It was well after sunset by the time she'd finished her evening bath. She stepped out onto the engawa intent on stargazing and came upon him in the garden. He sat there with his arm resting casually across one knee, utterly lost in thought. She approached quietly and waited for him to notice her.

A scuff of her sock covered foot caught his attention, and he glanced her way. Their eyes locked, and she held her breath. He'd avoided her all afternoon. Would he continue to keep his distance even now?

He gestured with a nod of his head to the open space next to him, inviting her to sit. Then he reached back to add another log to the hibachi glowing brightly behind him. She knelt at his side, relieved to know he was no longer intent on avoiding her.

Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she waited for him to speak. Growing up, she'd always hated silence. Back then, she'd felt compelled to fill quiet, tense moments like this one with endless words. The same had been true when she'd first met Sesshomaru. But it wasn't long before she realized he said more with a glance than he ever did with words. His body had a language all its own.

With a subtle glance, she noted the tense set of his shoulders and how his hand gripped the edge of the engawa tight. He was upset, possibly even angry, though whether it was at her, himself, or something else entirely remained to be seen.

"I put your life at risk today," Sesshomaru said at last, his tone solemn. His eyes were on her now, the expression in them troubled. "I swear it will not happen again."

She released a weighted sigh and followed the graceful, sweeping movements of the koi in the pond beneath their feet.

"You didn't know a meido would form, right?"

Sesshomaru kept his eyes averted, fixed on a moss-covered stone lantern deep in the garden. "I suspected, but I did not know for certain."

She processed this information with a subtle nod of her head as her eyes followed the colourful, arcing bodies of the koi in the pond. Noticing her interest, Sesshomaru discretely set a pouch of seeds next to her. She took a handful and sprinkled it across the pond's surface, then watched as the fish eagerly gobbled the seeds up.

"Then it's okay," she said once the last bit of fish food had disappeared from the pond's surface. "I trust you to keep me safe. And besides, we discovered your sword has a new power."

His eyes snapped to hers, and she offered him a faint smile. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

He responded with a noncommittal grunt, and she scattered another handful of seeds for the fish. They watched in silence as the koi made quick work of their second helping of food.

"Do you miss being home?" he asked once the pond's surface had returned to being glassy and still.

"Sometimes," she admitted with an indifferent shrug. "But I don't regret leaving."

"Why not?"

Her eyes lingered on the garden as she considered his question. She'd never admitted her true feelings out loud before, not even to herself. It felt wrong to want to leave that life behind, but it felt worse to ignore what was in her heart. Her dreams, her passions, they mattered too, didn't they? At least as much as duty and obligation? She hadn't been ready to admit the truth before, but if anyone could understand, it would be him.

"After our parents died, I realized I was pouring all of my energy into supporting my brother's dream instead of having any of my own. I love my brother, but I wanted more for myself."

Her eyes lowered from the stars to him. The faint glow of the hibachi reflected in his eyes, making them appear the colour of liquid gold. It made her feel self conscious sometimes, in moments like these, when she was reminded of how beautiful he was. It was easy to forget when they were training and going about their day-to-day chores, but not now. Now she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in those eyes and never look back.

"I would have lived a life of regret if I'd stayed," she confessed, her voice soft as she looked away. "Maybe not right away, maybe not until years from now, but eventually I would have regretted it."

"You never told him you left," he pointed out, and she sheepishly kept her eyes averted from his.

She felt an ache of sadness whenever she thought about her brother and how she would never see him again. It would be easier on him, wouldn't it, if she never returned? It would hurt him less if he lived the rest of his life believing she'd died rather than know the truth. She'd come up with a dozen ways to rationalize her decision to leave, but not any of them ever fully assuaged her guilt.

"I'm a bit of a coward, I guess," she said with a shake of her head. "I convinced myself it would be easier. That it would be less complicated if he thought I was dead. Maybe it was only easier for me…"

As she spoke, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and slowly braided it into a loose plait. "If I'd gone to Einosuke and told him I wanted to leave, he would have tried to talk me out of it. He probably would have succeeded, too. I couldn't think of a way to explain to him I wanted more from this life without it sounding like a selfish betrayal."

"It's not selfish to have dreams of your own," he said. "Or to choose your own path."

She made a soft sound of acknowledgement and focused on tying the yellow ribbon around the tail end of her braid. In some ways, Sesshomaru knew exactly how she felt. He'd chosen his own path as well and paid a steep price.

"Do you think you'll ever meet your brother?" she asked.

His expression clouded over. "I have no interest in meeting an infant."

"He won't always be an infant," she pointed out. "Some day he'll be grown. Maybe you two will become friends..."

"That is unlikely."

"Why?" she pressed. "You might end up having a lot in common."

"We are destined to always be rivals," he stated, as though it should have been obvious. "Someday we will battle to the death to determine who is strongest, just as I will eventually do with my father. It is inevitable."

"It doesn't have to be," she said. "You could decide to do things differently."

"I will never consider that half-breed to be my brother."

The venom behind his words took her by surprise and she went quiet. She hadn't intended to strike a nerve, but it seemed she'd done just that.

"Is it truly so awful to be human?" she asked.

"You are not like others of your kind," he said plainly, though she couldn't help but note the annoyed furrow that creased the space between his brows. She was certain he'd meant the words to be reassuring, but she only felt the well of sadness within her deepen.

Silence stretched between them and she tucked her knees up into her chest so she could rest her chin atop them. "When I saw you that first day in the forest, I remember thinking you were the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen," she confessed and smiled wistfully at the memory. "I was in awe of you. I guess I never considered you would see my kind as so much less."

Sesshomaru's eyes shifted to her and lingered. She waited, hoping she might have been mistaken and he would clear up any misunderstanding. After ten heartbeats of silence, she got to her feet.

"Good night, Lord Sesshomaru," she said, then offered him a polite bow and retreated inside.

The moment she slid the door to her room closed, she released the breath she'd been holding and rested her forehead against the cool wooden frame.

As much as she appreciated his honesty, it was heartbreaking to know that in his eyes, her kind would always be beneath him. And while it was perhaps unfair to expect more of demon nobility, she couldn't help but feel disappointed in him just the same.

oOo

Outside on the engawa, Sesshomaru pressed his palm to his forehead and grit his teeth in frustration. He'd hoped to reconcile with her tonight and put the events of the day to rest, but he'd only succeeded in making things worse.

Exhaling a weighted sigh, he fell back against the floor and lay staring up at the sliver of night sky he could see beyond the roof. Until he'd met her, he'd considered humans to be ignorant, violent, based creatures. He'd never hesitated to kill them, and certainly never would have mourned the death of one.

In his world, humans were expendable. A food source for some, an annoyance to others, but expendable nonetheless. Merely the news that his proud family bloodline would be polluted with human blood had turned him incandescent with rage. He'd attacked his father and lost an arm for his efforts, and then Tenseiga had dropped him at her doorstep. A wry smile curved his lips. It was difficult not to see the irony in his father's fang delivering him into the arms of the one human he could find cause to care for.

He turned his face towards the house and listened. She'd finished setting up her bedding for the night and was now running the comb through her hair. She hummed a tune as she worked, and he closed his eyes to listen. It continued to surprise him how seamlessly she fit into the fabric of his life. With each day that passed, it became more difficult to picture his world without her, and more difficult to remember what his life had been like without her in it.

And yet, thanks to his foolish conceit, he'd come too close for comfort to losing her. Another moment and the meido would have dragged her beyond his reach and into the Underworld. There, she would have been lost to him forever. The notion that he, Sesshomaru, was incapable of protecting a human was ridiculous beyond measure, and yet, he continued to find new and ever more idiotic ways to put her life at risk.

From inside the house, Rin's humming ceased and his eyes drifted open. He heard her blow out the taper on the table, then slip into bed, letting out a little shiver as she did so. A faint smile settled at the corners of his mouth. It would be so easy, wouldn't it, to live out their days here? Just the two of them together, free from the expectations of the world and everyone in it. It was a pleasant thought, and a dangerous one.

He waited until her breaths slipped into the deep rhythm of sleep, then set out in search of something that might mend the rift his carelessness had created. She deserved nothing less.

oOo

Rin awoke early the next morning to a grey morning sky. It matched her mood perfectly. She'd hardly slept while her mind obsessed over dissecting their conversation from every angle. How she would feel if she'd learned her father had taken a second wife, and the woman was with child? Betrayed. Angry. Heartsick... She'd never could have looked at him the same again. Yet she'd naively asked Sesshomaru to do just that, hadn't she? To accept the half-brother who was the end result of his father's affair?

She breathed out a despondent sigh and set her comb down. Still, she couldn't forget what she'd heard. Half-breed. He'd said the word with such venom. Maybe she'd been deluding herself into thinking they were growing closer here. After all, how could anyone truly care for someone when they hated the very essence of what they were?

The thought circled her mind as she opened the door to her room. Waiting on the floor outside was a wakizashi of her own. It was smaller than the Tenseiga, and a far more appropriate size for her. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, smiling at the length of yellow cord wrapped around the sheath. Apparently, even when it came to apologies, he preferred actions over words.

She headed out to the engawa and found Sesshomaru standing in the yard as if he'd been waiting for her. His eyes fell to the sword held tight in her hand.

"Shall we continue our training?" he asked, his voice muted by the morning mist. Their eyes locked for the space of three heartbeats, and in that time they each said what they needed to without saying a word.

She answered him with a soft but firm "Okay", then followed him down the path.