"Sesshomaru..." The girl's emerald eyes filled with disbelieving joy.
"Yes." The silver-haired dog demon's expression softened. "It's all right now."
Amid the ancient tomb shattered by the Azure Dragon Blast, the girl who had slept for fifty years finally opened her eyes and threw herself into the embrace she had awaited for so long. Cool and warm, familiar yet strange-this was the demon she cherished so deeply.
"Sesshomaru..." She wanted only to call his name again and again, to assure herself this was no dream.
Her pale hand rose to Sesshomaru's still-wounded face. Even with a demon's powerful ability to heal, the wounds left by Ame-no-Wakahiko's arrows had yet to close. They bore the traces of divine power.
"Yes." The silver-haired dog demon answered her gently, without a trace of impatience.
Through their decades apart, she had not been the only one longing. Their yearning for each other had swelled into a river.
As the dog demon lowered his head, the girl tilted her face up.
The moment their lips met, each saw only the other.
It was a fleeting kiss, ending almost as soon as their lips touched.
Only the faint flush at the tips of her ears betrayed that moment of irresistible feeling.
Her slender, pale fingers brushed the wound on his face, which was still seeping blood. The God Clan's power within it was instantly purified, and the small wound slowly healed. Yet the scent of blood lingered. Through his clothes, she faintly felt a dampness-the wound at Sesshomaru's waist was still bleeding, though his dark clothing concealed it.
Realizing he had more than one injury, she lowered her head and soon found the deep wound. An arrow wound. A scar she had once known all too well. She laid both hands over it through his clothes,