“…And one cannot speak highly enough of Kimi-sama’s shrewd wit and keen mind for strategy!”

Sesshoumaru’s claws bit into Ah-Un’s reins. Perhaps bringing Jakken along with him had been a mistake.

Leaving the company of humans for a few days seemed to have invigorated the despondent imp. As tedious as his prolonged suffering silence had been to endure, this unending diatribe of his was fast becoming just as wearisome. For the better part of an hour, Jakken had been extolling the virtues of Touga’s first wife at ponderous length. As proud as he was of his lineage and as much as he respected his mother, even for Sesshoumaru this excessive praise was beginning to grate.

“It is said that none could best the clever demon Satomaru at shougi, yet your noble mother challenged him and defeated him two games out of three–and this was long before the drop rule was in play, when the game was still in its purest form. Although, the addition of the rule does lend some much-needed complexity…” At the irritated flare of Sesshoumaru’s youki, Jakken hurried on, “A-at any rate, so impressed was Satomaru by Kimi-sama’s display of skill that he gave her his coveted spyglass in tribute.”

Sesshoumaru grit his fangs. “Satomaru was a notorious trickster. After Haha-ue defeated him in the first game, he resorted to cheating in the second, and so she broke his jaw and took his spyglass for the insult.”

“Ah…” the imp flustered. “Yet still, milord–only a demoness of great power and poise could have done as such! It is also said–”

“Cease your rambling, inaccurate stories, Jakken,” Sesshoumaru said shortly, skewering the imp with a backward glance. “What is it that you truly wish to say?”

Jakken cowered. “N-nothing, milord.” As the seconds ticked by, his abashed expression became cagey once more. “Kimi-sama is a daiyoukai of much renown. I merely wished to highlight her exceptional qualities as the true and rightful companion of your late lord father…”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed, his voice darkening. “Speak plainly, Jakken, or not at all—though you should choose your next words carefully if you do.”

At the threat in his master’s tone, the imp opted wisely for silence. As the midday sun loomed high overhead, the fiery mountain home of Toutousai rose before them at last. Touching down before the giant skull dwelling, Sesshoumaru dismounted onto the volcanic ground and crossed through the fanged threshold.

“Oh ho, if it isn’t the newly minted Inu no Taishou,” the old smith greeted with his usual impudence, not even bothering to look up from his anvil as he continued to hammer away at what appeared to be a helmet for his ox. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

“Jakken,” Sesshoumaru ordered stonily, ignoring the gibe.

Untying a satchel strung through Ah-Un’s saddle, the imp scurried forward, upending the contents at Toutousai’s feet. Broken plates of armor clattered to the bone floor, the old smith’s bulbous eyes welling in despair at the sight.

“Augh!” he groaned, his gaze swiveling accusingly to Sesshoumaru. “You’ve managed to destroy my hard work already?”

“Clearly, you should work harder.” Flicking a stray lock of hair over his shoulder, the daiyoukai turned away. “You have two days to repair the armor.”

“Two days?” the smith cried.

Menacingly, Sesshoumaru glared back at him. “Is that a problem?”

Toutousai flinched, then bristled, crossing his bony arms over his chest. “It’s an imposition, that’s what it is. I’m already in the middle of important work.”

The daiyoukai’s disdainful gaze flicked between the cow armor at the forge and the three-eyed creature itself, who lowed cautiously at him from its bed of straw. “I think not.” Coolly, he looked to Jakken. “Keep him on task until I return.”

Clutching the nintoujou to his chest, the imp shifted anxiously in place. “Y-yes, milord.”

The sound of Toutousai’s disgruntled muttering followed Sesshoumaru out of the skull. Stepping past Ah-Un, who was lapping at a bubbling pit of lava as if it were a pool of water, he summoned a cloud of youki beneath his feet and set off for the west.

His lands alone, it seemed, remained untouched by Naraku’s scourge. As he patrolled his territories, the fear and awe of those who dwelt within his domain was palpable. With no battles to fight and no uprisings to suppress, Sesshoumaru found himself becoming increasingly bored.

Kagome was never far from his mind, but as the dull hours passed, his thoughts turned to her all the more. Mundane as he found his surroundings and his subjects to be, thinking of how she would react to them was an amusing prospect. No doubt she would respond with a variety of strange expressions and attempt to embroil them both in ‘causes’ which were none of their concern.

She was so passionate and gregarious, so easily carried away by her sympathies and sheer enthusiasm. He would always have to be a tempering influence on her, but rather than burdened at the idea of watching over her, he found himself relishing it.

As night fell on the first day of his absence from her, Sesshoumaru’s musings darkened in turn. He remembered the flash of disappointment in her eyes as he had left her to heal, and the thought of her pining for his touch as she lay cold and alone in her hovel pleased him greatly.

Let her pine for him. Let her languish for him. Let her hunger for him—

As he hungered for her.

He imagined how she would melt in his mouth at that first taste, how thoroughly he would stretch the limits of her own. He could see those supple pink lips straining open around him, as her body had strained and opened for him that night. He looked forward to putting her properly through the paces the next time he took her, and it was this desire alone which stilled the course of his clenched fist.

He would save every ounce of his lust for her. And when he returned to her in two days’ time, she would slake him of it all.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi