Your eyes question me yet again. 

Why? Why have I not asked my question to you?

I see it in your stormy eyes every time I walk up to a girl and ask my question. 

"Will you bear my child?"

Five words. Five simple, everyday words. 

And yet, I have not asked you. 

The reason for that is simple, and does not lie in any fault of yours, real or imaginary. But rather mine.

I cannot.

It is too selfish of me to ask you. My family line carries two deadly curses. One visible, one not. And I do not wish for either to touch you.

The Kazaana I carry in my right hand is the curse everyone knows of. Naraku, the villain, gave it to my grandfather, to pass down the family line until it is extinguished. 

My family... I am the last one. When, or if, I die, my line dies with me. 

Which is what makes the other curse so devastating. 

"Will you bear my child?"

It seems so simple, does it not? A roll in the hay, maybe a couple of moonlight nights. Wait nine months and my line lives on.

At the cost of an innocent life. 

My Grandfather had no brothers or sisters. No siblings, and no cousins, at least not on his father's side. 

Neither did my Father.

Nor I. 

It is a curse, that when a child is born, it is at the price of the Mother. The woman dies, but the child lives on. 

It's been this way for countless generations. No one knows why, it is a quiet sorrow that we keep to ourselves.

"Will you bear my child?"

I'm not asking if they are willing to bed with me, or bring a new life into this world. They could get that from many other sources.

I'm asking if they're willing to die. 

And that is why I cannot ask you my question, Sango. I do not wish to see you hurt, much less dead. 

But, when the time comes, I will ask you for something else. Something far more personal.

I will ask you to live. 

As the Mother of my child. 

The rip in my hand is becoming more and more powerful. I can feel this everyday, every time I use the it. And despite the optimistic front that I give to Kagome-sama, I honestly do not believe that I will survive this war with the devil, Naraku.

So I would ask you not to bear my child, but something infinitely more precious than that. When I am gone, I would ask of you to raise him. Teach him. About life, about living, maybe even about me. 

To share your strength with the next generation. Because it is too precious to die. You are too precious to me. 

But not yet. Not now. But some day. Eventually, I will.

And that will be my question to you.

Fin.