"Mama?"
Kagome sighed happily. She would never tire of that word. "Yes, little fire?"
Beaming a bit at the term, Moroha fumbled a bit, a nervous little mirror of her awkward father. "I was thinking…and I was wondering…."
Kagome waited, patiently. "Yes? About what?"
"What you and Papa say. About me not deserving to be hurt like I was."
"What about it? It's true." On this, Kagome was adamant.
"But…I'm confused. If it's true and you aren't supposed to hurt people you love—at least, not on purpose—why do you hurt Papa?"
Oh, she blanched at that. "What?! Whatta you mean?" Kagome's heart all but stopped. What had she done to put such a thing in her daughter's head? Was it their arguments? They still had them, sometimes, but overall, she thought their communication was so much better than it had ever been. Inuyasha and she certainly never failed to show their affection anymore even if Inuyasha blushed furiously while doing it and Moroha would cover her giggle at his awkwardness.
But there was nothing funny in her daughter's eyes now. Whatever she was talking about, she was dead serious.
Without breaking her eye contact from the ground, Moroha answered and Kagome could barely see the tears in her eyes. "Sit Boy."
Quiet, solid and sure, dictated the landscape and Moroha returned to pulling herbs and tossing them into a basket to break the spell.
Kagome watched her, her tongue tied in knots. Much as she wanted to respond with the concept that Moroha didn't understand or that it was complicated, she didn't want to be condescending or dismissive. And after everything her daughter had been through, who was she to say the girl didn't understand?
And if Moroha was stating such things without even a hint of humor, it was pretty obvious they had some communication issues to address.
So, after taking a breath, Kagome started talking.
"Moroha, do you know why your father wears that necklace?"
The young girl shook her head. "No."
"Well," Kagome sat back. "When I first met your father, he'd been mystically sealed to the Tree of Ages for fifty years. When I released him, he was full of anger and pain. The new necklace was put on him to keep him from attacking me or anyone else."
"Papa wouldn't hurt you."
Smiling at her daughter's insistence, Kagome agreed. "No, he definitely wouldn't now—"
"Never would have." Moroha interrupted. "Papa might scare you or something but really hurt you? Don't believe it."
"He's grown a lot since we first met."
"That's part of his heart." Moroha scowled. "I don't believe it. I don't believe he'd ever have hurt you. Not on purpose."
Kagome considered this though she wanted to reject the idea. After all, he'd been charging her, threatening her. He'd chased her.
But hurt her? Would he have? She couldn't say for sure. Sure, the villagers had been petrified of him but had he ever really hurt them, beyond defending himself?
The unknown cut her.
"And who made the necklace?" Moroha's hands crushed the bulbs she was harvesting and she cursed. "Who had the idea in the first place? Why would you make something like that?"
Kagome answered that one very quickly. "Kikyo. The first priestess and the first person your father loved."
"Bullshit." Moroha snarled. "Maybe Dad loved her but she didn't love him."
"I think she did, in her own way." How odd to be defending Kikyo—
"If she made something to restrain him like that, no, she didn't. Not really. Knew I didn't like that bitch. Tree spirit using her form or not, a bitch is a bitch." Moroha finally looked at her mother. "Why Mama? Why did she make that for him?"
"Your father used to be very impulsive. Sometimes in ways that were dangerous for him and other people—"
"Why didn't anyone help him? Talk to him? You don't keep doing something that hurts you for no reason!"
"You're right. But he had so much raw demon power—"
"He could still talk. He talked to you and the others. When you're hurting, it's hard to think straight sometimes. I made stupid mistakes because I thought one thing but it wasn't true." She pounded the ground with her fist, anger in her eyes.
"Yes." Kagome was feeling more and more uncertain. Because her daughter was making her think. "Tessaiga got broken at one point, Moroha. That was something that helped seal his demon blood. Without it—"
"Trust me, Mama. I know what can happen without it." She moved, looked her mother right in the face, hands on her thighs. "But Papa said you could calm him without it. Just by being there!"
"After…a while, yes."
"Then why does he still have it?" She leapt up, looking down at her mother, face red and fists clenched. "Why do you still use it?"
"I rarely use it."
"You used it last night." Came the accusation. "He wasn't in danger of hurting anyone last night. You were just mad he didn't agree with you."
Kagome went quiet because what else could she say? There was truth in that statement. She had been mad. She'd felt Inuyasha wasn't seeing things like she felt he should.
But…them seeing things differently was one reason they were so strong together.
So…what right had she to do that?
Moroha turned abruptly.
"Moroha?" Kagome rose as well, basket clutched in her hands. "Where are you going?"
"To think. I'll be back, promise." They'd established not too long after the reunion that simply staying this cooler most anxieties. "But let me ask you something, Mama."
"Anything—"
"Would you put that necklace on me?"
Kagome froze.
"Would you use that command on me? I act stupid sometimes. Say things that are dumb. Think things that aren't true. Act before I think. Would you put that necklace on me?"
The image passed through her head, briefly, of her daughter being violently pulled to the ground, crying out in pain and taking a moment to gather her strength before she stood again.
Just like her father did.
Maybe because of how vividly she pictured it, her mind flashed so many other memories at her.
The look of pain in Inuyasha's face after each time. He'd scoff and shrug it off, but it was always there.
She'd always just…dismissed it. After all, Inuyasha could handle it. He was strong.
But her Moroha was strong too.
The realization made her sick, sick down right to her bones.
Just because someone could handle something, didn't mean they should have to.
"No." Kagome finally said. "No, I wouldn't put it on you."
"Then why leave it on Papa?" The girl ran off without another word, seeking solace in the forest.
Kagome stood there, stock still. Her mind still reeled and she found herself getting lost in it. Every time she'd used that command came back to her in vivid color and sound.
Sit, boy.
Sit, boy.
Sit, boy!
Tears welled in her eyes. How had she become so numb to it? So used to it that her mind jumped to it instantly, for stupid, mundane things?
She looked downward, face pointed to the ground and let herself dead-weight.
The ground hit her hard, pain radiating through her chin. A wince cut her face, blood from a split lip stung iron on her tongue.
And you just dead-fell.
Kagome stood, wiped her mouth. Guilt poisoned her every breath. She loved Inuyasha. More than she ever thought she'd be able to love anyone. He'd made her life full, given her a spice she'd not even realized she was missing. He'd made life in the Black Pearl as tolerable as he could, always encouraging her not to lose heart.
How could I keep doing this? How could I…
She had to fix this.
Head high, shoulders fixed, she stomped towards home, eyes set to find her Inuyasha. She had something to do, something to correct.
She should have done it years ago.
"Inuyasha!"
