The Shikon no Tama was a double-edged sword. It would give you whatever you wanted, but if the wish was purely on selfish means, it would be the end of you. What a lovely little sentiment – the warning engraved at the bottom of the cloudy jewel. So few heeded it.

That was why the Shikon no Tama so regularly unleashed disaster in its wake. But now Kagome had given up. Her head was hanging and she'd given up on adding in the cliché 'but the conditions are''s and 'but only if''s...let him do what he wanted. To become a youkai, to stay a hanyou, to do whatever he wanted.

It truly wasn't her place anymore, not at the end of their – relationship – or whatever it was called.

I died to keep you from it, and now I willingly give it to you.

How ironic, how amusing, how terribly sad.

Her unoccupied hand haphazardly brushed at her eyes to that her vision would be a little less blurred by the wet droplets collecting on her eyelashes like morning dew.

"What?"

The girl asked, knowing she'd heard him correctly but asking anyway. The sun warmed the tama, the soft surface too gentle. If it could look a little less benign, if she could have a little more dignity, if he could only look at her – never mind the tears that were freely flowing. She couldn't bring herself to make the hot rivulets stop.

Finally she broke eye contact, resolve shaking as her head lowered to stare at the earth between her feet.

It's funny, once you think about it. How you can say something clear as day, right to someone's face, and they'll still ask you to repeat it like they hadn't understood a word you'd said.

/"I don't want it."/

Those four words, on their own, are so useless. They can good or bad, confusing or simple. Without a situation, without a circumstance, they are nothing. Until you give them a purpose, in this case, a refusal, they are hollow sounds that bounce around an endless void.

They had come so easily, easier than he'd expected. He'd said them without really realizing he'd said them. They'd just come.

There she went again, crying. Inuyasha looked up from the sparkling jewel, intending to make eye contact. But now /she/ was the one looking down. He felt tears come freely from his eyes, trailing down his face to fall to the ground. Gripping the edge of his sleeve, he reached out to Kagome to wipe the tears off her face with the back of his cloth-covered fist.

"I don't want it, Kagome. It would be wasted." His voice was reassuring, but there was no quiver of second thoughts or doubt as he said it.

He put his arms around her tightly, wondering if he could ever truly let go.