An hour ago the sunset had radiated across the cloud, turning it molten orange with bands of pink. Now its gone and she sat under the starless, moonless sky. There was no twilight, only blackness. Another cloudy night rolled in covering the last of the night sky, as if the blackness failed to come by fast enough. The rolling gray rapidly became as invisible as the stars it concealed, but the air still felt humid. The darkness was thick and the fire that burned the neat pile of wood she had gathered hardly lit their camp, allowing her to see at most a few feet around the barren part woods they had chosen to stay the night.
They had just come from the human village to visit his human ward earlier; their interaction, in her opinion, just as awkward as it's always been, if not worse. He was always prissy, but around the human girl, he was uncharacteristically puritanical. They had an air of comfort between them, true, but there was also an invisible wall, a barrier, that neither of them seem able nor even particularly interested to breach. Their meetings were far too formal, too uptight, like both of them were trying to hold too much of themselves back in fear of judgement from the other.
How strange.
And to think they both thought it would be a good idea to travel again together. Ha. She could already picture one of the demon lord's bouts of murder scaring little Rin, followed by some moralistic speech of why killing is bad and that there would have been better ways to deal with conflict than carnage. Humans are so easily predictable, after all. Especially one as sheltered as his human ward. She didn't understand the world of demon politics; it's as complicated as it was brutal and someone raised in the comforts of a peaceful town will never understand the fragile balance of how their hierarchy is maintained.
Of course, she had nothing personal against the human child; in fact, they were friends, albeit not close ones. She had a reclusive behavior back during the time she lived in the village to recuperate after regaining back her heart and she never quite bonded close to anyone, though Rin was a great help in getting her back on her feet. Occasionally, they would talk, but there wasn't much they had in common to hold conversations for very long. She did, however, loved listening to her stories about her Lord Sesshomaru. It was amusing, hearing the great demon lord in a painted perspective of an innocent child as she saw him so much different from the way the rest of the world did, her rose-colored glasses seeing him in a light where he was some sort of silent hero and savior of the weak. In a sense, she supposed, she wasn't entirely wrong, which only made it all the more interesting. It seemed though, that despite the unrequited attachment, the little girl latched onto her in the little time she spent in their village, and in later days, she found out it was because the child had a hard preference in being with demons, given her tragic history with humanity.
All things considered, she liked Rin. And while her company would provide some level of enjoyment given her happy-go-lucky personality so contrast to that of her practically-mute lord (some travel conversations would be nice, she gathered), she wasn't particularly excited on what it entails regarding the little game she and the silver-haired demon had started not too long ago. With the way he acts around his human ward, it was realistic to assume their private pastime would come to permanent stop - and of course, she didn't want that. It was a side of him she doubt many had every seen - and will ever see - and in a selfish, demanding note, she wanted to keep it all to herself. He was like a drug, a growing addiction - and while she liked to deny anything emotional about it, deep inside, she knew something was brewing deep within. In very few times they've engaged in this... exchange, they've never gone further than silent, sensual touches, gingerly exploring each other's upper bodies with half-naked torsos. They went on painfully slow, so much that they never even kissed. Kissing was far too personal, too passionate for an act that was only meant to toy cruelly with the other, waiting to see who breaks first, and kissing would mean defeat, in more ways than one. They simply raised the bar, one notch at a time, adding little by little to each stage they stepped on to, but with the rarity of these rounds, it felt to her that they were on that fondling stage for far too long. But perhaps, that was exactly what he wanted her to feel, and she just couldn't afford to lose: not to that smug look on his face and that small smirk on the corner of his lips as he pulled back each and every single time, leaving her with a sense of growing frustration.
Her companion sat across from her, leaning up against a cold, stone boulder that protruded idly from the dry earth. He didn't seem tired nor in need of rest, but he called for one anyway; and whether it was out of habit still or concern for her well-being, she doubt she'd ever know. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't asleep - the pace of his breathing was too brisk and she could sense the tension from his body as he listened into the deathly silence disturbed only by the crackling fire and the blowing breeze, scanning for potential signs of danger.
Was he the same way when traveled with the child and imp?, she wondered.
Other than the darkness and her gold-eyed company, all that seemed to exist was the chilly wind with its harsh bite could be felt through her thick layer of clothes. It was unnaturally cold for a summer night, she could feel the hairs on her arm raised and the bite of the wind had left its mark in the form of small bumps that were tingling on her skin, but its bite was more than flesh deep. Her blood ran cold through her veins and her bones were left chilled. The flames of from their campfire may have looked as though they burned warm, but their heat didn't seem to reach her body, no matter how closely she she sat by it.
How ironic, she thought, being made this uncomfortable by the very element of my existence.
An unconscious sigh escaped her dark painted lips; the puff of her warm breath visibly contrast against the bleak temperatures. He seemed to have noticed.
"Kagura."
She looked up from what she decided was a pathetic excuse of a fire, turning to see his deadpan expression, his eyes still closed. He was beautiful, and even more so in the dark night as his silver hair seemed to reflect what little light there was and his primarily white clothing seemed bright in contrast to the dark background.
"What?"
His shoulders stiffened lightly, but not enough for her to notice.
Not the response he was expecting.
She was cold, and calling her name was meant to be a gentle hint to tell her to sit next to him as his moko-moko would have given her the warmth her body seem to desperately crave. But alas, she wasn't like Rin (both fortunately and unfortunately), he realized, and his subtlety was lost on her. She just stared at him with a confused expression, waiting for him to say something as the seconds passed with only deafening silence between them.
"You may sit next to me, if you're cold."
'May'? You pompous little...
She scoffed, dragging her knees to her chest as she balled herself up closer to the fire, wrapping her arms around her knees. She hated his high and mighty way of talking. She hated the way he 'gave permission' for people to come close to him, like the whole world was beneath him. Even when he was the one asking a favor, he always spoke like he was just granting someone else permission to serve him. It annoyed her to no end, and this time was no different. Not that it was meant to be a command particularly, she was cold after all, but the wind sorceress freezing in the cold gust of air that blew through the frosty night was an irony that her pride just couldn't take. She gritted her teeth in mild annoyance, bringing her gaze back to the burning flames that mocked her chilling bones.
"I'm doing just fine by myself, thanks. Unless of course, you're just really indirectly begging for my close company."
His eyes opened, staring straight at her very own. Even from afar, she could see the flicker of exasperation in his frigid glare. Her comment seemingly struck something deep and the fact that it showed even slightly in his impassive demeanor meant she really struck a nerve. And far from how other demons would have reacted in that realization, she smiled - that devious grin on her face riling him up even worse.
He's always had torn feelings towards her casual impudence: between hating her rude audacity to question his leadership and purposely attempting to mock and challenge him every chance she gets, and being drawn to the way she treated him like a normal being - without reverence to his rank as a lord or fear of his power in wrath and anger - he wasn't sure which side to favor more. He hated the way she tried to rile him up on purpose; saying things for the intention of finding out exactly what ticked him, as if experimenting on the subject of his emotions was a job she was hired to do, but he liked the way she didn't seem to fear the repercussions. He could have snapped and just killed her like he did everyone else who so much as stood in his way, but for some reason, she seemed at ease despite the brutality of what he could do, as if she knew for fact he wouldn't do anything. She trusted him, albeit differently from the way Rin did but still in a similar sense. Rin had viewed him to be some sort of rightful protector - and that all his past ruthless sadism was all called for even when it wasn't, and therefore she saw him in some sickly pure light that had somehow made him want to be the man she thought he was. He cared for her so much that he was willing to change without even realizing it, so she would never have to see the stains of blood on his sleeves and smell the scent of death on his sword. But Kagura? She stuck with him despite the massacres, even after seeing the havoc in his wake as he painted the scenery red in the blood of those who opposed him. The bloodlust in his eyes never phased her and she understood the darkness that was the venom on his lips that he kept trying to wipe away.
Another gust of cold wind blew and the shiver of her spine was too painfully obvious for the demon lord to ignore. The last spurt caught a feather on her hair, pulling it off her black locks, blown harshly to his direction. In one swift motion, he caught it gently in hand, raising his open palm as a wordless invitation for her stand up and take it back.
"Tsk."
Pushing herself off the ground with the back of her palms firmly pressed against the soil, she stood up, walking briskly to his direction to retrieve her feathered pin. But as soon as her fingers grazed his raised hand, his other one grabbed her wrist, pulling her down on the ground in front of him, his signature calm expression unbreaking.
"What the-"
She didn't get to finish her train of thought as she swallowed the rest of the sentence that was stuck on her throat, condemning her to a momentary silence. How could she not? In a flash, his lips were pressed hard against her own, the pressure of his jaw pushing her head backwards, held only by his hand that had somehow snaked behind her head without her noticing. Without even so much as a pause, he pulled back just enough to bite her lower lip, sending her to a sensual taste of intoxication she had never reached before. Inattentively, her hand ran across his back, fingers gripping at a mass of smooth silver hair that ran through the spaces between her fingers like a heavy cascade of the finest silk threads.
The feeling of her fingers pulling on his hair only added to the passion of his forceful first kiss. It wasn't originally his intention to cave in first, but he couldn't resist that arrogant look on her face much longer; he, too, thought the sly games had gone on long enough. She needed to learn her place and he wanted to teach her. He wanted to show her his power, he wanted to control her - to punish her for the starting a fire in his heart that wasn't there before. A fire he couldn't control - and he was always in control. It burned deep within, driving him to a thirst only few could quench. In a short time, she got him tied up around her fingers, eliciting a feeling of powerlessness from him. And he hated it. He hated that he couldn't calm his pounding heart when she purposely stood too close when she talked, he hated the way his knuckles turned ash white from his tightly clenched fists as she bathed in his audience, he hated the way she touched him so casually when no one else every did - her light tapping on his back when she felt his mild traces of stress, the way she poked his arm for attention if she needed to show him something, the way walked just a little too close some days, her hips brushing up against his thighs, bringing about some primal desire that made him wonder what about her drove him to such insanity that other, more beautiful demons that he had been with before didn't have. Slowly, he dragged his lips down from her bottom lip to the base of her neck, his raspy breathing against her skin turning her body hot.
Her resistance crumbled - not that she had much of any, to begin with. She had always welcomed, even instigated, his rough ministrations but this time is different. She hadn't done anything to warrant this reaction. It was all him; whatever was built in from the previous, unfufilling times before had snapped something, letting out a ravaging beast thirsty for flesh. A hand runs through his hair, as the kisses become harder, urgent. Another hand slides around her waist, and pulling her close to his pine scented body. His kisses moved down to her shoulders, parting the layers of her kimono aside leaving her bare skin out in the open. With all her willpower, Kagura tried to remain indifferent.
It doesn't do to let someone with an ego like his know how much power he has.
She didn't lean in, didn't make it easy or seem too keen, but as he dragged his hand from her waist to her thigh, slipping his warm hands up inside her skirt - her skin burning at his touch - she caved.
Another, stronger gust of wind blew, killing the bonfire by their side, submerging them into complete darkness. As it turns out, that was exactly just was he was waiting for.
As the cover of the cloudy evening masked the expression on his face, all pretenses fell. His calm and stoic facade faded into lust and desperation, but it didn't matter. In the cover of darkness no one can see his raging look in his eyes, the lost of control on his face. His fingers worked fast and quick. His motions felt fluid as he skillfully undid her obi, bringing his lips back to hers as he did so. the top layer of her kimono fell off her shoulders, leaving behind nothing but a loose kosode. His moko-moko dropped to the ground as her fingers meddled with the locks on his armor, trying to match his pace, but alas, his years of first-hand experience had given him quite the leverage. Her breathing hastens, the intense rhythm of her heartbeat undergoes an irregular count, hammering quicker than a lightning bolt as his hand slithered around her body, searching smoothly for the seam of her dress. He found it with ease.
As the night went on, their soon-naked bodies merged together in synchrony, her loud moans and gasps that was tied to his every thrust filled the silence for what seemed like hours. His occasional groan echoed with the sound of her wordless yelps in torturous stalling for her release.
And almost as unexpectedly as it started, it was over.
She woke up to sound of birds loudly singing over her head. Sunlight filled the sky, pure scattered light; its hue ambitiously illuminating each crevice of the land. Sparrows chirped an explicit background melody. Her kimono was draped over her shoulders like a make-shift blanket, tucked neatly under her skin. It's hard to imagine the silver-haired demon lord to be so courteous, but seeing as the previous night was far beyond the scopes of his usual, she simply accepted it with small smile drawn on her small lips. He did keep his original intentions though. She was more than warm for the rest of the evening.
She sat up, looking around for any signs of the daiyoukai but she couldn't sense him nearby.
Strange, she thought.
Did he suddenly have bouts of regret and ran off?
Then it hit her.
Rin.
They were supposed to pick her up from the human village later that day, but he had went on without her, letting her sleep in.
Slowly, she had began putting her clothes back on and fixing her tangled mess of a hair. She could still smell his lingering scent on her clothes and her skin bore red bite marks and purple hickeys evident of their steamy night. The memory of his bare chest was fresh on her mind, his silver hair illuminating the scarce moonlight as it appeared in seconds at a time when the heavy cloud cover decided to part just slightly to shine little light over the pitch black world beneath it. The scent of his minty breath still stuck to her skin and the salty taste of his sweat loitered on her lips. It was an addicting experience, and she wondered if anyone else had experienced this same bliss under his passionate embrace. Who even thought he knew what lust was? Sesshomaru and libido didn't look like they belonged in the same page, let alone the same sentence.
The sound of a human carriage rolling over a paved path close by brought her thoughts back to reminder of the real possibility that she could lose it all over the appearance of another girl in their little duo, and the thought irked her.
There was no way she's letting a little human girl take it all away from her. Not in a million lifetimes.
