Disclaimer: All but the plot to this particular story rightfully belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Words: 267
Yukata
It was well into the morning now- the sleep schedules of a human were beyond his capacity for patience. Not only did he wait for the priestess the night before, but he was forced to do so again this morning.
Tracing a clawed finger around the teacup's rim, he felt his frustration breaching the cusp of composure. Fortunately, he could hear the girl at the end of the stairs.
An attendant appeared at his side, "Might I pour you another cup, milord?"
Nodding, Sesshoumaru lifted his gaze as Kagome clumsily shuffled into the room behind two very amused domestics. For a fraction of a second, surprise swept over his face.
As the two female youkai announced her presence with determined solemnity, Sesshoumaru took in the drab, olive yukata that swallowed her frame. With one hand, she held the bunched fabric close to her side (to aid in walking, he presumed) while the other was well tucked away in a mass of material. A black obi had been wrapped around her waist enough times to protrude at the sides and she kept a shoulder lifted to prevent the yukata from sliding down her arm.
"Oh," breathed the older youkai who had chosen the yellow yukata, looking quite floored, while Takuma bit the inside of the his cheeks.
Kagome flushed deeply. She summoned the courage to glance up at Sesshoumaru's aloof expression and found that, strangely enough, his lack of reaction encouraged her. Smiling timidly, she lifted the skirt further and took a step forward, only to stop abruptly as she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.