"Today is Yuiren's birthday." Tamahome gripped the railing of the ship. "She would have been six years old."

"Oh." Miaka never knew what to say when that subject came up. "...too bad we're so far away from Konan, or we could..."

"Put flowers on her grave?" He let go of the railing and shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess." Miaka sighed, fingering the acorn necklace the little girl had made for her, pressed into her hand just before she'd died in Tamahome's arms.

"I already put the present I bought for her there before we left," he said.

"Oh." Miaka's eyes filled with tears. "I...I'm sorry, Tamahome, I know how hard this still is for you and I wish I could do more to help you."

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair as a few tears escaped his eyes.

"You're here," he murmured. "That's all the help I could ask for."