The child paused and stared up at the massive tree, blinking wide chocolate eyes. She smiled, waved at the tree, and then her attention was abruptly recaptured as her quarry fluttered by her in a dance of pearlescent glimmer. Laughing, she gave chase once again, her eyes on the pretty butterfly that reminded her of her papa’s silver hair.

Farther and farther the butterfly guided the quarter-demon known as Moroha away from her guardian and closer to the old well house that had been in the Higurashi family for generations, or so her great-grandfather claimed. Moroha was hardly aware of how far she’d gone, having too much fun running after the butterfly and going on her own little adventure. She couldn’t wait to tell Mama and Papa!

The butterfly doubled back, circled Moroha’s head in which she twirled around to keep her eyes on it with a delighted laugh, and then watched as it flew toward the well house and disappeared inside. Moroha didn’t hesitate in going after it, easily slipping her little body through the cracked door. It was dark inside and the tot thought about going back out where it was brighter – she didn’t like the dark – but then her butterfly friend appeared before her and seemed to radiate a white glow that cast away the scary shadows.

Beaming, Moroha dropped onto her butt and scooted down the stairs, glad that her pretty butterfly stayed with her the entire time so she didn’t have to be afraid. When her bare feet touched the floor, she clapped in success and did a little dance. Her butterfly friend twirled in the air before fluttering away to hover above the well for a few seconds and then venture into it, disappearing from view.

Curious, Moroha toddled up to the well and reached up with small hands to grasp the wooden lip as she stood on her tip-toes, giving little grunts of effort as she tried to peer into the dark depths. She gasped in delight when she saw her butterfly fluttering somewhere in the middle of the shaft, its white opalescent glow briefly illuminating the walls as it fluttered to and fro. It flew up to hover before her, landed quickly on her nose, and then dove back down into the dark depths.

Releasing a joyous laugh, Moroha bent her knees, jumped up, and hooked her tiny claws into the wood to haul herself up onto the lip of the wooden structure. She wobbled for a minute before regaining her balance and then blinked down into the well. She saw her butterfly friend, patiently waiting for her to join it, and with a giggle, Moroha jumped.

One minute Moroha was falling, and the next she was floating, suspended in air and she watched with wide chocolate eyes as a pretty blue light surrounded her body. She wiggled around and somehow ended upside down. As gravity does, her red sundress fell to fall around her head and she laughed as she tried to push it back up as the blue light steadily started fading out until suddenly she was lying at the bottom of the well. The last vestiges of blue vanished and Moroha was left blinking up at the square of clear blue sky above her.

“Whoa,” she said just as a white butterfly flew across that blue square and her eyes lit up with glee. She got to her feet and waved with a huge smile, but her butterfly only lingered for a few seconds before fluttering away, out of sight.

Moroha’s smile faded and she pouted. “Hey, come back!” she called and looked around for a way to get out of the well. Usually her papa helped her onto high places and she opened her mouth to call—

A shadow suddenly fell over her and Moroha looked up. A figure shrouded in black was leaning over the opening of the well and the toddler blinked just as a gruff and very familiar voice echoed down to her.

“What the—a kid? How the hell—”

Immediately Moroha’s smile returned and she reached her arms up, bouncing on her feet in elation. She called for him, but the figure didn’t respond as he looked around before grumbling something under his breath and abruptly leaping into the old well. The figure landed beside her and Moroha was swept up into strong arms before they were flying up and out, landing gently on the green grass beside the old wooden structure.

Hastily Moroha is set down onto the grass and the figure clad in scarlet backed away. He doesn’t go far, though, and watched as the toddler is immediately distracted by a small patch of flowers growing nearby. She toddled over with an exclamation of delight and squatted down to make a small bouquet.

Puzzled but undeniably amused by the admittedly cute squirt, the figure crouched down and observed as the kid nearly inhaled the blossoms by sniffing them so hard.

“How’d a kid get all the way out here?” he mused to himself and the sound of his voice attracted her attention as big brown eyes swung his way. “And in the well? Where are your parents?” He frowned and eyed the strange kimono she was wearing. “And what in the hell kind of kimono is that?”

The child grinned and abandoned the flowers to toddle over to him. “Hi, Papa!”

Reeling back in something akin to shocked confusion, the figure sputtered as he scrambled away from her, eyes wide as he shot to his feet in an instinctive response to flee. The kid stopped and stared up at him, blinking those big brown eyes as she cocked her head to the side in obvious perplexity.

“P-papa?” he echoed, shaking his head. “Kid, I ain’t your—”

The wind shifted and he suddenly froze as a very, very familiar scent drifted up to him on the breeze. Accompanied with a lighter, sunshiny sent that he identified as her own and another that was almost damn near intoxicating, the scarlet-clad figure swallowed thickly and slowly, so slowly, crouched down again to her level, the disbelief writ clear across his face. The toddler scooted closer to him again and grabbed fistfuls of his suikan, her tiny hands stroking the fabric as she talked to herself as often children her age did.

Steeling himself, he inhaled and there it was again: his scent. He smelled himself on her which was impossible because he’d never seen this kid before in his entire life. He shook his head again, at a complete loss, momentarily stunned as he tried to process this new information. She lifted her head and beamed at him, displaying tiny little fangs, and the startling discovery of just exactly what she was nearly knocked him back onto his ass.

“You’re…you’re quarter-youkai,” he whispered, hardly believing what his nose was clearly telling him. “But…how are you…”

While she continued to smile and idly play with the beads around his neck, he directed his gaze behind her to the old wooden well that had been there for as long as he could remember. It always smelled of wood and old magic; it actually reminded him of one of Kikyou's arrows right after she charged it with—

A tiny hand, tipped with wee claws, grabbed one of his larger hands and he snapped his gaze down to the tot before him. He looked from her, to the well, to her again, and slowly shook his head. That was…impossible. His brows dipped into a frown as another thought occurred to him. But then again…the Bone Eater’s Well didn’t get its name for nothing. Just where exactly did the bones end up…? It didn’t…could they really…?

“Papa,” she said again and his heart ached.

Swallowing past the sudden tightness in his throat, he carefully and achingly slowly picked the tot up to cradle her in his arms as he got to his feet. The child was completely unfazed, utterly trusting and that fact merely solidified his rapidly mounting suspicions. She continued to play with the purple beads around his neck, oblivious to his silent scrutiny as she softly talked to him and herself, fabricating some sort of story he was only half-listening to. That utterly delicious scent teased his nose again and he closed his eyes, taking it in, letting it settle in his mind, his heart, determined to memorize it.

If this pup smelled like him…and that other delectable scent he detected in which he was sure belonged to a woman…and she kept calling him that…

Something warm and wonderful took root in his chest and steadily blossomed outward, enveloping his entire body, making him feel lighter than air but at the same time grounded from the warm, pleasant weight of the child in his arms. He released a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding and when he opened his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of a big smile and bright, brown eyes gazing up at him with all the love a child felt for her father.

The breath hitched in his throat as he felt himself returning that smile, the corners of his lips curling up without his permission.

“I think,” he began roughly, feeling ridiculously choked up. “I think…you’re a long way from home, runt.”

She blinked and tilted her head, not quite understanding what he meant. Then her nose suddenly wrinkled and an adorable frown marred her small brow. She leaned into him, sniffed once, and cast her frown up at him.

He resisted the urge to wince, feeling guilty. Which was dumb considering…well. Instead, he offered a wry smile and said, “Yeah. Can’t imagine you’d understand why I smell like—…why I don’t smell like your mom.”

“Where’s Mama?” she asked and that time he did wince. A single sniff of the air told him it was time to wrap this up. He didn’t want to see what would happen if she caught a glimpse of the kid.

“Alright,” he said roughly and cleared his throat. “Time to go. Your parents are probably worryin’ and wonderin’ where you ran off to.”

The tot blinked again and then smiled at him, so trusting. She started talking, her words slurred enough where he didn’t quite understand, but it didn’t matter. She seemed happy, and he supposed that’s what mattered. Then her eyes met his, her hand touched his cheek, and he had to close his eyes against the rush of emotion that swept over him in that moment. God, just the thought, the idea was enough to almost have him collapsing. How pathetic was that?

“Papa?” he heard and somehow, he knew she was asking if he was alright. His heart swelled even more and he released a shuddering breath.

"Yeah, kiddo," he murmured and stepped closer to the well. He paused and simply stared at her, taking in her brown eyes, dark hair, tiny bare feet, and the strange little red kimono she wore. Suddenly overcome with an urge he couldn't even hope to resist, he leaned forward and buried his nose into her hair, taking the chance to inhale her scent and commit it to memory. He smelled her, himself, and something floral and light and wonderful, and he had to wonder just who was she was. Who was the woman that loved a half-breed enough to be willing to…?

“Inuyasha.”

Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha leaned back and sucked in a breath before glancing over his shoulder, spotting familiar robes of red and white billowing in the breeze. He turned back to the pup in his arms.

"Yeah," he called back and released as low, shaky sigh. "Yeah. I'm coming, Kikyou."

Carefully shifting the pup around so he could hold her up with his hands beneath her arms, he simply held her in front of him for a moment, studying her cherubic features, her brilliant smile, the little bow in her hair that made it seem like she…like she had…

He blinked, and then laughed a little, the sound husky, low. She giggled in response and reached for him.

Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against the soft skin of her cheek. Her tiny arms went around his neck and the breath hitched in his throat.

Forcing himself to lean back, he gave the pup one last smile, just a slight quirk of his lips, and whispered, "See ya later, kiddo."

He leaned down, lowered her until he held her just beyond the lip of the well, and then let go. She fell and he was completely unsurprised to see a glowing blue light envelope the baby girl in its soothing magic and the last thing he saw before she vanished into the depths of time was her brilliant, laughing smile.

Inuyasha stood there for a moment more after she was gone, staring into the inky blackness of the well and then watching as a white butterfly landed on the lip, iridescent wings fluttering gently.

Another call of his name had him releasing a soft sigh but he was smiling as he turned around, for the first time daring to hope, to imagine what kind of life a half-breed like himself awaited him. And when his companion asked him what had happened, he merely shook his head, unable to reveal something that he would hold close to his heart for many, many years to come.

The butterfly lingered a few seconds more before fluttering away, a trace of old, invisible magic trailing behind it.

“Cereal isn’t a soup, Inuyasha. Cereal is cereal.”

“It is so a soup. It’s food floating in a liquid base. Soup.”

“Milk isn’t considered a broth, though. It makes the cereal gross and soggy, whereas a vegetable stock or something adds to the flavor.”

“Not if it’s Cocoa Puffs. Turns the milk into chocolate milk. And I usually eat it before it gets soggy, anyway. It’s fucking soup.”

“Mmm. Some broccoli cheddar soup sounds delicious right now.”

“You just had two cheeseburgers and a large fry from McDonald’s before your appointment. You can’t be hungry again already.”

“Tell that to your spawn that likes to use my bladder for kick practice. Hey, did you remember to pick up—”

“Yes, Kagome, I remembered to pick up the giant jar of pickles, a twelve pack of tuna fish, and a pint of cookie dough ice cream.”

“Mmm, I knew there was a reason I married you.”

“My hot, godly body.”

“Is it that obvious?”

The couple were laughing quietly as they crested the top of the shine stairs, Inuyasha supporting his heavily pregnant wife with a hand at her back as they climbed the last step. They hadn’t even taken two steps into the courtyard before they spotted a frantic Mrs. Higurashi running toward them, their two-year-old nowhere in sight.

Immediately Inuyasha was on alert while Kagome tensed beside him, her scent getting clouded with a hint of fear and anxiety as he tuned his senses to his surroundings. His ear flicked and he’d just turned his gaze across the shrine to an old structure when his mother-in-law finally reached them.

“Oh, Kagome, Inuyasha!” she panted, her eyes wide and her face pale; it was clear she was frantic with worry. “I’ve looked everywhere! I can’t find Moroha!”

Kagome whipped out a hand and clutched his arm, fingers digging in hard. “What—”

“I just turned my back for a minute to put away groceries and I—I guess I didn’t shut the door tight enough—”

“Inuyasha—!” Darting her gaze to her husband, Kagome was nearly as frantic as her mother, her face pale, her heart rate skyrocketing.

“Relax, Kagome,” Inuyasha calmly told his wife, his eyes looking somewhere across the shrine and his voice slightly distracted. “I know where she is.”

While Mrs. Higurashi put her hand over her heart and looked about ready to sob in relief, Kagome frowned at him and followed his gaze. “What do you—”

Without answering, Inuyasha headed toward the well house and bemused, but hopeful, mother and daughter followed after him.

He reached the well house only a short minute later and slid the door open the rest of the way before slipping inside. If his ears hadn’t already heard the barely there sound of a child’s soft voice echoing up from the depths of the well, his nose told him that his suspicious were correct. Without hesitation or sparing the two confused women behind him a glance, he vaulted himself over the lip and fell down the shaft.

Inuyasha landed with a quiet thud on the packed earth that layered the bottom and his daughter grinned up at him, safe and unharmed. He quirked a grin back and gathered her up into his arms.

"Runt," he said and tapped her nose with a clawed finger. "You gave your grandma quite the scare and nearly gave your mama a heart attack."

She giggled and smashed her hands over her mouth. "Sorry, Papa."

His smile was soft and slightly nostalgic. "So what did you think of your old man when he was just an impulsive whelp? Haven't changed a bit, have I."

Moroha considered this and then wrinkled her nose a second later. "Smelled weird. Not like Mama."

Inuyasha’s ears flattened and he sighed. "That was…a very old and…good friend of your dad's, pup. I haven't thought about her in a long time."

Moroha cocked her head and asked with a small frown, "You miss her?"

Inuyasha blinked and then cracked a wry grin. "Yeah. Sometimes I do."

"Moroha!"

"Hi, Mama!"

Wincing, Inuyasha glanced at his daughter and muttered, "Let's, uh, keep that part to ourselves, okay kiddo? It'll be our secret, just you and me."

Moroha’s eyes widened at the prospect of having a secret just between her and her papa and she nodded emphatically on agreement.

"Secret!" she whispered and then giggled, smashing her hands against her mouth.

"Secret," he agreed and kissed her forehead before promptly launching the both of them up and out of the well.

"Moroha!" Kagome cried and immediately reached for her. Mrs. Higurashi looked relieved and smiled before quietly leaving to go back to the house, figuring her daughter and son-in-law would explain later.

"She's fine," Inuyasha assured as he let his wife take their daughter into her arms. "Not a scratch on her."

"Sorry, Mama," Moroha said and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck as she tucked herself against her. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Shaking her head, Kagome looked for herself for any bruises or scratches anywhere on her little girl's body, but as her husband had said, she was perfectly fine. Befuddled, Kagome clutched Moroha to her chest and stared at Inuyasha with wide eyes, her face still a little paler than usual.

"What…how…Inuyasha…? I-I don't…"

Looking from his daughter, who looked just about ready for a nap as she rested against her mother, and to his wife who was staring at him with a slight frown and big, inquisitive eyes, Inuyasha allowed the smile he reserved only for his girls to curl his lips upward.

He stepped closer and kissed first his daughter's forehead, then his wife's before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started ushering her up the well house stairs then back outside.

"Have I ever told you about my time living five hundred years ago? During the Feudal Era?"

Still puzzled, Kagome answered in the negative. Inuyasha tucked her into his side as he stared up into the sky, smiling when he caught a flash of iridescent white among the intricate webbing of Goshinboku's tree branches.

"I remember one time," he began as he led his little family toward the house. "I was lounging in Goshinboku, just takin' it easy, when suddenly I hear the most peculiar sound coming from the well…"