What would she have done differently, had she known it was their last day?

The question kept rattling around her head, creeping into her thoughts at the worst of times. When she was grocery shopping, the endless possibilities making her teary-eyed, while correcting papers, distracting her from her piles of work, when lying alone in bed, hand sprawled over the spot he used to lie.

When he was next to her, laughing happily, looking at her from the corner of his eye. What would she have done differently?

Would she have laid in bed with him longer, running her hands through his silver hair, delighting in the sounds he made as she rubbed his ears? Kagome would have held him closer, trace the lines and curves of his body so she could remember it later. Parts of him that had once been so clear faded over time; she wanted to engrave all of him in her mind.

She'd follow him to the shower, wash his body with her own hands, leaving her own trail of wetness with her tongue. If it was her last day with him, she would take him for all he was worth. Even back then she knew no one would compare.

If she knew then what she knew now... nothing would change. Back then he was always angry, always quick to say a bitter word or leave quickly. He left often, work being his primary excuse. It was easier to leave than to argue, although they took that route often as well. Their relationship had seemed so easy once, sure, there were times they fought, but Inuyasha was never one to go to bed early.

What could she have done differently? She often thought that way. Could she have been more accommodating, more patient when his mood swung? Could she have asked what bothered him, followed him when he left? What good would any of that have done, if his heart was with Kikyo?

Even still, she wished she could go back to her last day of blissful ignorance and treasure it all the more. The Kagome back then did not know what heartbreak was awaiting her.

"What would you do?" She had asked him, stretched out on their bed, he miles away, his voice low in her ear. Late night calls were becoming more frequent are increasingly dangerous.

"I don't remember what it was like." He answered honestly. Inuyasha could not recall their break up nor the day before.

"It was a normal day, for us back then at least. We worked, came home. We argued and you left. You didn't come back until the next day."

"I was a fucking idiot." He sighed, sounding wearier than he had earlier. "I can't believe I ever did that."

"It was hard for me to accept too." She said, willing the tears to stop. She wasn't crying much, just enough to make her sound like a fool. "We argued, and a part of me suspected, but it still hit me the same."

"If it was our last day, I wouldn't let it end. I'd stay with you until the sun rose. I wouldn't let you leave."

"But you were the one who left." She corrected.

"I'd keep you in bed, too satisfied to argue, too tired to move." He explained.

Kagome laughed, small and gentle. "You're treading dangerous territory, Inuyasha."

He couldn't deny it. "If it was my last day with you, what else would I do but keep you to myself?"

It would have been nice to have that knowledge.

~.~

There was something he was missing. Some pieces of time, some clue to his past. He knew it, but couldn't retrieve it. Inuyasha felt as if he was on the brink, on the verge of trying to work out whatever it was that held him back, but every time he thought about it too long his head ached and his vision went blurry.

The questions were the same; how could he hurt Kagome the way he did? How could he cheat, how could he leave her? The answers didn't come despite how hard he tried, and he wanted more than anything to know his reasons.

He felt like a fool, not knowing his history, still caught in the web of his own repercussions. If he only knew what had happened, maybe it would make things easier to repair.

Maybe not.

Maybe the pieces he was missing were not that important, but instead, his choices in the present that held the most weight. What was gone was gone, what happened had past, there was no changing that. But in this moment, in all those to come, he held power- the power to change, power to make things better, to fix the damage and wreck he inflicted. He needed to let what was missing remain forgotten and to look towards the future; why shouldn't it be full of opportunities? Spring always comes, even after the coldest winter, renewing lost hope, blossoming with promise. If the flowers could bloom after a frost, couldn't he find a way to melt the ice between them? Little by little, bit by bit.

What was missing didn't matter; he told himself that as he laid down, his head aching with a pain he was, unfortunately, becoming used to. That might change tomorrow; when the ringing in his ears ceased, when he woke up alone, he would probably spend the early hours pondering how his life had led him to crashing on Miroku's couch. Until then, he would think of Kagome, dreaming up ways he would win her back.