Though he required very little, that didn't mean supplies didn't grow in abundance, providing the miko with the herbs she needed to heal.
Her appetite was limited by the lingering nausea from the attack, and for once, Sesshoumaru was grateful for Shippou's nagging about the lack of mixed food in the shiro. The aroma from the surrounding village was tantalizing, but the boy had been insistent about learning how to cook it himself. Sesshoumaru had had to step in to keep him from setting the kitchen on fire.
Youkai were used to bland food, as spices could be used to dull the senses, but growing up around the miko had shifted the kit's tastebuds to more human in nature. He could barely reach the stove when he first started living at the shiro, so he'd relied on his magic to move things around—his foxfire threatening to set the place ablaze on more than one occasion.
Rin had enjoyed his concoctions, giving him feedback in the form of uninhibited facial expressions whenever she tried something new, and Sesshoumaru had been meticulous about memorizing and writing down the correct measurements so Shippou could use them the next time he got creative.
As it was, all the miko could stomach was a simple broth and some berries, and even then, it was only a few spoonfuls at a time. He'd hoped to leave her to her own devices, but the poison continued to leave her weak, and he'd been forced to feed her himself.
Except there was no 'forced' about it because he checked on her every hour, unable to leave well enough alone where she was concerned.
"I hope the others were able to take care of the hoard," she said, leaning against the headboard of his bed, exhausted from simply walking around the hut. "There were a lot of them."
"You will have to question them when we return," he replied, placing a tray beside her.
"You can't signal anyone now?"
Sesshoumaru shook his head. "It is a scheduled getaway, miko. The barrier will not open for several days."
She huffed in annoyance, then smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry for ruining your vacation. I'm sure this wasn't what you had in mind."
"There is nothing to be done about it," he said, grabbing her elbow and raising her injured arm, the miko hissing when it got to shoulder height. "You required more salve." He padded to the kitchen, the remnants of the herbs he'd gathered at her request still on the counter. Pressing them into a bowl, he ground them into a paste, adding some of his saliva to quicken the process.
Heading back into the next room, he stopped in the doorway, the bowl nearly shattering between his hands as he watched her pull her good arm out of her sleeve, leaving her top mostly bare. "What are you doing?" he hissed.
She winced as she twisted slightly, showing off her ribs. "They got me here too," she said, motioning to a second set of puncture wounds. "It's been bugging me, and applying the salve without my clothes in the way is easier." She wrinkled her nose as she rolled the kosode into a ball. "I need to wash these anyway."
It took everything he had not to react. All she had on was that strange chest covering, which didn't cover much of anything, purple streaks cutting across her skin from where she'd been bitten. "I was not aware there was more than one wound. I apologize for not treating it sooner," he said, sitting stiffly beside her.
"You have no reason to apologize," she replied, reaching for the bowl. "None of this is your fault." Her compassion was always so far-reaching, and though he knew there was nothing he could've done to prevent the attack from happening, the uselessness he felt at not being able to do much after the fact had his claws clenching in his lap.
"You should rest," he said softly, then tapped the tray. "After you eat something."
The miko nodded, wrapping herself in strips of fabric he'd cut from one of the few kimono he'd brought with him. "I'll try."