Kagome's sleep was shallow that night, until a small noise caused her to wake fully. Her window had been slid open, and Inuyasha was sitting on the sill.
"You said you'd close the well tomorrow," he said by way of an explanation.
"Why are you here, then?"
Inuyasha became intensely interested in the floor before muttering, "I wanted to see you."
Kagome sat up in bed, pulling the coverlet around her to keep out the chill from the open window. Inuyasha had obviously gone back to the Sengoku Jidai. The color of his clothes was impossible to guess in the dim light, but their style was similar to those he had originally worn. The Tetsusaiga was notably absent, a promise not to try force again.
"What would be so bloody wrong with you coming back with me?" he blurted out, the words bulging on his tongue. Inuyasha never asked for anything if he could take it.
"Because you're a youkai now. You'll live for hundreds of years longer than I will. And . . . and—if we ever have children," and here they both blushed. "They'd have to go through all the horrible things you did."
Maybe Inuyasha had realized this already; maybe it was only now that it had truly gotten through. He was unusually thoughtful for a few minutes. Then he got up and restlessly wandered around Kagome's room.
"What is it, Inuyasha?" asked Kagome sleepily.
He didn't look at her, but answered to the wall, "I'll never be able to smell you again, Kagome."
"Then take something of mine."
"Smells fade."
Kagome lay back down.
She did not cry, and neither did she sleep.