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This was the fifth time in five minutes Kagome had stabbed herself with a needle and she was sick of hunting down bandaids.
In fact, she mused, glancing down at her index finger which was now sporting a surprisingly large bead of blood, she was almost sick of this entire embroidery debacle. Almost. Kagome popped the finger into her mouth before she accidentally got blood on her clothes, pushing back from the kitchen table to get yet another bandaid. She’d have to remind her mother to put them on the shopping list for the next time she went to the store at the rate she was burning through them.
Heading upstairs to the bathroom, finger still in her mouth, Kagome stood on tiptoes and scrabbled for the medicine box with one hand. It was at times like this she actually wished Inuyasha had followed her back through the well, even if it was only to harangue her about “getting her butt back to hunt shards.” He was stubbornly, endearingly concerned about her, and she knew that even while cussing her clumsiness out, he’d still be in the bathroom fetching bandaids for her poor finger. But today it was just her, and after a good amount of straining and grunting — she had shoved the box way too far back on the top shelf — Kagome managed to tip the case into her waiting hand. This time, she’d just bring the whole thing back to the kitchen, because kami knew with her luck she was likely to stab herself a few more times.
The thought of Inuyasha plonking her down at the table, cursing even more as he tried to unpeel a thin, sticky strip to wrap around her finger with his claws, brought a small smile to her face. It would be just like him: Gruff, caring, irritable, sweet. Stubborn. Very, very stubborn.
They’d had a little spat just before she came back. Inuyasha didn’t understand why she was insisting she needed to go back to her time, because this time last year Kagome had said her school was on “ho-li-day” and that there were no classes. She’d tried to put Inuyasha off with excuses — she had a makeup exam, her school had changed its schedule — but she could tell he didn’t believe her. Eventually things had escalated, like they always did, and he’d shouted “fine, go back wench, see if any of us wait for you to come back” and she’d yelled “osuwari” (four times for good measure) and stormed off.
Because how could she tell Inuyasha that she needed to go back to her time to make him a Christmas present?
With a sigh, Kagome deftly stuck the bandaid over the tip of her finger. Now all five digits sported matching injuries that left them tender and sore. Inuyasha’d better appreciate all the work she was putting into this, she thought darkly.
If he even accepted it at all. Maybe he wouldn’t, after their fight.
Shaking her head, Kagome refocused on the snarls of yarn in front of her, squinting to try and unpick a few tiny, stubborn knots, wiggling the point of the needle under a particularly tight thread until it loosened enough she could grasp it with her fingernails and tug until it once again laid straight. Maybe she’d cut her thread too long…?
What possessed her to try and embroider something, again? Oh, right, because somehow she’d gotten it in her head that if she gifted Inuyasha something homemade, he’d magically understand all of the feelings she tried to keep tucked away in the corners of her heart. Shippo, Sango, and Miroku were easy — Shippo would get a massive pile of candy; for Sango, she was bringing a few bars of delicate, rose-scented soap; and Miroku was getting a couple dirty magazines she’d secretly bought from the konbini (she knew she shouldn’t encourage his lecherous tendencies, but it was Christmas after all).
But Inuyasha was special. Kagome wanted her gift for him to be special, too. And she was pretty sure Kikyo had never given him something handmade, which meant she could claim this “first.”
She’d spent a disgusting amount of time agonizing over what to make, getting distracted and stumbling over tree roots and rocks as they walked through the forest, brain too occupied with this idea or the other. Even Inuyasha had noticed her extra dose of clumsiness, and had insisted on carrying her for a few hours “because it would do them no good if she got herself hurt.”
The problem was that so many of the usual tokens a girl gave a guy she liked just wouldn’t work for Inuyasha. He’d only lose a handkerchief, and a scarf would just be a hazard during the semiregular skirmishes they seemed to find themselves in on the road. She didn’t think he’d want a hat or gloves (plus, she was rubbish at knitting, anyways).
Finally, Kagome had landed on the idea of embroidering something on a pair of sport wristbands — something she could personalize without needing to make completely from scratch. She figured he could wear them on his wrists under the sleeves of his suikan easily, and they wouldn’t get in the way when he fought or hunted.
And every time he swung the Tessaiga, it would be like a little piece of her was supporting him, lending him strength even though she was usually the one being saved.
As soon as she’d gotten through the well (and before she could talk herself out of the idea), Kagome had gone and bought several pairs of black wristbands from a nearby sports equipment shop (they weren’t expensive), and skeins of embroidery floss, a needle, and a small embroidery hoop from a dollar store. She’d checked out a book on beginner’s embroidery from the library and stared at diagrams of how to do a satin stitch and a stem stitch and a French knot until her eyes crossed.
She was trying to embroider a little styrofoam container of instant ramen on one — it was practically a rectangle, which should have been easy, right? — and a few doggie paw prints on the other, which Kagome hoped Inuyasha would find cute, rather than insulting.
And on the inside of them both, she was tucking a tiny, red heart. Something that would rest close to the pulse point of his wrist. Something that would also go straight to his own heart. Maybe. She hoped.
And if he didn’t even notice the hearts, well, Kagome could live with the status quo. But she still had to finish them both, first. Her tongue poking out in concentration, Kagome bent her head back to the task of threading the floss through the too-tiny eye of the needle.
She didn’t notice the shadow of two little dog ears poking above the first-floor window sill that looked into the Higurashi kitchen...
———
Heaving her stuffed yellow pack (she didn’t know how Santa Claus managed to do this every year, if his sack of gifts was anything like hers) over the rim of the Bone-Eater’s Well back in the feudal era with a grunt, Kagome clambered back into what had become a winter wonderland.
She’d only been gone a day, but in her absence a thick layer of fluffy white snow had fallen, coating the landscape in white. The branches of the trees looked like they were frosted, and Kagome could see her breath come out in little puffs, wafting up into the bleached blue sky. If she’d known it was going to snow, she’d have brought better shoes — already the wet was soaking into the leather of her usual loafers. Well, maybe Kaede would have something she could borrow. At least she’d worn a jacket and thick woolen tights under her skirt.
Hoisting her pack over her shoulders, Kagome started trudging toward the village, looking forward to huddling up by the irori in Kaede’s cottage and warming her quickly numbing fingers, toes, and ears.
The only sound as she walked was the crunch of snow under her feet. Kagome looked around, but she couldn’t see or hear Inuyasha anywhere. Maybe he was hiding? Or maybe he really was mad at her…
Still, she made good time to Kaede’s, and after knocking the worst of the snow from the bottom of her shoes, Kagome flung open the door with a cheerful “I’m back!”
Immediately, she was greeted by the delighted exclamations of Sango and Miroku. Shippo, per usual, launched himself at her, snuggling contentedly into her arms.
“You weren’t gone very long, Kagome,” Sango said once she’d settled herself around the sunken hearth, steaming bowl of broth cupped gratefully in both hands. Shippo was now curled up at her side.
“I really only had to run a quick errand,” Kagome said, “I didn’t plan to be gone long at all.”
“I thought you had a school thing?” Sango pressed.
Kagome grimaced, acknowledging her fib. “Well...not quite. Actually, I wanted to get Christmas gifts for you all and didn’t want Inuyasha to know because it’s usually supposed to be a surprise.”
“Christ-mas?”
“Oh that’s right, Sango, I forgot we hadn’t met you yet this time last year!” Kagome exclaimed, realizing her friend had no idea what she was talking about.
“It’s a pagan holiday from Kagome’s time,” Miroku cut in. “A big, fat man breaks into your house and leaves you gifts that you then give to other people in honor of a magic baby’s birthday.” He nodded superiorly, pleased with his breakdown of the festivities.
The two girls blinked at Miroku. “Close enough,” Kagome finally said, making a mental note to explain Christmas to Sango properly later. Clearly her previous description had been utterly mangled. “But I got these gifts for you all myself. Here,” she passed out the three neatly wrapped packages to her friends and watched as they tore into the paper.
Sango thanked her profusely for the soap, exclaiming in delight at the scent and quality, beaming at the thought of using it the next time the group stopped at an onsen. Shippo mumbled something unintelligible around a mouthful of chocolate, which Kagome figured was thanks enough. And Miroku was smart enough not to display his gift to the wider group, merely clasping one of Kagome’s hands between his own and saying that she had “made his evening.”
That only left…
“Is Inuyasha...here?” Kagome finally asked. He still hadn’t made an appearance.
“We haven’t seen him all day, Kagome,” Sango said. “He stomped off after you left and hasn’t been back since.”
“Oh,” was all she could say, worrying her bandaid-clad fingers in her lap, thoughts turning to the last little package in her bag. She’d be lying if she hadn’t hoped a gift would sweeten his attitude toward her return. They’d fought like this before, stupid yes-I-will, no-you-won’t arguments about traveling through the well, but he’d always been there to meet her when she’d come back.
Firmly ordering herself not to cry like a silly girl, Kagome excused herself under the guise of needing to use the facilities. She snagged Inuyasha’s gift from her pack before she left, tucking it into one jacket pocket as she made her way towards Goshinboku by the light of the moon. Other youkai hadn’t dared approach the village since Inuyasha’s return, and she figured she’d be safe enough.
By the time she reached the roots of the great tree, her nose was bright red and runny, and her socks were soaked through again. Right...she’d forgotten to ask about more weather-proof shoes.
Kagome glanced up at the snow-covered boughs and sighed. Maybe she could just tuck the gift up in the tree and Inuyasha would find it eventually?
A twig snapped behind her. She whirled around.
And there he was. Arms firmly crossed into his sleeves, Inuyasha frowned at her. Bits of snow dusted the crown of his head, and he was flushed, whether from exertion or the cold she couldn’t tell.
“What’re ya doing all the way out here, wench?” he asked gruffly, but not unkindly.
“Looking for you. How did you find me? Sango and Miroku said you’d left.”
“I always know where you are, ‘Gome.”
Abruptly Kagome let out an explosive sneeze. It echoed around the clearing; honestly, she’d shocked herself by how loud it was. She flushed in embarrassment.
“Keh. You idiot,” Inuyasha said fondly, shucking off his firerat and wrapping it around her now shivering frame. “Yer gonna catch a damn cold.”
“Th-th-thanks,” Kagome chattered.
“Let’s get you back inside,” he said, turning around and gesturing for her to hop on his back.
“No wait!” she protested. “Can we stay out here for a bit?”
He blinked golden eyes at her. “If ya want.” Without asking, Inuyasha scooped Kagome up in his arms and bounded up into the Goshinboku, finding a wide branch tucked close to the trunk that had stayed relatively protected from the snow. He settled her where it was sturdiest, sitting just to the side.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Kagome didn’t know if she should apologize for sitting him and storming off or demanding one herself.
But she didn’t want to argue.
Digging one hand into her pocket, she brought out the now slightly wrinkled package. She smoothed out some of the creases and thrust it at Inuyasha.
“Merry Christmas, Inuyasha,” she said softly.
He took the package from her and gave her a questioning look. She nodded, and he took one claw, neatly slicing the paper along its taped edge, opening it carefully. He held up the two sweatbands, examining them carefully, rubbing the pads of his fingers gently over the thread patterns she’d paid for in sweat, tears, and blood.
“They’re for your wrists,” Kagome babbled. “I figured you could wear them and it would help keep your hands from getting sweaty when you fought. And I embroidered a little design on them myself. There’s a little ramen cup and pawprints. I know I didn’t do a very good job, but I promise I didn’t get any blood on them and they’ll still work just fine.”
Her voice trailed off as she watched Inuyasha slip them over each wrist, adjusting them so both designs faced upwards, turning them this way and that to check the fit.
“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to,” Kagome hedged.
“You made ‘em for me, right? They’re mine, and you can’t take ‘em back.”
“I know you would probably have preferred a whole bunch of new ramen, like last year.”
He shook his head. “Keh. These are fine.”
They fell into a more comfortable silence. Kagome pressed herself into Inuyasha’s side, wrapping his firerat more securely around her shoulders. Her eyes started to droop — she’d stayed up way too late the night before to finish sewing and wrapping everything.
“I’d forgotten about your Ku-ri-su-ma-su,” Inuyasha said suddenly, struggling a bit to pronounce it. “Forgot that you gave us all these nice presents last year, too. I went in the well after ya, was planning to haul you over my shoulder and drag you back to go shard huntin’.”
“You did? I didn’t see you at all!” Kagome exclaimed.
“Well, ya don’t got my nose,” he grinned down at her, tapping his own to emphasize his point. “But I saw ya at the table, doin somethin, and every so often you’d yelp a bit and get one of those stupid modern bandages for your fingers.” Here, he caught one of her hands in his, taking a good look at all the bandaids she’d forgotten to take off. “Yer so clumsy.”
“Well ex-cuse me,” Kagome huffed.
“Aw, ‘Gome, it’s not a bad thing. No one has ever made me something before. Except you, and you stabbed yourself a million times to do it, silly wench.”
“See if I ever do it again,” she grumbled.
“No, you won’t,” he replied amiably. “Because I got you this.” Inuyasha reached into his own pocket and dropped a small object into her open palm.
Kagome looked at it. It was a very light, thimble made of what felt like polished bone. Or maybe ivory, she wasn’t sure. It was carved all over with delicate sakura blossoms, and she marveled at the intricate design.
“I had Totosai make it from one of my fangs,” Inuyasha rasped. “So it won’ chip or break or wear out. Old coot is good for more than sword smithing after all. Ya don’t have to use it if you think it’s gross.”
Kagome felt herself blush. “It’s not gross, Inuyasha,” she said firmly, folding her fingers around the gift. It could never be, because it was something he made for her. And her fingers would definitely appreciate it, too. “Thank you, I’ll treasure it always.”
“Keh.”
Kagome smiled and snuggled back into his side. Best Christmas ever. Even if Inuyasha hadn’t noticed the hearts, yet.