Morning comes quietly.

The first beams of light stir Sesshoumaru from sleep, and he stretches, his back curving over the arm of the couch as he does.

A weight shifts on his chest.

Arms still over his head, he stiffens and looks down to find the miko curled against him. Her lips are parted, dark lashes dusting sleep-flushed cheeks, and she breathes softly, her fingers tangled in his shirt over his sternum.

It's…not unpleasant.

Careful not to wake her, he relaxes his stretch and settles his arms around her, closing his eyes once more.

Perhaps peace isn't so fleeting.