(Ref 1, Ref 2, Ref 3)
It was rare these days that InuYasha got a day off. Whether from his human job or his side job, the time he spent doing things for himself was dwindling and becoming more rare than the demons he hunted. His nose twitched as he leaned against a tree, tying his long, white hair back over his shoulder and lifting his lips over his fanged teeth in a snarl. He could smell his quarry, which was rapidly increasing the distance between the two of them in leaps and bounds, and he didn’t like the idea of chasing it down. He was even less fond of the idea that the creature had practically been running amuck in his own back yard (literally, because he owned the forest) and he hadn’t noticed it until now. He’d been so busy grading papers and thinking of new lesson plans, not to mention entertaining a visit from that Bureau bastard, Tsume, who insisted he take a heavier hand in the comings and goings of the demons in his immediate territory, that he hadn’t really had time to go sniffing around the forest for any intruders. But when he’d gone for an afternoon walk on Saturday, he’d caught the unmistakable scent of a trespassing demon (and a low class one at that, which added insult to injury) and been forced to put his work on hold to eliminate it.
Unfortunately, despite being the demon being outclassed and outmatched, he’d managed to put up a good fight, going so far as to tear a rather wide gash in the arm of InuYasha’s expensively tailored dress shirt, and made a run for it. The half-demon pursuer’s heart wasn’t really in the chase, and as much as he wanted to get rid of the damned thing, he just didn’t feel like it. He was tired, he had fucking papers to grade, and he hated that stupid Tsume bastards and the next time he saw him he’d tear his face in half with his bare hands and-- God damn it, he was tired of this heat! Cursing under his breath, InuYasha bounded off the forest floor, taking to the trees with expert ease, moving fluidly from branch to branch with little effort. He’d done this thousands of times, if not millions, and it felt as natural to him as breathing. A vivid memory of blue-black hair and chocolate brown eyes flashed across his vision, nearly making him stumble, and he immediately froze on the branch, panting in a way that was disproportionate to the effort expended. He remembered a time when he would do this, when a young woman would cling to his back, pointing out which way the demon was going.
A time when he’d agree and bound after his quarry with enthusiasm, keeping his charge safe from harm and looking after her all the while disposing of the threat. He remembered easy laughter and bright smiles and a voice threatening “Osuwari!” to sit him into oblivion if he didn’t behave. He fingered the beads around his neck with a smirk, remembering all the times he’d ended up with a face full of dirt and a headache. But he’d never complained --well, not really-- and he missed those days more and more. In the end, she was only human, his dear, dear companion, and in the end, he’d outlived her easily. She was buried here, somewhere deep in his forest, next to a shrine that had survived since the ancient, feudal days of Japan, but he hardly visited her grave anymore. The memories were too painful. InuYasha was so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to hear the rapid approach of his quarry until it was too late. The demon, an ugly, green thing that had the vague shape of an ogre and five inch long canines sticking out of either side of his jowls, slashed a nice hole in the back of his shirt, drawing blood as the hanyou bit his lip and leapt from the tree, tamping down on the urge to cry out in pain.
Instead, he snarled, turning to face the demon and reaching up to feel the rent in his shirt where blood dribbled in slow, oozing rivulets down his back. He soaked his claws in the blood as the low class demon chuckled, inching forward with a hungry look in it’s eyes. In the next instant, InuYasha had dragged his arm around, flinging blades made of blood at his prey. The demon barely had time to shriek before the blades sliced him in pieces, and he fell to the ground with a sickening ‘thump,’ green blood oozing into the ground and making the dead leaves hiss as it soaked into them. InuYasha knew nothing would ever grow there again, but it didn’t really matter much; even as he sat down against one of the trees, hissing as his back pulled painfully at the slices in his skin, and sighed. Maybe he’d just sit here for a day or two and let the damn things heal; he really needed a break from grading papers anyway.