#Fair warning: I went out of my way to phonetically spell Inuyasha’s accent

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag Week, day 3: Bickering

My ideal papayasha is, apparently, sort of a combo of Bandit Heeler from Bluey, and Beleth and Asmodeus from Hell's Belles. Especially in modern au’s where he'd have access to real therapy.

@inukag-week

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What Makes Us Tick

Inuyasha sighed softly as he approached the school, bracing himself for whatever awaited him beyond the front desk. Frankly, he was just relieved that he didn't have any meetings that day - just a stack of paperwork he could easily afford to put off for a few hours while he figured out what was going on with his kid.

He hadn't been too thrilled to hear that Moroha had gotten into a fight with a friend. It wasn't the first time she had argued with a classmate, but physical violence was new. At the very least, he could be glad that he had gotten the call instead of Kagome. For as wonderful and understanding as his wife could be, she struggled to comprehend how disagreements could come to this point the way he did; he'd been there.

When he spotted her sitting in the office through the window, he was puzzled to see her looking so upset. Red-faced and teary-eyed, looking more the victim than the assailant. He didn't see Miki, the girl Moroha had fought with, but he had been told the other girl had received a bloody nose as recompense for whatever she said that set Moroha off, so odds were good she was in the nurse's office.

Pushing the glass door open, he made eye contact with the secretary. She smiled, but he could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

“Thanks for coming, Mr Higurashi,” she sighed in lieu of a standard greeting. He saw Moroha twitch when he was addressed, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

“No problem. Any clue what happened?”

“Well, the girls had some sort of disagreement before class, and things boiled over during recess, but neither one would say what the fight was about,” she hummed standing to open the door for him so he could join them in the office. “Moroha has been inconsolable all day..”

Before he even had time to ask about a meeting with the teacher or principal, one of the chairs clattered, and he found his six-year-old suddenly latched around his legs, blubbering into his thigh.

“Papa, please don't break up with mama!”

The wail caught both Inuyasha and the secretary off guard. Chuckling awkwardly, he shook his head, carefully unwinding her arms from him and taking a knee in front of her.

“Momo, what on earth are you talking about?” he asked softly, wiping her tears with gentle fingers. She threw herself into him again, burying her face in his neck and continuing to plead with him but not explaining further.

With a soft sigh, he wrapped her into a tight hug, scooping her up and turning to the secretary.

“Seems like we need to have a conversation. You mind if I just take her home for the day? If the principal wants to have a meeting, we'll all come back after school hours, and we can start fresh tomorrow.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Thank you, mister Higurashi.”

“Anytime,” he assured with a nod, leaning his catch his daughter's eye. “Not anytime-anytime. Don't go getting any clever ideas on me.”

Moroha gave a hiccup of a giggle, then sniffled, tucking closer to hide beneath the curtain of his hair. He signed her out of the office without any further fuss, keeping her tucked close and rubbing her back as they left the school.

He walked in silence for a few blocks, giving Moroha a chance to gather herself. It broke his heart to see her so hurt, and terrified him that her state had to do with her perception of his relationship with Kagome.

“Alright, pup, you feelin’ a little calmer?” He asked, waiting until he got a tentative nod in response. “Glad to hear it. So, you wanna tell me what got you so upset with Miki?”

He felt her breath hitch at his words, but after another moment, she sat up a little, still not meeting his gaze.

“M-Miki saw you n’mama fightin’ this morning, a-and she- she said that, when mamas and papas fight, it means they're gonna break up, cuz they don't l-love each other anymore,” she sniffled, clearly trying so hard to stay calm and keep her voice even. “An’ I told her, that was stupid, cause you love mama so much, an-and mama loves you - then she said I was stupid, cuz people who love each other don't fight, and- I just got so mad…”

“So that's why you thought..” Inuyasha sighed, reminding himself that the person on the other end of this fight was his daughter's age and was not an appropriate target for the anger he felt at Moroha's devastation, and he could not call a child stupid while they weren't around to prove it, even if it would make his own kid feel better.

He tilted his head up towards the sky, humming understandingly. He thought back to the beginning of their relationship - remembered blow-up fights, unkind words said in anger that they didn't mean, even when they said them. Arguments that some might say should have been their undoing. Compared to the way they used to go at it, their disagreement this morning hadn't even been a fight. Just little snipes about some stupid thing or other; bickering banter.

Chuckling with a bit more humor, he maneuvered Moroha up so she could ride his shoulders the way she usually preferred, his hands keeping hold of her feet and ankles.

“Okay. Here's the deal, pup; Miki might've been right if she was talking about someone else. But if mama and I were gonna break up over a fight, it would have happened a long time ago.”

“Are you s-sure?” she asked, still sniffing occasionally but seeming truly calm now.

“Very sure,” he insisted, tilting his head back to look at her. “Momo, your mama and I have been fighting since the day we met. We've known each other for sixteen years, and we've been doing relationship together for almost fifteen of ‘em. I'll spare you the math problem, but simply put, we've had lots of time to have lots of fights.”

He looked back at the path ahead of them and felt her cross her arms on top of his head.

“For some people, yeah, Miki has a point. Sometimes couples say awful, cruel things to each other, hurt each other, and decide they can't be together anymore. Some couples fall out of love that way.”

Moroha whimpered overhead, and he squeezed her little ankles.

“The trick is,” he continued, “Mama and I have spent years gettin’ good at arguing, so we know how to fight without hurting each other.”

“How's that?” The child asked, clenching her fists in her father's hair and making him wince.

“Well… you like wrestling with me, yeah?”

“... Yeah,” she affirmed, and Inuyasha could hear the shy smile in her voice

“Right! I like it, too. Because you and me, we're tough. And we like to roughhouse and play-fight, cuz it's fun for us. But if when we wrestle, if I started doing things that actually hurt you, you probably wouldn't have as much fun, would you?”

“Well… no…”

“Yeah. And same goes for me, because it's fair and normal to not wanna be in situations that hurt you. It's like that; Same rules apply for your mama an’ me. When we fight, we're just… wrestling with our words instead of our bodies. And it took practice, y'know - we used to fight just for the sake of hurting each other when we first met. But that wasn't fun for either of us, especially when we became friends. We didn't wanna hurt each other anymore, so we had to talk about it and stop using those things against each other in arguments.”

When they reached the house, Inuyasha took her down off his shoulders so they could go through the door without receiving head trauma. Once inside, he set her on a barstool by the island counter. Her eyes looked significantly less red than they had when he'd first picked her up. Leaning on the counter beside her, he ruffled her hair, smiling into big brown eyes that reminded him so much of her mother.

“Me an’ Mama’re very opinionated people - it means we feel strongly about all kinds of stuff. So we fought over who was right a lot. We still do. But we're always respectful of each other when we disagree, and we don't keep track of who's right more.” He paused, considering his own words. “Well- unless there's something at stake, like who has to do a chore or run an errand. But then, we're really just trying to work together to find a solution that suits us both, and makes sure neither of us are getting stuck doing more chores more often without making it fair.”

He slipped her hair tie out as he spoke, running his fingers gently through her hair to straighten out the tangles and catch the flyaways before putting it back up. Moroha hummed, even smiling when his long nails gently scritched at her scalp the same way Kagome did when he did it to her.

“Stuff other people hear as arguing is just us play-fighting, like when you and I wrestle. Do you… understand what I mean?”

“I think so… Wrestling is fun, so that makes sense,” she murmured, crossing her arms on the counter. “So… you guys aren't breaking up?”

“Absolutely not,” he assured, rubbing her back again. “You were right, Moroha, mama and I love each other so, so much. You might be surprised how much time I spend thinking of ways to make sure she knows how much I love her, because she's so good at making me feel loved, and I want to make her feel just as good. The only way we're ever gonna stop being together, is if us not being together is in some way better for you. Do you think you'd be better off if we broke up?”

“No!”

“Neither do we,” he agreed with a smile. “We are gonna have to have a talk about hitting people, because that's really not okay, and we can't just hit every person who says things that upset us, no matter how easy and fun it might be. But I'm glad we got the Love and Arguing thing cleared up. Y'know, if we didn't fight like we do, you might not even be here."

“What?”

“Okay! How about you go get changed out of your uniform, and I'll scoop us some ice cream?"

“Ice cream!” Moroha jumped down from her stool, bolting down the corridor and up the stairs to her bedroom. Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned to the fridge, pulling out the promised ice cream. Oh, he really hoped she wouldn't bring that up later, after he let his guard down. His daughter did not, at any age, need to know about the disagreement that led to her conception.

“Nicely done.”

He'd never admit to having jumped a little, but he did turn around and flash a grin.

“Thanks,” he said, offering his free arm to the woman leaned against the doorway to their office, fond adoration lining her eyes and curving her smile. She stepped forward, hands sliding around his middle as she leaned up to kiss him. He held her close and kissed back happily, pulling away just enough to see her eyes. “What're you doing home?”

“Called the school back on my way there, and they told me you signed her out a few minutes before, so I just figured I'd meet you here,” she hummed, running her fingers through his long hair. “That all sounded really heavy, but it seemed like you handled it really well. But I’m definitely missing context, so why don't you fill me in while I get out the sundae stuff?”

They fell into an easy rhythm while Inuyasha recounted the past half-hour or so and they set about dressing up glass bowls for their ice cream and putting out various toppings. Kagome was, as he'd predicted, very not thrilled that Moroha had gone and hit someone. But given the fight that had led to that, she was a little more willing to call it mostly even. She commented that they should probably call Miki's parents to discuss things - she and Moroha were usually quite close, and they'd gotten close to her parents as a necessity, so hopefully they could get both girls to apologize and that relationship could be healed.

Moroha came back in her favorite red romper and threw herself into her mother's arms, accepting her scolding for resorting to physical violence before sitting down to a bowl of ice cream that she ate happily.

“While I'm thinking of it,” Kagome hummed, setting her bowl in the sink, “I have something for you.”

“Yeah?” Inuyasha asked, dumping his last scoop into Moroha's bowl while her back was turned.

“Yeah. S'in the bedroom,” she nodded, taking his hand to lead him there. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned at his daughter before disappearing down the hall.

“You mentioned how our fighting is the reason Moroha's around,” she reminded him, bringing a blush to his face.

“It slipped out, yeah. Think I recovered pretty well, though.”

“You did,” she agreed, letting his hand go when they reached their room and going to her bedside table. “And… you remember that big fight we got into at that watch party Sango and Miroku had two months ago?"

“... Heh, yeah, I remember that,” he chuckled. “Remember that after party we had when we got home, too.”

“Good. Means I don't have to explain how this happened,” she grinned, turning around and offering him a small box, somewhat long and thin, like a bracelet box. White, with a silver bow. His eyes went wide as he took it from her hands, looking up at her as if to ask if this was really happening. She gestured for him to open it, but her beaming smile was all the confirmation he needed. Still, the sight of the two little pink lines brought tears to his eyes.

“Oh my God, Kagome.”

He set the box down and scooped her up around the waist, swinging her around until she laughed in his arms. He looked up at her, haloed in warm afternoon sunlight from the window, and he thought to himself (as he often did) that he had never loved her more than he did right then.

“I love you,” he hummed, hitching her legs on his hips to support her weight. “Thank you so much, Kagome, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she smiled, tearing up a little as she wrapped her arm around his neck, her other hand cupping his face. “You and our children mean the world and more to me. And I cannot wait to fight with you for the rest of my life.”

“Rest of my life. You're not getting away from me first, you're stuck with me, wench.”

“Bold of you to assume I'll let you die at all, then!"

“If I'm not allowed to die, you don't get to either!”

Kagome giggled, leaning down to kiss him. He kissed back, setting her on her feet so he could run his fingers through her hair.

“Shall we say, as long as we both shall live?” She suggested, dark eyes sparkling.

“Every version, every lifetime, Kagome.”