Sorry for the long wait, my readers. I got caught up in a number of things and lost the time and the willingness to post. Hopefully, I'll do better in the weeks to come. Please read, enjoy, and review! - Lm. Samiko
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Stolen Seasons IX
Heat Stroke II
Lm. Samiko
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It was quite pleasant, Sesshoumaru admitted to himself. He had learned to swim as a small child but had not swum since, generally considering water something to be evaluated, drunk, or ignored as the occasion demanded. But the gentle resistance against his strong, even strokes felt good, as did the caress of the water against his skin. The occasional educational kick to the native predators was not an unwelcome diversion, either.
The woman chose a less active form of sea-bathing, swimming out a short distance and floating on her back, her hair fanning out around her, completely oblivious to everything--including the predators he discouraged. She was fortunate he was here to do so. Sesshoumaru took up a position near her, treading water easily as he pushed the hair from his face. "You should return," he commented.
A loud sigh escaped her. "I know. It's just so peaceful out here. No yelling, no fighting..." A grin formed on her features. "And a big, strong youkai to chase away the nasty critters." He blinked at her, feeling rather non-plussed. "Yes, I noticed. And thank you, Sesshoumaru. I appreciate your company. And your... ability to simply be there. With me, for me, whatever. I don't have many friends I can be silent with."
"Hn."
She laughed. Laughed! At him! "I swear, if you were a normal boy, you'd be blushing right now!" she teased. "But I'm glad you aren't. Still, you can't pretend you don't have any emotions anymore. Not to me you can't."
"Tch'. Emotions are useless things. They merely interfere with what must be done."
At that, she shifted in the water, hauling herself upright to tread water as he did. Facing him, her dark eyes locked with his own, she asked, "What happened, Sesshoumaru? What happened to make you think this way?"
For the briefest of moments, he considered answering her question. But his history was none of her affair. Whatever this bond was that had formed between them, it did not require that he divulge the details of his life. "Take hold of my fur," he said simply. "We have drifted quite far from shore."
"I can swim on my own," she remarked tartly even as she moved to obey him. He had found that he quite liked her touch, finding it soothing. She did not grip too tightly, as Jaken often did, nor did she reach too far into the fur to take hold of the sensitive core of bone and muscle. Making sure she was properly settled, he began the journey back to shore, angling for the small stream they had found to clean their clothes in.
He could feel her eyes on him as he emerged from the water onto land, hear the rapidity of her breathing and her heartbeat. Even as his eyebrows drew together in puzzlement, he preened a little, like any male under a female's admiring gaze. He shook the water from his fur, as any dog would do, pleased at its thick, heavy length and pristine color, before accepting the thick cloth the woman called a 'towel'. He was also vain of the delicate indigo stripes on his wrists and face, warning signs to others of his poison. Having finished drying his torso, he turned his attention to his buttocks and legs, frowning slightly at the damp feel of his fundoshi now that he was out of the water. Nothing for it but to let it dry in the sun. Finishing this area, he finally bent to reach the sets of stripes on his ankles, another point of vanity.
The sound of a yelp followed by a splash caught his attention again. The woman had slipped upon the rocks of the streambed, landing upon her backside and, for some reason, blushing a brilliant shade of crimson. He raised an eyebrow. Was she truly so clumsy? Remaining wordless, he offered a hand to help her up, which she accepted though she refused to meet his eyes. She dressed quickly after her stumble, the flush never quite leaving her face. Sesshoumaru watched her closely to determine if she was injured, but she seemed quite unharmed, save for what would probably become bruises, if the way she kept rubbing her buttocks and grumbling was any indication. Such things must truly be uncomfortable for humans, who took far longer to heal than youkai. But that was her affair.
Still, it would do no harm to follow her back to her comrades and ensure she returned safely.
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Author's Notes
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fundoshi - traditional Japanese underwear. Once described as "a glorified thong," a wide strip of cloth attached to a waistband is pulled from back to front between the legs and the end left apron-like in front. Alternatively, it can be tidily twisted and tucked in, as shown here: http/en. Either way, Sesshoumaru is perfectly welcome to wander by in one. ;-P