LIGHT GREEN (REMEMBER)
Sesshoumaru wrestles with himself, over whether or not it's appropriate to give Rin such a gift. He doubts she'll make the connection, but the fabric has imprinted itself so deeply in his retinas that it doesn't matter. He sees it when he closes his eyes, and it's far simpler just to get it over with. If he gives it to the girl, then maybe it will stop haunting him.
As he'd thought, Rin doesn't make the connection. She thanks him happily, more excited for his presence than any gift he's ever given her. She's simple like that.
It isn't until weeks later, when he comes back for another visit, the pattern finally having disappeared from behind his eyelids―now associated with a different smiling face―that he thinks it might have been a mistake after all.
She's waiting for him out in the scent of spring is heavy in the air, damp and fresh, just after a rain. The fields haven't been tilled yet, too early in the season, given back to nature they've erupted with wildflowers and grasses, all white blossoms in a field of green. Rin is all too happy for the blooms, playing with the taijiya's cat and rolling in the grass, kicking up petals and blades of grass she's ripping out by the handful to shower on the cat.
Her giggling reaches his ears, a sound he's come to associate with peace, but it isn't until he's closer, close enough to make out the knots in her hair, the threads that make up her robes, that she notices his approach. She perks up, all smiles as she sits up on her knees and greets him.
He stops.
The violet of her robes have been smeared in green, grass stain splotches on her knees and elbows, one on her shoulder and across her chest from where she's been laying in the damp ground.
It is so painfully familiar, it's almost enough to make his head ache.
"Sesshoumaru-sama?"
He blinks. Reprimands himself for getting so caught up in a foolish memory.
Rin chatters to him about whatever is on her mind, village gossip, how Sango's new baby is doing, oblivious to his thoughts. His mind wanders, listening, but not quite present enough to process what she's saying, until he suddenly realizes that she's gone quiet.
Sesshoumaru looks up at her finally, curious, and sees what's gotten her attention.
A butterfly. Such a light shade of pink it's nearly white, has landed on the red of his left sleeve. Rin watches it with rapt awe as it gently flutters its wings, probably seeking out what it thinks is a vibrant flower. He watches it, too, such a tiny little thing, oblivious to the being it's chosen as its perch.
A breeze ruffles his fur, and the little butterfly is no match for its strength, as weak as it is. It takes to the air, hangs a moment and flutters in front of his face, wing beats thundering in his ears despite its size. And then it goes, much to Rin's dismay, floating away on the breeze, flower petals and grass stirred up in its wake.
And just like before, he can do nothing but watch it go.