Prompts: Discord Drabble Night August, 2021
Inspiration: "Fix You" by Coldplay
Normally rain would be a good sign. A good omen on days of celebration.
Today it was just an inconvenience.
Sesshoumaru leaned back against the wall of the cave, eyes closed as he listened to the storm rage outside.
It drowned out his senses, effectively muting the world past the opening of his current abode.
He would wait until the skies cleared before returning to his pack, not letting them go too long without his supervision and protection, regardless of Jaken’s squawks. It was Rin’s worry-filled gaze whenever he returned soaked to the bone that he was trying to avoid.
As was tradition.
The one thing he could always count on was the miko’s ability to intrude on his solitude.
She stumbled into the cave, her curses about the weather echoing off the walls. She wrung out her hair, teeth chattering as she moved deeper into the cave.
Closer to him.
“Guess we both got caught.”
“Do you believe in fate, Sesshoumaru?”
“Fate is for those too weak to make a path for themselves.”
She grinned and he found himself entranced by it.
“Maybe, but how else would you explain us ending up in the same place at the same time?”
She had the audacity to laugh.
“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad! I don’t make a habit of annoying you on purpose like your brother.”
She was still grinning at him, and a slight uneasiness formed in his chest.
Why did this creature, this human female, never smell of fear around him? Her aura was potent, encasing him in the vibrancy of her emotions, but fear was not one of them.
He found it both infuriating and alluring.
Perhaps Rin had been right. Perhaps the miko was special.
Someone to be favoured.
She settled down beside him, her arm brushing against the shadow of his as she gazed towards the entrance. “Looks like we might be here a while.”
“I don’t suppose you know how to make a fire? It was never one of my strong points.”
Sesshoumaru looked down at her, noticing the trembling of her shoulders, the paleness of her skin.
The pretense faltered.
He shrugged his pelt off his shoulder and held it out to her, watching the trepidation in her eyes turn to gratitude before she accepted the gesture.
She wrapped it around her body, sighing in relief, and he noticed how mokomoko curled protectively around her small frame.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Would you hold your tongue if I said no?”
The pale twilight revealed the mirth on her face. “Probably not.”
“Then why ask in the first place?”
“As a sign of respect.”
A slender eyebrow raised at that. How interesting, given their history.
She shifted her position, sitting on her heels as small hands reached out, fingers brushing against what remained of his missing arm, a dark blush spilling onto her cheeks.
Her voice was soft, almost lost under the roar of the deluge a few feet from them.
“I could fix this. Would you accept help from me?”
The notion had merit.
He’d heard rumours of those blessed with untold power gaining the ability to heal quicker than even youkai of his standing.
But he’d never seen the legend in action before.
She looked at him with those soulful blue eyes.
She had never harmed him before, would that change now, when she was purposefully trying to heal? To return to him what had been stolen?
A lesser being would have already found death at the end of his claws, and yet he felt no compulsion with her.
The truth escaped his lips before the thought fully formed in his mind.
“You are the only one I would accept it from.”
He appreciated how carefully she rolled up the sleeve of his kimono. She was mindful of his pride, revealing his severed flesh without judgement marring her features.
He felt humbled.
Her fingers traced the scars and Sesshoumaru felt whispers of electricity tease his skin.
She slid his pelt off her shoulders for better access, the dampened fur wrapping itself around her waist as she clasped his arm with both hands, fierce determination causing her eyes to shift from indigo to bright cerulean.
Her hands were warm, then scalding, but there was no pain, just the feel of power spreading from her fingers to where his should have been.
Youkai were fast healers, but full regeneration of limbs was a myth.
And yet this tiny human was accomplishing the impossible.
His missing limb was nothing but a glimmer at first, but the glow of her reiki slowly increased, illuminating the entire cave as her power flowed through him.
Where had she learned to control it like this? To create such calculated purpose?
Sesshoumaru watched in wonder as bone and muscle were reformed, inch by inch, until even his missing stripes were once again whole.
She let out a ragged breath, her heat beating loudly in his ears before a smile broke out onto her face, shining brighter than the power emanating from her hands.
He extended his arm between them, flexing his fingers to affirm he wasn’t hallucinating.
How long had it been since he’d had use of both arms? Since he’d sunk both sets of claws into a foe?
His thoughts were interrupted as she grabbed his wrist, turning it over in her hands, inspecting her work as her thumbs traced magenta stripes.
“I’m glad it worked.”
“Why had you never attempted this feat before?”
One shoulder lifted in a carefree shrug as the blush returned to her cheeks.
“You’ve never been around long enough for me to ask.”
Perhaps he should give more credence to her earlier talk of coincidence and fate.
Her fingers still lingered on his, that strange electricity returning before she suddenly remembered her place and released him.
She buried her face in his pelt, pulling it back up around her shoulders, taking a deep breath and then peeking at him.
“Are you happy?”
Happiness was a foreign concept—It didn’t bring power or prestige—though he supposed he was grateful for the return of his arm.
That entrancing smile was back, and he wondered if there were other parts of the miko he was not privy to.
Mokomoko tightened around the woman’s body, and she started to doze, her body exhausted and settling against his.
And he found himself allowing it.
Consequences be damned.