Direction

Kagura’s soul was the wind. She was quick, confident, brash, and unyielding. She was everywhere and saw everything. She was the answer to riddles and her will would be answered to.

And, currently, she was completely lost.

She’d finally convinced Sesshomaru to join her, and together they would take down Naraku and seek vengeance against those who helped him rise to power: Kikyou, Kagome, and Inuyasha. 

But as they walked deeper into the dense forest, Kagura’s confidence in her plan wavered. Soaring through the skies, she could see for miles, mapping her movements between mountains and streams. Now she was navigating between individual trees and rocks with no idea how far they had traveled. Even tracking the sun was more difficult under the thick green canopy. She had to completely rely on Sesshomaru to guide her, and she wasn’t sure she could do that. It had been a long time since she’d trusted anyone. But Naraku was watching the skies, and surfacing would ruin this one chance she had to free herself. 

She took a calming breath, the sting at the hole in her chest where her heart used to be refocusing her. She had to trust him, she didn’t have any other choice.

Kagura was many things, but what she needed to be was patient. So patient she would be.

Sacrifice

Sango wasn’t sure she wanted to be a mother. 

Her own had died giving birth to Kohaku, and that death had taken her years to grieve and process. Instead, as eldest, she chose to focus on demon slayer training and learning how to run her village. She might not have children of her own, but she could be a motherly head woman for her people when the time came.

But life has a habit of not going according to plan. 

Sometimes that’s horrific.

Other times it’s a blessing.

Carrying her twins had been an experience unlike anything Sango had ever encountered. She’d been tired before, she’d been wounded, she’d been frustrated, she’d been scared– but never like this. As she sat nursing her daughters for what felt like the hundredth time that day, looking out the window and watching the other women of Musashi chasing after not just two but four or five or, heaven forbid, six children she couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel that would make her want to ever go through this all again. 

Yet she did. Eventually.

But also intentionally, willingly, and gladly. 

Just the once more.

And now, as she watched her son blatantly steal yet another piece of fish from her plate to fill the wind tunnel in his stomach, she simply rolled her eyes and pretended not to notice his “sneaky” little hand groping around her bowl. 

Sango had always been told that parenting was about sacrifice. And while it was - less sleep, less alone time, less resources, less space, less time to focus on anything that required more than forty-five minutes of dedicated brain power- it didn’t mean sacrificing herself.  

She was still Sango. 

She was still a leader, still a slayer, still found time for Kirara, and Miroku, and Shippo. Sure it looked different now, but so did she. And if today’s biggest sacrifice was losing a few extra pieces of fish (and a few hours sleep) in exchange for seeing the satisfied smile on her son’s face as he rushed to share his pilfered snack with his conspirators, then she would do it every day.

Childhood

When Kagome announced she was pregnant, Inuyasha went through a violent series of emotions very quickly. There was shock, there was elation, then there was a bone deep dread, swiftly followed by fear and a need to join his wife in the bushes to throw-up.

But by the time his son– his son– finally arrived he felt more prepared than he thought he would. They had a basket, they had diapers, they had blankets and furs and chew toys durable enough for hanyou teeth. He’d even “baby proofed” as Kagome put it: sanding down the corners of the table to avoid pointed edges; getting all new smooth, clean mats for the floor; even rebuilding the doorframe so they would be harder for a baby to slide.

He was also prepared for threats outside the home. Mirroku had ofuda’d every inch of the village. They went on daily patrols and - even though he would never tell Kagome- he’d scent marked every other tree in a three mile radius. He’d even bullied Sesshomaru into making more regular appearances. 

With all this prepping little baby Yuya was snugger than a bug in a rug. And thanks to extensive prep time with Sango’s children, Inuyasha was at least mostly ready to deal with the crying, the diaper rash, and the lack of sleep Kagome was going to suffer while breastfeeding.

So how come nobody fucking told him during all this the kid was going to actively try and kill himself at every available opportunity?

Before he was even crawling Yuya seemed to find everything and try to pop it directly into his mouth. He scratched his face, punched himself in a place Inuyasha was very sure he didn’t want to be punched, and pulled his own hair when he was mad.

Then there was crawling.

How was this a good idea from an evolutionary standpoint? Kagome told him about how humans and animals adapted to their environment to ensure survival. So why did baby humans allow their tiny baby heads to take such a beating as they bellyflopped their way directly towards the active fire pit!? Why did baby arms fail at holding them up but their hands could grip a knife that was unwatched for a single blink? Yuya couldn’t stand, but he could roll directly into the river while they washed laundry?

So he decided if the baby didn’t adapt then he would. More toddler proofing. Or, more accurately, more failure.

The new bathtub he built? Apparently actually a climbing gym.

The bed he made? More like a crash pad for swinging from the ceiling.

And he didn’t even want to think about the garden with its hoes and its stakes and the fence and the dirt and the snakes and just… everything.

As Inuyasha spent yet another night on sentry duty, watching over Yuya and making sure the newest collection of scrapes and bruises cleared (he healed faster than his mother, but definitely not as quickly or as completely as his father) he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his belly that he should be doing… something. He wasn’t sure what, but something more to keep his son safe. He didn’t want to lock him in the house all day - not that that would help anyway - but Inuyasha had been so focused on outside forces hurting his child, he never really considered how unintentionally self destructive a lanky, super strong, super fast, absolute moron child could be.

But even after - or maybe especially after - taking a major fumble from a tree during the eight seconds it took Inuyasha to turn and answer a question Yuya had still smiled. Still laughed. Still ran immediately back to the same damn tree and tried again. ¿

Maybe that was the point, though, wasn’t it? 

Maybe he couldn’t keep his not-so-little-baby-boy safe from everything, or even himself, but he could keep him happy. Could keep him trying again. Could help him laugh even as his mom smeared that horrible smelling goop all over the broken skin. 

And then tomorrow Inuyasha would check to make sure he was healed and they’d go break something else. 

Mental Health

There are some things you never really get over. 

The older she got, the more Shiori thought she would grow out of her anxiety. It had been years since her mother offered her up as a sacrificial lamb, abandoning her to the constant threats and abuse at the hands of her grandfather. After this long she should be fine, right? 

Should be able to hear someone at the door without panicking. 

Should be able to sleep without dreaming of being stuck in the barrier again. 

Should be able to trust that when her mother was late coming back from an errand that she surely wasn’t coming back with a mob. Except maybe she was, and it was safer to hide than be wrong.

When her mother died Shiori cried for days, trapped in the house with a corpse. What would happen to her now? How could she possibly stay in the village that had so willingly cast her aside? But she didn’t know where the surviving bat tribe members had fled to. What if the bats trapped her again? She didn’t want to go back, she didn’t want to go back, SHE DIDN’T WANT TO GO BACK.

Shiori awoke with a start as a firm hand shook her shoulder. Her eyes scanned the dark room, before meeting concerned amber. She never knew how Inuyasha had learned about what happened; maybe the Kami had finally taken pity on her and it was a miraculous coincidence. Three days after her mother’s death, there he was, scooping her up off the dusty floor and bringing her to his new village. It was unlike anything she’d ever heard of: humans, demons, hanyou, all living together and training as slayers.