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He'd left that morning with Miroku, which meant at least three days of his absence. Kagome used to hate those times, alone in their hut and just simply waiting for him to come home. During the day wasn't bad, easily distracted by duties and responsibilities that busied her body and mind. It was at night that it was difficult, so used to being warmed by his presence and secured in his arms - it had become their norm.
She'd never asked him how he felt while he was away; but, if the desperation that typically surrounded him when he came home was enough to go on, she could guess he felt fairly similarly.
Now, however, as she ran a comb through her daughter's long, raven hair, it was a little easier to be without him at night. It was one of the only selfish things she allowed herself, this time with Moroha that was uninterrupted and solely their own. There was no question that the bond between Inuyasha and his daughter was one that stood out as the more obvious one to most - much to everyone's surprise. It meant that Moroha typically craved Inuyasha's attention more that her mother's, as it always had been. There wasn't an ounce of jealousy in Kagome's heart when it came to that favoritism - how could there be? To see the two of them happy, Inuyasha as a tremendous father to their daughter, she wouldn't have it any other way.
Besides, it made perfect sense as to why the father and daughter's bond was so close, they were practically the same person.
Even though Moroha always became slightly depressed at her father's departures, there was a part of her that became excited to have some time alone with her mother. Being the village miko meant Kagome was more consistently absent throughout the days and even the nights if a birth was on its way. Yes, Inuyasha would be gone for the occasional long stint of time, but on a mundane day, Inuyasha would be patrolling the perimeter of the village and would happily take Moroha with him if he felt it safe enough.
With her daughter seated cross legged in front of her, dressed in her sleep yukata, Kagome remained knelt behind her. Just like her father's, tangles weren't necessarily an issue and the texture of her hair was like that of silk, as if it were permanently conditioned.
"Mama," the tiny voice broke through their comfortable silence, a hint of questioning in the word.
"Yes, amai hikari, [1]" a mother's voice if anyone ever heard one, similar to her own mother's - a piece of Kagome's time that she was able to take back with her. As her voice was similar, so was her motherly instinct, having heard that questioning edge, "What is it?"
Moroha remained silent for a moment, pondering her question as if she were afraid to ask, "Can I brush your hair?" The last stroke of the comb slowed some, heart melting at the question as Kagome watched her daughter peer over her shoulder with a slight sense of hesitance.
With a bright, yet gentle, smile, Kagome nodded as she handed Moroha her the small, wooden comb she used to brush out the girl's (and sometimes her husband's, should he permit it) hair every night before bed, "Of course," she chirped, watching the young girl climb to her feet and walk around to stand behind Kagome, needing to do so in order to reach the top of her mother's head, "Be gentle," a tender warning that was met with an unseen nod from her daughter.
A timid hand sectioned off a piece of much longer hair than her own, almost hitting the floor when her Kagome sat on her knees; it had grown much since coming back from her time, finding hair cuts in this time period to be too blunt, otherwise. Taking the comb, she ran the teeth from the root to the ends, only grabbing one snag along the way that easily untangled, "Did your mama brush your hair when you were little?"
The question left a small pang in Kagome's gut, being taken by surprise by it and the weight of the contents, even though Moroha didn't know just how much. Her shoulders and spine tensed, straightening her spine for a brief moment as she let the small, re-opened wound ease into a dull ache. It took a moment for her to release the breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Sorry, mama. Did I hurt you?" Moroha removed the comb from Kagome's hair, having assumed that she pulled too hard to cause such a reaction. Kagome's heart warmed at the question, shaking her head lightly before peering over her shoulder towards her daughter with reassurance.
"No, Moro. You can keep brushing."
It had been a long time since she'd felt that sense of loss when it came to the family she'd left behind. Though she never once regretted it, both she and everyone knew that there would always been an ever so small hole in her heart where the memory of her family resided. It was difficult to stay upset about it, especially now that she'd grown a family of her own with the one person who meant most to her in the world - or used to anyways. When she thought she had no more of her heart to give, that Inuyasha had taken all of it, Moroha was brought into the world and she realized she'd only given him a small part of her heart in comparison.
"And yes, my mom used to brush my hair all of the time when I was your age. It was our special time together, especially when your uncle was born." With a sad smile of fondness, she closed her eyes and simply allowed the touch of her daughter's overly gentle hands continue to run the comb through her hair, "Not only that, she'd put my hair in braids or pony tails before school every day, until I got too old for it." But she'd never been too old for it, even when she was in her mid to late teens. When her mother could tell her heart was aching for the hanyou she never thought she'd see again, her mother would offer to brush her hair out of comfort and Kagome would always accept.
It was almost like Moroha could read her mind, her reply holding such conviction as if it couldn't be refuted, "I don't think anyone is too old to have their mama brush their hair." Kagome couldn't help but let a small, warm laugh leave her, heart warming through the ache of memories. Through all of the attributes that her father had given her, it seemed Moroha had gained her mother's insight and wisdom that spread beyond her years.
"I think you're right," Kagome's tone had become lighter, eyes opening and reflecting the warm spread of happiness that blanketed over her heart like a compress.
"I hope I get to meet your mama, someday - she seems really nice. I know papa's mama is dead, but I would have liked to have met her, too," Moroha almost spoke to herself, as if she were pondering her thoughts out loud. It caused a heavy sigh to leave Kagome, knowing that there was almost no possible way that she could meet any of her real grandparents.
"Me too, Moro," Kagome reached behind her to grip her daughter's wrist to remove the comb from her hair, only to turn to face the small girl who she was blessed enough to call her daughter.
Gingerly, she took the comb from Moroha's hand placed it on a nearby chest before taking both of her daughter's hands in her own. They were so small, but held so much within them - the hearts of two of the most powerful beings in Japan - and she didn't even know it, "Even though you've never met, know that my mama loves you very much," the words were said with a sad smile attached.
"Do you miss her?"
As well as insight and wisdom, it was evident that Moroha had also gained her mother's unwavering accuracy in the ability to read people. It was getting hard to keep her heart from aching, that compress only a temporary fix for a long-standing wound. Kagome's eyes welled up at the thought but she quickly swallowed them down. However, it wasn't fast enough as a stray tear rolled down her cheek. Even still, the same pair of eyes meet one another - in that sense she was her mother's daughter - and Kagome give an affirmative nod, "Yes." Letting go of one of Moroha's hands, Kagome lifted her own to cup the small girl's cheek, "But, if I'd stayed with her, I wouldn't have been able to be with your papa and have you." Nothing truer could ever leave her lips, as her life now had been exactly what she'd dreamed of and yearned for. It had almost been ripped away from her completely once, leaving her feeling empty. Incomplete. As if she'd left a large part of herself here while she was back in her time for those three excruciating years.
At the time, it hurt but she'd managed to find some semblance of distraction by diving into her studies and aiming to graduate. But when she looked back, they were some of the darkest years of her life and she would have fallen into a darker place, if it hadn't been for her family.
The day she left, when the well opened and allowed her another chance at the life she'd left behind unwillingly, it was only her mother who had sent her off. As hard as it must have been to let her go, Kagome was sure of one thing, "And I know she's happy for me, and that's all a mother really wants, is for her children to be happy."
"I'm happy, mama," Moroha couldn't help but reach one of her small hands out to cup her mother's cheek, wiping away that rogue tear as Kagome had for her countless of times, "Don't cry."
With one sniffle, Kagome's smile spread wide across her face as she pulled Moroha's face close to her own, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting her own against it. It only last for a few moments before Moroha wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and held her close in a tight squeeze. There was no hesitation as Kagome wrapped her own arms around her daughter, pulling her just as tight against her. It was as if Moroha was her lifeline in that moment, cradling the back of her head affectionately as she slowly rocked the two of them side to side. Never did she regret her decision to come back, that solidified in her heart and embedded in her every being - this was undoubtedly where she belonged and had been destined to stay. But, Kagome knew it was fair to feel sadness and longing for her family back in her birth time - she'd always been good at compartmentalizing and acknowledging her feelings and realizing there was no shame in it.
"Papa would be mad at me, if he knew I made you cry."
The attempt to lighten the mood had Kagome chuckling lowly, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple, "No he wouldn't," she assured; Inuyasha was practically incapable of being angry with Moroha, though he would discipline her if it really came down to it - but it was rarely ever out of anger.
"Yuh-huh!" Moroha protested, separating herself form her mother by pushing against her chest. There it was, a flash of seeing the unmistakable replica of her husband staring back at her with such unwavering determination, "He gets mad at anyone who makes you cry!"
Moroha had seen it a few times, though it wasn't ever in what her father said but in how he acted; how he got quiet and his words got short. It was even worse when it was Inuyasha himself that had made her cry, though the young girl had only ever witnessed that one and (hopefully) only time it happened. She didn't know what it was about, she never did when it came to why exactly her mom cried, but she always knew it was the reason her dad got angry.
"You're an exception, amai hikari," Kagome stated with just as much confidence, though held within a gentle tone, "Besides, you didn't make me cry - no one did. It just happens, especially when you miss someone you really care about. Like how you used to cry when papa would leave like he did today - you miss him, right?"
"Yeah, but it's not so bad anymore because I know he comes back."
Kagome's heart swelled at that, knowing full well that Inuyasha would do anything and everything he could to make sure that he would come home to them - their daughter must have known that, too, and that made it even sweeter.
"But I'd still cry if I didn't know if I'd ever see him again..." the continuation was smaller in timbre, melancholy in nature, "Or you, mama." The warmth of her daughter's touch cupping her cheek as she mimicked what Kagome had done earlier by pressing a small kiss to the middle of her forehead. Happily, she miko leaned into the touch, lips still wide and chest warm from the affection she was receiving from her daughter.
To most, Moroha had an edged exterior and was extremely combative when she wanted to be. Rarely did she cry when she got hurt (excluding the incident with the bee-sting [2]), whether that be a scraped knee or a bruise to the shin, she barely let her pain show. Just as her father was, she didn't wear her heart anywhere on her sleeve and concealed her true emotions from those who didn't know her well. To those who were close, they knew of the soft bubbliness beneath that she'd inherited from her mother. Even then, no one really got to see her this soft. Once again Kagome was the only one who could tame such a wild heart; once as a lover and the other as a mother.
"Oh, Moro - " Kagome began, unable to fathom just how herself and Inuyasha would feel if anything happened to the small girl who stood in front of her. The two of them viewed her as if she were a miracle, simply blessing their lives with her presence.
Brushing Moroha's bangs from her face, Kagome continued to pet over the crown of her head and down to the back of her head, "Papa and I would miss you more than anything in this world, if something happened."
She didn't even want to think about it.
With a sharp sigh, she banished the thought from her mind, changing the subject to something lighter; letting go of Moroha, she climbed to her feet, "Why don't we go onto the roof and I'll tell you more about the stars." The burning fire in front of them couldn't compare to how her daughter's face lit up at the suggestion, "Go grab your blanket and I'll grab the ladder."
Lying on the roof, Moroha's head nested against Kagome's chest as the miko tried to explain the constellations and their meanings. The sound of her voice was soothing, almost enough to have the shihanyou falling asleep if she wasn't invested in the topic at hand. There were things her mother knew about what no one else seemed to, things about the stars and the moon - how the world worked. As fascinating as it all was, it was often that Moroha thought about how Kagome could know so much - more than Kaede-baba, who had been around for a very long time. She'd asked her papa once and his answer was nothing but vague, brushing her off slightly by telling her that she'd found out when she was older. That answer was far from satisfying and only had the child even more curious.
"That's Aries; your star sign!" Kagome stated, smiling brightly as she felt her daughter's head leave her breast and try to scan to sky to find just where she was pointing, "Just there - see those four stars?" Squinting her eyes, Moroha finally strung the stars together as Kagome's hand had motioned before nodding excitedly.
"Yeah! I see them! Where's yours, mama?"
Kagome scanned the sky, trying to see where it was before spotting it, "It's hard to see because the stars are so far apart, but it's close to yours."
This time Moroha couldn't see them, giving a disappointed pout and a soft whimper at the realization. As soon as she was going to voice that disappointment, Kagome interrupted with her same excited tone, "Look, a shooting star! Better make a wish."
Sitting up to match her daughter's stance, the two of them closed their eyes and made their wishes, allowing a few moments of silence to pass through to emphasize the sound of nature. Crickets chirped as the sound of a nearby owl echoed from behind the brush; it paired so nicely with the sound of the wind passing through the trees. Kagome thought of how foreign those sounds were back in her time, how all she would hear instead would be that of sirens, engines and the consistent white noise that always hummed of industry.
"Did you make your wish?" Kagome asked as she opened her eyes and peered down towards the small child pressed against her side.
"Yeah, but I can't tell you what it is!" It was almost defensive, as if she thought Kagome would pry and try to get an answer out of her. Instead, all Kagome did was give a warm hum of acknowledgement as she lay back down and pulled Moroha back against her.
As Moroha began to doze off to the sound of her mother's voice, she couldn't help but repeat the wish in her head.
I wish mama could see her mama again...