This drabble as well as the next two were written for reader prompts received in January 2017.

Drabble Ten - Purple

Prompt: Dealing with Body Image Issues

Setting: Canon divergence

Genre: Drama

1,087 words

She was all alone and far from his foolish half-brother and his ragtag retinue of companions; a rather reckless disposition from a girl with such an uncanny penchant for trouble. He was quite prepared to severely admonish her – though why he cared he did not wish to subject to any closer inspection at the moment.

However, his ready reprimands vanished when he caught the sight of her. She sat by a small pond, shoulders hunched, tossing pebbles into the still pool of water and intently staring at the growing ripples.

For a moment, he simply stared – then the words tumbled out before he could stay them.

"Why is your hair purple?"

She startled at the sound of his voice and whirled around – but as her blue eyes met his piercing golden ones, she visibly relaxed.

Sesshoumaru was fairly sure he should feel offended by her utter disregard for deadly predators, himself included.

"What do you think?" she asked, tilting her head and raising her hand to the absurd-coloured strands framing her face. "Does it suit me?"

Sesshoumaru arched one very derisive eyebrow at her.

"I quite liked it," she continued, peering down at her reflection. "I thought of going for the bleach-blond thing first – you know, so I could get the total opposite – but I don't think that would've been a good look for me."

Sesshoumaru scowled. It was irritating that she had a penchant for babbling, more infuriating still when her speech was peppered with strange words of which Sesshoumaru could make no sense.

"I do not understand why anyone would wish for such a ludicrous hair," he replied coldly. It was also more than a little unsettling that he disliked it – not the baffling colour necessarily, but the length; he was rather sorry the perplexing priestess had chopped it so short it barely reached her jaw.

"No," she said thoughtfully, looking over at him. "I don't think you would understand."

Sesshoumaru stiffened. He did not care for that measuring look in her eyes.

"Perhaps you could try to explain your reasoning?"

She pursed her lips. Waved her hand. "Even if I tried I'm not sure you would get it. I mean look at you: that hair, those markings, your eyes. You're tall and manly and perfect. I bet you've never looked into a mirror and hated what you saw."

Sesshoumaru was taken aback enough that he managed a slow blink. He wasn't surprised that she would think him attractive – many mortal women found daiyoukai appealing or exotic.

He couldn't, however, fathom why she should be disappointed in her own reflection. He had never witnessed her expressing insecurities, she didn't lack for suitors, and she certainly didn't dress to hide her figure. Her long legs were frequently exposed, and her odd kimono did nothing to hide her chest, which, he couldn't help noticing, was very well rounded.

Even so, her assumptions were incorrect.

"Perfect?" he scoffed. "Hardly so, miko. I am marred, and not a day goes by when I would not be vexed by that which I lack."

The woman frowned. "Which you – oh." Her blue eyes grew round. She shifted nervously. "I'm so sorry, I was thoughtless and inconsiderate and –"

"I have no use for your apologies, miko. You were not the one who cut me."

"I did encourage him, though," she said, her voice soft and small, "at the time."

"At the time," Sesshoumaru spoke dryly, "my intention was to kill you both. I cannot fault you for cheering for your protector."

She shook her head, as if his reassurances only served to distress her further. "Still, it must be very frustrating for you. I couldn't imagine living without an arm. My own worries seem so petty now."

"If you care to talk about them, I will listen."

"I don't think I dare, when you have it so much worse."

"There is always someone who has it worse," Sesshoumaru said, exasperated at the miko. "No two people will react to a given situation the same way. One could easily brush off something that would wholly debilitate another. Your worries may seem petty to others, but to you they clearly are not."

"That's… nice of you to say." The miko blinked in surprise. "I wouldn't want to bore you though."

"Do you think my time so without value that I would volunteer it to listen just anyone's troubles?"

The miko fidgeted. "Well… if you are sure…?" She looked at him, hesitant.

"I am intrigued, miko, as to what would drive you to dislike your very own reflection," Sesshoumaru confessed. "I never thought you so insecure."

"I'm not – I don't want to be, at least…" She sighed. "I've always felt comfortable in my own skin, and I never really thought much about my appearance. Until I came here, that is."

"Why have you started then?" he asked, when she fell silent.

She hugged her knees and stared at the spare tufts of grass by her feet. Her reply was so quiet he had to strain to hear it.

"Inuyasha."

She lifted her head. Pain was clearly writ in the blue depths of her eyes, a sorrow he would have prior to this day believed the carefree priestess incapable of.

"The issue isn't what I look like; it's who I look like. I care for him, you know? A lot. That's why it's all the more painful… He has this look he gets, this faraway look in his eyes and I know. He might be looking at me, but it isn't me he sees."

She bit her lip, and ruffled her vibrantly purple hair as Sesshoumaru waited for her to continue.

"I've had enough; I can't take it anymore, always being compared to another, only valued as someone's reincarnation… I'm my own person, damnit! So I went and cut my hair. And dyed it purple. So I might look less like her." She shrugged.

"I suppose the colour does suit you, atrocious as it is," Sesshoumaru said at last.

She managed a little smile of gratitude. "Competing against a dead lover is bad enough, you know?" she said conversationally. "But it becomes just impossible when said lover doesn't stay dead."

"Hnn." Sesshoumaru took few slow steps to close their distance. He bent down, tugging at a purple strand of hair and curling it around his clawed finger.

Her startled blue eyes looked up into his cool golden ones.

"I always did think my half-brother was a great fool," Sesshoumaru remarked.