The first time Kagome paid attention – seriously paid attention – to Sesshōmaru-sama after their first meeting was when he rescued her from Mukotsu. It just seemed so… out of character for the stoic daiyōkai. So unusual. Therefore, she noticed. She saw. His façade might have been perfect, outwardly, but with Sesshōmaru-sama appearance was not everything. She could feel his rage and frustration in his unsettled yōki – how it lifted his silver hair from being so intensely agitated. She could see in those usually closed off golden eyes – burning with anger, swirling with self-recrimination (and why would he feel guilty?), and somehow laced with a promise to protect.

She didn't know what plain, clumsy, useless Higurashi Kagome had done to earn his attention, but it was on her again – this time, however, without that sense of impending doom that had pervaded their first encounter. Before Kagome could thank him for his rescue, he told her, "Never again."

The words were soft, but forceful, and she heard the promise in them. He might not always be able to protect her, but he would try his best, for reasons unknown to her. She protested, "I'm not worth-" and he shut her up, with yet another, "Never again!"

He'd growled that one, and somehow Kagome instinctively knew this was not the time to fight, so she capitulated, "If Sesshōmaru-sama insists, then it will be so."

Somehow her acceptance of – and belief in – his promise had calmed him right down. He gave her a slow blink of acceptance before picking her up and departing from the hut they were in. She was deposited with the rest of the group, and never said a word to them about what she had noticed, what she had seen, or the promise he had given her. It didn't feel right, exposing him in such a way. So she wouldn't do it.


Her next rescue by him had been an embarrassingly short time later – and had made it clear that he was—somehow without Inuyasha noticing – shadowing her. All she remembered was being knocked out by poison (what was it with the Shichinintai and poisoning her?) and then waking up to searing heat, bright orange flames, and choking smoke. He had been there, but she had stopped worrying about herself the moment he appeared, instead giving him a pleading, "Please!" and beckoning to her friends. He had rushed them out, two at a time, and then grabbed her and zoomed out of the burning building, noticeably not taking her to where her friends were.

As she recovered in his arms, taking deep, cleansing breaths of the fresh, untainted air around him, she looked up into his eyes, and knew – again, just instinctively – that asking him to take her to her friends would not be taken well. He had promised to protect her; her supposed other protector had instead endangered her, and her friends had been of no help in protecting her. He would not release her to them – yet. His eyes were not filled with self-recrimination this time, but instead with a simmering relief, of course also accompanied by unadulterated rage and upset. Those golden orbs were suddenly intensely readable to her, and she paid attention to his yōki again, watching his silver locks once more as they swirled around, at first in agitation and anger, before slowing down to contentment and a lazy sense of being at ease.

Since when was he so open – or was he even open at all? Maybe it was only towards her.

Kagome did not protest as he lowered his face to her hair and inhaled deeply, before moving to her shoulder and – if she was reading his actions right – taking in her scent from there. Confirming that I am safe. That I am here.

She didn't know why it mattered so much – to either her or to him – that she was still okay, but somehow it did, and she was trusting her instincts around the powerful daiyōkai that clearly meant her no harm.

They stayed like that for an hour before she heard her friends calling out to her and he – clearly reluctantly – nodded towards her, standing up, setting her down gently, and – of all the weird, but somehow perfectly suitable things he could have done – licking her forehead. Then he left in a swirl of white silk, and she stayed where she was, waiting for her group to find her.

What was her life becoming?


He found her next inside of Mt. Hakurei, this time just a short meeting. He whispered, "It is a trap."

She smiled up at him reassuringly, shouldering her bow and quiver more firmly. "We know. I know. I've been practising lately."

He gave her a curt nod – gold shimmering with approval and silver swirling with confidence – licked her forehead again, and left.

It warmed her heart that he trusted her to take care of this on her own, despite having to rescue her twice previously.

Although she still didn't know what the licking was about.


The next time Myōga visited, she quietly asked him to walk with her, and – once they were away from the camp – asked him, "What do forehead licks mean in inu yōkai culture, Myōga?"

He paused, before delicately asking, "Has… Has Inuyasha-sama done that to you, Kagome-sama?"

She vaguely shook her head, "No, not Inuyasha. I doubt he'd ever do that to me even if he knew what it meant, which he probably doesn't. His loyalty lies with Kikyō, and always will."

There was another pause, before the flea yōkai smugly said, "I thought as much. Who would have thought."

She giggled, and smiled, "Well, if I hadn't been kidnapped and drugged he might never have done it. Whatever it means, I know it's important, I know it is probably some sort of proclamation, and that if I hadn't been in so much danger, it probably never would have happened. And," she said pointedly, "you're prevaricating."

He laughed wryly at that. "It is a claim, Kagome-sama. A promise, too. Pack. Protection. Devotion."

She mulled it over slowly, and then asked, "I wonder what changed, then? He tried to kill me twice upon meeting me, and I'm just a ningen."

Myōga slyly asked, "Well you are hardly a normal ningen, are you? Powerful, determined, loyal – inu admire that trait more than anything else – and kind to ningen and yōkai alike. You can feel yōki now – does he mean you any harm any more?"

Kagome shook her head. "Oh, definitely not. The gold and silver just give it away. He's become almost absurdly easy to read – to me at least, anyhow."

The flea yōkai cleared his throat, "How many times?"

She hummed, "Twice. It felt… right. I didn't protest. And before you can ask, I won't protest. Whatever the nature of his claim, he is far too honourable to treat me like either Inuyasha or Kōga do. He… respects me. The last time, after I told him I could take care of myself, he left."

Myōga seemed genuinely startled by that, "He what? If that is truly the case, then… you are indeed right. He is treating you as an equal. How unusual."

The miko smiled again. "Indeed. It's rather nice. I'm not sure I'm ready to know his full intentions yet, but I'm definitely open to them."

He asked solemnly, "And what will you do about Inuyasha-sama? He will be most displeased."

Kagome scoffed, "Sit him three metres into the earth. He already made his choice, and it wasn't me. He lost his chance and has no right to complain about it."

There was silence then, for a few moments, and she took it as her cue to go back to camp, content with what she had learned and content to let things progress as they would.


Kagome knew her friends were desperately curious now, as this last time, ningen bandits captured them, as well as an incarnation of Naraku's, some insane infant with psychic abilities. He certainly tried his hardest to darken and taint her, but Kagome was done with the whole damn Kikyō mess now, and her faith in Sesshōmaru-sama was supreme. She knew that if Inuyasha wasn't prompt enough, he would take care of the problem himself.

Sure enough, he'd gotten them all out, killed all of the bandits, and – even though the infant had gotten away somehow in all the clamour – seemed quite smugly proud of Kagome when she told him of what transpired. Then he licked her forehead – in front of Sango-chan, Miroku-sama, and Kirara – and swept away once more. Kagome hadn't really been in much danger this time, either physically or mentally, so she knew he was content enough that he had rescued her – his silken silver strands were straight and still, and his golden gaze had been completely absent of anger or upset.

The questions had to wait to be answered, though, because they all had to – they had agreed – explain why they weren't still captured. To her surprise, Miroku-sama had pulled a set of lock picks out of nowhere and spun a story about how he had rescued them all that was so absurd that Kagome almost ruined the whole thing by snorting rudely. The hanyō bought it, though, most importantly, and led them to their camp for the night.


Her friends corner her on the way to her bath several weeks later, accompanied by Shippō – undoubtedly because he can sniff out a lie, her tachi are no fools; they know that if it matters enough she will lie to keep someone else's secrets – and they whisk her away into the forest. She goes along with them rather amusedly, especially because neither monk nor kitsune notice the pale spectre flitting alongside them, shadowing their every step. Kagome has had several meetings with Sesshōmaru – he recently demanded she drop the -sama – since the incident with the bandits, clandestine meetings and soft talks in the forest before she returned back to camp from her solo baths. It didn't matter that he was practically stalking her every move – she was instead reassured by it. Devotion and protection, indeed. He never left her alone, and the rest of his pack was never far away.

Correction, the rest of our pack. She blushes as she thinks that, before banishing the thought. She recently found out the nature of the claim, and – after he assured her that it did not need to be immediately cemented – blushingly agreed to be his mate. She still didn't know what he saw in her, but it was enough to stir his emotions, burning in his golden eyes and swirling around his silver hair, and that was enough, for her. Actions speak louder than words to her by now, and his actions had been blatantly clear ever since Mukotsu happened to her. Besides, they have a surprising amount of things in common, as she has learned during their talks. Inuyasha had never really had anything in common with Kagome. She has a lot more faith that things will work out with Sesshōmaru than she ever had with Inuyasha.

When they finally settle down in a very small clearing, she is hit by a barrage of questions all at once and she holds her hands out, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look, how about I just explain it to you and then you ask what needs clarified?"

They agree to that, and so she explains as much as she can without giving his heart away. Pack, protection, respect. All are told glibly and honestly, and when she admits that she doesn't know what changed his mind or why he would ever be interested in her in any way, they all look at each other, before Shippō perceptively quips, "Mama can change anyone, even the most immovable."

She blushes and demurs, and they understand her predicament and lead her back to the onsen, before departing back to camp. As she is setting up her things, Sesshōmaru ghosts out from the trees and comments, "You did not tell them everything, but you did not lie once."

He is intrigued, and she smiles softly, "They deserve the truth, and I try not to lie unless it is absolutely necessary. I hate lying. But – and this is important – your heart is mine to protect, and they do not need to know what lies beneath. That is for pack alone."

He stalks over to her, gently pulls her close to him, tilts her head up, and – for the first time – kisses her. It sears her body and her ki, dizzying her before he breaks away, his eyes bleeding slightly crimson as he huskily growls, "You are more than worthy. Never again doubt that."

Then he is off again, and she dazedly bathes herself, the smile never leaving her face.

He thinks I am worthy. That is more than enough.


The next time the group meets up with Sesshōmaru – as opposed to him meeting with her, which has been happening more frequently – he is battling Magatsuhi, and Kagome has never in her life been more proud as his yōki condenses, promptly regenerates his arm (and gives him an absolutely magnificent blade), and he manages to drive the other yōkai off.

As the silver settles and the gold burns with satisfaction, he proposes an alliance, which is probably more for his sake than for the sake of beating Naraku. He admitted the last time they met that short meetings were not enough for him any more, and neither is watching from the sidelines. Luckily, Inuyasha agrees, and their groups join up.

Kagome subtly, but immediately, gravitates towards his pack with Shippō, spending more time with them – getting to know, learning to love, assuming her place. Sango and Miroku and Kirara clearly know what is going on, and by the time Inuyasha figures it out, it is far too late for him to try to do anything about. He is obviously displeased, but dares not make a fuss because Kagome's doing so has cemented the alliance into something firm rather than something tenuous. Protesting, at this point, would just make her actually leave. She has grown beyond tired of his assumptions, attitude, and abandonment. And since Sesshōmaru actually tolerates the rest of his group, doing so might mean them leaving as well, which Inuyasha will not risk.

She is grateful there is no confrontation, and they travel towards the end.


Naraku is gone. So is the Shikon. The entire experience is surreal, especially as – once she made her wish – the jewel decided to sink back into her instead of completely disappearing like she wanted it to. Kagome takes it in stride though, as they all wearily celebrate their victory.

Late that night, Sesshōmaru whisks her away when most everyone else is asleep, and as he settles her comfortably into his lap, she relaxes against him, his yōki caressing her as his arms surround her. They are there for some time before he deigns to speak, and all he says is one forceful, passionate word. "Mine."

She looks up, contemplative cerulean meeting determined gold as she considers this. He hasn't called her that outright yet before – as if he was making sure not to overstep some unseen boundary. The proclamation warms her heart, and she smiles widely, boldly lifting her hands up and allowing her fingers to trace his crimson stripes, before they make their way into sinfully soft silver and she scratches his scalp, which earns her a soft, sensual rumble. "Yours," she confirms, before tightening her fingers in his hair and stating, every single bit as determined and forceful as his word had been, "Mine."

He growls again, leaning down to kiss her senseless, burning her alive with it, before whispering against her lips, "Yours. Always."

She smiles and deepens the kiss. Tomorrow can wait – they have forever, after all.