InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ In a Different Light ❯ Moving Mountains ( Chapter 8 )

In a Different Light

Chapter 8: Moving Mountains

How foolish, Sesshomaru smirked.

He closed his eyes and, again, tried to focus. Focus on the cool, clear water around him, the smoothness of the rock beneath him, the gentle spray of water on his back, the quiet roar of the waterfall behind him. Concentrate on the rising mist; the chirping crickets; the croaking toads; the wind working its way through his hair; the distinct scents of spring water, green grass, damp earth, and the crisp, mountain air.

A frown worked its way between his brows. That worm had also smelled of earth and grass . . . and blood, death and decay . . . rot and slime and . . . human waste.

He flinched inwardly at the recent memory. So close, he thought.. That monster had come so close to . . .

He forced his eyes open and clenched his fist, a low growl working its way up from the back of his throat. It was foolish to dwell upon things that had not happened.

Rin was not dead. She had not been eaten. She was not harmed.

To keep feeding these morbid fantasies was foolish.

The worms were dead. Rin was safe. Everything was fine. But, his mind insisted, what if?

You saw them both standing there. Jakken, fool that he was, was directly in the worm's path about to be swallowed, and Rin stood safely off to the side. She was clearly . . . frightened by what was going. Her body tensed, her face contorted in a scream, the scent of her fear catching in your nostrils, demanding your immediate attention . . . But she was safe. The worm was not after her. But then . . .

His mouth took a noticeable downturn at the thought of it. She deliberately placed herself in harm's way to save that toad . . . that worthless retainer, that bumbling buffoon, that misshapen misanthrope . . . Why did she do such a thing?

It was so reckless, so foolhardy, so thoughtless, so . . . much like her old self.

A smirk, again, found its way to his thin lips. Were she not so reckless, so foolhardy, so thoughtless, she never would have approached the wounded demon she found lying in the forest. No other human would've approached such a wild-looking and feral creature. They would've run and hidden, or gathered up a troop of men in an attempt to kill him . . . But she did neither. Despite his attempt to scare her off-eyes ablaze, claws bared, fangs exposed in a vicious snarl-she stood, and she stared, and she stayed by him . . . Had she been any other human, they never would have met, and she wouldn't be with him right now.

A thoughtful frown crossed his normally impassive visage. She wasn't with him, now. He'd left her at the campsite with the toad. He'd left her because she had . . . frightened him. For something so meek and mild to be so fearless . . . She could've been hurt. She could've been killed. She could've been eaten and swallowed with no way to revive her.

A dull pain made itself known in the middle of his chest.

The Lord of the Western Lands scoffed. "You are a hypocrite," he declared audibly. To treat your father with such disdain because he worried over his human mate. To taunt and tease your half-breed brother for his myriad of miko problems. How are you, now, any different than they?

"By the gods," he mused, "the Fates are cruel."

"Are they?" a small voice asked.

He looked up to see Rin standing on the riverbank, approximately 30 feet in front of him. How was it that she was able to sneak up on him so efficiently, now?

"The Fates are cruel?" she repeated. Her slight form was half shrouded by darkness, half bathed in moonlight and completely covered in mist from the falls, the blue of her kimono blending into the background of the night.

"They are," he replied with a slight nod.

"I've always thought they were more mischievous than cruel," she said. "They seem to have a rather . . . dry sense of humor, I guess."

He considered her words for a moment. "I can't say that I find their actions . . . humorous."

"But, when have you ever found anything humorous?" she asked with a wry smile.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She continued to linger on the shoreline, digging her toe in the dirt, occasionally glancing up at him.

"Was there something you wanted?" he asked.

She gave a slight shrug, then she raised her head and regarded him. Her head tilted, her eyes unblinking, her jaw line tense, her lips slightly parted, as if to speak.

"Rin?"

"I . . . I don't wanna have to yell across the river."

"Oh?"

She made no motion to move, and neither did he. He sat on his stone, and she stood on the shore, staring at each other.

Certainly, she doesn't expect me to come to her, he thought. She is the one who wishes to speak with me. Had I wanted to speak with her, I would've gone to her. But if she wishes to speak with me, she should come to me.

The mountain doesn't come to the villager, Rin reminded herself. You can't both be mountains in this instance. One of you has to make a move, and, apparently, it has to be me. She broke eye contact and stooped over to raise the hem of her kimono.

What is she doing?

Once the hem reached above just above her knees, she knotted it, tying it into place. She then stepped into the water.

How foolish, he thought as he watched her cross the river on her way to him. She doesn't even know how deep the water is. How strong the current is. She knows nothing about the situation, and, yet, she walks blindly into it.

Reckless, he cursed beneath his breath. Foolish, reckless, thoughtless . . .

She caught his gaze and smiled up at him as she sank deeper into the river, the water rising to just below her calf.

He didn't, consciously, smile back at her, but he did feel a slight tug at the corners of his mouth. And the pain in his chest seemed to . . . lessen, somewhat. Strange, he thought.

As she drew closer to him, something silver caught his attention a little below her knee. The way it gleamed in the moonlight . . .

"Rin, stop."

Her wading came to a halt, and she looked up at him, less than ten feet in front of him.

"What's that beneath your robe?" he gestured to the shiny object just below her knee.

"It's my . . . sword," she lifted her skirt a little, further exposing the blade. "Master Li gave it to me."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

"He's been teaching me some sword techniques," she said. "For defense," she added. "I haven't had to actually use it, yet . . . except in practice, but . . ."

He studied her face, gauging the truth of her words. "May I see it?" he asked.

She hesitated slightly, then nodded. She stooped down and unfastened the knot in the bottom half of her robe, holding the hem in place with her right hand. With her left hand, she lifted the left side of her robe back, fully exposing the sword and its holder, situated high on her outer thigh.

"That is not a proper place for a weapon."

Rin laughed to herself, a slight blush working its way into her cheeks. "A swordsman may carry his weapon where every man may see it, but I'm not a swordsman."

"Then what are you?" he asked.

"I'm just a student," she said.

He continued to eye the blade high on her, surprisingly toned, thigh.

Rin swallowed hard.

"This embarrasses you, doesn't it? Showing yourself to me like this?"

She chuckled uneasily, holding the rest of her robe firmly in place. Her heart rate increased, and her blush deepened.

"Why?" he asked.

"Who knows what you'll do?" she answered quickly.

"Do?" he repeated.

"Do," she replied meekly, her head bowed, her eyes searching out the space of water directly in front of her feet.

Sesshomaru stood, his feet splashing down into the water.

Step by step, she listened as he made his way over to her. "By the gods," she mumbled to herself. She could see his feet directly in front of her. Feel his amber eyes boring into the back of her head. Hear the crash of the waterfall behind them. Smell the freshly spun silk of his clothing. Taste the bile as it tried to force its way up the back of her throat . . . By the gods, how had she let Jakken talk her into this?

He stood before her, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge him. He could see how her body tensed and shuddered at the mere nearness of his body to hers. He could hear her heart racing, her pulse pounding, the rapid intake and out-take of breaths. He could smell the adrenalin coursing through her system and the slight film of perspiration forming above her upper lip. And he could just imagine the taste of that sweat as it dissolved on the tip of his tongue, but . . . Now, was not the time for that.

"Rin," he said softly.

She chanced a timid glance up at him.

He met her gaze and locked it in place. "I am not an animal, Rin."

"I-I . . . I didn't think that you were," she finally said.

"As much as I might like to," he began, "I will not touch you without your consent."

"C-consent?" she repeated.

"I never knew you to be a stutterer," he mused.

She chuckled uneasily. "It's because you caught me a little . . . unprepared," she said.

"Unprepared for what?" he asked. "Isn't this Master Li supposed to be teaching you defense?"

She could only nod her response . . . It was so easy to get pulled into the depths of eyes.

"Speaking of which, you may drop your robe, Rin."

"Huh?"

He felt another smile tug at the corners of his lips. "Drop the hem of your kimono," he said.

"Oh. I forgot." She let the bunched up material fall to her feet, the fabric floating outwards, getting caught up in the ripples from the waterfall.

"When I asked to see your sword," he said, "I meant for you to unsheathe it and place it in my hand."

"Oh," she gasped. "By the gods I'm stupid. I-I should've known you didn't wanna see anything like that."

He gave her an appraising gaze, starting at her face and working his way down. "I wouldn't be so sure," his eyes again found hers. "Though, at the time, my interest was primarily in the blade, your body proved to be quite a . . . pleasant distraction."

She could feel the flush creep down her face to her neck and upper chest.

"But I digress," he turned and resumed his seat on the stone. "What is it you wish to speak to me about?"

She moved the rest of the way towards him. With him sitting, and her standing, they were exactly the same height. She stood off to his left side, a little to the rear. "I wanted to know if you were mad at me," she said.

He'd been working through that just before she came.

She'd deliberately placed herself in danger just to save that inferior imp . . . She could've been eaten. She could've been crushed... Anything could've gone wrong. One false step, and he could've lost her forever.

The worms had been overly resilient, and his weapons had little to no effect on the creatures . . . If Jakken hadn't been there . . .

But, by the same token, because Jakken was there . . .

"What?" he glanced over his shoulder to see Rin standing behind him, her fingers threaded through his hair, her nails, gently dragging against his scalp. "What are you . . ."

A shy smile crossed her lips. "Jakken said you'd like it," she said. "Am I doing it right?"

He fought back the low growl, working its way up from his chest, and simply nodded.

She smiled in reply and continued to run her long, lean fingers back and forth over his rather sensitive scalp.

Now, there was some small part of him that wanted to resist the gentle fondling of her fingers, ignore the tender touches from the tips of her nails and escape from the soothing strokes from the palms of her hands. This small part demanded that he stop her and immediately tell her what she'd actually done. This small part wanted him to ruin his fun and embarrass the poor girl by telling her she was doing things horribly out of order.

"Is this nice for you?"

He drew in a deep breath and let his eyes drift closed. "Very."

"Are you mad at me?"

Tell her that this is wrong, the small part insisted. Tell her she's skipped an entire stage. Tell her . . . "You should be more careful," he finally said.

"I couldn't just stand by and let Jakken get eaten."

He raised an eyebrow, but kept both eyes closed. "It is not your responsibility to look after the imp. He is supposed to be watching over you."

"But sometimes that's not possible," she said. "Sometimes--"

"Impossible," he interrupted. "It is his duty . . . It is my duty. Failure is unacceptable."

So, she thought, that's the way it is. "But nobody failed anybody today. Everybody walked away in one piece."

"I have eyes," he said. "I can see that." Tell her she's breaking with a very ancient tradition, the small part continued. Tell her that she doesn't know if you're a good protector, or a good provider, yet. Tell her . . .

"Nonsense," he muttered.

"Hmm?"

"I was simply clearing my throat."

She nodded her understanding. "You know, I'd forgotten how nice how your hair feels."

"Oh?"

She nodded again.

Tell her, the small part insisted.

I am an excellent provider, he reasoned with himself. Everything she owns, I gave her.

Except the sword, the small part reminded him. Master Li gave her that. So she could protect herself.

She should be able to protect herself, he pointed out. The world is an insecure place. I wish her to be safe.

But isn't that your job? The voice asked. Isn't that your duty? To keep her safe?

It is, he acknowledged.

Then it's an insult. She doubts your abilities, so she must depend on herself.

It is not an insult. It is a necessity . . . Being with me puts her at a greater risk.

But she's already so careless with her life. Today just proves it. She's foolish, reckless, thoughtless . . .

Selfless, Sesshomaru added. It is not foolishness, nor recklessness, nor thoughtlessness...

He remembered when the girl first stumbled across his prone form . . . He was alone. He was in pain. And he was quite . . . angry, having lost to that half-breed brother of his again. First, he'd cost him his arm. Then, he'd cost him his dignity, having to accept assistance from a human child.

But, despite great risk to herself and a beating she'd received from the hands of her own people, she came to him day after day, bringing him food and water and keeping him company in her own, quiet way.

"I don't mean to worry you," she said.

He nodded his reply.

"In fact, I plan on studying extra hard, so I won't be such a burden on you and Jakken... I-I think I did pretty well for myself today, don't you? I mean, I think my masters would be pleased." She moved from the top of his head to the nape of his neck, running her fingers beneath the silky strands, caressing the curve where mind and body connected.

He suppressed another growl and continued with the conversation as usual. "You think quite highly of your instructors, don't you?"

Rin nodded. "Master Sumida is tall and strong, and elegant and graceful. She's the epitome of power through fluidity when she moves. I mean, you should see her. She's quite beautiful when she works her way through all the postures."

Sesshomaru nodded, eyes closed and a barely noticeable smile on his lips. "Can you not see those same things in yourself?"

"No," she giggled. "I can't see them. But . . . if you say they are there, then they must be."

"I do say," he said. "Master Sumida thinks you're an excellent student."

"Really?" she smiled.

"Does she not tell you so herself?"

"Well, she does, but . . ."

"But?"

"I dunno," she said. "Maybe she's just trying to be nice. Trying to encourage me instead of discourage me."

"Isn't that what a good instructor does?"

"I suppose."

"Then you should not doubt her words. Nor mine."

Rin smiled and slightly increased the pressure applied to his scalp.

Tell her, the voice insisted again. Tell her that her touch is driving you crazy . . . Ask her if she really knows what she's doing. Ask her if she knows what it means. Ask her . . .

"And what do you think of your Master Li?" he asked.

"He's like the grandfather I never had," she said.

"As an instructor," he said. "Not as a person."

"Oh, I quite like him," she said. "He taught me how to disarm an armed an attacker. And how to walk without making a sound. And that right breathing leads to right motion. And strength doesn't necessarily equal power. And a warrior's greatest opponent is his own pride."

He raised an eyebrow at this. "Pride?" he repeated.

Rin nodded. "To face an opponent thinking you can't ever be defeated, is to underestimate that opponent. And you should never underestimate an opponent," she said. "It leaves you open to all sorts of unexpected attacks."

Sesshomaru scoffed. "And how does your Master Li approach a battle?" he asked.

"If the battle is unavoidable, he makes a short prayer to the gods, asking them for victory and an assurance that both men will walk away with their lives."

"Nonsense," he said. "It is kill or be killed. If they seek my life, they will forfeit theirs in exchange."

Rin was quiet for awhile. "I'm sure that works well for you, but Master Li is a peaceful man. He doesn't believe in the ways of violence and aggression . . . He is a monk, after all."

"Precisely. And what would a monk know about a warrior's spirit? He would sooner turn and run than stay and fight."

"That's true," she said. "But he's never lost a fight."

"Never?" he repeated.

"Well, except when he was very young and inexperienced. But he's a Tai Chi master, now. He can move mountains with the force of his chi."

He, again, pondered her words. "Have you seen him do this?" He glanced over his shoulder to her nod.

"He made the mountain tremble," she said.

"And he's never lost a fight," he said.

"Never," she repeated.

He reluctantly found himself thinking about InuYasha and the Tessaiga. The feel of the blade severing his arm. The force of the Windscar as it attempted to tear through his body. The cocky grin on his half-brother's face . . .

"Sesshomaru?"

The nerve. The insolence. The audacity . . . He was just a lowly half-breed, and he was the Lord of the Western Lands, the eldest son of the great InuTaisho.

"Sesshomaru . . ."

That bastard half-breed with his polluted blood . . . For him to think that he was his better...

"Sesshomaru . . ."

He glanced over at the woman, now, standing beside him . . . the human woman standing beside him.

She reached up and swept her hand through his bangs. "What's wrong? You got all tense?"

Tell her, the voice insisted. Tell her what you've been thinking. Tell her what you've been feeling.

She continued to run her fingers through his hair. Smiling at him, soothing him, grooming him.

Tell her!

"I was very . . . angry with you today," he said smoothly.

Her brown eyes continued to glow. Her smile lost none of its warmth. Her hand continued on its course through his hair. She nodded gently, signaling her understanding.

"You deliberately placed yourself in harm's way," he said. "I could see you. I could see Jakken, and I could see the approaching worm."

"It was frightening," she said softly.

"I could smell your fear," he said. "And the stench and decay of that worm. And Jakken just stood there."

"It took him by surprise," she said. "It took me by surprise. We thought you'd killed it."

Tell her, the voice demanded. Tell her, or you'll never stop thinking about it.

"Sesshomaru?"

Stop being so stubborn. So arrogant. So . . . prideful.

He growled inwardly at this annoying, little voice.

You underestimated your brother, and what did it get you? A severed arm and a wounded ego.

He mentally scoffed at this small part of himself.

"Are you so angry that you won't speak to me?" Rin asked.

You know her Master Li was right. Her human Master Li was right . . . Pride is a warrior's greatest opponent . . . Admit it, the voice said. You lost because of it once. You lost because of it twice. Will you let it defeat you again?

"Sesshomaru?"

Will you lose this girl the way you lost your arm and your battle with InuYasha? Is she so low that she's not worthy to hear your thoughts?

And if that is the case, why do you have such an . . . intimate interest in so low a creature?

"My lord?"

He allowed a smirk to form on his thin lips. "I thought we were passed that." He watched as the worry faded from her face, replaced by her previously warm expression. "The Fates are truly cruel," he said.

"That's the second time you've said that, Sesshomaru. Why?" she asked.

He regarded her warm face, her shimmering eyes . . . her gentle smile . . . "You plague me, Rin." He spoke barely above a whisper, his eyes staring intently into hers.

"Plague?" she repeated. "Like a disease? A sickness?"

"Demons do not get sick," he said. "We are strong, fierce, resilient creatures."

She seemed to consider this. "But I plague you?" she asked.

"Your face won't leave my mind. Your voice continues to ring in my ears. Your scent is imbedded in my nostrils. Your touch . . . lingers on my skin . . . But you are weak," he continued. "You are wretched. You are cursed and low . . . You are not worthy of my time or attention."

Her hand slipped from his hair as tears slid down her cheeks. Her lower lip trembled and her skin suddenly paled and dulled; her brown eyes grew glassy and large.

So sensitive, he thought. Further proof of their fragile nature. More reason for him to hate her, but . . .

He continued to hold her gaze. "You are human, Rin. Yet, you still plague me."

She sniffed back tears, refusing to back down from his stare. "And so you despise me for it . . ."

The salt of her tears assaulted his senses. The tremble in her voice tugged at his chest. The frown on her face made him want to cringe . . . "No," he finally said. "I do not despise you, Rin." The words slipped from his lips in a quiet confession.

"Then what?" she demanded.

"I do not despise you," he repeated. "I despise the Fates. I despise my father. I despise my brain-dead half-brother . . . And I despise myself."

Some small part of him smiled.

"I don't understand," she said. "What's this mean?"

He suppressed a wry grin. "I don't understand, either."

She sniffed and swiped some of the tears away with her sleeve.

"May I?" he asked.

She blinked at him, not understanding. "May you what?"

He extended his clawed hand and curled his index finger, positioning it inches in front of her face. "May I?" he repeated.

She glanced down at his hand, then up at his face into his eyes. She stared for a moment, her head tilted to the side, then slowly nodded.

He brought the finger to her face, then wiped away the offending wet trails. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he said. "I was simply being honest . . . It seemed the best thing to do at the time."

She stood stock still as he removed remaining tears, switching from his finger to his thumb as he changed cheeks. "I still don't understand," she said softly.

"Nor do I," he said. "I thought . . . I thought I'd put such foolishness far behind me."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

How quaint, he thought. She's picked up one of my mannerisms. "Yes," he said. "These . . ." He continued to run his finger along her face, despite the fact all her tears were dried and gone. "These feelings . . . are quite disruptive. They impede logic, delay rational thought, cloud your judgment. They . . . they make you forget who you are, what you are."

She leaned into his caress. "So . . . you have feelings for me."

He could feel the heat rising in her face, smell her growing arousal, see a bright spark, burning in the back of her eyes.

"The great and terrible demon Lord of the Western Lands has feelings for a weak, wretched, cursed and low human, who is not worth his time or attention."

It wasn't a question, but he felt the need to reply. "Yes."

She swallowed hard. "And why would he allow himself to feel such things for a creature he does not despise, but makes him despise himself?"

His hand traveled lower, beneath her chin, gently sweeping his claws over her visibly feverish flesh. "He has no control over these feelings . . . They don't obey his command. They don't recognize his authority. They speak out of turn."

"I see," she said. "And what will this great and terrible lord do with these feelings for this weak . . . wretched . . . cursed . . . low . . . human?" The words were derisive, but her tone was seductive.

He ardently tried, but miserably failed to repress the growl that rose from the center of his chest and filled the falls with the sound of denied desire and forsaken feelings. "I would take her," he said through clenched teeth and pursed lips. "I would take and make her mine, so that she could never plague another hapless creature in such a cruel and relentless fashion."

She reached out with a smile and stroked the side of his face, tracing his magenta stripes with the tips of her fingers. "And if she'll not be taken?" she said simply.

His blood quickly cooled and his hand suddenly came to a halt.

Not be taken, he repeated to himself. She would refuse me? She'll not be taken?

For all the world, for just a few seconds, a single drop in the sea of time, Rin could swear he looked as if he were going to cry . . . Of course, he wouldn't. He couldn't. He'd never allow himself to do such a thing, but . . . that raw, pained, desperate emotion she saw flicker in the depths of his eyes . . . She'd seen it in her own eyes so many times.

But as quickly as the emotion appeared, it was gone.

His hand fell from her face, and she felt him stiffen beneath her touch. "You would refuse me?" He spoke so softly it sounded more like a voice in the back of her own head than a question from the Lord of the Western Lands. "Answer me."

She recoiled at the terseness in his voice, withdrawing her hand into her robe. "No," she said softly. "I would not."

"Then why would you say such a thing?"

"I was only teasing," she said. "I didn't--"

"You mock me," he said smoothly.

She swallowed hard and tried to control the tremble in her voice. What was once intimate had turned icy. "I wasn't thinking," she said simply. "I was just . . ."

He regarded her with a cool, even glare.

She couldn't really be surprised, though. Given the situation, the nature of his declaration, the sincerity with which he spoke . . . Of course, he'd react this way to her teasing.

He'd left himself open and exposed, treading on completely unfamiliar territory, and she . . . wasn't thinking.

She felt the sting of tears prick at her eyes.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm stupid," she said with a pout. "You were being open and honest and serious and sincere and . . . I tried to turn it into a stupid game. I'm stupid."

Her tears, again, assaulted his senses. Her frown made his chest clench. Her slumped posture subconsciously pulled him towards her. "I don't like it when you cry, Rin."

She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry," she said. "Really, really sorry. I'm so backwards and stupid . . . If I had feelings for me, I'd hate myself, too."

He sighed inwardly, but didn't let the sound escape from his lips. "You . . . frightened me today, Rin."

She looked up at him at this admission, tears still streaming down her face. "My lord fears nothing," she said stoutly.

"No." He looked away from her as he clenched and flexed his claws. "That creature . . . came that close . . . to taking away the one thing that . . . matters most to me in this life, Rin." He drew in a deep breath and pushed it out. "I was frightened, and I didn't like it . . . I don't like . . . not being in control. I despise myself for this lack of control."

She willed her tears to stop and extended a tremulous hand to stroke the back of his head. "I-I don't wish you to have bad feelings towards yourself . . . especially because of me," she said. "I want to make you happy, not . . . miserable."

He forced himself to look at her. Her sad face; her swollen eyes; the salty tears, trickling down her pale cheeks. He had caused this. "I believe it's unavoidable."

She forced a smile and regarded him with big, brown eyes, brimming over with unshed tears. "The Fates are cruel."

He, again, raised his hand, bending his index finger, preparing to wipe away her tears. "May I?" he asked.

She nodded her consent.

"Sometimes," he said, sweeping over her cheeks, alternating between finger and thumb, "the Fates' cruelty is actually a great kindness."

She swallowed hard and wet her lower lip. "You're just trying to be nice."

"Me?" he said. "Trying to be nice? You must be teasing again." He delivered the lines without an ounce of humor, without a whit of wit, as cool and evenly as ever . . . but, still, it had the desired effect.

Rin smiled.

"That is the face I always want to see."

Her smile grew.

He continued to caress her face, cleaning it of all salty residue.

"You're quite good at this," she said.

"Making you cry?"

She chuckled warmly, easily, some of that old spark returning to her eyes. "No," she said. "Making me feel better."

He nodded in reply to her compliment. "Is the water too cold for you?"

"No," she shook her head. "Both Master Li and Master Sumida have been training me in extreme temperatures. There's a type of yoga that's done in a very hot room, so you can sweat

out your impurities and strengthen your body. And there's a meditative state that can only be triggered by an uncomfortable amount cold."

"Oh? And you've endured these types of training?"

She nodded, cheerfully. "I'm standing here, aren't I?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, letting his hand slip down her face and back into his own lap.

"I meant no disrespect. It's just . . . Yeah, I've endured it."

"How is it that you always manage to surprise me in some way?"

Rin shrugged. "Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do."

He considered this for a moment. Perhaps he had underestimated his opponent. Perhaps he had underestimated his half-brother because of his human heritage and the weakness he thought it entailed.

He'd underestimated his opponent, so his opponent was able to surprise him . . . defeat him, disgrace him. Take his arm, wound his . . . pride.

Perhaps there was some truth to the human's words, this Master Li. This human had never been defeated. A mere mortal man could move mountains with the strength of his chi, yet he says a prayer before every battle, asking for victory and that he and his opponent both walk away with their lives . . . Now, the Lord of the Western Lands had no intention of letting his opponents walk away with their lives, but . . . perhaps the mortal's other words were of some merit.

Pride could be a weakness, and as such, some things needed to be rethought.

"And perhaps I don't know you as well as I thought," Rin said, recalling that raw, pained, desperate expression she'd seen flash briefly in the depths of his amber eyes.

"Perhaps not," he said evenly. So . . . perhaps some humans were worthy of reconsideration, reexamination . . . Rin, of course. And perhaps her Master Li with his seemingly wise words, and . . . InuYasha, especially, considering . . .

Rin continued to sweep her hands through his hair, a smile on her lips, the moonlight and the mist making her appear as some divine vision, as opposed to the human that he knew her to be.

Yes . . . InuYasha, especially, considering any offspring born between Rin and himself would likely take after his half-brother.

"You are quiet again, Sesshomaru. Why?"

He let a smile shine through his eyes, but refused to let it show otherwise on his face. "I am thinking."

"Oh?" she, again, raised an eyebrow at him.

"I would ask that you stop touching me," he said smoothly.

"Oh." She let her hand drop to her side.

"It's improper for a couple who has just begun courting one another to touch each other in such a familiar fashion."

She, unlike he, couldn't hide her surprise. "Really?"

"I suppose I should've told you sooner, but I wasn't thinking properly."

She remained visibly perplexed.

"There are three stages in the courtship ritual, Rin. Grooming is a Stage Three activity; we are in Stage One."

A brilliant blush lit her face and neck.

"There's no shame in it, Rin. You made an honest mistake."

Her face lost none of its redness. "I was just listening to Jakken. He said . . . By the gods, this is embarrassing."

"I can tell."

She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. "By the gods, will I never stop embarrassing myself?"

A wry smile snuck its way onto his lips. "I should hope not," he said. "The color red seems to suit you quite well."

She chuckled easily and let her hands fall to her sides. "It seems that you are full of surprises, as well."

He gave a slight nod. "Simply let this be a lesson to you. Never listen to Jakken."

"I thought I'd learned that several years ago, but, apparently, I've forgotten."

"Yes . . ."

Tell her, the little voice said. There's one last thing you should tell her. You can't move forward till you get over the past.

"Rin, I . . . apologize if my earlier words offended you. I didn't mean to harm you or hurt your . . . feelings. Some things simply needed to come out into the open."

Rin nodded. "It's okay," she said. "I am what I am, and . . ."

He silenced her with a gaze. "I do not know what you are, yet, Rin. I only know that . . . I would rather be with you than without you."

A moment of silence passed between them. Quiet, contemplative, still and calm; the falls crashing around them, the moon bathing them in its reflected light.

Rin smiled. "I feel the same way."

He nodded his reply.

"And I promise I won't ever deliberately place myself in harm's way again."

He laughed dryly to himself, squelching the sound before it had a chance to escape. "You are lying," he said casually. "It's in your nature to put the welfare of others before yourself, and I would not change that."

She grinned sheepishly.

"I only ask that you not . . . befriend any other wounded demons you may find laying in the forest."

She nodded her agreement with a bright smile. "Never."

"Good." He rose to his feet and glanced down at the woman beside him. "May I accompany you back to camp?"

She nodded yet again and smiled. "Of course. I'm sure Jakken has all sorts of wild ideas going through his head."

"Oh?"

They made their way across the river back to the shore.

"Yes," she said. "He seems to have quite an imagination when it comes to you and . . . women."

"Oh?" He noticed a slight blush creep across her cheeks as he glanced down at her. "And exactly what has he been telling you?"

They continued walking and talking into the night.

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Author's Note: I apologize for the ridiculously long chapter, but I thought these were some fairly important things that needed to be covered before they could continue with their courtship.

I hope I didn't disappoint.

Thank you for reading, and, please, review. And a big, heaping helping of thanks for those of you who have reviewed. You make all my writing worthwhile. If I didn't personally email you with thanks, please consider yourself thanked as of right now.

theMaven :)