Four months.
A penance.
A crossroads.
A journey.
Four months arrives with the dawn, its light splitting through slatted window coverings to scatter across his bed, and Sesshoumaru wakes to wide, brown eyes blinking beside him.
Ice shocks his veins. "You are not here."
There's mischief, a smile. The young face looking back at him tilts against the pillow, truth spilling from rosebud lips. "I'm always here."
He tries to scowl, but the effort seizes under that truth, and he throws off the sheets.
Hollow and haunting, a giggle follows him into the bathroom.
"One day, she will be too."