(the party isn't over) we could still dance.
characters: kaede, rin, sesshomaru.
notes: returning to my roots.
…
She counts the days between each visit with gentle plucks of flower petals. Rin is fourteen, and the world is like a blossom in her palm, ready to burst open and display its beauty (and its beauty is her, alive).
"Child," Kaede calls from the front of their hut, and it is her voice that puts a halt to Rin's venture amongst the garden. She stands and her hair swings over her shoulder, a long plait that tickles the inside of her arm.
She knows he's here before she can see him.
Her voice is not quite saturated with ecstatic childishness, but there is something heartfelt, something personal in the way she speaks quietly, "Sesshomaru-sama."
The sun illuminates the length of his hair, the clear glint in his eyes, and he does not step any closer to her. Kaede lingers by the threshold of the door as Rin takes careful steps forward, reminiscent of days when she was younger, days when she skipped and sang in the midst of danger and death.
"Rin," he says reverently, holds out a wrapped package towards her, "you're well."
She can't help it. Rin giggles and takes the package from his hand, twirls away from him as she pries it open. And it is that moment it opens that Kaede's eye widens and she disappears inside to leave them alone.
Rin holds the delicate trinket in her hands, a bone-white comb with an ornate carved design. "When you bring me gifts," she turns the comb over into her small hands, "I truly think that you will remember me, Sesshomaru-sama."
Her eyes are honey-brown, staring up at him. Sesshomaru's features are passive, but there is a hardness in his eyes, a tension in his body.
"I see." His voice is quiet. "Even after all this time, you still must say such foolish things, Rin."
Her fingers pinch the end of her braid, drags the ribbon out of her hair to worry her comb within the strands of her hair. It is what consumes her time, detangling her hair with her brand new gift. She tips her head down with the comb wedged between the slips of her braid, and there is a frown on her lips.
"It isn't foolish," Rin says ardently, though she doesn't look up, "you will always live on. No matter how powerful you become, you can't keep me alive forever. You will live my life a thousand times over, I can't—"
Sesshomaru watches her, sighs gently. "It does not mean you will be forgotten, silly girl."
It bleeds across her features slowly, a smile that stretches across her lips. "I know it's not much," she holds her hand out, palm turned towards the sky, "but I will never forget you for the rest of my whole entire life."
She feels the scrape of his claws in her palm, against her lifeline, but he does not hold her hand. And Rin does not fault him for it. She looks at him, truly, closely, for the first time in the daylight.
There is something in his eyes that says good.