Chapter two, hurray! Half way done after this. Isn't that smashing?

I would like to say thank you to my reviewers, because I really appreciate it. Also, I would like to add to that – Pleeeease review? I know, I know, it's probably annoying to hear that, but perhaps some or you don't know how nice it is to get those. … And how sad it is to see 103 hits and only get three reviews. I want to know reactions – what was liked, what could be improved, etc. Anything is better than nothing!

Anywho, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

She would return soon, he reminded himself. She had only wanted to purchase some food for that afternoon, but it was likely that with her friendly disposition she was conversing with some of the villagers. When she had said that she would be back in an hour, he had to assume that she meant two.

The problem was that it had been three.

The sun had pushed the tree's shade up his legs during the time she had been gone, one of the many pointless observations he had made to himself. As this was meant to be a brief halt before the last stint of the journey back to his home, Sesshoumaru had sent Jaken and Ah-Un ahead. He had desired some measure of peace before he was once again ensnared in the tangle of politics he was sure were wrapped around his domain.

It had been pleasant to have that time to himself, to let his thoughts spread across his consciousness for consideration. The calm had been disturbed, however, as he thought about how it was probably time that Rin stayed exclusively at the palace. There were too many dangers for her in the wilds, regardless of how he had believed he could keep her safe.

Perhaps more pressing, however, was the fact that he found himself becoming progressively angrier on every occasion the demons they crossed assumed what Rin's status was. He had found it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure at the things that were being said in front of her, and this reaction bothered him.

That thought had been chased away though, both because it was uncomfortable and because he had realized how long Rin had been gone. She was late, later than even she was wont to be. And he was worried.

Finally rising after a minute, his impatience to find her overpowering his pride, Sesshoumaru walked toward the village. One thing placated his unease somewhat – he could still catch her distinctive scent on the still air.

There was a commotion in the field outside the village, but it was not the sounds of fear, but the happy screeches and surprised shouts of children playing.

And her laughter.

A twinge of irritation invaded his thoughts at this, although he tried to shake the feeling. It always baffled him when he felt that way. He had come to see that she was all right and she was, so what did he have to be annoyed about?

Standing at the brink of the forest so that he could observe, he hesitantly acknowledged that his irritation was from the fact that she had made him worry. Made him once again slip into feeling some pathetic emotion. He had grudgingly accepted that he cared for her. But just because the feeling existed did not mean that he wanted it to express itself through all of its various manifestations.

Yet it was, and it was her fault that it happened.

Sesshoumaru watched her from the shade as he considered his options to either wait for her to leave on her own or to betray his presence. As he watched, however, he felt his thought wander.

The children were playing some sort of game, chasing each other around the space in some pattern he could not decipher. Rin seemed to be directing the activities, reminding them of what to do or gently steering them. She was laughing as hard as the rest, the ever-present shine in her eyes snapping with her merriment.

The game seemed to suddenly come to a close, momentary celebrations abandoned when Rin announced that she would be leaving. Still smiling, Rin gently denied their requests to play again. "I've already stayed much longer than I should have," she said, looking at the sky anxiously.

Sesshoumaru's attention was caught again when one of the smallest of the children, so young that he looked as though walking was a newly acquired skill, began to cry.

Rin turned to the boy, smile tinted with sadness, and lifted him onto a hip. With a free hand, she wiped away his tears on the sleeve of her kimono, cooing gently to him until he calmed. Ruffling his hair, she set him back down, and with a wave left the children, promising that she would try to return someday.

Sesshoumaru frowned slightly before righting his expression, confused by the odd clenching this scene had caused in his chest. As with the majority of his feelings, he decided to ignore it at present, instead focusing on retrieving Rin.

Their paths met just inside the forest. She started when he said her name, spinning to face him with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry that I'm so late," she said immediately. "I had not realized how much time had passed."

"We will have to stop again for the night."

Without turning toward her, he could see her head drop and noticed that her pace slowed slightly, just enough that she now followed behind him. He wondered if she thought he was angry with her and consequently wondered why he was not.

All the same, perhaps it was best that she did not stand so close until he straightened the slight tangle in his thoughts, calmed the ripples that had spread through his mind at her earlier actions.

It was the first time he could remember really thinking about children since Inuyasha had been born. At that time, the thought had only been regarded in respect to his outrage that his father had allowed their blood to be mingled with an inferior creature. He had been too preoccupied with the realization that he would now have a sibling who was tainted with weak human blood to think of anything else.

Now he thought about it differently, trying to keep whatever feelings he had about the matter from skewing his considerations. By all rights, Rin should be married. He had known this for a year or two now but had always ignored the realization as it had strangely discomforted him.

And this was because if she married, she would leave. She had been the only person whose company he could ever remember enjoying and whose indiscretions he could overlook. Simply having her with him had become familiar, something that had sunk into his life so completely that the thought of removing her from it was almost painful.

Yet seeing her play with the children had made him realize that he could not keep her forever. Her life was short, so painfully brief, and there was so much she had yet to experience. In her gentle instructions, the easy lift of the child to her hip, he had seen a glimpse into what she should be allowed to have in the future. He had seen a home and a family, with children for her to love and care for.

He had seen things he could not provide.

The bright hues of the autumn leaves bled together as the sun continued to sink lower, turning everything to flame beneath the dark clouds. They had made the majority of the distance to the palace, but, as Sesshoumaru had expected, would not be able to reach it by nightfall. Casually, he thought of how inconvenient this was; for the last hour, he had been able to smell the approaching storm.

As they silently continued, he tried to think of a place where Rin could stay for the night. The cold and rain would not affect him, but he knew how fragile Rin's health could be after exposure to these conditions. He was sure that there was a human village nearby as he could pick up their scent. Perhaps she would be allowed to stay with a family there until morning.

Even as he finalized his decision, the first tentative drops of rain began to fall. He picked up his pace and heard Rin do the same, her bare feet padding on the grass after him. The rain caught the smell of wood fires, and he altered his course, cutting through a thicker portion of the forest in order to reach the village sooner.

This change, however, did not make sense to Rin. While she had been remarkably silent until now, she was no longer able to hold her tongue. "Where are we going, Lord Sesshoumaru?" she queried, her voice slightly breathless as she tried to keep up with him.

By now the tempo of the rain had increased, continuing to grow wilder as the wind pushed it. Without stopping, he replied. "Finding shelter."

She did not question this, instead concentrating on scrambling through the undergrowth.

As they continued, he found himself entertaining another thought, one that he found completely logical and yet entirely unwanted: he could leave Rin in the village. It was far away enough from the palace that she would not be able to follow him, yet close enough that he could return to check on her if he so desired. If they found a place for her to stay, he could leave that night. She would be able to live with the humans, have an existence that should have been hers to begin with. He would no longer have to tolerate the rumors concerning what she was to him and the consequent unease this caused within himself. The natural order of things, the separation between their worlds, could return.

Finally, the terrain became tamer, and within minutes a small group of rough huts appeared. There was a great deal of activity occurring as the villagers hurried to get inside. It would be easy for Rin to approach one of the people and ask for a place to stay for the night.

After assessing what he saw and approving of it, he turned to Rin. She stood with her arms crossed close to her body, lips in a tight line to suppress the shivers he could nonetheless see. With a quick motion, she brushed her long bangs from where they were plastered against her face and looked around him.

Seeing the village, she frowned slightly. "You do not mean to stay here, do you, my lord?" she asked, cocking her head habitually.

"No," he replied. "I mean for you to stay here. I will find another place."

The confused frown quickly turned to one of displeased surprise. "Why can I not stay with you?" she asked, the softness of her voice a clear attempt to dull the direct questioning.

"You will be more comfortable here."

"Physically, perhaps…" she murmured to herself, casting a leery glance at the village again.

By now the rain was falling violently, tearing the frail leaves from the trees and soaking them both. For a moment, he considered her words and tried to decipher their meaning, but could not. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"I would feel awkward around them," she said, looking at the ground. With an embarrassed smirk, she glanced at him. "I'm afraid I've lost whatever ease I used to have in human society, or at least with the adults."

"How could you feel awkward around humans?" he asked, nearly amused by the absurdity of the statement. "You are a human."

"I was not raised as one," she said simply.

It was the first time he had ever thought of this. Rin had always just been Rin; the fact that she was a human had become arbitrary and obscure as time passed. All the same, when forced to categorize her, it had always been an obvious decision.

Yet, observing her now, he realized that while she looked like one, she was not. The flame of her spirit had not been cooled by the fears common to the humans or dimmed by the tediousness of a peasant life. In her eyes, every day continued to be beautiful and new. Death had taught her that simply living was enough, that for her existence fortune or renown was not required.

It made sense, then, that she would feel awkward around other humans. She could not understand their apprehensions or empathize with their worries. There had been nobody to teach her such things.

He felt his plan deteriorate to nothing, scattered from his thoughts as though it had never existed. No, he could not leave her with the humans now. He had allowed her to stay with him for all those years and therefore had to take responsibility for having bound her to his world. She could not be punished for his mistakes.

"You are sure that you do not wish to stay here?" he asked again, looking at her closely.

Without a pause, she nodded, smiling. "I want to be with you."

As soon as the words left her mouth he turned, wishing that the impact they had would cease if he could not see the sincerity on her face. When it did not help, he focused on finding somewhere else for them to stay.

She must have sensed the sudden change in his mood because she returned to a silence that rang with embarrassment. While her unease put an uncomfortable edge to the air, making him wish to reassure her that she had done nothing wrong, he had a strange feeling that doing so would only exacerbate the problem.

There were craggy hills everywhere, and it did not take long for him to find a small cave where they could stay. By that time, the rain had soaked everything, eliminating the possibility of finding wood dry enough to start a fire. While he knew that the evening, now completely deprived of the sun, was quickly becoming cold, he could not assess how it felt to have this affect one's self.

He allowed Rin into the cave first, making her sit as far back as she could in hopes that some of the dim heat retained in the earth might be enough to prevent her from getting ill. While she did not complain, her rigid stance betrayed how the weather was affecting her.

For a moment he hesitated speaking his thoughts, caught between the precariousness of such a situation and the desire to make her comfortable. It only lasted for a moment, and then he spoke. "Rin," he said, catching her attention.

"Yes?"

He looked at her briefly before turning to the entrance of the cave. "If you remove the outer layers of your kimono," he began passively, "you will dry off faster and not be as cold."

There was a long pause, and then he heard her faint movements followed by the heavy sound of the soaked layers being dropped upon the stone floor. And then there was silence except for the rain and the wind.

He did not know why he felt so awkward about the situation. It was not as though she was completely without clothing; she still had her nagajuban, after all. Really, he reasoned as he turned around to sit by her, it was hardly any different than a yakata, and she wore those all the time in the summer.

When he turned completely, however, he found her standing behind him, casting him a glance from the corner of her eyes. "I need to wring out my hair," she said quietly, stepping past him when he wordlessly made room.

She stood at the entrance to the cave and pulled the dark locks over her shoulder. The breeze had managed to tear some of the clouds apart, allowing a few stars and the full moon to shine through. As she twisted the hair in her hands, the moonlight caught on the falling water and made it glow softly. It contrasted vividly with the darkness of her figure, every curve of her silhouette clear against the sky where the wet fabric clung to her body.

Sesshoumaru looked away, instantly uncomfortable with the momentary disruption her image had caused his thoughts. Distractedly, he shook his head to clear his wet bangs from his face, and was surprised when he heard a giggle.

Turning his head fractionally, he found Rin trying to hide a smile unsuccessfully behind her hand. Clearing her throat at his unamused expression, she shrugged. "I just forget about your nature sometimes, my lord," she offered in way of explanation, although he could not see how that clarified anything. She did not elaborate, instead approaching him. "Would you like me to wring out your hair as well?"

He thought of replying that the cold did not bother him, and that the water would dry, but somehow he could tell that having this interaction would help decrease a measure of the unease he sensed about her. Wordlessly, he stepped towards the mouth of the cave and tipped his head.

It always surprised him how tender her hands were on the rare occasions when he allowed her to touch him. They gently pulled the hair together and twisted it slowly, carefully working the water out of it. When she finished, she separated the strands the best she could between her fingers, and brushed his bangs back into place. She smirked a little as she did this before hurrying back to her seat in the cave.

Puzzled enough by her actions that the memory of his odd feelings were erased, Sesshoumaru sat on the floor next to her and frowned mildly. "I do not understand what you find so entertaining," he stated when she refused to look at him.

"It's nothing, really," she assured him, although to little success.

Apparently his expression relayed this, and she gave a small sigh. "Sometimes I forget about your true form," she finally explained. "When you shook your head like that, it made me remember."

He considered her for a long moment, one brow rising slightly. "And you find that amusing?"

"I guess I must."

Leaning his head back against the wall of the cave, he shut his eyes. "You are odd," he concluded.

She laughed at this, and a twitch of a smile fought to cross his lips. "Of course I am! If I were normal, you never would have let me follow you. You like me this way."

He gave a short nod. "Yes."

There was a pause, and even without her words, he knew that a turn was coming in the conversation. "You do like me, don't you, my lord?"

Cracking his eyes open slightly, he turned his head towards her, inviting her to elaborate on her thoughts.

"Humans and demons… we don't feel things the same way. You've told me this," she said quietly, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "So sometimes, when I wonder what you feel, I cannot help but think about what you feel for me."

The rain pattered gently outside as he looked straight again, staring at the dark gray ahead of him while considering her question. It was just the two of them, nobody to hear his response but the person the words concerned, and it made him more willing to answer. Slowly, he tried to piece together a way to express himself.

"You are… precious to me," he eventually tried, unable – or perhaps unwilling – to find a label for the emotion that accompanied this. He thought about the night under the stars, his confession of how highly he thought of her. Still, he found that he could not reveal anything further at present than he had that night. "When you are with me, I feel more than with anybody else."

Glancing at her, he found her head bowed slightly, still damp hair draped around her face. For a moment the light from outside gleamed on it, turning it as silver as his, and for the first time he wondered how things would be different if that one barrier, that difference between their races, did not exist.

Slowly, Rin raised her head, turning to him, and he again felt the odd clench in his chest when her dark eyes pinned his. Their proximity now seemed like a serious misjudgment that he nonetheless had no desire to amend.

Indeed, he found himself leaning closer when she tipped her head up towards his. He noticed distantly that her face, which had been so pale a moment ago, was flushed as his hand found its way around her waist.

Their breath mingled between them in the small space she would not close, lips so near that it would require only the slightest movement for them to meet. She remained still, the final distance left to him. His thoughts had become hazy, vague and indistinct under the cover of his feelings, ones he had only felt for her.

But they were there all the same, whispers of cold reason to cool the sudden fire of his heart. Icy reminders of who he was and what she was pushed through his feelings, stilling him from moving. That first doubt was all it took for the world to come back into focus, the moonlight to harden.

Rin must have known even before he straightened, her muscles slacking under the hand still pressed against her back as she looked away. A breath released in a mix of too many emotions to name passed her lips, and she shifted to move away from him without meeting his eyes.

For a moment he broke through the ice, enough that he held her still before drawing her cold form to his side. She stiffened, casting him a look that was full of both hurt and hope. "Sleep, Rin," he said softly as she searched his eyes.

Gradually, she relaxed against him, slipping to sleep some minutes later. Holding her while the wild and shapeless thoughts from the moments before took form, he accepted that the strange grip around his heart would likely never relent. For a second, a flicker of time, he had wondered why he couldn't be the one to provide her the things he had envisioned. This fanciful notion had dissipated in almost the same instant it had been thought; he knew that the rigidity of his beliefs and the power of his pride would prevent him from the hypocrisy of taking a human as his mate, regardless of what he might feel.

And he knew what he felt. Her eyes had been like a mirror, the emotions revealed in them a perfect reflection of what he felt within himself. For so long he had thought himself incapable of such feelings, but she was once again the exception, the thing that changed what he thought he knew about himself. It was impossible to tell when it had happened, the instant when the tenderness he felt towards her had grown into love, because he had fought against acknowledging it for so long.

But he accepted it now, ceased to fight against the feeling that had long ago won. He loved the girl. It now seemed so obvious why he had denied every proposal; she was the one he wanted by his side.

He closed his eyes as he realized all this and simultaneously acknowledged that it would all come to nothing. These feelings and thoughts could be no more than that.

So as her dark head lay against his chest, he indulged in something he had never allowed before. He pretended, just for that moment, that he could hold onto her past the morning, that he had more time than just this brief dream that would vanish with the dawn.