title: anamnesis
pairing: inukag
summary: if kagome is herself, then you are her question.
a/n: for sankontesu, who writes the best inukag, and is just an amazing person in general.
How will it be / to lie in the sky /
without roof or door / and wind for an eye /
With cloud for shift /
how will I hide?
- "Question" by May Swenson
The second time she asks Who are you? there is friendliness between her teeth and stars in her breath, so you are angry.
I'm Inuyasha, you snap. Stop being an idiot.
This seems to hurt her - you smirk as you watch that friendliness fade; watch the stars ignite and burn into syllables, bursting atop her tongue; patiently wait for a sit boy to knock some gravity in you and reassemble the order of the universe.
But she gives no sharp commands, nor does she stay to argue. Rather, she turns and huffs something about finding jewel shards and fine I don't need you, whoever 'you' are before marching off in the opposite direction, those pale-pink hands bending around the straps of a garishly yellow bag.
You are still angry, except now your blood runs cold -
And when she does not look back, your bones ache with something like abandonment, even though she has just arrived (just returned).
.
.
.
The old woman has no explanation; the slayer thinks it's sad; the monk finds it amusing.
Everyone but you, he chortles, the chimes atop his staff click-clacking your patience away. Everyone and everything else but you, every time she comes back.
Quite frankly, it's insulting, because you are so glaringly aware of who she is - Kagome not Kikyou Kagome not Kikyou Kagome - and you can't imagine her as anything or anyone else, yet she remembers the name of the monk and the slayer and even the spider but not you.
You, who loved her an entire life ago, only to discover you may have never loved her at all; sharing the soul doesn't mean she shared the memories and sharing the memories doesn't mean you were important in them, anyway.
.
.
.
And so when she asks who are you? the words are already there, memorized like some holy hymn, like a prayer no one taught you: I'm Inuyasha and you're Kagome, Kagome; woman of the well; priestess from the future; the girl who overcame time -
(She's also not Kikyou, but for one reason or another, you gradually forget to point this out, and it makes no difference.)
.
.
.
Who are you?
You are starting to wonder just as often as she does.
Who are you?
Her smile is so lovely, it hurts.
(I am me and you are you, isn't that all we need to know?)
You reply, I'm Inuyasha, and you are Kagome, and this isn't the first time we've met.
.
.
.
Darkness, you discover, is louder than you'd ever imagined possible.
Kagome was born to fight forever within the Jewel, it sneers. What is the point of her existence otherwise?
You're wrong, you scream, Hell hanging above you, that's not why Kagome was born!
You are certain of this, because Kagome is Kagome; not Kagome for the Jewel, not Kagome for Naraku, she's just Kagome, and she is herself before anyone else, there was no room in her for anyone else -
.
.
.
And when you burst through the dark of purgatory something like recognition sparks in her features, so bright that it dazzles you, and for this it was all worth it, and you love her, God, you love her -
.
.
.
Who are you? she does not ask, smiling, fingers fisted 'round the straps of her weathered yellow backpack; a vision that is half a heartbeat from heaven, something breathless, staining your memory with stardust, and you love her.
You want to say that you are the sky and she is the sun, and without her there was no warmth or growth or life; without her, you would have never known that you were part of a galaxy at all.
"I'm Inuyasha," you answer to no one, to nothing at all. The well does not speak in her stead - not then, not now, three years later. The shadows at the bottom toss your name back - Inuyasha, I'm Inuyasha, I'm - mockingly, tauntingly, reminding you of everything you are not and everything you ought to have been.
(Because of this, you refuse to call for her; refuse to let the well have her name, too.)
So you sag back on your heels and press your nose on the weathered grey basin, imagining the impression of her palms worn into the stone, forever hoisting her body out of the depths of time, imbedded there the same way they have imprinted themselves on you.
You are Inuyasha, and you wait.
a/n: i thought it would be interesting to explore the idea of Kagome forgetting Inuyasha - but not anything else - every time she came through the well, because it would force Inuyasha to learn her identity, as opposed to how often he questions it in canon because of Kikyou. it was an interesting idea to toy with, nonetheless.