Emotions That Cut Deep 

“Mommy? Why won’t you wake up, Mommy? Daddy is worried about you; he doesn’t like to see you in pain. Please wake up, Mommy.”

Kagome’s eyes flew open at the alarm that laced the child’s voice. Her aching body protested against her actions, as it was unwilling to leave the warm cocoon her subconscious had encased her in. The touch of the wind felt like ice on her inflamed skin. The sun’s brilliant radiance was currently sparing no light, and the majority of it seemed to cover her in a spotlight; the only problem with this was that she was practically blind. But her ears were very much active, and she could hear the anxious whimpers of the child who took up a position at her side.

The whimpers seemed to cut deep within her soul, causing a tender wound to eradicate any source of serenity that opposed its inevitable takeover; Kagome’s mind rejected the whimpers, wanting only smiles and giggles to come from the being beside her.She turned to find a little girl about the age of eight or nine sitting beside her, the curtain of her ebony hair flowing in the beat of the summer breeze. Her golden eyes reflected every emotion she felt at the moment; Kagome could only pick out the ones that were obvious: grief, worry, a miniscule amount of relief.

The girl seemed to lighten up as Kagome blinked, struggling to get a baring of her surroundings. Mass confusion sprung from these thoughts the more Kagome studied the girl; who was she, and why did she resemble herself? But it was the dog ears that resided on the top of the girl’s head that threw her for a loop.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Mommy,” the girl confessed, demonstrating a bright smile that put even the sun to shame. “I was so worried.”

“Who are you?” Kagome gently inquired of the girl, arching an eyebrow. “And, why do you call me ‘Mommy?’”

The girl giggled. “Because that’s who you are, silly; you’re my mommy.” Her words struck a raw chord in Kagome’s heart. Before Kagome could question it, the girl’s next words silenced her. “My name is Inume.”

“Inu…me?” Kagome repeated.

She nodded. “Yes, Inume. And you’re my mommy: Kagome.”

Kagome shook her head incredulously; she had never mothered a child. “I’m sorry, but you must have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re my mommy. We look exactly alike, save my golden eyes. Daddy said that I look the most like you because the kamis wanted to craft me in your beautiful image. You would always blush at his praise…”

This girl is…really my child, Kagome realized as she scrutinized Inume’s physique. We could easily be twins despite the age difference. But, why is she here, in the depths of my mind? Will I really mother a child like her sometime in the future? Speaking of the future…

Kagome was released from her thoughts when she broke gazes with the child to survey the area. A meadow that stretched on for miles met her stunned eyes. The swaying grass ticked her exposed limbs, the wind rocking it back and forth as if the two forces of nature were dancing. Wildflowers extended their purple and blue buds towards the heavens, the sky bare of clouds and the color of a foggy shard of aquamarine. The air was warm and the breeze was steady, and the general atmosphere of the landscape was drenched in a placid state. There were no shadows to destroy the awe-inspiring feel that the meadow gave to Kagome; the place was simply perfect, the air clean and unpolluted.

Inume giggled again at Kagome’s dumbfounded expression. “Mommy, you’re drooling.”

Kagome reverted herself back to reality and glanced at the girl that stared back with laughing golden eyes. A smile graced her lips at the image. The smile, the giggle, the eyes; they all reminded her of Inuyasha. The girl was theirs, and only theirs. In this picture, Kikyo was absent, and would remain so. She pitied the undead priestess, but did not dwell on it for more than a second before she heard the timid whine of the girl beside her.

“Inume?” Kagome asked, questioning her daughter’s sudden rise in tension.

“Daddy is worried about you,” the younger girl replied simply.

Kagome bowed her head, memories resurfacing from where they had lied dormant. “Yes, I imagine that he is.”

“That lady, Kikyo; did she hurt you badly, Mommy?”

The future mother noted the way that Inume’s ears were plastered to her scalp, and vaguely realized that she was ashamed. “What do you mean, Inume?”

“Did she…injure you so badly that you might die?” Her eyes were pleading as they gazed intently into Kagome’s. “I don’t want you to die, Mommy.”

“Inume, I’m not going to die.”

Inume suddenly let out a wail that seemed to tear through the heavens and launched herself into Kagome’s arms, tears blinding her vision. Kagome pulled the girl into her lap and embraced her tighter, murmuring words of reassurance to the young girl. It seemed to do no good, though; her words fell on deaf ears. It troubled her tremendously her to see her daughter in this disposition. How many tears had she cried in her whole lifetime? And, how many had been for her sake? Kikyo’s vow to kill her was still on the horizon, and she wondered if the undead miko had attempted to take her life again. If so, how had this effected any children of hers that might exist in the not so distant future? She shivered at the thought, finding her own tears glistening in her eyes.

“Promise you won’t die, Mommy,” Inume said into Kagome’s kimono, her voice muffled. She leaned away and repeated more forcefully, “Promise me, Mommy, that you won’t die. Please!”

Kagome risked a gentle smile, hoping that Inume did not notice the tears that threatened to overflow. “I promise,” she whispered.

“Then, you will wake up and return to Daddy? You’ll make his tears go away?”

“What makes you think he’s crying?” she asked teasingly, poking her in the ribs lightly.

Inume giggled, her tears forgotten. “Daddy never likes to admit it, but he cries when you’re hurt; he doesn’t like it very much. And when Daddy cries, I want to cry. Daddy is really, really strong, Mommy; to see him cry is very weird for us, and we don’t like it.”

“Who’s we, Inume?”

She grinned. “Brother and sister and I.”

“I see.” She paused and glanced at the beautiful majesty of the meadow. The place was definitely not familiar. “Inume? Where are we?”

Her expression soured, and she, too, looked at the meadow. Her eyes saddened. “This is the meadow you come to when you are unconscious; it serves as a peaceful place for you. Sometimes, when I sleep and you are dreaming, I find myself in this place with you. You told me not to tell Daddy, and that it was our little secret. I’m still keeping it, Mommy! I’m a good girl.” She beamed with delight, the sadness emptying out of her eyes.

Kagome laughed and ruffled Inume’s hair, the material like silk under her fingers. “You are a good girl, Inume.”

“Mommy? Will you wake up and see Daddy now? He’s really worried about you.”

“I think that might be a good idea.”

Inume hugged the future miko’s middle, causing Kagome to gasp at the surprise contact. “I love you, Mommy.”

Kagome smiled at the girl’s confession and rubbed her back. “I love you, too, Inume.”

She was startled when Inume was suddenly wrenched from her arms.

As she watched, she was stunned to see that the grass and the flowers were losing their colors. They turned into a color so gray, that she had to turn her head to avoid the sight. The flowers wilted, their beauty forgotten. The beautiful majesty of the meadow was gone, replaced by darkness. Now the clear sky lost its color and became coal black, the color of a restless soul. A black hole opened up in the middle of the meadow, its mouth begging for the items that were sucked in. Eventually, Kagome, too, was sucked in.

..::OO::..

Inuyasha squirmed uncomfortably under the full extent of Sango’s glare, feeling as if a single ray of harsh sunlight had remained in his eyes despite the darkened sky. The slayer was not pleased to figure out that her friend had nearly been killed, and by Kikyo, no less. She seethed in anger, and with each glare that she directed at him, he felt a part of himself tear away and cower under a rock; this woman scared him more than Naraku on a good day, especially now that she was five months pregnant.

Miroku just eyed his wife carefully as if she was about to collapse out of the blue, but there was still enough concern to go around for his comrade lying still on the futon.

Inuyasha squeezed Kagome’s hand, hoping to receive a response. None came. His ears flattened to his scalp, and he cursed himself once again for not making it to her side fast enough. He never felt so helpless, so vulnerable. And now that she was pupped...he could only imagine what would’ve happened to the baby if he hadn’t made it in time, if Kagome really had been killed. He would’ve lost the woman he loved most, and the child that symbolized their unyielding love. The thought made his blood run cold. Kikyo had almost permanently destroyed the life he had been desperate to build, and his hate ran deep for her. But pity was also swirled into the mix after recalling the evil events that had occurred between the two that tested their faith, and their love. He squeezed Kagome’s hand again at his revelation on the touchy subject.

Miroku laid a gentle hand on his hanyou friend’s shoulder. “She’ll be okay, Inuyasha,” he assured. “Kagome is strong; she’ll get through this.”

“I feel so…so helpless,” Inuyasha whispered.

The monk recoiled in surprise; to hear Inuyasha speak his true feelings was rare, but he realized then how deep the wounds of Inuyasha’s pain truly were, and plastered a calm smile to his lips. “The healer said she would be fine, did she not? I suggest that you heed her words and quit your worrying; Kagome will pull through like she always does.”

Sango nodded her head in agreement, mumbling incoherently under her breath and sending another death glare Inuyasha’s way.

Message received; Inuyasha shuddered, unable to reply in his usual arrogant way.  

He’s such a broken man when his damsel is in distress, Miroku thought sorrowfully as he watched the hanyou glance down at the face of his mate and squeezed her hand. In Kagome’s case, she’s simply his savior, and the protector of his heart; and if the body guard is defeated, then the state of mind that holds his emotions in place will collapse. I pity him, and I hope, for his sake, that Kagome heals quickly.

“You wouldn’t be so helpless if you had protected her better,” Sango said coldly, narrowing her eyelids. “I thought you were half inu-yokai; what happened to that sense of smell that you’re always bragging about?”

“Sango-” Miroku began.

She cut him off with an icy stare and returned to glaring at Inuyasha until he crumbled under his guilt. “You should be ashamed to call yourself her mate.”

Inuyasha’s head shot up at the last word. “You honestly think it was my fault? She’s the one who walked out of the hut! It had been raining the previous day; I was lucky to sniff out the remnants of her scent! And there’s no need to already make me feel guilty, Sango, because I’m pretty much drowning in it.”

Sango stared at him as if he had grown another head.

“What?” he demanded of her, his ill-mannered tone revealing exactly how he felt at the moment: hurt, anxious, and saddened beyond compare.

“It’s just…odd for you to speak your feelings so outward like that,” she admitted, raising her eyebrows. “Looks like Kagome finally got through to you.”

“Keh.” Look at me. I’m reduced to a broken man because a girl gets hurt. I must be so…unworthy in Sesshomaru’s eyes. But this girl is Kagome, and she’s my entire world; I won’t allow anything like this to happen again. He squeezed her hand to reassure himself as he pondered. I promise, Kagome, I will always save you from whatever tries to take you from me. I will always, always, be there for you, no matter what you say; I promise.

Miroku noted Inuyasha’s pensive expression and pulled on his wife’s arm, warning her without words to calm down. She relaxed under his touch and smiled gently.

“We should be going now,” Miroku announced without turning. “Please come by and tell us when Kagome comes around.

”“Fine.”

The edge to the hanyou’s voice was duly noted, and Miroku ushered his wife out of the hut against her protests. He understood Inuyasha’s pain, for it was once his own, and he knew that he wanted space more than anything had the moment. Grief swelled in his heart at the recollection of Kagome’s ivory skin being paler than usual; it would’ve killed him to see Sango in that state.

“Will Kagome be okay, Miroku?” Sango asked timidly, laying a hand on his arm.

Miroku nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “Inuyasha is with her now; Kagome will be just fine. Don’t underestimate her, Sango; she’s our Kagome, after all.”