Summary: An upset Inuyasha comes back to his wife's arms. Post-canon, inspired in part by Keichanz's one shot "Distraction" on Tumblr.

Word count: 1,009

Not Alright

Most of the time, Inuyasha didn't have to actually think about his condition. Not anymore, at least. The days when he walked alone, when he had to avoid towns and when he could only ever sleep with one eye open were long gone. He had friends, both humans and demons, lived in a village where he was accepted and even seen as a protector, and he was married to one of the most wonderful people he knew.

Here, he could almost forget he was a half-demon. He was, of course, always aware of the differences between him and others. He was faster, stronger, he could smell things other couldn't, and he felt his ears moving on top of his head — not that his wife would ever let him forget about those. However, to him, being a half-demon had always been tied strongly with the looks. The disgust. The hatred.

Fucked up, probably, that his very nature was what he connected to the worst experiences in his life, but he couldn't help it, and it certainly wasn't his fault.

So, yeah, most of the time, everything was good and fine, and maybe, with Kagome by his side, he would one day have enough positive memories, enough rides with her on his back, enough times of her petting his head, enough human nights in her arms, to finally think he could be happy as a half-demon. It would become just a part of him, instead of a burden. In fact, he looked forward to it.

That was probably why, when it was reminded to him what people thought of him, it hurt him the way it did now.

He'd been used to that shit. He remembered that. Not too long ago, he wouldn't even have blinked at the insults, wouldn't have wondered what the looks were for. Wouldn't have had to go "Oh yeah. Right."

Every time, his own surprise shocked him. What did he expect? The world had always been like this.

When he came back home that day after a brief but heated argument with a tradesman, Kagome, who was sorting the herbs she had collected during the day, immediately noticed his silence. Only a glance had been exchanged between them, his eyes meeting her briefly, but she could still tell immediately. Something was wrong. Not that her man had ever been particularly talkative, but there were very many different types of silence, and this wasn't one of the good ones.

It didn't take long before his head was pressed against her stomach with his arms around her waist and he was inhaling her scent.

Her wonderful scent. What had let him know she was back, what allowed him to find her every time he needed to, the first thing he had even known from her. Something he wouldn't have, or certainly not in the same way, if he wasn't a half-demon.

She didn't say anything, but her hands quickly went to his ears, and he let out a pleased growl that sounded almost like a purr, eliciting a laugh from her. Again, a moment that was them, something only they shared, and something they wouldn't have if he wasn't a half-demon, just like so many other things.

Why did they want to take that from him? Why did they want to make that part of him unenjoyable? Fucking hell, it wasn't— it wasn't fair. He had the right to be happy, just like anyone else.

He closed his eyes as Kagome started to rub the base of his ears. This was perfect. This was happiness, to him. Being with her, and enjoying the little moments. And right now, he couldn't even have that.

"Ain't nothing wrong with being a half-demon," he mumbled.

"No, there isn't," Kagome replied, not needing to ask any question.

"It wasn't my fucking fault, and even if it was, there still ain't anything wrong with it."

"No, there isn't," she repeated.

"So why?" The words came out choked, angry, almost trembling. He wasn't one to cry, but right now he felt so furious, so powerless.

Kagome's hands tightened around him, pressing him closer to her, and he relaxed a little. Everything was good here. With her, in their home. Most of the time, it was enough — but it shouldn't have to be enough.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm sorry."

But it— It wasn't about her. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was trying to make a difference, she spent her time helping people; all sort of people.

At the same time, right now, he hated humans and demons. Not her, not Shippo, not Sango and Miroku, but he was just so fucking angry—

"It's not okay," she whispered. "It's not alright that this is happening. You can be mad. You can hate the people who make your life miserable. I'll know the difference."

His eyes were burning, so he closed them. As much as he loved Kagome, and as much as she loved him, this wasn't a fight she could take part in. In many ways, this was still him against the world. Sure, there were others, but there were so few of them, and sometimes he felt so alone.

He tightened his embrace, shifting himself so his head rested in the crook of her neck. Thank God she was here. Thank God she was back. She could at least stand by his side, though in the the end this was his fight, his life. He was glad he could share part of it with her.

Things were hard and he was angry. The world was not going to become perfect all of a sudden. He knew all of that.

With her by his side, however, he felt they could make it a better place, and none of the solutions included him changing who he was at the core. There would be days like this. Days when things would not be alright. But they would be. They would make sure of that.

One day at a time.