It's the next evening when he finds himself in front of her home.

From wet streets, he glances at her door. It seems too far away, not even the welcoming light that shines behind her curtains able to ease the foreboding crushing his chest.

Tch.

He paces, heart echoing in his ears as the redolent scent of ozone follows on his heels. It's unforgiving, loud. And it drowns out his senses, an unwanted conscience retelling the mistakes that have lingered too long.

His jaw tightens. You hurt her.

Still, when her shadow darkens the light, Sesshoumaru makes for her door.