Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi

Chapter Two

It surprised Kagome, how little time it took for her to almost completely forget her time at the shrine. Within days of moving onto the Inu no Taishō's estate and establishing herself there as a permanent member of his forces—and even, she sometimes thought, his family—her time at the shrine, the miko she had known all her life, quickly began to feel as no more than a dream. She found herself struggling to remember even simple things, things she would have known without even thinking when she lived there. What time had the midday meal bell rung? What lesson was being taught at this time of day? Who were the miko supposed to be leaving the shrine this spring, having completed their training?

It both shocked and dismayed her, this lack of memory. She felt that she must be a horribly ungrateful girl, having so easily forgotten those who had taken her in for over a decade, trained her and loved her as the daughter they could never have. Her new guardian, Kōji-sama, tried to reassure her that this was the way of all immortals—and most yōkai, too. Time was not measured the same way to them. Passing years felt like mere minutes to those who could live for centuries, if not indefinitely. Those who were not constantly present in the lives of those immortal were quickly forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind. It sickened Kagome, and yet she had little choice in the matter.

That first day she had been brought back to the castle had done little to assuage her heavy heart, too. She had met most of Kōji-sama's guard, his upper staff, and his wife and son. The encounter with the son, Sesshōmaru, only further blackened her mood, though she really did not know what else she could have expected.

Almost off-handedly, the young yōkai prince had, on first meeting her, insulted her judgment, calling her an infant and questioning why she had forced herself to age when she clearly still had the mentality of a child. He then moved on to criticizing her parentage, stating that any human blood in her at all had to make her a worthless fighter. Still not satisfied with just that, he had then finished with a "question" of why his father had asked Kagome to help him, when she was clearly of no use to anyone—she had yet to master her powers as a miko, let alone any gifts she may have from her kami heritage.

"You must excuse him," Kōji-sama had pleaded with her after the failed meeting, flushing in fury and humiliation over his son's antics. "Honestly, I've never seen him react that way before."

"You told me he didn't like mortals," Kagome had returned, sounding much more blasé about the whole thing than she really felt. "That was just him acting as you'd said."

"No," he'd answered, confounded, shaking his head. "Well, I mean, yes, he does despise humans—for some reason or other I'll never understand. But I've never seen him react so violently against a person at first sight. Especially a potential ally, and a half-kami one, at that."

"I should think it would be obvious," his wife—and, it seemed to Kagome, bitter enemy—had said then from across the room. Kagome had started fiercely, still getting used to the superior senses of the yōkai she now lived with.

"How so?" the dog general had asked curiously.

Their marriage was somewhat confusing to Kagome. It had been arranged out of duty and desire to keep power within a family: as soon as the Inu no Taishō had taken over the Western Lands centuries ago, it had quickly become clear that he would need an heir to inherit after he passed on. Seeking a wife with as much power and affluence as himself, he had chosen his current consort, and, as luck would have it, conceived a son the first try. There had been no "second try" after that. They didn't share a room—they hardly shared a home. They regarded each other with a disdainful, reluctant respect, which seemed both conflicting and perfectly natural on them. One moment they would bicker and flirt as though they were newlyweds—the next they would say some of the most hurtful, barbed comments Kagome had ever heard.

She'd given up trying to figure out their true feelings for each other almost as soon as she met them. It just wasn't worth the headache.

"If I know my son like I believe I do," Miharu had stated, and her slow smile had dared anyone to challenge this belief, "his actions could stem from one of two reasons. He's either intimidated by her, or he's interested in her. Both of which make him feel out of control of his emotions, which everyone knows Sesshōmaru can't stand above all else."

The Inu no Taishō and she had laughed deeply at this assessment, while Kagome, not yet knowing their son as they did, was left to sit in silence. "Yes, that sounds like Sesshoumaru."

Kagome, though she still hadn't wanted to call attention to herself, couldn't help but ask, "How could he possibly by intimidated by me?"

The mistress of the household had met her gaze with piercingly golden eyes and answered, "He could be intimidated by your potential, in that he's worried he might be overshadowed by you in battle when the time comes..." She had paused then, staring at Kagome speculatively for some time before concluding finally, "But, in another way, I think he's afraid that you might become like a daughter to my husband and I. He might feel like he would be displaced in our hearts."

Kagome had gaped. "How could he have such extremely mixed feelings of me after one meeting?" She'd gestured impatiently. "A meeting, I might add, which lasted no longer than a few minutes!"

Miharu-sama's mouth had twisted into a sensuous but proud smirk. "My son may appear to be made of stone," she'd informed the young miko loftily, "but he possesses an intuition and intelligence far beyond his face. It is my belief that his depth of emotion extends so deeply that he simply cannot express it on his face, without appearing half-crazed anyway."

That had all been five days ago. Kagome was now quite happily settled into her new home, only occasionally plagued by lingering feelings of guilt from her hasty forgetfulness. She had taken it upon herself to get to know her personal guards and staff almost as soon as she had set up her room. Her favorite was Kima, a plucky young maid inuyōkai, recently mated and eager to please her new half-kami mistress. She was very happy-go-lucky, a personality that Kagome herself tended to share, and they got along famously.

In addition to ingratiating herself with the staff, Kagome had attempted to better get to know the dog general himself, and found that she liked him immensely. When not worried about his theories of impending doom or frustrated over his wife or son, she found Kōji-sama to be wildly amusing, but also steadfast and loyal, a true father figure that she'd never known before. Within days of her arrival, she found herself seeking him out for advice and opinions on many things, most of which were completely unrelated to the mission of her presence on his estate. If he noticed this change in her demeanor towards him, he either didn't care, or was pleased enough to not comment and risk it reverting back to cold respect.

Kagome was unsurprised to find that she did not immediately warm to Miharu-sama, nor the steel demonness to her, but what did shock her was the fact that their son, Sesshōmaru, seemed to be warming to her.

On that first afternoon, after she had been escorted to her private section of the castle and left free to explore, she had gone outside the enjoy the sunshine. It had been so long since she could simply stop and feel its warmth resting on her skin, and revel in the smell of the wildflowers and ocean nearby.

She had been laying about in the grass in the field behind her home for about an hour, when she had felt a looming presence close to her left. She ignored it for some time, allowing the chaotic yōki she sensed to settle, but it did not leave her. Finally, unable to relax with its continued presence, she called out, "Whoever you are, I know you're there. I have a sneaking suspicion that whatever you want from me would be easier gotten when asked of me outright."

"And what could you possibly have that I would want?" came the reply as none other than the young yōkai prince stepped out of the shadows to stand before her. Admiring him in the bright sunlight, she could admit privately to herself that the young lord cut a striking figure. He was tall and lanky for his apparent age, something she was beginning to associate with all of the more advanced yōkai, with gleaming, silver hair that fell to his shoulders, and bright, inquisitive golden eyes that analyzed everything carefully and missed nothing.

"Oh, I don't know," Kagome responded off-handedly, smiling as she returned her gray gaze to the sky. "Perhaps you have a secret affinity for feminine clothing. In that regard, I'm afraid I can only offer you the garb of a miko. I have never owned anything else."

"Hn," he offered noncommittally.

Worried that she'd somehow offended him, Kagome met his gaze once more and asked politely, "Really. Was there something you wanted?"

Sesshōmaru rolled his molten eyes haughtily. "My father has deemed it necessary for me to apologize to you," he informed her. "Ergo, I have come to offer my sincerest regret for my complete ignorance during our last conversation. I humbly beg your pardon."

Kagome wasn't able to stop herself from laughing aloud, deeply and long. Even though he had adopted a sarcastic tone for humor, the young lord was still taken aback by the intensity of the woman-child's laughter before him.

"Have I said something wrong?" he finally prompted with overdone politeness, unable to stand being laughed at any longer.

Kagome shook her head in reply, wiping away a tear of mirth as she'd replied, "Oh, no. Just the idea of you doing anything humbly—I'm sorry. There could many words to describe your actions—rude, hasty, confident, even elegant—but humble is not one of them." She blinked then, amending, "Though there really isn't much else to expect from a lord's son."

"You say that as though it is a bad thing."

Kagome shrugged carelessly, agreeing, "In most cases, it is."

"How so?"

"I just find it... disgusting that everyone—mortals and yōkai alike—can't feel comfortable in themselves unless they're a part of a caste system, and at a high rank, at that. It's as though every sentient creature decided, 'It's all right for me to not be the best, so long as I'm not the worst,' and since then, has felt the need to put others down beneath themselves. It's repugnant to me. Humans may not be able to physically compare with yōkai, but that certainly does not mean they are worth any less."

There was a long hesitation, and then came the reply, "Am I to believe you find me nothing more than a common bully?"

Kagome immediately focused on him once more, this time uncertainly. His tone had sounded affronted, and that had her worried. What if he made her leave and go back to the temple? She was just starting to like it here! But there, deep in his molten eyes, was something she'd never expected to see in the dog general's stoic son—humor. Whether she could believe it or not, it appeared the esteemed Lord Sesshoumaru was teasing her.

Recognizing this rare occasion for what it was, Kagome decided to play it cool and pretend that she hadn't noticed, to continue teasing him in return. Perhaps if she didn't make such a big production out of his letting his stone mask abate a little, he could allow it to slip completely off in the future.

"Oh, did it sound like I meant that?" she asked innocently, sitting up in a mock-abashed manner, her hand flying to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, my lord. I meant to imply that I find you totally and completely arrogant. Better than a common bully, by far."

The humor had been completely wiped from his expression, leaving only a thoroughly shocked countenance. It was clear no one had ever spoken to the young lord this way before in his life, and, by his expression, she had deciphered that he was pondering over berating her for her forwardness, or upping the ante and firing back.

But before she was able to tell which he had chosen to react with, he turned on his heel and simply walked away. There was nothing in his gait to suggest anger or indignation, but then, he was never truly relaxed either.

Well, that worked perfectly, Kagome thought to herself sarcastically. Shaking her head to try and clear away her utter confusion, Kagome pushed herself to her feet and walked around to the back of the castle to treat herself to some target practice.

And oddly enough, every day since then the dashing Lord Sesshōmaru graced Kagome with his presence at least once. They were odd, the conversations that passed between the two. Kagome was often left feeling more bewildered by the heir than she had the morning before. Sometimes he would joke with her, teasing her as though he were an old friend, but then his mask would fall back in place and he would stalk off without saying a word. She never knew how far was too far with him, for there seemed to rhyme or reason, no pattern at all to the moments he would shut down. Like she had with his mother, Kagome had simply given up trying to understand the young yōkai prince, but she couldn't deny that she found their daily meetings highly intriguing.

Especially when Sesshōmaru was having what she quickly came to dub his "good days," the days when he would turn up as playful as a boy, teasing her and making her laugh. Those moments quickly became her favorites of her entire life at the castle, but they were decidedly uncommon. More often, the young lord would merely pop into existence beside her, using his superior speed to startle her intentionally, before launching into his favorite activity of asking her nonstop questions.

Like his personality, the questions had no pattern to them. Some were about her life at the shrine, some more personal, and yet more were simply indecipherable. He wanted to know her favorite scents, her favorite sounds—things she had never really given conscious thought to. He wanted to know her thoughts on the state of things between mortals, demons, and yōkai, things he saw as extremely distinct entities. To him, mortals were like insects. They served a purpose on this earth to be sure, but they were weak, inane creatures that came as quickly as they went. Demons, to his mind, were only slightly better. They were the mindless creatures, besotted with their own power, that destroyed more than they gave. Finally, he believed yōkai were beings like himself, second on earth only to the kami.

He rarely allowed her to return his questions, but when he did, the answers provided amazing insight into the way his mind worked. He was, in the only terms she could think to describe him, a very solitary boy who thought himself a man. He thought himself above many others, not desiring company or the opinions of others, holding himself loftily apart from lesser people. Kagome privately thought he was very lonely, though he himself probably hadn't realized it. That was the reason he sought her out so often, she believed. He, though unaware of it himself, was desperate for someone to talk to.

They passed weeks and eventually months in this vein, slowly but surely coming to know the other, though Kagome would continually find herself flummoxed as the young lord did something unexpected, out of the character she was coming to know.

For example, once, when she'd bathing in the river behind her own small compound, she'd been so absorbed in her own almost ritualistic cleansing that she hadn't noticed the human man a few scores away, watching her intently. She'd only found out about this occurrence at all when she returned to her home and found Sesshōmaru there, waiting for her. He calmly informed her of what had happened and in the same casual tone, told her that he had killed the man for her honor's sake.

Somehow, she knew by his tone and expression that this act in his culture was looked upon with pleasure and pride. His eager eyes told her she was supposed to express a certain gratitude at his announcement, and acknowledge his prowess. She could do none of these things. That afternoon, she had managed only to hide her tumultuous emotions and express a rather flat thank you. From then on, she could only blush and change the subject when it arose.

It didn't bother her overmuch that her honor had been tarnished somewhat—though that was certainly a problem—it was more the fact that Sesshōmaru had killed the man. Had the human really deserved that? Certainly, she wanted some sort of justice for what had been done to her, but to end someone's life over peeping at her? It seemed a little extreme.

Sesshōmaru, at first, had tried to comfort her in the only way he knew how as of yet—to ridicule her in the gentle manner humans called "teasing." It didn't work. She'd only grown morose and even sullen at the mention of her "fall from purity." Then, finding that his methods weren't aiding him in their usual way, he resorted to truly ridiculing her. It was her miko training, he declared. She had been taught to value each life as though it were one of someone precious to her and—never minding the hypocrisy of that statement in regards to demons and yōkai—the death of that man weighed on her conscious as heavily as if she had been the one to strike him down.

It was ludicrous, he'd told her. Repeatedly. Did it work? Of course not. Sesshōmaru had never met a more stubborn, irritating, bewitching person and he told her so (sans the bewitching part, of course, he couldn't have her getting a bigger head than she already had). At this, the miko had just got annoyed. How dare he insult her! At least she had enough morality and decency in her to mourn the loss of a life! What kind of monster killed repeatedly without any sign of remorse or guilt?

Answering in the most formal third-person speech he could think of, he'd answered, "This Sesshōmaru." He'd gone on to add, "You do realize, of course, that when you enlisted your services in my father's upcoming campaign you promised to be the cause of the death of many, perhaps countless, others?"

She'd grumbled about that one for days, but could make no answer.

Even after all this, she could make neither heads nor tails of the man. Did he like her or didn't he? Was he simply attempting to befriend her for the sake of peace in his house, or out of an unconscious loneliness, or even for his own enjoyment? His parents didn't have the answers she searched for, either. When she spoke of the Lord Sesshōmaru with his father, the Inu no Taishō could only shrug and shake his head. He had never completely understood his son, he said, for his son had always been reserved. Miharu-sama, who knew her son only slightly better, could only guess at his behavior. She still held firm to the belief that her son was either intrigued by Kagome, or he was trying to root out his competition for parental favors.

Finally, Kagome simply decided to confront him about it. She was getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game they played day after day, baiting each other only to walk away when the questions got too intense.

Therefore, the next afternoon found her swinging her feet over her porch, once more enjoying the sun's warmth, when a shadow raced across the sky. Only seconds later, Sesshoumaru materialized by her side—sitting, which just showed how immense his change in attitude was towards her since that first fateful meeting. She glanced over at him briefly.

"Hello," Kagome greeted dully, and instantly the heir was on alert.

"What is it?" he asked curiously, but not overly concerned. As though whatever was bothering her had the potential to be interesting, but not enough to bother to ask after it more than once.

Kagome sighed, staring for a few more moments at the ground before meeting his eyes. She had to stress upon sincerity, and he seemed more comfortable with her when he had a clear view of her eyes.

"Why do you visit me like this every day?" Kagome asked bluntly.

For a brief moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer her. His left eyebrow went up skeptically, but he said nothing for a long time. Eventually, he blinked and said slowly, as though tasting each word that came out, "Finally, you confront your problem. I was wondering when that would happen."

"Excuse me?"

The young lord abandoned her gaze, staring out over the fields. He shrugged. "I've noticed in the last few weeks that you tend to ignore anything that really bothers you. The war, for instance. You won't acknowledge that you will be responsible for the death of many creatures, yet you criticize me for weeks for defending you from a crass voyeur. You run from your problems. So I decided to see how long it would take for you to ask me face-to-face what so obviously piqued your curiosity."

Kagome's face flushed in her anger. "So this was a test?" she demanded.

Sesshōmaru met her eyes with a calm indifference to her blatant indignation. "Be not a fool. I've no such time to waste. I come to see you because I wish to. That is all you need know for the time being. It only became a test of your character in the last few days."

Kagome sucked in a breath that sounded more like a growl. "Ooh, you smug bastard! How dare you sit there and harp about my personality, as though you're the epitome of perfection!"

He cut her off before she could go any further, his tone as emotionless as ever. "Kagome-san, if there is anyone on this Earth that could make me believe I wasn't worth a damn, it's you. Trust me."

As though he had slapped her across the face, Kagome's anger deflated into stunned silence. When she regained control of herself, she turned to face him and whispered, "What do you mean?"

But his cold mask had fallen back into place, and he had risen to his feet. He cleared his throat and, not even acknowledging her question, said in a mechanically polite voice, "I meant only to illustrate to your one of your few faults. I know from personal experience that to have one merely sit and criticize you makes you very unlikely to take that person's advice to heart. I thought that if your mistake was pointed out to you as you did it, you would be more receptive to the advice. Forgive me if I insulted you."

Somehow, Kagome only believed a part of his confession—and it was the obvious part, the one of him not taking criticism well. She knew that he was being sincere when he told her that he had merely wished to help her to grow and learn mentally, that he was trying to show her how to behave more like someone of her station, but she was still insulted that he felt the need to do so in the first place.

...Even if running away from problems was a grotesque character flaw.

When she had finally sorted through her feelings enough to know that she wasn't angry with him, she also realized that he really had let her into his life and perhaps his heart more than she had noticed—for why would he take the time to help her overcome her flaws if he didn't care?

But by the time she had come to this conclusion, he was gone.