Sesshomaru knows her.
Just as he knows himself, he knows her as she alights upon his outstretched fingertips.
He pulls her in, slowly so as not to frighten her away.
She is a brilliant blue, as always, her iridescent wings fanning out before tapering into narrow droplets.
It happened as he patrolled through the forest that surrounded his father's lands – now his lands. Normally, he wouldn't have even noticed, save for that particular feeling he'd only ever gotten twice before. The feeling of oneness, of wholeness.
Of rightness.
Her aura emanated from her far more impressively than her small, diminutive body should've allowed for. And he knew her.
There she was, finally returned to him again after two long centuries.
You have been gone so long, he thought, drawing nearer on silent feet.
Her prismatic blue wings fluttered, rustling the delicate petals of the cherry blossoms upon which she rested.
"You have come to me as a butterfly this time," Sesshomaru said softly, lifting his hand toward her in hopes she could find her rest upon him instead. "Will you look after me once more?"
She takes flight from the blossom, and as she lands on Sesshomaru's sturdy fingertips, he feels a heaviness lift from him – one that had been present since his father's betrayal and death.
A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he rotates his fingers as she moves along their edges.
Such a delicate creature, with wings like paper, and a body so easily broken. Her life could be snuffed out in the blink of an eye.
And how long would he have her this time, anyway? The life of a butterfly is fleeting at best – more so than an animal, more so than a human.
But time was not on his side, not where she was concerned. And one could not presume to entrap a butterfly when they are meant to fly. So, when she beats her wings and takes to the skies, he follows in her wake.
He watches as she disappears into the great blue, knowing she'd return to him again.
And she does.
Seven nights later, iridescent blue wings catch the light of the moon as she flutters through the open shoji to the lord's rooms. Settling herself upon his chest, he hardly dares to breathe. This is the moment he both desired and feared – the moment she returned to him, and the moment she left him once more.
Such a fleeting life she had.
As her gentle breathing ceases, he prays her next life would endure far longer.