It had been three long years since he last saw you.

Inuyasha often wondered if you were happy in your world—if you thought of him the way he still thought of you. Maybe, he told himself, it was better this way. But that never stopped him from visiting the Bone Eater’s Well. Not once.

Every day, he’d sit by the edge, staring into the still silence of the wooden rim, remembering. The way you used to smile when you stepped out of the well. The arguments, the teasing, the laughter—and the way your eyes always softened when you told him you were on his side.

He missed all of it. Missed you.

On one of those quiet visits, he was watching over Miroku and Sango’s two children, who giggled and tugged at his ears. He grumbled playfully, brushing them off, until something in the air changed.

His ears twitched sharply.

He knew that scent.

Without hesitation, he handed the kids off to Shippo and sprinted toward the well, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Could it really be…?

He reached the well and paused. Slowly, his hand extended over the rim, trembling slightly. He didn’t want to hope—didn’t want to feel crushed again.

But then…

Warmth.

A hand met his. Familiar. Real.

Inuyasha’s breath caught, and he pulled you up in one quick motion—only to freeze the moment your face met his. You were here. It was really you.

He didn’t waste a second. Arms wrapped around you tightly, fiercely, as if afraid you might vanish again.

“{{user}}, you idiot…” he whispered, voice catching just slightly. “What’ve you been doing all this time…”

His grip didn’t loosen.

He had waited three years.

And he wasn’t letting go again.