THEY

They had a story, I know they had, although I'm ignorant to the details. I asked Myoga a few times, and his answers were always a mix of rambling and sighing about how much they loved one another. Sometimes, when I was young, I'd reverie in how would they be back then, how would they interact.

Would they look into each other's eyes? Would they be delighted to have me?

My mother loved me, of that, I'm sure.

With time I stopped asking myself questions which wouldn't find any answers and dedicated myself to live, then survive. A while later, Kagome arrived, and I began to live once more.

Now I look at my partner, she is seating on the grass as she holds our little girl's hands, who has but recently began seating alone. In this moment I can't help think, when I was her age, that my mother would probably do something similar with me, and that her gaze would be as bright as Kagome's right now, and I myself would stare at her with the curious admiration Moroha directs towards her mother. I guess if my father had been alive back then, he'd have treasured images like these the same way I'm doing now.

Sometimes, when I let my mind wander through my illusory ideas of them, I try to elucidate how much I've inherited from both. Many believe that having the inherited human feelings of my mother is my weakness, and I myself believed so for a while, however I've come to know the strength behind the human emotions and there is no weakness in them. There is also those who have said that to cherish an inferior race like the humans was what took my father to his grave. In this moment, as three very different beings such as us are sharing the same love, I believe my parents didn't suffer nor one nor the other, they were just two beings who loved each other, in that romantic way Myoga usually narrates, but they also did so while feeling the hopelessness, sadness and deep fear that comes with the uncertainty of the future.

I approach a few steps near those two beautiful lights that accompany my life; Kagome smiles, Moroha stills looks at me, moves her little nose to recognize me and smiles an instant later.

My parents had a story and I'm still ignorant to its details. Their end was sad, yet stories are also what one lives between the lines. When I imagine them, I like to think in my father gazing sweetly at my mother as she smiles, the same way I'm looking at Kagome right now.

"What's the matter?" she asks.

"I only imagined." My answers places ideas in her mind I can almost see flutter and shine in her eyes.

I kneel before her, then take her expression in my hands. I focus on her eyes, her deep brown eyes. She keeps her soft smile, just before I cover it with a kiss.

They had a story, and like all stories that are lived amongst love, it must have been beautiful.

N/A

A tiny moment of love inspired by a picture of Toga and Izayoi that Len posted.

Kisses

Anyara.

This text is possible thanks to the translation of: Dezart