[It’s precisely because she knows how precious it is to hear something positive like that from Sesshomaru that Konoha hesitates to answer.
Trying to think of what to say, she settles somewhat heavily back to her belly, fingers still absently rubbing along the cloth he has brought. It had been her own fault, she knows, for not knowing for so long and letting herself hope in the first place... they’d mentioned it during the “orientation” on the moon, but they’d been on a moon, and almost everything told to her during that time hadn’t really registered at all.
And since then, she’d just been blithely assuming-]
The, um- The midwife I went to said that I’m barren.
[After months with no signs of pregnancy she’d finally gone to see one. Finally realized.
She knows there were far worse things to be. Dead, for example... sick, or crippled... but it feels like that to her. Like she’s been punched in the gut with those words and the sensation of the hit hasn’t faded at all, leaving her with an ache that threatened never to go away. An ache she couldn’t even really share well, when most of the women she’d spoken to here didn’t see the problem or seen worried about it at all.]
Not... just me, sorry. All of us here. They said they don’t know why, or how... but all the moonblessed turn that way when they come here. So. There’s not much point to it, I guess...
[To finishing the baby clothes she’d started, that now mocked her softly from her sewing basket.]
no subject
Trying to think of what to say, she settles somewhat heavily back to her belly, fingers still absently rubbing along the cloth he has brought. It had been her own fault, she knows, for not knowing for so long and letting herself hope in the first place... they’d mentioned it during the “orientation” on the moon, but they’d been on a moon, and almost everything told to her during that time hadn’t really registered at all.
And since then, she’d just been blithely assuming-]
The, um- The midwife I went to said that I’m barren.
[After months with no signs of pregnancy she’d finally gone to see one. Finally realized.
She knows there were far worse things to be. Dead, for example... sick, or crippled... but it feels like that to her. Like she’s been punched in the gut with those words and the sensation of the hit hasn’t faded at all, leaving her with an ache that threatened never to go away. An ache she couldn’t even really share well, when most of the women she’d spoken to here didn’t see the problem or seen worried about it at all.]
Not... just me, sorry. All of us here. They said they don’t know why, or how... but all the moonblessed turn that way when they come here. So. There’s not much point to it, I guess...
[To finishing the baby clothes she’d started, that now mocked her softly from her sewing basket.]