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XIII.
She was doing it again... walking.
He noticed that since joining the group, she had always worn a tight–fitting pair of hakama – much to his disappointment. He missed the green little cloth that wrapped around her hips and fell just below her buttocks. It showed off her legs, which these... "pants"... did not. The white shirt, however, had remained on her person.
Sesshoumaru liked to walk behind the group some, to watch the miko's hips swing from side to side as she walked. He now knew why the monk liked to hang behind the others, but the thought of Kagome with the lecherous man made him somewhat sick and only a little jealous – at least the monk was a probable candidate in the running for her affections.
Not that he would like to be considered a candidate or anything (because that was just absurd!); it was just that such looks should not be wasted on something so... so...
... common.
Of course, that didn't go to say that he thought her beautiful, in fact, as far as youkai went, she was rather plain.
His mother was another story completely, although, the young woman had won the cantankerous bitch over with her little collaring 'trick' – it had only lasted a day, and then he had demanded she take it off at once, but thank God they'd never found the activating word. He didn't even want to think about what disasters that would herald.
Sesshoumaru's hand twitched as the monk stepped a little closer to the duo.
That man, despite the broad horizon of knowledge he possessed, really grated on his nerves. How had he joined the group anyway?
And then there was the half–breed.
Sesshoumaru's brow ticked.
Inuyasha had kept an irritatingly close watch on him – making sure to keep an eye on him at all times: sleeping on a branch of the tree stationed diagonal from him, when they stopped for breaks, and, most annoyingly, whenever he spoke to the miko.
The possessive pup didn't like him "sniffing" – the miko's term – around what he considered his own. She had then gone on to explain, in detail, that she was not his. After five minutes, Sesshoumaru had felt he'd been adequately informed, and had politely excused himself from the conversation, and her company.
Meaning, he had walked away with no explanation.
He suspected Kagome was still smarting over that.
It didn't matter, though. His time was precious, and not to be wasted on such trivial things as who belonged to who, and where said who belonged. Although, he couldn't say he hadn't felt the smallest inkling of satisfaction upon hearing that she didn't belong to Inuyasha. Even if he wouldn't admit it to himself, Sesshoumaru had grown somewhat... fond... of the human in the last little while.
It seemed everywhere he turned, there was the miko, or some form of the miko that, ultimately, reminded him of her.
"Oy!" His brother shouted, and Sesshoumaru snapped out of his miko–induced reverie. "Do something useful for once, will yah, and go look for some place we can stop!"
Sesshoumaru sneered silently. Being ordered around by a mere slip of a boy. How disgraceful.
At the very least, he thought, dejectedly as he took to the sky, it might get my mind away from the miko.
As he was passing, he just happened to glance down, and from his vantage point, he could see down the front of Kagome's shirt – the pale white skin of her breasts flashing, up down, up down as she walked. From where he was, he could just barely make out the gold fabric that held them together.
Sesshoumaru shook his head. He knew he was going to be flying a lot more often from now on.
Unlikely.
(I went down to Spokane over the weekend to see the Nutcracker. The ballet was amazing, the Nutcracker sucked. The US has some bloody tall people, yeah? – Incomprehensible)