He flees to the shower.

Like pyre smoke, steam swirls and rises, testifying to the fluctuations of life. His vicissitude. Yet from the bedroom voices argue, the sound of a staff thumping the floor screeching over a little wraith's indignation.

"Rude child! Can't you see…"

He can't breathe.

"Jaken-sama is mean!"

Sinks to the floor.

"I am no such thing, spoiled girl!"

Wraps his arms around himself.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!"

Cracks.

One day.

Dark, delirious, his laughter echoes off the tile, water nearly scalding as silver strands frizz in the humidity.

One day, her voice will be the loudest of them all.