Chapter Text
Rin opened her eyes slowly. The chill was not a fleeting breeze, but a gentle, lingering presence that traced along her skin and left goosebumps in its wake. Glancing down, she realized part of the futon had shifted, leaving her partially uncovered.
Even so, she was not alone.
Sesshoumaru was there.
It almost felt like a dream—silent and fragile—but he lay beside her, his mokomoko serving as a soft support beneath her head and back. His sleep had always been light; the faintest sound or the slightest ripple of youki was enough to rouse him instantly. Because of that, Rin moved with the utmost care, half expecting him to awaken the moment she shifted.
He did not.
And somehow, that moved her.
It meant he felt safe enough to truly rest.
Under the full glow of the moon, the youkai’s pale body lay unguarded—no armor, no rigid composure, no distance carved between himself and the world. Vulnerable in a way few had ever seen. Rin watched him quietly, taking in that rare stillness, and the memory rose unbidden: the first time she had seen him like this.
Wounded. Alone. Reduced to his human form in the forest near the village where she had grown up.
Back then, he had been at the mercy of fate.
Now, he was not defenseless—but he was at peace.
And he was beside her.
Rin rested her chin lightly against his chest, letting one leg drape over his lap, feeling the steady warmth beneath cool skin.
It was not simply that she was with the man she loved.
It was that she understood.
She finally understood what people meant when they spoke of love—its storms, its patience, its quiet endurance. It was not blind devotion. It was not dependence.
It was choice.
Her heart was bound to his.
And that was enough.
— Now I understand, Sesshoumaru-sama.
When he left her in the village under Priestess Kaede’s care, his only instruction had been simple: take care of yourself.
Rin had accepted without hesitation. Taking care of herself was something she had learned well.
But one question lingered quietly in her mind: if he was leaving, why was she not going with him?
— Of course I can keep her — Kaede had said. — But Sesshoumaru…
He lifted a brow slightly, his expression as impassive as ever.
Kaede continued, her tone measured.
— What happened? You did not seem to mind her company before. Have you changed your mind?
Rin waited calmly for his answer. Sesshoumaru-sama always had his reasons.
— It is nothing — he said. — I have merely returned her to the humans. That is where she belongs.
Returned.
The word stung, though she could not quite explain why.
Still, Kaede did not seem alarmed. Perhaps this was simply another of his solitary journeys. He always left.
And he always returned.
— Rin. Take care of yourself. You will stay here.
— Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama! I will! — she replied brightly. — When will you come back?
There was a pause.
A fraction longer than usual.
— When it is necessary.
Rin did not ask what that meant. She simply nodded. If he had decided it, there must be a reason.
Jaken had seemed unsettled that day, though he said nothing beyond reinforcing his lord’s orders.
Rin never once considered the possibility that it might be a final farewell.
She had always obeyed. She did her best not to be a burden. She learned quickly. She knew when to remain quiet. Soon, she would no longer be small or in need of constant protection.
He would come back for her.
Her certainty only began to waver as the days stretched on.
Ah-Un had not stayed behind. If this were temporary, the two-headed dragon would have remained with her. Sesshoumaru could fly on his own—he did not need Ah-Un.
So why?
The village, at least, was not lonely. Kaede-obaa-sama was there. Inuyasha-sama, Miroku-sama, and Sango-sama—newly married—Shippou, Kohaku. There was always something to do. Kaede taught her about herbs, cooking, spiritual basics. The simple knowledge expected of a priestess.
Rin did not intend to become one, but she enjoyed learning.
More than that, she enjoyed feeling welcomed.
Living among humans again was strange, but not unpleasant.
What felt strange was the absence.
— He’ll come back — Kohaku told her one afternoon.
— You think so?
— I do. He must be handling something important.
Rin smiled. Kohaku was serious, but kind. They had become almost like siblings.
That day, they were fishing when a familiar sound cut across the sky. Rin looked up and saw it—the enormous dog-youkai soaring above the village.
Her heart leapt.
— Sesshoumaru-sama!
But he flew past.
She stared at the empty sky for a moment longer than she meant to.
— Calm down — Kohaku said gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. — He came back. You saw him.
She took a breath. Then smiled again.
— I should do something for him.
— Like what?
— Food!
If he had traveled so far, he must be hungry.
She had not forgotten the first time she tried to offer him food—how bluntly he had refused. But he had been wounded then. Guarded. Suspicious.
This time would be different.
She prepared fish and simple side dishes she had learned from Kaede. Humans liked fish. Animals did too. Surely it was not a poor choice.
When everything was ready, she went looking for him.
— Sesshoumaru-sama!
He had landed some distance from the village, as he often did. He stood as he always had—like a warrior prince untouched by defeat.
— Welcome back!
— Rin.
— Ah, Rin…!
— Jaken-sama! Welcome back as well!
— You behaved yourself, I hope — Jaken said.
— Yes! I am doing very well!
— Excellent.
Then Sesshoumaru spoke.
— This Sesshoumaru has something for you.
Rin’s eyes widened slightly as he withdrew a wrapped bundle from his mokomoko and handed it to her. Inside was a length of fabric in soft shades of purple.
— Make good use of it.
— It is beautiful, Sesshoumaru-sama!
— Rid yourself of those rags! — Jaken added.
Rin bowed in gratitude.
— I have something for you as well.
For a fleeting moment, something akin to curiosity flickered in his eyes.
She led him back to Kaede’s house.
When she offered him the meal, there was a brief silence.
Then he accepted it.
He sat down and began to eat.
Kaede, Kohaku, and Jaken watched in quiet astonishment. Jaken seemed particularly stunned.
Rin tried not to show her nervousness. Had he once said he disliked human food? Could it harm a youkai?
Yet he ate.
With precise, elegant movements. With quiet composure. Like someone born to a noble lineage.
Like a true prince.
— It was… delicious — Jaken blurted, then quickly corrected himself. — I mean—thank you, on behalf of Sesshoumaru-sama.
Rin smiled.
— I am happy you came back.
Jaken’s expression shifted.
— Rin… you understand that you will be living here from now on, do you not?
— Hee…?
Before she could ask more, Sesshoumaru rose to his feet, silencing Jaken with a subtle, impatient gesture.
— Rin — he said.
His voice was not cold.
Nor distant.
— We need to talk.