The past surrounds them.

His heels touch down on bone, crushing weak, decayed fragments, and he lets her down, noticing how she doesn't flinch as she walks across death—right to where hers almost happened.

She pauses there, the scent of her anxiety spiking the air. It's tinged with a queer mixture of nostalgia and fear, and he stills as she reaches out.

Her hand hovers from the petrified edge of his poison.

"Is it safe?" she asks, her voice soft and trembling.

Sesshoumaru blinks, something beyond words sinking painfully deep. "Yes."

She closes her eyes, gathers her courage. "Okay."