For: my Inuyasha claim at iynokakera before I dropped it. Now, its for anyone.
Note: 2nd perspective. implied Izayoi/InuTaisho.
In Humanity
Sometimes, when you look at him, it's all you can do not to cry.
Some say he is lucky. Most say he is cursed. To you, he is a coin with sides of silver and gold; no one but you can see beyond the differences, see how precious he really is. He is worth more then gold or silver separately - his is a race of redemption - so why must he live the harder life?
Always, when you peer into his future, there are two choices, two paths. Perhaps it is true, that he is different inside and out, but shouldn't there be a middle ground, a middle road? He came from your womb, born from the love of a woman and a beast, but hardly was his father a monster and you, his mother, more then a girl. He is the forbidden fruit of the earth, harvested in the oppressing winter, planted and coaxed to grow in the fragile small garden of one star-crossed dream.
Despite you deepest desires, he was still born in pieces, severed by the corrupt blade of truth. He is his father's legacy and his mother's heart and sometimes both but mostly neither. And while he knows little of what he is, he knows more of what he is not.
He is not youkai nor human, not worthy not good, not perfect nor ever good enough. He is neither his father nor his mother, not wanted not safe, not protected nor ever simply loved.
He is not happy.
Life was simple, once. When he was curled beneath your belly, still a sleeping dream, reality could not crush you. You still had his father to live for, his son to carry, you still had your pretty fantasy. Delusional you may have been, but with truth vying to tear you to pieces you were content to let the world slip away with out you.
He is the spitting image of his father; strong willed, stubborn, open hearted. With the half blood of an inhumanity, he doesn't understand the struggle of power within him, why he is better but treated as weaker. It is in his blood, they say, but the power he is crippled with has nothing to do with birth and more to do with shame. He can not gain strength from a world that has slipped by without him.
You would like to think it is not you fault, but while his father supplied the body, in his chest lies your human heart, the piece of your soul born from your womb. His mind is the middle ground, the ties that bind his differences, but it is also the one thing not even you can comprehend.
It is also the one thing he can not keep.
What will he do? In this world of black and white, there is no room for grey. He has a choice, as do all those who walk multiple paths. He can choose humanity, or he can choose immortality. To not choose is a choice, but one without completion, for neither of his sides will settle for equal.
You love him and cherish him, but in the end he is your son, the part of you that you wish never to leave. You would never make him choose, but deep in your heart you wish he had been born human, because isn't having no choice mean there's nothing to lose?
In longevity he will suffer humanities fragility, in mortality he will resent humanities weakness; yet is it so wrong that you wish he would take your path? A parent can not help but wish for his or her child to follow in their steps. His father had.
Always, a war within him, around him. A breeder of resentment and pain, loss.
When you look at him, it's all you can do not to cry.
In his veins webs the blood of conflict and for him, there really is no choice.
His paths only lead to one end.