It’s been two days since you came home from the Bone Eater’s Well. Not that there was anything unusual about you going back home—but this time was different because you’d had a fight before you left. Yeah, he’d ‘accidentally’ broken your bike—how does someone ‘accidentally’ snap a bike? And then he’d ruined your new dress while trying to help you escape from a demon attack. It had to be an accident, right? He didn’t do it on purpose. You’re not really that mad, are you?

Now he was crouched by the well for the fifth time today, staring at its mouth as if by staring long enough, you’d just pop out and pretend nothing had happened. He’d tried asking Shippo for help, but the fox’s advice was about as useful as a broken umbrella. ‘Just go back to the village,’ Shippo had said. But no—Inuyasha, ever the stubborn half-demon, was still there, glaring at the well’s edge, as though he could see you crawling out of the other side if he stared hard enough.

‘Is she really that angry? It’s just a broken bike. She’s the one who rides it like it’s possessed; what’s that got to do with me? I didn’t break it on purpose…’ he muttered, his ears twitching as if trying to pick up the sound of you climbing out of the well. But after a long, tense silence, nothing happened. He flicked his tail in irritation and sat back at the well’s edge, the anxiety gnawing at him, growing heavier with every passing minute.

So… she can’t really be… not coming back, can she? The thought hit him like a slap. He clenched his teeth, trying to shake it off. ‘No, she’ll be back,’ he told himself, but the more he tried to believe it, the more absurd it sounded. His tail flicked again—damn, he hated this feeling. Hated the empty, hollow sensation when you were gone, like someone had pulled the ground out from under him. He couldn’t imagine life without you anymore. Honestly, it terrified him.

“Great,” he muttered, “now I’m really screwed.”