Over the next few days, Sesshoumaru dedicated himself to becoming familiar with his new arm. He went through rigorous training, testing the strength and precision of his novel limb. The regrown arm was his but felt oddly alien. It felt human with its soft fingernails as compared to the deadly claws of his other hand.
Regardless, Sesshoumaru found a new sense of satisfaction in his regained symmetry. It was almost euphoric, having this part of him returned. But his satisfaction was kept hidden behind the stoic demeanor that was as much a part of him as his silver hair or golden eyes. The smile that did play on his lips was kept secluded within the confines of his private chambers, away from the prying eyes of the servants.
During this period, Kagome found herself confined to bed rest once more. The energy expended in the arm-crafting process had taken a toll, and her body was recuperating from the massive drain. Lying on her back, she gazed at the ceiling, her thoughts wandering through the recent chain of events of the past days, or had it been weeks already?
With an assertive knock at the door, Kagome was roused from her thoughts. "Enter," she called, sitting up. The door slid open to reveal Sesshoumaru standing at the entrance. Kagome blinked in surprise. This was an unexpected visit.
"Sesshoumaru-sama," she greeted, inclining her head slightly. He walked into the room with the grace and regality befitting a lord. His golden eyes were as unreadable as ever.
"Kagome," he said, acknowledging her before halting at the feet her bed. There was a pause, the silence lingering between them.
"I thought to check on your condition," Sesshoumaru said finally, his voice calm and impassive. "Your good health is imperative for your journey home."
"I'm aware, Sesshoumaru-sama," Kagome retorted, a tinge of annoyance coloring her words. She didn't particularly appreciate being reminded of her weakness when she was more accustomed to playing the role of the caretaker. "I'm healing well. There's no need to worry."
The demon lord merely nodded, his gaze drifting off to the side. His conscience was burdened by the fact that her current weakened state was the price she had paid for healing him. After a bout of silence, he turned back to her.
"And Inuyasha, where is he?" Sesshoumaru asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's been many days since your arrival, and yet, he hasn't appeared."
A sigh escaped Kagome's lips, her expression softening as she replied, "That's just like Inuyasha." An apologetic chuckle accompanied her words. "He has a tendency to go off on his own, seeking out adventures and trouble. It could take days before he returns."
Sesshoumaru's perplexed expression was fleeting, so much so that Kagome almost missed it. "He leaves you alone," he stated, his tone flat but his eyes piercing. "Despite knowing the risks, he abandons his pregnant wife for 'adventures.'"
"It wasn't like that," Kagome defended, but her voice faltered. It was like that, she realized, but she'd never thought to question it. It was just...Inuyasha.
"But it was, Kagome," Sesshoumaru affirmed, and for a moment, his voice seemed to hold an uncharacteristic fervor. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual detached demeanor.
The room descended into silence once more, both lost in their thoughts. Kagome's heart pounded in her chest, her mind churning with newfound realizations. Sesshoumaru simply watched, his golden eyes contemplative as he left the room just as swiftly as he had entered.
After the demon lord's abrupt departure, Kagome couldn't help her mind from drifting to comparisons between the brothers.
Inuyasha was brash, impulsive, his affections always teetering on the edge of aggression. His love was raw, keen and, at times, overwhelming. Sesshoumaru, on the other hand, was a study in contrasts. His restraint and the distance he maintained were unchanging, yet there was an understated protectiveness about him that made her feel cherished, in a strangely reserved way.
As Kagome caught herself thinking amiably of Sesshoumaru, a rosy hue dusted her cheeks. Flustered, she turned over in her bed, hugging her pillow tightly, trying to shake off the disconcerting thoughts.
The young human woman had been watching Sesshoumaru from the corner of her eye ever since the day he regained the use of his left arm. As a healer, she was naturally concerned about the overall health of her patients, and despite the unique circumstances, Sesshoumaru was no exception. She was aware of the immense pain he had borne during the regrowth process. The excruciating ordeal of each nerve ending knitting back into place, and the energy it had drained from him as well. Though he bore it stoically, Kagome couldn't shake off her concern. It was this concern that brought her to the decision of conducting a physical examination, to ensure that his new arm was not causing any discomfort or straining his muscles.
"May I examine your arm, Lord Sesshoumaru?" Kagome ventured to ask, her gaze resting on the recently regenerated limb. They were alone, enjoying the tranquil serenity of the afternoon tea in the tatami room, with a shoji of the veranda open, showcasing the lush spring garden of the Western Lands.
Upon hearing her request, Sesshoumaru's eyes, which were until then observing the garden, sharply turned towards her. His golden gaze was filled with evident suspicion and uncertainty, quite uncommon for the stoic demon lord. "Why?" He asked curtly.
Kagome was taken aback by his immediate resistance but stood her ground. She knew it was crucial for his recovery. "Your arm," She started, grounding herself with a deep breath before plowing on, "It's a new limb, Lord Sesshoumaru. Even with my power, there might be latent issues that we didn't anticipate. The examination is to ensure everything is as it should be."
Sesshoumaru remained silent, his sharp gaze scrutinizing Kagome. Trust, especially in such intimate matters, was not something that came easily to him. However, his rational mind understood the practicality of her argument.
After a considerable pause, he gave a reluctant nod. His golden eyes, though still wary, showed a faint spark of curiosity, the acknowledgment of her genuine concern for his wellbeing evident in his silence. He carefully began to undo the knots of his kariginu, an outer robe worn by nobles and samurai of the feudal era. The upper garment of his attire fell away and pooled at his feet. He stood tall and regal, his chiseled chest bared before her. His pale skin was immaculate, a startling contrast against the rich fabric of his remaining clothes, showcasing a body forged from battles and discipline.
Kagome began her examination, her hands hesitating only for a moment before firmly pressing onto his hard muscles. Her touch was gentle, yet purposeful, tracing the hills and valleys of his well-toned body. Sesshoumaru's skin was warm to the touch, his hard musculature a testament to centuries of rigorous training. Each ridge and crease bore the imprint of her fingers, his body involuntarily reacting to her contact. Subtle ripples formed under his skin, muscles contracting and relaxing under her firm but gentle ministrations. Kagome could feel his power pulsating beneath her fingertips, the raw vitality of his demon nature encased in the calm visage of a man. It was an intoxicating sensation, one that would leave any woman breathless. But Kagome, with her dedication and resolve as a healer, was not just any woman.
She concentrated on his biceps first, her fingers roaming over the hardened sinew, tracing the contour of his muscles, the rhythm of his pulse, in search of any anomalies. She then moved on to his shoulder, where she could feel a hardened knot of muscle. Applying a bit more pressure, she asked, "Does it hurt here?"
"No." His response was immediate, a mere exhale that resonated in the room, his countenance unmoved.
Her fingers traveled downwards, tracing the broad canvas of his chest, their journey punctuated by his firm pectorals and the hard ridges of his ribs. Each contour provided more insight into his physical state, yet also revealed an intimacy that was unintentional but unmistakable.
"Here?" Kagome inquired again, her voice hushed, her palm delicately kneading the muscles along his sides.
"No." His denial was clipped, the single syllable strangely muted, his body a still figure under her touch.
Her hands continued their journey, skidding lower, her fingertips lightly tracing the hardened lines of his abs. The shift was unconscious, yet it deepened the intimacy of the moment, the air growing dense around them. A trail of silver hair that disappeared into his hakama was provocatively close to the tips of her fingers. The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with an unspoken tension. With a husky undertone, she queried, "Do you feel any discomfort elsewhere?"
The question hung in the air, an electric charge sparking between them. His golden gaze was riveted on her, the intensity of his stare making her heart flutter. "Yes," his voice was barely a whisper, a confession lingering in the still air.
Just as the word slipped past his lips, the shoji door was suddenly slid open.
"Lord Sesshoumaru, the evening meal has been served." Taneiko's voice announced obliviously, shattering the tension-filled silence.
Kagome's reaction was immediate and comical in its swiftness. Her face flushed a deep shade of red, and she stumbled over her words, "Oh! I...I should...um... go get washed up." She didn't wait for his response, instead, dashed out of the room, leaving a trail of flustered energy in her wake.
Before Sesshoumaru could react, Kagome was already gone. His golden eyes shifted to Taneiko, who, sensing his master's silent fury quickly retreated. The demon lord, now left alone, was met with an unexpected void, a strange absence where her presence had been moments before. A pang of something akin to longing hit him, but he dismissed it with a swift mental shove. He had no room for such sentimentalities.
Sesshoumaru stood alone in the silence, the ghost of her touch enduring on his skin. A heat had kindled within him, a primal reaction to her proximity, to her touch. He could still feel the paths her fingers had traced on his skin, the heat of her hand seeping into his flesh and a desire he hadn't anticipated.
Yet Sesshoumaru was a master of self-control. He quickly moved to rationalize the reaction of his body, attributing it to the unfamiliar sensation of human touch rather than any latent yearning towards the miko. The sudden physical attention had simply startled his senses, his body reacting involuntarily to the closeness.
"No," he whispered to no-one, denying the absurdity of the notion. The concept of harboring any emotional attachment towards Kagome was simply inconceivable. It was the residual effect of the healing, a mere physiological response, he concluded.
However, the intensity of his abjuration did nothing to quell the tight knot in his stomach or the pounding of his heart. He was left in solitude, grappling with the conflicting feelings that Kagome's departure had stirred within him, each beat of his heart echoing a denial that seemed less convincing with every passing moment.
A/N: Lemme just tell you this. I'm going to enjoy the shit out of tormenting Sesshoumaru. Huehuehuehue... 🌝