Step. Thrust. Block. Turn.
Step. Thrust. Block. Turn.
Move faster. Jump higher. Think ahead. Be smarter. No mercy.
Step. Thrust. Block. Turn.
His life held a constant rhythm.
Step. Thrust. Block. Turn.
Feet knew where to go. Eyes knew where to look. Sword knew where to land.
Until her.
He knew somewhere in his mind that his lessons were there. How did it go again? Block. Turn. Step. Thrust. No - it's Turn. Thrust. Step. Thrust. Block. No, Step -
Dammit.
Two hundred and fifty three years worth of his lessons were gone in a single touch of her lips.
His eyes furrowed at the wisp of a girl tripping into his life, insistent on lugging her yellow backpack of homework, as she called it.
'What did you learn?' he asked, hopeful her books may unlock his forgotten knowledge.
She proceeded to talk of tangents. Equations. Proofs. Theorems. Literature. Structure.
He sighed. Her books were useless, of course. He grew tired of listening.
Thrust, block, step . . kick?
She looked over at him with deep blue eyes, a smile spreading across her face. 'You look like you've forgotten something, Sesshoumaru,' she says.
Perhaps he has, shoulders sagging.
His eyes trail up her long legs, over her full breasts, finding pink lips. Her scent soothes his mind.
Long legs. Full breasts. Pink lips. Soft scent.
Perhaps . . . he has not forgotten anything at all . . .
Long legs. Full breasts. Pink lips. Soft scent.
Long legs. Full breasts. Pink lips. Soft scent.
His feet found a new place to go. Straight at her soft scent.
His hands found a new place to be. Caressing her full breasts.
His eyes found a new place to look. Her full pink lips.
His sword knew where to land. Between her long legs.
His life found its rhythm again.
Long legs. Full breasts. Pink lips. Soft scent.
Tongues meeting. Clothes ripping. Hard thrusting. Lights flashing.
Long legs. Full breasts. Pink lips. Soft scent.