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I groaned into my futon. The sun was streaming through the windows.
It’s my day off.
I should be sleeping.
I pulled on a baggy t-shirt that Kagome insisted was the ‘bestest most comfiest thing among humankind in her time’. I cannot deny that it is adequately soft.
My tea took an eon to brew. I wonder if Kagome will be back today. She tells excessively detailed stories about the workings of the modern era, and occasionally offers unsolicited opinions on the color of my socks.
The tea is finally done. I sit on the engawa and wait for it to cool. It wouldn’t hurt me to drink it scalding, but rather out of preference I wait… the flavor is softer as it cools.
The grass beyond the engawa is green. Rin and Jaken are playing chase already, although I don’t think the kappa is ever as into the game as she is. Their logic eludes me.
Taking a comb to my hair I get to work. The only work I’m wont to do on a day off…
“Lord Sesshomaru!” Jaken trilled. “Lord Sesshomaru! You must tell Rin to—AAAH!!”
I close my eyes. Rin can handle herself. Jaken…? I wouldn’t put money on a victory at his hands.
The knots are few, and I attempt to decide whether to braid it…and decide not. It is, after all, my day off.
The shoji screen slides open, revealing Kagome. Her smile lights up the room even more than the daffodils Rin has picked for me. They stand in a vase on the low table.
“Have you been waiting long?” Kagome asks.
“It’s of no consequence.” I sigh, waving a hand to her floor cushion and pouring her a cup of tea. “When did you return?”
“Just now,” she chirped, voice entirely too chipper for the time of day. “I wanted to make sure this didn’t melt, so I brought it straight here.”
She hands me a frozen treat. It is green and smells like tea. I raise an eyebrow in question.
“It’s a matcha popsicle! I thought since you like tea, you might like this, too.”
I munch in silence. The flavor isn’t bad, but the cold bites as if Winter itself took hold in my mouth. Kagome settles next to me, stealing glances.
“What is it, miko?” I grumble, fast approaching the end of the treat.
“Is it good?” her blue eyes catch my attention, though it is exceedingly rare for them to not these days.
“Hn.”
“Can I… can I try?” she stammers. She’s so cute when she’s nervous. But, too late, I have finished it.
“Yes.”
“But you finished it!”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, catching her off guard. So trusting and so easy to startle all at once. I press our lips together, feeling her tongue flick about. Her soft moan warms me, and I pull away with a smirk.
“That was delicious…” she murmurs. “May I have some more?”
How could I refuse?