Chapter Text
It was no secret that Kagome loved her daughter. One of the many things she’d heard herself complimented on was the care she gave to her little one, and all the love she seemed to spoil her with. How could she not though? Moroha was adorable, free-spirited, and such a kind child. No matter how much mischief she stirred up or the dirt she dragged into their little home, Kagome couldn’t bring herself to be too cross with her.
It would be like arguing with her own heart.
This little part of her heart who bore a striking resemblance to a much bigger part of her heart, two pieces she couldn’t see herself ever being without because they were far too precious to let go of. Although, that number would go up to three when she thought about the kitsune who came barreling into her life one day and balked at the thought of ever leaving her. Four, when counting the wizened miko who reminded her of her dear grandfather, though Kagome giggled at the thought of them meeting for she would have no tolerance for his nonsense.
And if she thought of the many friends she’d made, the ones who were like her family, she would have countless pieces of her heart floating freely in the world. Living their own lives independent of hers, occasionally crossing paths only to drift away again, leaving her feeling full and empty all at once. But none of that mattered. After spending three years away from the person she loved, she realized that distance couldn’t lessen a feeling so true and earnest as her love for Inuyasha.
It only grew with the longing to be together once more, and she prayed that having patience in waiting for that time would bring about the sweetest reward when they were reunited. Her faith was rewarded with a devoted husband, steadfast in his belief in her and tender in his affections. She blushed at the thought of how he held her and kissed her, teased her and doted on her, marveled at the sight of their firstborn, and whispered promises in both their ears to protect them forever.
It was no secret that Kagome loved their daughter and no secret that Inuyasha loved them. He was a wonderful father. Spoiling Moroha with affection while firmly reprimanding her when she did wrong. A softie, though he wouldn’t allow anyone but Kagome to call him such without some sharp and likely vulgar retort. Although he’d mellowed out over the years, that fire is what made him her Inuyasha, and she wouldn’t change him for the world. Not when he was in awe of every step Moroha took, and always looking back at her as if to confirm that what he saw was real.
Every story dredged up from some resemblance between father and daughter warmed Kagome’s heart as much as it pained her. Knowing that her husband was as small as their daughter when he was set adrift in the world after the death of his mother made her weep. So much so that Inuyasha tried to quickly assuage her tears whenever he’d told her something of his past, letting her hug him as tight as she wanted until her sadness subsided. But there was always that regret harbored deep within her heart. The regret that she could never hold her husband’s childhood self, tell him that he would find love and happiness someday and that he belonged in the world as much as anyone else. She would kiss his little hands in the same way she did their daughter, cuddle him until he was squirming and flustered like the Inuyasha she loved, and wish they were born in the same time - the same world - so she could grow with him and love him without interruption.
However, such fantasies could never be, and so she gave all of her love to the Inuyasha she could hold. Smothering him was one of her favorite things to do and she was happy that Moroha loved her father so much that she’d join her in plying him with so much affection that the past couldn’t enter the present they’d made. She couldn’t thank Shippō enough for not abandoning Inuyasha during those three years. For staying with him, even when he was surly and disconnected from the world, or angry and self-loathing.
Though the two bickered now and again, like brothers, Shippō still looked up to Inuyasha with the eyes of a child regarding their hero.
Kagome was certain Shippō was attached to Inuyasha, perhaps more than he was to her. Three years of time with just the two of them reinforced what bond had already been formed between them. Though they didn’t talk much about what happened back then, it was clear to her that they were closer now. Moroha’s birth hardly put into question where Shippō belonged. There was only the curiosity of what she would call him when she was old enough to recognize familial relations.
“Nii-san…” Shippō repeated one evening as he bounced a freshly-changed Moroha in his arms. His nose scrunched, likely still harboring traces of the putrid scent once coming from the infant. “But I’m not your son,” he said, making Kagome and Inuyasha stop in the middle of their preparations for dinner. “And I’m not your brother…” He winced, stealing a glance at Kagome and then looking down. The mention of Sōta used to ache when she realized that she’d never get to see him grow up into a fine young man, in the same way, Shippō had.
However, she knew her brother would be fine. As he got older, he reminded her a lot of their father. In some corner of her mind, she knew Sōta would grow up to resemble Higurashi Junpei - he already possessed his goodness and his smile - it would only be a matter of time before the rest caught up to him. And though she never met Shippō's father in person, she knew the two of them had one thing in common for certain - wanting to protect the people they loved even when they weren't there.
She stole a glance toward Inuyasha whose face bore an unrecognizable expression. His eyes were trained on Shippō but the focus in them was so intent that Kagome wasn’t certain if he was upset by the kitsune’s words or puzzled by them. Then, Inuyasha let out a loud breath that startled everyone but Moroha who was dozing with her fist tucked in her mouth. After handing Kagome the rice basin’s lid, Inuyasha stalked over to Shippō and then raised his fist. Instinctively, Kagome opened her mouth to tell him not to hit him, but Inuyasha’s fist lightly tapped Shippō’s head instead of whacking him.
It was so soft that Shippō didn’t even seem to notice, and Kagome felt the familiar concern drain out of her open mouth in a soft huh.
When it caught up to him, Shippō 's tightly closed eyes popped open, blinking widely, then looking upward at Inuyasha. Without missing a beat, Inuyasha withdrew his fist and glared down at him. “It doesn’t matter what she calls you, you’re stuck with us, so suck it up and move on.” He huffed, turning sharply on his heel to head back and gather the dishes they’d need from Kagome’s slackened grasp, bringing them over to the hearth. Left in his wake, Kagome and Shippō stared at him astonishedly. Their eyes locked a second afterward, and without being able to help it, Kagome giggled into her hand while Shippō looked on embarrassed. Moroha continued to gum on her fist, blissfully unaware of what took place, but happy.
That’d been years ago, and now her daughter was a just-as-happy and healthy four-year-old, currently playing in the field beside their home with Shippō pretending to plant her in an empty plot they’d dug out together. Shippō grinned as Moroha laughed, calling ‘Shippō! Shippō!’ when he rubbed dirt into her chubby hands. The two of them were as content as could be, and Kagome watched them warmly as she pulled the laundry off the clotheslines, choosing not to think of how she’d have to wrangle her daughter into the bath sooner or later. After she finished folding the last of the futons to take inside, she eyed the laundry basket sitting innocently yet deceptively lightly out of the corner of her eye.
The day’s exhaustion had been wearing on her, and she lamented taking everything in a bit at a time, but it had to be done. The last time she’d left folded laundry sitting outside, Moroha climbed in the basket to go to sleep and Kagome had to rewash almost everything. It was worth it to see Moroha’s sleeping face, but the effort took a bit out of her.
“Need some help?” A quiet, gentle voice asked. Warm breath ghosted over her ear sending shivers down her spine when the futon is plucked from her slackened grasp. Inuyasha’s arm lightly grazed hers in passing as he hoisted the basket onto his hip and draped the futon over his shoulder. His silver hair swayed hypnotically, tied in a high ponytail that gave her a generous view of his nape. Her mouth went dry when he peeked at her over his shoulder and then grinned toothily.
“Like what you see, wife?”
Kagome let out a soft gasp, then a sound of frustration when he laughed. “Inuyasha..!”
His booming laughter drew the attention of Moroha and Shippō, the former of which squealed excitedly and proceeded to unearth herself without care for how much dirt she flung onto Shippō’s clothes. The kitsune’s sputtered pleas for her to still so he could help were dutifully ignored, for once Moroha leaped up from her hold on the ground, she raced to Inuyasha. Kagome cupped her hands over her heart when the small child threw herself at his legs, clinging to his thighs with a big smile on her face that was mirrored on Inuyasha’s.
“Papa, let’s go play,” Moroha demanded, attempting to scale Inuyasha’s front until she slides once and is caught by Inuyasha’s quick thinking in raising his knee to let her sit on his thigh. It’s a balancing act, and a funny one too. Kagome pretended she didn’t hear Shippō snicker when he walked over after brushing off the dirt from his clothes and then refilling the hole in the garden.
“You played enough, pup,” Inuyasha said, bouncing his knee when Moroha pouted to make her giggle and laugh again. “C’mon, help me bring this stuff inside so I can get you a bath before we eat.”
Moroha whined, “But papa…”
“No buts, your mom needs a break, so you’re taking a bath with me…” Inuyasha glanced up at Shippō then snorted. “And you too.”
“Hey, I’m perfectly clean,” Shippō protested, folding his arms and then shivering when he felt something creeping up his spine. A quick rummage through the back of his clothes revealed it to be a little earthworm. The scandalization on Shippō’s face was enough to make Moroha break into a fit of laughter, joined by Inuyasha’s cackling and Kagome’s giggles. “I-It’s not that funny..! Kagome!”
She wiped at the little tears forming in the corner of her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Her wheezing laughter comes to an end when she felt a little tug on her sleeve, looking down to find Moroha staring up at her with wide eyes. Inuyasha and Shippō’s bickering filled the background, and Kagome let her daughter guide her down to a crouch with a firm grasp on her sleeve.
“What’s wrong, Momo?” She asked, smiling as her daughter threw her arms around her middle and pressed her ear to her chest. Dirt smudged against the white of her robes but she hardly minded. Moroha was in the habit of hugging her a lot more lately, and Kagome took every opportunity she could get to press a little kiss to the top of her baby’s head.
Just as she leaned down to do just that, Moroha bounced up, the top of her head nearly hitting Kagome’s nose if she hadn’t drawn back so quickly. Her daughter’s eyes shone as she said, “It’s louder now, Mama!”
Bemused, Kagome raised a brow and tipped her head to one side. “What is?” She asked, curious as to what discovery her daughter made this time.
Pleased, and grinning with her little fangs on full display, Moroha crowed, “The baby!”
Kagome stared, and distantly, she hears Shippō and Inuyasha’s conversation come to a halt. The weight of their stares level upon her back but she pays them no mind as she gazed at Moroha. Her daughter nodded firmly, then pressed her ear back against Kagome’s chest, directly over her heart. “It’s hard to hear because your heart is so loud. Mama, can you be a little quieter? I wanna hear the baby…”
Kagome shuddered when she said it again. Baby, a child, which meant…
She turned her head slowly, looking up to Inuyasha who stared down at her with wide eyes. The basket tucked against his hip began to slip but Shippō caught it and then hugged it to his chest for dear life. The bamboo began to fray in certain parts from how tightly he gripped the sides. Her attention hardly shifted, trained on her husband whose ears were twitching and swiveled to focus on her. A second that felt like an eternity passed, his mouth falling open and those golden eyes she loved so much began to shimmer and shine with love. The same love she saw in his face when he held Moroha or tussled with Shippō.
She wasn’t sure how but she knew the child growing in her had their father’s heart already.