A/N: Originally posted to IB4Y.2 for their prompt Garden. It was placed second.
Kagome had built a small garden next to her herb patch. Whenever she needed a break from feudal Japan, from a demanding child and an obstinate husband, she used to go through the ivy archway and sit upon a smooth stone set among the fragrant grass, between the peonies and chrysanthemums.
Nobody knew what magic the garden worked on her, but in a few hours' time she would come back home – refreshed and smiling.
When she became too ill to step out of the house Rin took charge of the garden, making sure to keep things exactly as Kagome had wanted. On her way back she would gift the miko a wreath woven from her favourite peonies and chrysanthemums.
As time went on, the garden became the site for Sayako's late night trysts with her lover, hiding among the flowers, trying to camouflage their scents and avoid detection by the girl's over-protective hanyou father.
In the last years of his life, Miroku would often go there in search of serenity. He would tend to the garden and spend hours meditating upon the stone set in the grass, between the peonies and chrysanthemums.
One day Inuyasha decided to pay a visit to the garden.
He had just buried his best friend, the monk. Kagome and Sango were long gone; the children had moved far away. Utterly alone and without a familiar face to console him, he went to find solace in the simple plot of land that had, over the years, fascinated so many of his loved ones.
As he passed through ivy gate, he sharply drew his breath – it was as if time had gone back sixty years. In a moment, he was a young husband again, secretly spying on his wife as she sat upon the stone, lost in thoughts. The breeze was playing with her hair and the moonlight had set her in an ethereal glow.
He looked outside to make sure someone wasn't playing a trick on him. But there was nobody there – just the lonely path stretching into the horizon and modern houses harbouring rank strangers. He turned his gaze away.
Inside the garden, history was still living, still breathing. The quest for the shards, the battle against Naraku, the wait for Kagome, their wedding, the birth of their daughter – inside this garden it was all real, all fresh.
At that moment he realized that the garden, like him, was nothing but the relic of a bygone era; neither had a place in the real world. They were aberrations that had withstood the ravages of the passing time, while everything around them had changed and withered away. Both had a long life to live – a frighteningly endless future full of nothing, while their best years were already behind them. Both were trying to hold on to a moment in life that had already vanished. Tears sprang into his ancient eyes and rolled down his youthful face.
The wind lamented mournfully between the peonies and chrysanthemums.