The minute door to the café opened, he knew. He knew and he cursed Kikyo for her duplicity in the matter. Her scent came to him, filling his being with memories, echoes of a recent past that had no business intersecting. Her voice was the same as that night almost two months ago, her scent mingling with that of the unknown woman at the grave. Irritation built within him, gathering in a tight coil in the pit of his stomach. What business had she at Rin's grave? What right had she to him now?
When Jean Claude, the Maître D', deposited her at his table, he floundered for a moment. Before him stood a woman he did not recognize; gone was the elegant clothing, the seductive make-up that he realized aged her several years. Before him stood a woman with more girlish appearance than he liked, a woman with sopping wet curls, pale skin and luminous blue eyes. It was the eyes that caught and held him, just as they had the night at the bar and the eyes that told him despite the drastic change in appearance, the woman-child before him and the seductive dream from his memory were one in the same.
Jean left with promises of warm tea after pulling out a chair for her, leaving two silent parties to do naught but stare at each other. The scent of fear curled thickly in the air and Sesshoumaru was hard-pressed to maintain his apathetic expression at the stench. When the girl did nothing but stare at him, shivering in her wet clothing and shaking hands, he sighed and motioned to the chair across from him. "Sit."
o.O.o
Word Count: 279
