a/n: I have no words to offer to explain my absence. Only one long scream tinged with existential dread. anyways, enjoy the chapter!
SONG OF THE WEST
an Inuyasha fanfic
xxxiii.
As the red and orange autumn leaves withered and fell from their branches, and the animals became more scarce on Lord Sesshōmaru's hunts, Rin's day-to-day experiences in the camp became more and more odd.
First, things had been rather slow camp the past few weeks, owing both to the unhurried change of season and, oddly enough, Ungai's tenure as inspector. While Inspector Jaken had been irksome and pedantic, Ungai was many times worse. All forms of makeshift entertainment in the camp, such as tōko or kemari that had been ignored by Lord Sesshōmaru or just tolerated by Jaken, were outright banned by Ungai, who promoted constant inspection and maintenance of the camp.
Ungai was no one's favorite inspector; in fact, many of the soldiers, save those warrior monks who had come a few days after Ungai, missed Jaken's shrill, incessant voice. But Rin knew there was no one in the sonae who disliked Ungai more than Lord Sesshōmaru. They were not a good fit for each other. Ungai appreciated prevailing procedure to the point of being a dogmatist, and while Sesshōmaru was thorough in his duties, he did often flout the practices he deemed unnecessary and inefficient.
One such practice was that of writing morning and evening reports to honjin. Lord Sesshōmaru chose to only write evening reports because, in his words, "nothing changed much between the evening and the morning." Naturally, Ungai disagreed with this, and the two men got into a row that, thanks to Rin's mediating influence, ended in Sesshōmaru kicking Ungai out of the tent. Ungai then penned a brief letter to Lord Tōga, whereupon Tōga wrote to Sesshōmaru instructed his son to be less stubborn, annoying Sesshōmaru even more.
While Ungai was not on the best terms with most of the camp, Rin had supposed that she and the inspector were at least on neutral terms. But she was mistaken. Another one of Sesshōmaru's habits that Ungai abhorred was the young Lord's misanthropic tendencies, and Ungai especially took great umbrage with a courier like Rin acting as Sesshōmaru's unofficial intermediary, relaying his verbal commands to the soldiers, the other couriers, and Ungai himself. He stated as much to her as Rin was helping him pass out winter shawls, boots, and extra blankets to the troops—something that, technically, Sesshōmaru was supposed to present for.
"Why must you insist upon performing his duties for him?" Ungai had asked, marking soldiers' names from his list with a displeased expression on his face each time Rin handed them a pile of fabric.
Rin hesitated. Ungai was known for his moods; who knew what sort of sanctimonious rant he would deliver if she said the wrong thing?
"I'm not doing his duties," Rin explained. "I like to help everyone as much as I can. It feels nice to see everyone and ease their burdens."
The answer was short, sweet, and simple. However, Ungai huffed and said,
"It is no wonder you and the young Lord get along so well. That is a rather self-involved answer."
Rin almost let the next load of winter supplies fall from her hand. "Self-involved?!"
"You do more than is asked to prove that you can," Ungai asserted. "No one, including that young Lord, will ever bother to do more if you insist on 'easing their burdens.'"
Rin frowned. "Inspector—"
"Deliver this to the Crown Prince's camp," Ungai said. He passed Rin a folded piece of paper without even looking at her.
This was his way of ending the conversation. Rin sighed, took the paper, and went to retrieve Hikari.
She supposed she bore some blame for Lord Sesshōmaru and Inspector Ungai's ongoing feud. She still had not succeeded in helping Sesshōmaru interact with his men. Each time she tried to convince the other couriers to speak to Sesshōmaru instead of treating her as an intermediary, they would get nervous and refuse. Plus, if she had not vomited on herself at the sight of the severed heads and ruined her clothing the night prior to the inspector rotation, Sesshōmaru would not have been too preoccupied with her to greet Ungai properly.
Do not embarrass Lord Sesshōmaru… That was her daily imperative. She could not rely on Lord Sesshōmaru so much that he neglected his far more important duties.
Then there was Lord Sesshōmaru himself. He cared very little for Ungai's dogmatism. In fact, the more Ungai harangued him about his behavior, the more Sesshōmaru was determined to interact with the old man as little as possible. In terms of time spent off the battlefield, Sesshōmaru was more than content to be with Rin and Rin alone.
Unfortunately for the little courier, such proximity was taking its toll on her in a very strange way. Ever since she had stared at his arms that evening in the tent, her war-weary mind had started to play tricks on her. Sesshōmaru had always been handsome—it was a defining characteristic that people noticed as soon as they met him, right after his glacial expression and regal air. Rin perceived this steadfast quality much differently than she did before. She found herself more in tune with the way he breathed while sitting at his desk or hunting in the woods, and the way his brow furrowed whenever he was irritated. His hair started to shine even softer under the light; his lashes looked longer and thicker; his golden eyes seemed so brilliant that she could barely stand to look at him directly, something she was so skillful at in the past.
He had even popped up in her dreams! Thankfully, they all remained rather normal. She would picture them lounging and eating oysters in their spot in the woods, or she would comb and braid his hair in the tent's peacefulness. Sometimes, she even imagined that she would cook for him, a thought she found amusing, since she did not consider herself much of a cook, especially compared to him.
One morning, Rin awoke enshrouded in a comforting warmth, one she had not felt in a very long time.
The pinkish orange rays of sunlight informed her it was not quite morning yet. She was lying on her side, her preferred sleeping position, on her own futon. Her hair, as usual, was a mess on her pillow. Mixed among the curls and snarls were long, gossamer-like strands of white hair. Two powerful arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her closer to a source of warmth she could not see. The hands, well-groomed and slightly calloused from handling a sword, were recognizable. Rin could also hear the steady and gentle breaths that let her know her companion was still asleep.
Lord Sesshōmaru?
Rin did not bother to move or speak, lest she wake the young Lord. By right, she should have been mortified at the thought of being intimate with a man, especially Lord Sesshōmaru, whom she so admired. But something about the way he was holding her felt right. Safe, even; and natural. She belonged there, right in his arms.
Behind her, Sesshōmaru stirred.
"Rin," a deep voice breathed in her ear.
Rin shivered but closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She didn't want that pleasurable sensation to end so soon.
One of his hands moved from her waist to caress her cheek. Rin felt her face heat slightly against his touch.
"Rin," Sesshōmaru called again, this time a bit more urgent.
Slowly, Rin sighed and opened her eyes to reality. She was still warm, but instead of being held in Sesshōmaru's arms, she was wrapped in the prosaic inanimateness of her blankets.
"Lord Sesshōmaru?" Rin called out shyly.
The soft buzz of some insect called back to her. There was no human response.
Rin squeezed her eyes shut briefly before opening them again. She repeated this procedure a few more times, only ceasing upon realizing that Sesshōmaru most likely had never been holding her nor had slept closer than her than his own futon the entire night.
Rin sat up on her futon, lips pursed. Save for her and the furniture, the tent was vacant. Sesshōmaru was nowhere to be found.
A great sense of loss welled up in the pit of her stomach upon noticing his absence. She could've sworn he'd been there. His voice had been so close, and his touch…
The entrance to the tent rustled. Rin perked up.
"Lord Sesshō—"
She stopped. To her surprise, instead of her familiar tent mate, an older man strolled in. Rin wrapped her blanket around herself to conceal her night clothing.
"Inspector Ungai?" Rin stuttered.
Ungai was wearing his winter furs, despite the temperature not quite being cold enough for them yet. His austere black eyes glanced about the room with vague disapproval before alighting upon Rin's small form bundled in blankets.
He, of all people, was not supposed to be in Lord Sesshōmaru's tent. In fact, as a rule, no one was allowed in the general's tent without Sesshōmaru's express permission, except for Rin.
Not that Ungai cared anything about that. To him, Sesshōmaru was merely an overindulged young Lord who needed to be reined in.
"Where is the general?" Ungai asked roughly.
"I'm not sure," Rin said.
Ungai scoffed. "He left without informing you of her whereabouts?"
Rin stared. "…yes?"
The room went silent as the two continued to stare at each other. Ungai's mouth fixed into a deep frown.
"It is almost noon," Ungai announced, turning to exit. "Make yourself useful."
As the inspector glided out of the tent, Rin released a breath she had not realized she was holding. The warrior monk had an illiberal, slightly daunting aura about him—far less frightening than Sesshōmaru had seemed when she first met him, but intimidating nonetheless.
Noon! She had never slept in so late. Usually, Lord Sesshōmaru woke her if she did not awaken of her own volition.
Rin glanced back at Sesshōmaru's empty futon, and then at his empty writing desk. Wherever he had gone, it must have been an emergency. And her dream…
Rin groaned and shook her head again. In a way, she was happy she did not have to suffer the embarrassment of speaking to him after whatever that dream had been. And with a bit of work, she was sure she would soon forget about it altogether.
"Have you checked the bandages yet?"
"Yes!"
"How much is left?"
"About fifteen full rolls."
"And the medication?"
Rin stood on her tiptoes to count the wooden jars Nobuo kept on the topmost shelf.
"There's about four jars."
Nobuo sighed from his seat at his wooden writing desk. "I'll have someone retrieve more from another sonae later, then."
"I can do it!" Rin said eagerly.
Nobuo's brow rose. "Are you certain? You've been working all day."
"There isn't much else to do," Rin said with a shrug.
This was true. Thanks to the tyranny of Inspector Ungai, each soldier had been given specific tasks they completed almost as soon as they were assigned, ensuring that everything ran systemically. Thus, there was nowhere for her to squeeze in and assist with other tasks, as she might have prior to Ungai's arrival. Her newfound freedom was rather inconvenient, seeing as she was trying to forget about the odd dream she'd had about Sesshōmaru earlier. And Rin was not at all comforted by the idea that the camp would only continue to slow down with winter. Once the snow fell, it would be harder for the courier's horses to handle their routes. Only the most essential messages would go back and forth between the camp, which meant when winter set in, she would spend a lot more time in the general's tent with Lord Sesshōmaru.
Before, Rin would not have minded the idea much. She and Sesshōmaru were best friends, and it was not as if Sesshōmaru would bite her if she sat in the tent too long. However, as made clear by her strange dreams, being so close to him every day was driving her mad. Who knew what improper things her unoccupied mind would concoct when she could no longer distract herself with camp duties?
"Is the medication still fresh?" Nobuo asked, pulling Rin out of her own thoughts.
"How do I know if it's still fresh?" Rin asked.
Nobuo paused for a moment. "Try smelling it."
Rin grabbed a jar and unscrewed the lid. She nearly choked upon inhaling the acrid smell of the herbal mixture.
Nobuo laughed. "That means it's fresh."
"You could have warned me!" Rin said, pouting.
"I couldn't help it!" Nobuo said. "I used to have a friend who fell for that every time. Now that I think about it, you sort of remind me of him."
"Really?" Rin asked, genuinely interested. Rin knew nothing about Nobuo's personal life.
"He was my junior during medical training," Nobuo explained. "You both have similar mannerisms."
The entrance to the medical tent flapped open. Ise entered, sweaty despite the moderate temperature, dragging a large canvas bag behind him. Something hard and hollow rattled inside.
"This is from honjin," Ise panted. "Addressed from the Commander to General Tokudaiji."
"Why'd you bring it here, then?" Nobuo asked.
Ise scoffed. "You know Rin is the only person allowed near the general's tent."
Rin flushed at this.
"I'll take it there," she blurted.
She grabbed the bag and gasped. It was heavy. Rin found it hard to believe Ise delivered the bag on his horse.
"Good luck," Ise said. Then, turning to Nobuo: "Do you have anything for soreness?"
The tent was as empty when Rin arrived as it was when she departed hours earlier. With a sigh, she dropped the heavy bag. It fell with a loud thud to the ground.
She stared at it with some curiosity. She could not make out the inscription on the note attached to it; all she had known was that, according to Ise, the bag was to be delivered directly to Lord Sesshōmaru, as per Lord Tōga's orders.
Rin pulled at the rope that kept the bag closed. Sesshōmaru wouldn't mind if she opened it for him. After all, if it was any classified information, she wouldn't be able to—
Rin squealed. Sitting at the very top of the bag, staring directly at her, was the skull of some small animal.
"Rin," someone called out.
Rin squealed again and spun on her heel. She soon found herself facing the broad, slightly bare chest of a man.
She looked up. It was Sesshōmaru, of course. His long, white hair was slick from being submerged in water. The ends were still dripping. His robes were open, too, as if he had been in the middle of dressing, and she could see a few centimeters of the white sarashi wrapped about his midsection.
"Lord Sesshōmaru!" Rin exclaimed, her face flushing. Had he been changing behind the screen the entire time?"
Sesshōmaru's golden eyes gazed past Rin and towards the offensive canvas sack on the floor.
"It's from Lord Tōga," Rin explained. "A bag of bones!"
Sure enough, when Sesshōmaru knelt to inspect the bag, it was filled with an assortment of bones, no doubt amassed from his father's various kills over the past few weeks in preparation.
For your health, the note attached stated. Drink up.
Sesshōmaru scowled. His father often made bone broth for him when they would travel together, long ago when he was a child. He certainly did not need it anymore.
He could feel Rin hovering over his shoulder. While she looked far healthier than when they first met, she was still rather petite. If anyone needed a boost to get through the winter, it was her.
Swiftly, Sesshōmaru moved to the center of the tent and dumped some bones into the large pot that rested there.
"Tell someone to draw and boil this water," Sesshōmaru instructed.
Rin frowned. Something about Sesshōmaru felt… off, somehow. There was an inexplicable tension in his neck and shoulders that seemed foreign to his lean, muscular frame.
"Lord Sesshōmaru," Rin called out softly. "Where did you go this morning?"
"The lake," Sesshōmaru replied simply.
Silence.
"...you went without me?"
Sesshōmaru glanced at her. There was a slight frown on her pretty face now, as if she were truly upset she had not accompanied him.
"You were asleep."
"I would've woken up."
"It was cold."
"But you still went," Rin pouted. "You even took a bath."
Sesshōmaru said nothing. He had had the pleasure of waking to the gentle sound of Rin's voice calling out his name in the darkness. He might have roused her from her mysterious dream had it not been for the unexpected physical reaction to her gentle sighs and the sight her of her slightly flushed face and parted mouth, which had led him to take an impromptu trip to the lake to contemplate and take a cold bath.
Of course, that was better left unuttered. Rin did not seem affected by the dream, and he would not mention it.
However, the incident had made him curious. Until this morning, he had assumed she regarded him in a platonic manner. Yes, she had embraced him publicly in the past, but he had supposed that those instances were because of her outwardly affectionate, open nature rather than any special regard on her part. Her comfort around him compared to other men was likely due to him saving her life on several occasions.
It had brought Sesshōmaru great pleasure to find he occupied her unconscious thoughts as she did his. But now he did not know where he stood in her heart in mind, which felt odd, since he had never been uncertain about anything in his life. If she already loved him as much as he loved her, there would be no need to warm her up to the idea of living together. If she only thought of him as a friend, he did not wish to risk frightening her so soon.
Rin was still pouting in front of him. Sesshōmaru raised his hand to caress her cheek. Her expression eased, and she leaned into his touch. Then, remembering herself, she blinked and wrapped her lithe fingers about his wrist.
"I need to get medicine for Nobuo," she said.
Sesshōmaru absentmindedly stroked her check with his thumb. "Where?"
"The Takeda camp, I think." Rin's grip tightened.
Sesshōmaru removed his hand. Flushed for what seemed to her to be the one-hundredth time that day, Rin watched and Sesshōmaru crossed the floor of the tent to reach his storage chest.
From the chest he pulled a folded thing of fabric, white silk that glimmered in the sunlight.
"Wear this," Sesshōmaru said.
Rin accepted it, handling it gently as if it were an ancient treasure. It smelled of aloeswood, just like him. She then realized how odd it was that she was smelling his clothing and distanced it from her face. Upon unfolding it, she found that the chest of the garment bore the fangs of the Tokudaiji crest. It was long and fell just under her knee.
"This is yours," Rin said, stating the obvious.
"Yes," Sesshōmaru said. "It's warm."
"But what if it gets dirty?"
"I'll clean it."
Rin hesitated and stared down at it. "It's really big."
"You don't want it," Sesshōmaru deduced, brows furrowed.
To Sesshōmaru's utter surprise, Rin clutched the haori closer to her chest.
"I do!" Rin insisted. "Thank you, Lord Sesshōmaru!"
More silence. Sesshōmaru was still gazing down at her with his bright, beautiful, gold eyes. It was unbearable; just for a moment, she wished he would relent.
To make things less awkward, Rin put on the haori. It was as large as it looked, draping her petite frame in endless fabric. But it was comfortable, at least.
Sesshōmaru's eyes glimmered with warm approval. Rin pulled her eyes away from his handsome face and turned her gaze to the ground.
"I'll be off now," Rin said shyly.
Sesshōmaru said nothing, and without another word, Rin darted from the tent, the extra fabric of the haori billowing behind her.
Despite how complicated things at the camp had become, other things became simple.
Over the past few weeks, Rin had fallen into the habit of taking water and leftover food from her and Sesshōmaru's meals to the woman in the woods. During each furtive visit, the woman would gaze at Rin with those mysterious, crimson eyes—sometimes filled with boredom, and other times a roguish inquisitiveness—and accept Rin's offer with very few words to spare. The woman would wait at the tree where they had first met on Rin's path to and from the Takeda camp, with her long, ornate kiseru lit or unlit. Rin was curious as to what the woman did all day but never asked out of fear that she already knew. If the woman had any friends that needed food as well, she never brought them.
The woman was smoking from her kiseru again when Rin arrived that day, the vapor writhing and dancing in the crisp late fall air. For the first time since Rin had run into her in the woods, her lips were as red as they were the day of the festival.
"Good afternoon!" Rin spoke to the woman as she dismounted her horse. "I brought rice and beef stew again."
The woman sauntered over from the tree, smoke trailing behind her, to accept the meal.
"Thanks," she said with her low voice.
And that was that. Upon delivering the food, Rin would mount her horse again and return to the camp so as not to worry anyone by being absent too long. This time, however, the woman had other plans.
"You have new clothes," the woman said.
The haori Sesshōmaru had bequeathed to Rin had kept her plenty warm, just as he said it would. Rin flushed at the memory of how odd she had acted when he gave it to her.
"Winter is coming," Rin responded simply. "A friend let me borrow it."
The woman's brow rose at that statement. Instead of responding, she took another drag of her cigarette.
It would be the first winter in a long time that Rin would not have to worry about where she would get necessities like food, fabric, and firewood. Still, she could not help but frown. She knew how long the winter could be for a single woman with no family.
"Where will you go when it gets colder?" Rin asked.
"The city," the woman responded coolly, nowhere near as concerned as Rin was.
The two fell silent again. The wind blew, stirring up the fallen leaves.
"What will you do in the city?" Rin asked softly.
The woman rolled her eyes. "Dance, I suppose."
Oh, right. The woman was a dancer. Suddenly, Rin wondered why the woman spent her time traipsing about the war camps instead of dancing for aristocrats and merchants in the capital.
"Why did you join the army?" The woman asked.
Rin blinked, confused. "There was a draft."
"I know that," the woman said, tapping a bit of the ash out of the pipe. "And I know for a fact the drafts do not include women."
Rin froze and moved closer to her horse. If the woman suddenly remembered her from Hyōkusui's festival, she would be in some trouble. "I don't know what—"
The woman huffed. "Oh, spare me the excuses. It's not as if I have anyone to tell." She took another drag of her pipe.
"How did you know?"
"Because I'm not some stupid man." The woman scoffed. "So, why did you join?"
Rin frowned. The woman's sultry answer revealed very little. But perhaps she did simply sense it, rather than recalling Rin's presence at that ill-fated celebration so long ago.
"I needed the money," Rin replied after some thought. It sounded convincing enough.
The woman smirked. "There are many other things a woman could do for money, you know."
Rin shivered despite the warmth of Sesshōmaru's haori. "I should leave."
"You seem like you don't trust me," the woman deduced.
"You don't trust me, either," Rin pointed out as she mounted Hikari again.
The woman blew smoke in Rin's direction. This time, the smoke had masterfully formed the shape of a ring. Hikari whinnied when it hit her nose.
"You're smarter than you look," the woman said.
"Hey!"
"I'll extend a peace offering," the woman continued. "My name is Kagura. Like the dance."
Kagura. Rin had been giving the woman food for weeks, but she had never asked for her name. To hear it without asking felt like an accomplishment.
Should she tell the woman hers? It was a common name; it wasn't as if anything could happen if she told the woman.
"I'm Rin," Rin said, smiling. "I hope you enjoy the meal!"
Kagura nodded in response. Still smiling, Rin spurred her horse to move, and soon she was riding back in the camp's direction.
Sesshōmaru was sitting at his writing desk when Rin returned, his clothes properly adjusted. He glanced up at her when she entered.
"You took a long time," Sesshōmaru stated simply.
Rin paused. Had she? She didn't feel she had been gone any longer than usual.
"Oh! I delivered some messages to other camps," Rin fibbed.
Sesshōmaru's gaze remained steady on her, as if he knew she was lying. He most likely did. Rin shuffled uncomfortably where she stood.
The young Lord inhaled slowly. Rin was slightly redolent of tobacco, a scent he had not detected when she had left.
"You smell like an entertainment parlor."
Rin's stomach dropped. "A what?"
"Where were you, truly?" Sesshōmaru asked.
He knew, then. Of coursehe knew. It wasn't as if she was the best liar, and now she felt terrible for attempting.
To make things worse, he was looking at her with those eyes of his. He wasn't angry or annoyed—Rin knew perfectly well from past experiences what those emotions looked like on his face—but she still felt as if his warm eyes were boring holes into her soul.
"I met a woman in the woods," Rin muttered.
"A woman?" Sesshōmaru repeated.
"From one of the villages," Rin added. Again, the lie fell clumsily from her lips.
Sesshōmaru stood and moved closer to her. One strong, warm hand positioned itself beneath her chin as he tilted her head upwards so that Rin could look him directly in the eye.
"She isn't a villager," Rin admitted sheepishly. "She's a dancer."
Sesshōmaru's eyes hardened slightly. "A 'dancer.'"
Images of the camp followers' disembodied heads flashed in Rin's mind. She flinched away from Sesshōmaru's grasp.
"You won't bother her, will you?" Rin asked. "I only gave her food and spoke to her a little."
Sesshōmaru huffed. He doubted Rin was the only one this mysterious woman was interacting with.
"Don't visit her anymore," he said.
"Will you leave her alone if I do?" Rin asked.
Sesshōmaru said nothing. Many a military campaign or political scheme in history had failed because of the manipulations of a spy disguised as a dancer, songstress, or even a common camp follower. While he would not resort to the extremes of placing her head on a spike as the crown prince had done, the woman would certainly need to be apprehended and interrogated.
Rin bit her lip. "I know you have your duties as a general. But she really did nothing wrong—"
"How do you know this?" Sesshōmaru asked.
Rin fell silent. Truthfully, she did not know for sure. But she could feel it. After all, if Kagura had any ill-intent towards the army, she would have acted long before winter, right?
Sesshōmaru turned to his desk again. War was war, and Rin was far too generous. She would not understand.
"Eat," Sesshōmaru said. "We can discuss this later."
There were two bowls of beef stew on the table which Rin had not noticed prior.
"So she'll be safe?" Rin asked again, her tone hopeful.
"For tonight," Sesshōmaru replied.
Rin frowned again. "Lord Sesshō—"
"General!" a voice called from outside. "Inspector Ungai requests entry!"
Sesshōmaru's mouth set into a deep frown.
"You should let the inspector in," Rin suggested.
Sesshōmaru's brow rose. "Why?"
"It could be important!"
"It usually isn't."
"But what if it is?" Rin chirped.
Sesshōmaru made no reply to this. With a relieved sigh, Rin turned towards the tent's entrance.
"Come in!" she called.
Ungai stepped in and bowed slightly to show obeisance. To Rin's surprise, instead of immediately addressing Lord Sesshōmaru, the old man turned to her.
"Deliver this to honjin," Ungai ordered. "Be quick; it's urgent."
Honjin again, Rin thought to herself, quietly accepting the paper. Great.
Sesshōmaru scowled. "Ask another courier."
"Your Grace, the other couriers are out delivering messages, unlike Rin," Ungai stated simply.
Rin saw a look of annoyance flash within Sesshōmaru's golden eyes. Nowadays, it took little for the two to fall into an argument.
"I'll deliver it," Rin said quickly.
Sesshōmaru glanced at her. In return, Rin flashed him a small smile. After all, this wasn't her first time going to honjin. It was late, but there should be at least one or two soldiers traipsing around the camp that could place it in Lord Tōga's hands for her.
When Rin turned to face Ungai again, the old man was gazing at her with a suspicious glint in his eye. Rin blinked.
"You may leave, Ungai," Sesshōmaru said pointedly.
It was clear Ungai had something to discuss with Sesshōmaru. If not, he would have simply waited until Rin exited the tent to present her with the message. Despite this, Ungai merely bowed and exited the tent without another word.
Even in Ungai's absence, the room remained tense. Sesshōmaru was staring at her, too, in a way that let her know he would most likely come after her if she took too long to return.
"I'll be back soon, my Lord," Rin said.
Sesshōmaru nodded, and without another word, Rin exited the tent and entered the crisp air of her last normal night in the camp.