It would've been an insult, but, alas it would've been a comforting insult. It would be Inuyasha acting like himself, not this new mannequin that could talk and walk with all the human annotations, although desperately lacking in other senses. It would make her able to say, 'No, you aren't fine.' And allow her to fight with him like she used to, that easy, mildly comforting sort of fighting that would only go so far only so often, and then, of course, the rosary was always there.

When she gave him the tama, would the rosary be destroyed for lack of necessity? He wouldn't be able to come to her, and she unable to come to him...unless she kept the tama.

Their tether would be cut.

Oh, am I the one that is hurting you? Aren't you the one who kept me here all along? I could've stayed away...left you shardless...but I never did. You aren't piecing me together, you realize. I am a thousand fragments now, and you've just been staring at them for the past two weeks. Has it been so long that I've been lying? Pretending? Does everyone know? Have they been merely been humoring me? Splendid, marvelous.

I lied for my sake. I am selfish -- I am not half so holy as others make me out to be.

We had something in common now, didn't we? Kikyou and I...we wanted to keep you, so we put our hearts on the line.

Doesn't it make you feel special?

Callous, hard, cruel -- that was how she felt inside. That was how she was probably /making/ herself feel. A pause -- a break in her internal rant. She blinked at him as he asked, wondering if it was a strange sort of joke made by some odd hallucination in her mind. A hologram, or something. No. The way in which the question was stated told otherwise. And she wondered rather blankly as to what she was supposed to do.

She would do what she wanted - in the rare moment that she did happen to know what she wished. The young miko took a few small steps toward him, seriously expecting the ground to cave in.

Thump, thump, the jewel against her leg.

Thump, thump, the bedraggled beating of her heart.

If only both of those thoroughly annoying noises would stop.

"Hai, Inuyasha."

How odd of him, to ask that kind of question. Why had he? There was no regret, no wave of emotion that told him to laugh and tell her he was joking. There was no hesitation in his movements as he reached out to her, pulling her closer and holding her like he had nothing to lose. Secure, yet still relaxed. The hanyou came to the realization of how much smaller than him she was, how much shorter. His arms encircled her, the overlarge sleeves nearly making her disappear. His head bent down, inhaling the strong scent of her hair and whatever it was she used to wash it.

No, no regret at all. As he sank in, letting the knowledge that he'd have to let go eventually, golden optics closed. His heartbeat was as hollow as ever, the cracking as it split in half almost lengthening. He could end it all right here, steal the jewel and run off, never have to see her again. The fragile string that held them together would be severed, and she'd never have to see him again. But what would he do with it? He'd seen what the tama could do; all who used it ended up dead or tortured, no matter how they tried to justify its use. He couldn't just drop it somewhere; someone, anyone could pick it up and they'd be right back to square one. He couldn't keep it; it would take him over, like it had done to everyone else. A risk he couldn't take.

Tell her, right here, right now. Tell her everything, something inside him said. It wasn't one voice; it was a mass of voices, of all the people who knew them. Sango, Kaede, Shippo, Miroku. Even a bit of himself was talking with the others. How did they expect him to say it? Kagome, I've been in love with you for....I don't know how long. Every time you leave, I die a little bit more. Then he'd be lost. He couldn't ask her to stay; that would be too selfish, even for him. She had a life that Sengoku Jidai wasn't a part of. He knew that. And he had a life here. Not that his life here meant anything anymore; the taijiya and the monk were together, and happy. Shippo was content to live with Kaede. He just stood on the sidelines, trying to fit in like a donkey in a herd of horses. He only half fit, but not quite enough to stay.

Inuyasha took a deep breath, clearly feeling his lungs fill and empty. He couldn't cry anymore; his eyes were dry, devoid of anything to cry. He'd done his share of weeping before hand. It wasn't the sobbing kind, like what you saw in movies or read in stories right before the weeper was rescued and they lived happily ever after. It was the silent crying, the kind you did when you couldn't find it in you to sob, or like when you stared at the moon and it was just so beautiful you couldn't say it. The kind that fell down your face slowly, but never seemed to end either.

"Gomen," he said quietly without letting go.

What else could she do?

Let him keep falling?

Watch as his hand reached towards her? He hadn't failed her, he'd just been disillusioned. Believing that becoming a youkai would dissolve his insecurities, only to realize that it made him heartless and bloodthirsty...she didn't blame him for his choice, exactly, she blamed him for the callous stupidity in which he'd clung to it. Failure was such a strong word, worse then inadequacy – inadequacy was a far kinder term. But she'd failed. She'd failed in her own way, weak and diluted as it was, by not telling the truth. By pushing him away without explanations, by avoiding him without a second thought.

That counted as failure.

It could feel right, but it could still be wrong.

She was telling herself that currently – over and over, halfheartedly as ever, trying to drown out the louder, more belligerent voice that claimed that she was just scared. Terrified of saying anything other then apologies, wondering when the time would come that he would entirely realize that his arms were around her and she would be pushed away. Go, Kagome. Don't let this linger. Don't let this float on, stagnant air, heavy and painfully hard to blow away. It felt right, but still she wanted to move . Almost as if he was the negative pole – pushing her even though she was in his arms. Let go, say goodbye, be wretched, make him regret whatever it was that you had.

Unusable nonsense, but comforting unusable nonsense as he began to speak.

A life without Inuyasha...how strange.

Her world revolved around Sengoku Jidai – her world /was/ Sengoku Jidai. Life in Tokyo was forced for no one knew her enough anymore. They couldn't remember whether she liked the color blue, or if she needed a Band-Aid for that scratch on her left knee. To suddenly snap back into something so abruptly unfamiliar would be sharp and astringent. Oh, she would be jumping in the well only to hurt herself...break a few limbs, what have you. She would never be able to let it go, never able to let /him/ go. That was why saying goodbye was so much harder. It was inviting hurt; it was inviting pain and suffering and loneliness – the pure ache of being without him.

Being in love did that as well, and yet...and yet this would be worse.

Tears. Faint plops as they hit her head.

His fault? What had he done? She had volunteered to stay with him, even when he'd truly tried to push her away. She'd come back. She had more then said that she didn't want to leave him, and yet his tone was so sad. So horribly sad, all resonant and clear – too clear. It gave her too much time to focus on exactly what he was saying, it let ever syllable sink in like shrapnel. And her vocal chords were gone right now. They'd run away – with the way she was feeling, they might've never existed. Her protestations were invisible.

Inaudible, but there.

Kagome allowed herself to be pushed away, reluctantly, and her eyes met his. Stares allowed too much to be conveyed, too much intent and you seemed angry, too little and your shyness was nauseating. And all that Kagome could convey was the wetness that crying induced, covering up the glassiness and the translucence that she felt she was radiating. He could see through her, see through her meaningless façade. But that had been known since she'd jumped through the well and seen him in the water.

Kami, his shining, honey-hued eyes, so very much like amber in the way that she was stuck in them like an unwary fly. She could see her reflection in his orbs, and she felt just about as small as the troublesome insect as the hanyou's tears welled.

Small and horrible as she saw the excess go down his cheeks.

Wonderful. His fault. Jumbled almost immediately – because she saw him closing in and something unexpected happened.

A kiss. Such a simple thing, lips pressed together, nothing more. And yet...and yet she returned it, aware of what was going to happen. So very aware of the sun above her head and the tama in her pocket. Kagome's hand reached to Inuyasha's shoulder, feigning the urge to retreat before she woke up and found herself at home in Tokyo, ready to go through a similar process all over again. Let this just be good, let this just be our singularly happy moment. Let me just pretend for however long. Don't burden me with reality, not quite now.

/"I will always love you"/

And I've loved you all along.

Inuyasha pulled her closer to him, hugging her as tightly as he dared. His lips against hers felt right...There was no other way to describe it. But he had to say goodbye, had to walk away. It wasn't going to be easy, and his heart would shatter; bits and pieces of it felt like they were flaking off already. But this was what was best for her. She had to go back to her home, living where she didn't need to fear for her life because of crazed demons or sorcerers. That was what she deserved; peace.

Peace and safety that he couldn't give her here.

He broke away, half pushing her away, half pulling away himself. A tinge of her still lingered on his lips, a taste he would not soon forget. Letting go of Kagome, he half turned away, still looking at her.

"Gomen nasai, but...You have to go back. It's better for you there, safer. It's what you deserve. I can't protect you anymore."

There, he'd said it. The words burned his throat, and his legs felt numb. He couldn't think much anymore; he felt like the walking dead. For his own purposes, he was. Turning completely, the hanyou made his feet move, walking away slowly and wiping his face in contempt.

Kami, he hated himself.