Hands
Sango could remember her father's favourite saying: look at someone's hands and you know who they are.
Kagome's hands were gentle and delicate, yet over time they were grew strong, holding a bow and an arrow steadily. Still her touch on wounds of her friends was tender and caring. Her hands were always moving, as if tracing invisible patterns, especially when she was explaining some stuff to others. Those were hands of a caring, kind person and thaat was who Kagome was.
Inuyasha's hands seemed to be the total opposite of Kagome's. Calloused, big and rough, each finger crowned with a deadly, sharp claw. Yet Sango saw those hands more than once carryimg their friends to safety. His hands were often hidden in his sleeves, moving only when he wanted to do something. Those were hands of a person always ready to protect what they loved and cared for. While Kagome was
Shippou's hands were always moving, small and fragile looking. Yet there was no fear in their movements, there was playfullness and confidence in his friends to help him if needed. His fast tricks could easily change into battle spells thanks to cleverity of the young fox. His hands were of a child who was learning about his powers and finding his path in life.
Miroku's hands were hands of a...
A hand rested where it shouldn't rest. At least without a permission.
"Pervert!" Sango offered the monk her own hand. Hard. Against his cheek.