The children curl into him without fear.
They fall asleep quickly, the kit against his side and Rin in his arm, wrapped in the mokomoko for warmth. It's peaceful. Comfortable. But Sesshoumaru lies awake, his eyes on the stars.
"Milord?"
His eyes slide to the imp. "What is it, Jaken?"
"The miko, Milord…human…" Jaken's voice chokes with his audacity. "Why?"
Why?
He almost doesn't answer, but it unexpectedly slips out into the night. "Because when she breathes, this One does as well."
Jaken sputters. "But, Milord, your father—"
"Enough Jaken." Sesshoumaru closes his eyes. "I am not him."
