"Can I sleep with you?"
Sesshoumaru paused, strands of silver hair caught between lithe fingers.
The kit hesitated in the doorway, rubbing his eyes as he stifled a yawn.
"Why?"
"I had a bad dream." His expression was pitiful, reminding Sesshoumaru that the boy hadn't even seen his first century yet.
And of the trauma he had suffered.
If Inuyasha had not already disposed of the Thunder Brothers, Sesshoumaru would've done so himself. There was a special place in hell for those who threatened children.
A simple incline of his head had the kit scrambling into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and burying his face in lush pillows.