If I was whole
I'd turn right now
I'd forget it and just walk away
Cause I've been told
That I'm dragging it out
But I've been dying just to see your face
Ricochet
Sesshomaru was mildly perturbed.
He couldn't fathom what the miko was thinking jumping into the spring with him – and after a bar of soap, no less.
It was difficult to see her through the dark, steamy water, but he could feel the disturbances she created in the pool.
She was unnervingly close to the submerged ledge he rested upon.
He felt her brush up against his shin just before she popped out of the water, directly in front of him. He barely caught himself from recoiling at her abruptness.
Preposterous, he thought as their eyes met.
Her hair, black as pitch, lie sleek over her chest and shoulders. Water ran in rivulets over her skin. Bright, blue eyes peered unflinchingly into his.
She wore a victorious grin as she held up the bar, triumphantly.
"Got it; and it only melted a little!"
"Magical," he deadpanned, waiting for her to vacate the hot spring.
She shrugged, moving around him to lift herself up onto the ledge, heedless of her well-nigh nudity. She was speaking but he tuned her out as he watched her from the corner of his eye.
It was at this moment that Sesshomaru noticed the miko had abandoned her hakama.
Despite his distaste for most humans, Sesshomaru was male and didn't pretend to be otherwise. He wouldn't apologize for immediately noticing Kagome's bare skin.
Her imperial purple fundoshi clung to her, pinked cheeks popping from beneath the trim. He appreciated the sight for a breath of time before his eyes trailed up to the tie at her hip. How easily it'd be to unravel the bow; how simple it'd be to divest her of the remainder of her clothing.
Sesshomaru shook his head subtly, his eyes snagging on a collection of injuries just above her undergarment.
Several puncture marks, freshly scabbed.
In the recesses of his memory, he vaguely recalled the scent of her blood and her stern words; the tight grip of a feminine hand upon his.
It was a fuzzy memory. One he would've discarded had he not seen the wounds on her skin.
He looked away, focusing his sight across the room as she settled herself once more behind him.
No longer were his thoughts of the deviant nature, though the warmth of her thighs spread across his back and shoulders.
He sighed softly as her fingers started in his hair once again, putting all thoughts from his mind.
With the exception of those imperial purple fundoshi.
He knew the dye was rare and exorbitant. His mother favored the color and flaunted it often.
Was the miko's business so lucrative that she could afford such a lavish article?
"You know…" Kagome said thoughtfully while rinsing his hair clean. "We have to wash your body next."
Though she couldn't see it, he lifted a bemused brow.
"I believe I am capable of washing my own body."
"But –!"
"Even with one arm."
Kagome sighed, mildly put out and equally amused, but she let the subject drop.
She was silent for a moment while she loosely braided his hair to keep it out of the way. Her hesitant intake of breath alerted Sesshomaru that she was preparing to speak again.
"Will you tell me what happened?" She asked softly, leaning forward to peer at him from over his shoulder.
He met her eyes, his face carefully devoid of emotion.
"While I am grateful to you for your assistance, miko, no; I will not discuss that with you."
He looked away, dismissing her with those words.
Why she was so keen to hear of his misfortune left him mystified. What purpose would it serve to share the sordid, macabre details with her? What could she possibly do to alleviate his sudden disadvantages? Or perhaps it was simply to relieve her of her own curiosities.
The High Council, for reasons unknown to him, were out for blood. His blood. And they wouldn't stop until they had what they desired.
He owed the miko a life debt, not an explanation. He'd heal, he'd take his revenge, and then he'd return her favor at some point in the future – he owed her nothing less than that. But, he owed her nothing more, either.
"If you wouldn't mind," he said, directing a pointed look over his shoulder as he moved away from the ledge and deeper into the pool. "I will finish washing. You can wait beyond the doors. And miko, do put some clothes on."
Kagome sputtered, barely able to reign in a flare of irritation. Huffing, she stood and grabbed a robe from a hook, donning it.
"Fine," she conceded irritably. "But the door stays open in case I'm needed."
"You won't be."
"Open," she repeated firmly before pointing at the pool. "That is my bathing pool. I'd rather not have to fish your dead body from it if you pass out and drown because you're too stubborn to accept help."
Ignoring her jab, he glanced at the doors before looking back at her.
The message was clear: get out.
"Ungrateful jerk," she mumbled half-heartedly beneath her breath as she walked out onto the veranda to take a post beside the doors, which to Sesshomaru's irritation were, indeed, left open.