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This late at night, little dreamers should be dreaming.
While night had fallen in a hushed veil, shrill cries from within the walls of their hut pierced Inuyasha’s eardrums and tugged at his heartstrings til they were close to snapping. He glanced over hunched shoulders at Kagome as she wiped away silvery tear streaks from reddened cheeks, their daughter weeping nigh inconsolably with no amount of songs or catering to soothe her. Guilt gnawed away with every pitched whine and hiccuping sob.
There had to be something they could do is what he told himself but he dared not insinuate that Kagome wasn’t trying hard enough. He could see the frays in her smile and the concern outweighed exhaustion’s weariness. Leg bouncing and uselessness weighing heavily on his head, Inuyasha ran through his thoughts for something he could do. His wife and child were both upset and he couldn’t just sit and listen to this.
Standing abruptly, Inuyasha abandoned the fire he’d been poking at for the better part of a half hour in hopes that the warmth would soothe Moroha, kneeling at Kagome’s side and opening his hands.
“I’ll take her on a walk around the village,” he said, his ears flattening to his head as another warbling cry erupted from Moroha’s lungs. Rin and Kaede weren’t kidding when they said she had strong ones either.
Kagome smoothed her fingers over her cheeks, catching tears on her fingertips, an almost thankful and worried look cast to him. “Are you sure?” She asked, her voice almost inaudible over Moroha’s weeping.
“Yeah, she’ll love it.” Inuyasha winced, glancing down at the weeping child whose skin seemed almost as red as his robes from how much she was wailing. “Besides, seen Sango and Miroku do it a thousand times.”
With a little bit of fussing and no small amount of wincing, Kagome helped to settle Moroha in his arms and he held her close with her head nestled against his chest. Absorbed in remembering Miroku’s assurances when holding a child and mindfulness of his own strength, Inuyasha startled when he noticed Kagome staring at him. Her gaze drifting down to Moroha then up to him, an unreadable look in her eyes that almost made him as nervous as their daughter’s crying.
“She’ll be alright, Kagome,” Inuyasha assured, puffing his chest just a bit. He could take care of his daughter at the very least, although the withering thought Kagome didn’t believe he could pricked holes in his confidence.
As if sensing his distress and answering it, Kagome shook her head. “That’s not it,” she murmured, undoing the shawl around her shoulders and tucking it around Moroha. Cooing softly to assuage her squirming and flailing limbs. Inuyasha sniffed. After so long spent in this time, Kagome’s scent had changed somewhat. No longer carrying the smell of metal but the humidity of the forests, grass and herbs mingling together in a refreshing calm. It was no wonder Moroha began to fuss harder. Kagome was a calm within a storm of emotions too big for someone so small, and the barest reassurance Inuyasha gleaned was washed out by his daughter’s wails.
“Here..” Kagome whispered, not a trace of annoyance in her voice as she lifted the shawl’s tassels to Moroha’s nose.
Inuyasha watched in amazement as Moroha sniffed once then twice before her wailing eased into a droning whine. It wasn’t perfect but a worn grin from Kagome told him it was enough. Leaning close to brush his nose against hers, a quiet gasp and hushed giggle brought a smile to Inuyasha’s face. A thanks pressed to Kagome’s cheek before he stood, cradling Moroha to him and cherishing these few seconds of hard-won peace.
He felt Kagome’s presence at his back as he slid open the door and glanced back at her. Her hands cupped the undersides of her elbows, arms tucked close to her body, but at meeting his eyes she raised a hand in a little wave. Hopes that she would sleep were dashed almost immediately. No doubt she’d stoke the flames and keep the light on to welcome them home.
Peeking over his shoulder every so often until he couldn’t make out Kagome’s silhouette against the doorway, Inuyasha sighed. The quiet night and his squirming daughter were a comfort even if he was trying to console her from waking the entire village and who knew what was in the forests. Wandering along a winding path, dirt cutting through grassy plains and beneath the low-hanging boughs of weeping willows, Inuyasha sighed and looked down to Moroha. Her golden eyes, wet and scalding with frustration, met his own as if daring him to say a word before she launched into another tirade.
Tough kid, she gets it from her.
Adjusting his hold on her, he brought her head to his shoulder to shield her from some of the falling leaves and a crisp breeze. His hand cupping the back of her head delicately. Mindful that this small life was worth so much more than he could apologize for if he made a mistake and hurt her.
Without anyone to judge him but the semi-somnolent dark and her, Inuyasha sighed raggedly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Moroha. Fuck, ki—”
Her whining seemed to quiet and he huffed a curse under his breath, remembering Kagome’s rule.
“Shit,” Inuyasha mumbled, glancing down at her as he eased her back to the crook of his arm. “Don’t tell your mom I cursed, okay?”
Her eyes brightened, laughter bubbling out of spittle-covered lips startling him.
“That funny to you?” Inuyasha asked, wiping away the spittle with his sleeve and bouncing her, feeling his concerns shift as she laughed louder. Lifting her up to the light of the moon cutting between crevices in the leaves, she seemed to glow and he was vaguely reminded of his wife. The ache to return home making him look over his shoulder. “Least one of us is laughing.”
Dusk was so quiet and with Moroha’s babbling and tugging against his robes, it was surreal. If he turned back and walked up the winding trail, he’d cut through a thicket and find himself on the path leading home. A home where a good woman was waiting for him and their daughter to return. Overlooking a village of people who either heralded or tolerated him. Much better than the court he was raised in and the forests he hid. Yet, there were friends who became family. Ones who cooed over his daughter, were unafraid to tease and poke at him, lent a hand when he was in tears or afraid.
He knew it. Had known it for years and yet it was no less overwhelming.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this..” Inuyasha whispered, stepping from beneath the weeping willow to look out over the village. It’s rice paddies, flooded for the coming harvest, glowed silver as if flooded with moonlight. It was too beautiful and peaceful for words.
“Any of this,” he muttered hoarsely. “Them.. Her..”
Moroha clutched at his sleeve and Inuyasha swallowed thickly.
“You.”
She was perfect. A personal bias, Miroku quipped. Simply part of being a father. And yet, she was. Inuyasha knew no matter how many mistakes this little life made, he would love her without question. There just was no other way of adding it up. She was every bit of him and Kagome spun up into someone entirely new.
“Feels like I’ve made a thousand mistakes, and hell if I know if I’m ever gonna be good enough f—” Inuyasha sighed bitterly. Looking down into curious eyes that lacked judgment or irritation at his mindless ramblings, only a vague concern that tugged at his heart. She really did look too much like her mother.
Don’t talk about yourself like that, Inuyasha.
He could practically hear Kagome and see her poking him square in the chest. Reminding him that he was good and deserved to be loved, drawing him in a hug when the emotions got too much.
A light touch to his cheek swept him from his thoughts, Moroha’s fingers brushing against the swell of his cheek and his eyes softened. Her own had returned to brown.
“Sorry, kid,” he murmured, nosing against her palm before dipping his head down, resting his forehead against hers. Tiny giggles bubble up and though it’s loud in his ears, he preferred this sound to her sobs. “I’m gonna do my best, okay?”
Half of the time, he was lost on what to do when she was sobbing. And he tried to listen more than act. Turning to Kagome or the others for help when he was pushed to his limits. But he was trying, they’d remind him, and that is what she’d remember over all his faults.
“Be the father you deserve... Cause I… I can’t be like him.”
In moments like this, he felt his father’s absence greatest. Questioned what it is he would’ve done. What he would have said to her. But he wasn’t there, he’d barely been a part of Inuyasha's own life — let alone his granddaughter's. Yet, he died for him and his mother, and for that he would always have his respect because now he understood. Kagome was more than worth his blood, sweat, and tears, and the child in his arms was worth dying for. Turning his gaze heavenward, his eyes stung with unshed tears. Was his mother looking down at him now? Seeing his struggles?
Would she be proud of him?
Another babble drew his ear back to Moroha and he sighed. He missed her terribly but even if she were here, even if his father had done everything right, they weren’t Moroha’s father. That was him. And if he had anything to say about it, it always would be him.
“I’m gonna do my best to give you more than a sword and a world of trouble…” He let her hands press against his cheeks, a small toothy smile his reward as she tugged at his hair. He’d spend the rest of his life trying to protect that smile.
“Let’s go home.”