Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.

Family Past

Inuyasha looked at the expectant faces around the low table. No one was ready to eat, once Grandpa Higurashi had asked his question, so they had gathered here to talk, instead. He had sent Souta to fetch the precious bag that he had carried with him for so many years. Now, it lay before him.

He felt a little scared. This was the last thing he had promised himself to do, before seeking a sleep without wakening. But, now that he had reached this point, he was afraid. What if this was the last thing Kagome's family wanted from him? What if, once he had said his piece, they turned him out? He was only a very old, tired hanyo, who didn't really belong anywhere.

Mama met his eyes and smiled at him. "Take your time, Inuyasha," she said gently. "We're in no hurry."

Her words reassured him. He knew his fear was groundless-she would never turn him out. Looking down at his gnarled, clawless hands a moment, Inuyasha took a deep breath, met Grandpa's eyes, and began.

"Kagome died in my arms, when she was about eighty-nine," he stated softly. "We had three children who survived childbirth, and at that time, four grandchildren. She said that she never regretted her decision to come back to me."
He swallowed against a sudden surge of memories and stinging eyes. Looking down, he started working on the knots fastening the old, heavily patched bag. "I know she missed all of you, a lot. She'd talk about you… the kids loved her stories." The knots came free. Carefully, he pulled out the package, wrapped in heavy, waxed paper, fastened with heavily-frayed cords. Inuyasha worked on untying the cords, but years of rubbing against cloth had felted the knots into lumpy masses.

"Would scissors be okay?" asked Mama, when Inuyasha had been working in vain for several minutes. Flashing a glance at her, he nodded, then snatched his gaze back down to the package.

She left the room and returned quickly, returning with a pair so small he doubted he could handle them. Patting him on the shoulder, Mama quickly, she ran the scissors through the cords. Another pat, and she returned to her seat on the left, setting the scissors in front of her.

Freed of its ties and opened, the paper revealed another wrapping of a brilliantly-green silk. With that folded back, the contents were revealed-a small stack of folded papers, each fastened with various colors of thin, silken cords.
The top item was fastened with a cord of red and white. Breaking a wax seal, Inuyasha carefully opened the ancient paper, hands trembling, apprehensive about what he would find. It had been so many years since the contents of the envelopes had been sealed away. What if they…?

A blank paper lay on top a second. With his nails, he raised that paper and set it aside, then looked down. Relief swept through him, and tears gathered, as he stared at the image.

"My friend, Miroku: when he realized I was going to-to outlive everyone, had this idea. His youngest son was a painter for the temples, but was always willing to do small pieces for his family and friends… it … became a tradition for awhile…"
He picked out the outside paper, turned it around and placed it in the center of the table. "Masashi painted this after she died. I planted the cherry tree by the house the first year, and it was her favorite kimono…"

Grandpa pulled the papers towards him, and the other two gathered close. Inuyasha lowered his head, hands on top of the other portraits of his family past as he waiting for the verdict.

"Beautiful." Two old men looked up and met each others eyes, Higurashi's overflowing. "Thank-you … grandson."

Author's Notes: This was written for the prompt "Family", for the Inuyasha Fanfiction community. A shorted version of this piece was posted to that site on January 27, 2013. It won the contest. (12/3/2013)