Hanakotoba Matsuri 2025 Week 02: Liberation & Tenderness
Flower: Queen of Prairie (resilience)
Kingdom: Meadow
Trope: Grief


A pile of grass lay at her feet, her fingers covered in dirt, dried tears upon her cheeks. Lanterns shone in the distance, signalling the celebration was still in full swing, but the weight of her grief had been stifling, their smiles suffocating.

She'd had to get away.

Kagome had always been the strong one—the one who persevered no matter how bleak things got. She was the one encouraging others to keep fighting, to push through the darkness because she could see the light on the other side. They hadn't come out unscathed, but they'd beaten Naraku and the jewel, the three years separating her from her friends a tiny blip on their path to happiness.

Even after she'd returned and realized her love for Inuyasha had shifted, they'd remained friends, helping to rebuild the village into a place of peace and prosperity. Becoming anything but a healer had never crossed her mind, and she'd quickly settled into the role, offering herbal remedies as well as reiki-infused charms to anyone willing to help out in the village. And in her hubris, she'd forgotten the deadliest of killers.

Time.

It had been little things at first; she'd been asked to take on more responsibilities, travel to more towns. She'd thought it was just to get her name out there, so she wouldn't be referred to as the Shikon Miko anymore. It wasn't until the house calls completely disappeared that Kagome discovered the horrible truth.

Kaede was dying.

There was nothing to be done except make her comfortable. She'd lived longer than most of that era, staving off death until she was sure the village would survive without her. It came as a surprise to few; even Rin could still smile during her final moments. Those in attendance wished her luck in her new adventure, weathered hands squeezing each of theirs in turn.

Kagome had stood paralyzed in the corner of her hut, unable to speak, barely able to breathe as each of her friends said their goodbyes. She couldn't do it. With all they'd been through with the jewel, she'd somehow thought nothing could touch them, that they were immune to stupid things like old age. But even as the thought formed, she suddenly noticed the lines on Sango and Miroku's faces, the widened gate in Shippou's steps, the broadness of Kohaku's shoulders, and the lustre of Rin's hair.

They'd all grown older. Helpless to stop it as she had. Inuyasha's timeline was longer, but there would still be a final moment, and the thought of losing any more of them had her collapsing at Kaede's bedside, sobs wracking her body.

Had nothing they'd done made a difference?

"Do not let my death be the leash that binds ye to this place, Kagome," Kaede whispered, patting her head. "There are more than enough people here to help the village thrive."

She hadn't believed her at first, but in the days following Kaede's death, life had continued. There were sombre moments, and even a few sniffles, but the notion of celebrating Kaede's life and all her accomplishments had revitalized them. Everyone in the village had participated, and the celebration would likely last days, considering the volume behind her.

She pulled out another blade, but the wind caught it before she could crumple it at her feet. It twirled above her, then sailed east, and Kagome bit back her next round of tears.

Kaede was right. The village would thrive, but Kagome wouldn't. If she stayed, it would only tighten the so-called leash, so she knew she had to leave.

She thought about returning to the celebration, to create one more good memory, but knew that she couldn't. They'd somehow convince her to stay, that she shouldn't let her mourning affect such a significant decision, but it was more than that. She needed to leave. She needed to leave now.

She would send word once she'd settled. The time alone would give her clarity on what she wanted to do next—on what would make her happy.

That would be the legacy she carried on.

Getting to her feet, Kagome felt a new sense of purpose. It was small but strong and would only grow the more work she put into it.

She would thrive.


There hadn't been a specific destination in mind. She'd wandered to the neighbouring village before sending word back to her friends that she was safe but travelling. She'd specifically left her location out of the letter—and addressed it to Sango—so they wouldn't follow her. She'd even told the innkeeper to wait until nightfall to send it out so she could get a head start.

Others would see it as avoidance, but right now, she just needed space. Space to think, space to grieve.

Space to cope.

The freedom of helping those she came across without tying herself to any specific location helped for a little while, but Kagome was an emotional creature and knew she'd have to settle at some point.

Some point came in the form of a poisoned wolf pup. He'd confused two types of berries, earning himself a fever and constant vomiting before Kagome administered an antidote, which had earned her several scratches.

When the fever broke, and the boy realized she meant him no harm, he pointed her in the direction of a cluster of caves. His mother was close to hysterics, offering her heartfelt thanks, as well as bandages for her arms.

Kagome didn't think much of it. She'd been bandaged countless times before, going as far as using her own clothing to staunch the bleeding, but had woken to a scuffle at the cave's entrance on the morning she'd planned to leave.

"Where is she?" someone yelled. "I could smell her blood from the trees!"

Various murmurs told the male to calm down, and Kagome rubbed her eyes, slowly emerging from the small den the pup's mother, Satomi, had set her up in. "What's going on? Is someone else hurt?" she asked.

A pair of familiar blue eyes blinked in her direction before Satomi smacked him upside the head. "I told you to keep your voice down! The pups keep her up all hours of the night. Humans need sleep."

Kouga looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. "I thought she was hurt," he mumbled.

"I'd like to think I'm stronger than a few scratches," Kagome said.

Ginta and Hakkaku put a hand on each of Kouga's shoulders. "Not even back five minutes, and you've already dug yourself a hole," Ginta said.

Groaning, Kouga shook them off, then closed the distance between them. "You sure you're alright?"

Kagome held up her bare arms, the cuts having fully healed. "Satomi did a great job bandaging me up. Not a mark to be seen."

He gave a curt nod, though he barely looked at her arms. "Are you staying?"

The refusal stilled on her tongue. She'd packed up her things the night before, ready to head out as soon as her body had recharged, but something in his expression had her changing her mind, and she gave a single nod. "For a little while."

He lit up but, to her surprise, didn't touch her. Instead, he turned to the rest of his pack, grinning broadly. "Sounds like we'll have lots to celebrate tonight!"

Satomi gave her a questioning glance, but Kagome merely shrugged. A few more days wouldn't hurt.


Rain continued to pour, the sound echoing against the walls in a symphony of syncopated rhythms. A spring drought had finally ended, the gods answering their call by unleashing a torrential downpour that blackened the sky and sent most scurrying for shelter.

Kagome loved it. Her hands and feet were numb—hands from the cold, feet from her seated position—but with the fur curled around her shoulders, she barely felt it. Most of the pack was asleep, or at least deep within their dens that the sound of their chatter was cut off by winding, underground pathways.

It was peaceful.

Kouga found her, as he often did, but didn't say anything, content to listen to the rain as well. His hair was down, armour missing as he only wore it when hunting, and he offered her another fur. Kagome shook her head, gripping the one around her shoulders.

A few days had turned into a few months, and though the thought of not moving on had initially panicked her, she found the routine of the wolves a welcome balm to her otherwise weary soul. There actually wasn't a routine at all, with most of them being purebloods, which was probably why it hadn't bothered her so much.

She'd eventually revealed to Sango where she was, but the slayer had kept it a secret, telling the others she was safe and happy. Kagome wasn't sure what the second word meant anymore. She was content, and her basic needs were being met, but it felt like ages since she'd smiled.

Kaede's death still weighed heavily on her shoulders, and she'd yet to be able to put it into words. Kouga knew something was off, but he'd been surprisingly accommodating. He tried to engage her in as much of the pack life as possible, but he also made sure everyone left her alone until she was ready for company.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was sitting cross-legged, relaxing back on his hands, but his eyes were closed, ears twitching occasionally. He was so different from the boisterous, pigheaded teenager that had kidnapped her during their search for the shards. She still wasn't sure how youkai aging worked, but she knew Kagura's attack on his pack had forced him to grow up quicker than he'd planned.

They'd all had so many brushes with death. How did he continue his day-to-day routine when the slightest thing could snuff him out? There were few elders in the pack, as they resided further up the mountain, where they were less likely to encounter harsher threats. Kouga had offered to introduce her, but Kagome had vehemently refused. She didn't need any more reminders of how short life was.

"Do you ever worry about death?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, her worry manifesting.

One eye opened, and he surveyed her slowly before sitting up fully. "Death is a part of life," he replied.

Kagome bit her bottom lip. She should've known he'd view it as simply as that. Watching the rain should've been enough. She didn't need to bring her existential crisis into it. A scratching noise caught her attention, and she looked back at him, frowning as he started drawing lines in the dirt.

"Everyone has a timeline. Some are longer than others," he explained, pointing to one that arched above the others, "but even the shortest ones can be more fulfilling." He gave her a lopsided grin. "Some of the old timers might argue they've seen too much." He added a doodle of a bushy face with angry eyebrows to one. "All depends on whatcha do with it while you're here."

She wanted to leave it at that. It should've been enough, but as she looked over the lines, her heart clenched. "I wonder what mine looks like." Her voice trailed off as a gust of wind splattered their feet with raindrops. Kagome sighed, pulling her knees up to her chin, but Kouga got to his feet, holding out his hand.

"I can show ya," he said. She blinked, having lost track of the conversation, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Your timeline. Let me show you." It was more of a request than a demand, giving her enough space to decline, but curiosity overrode any lingering apprehension, and her hand slid into his.

There was a flash of something in his eyes, but it was gone before she could name it. Still holding onto her hand, he motioned her to his back, easily picking her off the ground. Kagome slid her arms around his neck, the heat of his skin quelling the chill brought on by the storm.

"Hold on tight," he said, making sure to trap the fur under his arms as well to keep her protected. She nodded against his shoulder, and then they were flying. Water hit her cheeks, wind whipping her hair around, and Kagome buried her face against his back for shelter. She didn't even mind the rain, but there was something comforting about his scent that had her drawing nearer.

He ran for several minutes, and considering his speed, they could've been anywhere. It wasn't until the rain ebbed that Kagome finally lifted her head, taking in their surroundings.

The rain hadn't actually stopped; they'd just taken shelter under a massive ginkgo tree, its tangled branches protecting them from the downpour. As loathed as she was to release him, Kagome slid down Kouga's back and found her footing on one of the roots at the tree's base.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Colour dusted Kouga's cheeks. "I'm not very good at metaphors, but I figured this was the easier than tryin' to explain it with lines in the dirt." He patted the tree. "This is your timeline."

Kagome raised an eyebrow. The tree was in the centre of a small meadow, the surrounding forest several metres away. "Because I'm strong and can survive by myself?" she asked automatically. The story was always the same.

Kouga's cocked his head, genuinely confused. "No. Because you protect everyone else." He motioned to the sea of wildflowers and ivy crawling over the tree's roots. "See that? Those are all the people that you've helped. You protect them from the rain and bugs and all kinds of shit. They'd never have survived without you."

Her heart sped up, and Kagome gripped her chest. The flowers tapered off the further away from the tree they got, the largest blooms directly underneath its branches.

"Doesn't matter how long this tree is here for," he continued. "All these flowers are here because it was here. Even after it disappears, the flowers will be here. The meadow will never be the same."

The spray of cool rain was replaced with hot tears as she broke down, chest heaving as she threw herself at him. Kouga caught her easily, though she could sense his surprise. She wrapped her arms around him, shoulders trembling as she gripped him tightly. His hands eventually found her back, fingers running through her hair and down her spine.

She'd been focusing so much on the end that she'd completely forgotten about the middle and all those affected by her existence.

Kaede would never be forgotten. Her memory lived on in all who knew her. Sango would be the same, the slayer village continuing to flourish under the tutelage of her children.

Their legacy would never die.

"I never thought you'd get sentimental over a tree," Kouga mused.

Kagome snorted, refusing to release him. "When did you get so wonderful?"

She could sense his grin without looking up. "I've always been this way," he said, slowly clicking his tongue as he looked into the distance. "You've just been busy."

She stilled in his arms, slowly pulling back enough to look at him—really look at him. He was right. He'd matured, but he hadn't changed; she'd just been ignoring it. She hadn't been ready to truly see him. "I'm sorry."

Kouga shook his head. "I wasn't expectin' anything from you, Kags. Sure, you showin' up outta nowhere had my hopes high, but you've been sad lately, so I didn't push it." His fingers drew calming circles on her back, but he didn't pull her closer, didn't force her to accept what he was so willing to give, and it only made her cry harder.

Now he was panicking, wiping away her tears as best he could without catching her with his claws. Kagome caught one hand, holding it against her cheek as her vision cleared. "How long are you willing to wait?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Kouga's eyes widened, steam rising off tanned skin. When she didn't falter, didn't look away, he gave her an incredulous look. "Forever." Kagome rolled her eyes, but he motioned to the tree behind them. "This thing's over a hundred years old! What's a few more, give or take?"

She shook her head. Why had she expected anything less? He'd been willing to steal her to protect his pack and then willing to steal for her to prove his worth. Why wouldn't he be willing for eternity for her to finally notice him?

"Thank you," she said. The smile felt foreign, as she couldn't remember the last time she'd done it, but she had a feeling she'd be doing it around him a lot more often.

He stared at her for a moment before colour bloomed over the bridge of his nose. He cupped her face, thumb stroking the curve of her jaw as his expression softened. "There's my woman."

Her face soon sported a matching colour, but the smile never wavered. She intertwined their fingers as they sat against the tree, content to listen to the rain. She eventually leaned against him, his arm sliding around her shoulders, and she squeezed his hand.

The weight hadn't lifted completely, but her wanderlust had quelled. Now the healing could begin.