"Why do you have such long hair?" asked the little girl, gazing up at the grumpy half demon in wonder.
Not looking at the girl, Inuyasha shrugged slightly in reply. They had found her crying on the side of the road, a demon had destroyed her village and now they were taking her back to Kaede. Inuyasha turned his eyes from the young girl's brilliant blue ones to Kagome's chocolate ones. Her face looked puzzled and sympathy radiated from her. He didn't understand, was he really that transparent? Miroku and Sango hadn't noticed anything; they continued to talk, warming their hands by the fire. Kagome could always read him so well, sometimes better than he could read himself.
He then turned his gaze to the fire, lost in memories.
She always combed his hair with her brush, every night. As she gently stroked his hair, she had sung his lullaby. Time had blurred the words in his mind, but the tune had stayed with him. Her voice had been soft. She had been his only comfort.
"You look just like him," she had said lovingly, "Just like him."
She had had the most beautiful eyes, so full of hope and compassion.
"Inuyasha, I love you, and I will never leave you. You may not see me, but I will always be there. I love you more than the stars and moon, I love you all the way across the ocean and back. I love you as much as all the hair on your head."
She had had the most gentle hands and back then they had softly smoothed his hair. The hair that had reminded her so much of his father.
Later when Inuyasha had stood before her grave, he remembered her words: "I love you as much as all the hair on your head." His tear-stained face and heavy heart had longed for her words to be true. How could she love him when he had caused her death? If he hadn't been born, the villagers would never have set the house on fire in order to rid their village of the "hideous half demon."
His tears had drowned his sanity in despair. He couldn't move. He couldn't eat or sleep. He just was. But her words continued to haunt him. She would never have lied to him. She hadloved him. And he would never touch the hair to which she had compared her love.
Inuyasha was awakened from his memories by the soft rain which was snaking its way down his face, dripping from the leaves to the ground and soaking his clothes. He wasn't upset by it though, it hid from the others the tears that were now rolling traitorously down his face. He took a deep breath, but inwardly he felt overwhelmed. It didn't do him any good, dredging up these old memories. Suddenly, he felt a small hand grip his own.
And he smiled.
I hope you enjoyed the story! Don't forget to review!
-Sydney