Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the touchable one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

Author's Note: In an effort to complete my unfinished fanfiction, I've kicked off a recurring event over on my KO – FI account, where I'll be hanging out (usually) on the fourth Saturday of every month. As of this posting (June 2021), the two stories I'm adding to are Vassal and Unexpected (IxK, Contemporary AU). Little by little, we'll see each story through. ::twinkle::

Level

Miroku would be grateful for the promised hot spring, but he needed food more. Turning a few skewers, he searched for pieces that were cooked enough.

Strange, how the help Sesshoumaru offered could still feel like torture.

The inu-youkai settled at Miroku's side, so close, they were touching. Indeed, the billow of fur seemed to arrange itself behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and looked questioningly at Sesshoumaru.

This was close quarters.

Closer than necessary.

If this was indicative of the revised behavior Sesshoumaru had promised, Miroku wasn't exactly comforted. Really, is it any wonder Inuyasha reaches for his sword every time his brother comes into view? Miroku could appreciate the instinct.

Part of it was the silence. You never heard him coming.

Some of it was the danger. At his whim, lives ended.

Sesshoumaru seemed both untouchable and untouched by anything around him, yet Miroku's shoulder now brushed his arm. Warmth. Solidity. There was even a faint scent that the vassal was beginning to associate with his lord. All of which—oddly enough—put them on a level.

They were alive.

They were here.

They would eat and bathe and rest and walk on, often in silence. Unless Miroku faced this indomitable force and spoke his mind. "Why are you sitting so close?"

"Closeness inspires confidences."

"You want me to confide in you?"

"Hnn." Plucking a skewer from the fire's edge, Sesshoumaru presented it to him. "That would simplify matters."

Miroku took the food, though not a bite. "Does the adage really mean proximity in the physical sense? Or the intimacy shared by old friends?"

"For inu-youkai, one implies the other."

"It does not necessarily work that way for humans."

"Even so, this is necessary." Sesshoumaru thrust another skewer on him. "You are not accustomed to me. I am not accustomed to you. This must change."

"You… will not make the same mistake if you understand me better?"

Sesshoumaru leaned much closer than was comfortable. "The only mistake would be allowing you to persist in ignorance."

Miroku's temper flared. He wasn't to blame for all of this. But Sesshoumaru looked prepared to feed him if he didn't start feasting. So he took a bite… and quickly followed it with another. And sighed in pleasure over the savor.

This was the life.

This was living.

And even if this life was no longer entirely his, it had its moments.

End Note: This chapter was helped along by a prompt from FoxOfTwilight, who contributed the word "Feast" 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 #2, Theme #83, Old Friend. 400 words, originally posted on June 26, 2021.