When he was a boy, they held him close, stroked his hair and showed him love. Once mother had passed on, the young hanyou quickly learned hands inflicted pain and could be used to show hatred of whom he was and what he represented. It was at their hateful hands his boyish heart heartened and he learned not to trust humans.
It was from the hands of his brother he learned to fight, to be strong, to show the world and Sesshomaru he was more than just a half-breed. He fought to show he was worthy to exist. He used his hands to earn respect, one demonic fight at a time.
From her hands, he experienced the pain of betrayal for daring to believe that a human woman could love him. In his final moments of consciousness, he felt the pain of the arrow, shot by her hands. As darkness descended, he could only wonder why did she hurt him.
Her hands brought him out of the darkness. They were the first hands to touch him in friendship. Her hands helped him open his heart and taught him to trust again. From her hands, he discovered true love and the meaning of acceptance. Now as he held the symbol of their love in his hands, he remained in awe. As he watched the sleeping babe, he knew he do everything in his power to make sure his son only knew loving hands.