He hadn't been able to return to the hut that night, swimming against the current until he'd collapsed on the beach in exhaustion. He awoke to sun and sand burning his skin and dove back into the water to rinse himself off. Standing on the shoreline, a yukata tied loosely around his waist, he stared into the distance, wondering if today would be the day the barrier would release and he'd be put out of his misery.
A sigh escaped his lips before arms wrapped around his waist, the miko pressing her face into his back. Instincts stirred, but he remained still, latching onto every bit of his training so he wouldn't give anything away.
"You looked like you needed a hug," she said.
"I was contemplating which path to take when I returned you to the village." He tried to dislodge her hands, but her grip only tightened.
"Liar," she admonished. "Something's been off since I got here. And don't say it's because your vacation was ruined because you've been able to do everything you wanted, even with me being here."
Pushing his damp hair out of his eyes, he turned to face her. "Miko, it is no business of yours whether I—" His words died in his throat.
She was wearing his clothes.
She looked down at herself, finally releasing him. "Sorry, I needed something to wear, and you didn't bring any soap with you, so I can't wash my robes."
Blood pooled around his fingers as claws punctured his palms. How many times had he envisioned this very image? The miko covered in his symbol, hair tousled, face flushed—the true implications almost sent him to his knees, and he grasped for some semblance of reality.
"You should not do such things when your intended is in the middle of preparing for your upcoming nuptials," he said, barely stopping himself from tearing it off her.
The miko's head cocked to the side, blue eyes blinking in confusion. "I don't have an intended."
The world tilted, the shield he'd been bracing himself behind, been hiding behind, cracking as her words sank in. "What?"
She frowned, still confused. "I don't have one. What made you think I did?"
"The wedding," he said weakly. "You asked for information on youkai traditions for Inuyasha. The uniting of two worlds—"
She laughed, holding onto his arm as she bent over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You think I'm marrying Inuyasha?"
"Are you not?" He kept asking questions, but her answers were lacking, and his mind was left spinning. "You continue to speak of his change in behaviour. Of everything he's done for you—"
She shook her head. "Not for me, for Sango!" Wiping the tears away, she finally straightened. "She's the leader of the slayer village, and she's marrying a hanyou. It's kind of a big deal."
The slayer. Inuyasha was marrying the slayer.
Not the miko.
Not Kagome.
The shield shattered, and he grabbed her, one arm locking around her waist as his head fell onto her shoulder. He wanted so much more, to taste her, but he could already sense her shock and didn't want to scare her away.
Not when there was a chance.
"I thought you knew," she said softly. "It's all Rin's been talking about. Sango asked her to be a bridesmaid—"
"She spoke of the special robes you were to wear."
She laughed again. "Because I'm the one marrying them! Kaede is making me a new set of robes because I'm the officiant."
Sesshoumaru sagged against her, everything falling into place and making much more sense to his tattered heart. He felt like he could breathe again. "I am glad."
"Are you?" she asked incredulously. "You've been avoiding me since I got here. Which is ironic since my power sent me to this place to keep me safe—" He couldn't help himself; she was draped in his clothes, their scents mixing in a tantalizing aroma that seeped into his very soul and had his mouth latching onto her throat, tongue dragging up to her ear.
She gasped and arched, clutching at his arms. Her aura spiked deliciously, and he slowly pulled back, finally meeting her gaze. "It didn't send you here," he said, struggling to keep his voice level. "It sent you to me."