Human

T

he rusty metal axe met wood with a dull thud.

He threw the cut pieces of wood into a growing pile behind him, noticing the subtle rays of orange creeping across the sky, a sure sign of approaching dusk. The black haired man gathered all of his gains for the day and tied them. They were then thrown on his back as he began to long and weary hike home.

It was times like these when Inuyasha loathed being human the most. Things that he could once do simply in a few seconds took him hours to actually complete. A swipe of his claws would have once easily sliced a tree into pieces. It now took ages just to cut a tree down. It wasn't as if his human form, or rather, his current state, was weak. In fact, he was one of the stronger men in his village. He could not, however; compare to the strength he once had - at times was even surprised at how weak he could be.

As he trampled across the rocky trail, surrounded by trees, Inuyasha realized that he - the man who was once a demon, craved the thrill of the hunt. It was a nagging feeling, deep within his skin, tugging at his heart - the faint reminder of what he once had. The excitement of battling with his all against an opponent, testing new skills and stretching the very limits of his strength - life threatening moments that boiled his blood, where every wrong move could have easily cost his life.

Where he could once run so quickly that many demons had envied him, he was replaced with heavy feet that he needed to rest every few minutes. He always pushed himself to do better, trained himself often but his improvements have always been subtle. His ears and nose, once reaching out to places impossible to see. A time where every scent could tell a tale of its own, weaving a story with its intricate depths – things he would not allow himself to forget, despite how painful it was to think of the many great things he could have done if he was not caged in the human body as he was.

Inuyasha stopped walking. He had reached a small house surrounded by its brothers – other houses fashioned exactly like the one he stood before. Smoke poured out of quaint little chimneys, children played outside, men entering their homes; expecting a warm dinner after a hard day’s work. Inuyasha was slightly disgusted to be one of them. He never really wanted to be human; all he wanted was to make Kikyo happy. He had managed to, at the expense of his own. It wasn’t as if he was not happy. He was – but there were times he felt restless and annoyed, never at ease.

“Inuyasha?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.”

Inuyasha stared at the black haired woman in front of him, as though dazed. “Kikyo…”

Kikyo smiled. It warmed his heart, he dully noted. “Why don’t you put your things down,” she referred to the firewood he had slung on his back, “And let us eat.”

He did as he was told, mind still deep in thought.

As he settled down on the wooden chair that he himself had carved, he faced Kikyo; who was humming to himself. She was content, he realized. She should be, he thought. After all, she had the life she had always dreamed of. The normal life granted to every woman, a life that was denied to her, the woman who was born a priestess – destined to serve her people and only them, laying their needs before her own. She could not stand a life as such. She was secretly selfish. As was he, he thought. They were truly the same.

“What is wrong?” Kikyo asked, her brows furrowing; eyes set on the man in front of her.

“What do you mean?”

“You have been…” she trailed off, as if finding the correct word. “Unnaturally silent these days.”

“It’s nothing,” Inuyasha mumbled, rubbing his human eyes. “I’m just… tired.”

She was silent. For a moment, there was only the sound of the clay spoon clinking against the plate.

“You do not,” Kikyo hesitantly began, a nervous look on her face. A look he had rarely seen; one he would not care to see again. “… Regret your decision, do you?”

His head whipped up in surprise. “Of course not,” he said firmly, with all the determination he could muster. He realized wryly that he had sounded more confident that he felt.

“Good,” Kikyo said, lowering her eyes. “Good,” she said again. She looked up. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

“I love you too.” Inuyasha replied truthfully.

And as their lips met, Inuyasha couldn’t help but wonder what went wrong.

---

It was late at night, perhaps even early in the morning – he was not sure. He knew that Kikyo was in deep sleep. A full day’s worth of chores could do that to someone. Standing in the heart of the forest, he took a deep breath.

He was tense. He knew that the restlessness he had in the past week had been constantly building up in his body, bubbling in the pit of his stomach, ready to explode at any time.

Inuyasha tightened his fist, biting his lip so hard it drew blood; he punched the tree in front of him. Leaves rained down on him, as if mocking him. If he had been a hanyou at that moment, the tree would have ceased to exist. He wasn’t and it was all that had mattered. He punched the tree again, barely biting into the bark. He growled and punched it again, channeling all his anger and hatred.

Again.

He wondered if he had ever resented Kikyo for wanting him to be a human.

Again.

He wondered if she had actually cared for him rather than just wanting a way out of being a priestess.

Again.

Blood trickled down his fist but he paid it no heed. He breathed heavily, tears pooled in his eyes. Leaning against the battered tree, he let out a scream of frustration, pouring out every fiber of his very being.

---

He opened his eyes hours later to find that the sun was already high up in the sky.

Kikyo must be worried, was his first thought.

His eyes glazed over, remembering what had happened the previous night. He looked at his injured hand, realizing it had remained as it was, injured. He was still human.

He knew he loved Kikyo. He and Kikyo could live a peaceful life without his demon blood and her responsibility as a priestess.

But somehow, that just wasn’t enough.

Nevertheless, he knew he couldn’t change anything.

Inuyasha nursed his hand and journeyed home, where Kikyo would be waiting for him.