It was the first truly hot day of summer and she was standing knee deep in the river trying to catch a fish.

"You should join me!" she called to him, between waves of cicada shrieks. He'd been sitting idly on the shore watching her for some time and was perfectly content to remain just as he was.

"I do not like to get wet."

Rin pouted and waded deeper into the river.

"The water feels so nice and cool," she informed him, then closed her eyes and lifted her face to the mid-day sun to soak in its warmth.

He wondered sometimes if she had any sense of how radiant she was, even while completing the most mundane tasks. He could watch her for hours, catching fish or training with her sword. And he'd spent more than one afternoon listening to her hum tunes while she hung her laundry to dry, or combed her hair. Inside of her was a light unlike anything he'd encountered before, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to it.

Rin stretched her arms high above her head, then reached them into the water to catch fish swimming along the current.

"Do not go too deep," he cautioned, and she turned a smile on him.

"I'll be careful," she promised.

She angled herself in a more secure spot, then stood still with her arms elbow-deep in the water. He'd scoffed at her suggestion that it was possible to catch a fish with nothing more than her bare hands, and she'd set out to prove him wrong.

"Just because it isn't how YOU would catch a fish, doesn't mean it's a silly way to fish," she'd told him before tucking the hem of her kosode into her obi and marching into the river.

It wasn't that he didn't believe her—she'd kept herself well fed with the fish she'd caught from the river so far—but he couldn't resist the opportunity to give her the chance to prove him wrong.

"You just need to be patient," she said while her eyes remained intent on the water's surface. "The fish will come as long as you're still."

He sighed and glanced away. Patience had never been one of his strong suits. But he found it easier these days to wait for the things he truly wanted. He was beginning to see the value in enjoying the moment, so long as it was one spent with her.

"Ah hah!"

His eyes returned to Rin. She stood grinning from ear to ear with a fish held high overhead.

"Caught one!" she cheered and turned the fish's body so the sunlight reflected off its scales. She slowly waded through the river towards him, careful to pick her way around the sharp stones and branches that littered the riverbed. She'd nearly made it to shore when the fish wriggled, throwing her off balance, and sending her falling backwards into the water. She spluttered to the surface a moment later, without her fish and drenched from head to toe.

"Don't you dare laugh," she ordered, even though he'd never done such a thing before. It simply wasn't his nature to laugh at every little amusement. Still, his lip twitched with the effort of suppressing a smile and he tactfully diverted his eyes.

"We have time if you'd like to try again."

Rin sighed and stared down the river's winding trail as she weighed her options. He enjoyed her like this, eager and full of life. She would stubbornly insist on catching another fish just to prove it could be done. And it would mean she would eat well that night, with her belly full of her catch. There was no downside he could see to indulging her.

"I'll see if I can catch this next one even faster than before. I'm an old pro at this, you know. It's all a matter of timing."

He nodded and watched her get into position with her legs apart and her arms elbow deep in the water. She caught another fish almost immediately, pulling it up out of the water in a wide arc. It was bigger than the last and promptly pulled her off balance, dragging her under as she held tight to its wriggling body.

He waited for her spluttering cough and defeated splash as she pulled herself out of the water empty-handed once more. When it didn't come, his eyes immediately turned to the river. She wasn't there. He scanned the riverbank on the other side and leaned forward to see past the trees along the shore. She wasn't there. He was on his feet in the next moment, eyes fixed on the river, looking for any sign of her colourful kosode.

He called out her name in the hopes it was merely a prank. When she didn't answer, he stepped down onto the riverbank, soaking his boots, and tried again. "Rin!"

It was then that he caught the sound of her faint cry from much further down the river than he would have thought possible. Could the current have carried her so far? His feet leapt into action, racing down the riverbank. As he rounded the bend in the river, the rapids came up to greet him—rapids he'd forgotten were there. They hadn't posed a risk as far upstream as they were, but now he was leaping from one rock to the next in search of her, fully aware of just how strong the current could be in this part of the river. Could she even swim? He'd always assumed so, but wading through a river was a far cry from swimming in one.

"Lord Sesshomaru!"

Her cry was closer than before, but still much further down river than he would have liked.

"I'm coming, Rin!" he called out to her and was relieved to hear that his voice sounded strong despite the choking pressure in his throat. He redoubled his pace, aware that at any moment she could slip beneath the surface and he would lose sight of her forever. He would lose her forever…

I refuse…!

His heart clenched tight inside his chest and he stumbled on the next rock, barely catching himself and pushing off before landing in the river himself. It was then that he saw her clinging desperately to a tree branch that jutted out from the shore. The current was trying hard to pull her under, to drag her further downriver. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him and she tried calling out to him, but the sound never reached his ears. The water pulled her under instead, the broken branch still gripped tight in her hand.

He didn't hesitate to dive in. It was foolish, really, to do such a thing with his swords and armour still in place. He would need to spend hours drying and polishing them so they wouldn't rust. But every moment spent doing so would be worth it if it meant she was at his side, alive and well.

The weight of the metal around his chest pulled him down like a stone, until it felt as though he were swimming through mud, but he refused to give up. He grabbed hold of her wrist just before the current pulled her beyond his reach. The rest of her came with it and she flopped limply out of the water against him.

"I've got you," he assured her and half swam, half strode to the shore with her in tow. By the time he reached the shoreline, the exertion of having to fight against the current with the added weight of his armour had left him exhausted. He dragged her onto the sandy riverbank and knelt at her side. The sound of his breaths echoed between them. It was the only sound aside from the bubbling of the river behind them.

"Wake up," he insisted, and gently cupped her cheek, hoping to rouse her. "Rin."

Her brow furrowed, and she groaned softly. Her eyes were slow to open, but the moment they landed on him, a faint smile lifted her lips.

"I thought you couldn't swim?"

She was going to be fine. She was alive and awake and alert enough to tease him the way she always did. Relief pierced through his heart like an arrow.

"I said I didn't like to get wet, not that I didn't know how to swim," he corrected her and released the weighted breath he'd been holding since the moment she'd disappeared beneath the surface. Her warm brown eyes met his as her palm settled atop his hand and she sent him a tired smile.

"I'm sorry I worried you."

"We should return to the house," he said, then pulled back and helped her into a sitting position. She sat there a moment, disoriented, weakly wringing the river water from her hair and sleeves.

When she was ready, he helped her up and guided her hand around his neck. "Hold tight," he instructed. "It will be faster if we fly."

Her arms wound around his neck, leaving her clinging to him with her head perched against his shoulder. He lifted them both into the air and flew the short distance home. They ended up in the yard a few minutes later, and though their journey had ended, neither of them seemed ready to separate just yet. In time, he gently lowered her feet to the ground, and she released her hold on him.

Her clothes had taken on the slightly brackish smell of the river and were covered in sand. She tried to brush some of it off her kosode, but only spread it into a thin layer that covered her hands and every square inch of her attire.

"I guess I should go wash this all off," she lamented and frowned as she realized the yellow ribbon was gone from her hair. Fixing him with a withering look, she retreated inside to prepare for her bath.

In the meantime, he returned to the river, intent on finding her favourite yellow ribbon. And maybe he would catch a fish while he was at it.