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It's been two years since the shikon no tama was wished away from existence. Two years since its malice stopped drawing in demons, since their constant struggle for power started to wane. What had been a relief in the beginning has since worn down to restlessness for InuYasha, who no longer has a stronger motivation to fuel his days than keeping villages safe from minor threats. It'll only be a matter of time, he tells himself, until another large threat will rise again, with demons putting aside their differences in the interest of pooling strength and grabbing power. It'll only be a matter of time before the world truly needs him again, a mantle that he's somehow taken from his late father without ever being told to.
But sometimes time itself feels like an insurmountable barrier, and InuYasha just doesn't care to think too much about it.
Inevitably, he still does. It's that stupid well more than anything that keeps InuYasha clinging to the past, a physical reminder of how he'd once been able to travel through time for the sake of seeing her. Kagome. Even after two years, it still carries the barest of her scent, lingering in the dirt. And even though it's been nothing more than a well for those two years, InuYasha finds himself visiting every third day, leaping to the bottom to feel closer to her. He tells himself that it's just because the scent of her is stronger at the bottom, but every time he makes the leap down, he can feel a skip in his chest. A traitorous vein of hope.
Today, he notices something different halfway down to the bottom. Ears immediately perking and eyes narrowing in suspicion, InuYasha lands softly on the dirt at the bottom of the well, sniffing the air, significantly changed. There's no trace of Kagome on the wind, but the acrid taste reminds him strongly of her world and the speedy vehicles he'd chased after on his few visits. Lowering his weight briefly, InuYasha jumps easily out of the well, perching on the wooden frame as he stares out into the distance, spotting towering buildings ahead and crowds of people milling through the streets.
This isn't where he wanted to end up, but at least it's something new. Dropping to all fours, InuYasha starts to bound for the city, nose tickled by all of the contrasting scents, and he does his best not to sneeze too much as he approaches the roads.
"What the fuck is going on here?" he asks himself, a low growl already settling into his throat.
But sometimes time itself feels like an insurmountable barrier, and InuYasha just doesn't care to think too much about it.
Inevitably, he still does. It's that stupid well more than anything that keeps InuYasha clinging to the past, a physical reminder of how he'd once been able to travel through time for the sake of seeing her. Kagome. Even after two years, it still carries the barest of her scent, lingering in the dirt. And even though it's been nothing more than a well for those two years, InuYasha finds himself visiting every third day, leaping to the bottom to feel closer to her. He tells himself that it's just because the scent of her is stronger at the bottom, but every time he makes the leap down, he can feel a skip in his chest. A traitorous vein of hope.
Today, he notices something different halfway down to the bottom. Ears immediately perking and eyes narrowing in suspicion, InuYasha lands softly on the dirt at the bottom of the well, sniffing the air, significantly changed. There's no trace of Kagome on the wind, but the acrid taste reminds him strongly of her world and the speedy vehicles he'd chased after on his few visits. Lowering his weight briefly, InuYasha jumps easily out of the well, perching on the wooden frame as he stares out into the distance, spotting towering buildings ahead and crowds of people milling through the streets.
This isn't where he wanted to end up, but at least it's something new. Dropping to all fours, InuYasha starts to bound for the city, nose tickled by all of the contrasting scents, and he does his best not to sneeze too much as he approaches the roads.
"What the fuck is going on here?" he asks himself, a low growl already settling into his throat.