Battle of Wills by Knight of Disorder

Battle of Wills

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

He had watched her since birth, since the day he felt her power come into the world. She was like the sun, casting off power like it was as ever abundant as air. Burning any youkai that even thought to come close to the village she lived in, searing the flesh away from any beast that thought to threaten her as she grew. He watched, year after year.

At five, she'd been training with the local miko for nearly a year. Her power still like a barrier itself, pouring our across the land. Bringing life to dry fields and rains to clear skies. The power she carried no longer wild, but simply present. Ever present and he watched, month after month.

She turned seven, in humans years. Her power far more controlled, not only did she have natural skill but an amazing talent for learning. This however brought many things, it brought thieves and crooks seeking her out for their own gains. Scams and kind words, all were pushed aside. Her mother refusing to let her leave the village and her father a trusted solider to the lands lord. All were turned away their dark designs, and even more those who thought they were doing good. He watched, week after week.

She was twelve. Beyond powerful for her age, beyond powerful for any miko. No longer did her power radiate like the sun, but a barrier replaced it. One that carried a refined elegance, a barrier that he compared against his own. A smile twisting his lips in the darkness of the trees. Word of youkai attempting to hunt the child had bothered him, if they were truly intending to do her harm then her power wouldn't be enough. He watched, day after day.

At seventeen she sat atop the hill at the edge of her village, staring into the forest which carried the darkness and hate of every youkai she'd ever come across and not killed. For she didn't kill, unless she needed. She did not harm if it was not necessary, she helped all if able. She was kind, and skilled. Skilled in the healing arts, and skilled in the art of the sword. It was her place to defend and she did. With a passion rivaled only by the daiyoukai that watched her. Year after year, month after month, week after week, and day after day.

Only leaving her to attend to his duties, to his lands and his people. Then he would return, a primal part of him wishing to ruin her purity in the most deviant fashion, another however wishing to cradle the power of one who showed loyalty to those who earned it over those who thought it was deserved. Moving with the grace beaten into his bones from years upon years of training he closed the distance between them, between himself and her barrier.

"Miko," his voice was deep and thick but held no promises or thought. It was simply there, floating on the air so much like a bubble. Not nearly as frail, as it reached her ears and he watched her eyes open slowly.

"Daiyoukai," no youkai of his power had ever come this close to her barrier without ill intent. This one however, showed no aggression. His body lacking the tension of trained of muscles ready for strike or the sharp aura of one wishing harm.

Dipping his head slightly, "you are trained?"

"Yes," her head dipping in return. The simple fact that she sat on her shins making the position that much more demeaning, though she wouldn't demand to stand. He was a daiyoukai, a creature of strength she could only image.

"Schooled?"

He seemed to like asking questions, and she was sure by the lack of any surprise that he knew the answers he was seeking already. Perhaps just wishing to catch her in a lie, it would not be something she would do. "Some."

"Show this one." Reaching and slowly pulling the dragons fang sword from his side, the long straight blade hissing as the slight mist in the air rushed away from the hot metal. "He wishes to test your skills, you have his word that your life will be safe."

Kagome stared at him, she knew him. All knew him, any who didn't know who he was by power had but to simply view his face or the weapon he carried. He had honor, if he gave his word it was good to the moment of his death and would be honored by his descendants. Rising slowly from her formal position on the grass, barely brushing her fingers across her leggings before slipping through the barrier and drawing her own sword from her side.

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AN: This is it, there is nothing more for it. I forgot about it, happened to be reading through my Yarny account to see if there was anything I could possibly use to spark an idea for NaNa tomorrow and happened to run into this. It's pretty neat if I say so myself. Please R&R, thank you.