Day Four
Prompt: Ephemeral. Adjective. Lasting for a very short time.
Universe: (Post) Canon
Genre: Angst, Romance.
712 Words
Spring was the season of hope. The winter had been defeated, and the world was brimming with light and life once again.
Kagome sat on the veranda, cradling a ceramic cup in her hands.
Spring seemed to fill everyone with giddy excitement. But not her. She only felt a wistful melancholia.
Cherry blossoms were in full bloom, the most tangible sign of the change of season. People would flock to admire their beauty, revelling in it.
Kagome watched the blooming trees, their cloud-like branches swayed in the wind. The air was alive with a soft pink rain as the delicate petals fluttered to the ground.
She smiled ruefully.
The flowers were supposed to be a reminder of the fleeting nature of life, but looking at them, she could only think of death.
It had been nearly a century, but some days she still struggled. She looked down at her hands, wrapped around the teacup. They were callused in places, but they weren't wrinkled or trembling. Decades had passed by, without leaving physical marks on her, and on occasion that still unnerved her.
It did not feel right because she had been born a mortal. Time should have touched her.
But it hadn't.
Still, time had found other ways to get to her, it had stolen away some of her nearest and dearest.
Kaede had passed first and she had returned to Edo for the funeral.
She had stood by Sango's side when they had buried Miroku. She had been an old woman then, while Kagome… well.
Sango had been the next to go and Kagome had gone to bid her goodbye, surrounded by her children she had once played with and held in her arms. Now they were adults, with children of their own.
Rin had been one of the hardest to let go. She had been so full of life even when the years had bent her shoulders.
Kagome sighed. She did not regret her choices. She could not.
But some days, it was harder to cope with the consequences than on others.
Some days, it tore at her heart that she had watched all her friends grow old and die. Some days, it twisted in her gut to know that she would not age like she should.
Part of the cherry blossoms' beauty was how short-lived they were.
Another gust of wind picked up, filling the air with a new flurry of floating petals.
One landed in her tea, and Kagome frowned at it, pursing her lips.
"Mama!"
She turned, looking at the young child bounding towards her.
"There you are," she smiled at the girl. "Come watch the flowers with me."
The child obediently plopped down to her mother's lap. Kagome hugged her close, and ran her hand through her silken locks.
"I hope you haven't been bothering your father," she commented, noting how the child's hands were stained with black ink.
"She has not," Sesshoumaru replied, quietly padding to where his wife and daughter were sitting.
"It was a lesson!" the girl piped up excitedly.
Sesshoumaru sat down next to his wife and dug a scroll out of his sleeve.
"Here," he said, passing it over to Kagome.
She took it and examined the two wobbly kanji, the character standing for love and the one for life.
"It's my name!" the girl offered helpfully, beaming up at her mother.
"So it seems," Kagome hummed, smiling at her daughter. "Very well done, Mei, it looks lovely."
Mei let her brush and ruffle her hair for a while but started to fidget in her lap soon enough. The child was only able to sit still for so long.
Kagome let her go, and the girl ran to twirl under the gnarly trees, jumping to catch the leisurely falling petals in her small claws.
"Are you alright?" Sesshoumaru asked her in a low voice, scooting closer.
She glanced at him and reached to take his hand, her fingers curling around it tightly.
"Yes," she told him firmly.
He studied her for a moment in silence.
"I know that springtime sometimes makes you feel sad."
"It does, but I'm fine now that you're here," she said simply, and then turned to watch her daughter's childish antics, a smile playing on her lips.