Her hands were masterpieces to behold.
They were delicate, gentle in touch and providing comfort in the simplest of caresses. With a brush of her fingers, tears were wiped away, lives were mended, and pulses would quicken. He had witnessed it time and again — when Rin or village children would cry, when she would heal the sick, and when the (lowly) human men would gaze at her in longing.
Her hands were powerful.
There was no one alive — human and demon alike — that didn’t know of her strength and skill. Years of work, years of fighting had hardened her hands and strengthened them. It spoke of her fearlessness and her dedication — to protect, to do what was right. A bow, no matter its quality, turned into the deadliest of weapons in her hands. An enemy wouldn’t stand a chance against her.
Even he, the great Lord of the Western Lands, found it hard to stand against her.
For different reasons entirely.
(Not that he would ever admit them aloud.)
“Lord Sesshoumaru, look! Lady Kikyo taught me how to make this!”
At the call of his name, he turned to look at Rin. A warm fondness filled him at seeing her bright smile, at the way she bounced in excitement and her eyes sparkled. Not a moment later, she presented him what she held in her hands: a crown of yellow flowers.
“Isn’t it beautiful? Lady Kikyo said she used to make them for her sister all the time when they were smaller,” Rin hummed, staring at him expectedly.
Although his answer had been short, it seemed to be enough for the young girl as her smile somehow managed to grow. Truly, the sun couldn’t compare to the shine and warmth of her smile in that moment.
“Oh, oh! I can give it to A-Un to wear! I’ll make another one with Lady Kikyo! So they each have one!” Rin studied the little crown, practically bouncing again before stopping, looking up at him again. “Is that alright, Lord Sesshoumaru?”
His answer was a simple nod, a whisper of a smile tugging at his mouth. All at once, Rin threw herself at him, giving him a tight one-armed hug (as to not crush or ruin the crown he supposes), before running off, a bounce in her stride and laughter in the air. It stunned him momentarily, still so unused to the (now frequent) displays of affection the young child would give him.
She had gotten bolder, more sure of herself. There were still traces of the frightened child that would hide behind his leg every once in a while, but it was different now. Now, with the added help of Kikyo and her daily lessons, she was blooming into a surer Rin. And if the demon lord was honest, it was endearing.
Kikyo was a good influence on her.