"You remind me of someone."
The miko had permitted him to walk with her, but now his feet hesitated.
So far, there had been no indication she knew of his true identity, and something akin to guilt was gnawing at Sesshoumaru's insides the longer he kept up the human facade.
She had once confided in him her affinity for his faithfulness to the truth. The confession had come on the heels of a particularly gruesome incident involving his brother and his inability to stay away from his dead lover.
The miko had nearly paid with her life—and likely would have, if Sesshoumaru had not been passing through.
She'd never looked at his brother the same way again.
