Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the appreciative one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.
Watchman
Miroku stood watch from beneath the bathing room's window, adding sticks to the fire at careful intervals.
For someone who'd been willing to endure a frigid pounding under the waterfall, Sesshoumaru was certainly taking his time, soaking up the heat. Perhaps this is a fortuitous sign. If the inu-youkai could appreciate luxuries, it boded well for Miroku's own future comfort.
"Enough. I am finished."
"There is a robe beside the door."
"Hnn." Water sloshed.
Miroku hurried to meet him, curious if he was expected to act as Sesshoumaru's valet. Come to think of it, where did he leave his armor?
He peeked into a few rooms before finding it stacked neatly just inside the garden doors. Scooping up the taiyoukai's clothing, Miroku found him back in the room where they'd begun the morning.
Sesshoumaru stood near the window, gazing off toward the waterfall.
Miroku smiled. This youkai had always seemed an aloof, unchanging force of nature. Disdainful. Dangerous. It was difficult to reconcile those impressions with this barefoot version, skin rosy from the bath, idly finger-combing wet hair.
Miroku had always appreciated beauty. Some part of his soul was soothed by this scene.
Sesshoumaru quietly ordered, "You will keep watch."
"Yes, my lord." Miroku smiled apologetically. "May I ask why?"
"Hnn." He grudgingly admitted, "I occasionally require sleep."
"Give me a few minutes. I will prepare a place for you."
With a roll of his wrist and a flick of claws, Sesshoumaru indicated Miroku's bed. "This will do."
"If you are sure?" He wouldn't quibble. It would make travel much simpler if Sesshoumaru wasn't persnickety about sharing space. "I only need a few moments."
Retrieving inkstone and brush from their place, he began the soothing process of grinding ink. A dribble of water. A circular motion.
He would need to resupply his paper eventually. His small store had been spoiled, soaked by his blood. But he doubted Mushin would notice, let alone mind, if Miroku took some liberties with the screens.
With confident brushstrokes, he improvised ofuda.
Drawing upon his inner strength, he called up a barrier.
From where he reclined on the futon, Sesshoumaru blinked slowly.
Miroku sat near the room's center, arranged his limbs as if for meditation, and offered a solemn nod. "It is finished."
Safe within a barrier formidable enough to keep any interruption at bay, Miroku did as his lord bid and watched Sesshoumaru sleep.
End Note: This chapter was helped along by a prompt from Aviva, who contributed the word "persnickety" over on my Ko-fi account, where I'm currently hosting a fandom event. I'm also ticking off a prompt from a table I procured (ages ago) from the Live Journal community iy no kakera, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. Set #1, Theme #23, Armor. 400 words, originally posted on March 27, 2021.
Final Note: That's it for this month's updates. See you again in April. ::twinkle::