Not even nocturnal foragers disturbed the undergrowth, choosing instead to stay hidden and safe in their burrows until the danger had passed.
Sesshomaru paid it all no heed. The unnatural quiet did not speak to his hidden fears and arouse anxiety, and nor did anything that lurked in the darkness pose any threat to his wellbeing. The thing from which all manner of base creatures hid was none other than himself, the predator stalking within their midst.
His prey was not something so small and insignificant. The scent of the hanyou spider lingered in the area, and it was this that drew him here. That of another hated hanyou also stained the forest, but Inuyasha’s youki was outside his senses. Doubtless Inuyasha had followed the trail here and moved on already, but this did not deter Sesshomaru.
While it was clear that Naraku was long gone, he had spent time in these woods all the same. The possibility that he had left behind some hint as to his next move was too important to simply ignore, unlikely as it seemed. There was also the chance this place had some significance to his plans. Divining such significance would prove invaluable to predicting the spider’s future movements.
Such an insight was beyond his brother’s direct and active way of dealing with problems. The finer aspects of hunting were beyond him, as was the concept of patience when stalking an enemy. There were advantages to simply observing what one’s adversary did and letting him reveal his own patterns and the purpose of his actions.
The daiyoukai paused in a clearing that seemed to be where Naraku’s odour was most powerful. The spider had spent some time in this place. Resting while he calculated his next move? Or was there something here that wasn’t immediately apparent?
Sesshomaru’s eyes narrowed as he turned in a slow, measured full circle, wishing absently for more light. His eyes could pierce the darkness in ways far superior to mortals, but even he needed at least some natural illumination to work with. Tonight was the new moon and the only light shining down from the heavens was the insufficient amount supplied by the stars. Without the moon, it was all but impossible to see clearly.
And he could not linger here. If Inuyasha had gone on ahead, there was the chance the hanyou would catch Naraku before he himself could. He would allow no other to take revenge on that foul spider. Naraku’s life would be torn to shreds with his own claws, he swore it.
There was nothing else to be done. With the poor light, he would be able to find nothing here. He had to carry on moving after Naraku.
Though it galled him to follow his brother’s trail, he was left with no choice. It was fresher and doubtless heading in the same direction as their mutual enemy. The hanyou was evidently more attune to the baser, more instinctive side of their heritage for, once he had Naraku’s scent, he would not stop chasing it until he either found his quarry or the trail ended.
A stubborn dog unwilling to let go of its bone, but a useful one under the circumstances.
Sesshomaru sprinted through the trees, passing by all manner of wildlife in a blur, there and gone before they had time to react or even fully notice his presence. It was a fast way to travel, but not the one he preferred. However, he could not break down his form into pure youki and race across the skies until Inuyasha was found and his youki could be tracked. As it was, it would be impossible to follow his scent while travelling through the air.
A splash brought the daiyoukai short, transitioning from running to standing so seamlessly, it would have seemed that he simply appeared beneath the boughs of a sturdy tree to any watching eyes. His breathing had not quickened even slightly, despite the exertion.
There was a ningen bathing just a few paces away. Ordinarily, such a thing would not interest Sesshomaru much, but there was something undeniably curious about this particular ningen’s scent. Curious enough for him to spare a few moments investigating the cause of the peculiar blend of fragrances, at least. Underneath the rest, there was the unmistakable tang of human. Of that, he was certain. But it was all but overpowered by a strong scent of strawberries, and it was this that piqued his interest.
He had stood in entire fields of strawberries in the past – recently, in fact, at Rin’s request – and never felt this overwhelmed by their particular aroma. This almost clogged his nostrils entirely. It also seemed somehow... unnatural. He could think of no other way to describe it. This was not the true, natural smell of the fruit, but something else altogether. Something he could not name.
As silent as the shadows he moved through, Sesshomaru glided closer to the human in the stream. It was shallow, hardly deep enough to wash properly in, but that didn’t seem to matter to the ningen. Or perhaps it was a bath of necessity, not choice, for the bather’s movements were jerky enough to speak of irritation even when he said not a word.
Again, Sesshomaru wished the night was illuminated by the moon. The ningen was nude, his clothes discarded out of sight and, though Sesshomaru was not a voyeur by nature, there was much he could appreciate about this human’s physique, such as the strong build of an otherwise slender frame, the natural and unconscious grace of his movements, and even the long, dark hair that spilled like an ebony waterfall down his back. Against the ningen’s pale skin, Sesshomaru could just see hints of damp tendrils clinging to the contours of his body.
A tingle of arousal warmed the youkai lord’s belly, and he allowed a blink of surprise. It had been so long since he’d felt that pull towards another that this was quite unexpected. He had become so jaded to matters of attraction; beauty threw itself at him so often, with demons vying for a taste of his power or his status or just simply in awe of his face – or any combination. As time went by, he satisfied his urges less and less until the urges themselves went away.
That it was a ningen who stirred them to life again was also surprising. He didn’t hate them, as his brother so ardently believed. The continued presence of his ward should have been enough to prove that. He simply saw them as inferior, and that was fact, not arrogance. A human could never match the strength, the power, the speed of even the low class youkai. The perceptions and intelligence of those in his class were far beyond what mortals could hope to achieve. Whether this was genetic or simply the result of their long, high status lives, he could not say, but the end result was still the same: ningen were surpassed by youkai.
This was not even to say that he gave less regard to ningen than to his own kind. He would cut down an enemy youkai as easily and without remorse as he would a human, and it was the same for any who stood between him and his goals. He had very little concern for the lives of any creatures, but he did not truly hate the ningen.
Except one. He felt a deep, unrelenting hate for Izayoi, the woman to whom his father pledged his heart. The woman who led him down a path of ruin to his inevitable death. The woman who bore the Inu no Taisho a son before her demise, a stain on the noble inuyoukai bloodline for mixing it with her foul taint. He hated the very sight of the whelp for that reason, for the reminder of all that had happened those two centuries ago.
He had wanted to kill the whore himself, but respect for his father had stayed his hand, as it had with the matter of Inuyasha himself. Though he had had countless opportunities while Inuyasha was maturing and learning how to survive, he had not attacked the hanyou until he had the strength to fight back and defend himself, to have a chance of escaping with his life.
Love for their father continued to check his blows even now. The Inu no Taisho had been a devoted paternal figure, a relative rarity even among the youkai elite. They kept their breeding females with them and guarded their children, but it was an instinctive drive only for most. Procreate and pass on one’s seed. Guard that seed until it is strong enough to fend for itself and then expel it from the metaphorical nest. They trained their sons to be warriors, but there was little actual bonding involved. Strong sons, after all, inevitably became formidable rivals.
The former Lord of the West had been different. Sesshomaru had stayed by his side well over a century beyond the normal expectation, and their bond had been unbreakable.
Had his father survived, he knew Inuyasha would have received the same treatment. A voice he’d long ago silenced had told him the Inu no Taisho would have wanted him to take the pup in after the death of his mother, but Sesshomaru had found the very notion of staring every day at a face that reminded him so much of that ningen woman absolutely abhorrent. It was the first time he went against what he suspected would be his father’s wishes.
Killing Inuyasha – particularly as a defenceless pup – was further than he could take this act of defiance. Yes, he had dealt the hanyou grievous injuries in the past, but he knew well the regenerative capabilities of the inuyoukai. He had never seriously threatened Inuyasha’s life. He had merely put him in his place when his arrogance got too great. Such as when he believed he could go toe-to-toe with Sesshomaru in combat and truly match his strength, even with Tetsusaiga, never once realising he had not yet faced his older brother’s full power.
The time would come eventually. One would push the other too far, and there would be a reckoning. For now, he would continue listening to his father’s voice from the netherworld and resist killing the blustering fool.
Sesshomaru distanced himself from such thoughts. Though he may be following his brother’s scent, the hanyou had no right to intrude on this rare moment.
The ningen was now rubbing something that looked like a misshapen egg between his hands, generating an impressive lather. The source of the odd strawberry scent was revealed then, but Sesshomaru was remarkably unconcerned. He was more interested in watching as the human spread the lather over the firm muscles of his torso, rubbing in slow circles down to his hips.
Sesshomaru may well have become completely distracted by the rhythmic scrubbing had the ningen not begun to mutter as his hands travelled down onto his firm thighs, forcing Sesshomaru’s ears to automatically strain to catch what he was saying. It was so quiet he could only pick out a handful of words, but it was enough to paint a picture.
“Damn lech... sore ass... fucking dirty... hide...”
Sesshomaru frowned, and not just because of the foul language he had come to associate with his brother. It almost sounded as though the ningen had been assaulted by someone, and yet that couldn’t possibly be the case. He could scent no fear or anger beneath the overwhelming strawberry.
The ningen was a puzzle. Or perhaps Sesshomaru was more distracted than he had first thought when the stranger dropped his strange, scented egg and bent over to fish it out of the water, effectively scattering the daiyoukai’s thoughts momentarily as his eyes swept over the muscular curves of the human’s buttocks and down his strong thighs, illuminated an almost teasingly small amount by the stars above.
Would the ningen run from him? His brother’s strange and assorted group, as well as his own ward, proved that humans did not always fear youkai, but it was the prevailing attitude held toward his kind.
The ningen suddenly straightened up, tense, and slowly scanned the tree lines surrounding the stream. Sesshomaru merely stayed as he was. He knew he had not been heard, for he had not moved, but evidently the intensity of his gaze had finally alerted even the feeble human senses this one possessed that he was being watched.
The daiyoukai wondered if he should approach. There was little to lose if the ningen fled, but potentially much to gain if he remained –
“Inuyasha!” a voice shouted, one he vaguely recognised as belonging to Inuyasha’s miko.
Sesshomaru froze. His brother was still in the forest? Impossible. His youki was completely absent from this forest. Perhaps that was why the miko wench called for him, unable to sense he was far from hearing her.
“Inuyasha!” she yelled again, sounding more impatient than concerned. “Hurry up! The ramen is almost ready!”
The stranger in the stream moved abruptly, turning to face the direction of his voice. “All right, all right, I’m coming!” he shouted back, and Sesshomaru’s eyes opened wide. “Don’t you let Shippo touch my fucking food!”
Inuyasha. The ningen was Inuyasha.
He knew half-demons had a period unique to them when they briefly became human, but he had never known when Inuyasha’s was. He’d never tried to know. To hunt and kill him while he was as defenceless as any human would be an unforgivable act of cowardice, an admission that he felt he was unable to defeat the hanyou at full strength. He would not allow Inuyasha that victory.
But now he knew. And worse than indulging in an easy, unsatisfying kill, he had felt lust. It had soured now, but the memory was still there every time he blinked. It was not a youkai taboo to lust after one’s own flesh and blood, but on a personal level, he was horrified.
In the stream, Inuyasha took one last careful sweep of the trees and then waded out to retrieve his clothes. By the time he reached the bank, Sesshomaru had fled.
_________________________________
Up to mid-thigh in the water, Inuyasha silently fumed. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes washing his fire rat robes, trying to get shit off them. And he did literally mean shit. That was why he was out on his own in the forest on the moonless night, when he couldn’t sense fuck all that might come along and try to chow down on him, because he refused to sit around until morning smelling like a dung heap.
Even without his youkai nose, he fucking refused.
Damn that bastard monk.
Miroku had played dirty, coming after him when he was human. Deliberately tripping him with his shakujou and landing him in a steaming pile of horse shit all because he’d hit the bastard a week ago and made him stumble over a rock and land in a muddy puddle.
The girls and the brat fox kit had all thought it was funny. He’d smacked Shippo but good for laughing at him and got himself “sat” for his troubles, but he’d been unable to do much about Sango and Kagome but yell at them. He’d been slightly mollified by Kagome giving him some of her special future era cleaning stuff to help get rid of the smell.
He rubbed Kagome’s “soap” between his hands and was almost grateful he didn’t have his powers when the thick smell rose up again. He didn’t like all those nasty girly smells at the best of times, but it was better than smelling of shit, even though he was pissed off he was going to have to smell like a giant walking strawberry until the stuff wore off.
The fact that his fire rat robes were red didn’t help.
Fucking jackass Miroku.
“Damn lech,” he muttered low to himself, irritated. “Now I’ve got a sore ass and I’m all fucking dirty. I’m gonna tan that bastard’s hide in the morning.” The soap slipped out of his hands and he almost growled. It was useful, but too fucking slippery. He didn’t even have any claws to get a good grip on the fucker to hold it in place.
He managed to catch the damn thing before the lazy current carried it away, but as he straightened up, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end in a way that wasn’t good. Something was watching him... something hungry.
With all his muscles tensed up and poised for fight or flight, he scanned the trees, mentally cursing his dull, human vision when he could barely see them, let alone whatever might be hiding in them.
Fuck. This wasn’t good. He had to –
“Inuyasha!” Kagome screeched, and he almost jumped out of his skin.
Fuck, was she trying to get him killed?!
“Inuyasha!” she shrieked again, getting impatient. “Hurry up! The ramen is almost ready!”
Well, there was no point pretending there weren’t tasty humans in the forest now. Inuyasha wasn’t sure whether he wanted to sigh or slap her for her stupidity.
“All right, all right, I’m coming!” he finally shouted, and then a thought occurred to him. “Don’t you let Shippo touch my fucking food!”
It was the smart thing to do to head back, anyway. Whatever was watching him still had his hair on end and Tetsusaiga was back at the camp; there had been little point bringing a rusty old sword that wouldn’t transform for him. He’d be dead with or without it if a strong enough youkai decided it wanted to eat him.
He waded back to the bank, stepping out and pulling his fire rat robes off the bush where he’d left them to dry. The night was warm, but it hadn’t done much to help; they’d be soaked for the rest of the night and damp for days after.
Miroku was in serious trouble.
Hurriedly, he pulled on his hakama, deciding the rest could wait until he was nearer camp, and looked around again. Oddly, the air felt calm again. There was no unsettling tingling on the back of his neck that told him someone was staring at him. He could hear nothing but the sounds of the forest’s night life around him, creatures that usually hid from a dangerous youkai.
Confused, he frowned. There had definitely been something there, but what? And why hadn’t it come after him? Unnerved, but undeniably relieved – he’d had a few encounters on moonless nights when he was younger and none had ended well – Inuyasha gathered up the rest of his clothes and Kagome’s soap and headed back to camp.
___________________________________________
Um... not sure where this came from, really. I had an idea a while back that it would be funny if Sesshomaru started lusting after Inuyasha's human form, because that's the part he supposedly despises most... although as I said in the fic, I tend to see it as him hating Inuyasha's mother, rather than all humans in general, so that didn't quite come across as much as it was meant to originally.
I highly doubt I'll continue this. But I never say never... I just say it's unlikely. Until that happens, if it ever does, you can imagine for yourself how Sesshomaru deals with his little freak out over it.
I was actually originally going to call this piece "Blame it on the Boogie". Michael Jackson reference.
"Don't blame it on sunshine

Don't blame it on moonlight

Don't blame it on good times

Blame it on the boogie"
It was the tentative title for a while until I thought of something shorter and that made more sense to anyone but me. Because Sesshomaru can't blame his attraction on any of those things - especially moonlight, because Inuyasha's a demon when there's a moon - so he's just left with the boogie. Damn that devious boogie for making him all horny.
I'm still pretty sure I'm the only one that made sense to... Oh, well.
This oneshot took a few hours to complete, spread out over several days. I originally started it during my prolonged hiatus, but got back into it and finished it today.
Hope you enjoyed the story. <3
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