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Izayoi and Shippo : Pride
It was painful, watching her son from the otherside. It hurt to know she could do nothing as the life her child wanted more than anything was torn from him, not once but twice in his short lifetime. But as Izayoi watched Inuyasha walk to the dry well, she realized that he wasn't alone anymore.
Shippo perched on his shoulder , the usually rambunctious kit sitting respectfully, offering kinder words than she'd ever heard from him before. As she listened to Shippo ask about all of the other people who loved their Kagome, gently drawing Inuyasha from his hollow grief, Izayoi had never been prouder of her grandson.
Sesshomaru and Touga : Greed
When Touga thought about Sesshomaru, all he saw was greed. His son was hungry for power, for titles, for blood. He thought leaving him cryptic bequeathments would assuage him, force him to introspect and reconsider his motivations.
But Touga was wrong.
Sesshomaru was greedy, but not for wealth and stature. He was starving for affection. For acknowledgment. For a father to see him as more than an heir, but as a son.
And when Touga died so did any hope of reconciliation. Sesshomaru's greed would consume him, an impotent little ember that would burn him from the inside out.
Miroku and Kagome : Wrath
Kagome had refused to train with Sango or Inuyasha, claiming she didn't want to fight with her hands. But when she again ran out of arrows more than a day's journey from a village, the group was finally able to convince her - for her own safety - to train with Miroku in defensive techniques.
Kagome was soft, and short, and Miroku foolishly said so in their first season. As he sat in the dirt nurseing his bruised backside, he decided then and there to put much more effort into not being on the receiving end of Kagome's wrath ever again.
Koga and Sango : Envy
Sango had never been bitter before. She'd loved and laughed and felt joy for others as if it was her own. But watching the wolfpack pick up the pieces and embrace each other after the destruction of Naraku, she felt an envy she never felt before. Everyone else had more than before but her. Everyone had something to go home to after the final battle but her.
She sulked through their celebration, her foul mood unnoticed by all but one; a wolf prince who took her hand and led her away from the drunken festivities to offer her a chance to regain the family she'd lost.
Kagura and Inuyasha : Gluttony
When Kagura turned double agent - relaying Naraku's plans to the InuTachi in an attempt to strip him of his powers - she thought the hardest part would be finding time to slip away unnoticed.
But no, the hardest part was watching Inuyasha eat.
Kagura was the wind shackled in a human body. Her organs were traitors, constant reminders of her lost freedom.
But she still treated her stomach better than he did.
As she watched - and listened- to him swallow yet another pack of food whole she seriously considered switching to dropping messages in bottles from now on. It would be slower, but it would be less queasy than watching the glutton stuff himself.
Kagura and Kikyou : Lust
What they lacked in compassion for others they more than made up for in passion for themselves.
Kikyou was cold: clay mixed from soil and spite. But Kagura found the single ember still burning in her core and fanned it to life.
Vengeance did not bring her warmth.
The sun could not burn her.
But Kagura's hand on her scorched.
Kagura hated to be chained in one place, in one body. She was the wind, the air, untameable.
But for her - for Kikyou - perhaps she would keep this single body, and maybe, just maybe, learn a few more ways to enjoy it.
Shiori and Souten : Sloth
"Are you getting up at all today?"
"Probably not."
"But it's beautiful out! Today is the perfect day to finally get started on all that laundry."
"You can go without me."
"I don't like going to the lake on my own, and I'm not doing all the chores again."
Souten crossed her arms and stuck out her lip in an impressive point, but Shiori was unphased. She pulled the blanket back up to her chin and snuggled into the warm futon. Her little lightning bug could storm about all she liked; but bats were nocturnal and she would just have to get used to that.