How To Escape An Arranged Mating Chapter 4: Introductions, an inuyasha fanfic

A/N: So I was checking out this story's status on this site, and the traffic was interesting. Chapter 2 had 90 visitors, and chapter three had over 150. I sat here scratching my head for a minute, wondering how that made sense, then recalled the content of the last chapter. Lots of re-visits. You guys make me smile, that's all I have to say on that note, haha! XD

Also, just to protect myself, this story's rating has (thanks to this chapter; I refuse to accept that the last chapter's content breached T considering high school AND junior high school students these days) hopped up from T to M.

Personally, I was raised as an open minded child who had things pointed out and described to her in a good/understanding light, like breast feeding and public groping, as opposed to having my head turned in the other direction (and no, exposing children has no negative results, I'm 24 and have still not had any of the good stuff). HOWEVER, there are some people who may go "CENSOR!" at some content and risk reporting and getting my story deleted. Anal buggers... And as far as 'T: anything that you can post on public TV' goes, I've seen bits of True Blood, and that particular scene on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I must admit that in that light the limitation is rather... vague.

So, yeah, an author's note to possibly save my butt, and anyone's preciously untainted mind. Please, to anyone who is 'mature', read and enjoy the story. :) And give me feedback! I'll reply to it if it's over two sentences long. :D

Step 4 – Introductions

It is finally time to make the big move. By now, you and your lover are ready and the stage is properly prepared, so loop arms and walk out into the spotlight. For the first few days things will be hectic – you will both be pestered with questions, accusations, demands and insults – but you and your lover can always find strength in one another. Do not try and dominate the stage, but share it, and improve your act as you go. You have no script to go off of, so learn one another well and be able to improvise in unison.

WARNING: Make sure to keep an eye on your lover. Your species may have certain codes of honor, but when you get down to it a female will always act like a female.

Kagome was nervous, sitting with only the top of her head exposed, keeping a pointed stare fixed at Sesshōmaru who was standing with his back to her. "This is humiliating. He could have left and let me have some more privacy..." With a bubble causing groan she slipped out of the hot spring with splashes of water, dripping wet, and dried off with the interior of her hakama, trying to keep herself covered while doing so. The daiyōkai never looked back, but despite his limited respect she hurriedly snatched up the hadajuban and its sash, shaking it out of its fold. Looking at it for the first time unfolded, her eyes widened. The fabric was practically see through!

"Are you almost finished?"

"I am not wearing just this!" she yipped, throwing the sheer fabric over herself. Even with the sun setting on their last day to practice, she could see the color of her nipples through the fabric! "Hand me the next layer."

"I will have to make alterations to your clothing regardless."

"Just give me the damned juban!"

Carelessly, he kicked the box toward her with his heel, sending it skidding and jostling until it stopped precisely at her feet. "He has no right to be that cool." Muttering to herself, she grabbed the nagajuban while holding an arm over her chest, casting several glances up to make sure he would not look. She barely threw it on and closed the front before he turned around, impatient. He frowned at her as she maneuvered the sash up around her waist, ready to tie it.

"What?"

Of all things, he smirked. "We are not dressing a corpse."

Confused, she looked down at her clothing, and cursed inside. She had crossed the lapels incorrectly. "I knew that." Said lapels were taken into his clawed hands, and with a furious blush she clasped her arms to her chest and swung around, offering her back. "I can change it!" She flung open both layers, and crossed the eri properly, right under left. She tied the hadajuban closed first, then arranged the nagajuban. Before she even began to tie the final layer closed, Sesshōmaru brushed her hair aside and began tugging on the back of her collar, the emon settling at the base of her neck, making the air curl against her skin. "What are you doing?"

"It hangs away from the neck," he stated, pulling the fabric some more. "This would be much easier if you were not so bashful."

"Hey, I am being hired as an actress, not as a striptease," she told him, tugging up at the front around the thin sashes to loosen the fabric more. He held it in place at her shoulders as she arranged the front and tied things together for a third time, finally getting somewhere. When she turned around though, he offered a disappointed expression.

"You have never properly worn a kimono before, have you."

She rolled her eyes. "What is it this time?"

Without preamble he took hold of her outer sash and jostled it.

"Hey!" she yipped, getting her auto-piloting hands smacked away.

"Hold your arms straight out. I need to adjust this."

"Adjust it where?"

"It needs to be a little under your breasts." Her hands got smacked away again, and he directed a firm glare at her. "Be compliant!"

Her arms flung out straight when he snarled at her. The male was quite terrifying when he wished to be. After a moment he seemed satisfied, and continued what he was doing. After some futile attempts he finally held her clothing in place with one hand on her sternum, his claws settling near her throat, and untied her sloppy knot – his voiced impression of it, not hers – before sliding the strap up higher and knotting it again in a series of complicated twists and tucks. "Are the tamoto of the hadajuban hanging properly in the nagajuban?"

"What?"

He sighed through his nose, expression unchanging, and finished with her front after tugging the eri into an appealing fold, then took her wrists – "His arms are long..." – and pulled her arms a bit forward, giving him access down her sleeves. She blushed as he dug for the hadajuban'slittle rumpled sleeve, his own sleeve being pushed back by hers so his bare arm rubbed along her skin as he worked. He did the same with the other side, and jerked again at the front of her juban, getting things settled in alignment. When that was done, and he nodded in satisfaction when it was, he picked up a wide, thin band of red fabric from the box, its color matching the eri of her outer layer, the only part of it which would be seen. This fabric was put up against her middle, and he bent to reach around her.

"You have experience with kimono?" she asked, turning her head away from his hair as he fiddled with something at her back.

"Obviously," he answered, pulling away with the sash, called the datemaki, still in hand, she watched as he turned the flat fabric into a tight elegant twist over her middle, making it a narrow and appealing design over the first layer of the datemaki.

"Why is that?"

He tucked the loose ends away. "Typically, I happened to be the one to take it off."

Her cheeks deepened to a brilliant red, and her gaze flickered quickly to and from him. "Oh."

"And I have three older female siblings. I was not spared from learning the finer points of dressing a female."

That had her smiling nervously, feeling amused, as he picked up the kimono, unfolding and opening it. It really was beautiful, a dark blue silk with orange, white and yellow blotched koi fish designed on it and on the long hanging sleeves, which labeled it as a furisode kimono. The obi would go well with the outfit, offering red, orange and yellow patterns throughout it. He held out the kimono for her, and with a small smile she turned and slipped her arms into it, relishing in the rich weight of the fabric, guiltily enjoying the feel of his strong hands as they smoothed along her shoulders, settling the fabric. He walked around her, and tucked the hanging tamoto of her juban into the sleeves of her kimono, then checked the position of all three emon at the back of her neck. Satisfied, he folded the eri into place over her chest, creating no opportunity for wrinkles as his hands slid over her breasts and down to the eri-saki. After yesterday, it did not phase her as much, but she still blushed slightly, and her chest was still sore about its treatment. A thin sash, the makura-obi, went around her waist as she held the kimono in place, being tied lower than the other layers of sashes.

"Hold your arms up."

Kagome complied, and marveled as he pinched the fabric of the kimono and began to lift it up. "What are you doing?"

"Adjusting the length," he supplied, focused on his work.

"Will this bunch up the juban?"

"No. It is secured, and will settle with the kimono." She endured the hassle, noticing that the makura-obi sash stayed in place as he did this, feeling the juban wriggle up her legs with the kimono. Eventually she felt a draft over her bare toes, and he began to fold the fabric down over the makura-obi to create an overlaying fold of fabric around her middle. "Arms out."

She complied, and he tucked his clawed hands into the yatsuguchi vents in the sides of the kimono under her armpits. She felt him push the fabric down into a smooth fold, his actions tugging down the fabric at her shoulders and at the makura-obi secured around her waist. When the back was settled into a fold he walked behind her and did the same for her front as opposed to disrupting the eri alignment by working through the folds of the eri.

"I have always wondered about that part," she commented as he took up a thin cord and an orange sash from the box, the latter bearing remarkable resemblance to the datemaki. It was the datejime, and after he secured the munehimo cord a short distance beneath her breasts the datejime was tied over it, the same twisting knot given to it after he wrapped it around her waist once.

"This is very tedious," she commented, feeling at the layers of secured clothing around her as he picked up the large, decorative and flashy honobi. He also took up a long rope cord, a silky scarf-like length of fabric, a fabric with what looked to be an expanse of flat firm board sewn into it, and what looked like a small pillow. Three of these things he handed over for her to hold as she held her arms out again. "Thank you for doing this."

"Hm." He kept the honobi, placing the indeed flat and firm board, called the obi-ita, against her middle and tying it in place at her back. When she asked what it was he explained that it would keep the obi from wrinkling throughout the day. The beautiful honobi was unfolded, and he began to wrap it around her waist. To her surprise he kept a length of it out of the wrapping, setting it over her shoulder where it hung down almost over the coils of itself. Her mind wandered as he worked, tightening the honobi and fiddling quickly with it in the back. The scarf-like fabric, called an obi-age, was plucked from her pinched fingers and used to tie the upper part of the honobi in place at her back, the length of it hanging down against her calves as he reached around her front to fold the colorful obi-age first under her obi, then the other side into the outer lapel of her firmly secured kimono. She found herself smiling as her outfit began to resemble the pictures she had ogled at when she was younger. His pulls and manipulations of the honobi continued, and he took the pillow-like item, the obi-makura, from her next. A minute later he walked around her, examining his work, then took the braided silk obi-jime cord from her, freeing her hands, and slipped it around her waist, through the otaiko knot at her back, and knotted it at her front in the traditional manner in the middle of the honobi, taking the remaining ends and laying them parallel to the rest of the obi-jime before having her lift her arms again so as to tuck the ends neatly under the main body of the cord.

Finally he stepped back, eying her for flaws. She smiled, and didn't exactly know what to do with her hands as he scrutinized her attire, and looked down at the rich silks. "How does it look?"

"Hm. Beautiful."

Surprised, she looked up to see him staring at her face. Blushing, she looked away, a grin coming into existence without her permission. Wanting a distraction, she felt at the otaiko knot behind her and tried to picture what the ruffled rims sticking out to either side looked like. It felt elaborate, and fancy. "I am glad. What now?"

Next, he had her stand and hold open a small, firm-bottomed silk bag of some sort, drawstrings forced open. She picked through and stared at different items as he combed through her hair, and marveled over a fine gold hairpiece comb and two matching pins with jade beads hanging from them as decoration.

"Oh, how pretty! Is it real?"

"Of course it is real," he stated, and she felt his fingers brush through her hair, gathering it back. Small amounts of yōki seemed to leak from him, and she ignored her anxious ki. In fact, since she had always enjoyed having her hair brushed and messed with, she found herself humming while tracing the smooth edges of the cool metal hair ornament, the pins propped in the purse from which he withdrew short fabric ties as needed. Fairly quickly he took the ornament from her hands, making her blink at its sudden disappearance as it tucked into her hair, and he also took the pins, leaving only the comb in the small bag which happened to match her outfit. Grinning, she lifted her hands to feel around her hair once he was done, and found it tied back simply, the waves of her thick hair spilling down her back. In the last three years she never cut it, so it was considerably longer than when she had visited the feudal era on a regular basis. Her hair hung down her back, and the ornament and pins were tucked in front of the ties and close against the back of her head. For some reason the tresses were not only dry, but also loosely curled. "I should write a book on the uses of yōki."

Grinning, she gave her head a little shake, and felt the hanging beads swing. She directed that grin to Sesshōmaru, absolutely thrilled. "Thank you so much! I wish I could see myself." She ran her hands down her body again, long hanging sleeves feeling nice and heavy, the contours of her body properly restrained by the layers of tight fabric. She knew that wearing that she hardly had any curves, whether it was in her chest, waist, or bottom, but that was how kimono were supposed to be.

It took some convincing, but eventually she lost and found herself holding tabi socks and zori shoes and the box now holding all of her miko garb in her lap as Sesshōmaru carried her in his arms to the stream she caught the fish in. She did not personally believe that word would spread about her tabi smelling like dirt, but his insistence had her breaking down to his will, grumbling the whole while. When he set her down on her feet by the river he shocked her by kneeling down, asking her to stabilize on his shoulder should she need to. She did so, lightly, and shifted her balance to one foot when he grabbed the first, holding it slightly to the side so as to spare her laid out zori from splashes.

"Here I am," she thought, bent forward slightly, holding his toned deltoid muscle as he worked, "a miko in a furisode, getting my feet washed by a powerful, high ranking inugami daiyōkai." It actually felt really good, and made her think of other, raunchier things until she banished the thoughts. She kept her feet clean just out of principle, but he was a perfectionist, working his hands around her toes and rinsing away any trace of dirt off from the bottom of her foot. Once done, her foot was left to drip-dry for a few moments before he put her first tabi on for her, wrapping and tying it around her ankle, and helped guide her foot into the zori sandal. Then the process was repeated, until she stood a little unstable on zori feet in a completed furisode kimono outfit, purse and hair ornaments included.

"Okay," she began, taking a deep breath. Her hand remained on his shoulder as he stood, and she hoped he knew how much she appreciated him at that moment. "I am as ready as I will ever be."

As they neared the o-shiro through the night, the miko began showing more faith in him, soon having no qualms standing at his side as they traveled on yōki, holding his arm lightly clutching the box near her chest. She refused to leave her clothing in the clearing, and until she saw the sense in doing otherwise she had been ready to take her fire making tools as well.

The young female glanced up at him through her lashes as he sent a wave of yōki ahead of them, making a proper announcement. She made no comment though, and directed a solemn stare forward once more. Nervousness rippled through her just under the surface, and she took another deep breath.

"You will do well."

"You think so?"

"Yes."

Her hold on him tightened briefly, and she permitted herself a small smile. "Thank you. That helps."

They arrived, and he had little difficulty getting her through the barrier of the o-shiro, the whole floating castle bathed in moonlight. As expected, attendants were lined up along the courtyard, forty in total alternating between male and female, standing in a perfect line which led directly to his mother, who was sitting regally on the massive chair reserved for receiving arrivals. Sesshōmaru bypassed the stairs, on which were lined armored guards bearing halberds and swords as well as the crescent moon of Sesshōmaru's pack.

The miko stepped off of the yōki cloud in perfect timing with him, and kept her chin level with the courtyard, her eyes fixed straight ahead. When Rin first came there, she was staring in every direction possible and awing over every little detail. The miko walked at his side as though she had watched over it being built. Her scent was calm, and focused, and her steps were measured and graceful, toes pointing properly inward. As they walked the servants bowed to them, and Sesshōmaru was very satisfied that his scent emanated so strongly from the clothing he dressed her in. It would have been better if he had handled her under layers as well, making their scents mingle faster.

They came to a stop a short distance before his mother, and bowed at varying degrees in acknowledgment, Kagome bending to the precise angle he had taught her, holding it for two seconds, then rising smoothly out of it.

"Welcome home, Sesshōmaru," his mother greeted mildly, passing her gaze over Kagome momentarily before ignoring her completely. "So, this is your new hobby. A pretty little thing I suppose, but nothing more." She glanced over to a servant. "Arrange a room for her, and see to it that her possessions are taken care of."

"She will remain with me," Sesshōmaru stated firmly, slipping his hand around the miko's waist and pulling her close against him. "Before dismissing her, I highly recommend acknowledging her, mother, as a guest in our home, and to grant her the rights due to her."

His mother was tactically placed in a corner in terms of her remaining options. Finally, she smirked, the curve of her lips ever so slight. "Very well. What is the name of your indulgence?"

"Kagome," the miko offered, staring straight into his mother's eyes without showing any fear. "Higurashi Kagome, Heika."

Sesshōmaru kept his surprise to himself. He never would have guessed that she had two names. Anyone of importance there had anywhere from four to six given names, but she was only human. With her status, she should have had only one name.

"Higurashi Kagome," his mother repeated, sounding bored. "Your name is too strong for my liking. It lacks elegance. You may go by another name in my o-shiro should you like to."

"My thanks," the miko replied mildly. "I will decline your generous offer."

His mother nodded. "At least she is humble. Very well. I acknowledge Higurashi Kagome as a consort of my son Sesshōmaru, and approve of her station during her stay here." His mother adopted a smile which he was sure she indented to pass off as delightful, but it was more 'promising' than anything else. "Is that all, son?"

"Indeed." He bowed to her, and Kagome did the same before following his lead, gently taking his arm as they walked for his quarters. Servants peeked at them, curious, and along that short distance Sesshōmaru spotted the three females pining for his attentions, and they glared at the miko who held happily onto his arm. When the servant who fell in behind them opened the shōji to his quarters, Sesshōmaru dismissed the attendant and followed the miko inside.

"Sesshōmaru," the girl began, maintaining her elegant mannerisms. "You never told me that your mother was such a delight. I should like to have tea with her in the near future, if you do not mind."

She was being sarcastic. Luckily for them, it sounded sincere when you could not see how forcefully she spoke through her teeth.

"Oh come now, is this pretty little thing really it?"

The miko stiffened, surprised, but plastered merriment on her face like geisha paint and turned to the open shōji,and the female lounging against the frame.

"Hm," Meiling hummed, coming closer and viewing the miko. "Her eyes are rather peculiar, for a human." Sesshōmaru stepped back, allowing the females to interact. The miko, shorter by inches than any of the females chasing him, stood perfectly still, watching Meiling by turning only her eyes as the female circled the curiosity her mate-to-be brought. "Her powers are fairly impressive. May we snack on her, Sesshōmaru, before making a pup?"

"Oh," the miko began with a small grin, nodding at Sesshōmaru in a 'you have got to be joking' manner, "I really like this one. She has some spunk."

"Spunk?" Meiling inquired, coming full circle and standing before the miko. "Do enlighten me on the finer points of human 'language', dear miko."

"Ah, yes," the miko began, kindness abounding. "Where are my manners. Please, should I forget in the future, remind me to fill you in where you have shortcomings in comprehension. 'Spunk' is a word we humans use to identify those with a personality different from that of the speaker's. In this case though, the word is used through grammatical indications to indicate that my first impression of your personality is unsavory and childish compared to mine, the speaker." The miko appeared to be in favorable spirits as she glanced between the only other two occupants in the room, quite delighted with life and bearing the innocence of a newborn. Sesshōmaru would never have believe her to be able to say such a sentence from the top of her head. "My apologies, did I use another human language term, or was I direct enough to grasp your understanding?"

"It has been grasped," Meiling replied, a touch bitter. "I have underestimated your indulgence, Sesshōmaru. What is her name?"

"He need not speak for me," the miko butted in with a small laugh. "Again, my apologies for such rudeness. My name is Kagome, Higurashi Kagome, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine, I am sure," Meiling replied. "You may call me Meiling-sama."

"Why impose such formality on friendship, Meiling-chan?" the miko audaciously questioned. Sesshōmaru laughed inside with disbelief. "I would much rather make friends than acquaintances. Would you care to join me tomorrow for tea, Meiling-chan? I should very much like to learn more about you."

"I am free tonight," Meiling offered through her teeth, 'smiling'.

"As thrilling as the thought of entertaining you is," the miko began with a gracious grin, "I must ask that you depart for the evening, and inform me on when you may be available for tea at another time. I am weary, and plan to sleep well tonight, with the company of no one; other than my lover, of course."

"And what right do you believe to have in claiming this room?" Meiling asked mildly. Both she and Sesshōmaru waited for the answer, the tension between the two females taunt enough to strike a note from.

"Every right," the miko replied, as calm as a frozen pond. "After all, I am his lover. I am the one who was invited here by the resident of these quarters, and it is to a bed I occupy that he willingly comes." Offering a small smirk, the young female pretending to be his lover glanced over to him, ignoring Meiling and offering him a lovely smile. "He chose to be with me. And I choose to be with him. Otherwise I would not be here." She addressed Meiling again, bowing her head slightly. "I thank you for understanding this delicate issue, and where it places your claims on my lover. On our behalf, I request that you leave immediately, and that you ask for permission to enter these rooms from now on."

As silly as it was, Sesshōmaru actually took great pride in his false lover's methods. There was no certain cultural claim she had over him, but she related and communicated with Meiling as one female to another, and seemed to have struck home a solid point.

Meiling looked up at him, barely moving her head to do so. When he made no move to return the glance, she regarded the miko again and smirked, bowing her head in return. "Very well. We shall see how long this lasts."

"I thank you kindly," the miko replied, sounding on the verge of a giggle while bowing her head again. Meiling spared him one final glance, then regally carried herself out of his chambers.

The shōji closed, and she made her way down the long rōka.

"Are we alone, love?"

"Yes."

The miko exhaled, a distraught look on her face as she walked to the table in the center of the room and sat down – on it – gripping its edge and finally setting her box aside. "Sesshōmaru, I have full faith that these females of yours are going to end up killing me. And your mother will pay for a mural of the blood bath to be stitched in the finest of silks."

He chuckled, taking a seat next to her. "You did well."

"Yes. It should be a lovely mural... Make sure of it, would you?"

"For introductions," he clarified. "You will leave a lasting impression."

"Yes," she replied, staring into the distance. "That is because sometimes I use a yellow-hot branding iron in lieu of ink and paper to offer my signature when I meet new people." She had to describe what a branding iron was. He became very partial to the idea of permanently marking one's territory in such a bold and assertive manner.

The miko tried in vain to gouge her eyes out with her palms, and ended up putting her elbows on her knees and her brow in her hands, yawning. "I can not believe you had me running laps today while reciting facts. For over hours... Then practically throwing me into the hot spring." Suddenly appearing quite tired, she looked up at him. "You know, I would blame more of these little personality blemishes of yours on your upbringing, but a part of me suspects that you do some things just for the sake of your own amusement."

He had to admit, it had taken some time for her weariness to outweigh her irritation earlier that day as she ran, practically yelling answers to his questions. "You came here with a clean, fresh scent thanks to your efforts," he explained once again. "It was only coincidental that your efforts happened to be amusing."

The miko sighed, examining the shōji lined room. "So, I will be staying here..."

"Yes."

"With you."

"Yes."

"For possibly a month."

"Indeed."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I do not think I stated enough requirements to satisfy what you owe me..."

"You really must be exhausted then," he stated, standing. "I will assist you in disrobing. You may sleep in one of my yukata tonight. I will have the servants bring clothing and supplies for your future use while you sleep."

A nod later, and she followed as he led her to the room Meiling had exited to find them. "Oh, wow, that is a gigantic futon."

"I have never seen it as being big enough for two," he shared, dreading to find Meiling's scent in it again.

"I do not take up much space," the miko stated wearily, lifting her arms straight out and facing him. "Please disrobe me. This clothing is exceedingly restrictive."

He did, tossing things aside as the fabrics unraveled. When he completely removed her honobi though she began to take over, asking for a yukata as she pulled the rich fabric of the kimono from her narrow shoulders and into the crooks of her arms. A part of him wished to watch her shed the layers of her clothing. The rest of him made a dignified beeline for a yukata.

"Thank you," she muttered as he set the clothing on the edge of the futon for when she was ready. The final sash holding her nagajuban in place finally came undone, and the clothing over the sheer layer on her skin loosened in a tempting manner. "… Sesshōmaru."

Her irritable tone had him looking up after following the sash's descent to the floor, and found her staring with sharpened patience as he sat next to the yukata on the edge of his bedding. With a small sigh – really, he should be able to do anything in his own chambers – he got up and exited the room, listening a moment as she continued to undress. Deciding to busy himself, he walked out and down the length of the rōka, opening the shōji himself, and found a servant quite quickly. After a few minutes of relaying orders he made his way back to his quarters, wondering how long it would take for the miko's scent to burrow into the very floors of his rooms. Not that he wished it to, of course. Simply a passing curiosity.

"There you are," she 'greeted' him as he slid open the door, holding out her arms to display the yukata. "I just wanted to tell you that you are a very big boy!"

He smirked, his yukata hanging off of her, trailing on the floor a short distance behind and exposing her legs to the knee as a result. Very fine legs. He distinctly remembered one rubbing up his side, and her hands, attached to delicately tinted arms with longer than average sleeves on, running through his hair as she moaned and pressed her groin up against him.

He blinked. Did his mind really just wander off like that? Back to the ridiculously oversized yukata. "Will it suffice for the night?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked, grinning and gathering up the fabric, tugging the eri back into place and tightening the simple male obi. "I love baggy clothes. They are so much warmer when you sleep."

An article of clothing which would please her came to mind, and he stored it away. "Good. Would you like tea before bed?" All the females he knew did.

The miko shook her head. "Nah." A thought visibly crossed both her mind and her face. "But, I could do with knowing where to relieve myself."

That was an unexpected issue. "Immediately?"

She pouted at him. "Well, no, I can hold it overnight if a special room does not exist for it.

"There are a few," he offered. "Mainly located in the servant's quarters."

"I do not mind walking."

"I mind you walking."

"It is not as though I am pregnant," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "I can go any reasonable distance to go pee."

"I am not saying you are physically incapable. I merely do not wish you to associate yourself with the servants."

She sighed. "You are so status tedious. I personally do not care, but if you do then by all means make my life difficult. I will have to go when I wake up though, and on average twice a day, so please figure something out by morning if you wish to limit my wanderings, okay?"

"Hm."

Watching him, her mood slipped into an easier going one as she went from crossed arms to hugging herself. "I did well today?"

"Very well."

"Will tomorrow be more difficult?"

"Yes."

She nodded, then walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him for no obvious reason. "Good night. I will see you tomorrow." And with that she left for the futon, closing the shōji behind her. After pondering her actions and how they were similar to Rin's – was a need for physical touch a human thing, or simply a quirk? Perhaps a human female quirk – he began to methodically burn Meiling's scent away with his yōki,replacing it. Time passed, and he noted the moon's light traveling across the tatami floor.

A stream of servants approached. He ceased his efforts and had a seat at the table the miko had sat upon. Soon his rooms were politely violated with armloads of female clothing and accessories, the servants bowing to him over their burdens before silently entering the miko's place of rest.

"Ah, the young lady is in," the elderly head servant commented, bowing to Sesshōmaru and having a seat across the table from him, monitoring the flow of her minions. A young female followed her, standing nearby and silent. "She has stirred up quite the commotion in our quarters. I hear that she is a fine beauty, and a miko at that." She directed her weathered face at him, smiling. "I must admit, if you planned on outdoing your father in every possible way you are on the right path, Sesshōmaru Denka."

"Hm." He looked away from her, her previous words still haunting him. "I would also like her to have a kaimaki."

"Oh, I added a few of those in with her nemaki and yukata. Humans really are terrible at regulating their own body temperatures, particularly at night."

"You know about them?" Sesshōmaru inquired.

"Oh yes. My great grandson is mated to a human, in a village on the western coastline. She is a fine young thing, and keeps him in line while I am not around to do so."

"Is he full-blooded?"

"He is all inu. And his children are adorable little mongrels, the kami bless his mate for providing me with such sweet young pups to dote on whenever I leave the o-shiro."

A passing curiosity tickled its way out of him. "Is he content with one mate?"

"She is worth twenty of the typical options we leave our males with," the elder sighed. "And her cooking is quite good."

Sesshōmaru smirked to himself. The miko was most likely terrible at cooking, taking into account her absentmindedness. "My lover-"

"What is her name?"

He paused, frowning momentarily over being interrupted. "Her name is Kagome." It was not as terrible to say as he thought it would be. The elder nodded, and he continued. "Kagome will need to relieve herself on a regular basis."

"Well, that is obvious," the elder chuckled. "What goes in must come out, and since you told us she needs three meals a day I would expect her to expel it one way or another. I will set some servants to work on preparing for her future needs as well. My dear sweet great granddaughter-in-law has told me all about their monthly plights, so reassure Kagome Hidenka for me that I will be ready when hers arrive."

This puzzled Sesshōmaru, but he refused to ask and expose his ignorance.

"Oh! I almost forgot," the elder piped in, summoning the young female forward. "This is Chiro. She can act as Kagome's personal maid during her stay here."

At being named, the servant bowed with great respect, and blushed at seeing him. She was recently of age, meaning her instincts would be a little hectic for the next few decades. "Good evening, Sesshōmaru Denka."

"When does Kagome typically rise?" the elder inquired.

"When the sun is double its height on the horizon," Sesshōmaru informed, guessing, and watched Chiro nod to confirm having heard the information.

The elder waved the servant off, and when they were 'alone', with servants still carrying in clothing, Sesshōmaru decided to ask another question. "How quickly did she bear pups?"

"Oh, immediately," the elder replied, smiling over the returning subject. "She is such a productive little thing. Very fertile, like most human females. Are you having difficulties, Sesshōmaru Denka?"

Everything about the miko could be classified of late as a difficulty. "You could say that."

"It may be because of what she is. Do not be surprised if she repels you on instinct alone. Perhaps if you suppress her energy, she will get and stay with pup more easily for you." The elder gave him a knowing smile. "Or perhaps you should woo her to your bed. More often than you normally do, of course."

Sesshōmaru really needed to stop pursuing conversations with this unnervingly knowledgeable female. "Perhaps."

As though sensing that her presence was no longer welcomed, the elder stood and bowed to him, then wandered off to see how the sorting of clothing was going. It was not long afterward that she was hustling her crew out and down the long hallway connecting his quarters to the rest of the floating o-shiro.

"Sleep well, Sesshōmaru Denka," the elder bid, bowing properly before closing the shōji and following the servants.

Sitting where he was, wondering briefly over the elder's parting words when yōkai as strong as himself rarely slept, Sesshōmaru thought over future qualms, and grunted lightly when nothing came to mind. The alpha of the servants had the needs of his 'lover' under control, and so far his feisty female had proven quite capable in handling herself around others. It was funny, feeling that there was really nothing to preoccupy himself with, nothing to compensate for or to work around. It was a good feeling, knowing he had chosen a good candidate to play as his lover.

Rising, Sesshōmaru decided to see if the miko had remained asleep through all of the bustle of the servants. The shōji slid silently aside, revealing a dark, moon blushing room. On the far side of his futon lay what looked like a small bundle, curled up and occupying his bed. His young female lay underneath the bedding he rarely used and on her back, sound asleep with her head tilted away and one arm bent up out from under the blanket. Thinking to himself that he had nothing better to do, nothing he wished to do, he walked around the futon and quietly removed his armor and weapons, then began to disrobe. With her asleep, he felt no hesitation in standing in only his skin while selecting a yukata for the night. Clothing was an unnatural thing, and yōkai had begun using it as a show of wealth and status, not so much for 'decency' as humans did. He dressed, and hesitated in settling onto the futon. He had many memories there, most of them unforgettably unfavorable, which was why he normally sought rest during the daytime if he had to.

A soft hum permeated the air, and the miko shifted, turning onto her side and exposing an issue with larger than appropriate clothing. Initially he glancing away, but his eyes were inevitably drawn back to the bared half of her chest. A guilty, filthy pleasure stirred within his primal side, and he swallowed a mounting rumble in his chest, and a rising desire. He had felt at her body while his mind ran rampant with lust, and vividly recalled the satisfaction he held for her full maturity and signs of fertility. Wide rounded hips, a tapered waistline, full breasts, all of it capable of bearing, birthing, and nurturing any pup she had. She was also strong. In ki, yes, but she also had a pleasing amount of muscle definition which left him wondering over how that came to be. Perhaps she practiced her archery on a regular basis.

Standing transfixed, he realized that the coloration and natural shape of her breast was also promising, with a deeply shaded areola and a nipple which perked in the cool night air out from the well rounded swell. She was very capable of nourishing an offspring, and he distinctly, horrifyingly recalled a raw, instinctual, untamed urge to get her pregnant with his pup. He had wholeheartedly desired to labor over her tirelessly until she accepted his seed, no matter how long it took.

His thoughts took mere moments to process, and again, more forcefully, he looked away. The memory had him pressing two fingers firmly between his eyebrows as he closed his eyes. This was not healthy for him. He did not even enjoy the thought of having pups running around. And yet, when his will broke down and he peered at her again, he wanted to take pride in his lingering desires, to fulfill them, and to gain her permission and acceptance.

"She is merely convenient," he told himself, taking up his fur and willing himself into bed. As much as it aggravated him, he could not fully block out the idea that he could be lying to himself.

Following her lead he slipped under the blanket, and decided to rectify her clothing before his thoughts could guide him astray. She had not given the obi a proper knot, which he did while trying not to disturb her rest. On top of his humming instincts, Meiling's scent was nearly suffocating, and he began to wash it away with gentle waves of yōki, hoping the miko would not wake. He could not tolerate the stench, and marveled at this female's ability to sleep in that situation. Methodically cleansing for the second time that night, he busied his hands with removing the hair ornaments she had forgotten about, setting them aside on the ground. He plucked loose the tie restraining her hair, and watched as it melted out of the wrap, flowing down to the bedding and loosening around her face, some strands sagging freely across her cheek. He brushed them aside, tucking them behind her ear, and watched as her face twitched at the contact, being tickled.

As Meiling's scent slowly faded he became more aware of his companion's, which was far from unsavory. The hum for action grew louder in his head. By his age right, it was only natural to want the company of a female, and by his status it was only natural to get any female he desired, and-

His thoughts could not go on like this. Reaching out, he shifted closer to the miko and held her against his chest, out of sight. His false lover shifted, but it was brief, and she settled in his hold without further complaints. Like this, his instincts were bearable. If he held her, filled the void in his arms, he could suppress the urges. He knew he could not be with her intimately, it would destroy his life and all he had worked for. The miko would never be his, and Meiling's scent beckoned, promised an empty release.

Without thinking he dipped his head, burying his nose in the miko's hair, suppressing himself, submitting to restraint, and breathed. Meiling's scent blessedly became an underlying one. The miko's was warm, familiar, and – oddly – as calming as her warm and steady breath was in stroking the base of his neck, and her slowed heartbeat against his chest. He relaxed, closed his eyes. He did not require sleep, not for at least another week to complete the month. He really did not.

Thoughts slowly stilled, silencing themselves to listen to the sounds of her living. He did not need to sleep. Gradually, he felt himself slow, his body mimicking the lulling rhythm of her rest. Willingly, he settled around the miko, and fell from the precipice of consciousness.

Kagome woke when her nose simply would not stop being bent in an odd angle. Still halfway asleep, she shifted, and nuzzled into the nice body pillow she was pressed against. Her body pillow had an awful lot of muscle...

Her eyes snapped open, adrenaline rushing, to see cast in moonlight a throat, the base of which was horribly offending her nose. Seeking some personal space, she pulled away, feeling a spot on her brow cool as she moved. Her vision grew to encompass a firm chest wrapped in fabric, and beautiful, slightly parted lips, which must have rested against her brow as did the wonderfully sculpted nose against her hair.

A small, barely audible groan of protest was her only warning before the arm around her pulled her back in. Heart racing, she froze, and felt as her body pillow reasserted its position, nose delving against the top of her head as though hunting for a smell. She blinked in wonder upon realizing it was Sesshōmaru who, without even trying to mask it, shifted against her temptingly and penetrated her knees with his own before sighing, and not the vexed or exasperated sort of sigh she would have preferred in that situation. This sigh made her heart flutter, and her hand twitch to wrap around him in turn, her legs tingle with want to slide around his is the tangled mesh of their limbs through their yukata.

"Oh, my, this is not healthy for me," she thought, staring at the chest which again horribly violated the privacy of her nose. Scrunching her face, she turned it, feeling his smooth dry lips slide across her forehead. "I'm getting all hot and bothered, and I'm in his bed. This is not healthy for me!"

A low rumble shot through to her core as his lips moved against her head, his body shifted, holding her tighter. "Be still."

Never, in her entire life, had she heard Sesshōmaru's voice like that, or even remotely close to that. He sounded like he was half asleep or something, his words thick and quiet, and by all appearances he was slipping back into unconsciousness. A part of her was not proud of it, but she remained still, and listened to him. Seconds passed. Minutes. Kagome wondered what it was she was waiting for, but it finally came. A slow smile played on her mouth as the arm restraining her loosened its hold, the leg between hers relaxed, the head against hers grew heavier, and the breathing she heard became lower, deeper, and slowed. Even the slow current of his yōki settled into an enviable stillness

"You are asleep," she thought, grinning madly for a reason she couldn't fathom. Compromising, she shifted just far enough away to spare her nose, allowing him to coddle her like a teddy bear. "That mental image is horribly adorable..." Curious, feeling that her sacrifice of comfort was justification enough, she cautiously brought her hand up between them, and pressed it to his chest. It was firm, but in a different, liquidated kind of way. "So you can be soft." She had felt him during the moment they shared, felt his toned, taunt body over hers and relished in it. Always, she had imagined him, with his obvious pride and his strong bearing, to have an iron body, never lenient and never appearing weak; indestructible.

This was not that. This was entirely different. This was Sesshōmaru just being Sesshōmaru, not the Lord of the Western Lands, not the heir to the title of Inu no Taishō, not the male who had a world to impress before conquering it as his plaything. This was a male who chose to wrap himself around her without demanding kisses or sex. This was a male who was strong, but could set aside that strength when he wanted to. "This is a male who is running away from becoming mated, from having a life full of as much sex and conquest as he can handle."

Idly, and suddenly quite comfortable with him, Kagome wondered what he really wanted in life, and doodled with a finger on the exposed part of his torso. Why would he turn away the foundations of his empire if all female inu apparently acted the same way? Why would he, a male, choose to resist the temptations of his species and remain single, without a decent title, and to go against other inu clans by turning away their prized females? She could not imagine it being because he was not ready, he was fully capable of building his own pack and siring pups while defeating opposing rulers and nations on the side. She could not imagine him simply not wanting to, considering his strong pursuit of power. It was fathomable, though childish, to think he would toss opportunity off the back porch for the sake of defying his mother. There just had to be a logical motivation to all of this.

Reacting belatedly to her moving, Sesshōmaru nuzzled his nose against her again, in a way that had her wide-eyed as her head rocked back, allowing his face to tuck slightly under hers. Feeling stuck – he would definitely wake up if she moved her cheek from his – she tried to deal with her distraught, school girl behaving body and rest. It was impossible to tell what time it was other than 'dead of night', so she hoped to get some sleep. Still, she took a few moments from her night, took her arm out from under the blanket, wrapped it around him, and selected a lock of silky smooth hair to twirl in her fingers, smiling like an idiot.

Sesshōmaru drifted into reality as something opened the shōji to his rooms. Remaining still, with the miko's brow resting against the bridge of his nose, he waited, facing the door. The weak yōki was recognizable, and the young servant girl – Chiro, if he recalled correctly – gave an infinitesimally small squeak before the rustle of fabric indicated a bow and the shōji closed once again, her tabi covered feet padding quickly away.

Such a bother. Opening his eyes, he pulled back to look down at the first female he ever held in his arms upon awakening. She slept, snoring lightly, lips parted and a small pool of drool catching on the sleeve of the yukata she wore on the arm bent between them, her loose fist near the crossing fold of his own yukata. Her other arm was out of the blanket for some reason, draped over his hip in a languished sort of way. It was well past time for his day to start, so he slipped away from her, twisted around, sat up, and stood. Well, he tried to anyway. A small, foreign tug pulled at his head, and he cast a bewildered look over his shoulder, making it tug again. His hair was caught most intricately around the miko's fingers.

Sighing, he got back onto the futon and began extracting himself from her new, soon to disappear source of entertainment, wondering how he managed to sleep through such mishandling. The overall shape of her hand was quite effeminate, her fingers long and narrow and tapered into well groomed nails, which he took a moment to examine. How could they be strong against daily activities when they were so thin? Then again, their thinness offered a display of colors, including half moon shapes at the base of each nail, which turned into a rich light pink, then finished with a small portion of semi-transparent, bone-white, outgrown tip, the edge of which was dull to the touch. The thumb nail had a break in it on the side, cutting into the meat underneath. Curious, he picked at the odd injury, and her hand gave a little flinch; they were sensitive. Perhaps that was why humans relished in touching. Sesshōmaru could touch and enjoy the feel of things, but he did not hold a high value in it. In his true form, his paws were covered with fur and course, thick skin from which sprouted claws. Things that were sensitive to him were his ears, neck, face and groin, places where inu commonly touched one another when permitted to, particularly when in their true form.

Curiosity aside, he set the miko's hand down, got dressed into a simple but rich kimono over a nagajuban, threw on a happi, put on a pair of setta and left. He was not the type to groom the claws on his feet down to a tabi accommodating length and shape, unlike most females in the o-shiro.

As he walked down the rōka, he sensed the servant from earlier standing outside the next set of shōji. Seeing as she would pick up on his yōki and service him, he took his arms from the sleeves of his outfit and settled them into the futokoro of his kimono, folding them over the obi restraint. Walking the rest of the way with arms futokoro-de, at his ease, he pondered over what to do. The servant girl opened the shōji, and bowed when he passed through it.

"Wake up my lover before midday," he ordered, pausing in his pace and looking down at Chiro's lowered head. "The night was a touch restless for her." That was according to her fingers in his hair. "If you hear her walking around, enter and service her as need be."

"Yes, Sesshōmaru Denka."

He left, and the servant closed herself in the rōka to his rooms, most likely to accommodate her hearing. Servants were not trained on how to do more with their yōki than to slightly lengthen their lives, meaning they all had dull senses.

He got no further than thirty paces when one of the three females stalking him revealed herself, her yōki coming out from its restraint as she walked closer. Their techniques reminded him of a pup's game he had been forced to participated in when younger. His siblings would hide themselves away, and he would have to find them with his senses alone. If he passed one, or if someone sneaked up on him, they would unveil their yōki and quite literally pounce. It was a humiliating game, which taught him how to make loathing things – particularly tickles – an art.

Sesshōmaru maintained his casual pace, and did not visually regard the female when she came into sight. She was his preference of the three, the second strongest, with raven black hair billowing in silky waves down to her bottom, pinned back in delicate silver combs today behind her ears and away from her face.

The female bowed to him. "Good morning, Sesshōmaru Denka." He nodded to her out of obligation, and she fell in at his side. "You seem in a good mood today. That is a favorable change. Do we have your lover to thank for it?"

"Hm."

She giggled softly behind an uplifted hand, walking at his side in silence for a dozen paces. "I wish to thank you for displaying your preferences. Your lover has flattered me."

This caught him off guard, and he glanced down at deep blue eyes regarding him.

"She looks like me," the female stated, a small smile on her lips. "In a manner of speaking, that is. I am encouraged by your lover."

Surprised, Sesshōmaru stopped and glared mildly at her slender clawed hand as it rested on his shoulder, near his neck. A small smile curved her lips, and she made a flick at his earlobe, a mild reprimand for ignoring her. If it did not have a valid purpose, he would have taken drastic measures to make sure that such a thing did not happen again, such as banish her from Japan or, to save on paperwork, kill her. As the situation stood though, he could not touch her with violent intent.

"Please remember that my rooms are always available to you. You owe me at least tea on the engawa within the next two days."

With that she left down a side rōka, smelling pleased. It was amazing what minor achievements the desperate could settle for. Shaking himself – he despised being touched by others – he continued on his fairly aimless way. Kicked up instincts desired that he inspect the o-shiro,assess the health of his extensive pack and determine the security of his home. Official matters required his attentions as well, meaning that eventually he would have to see if there were any matters to attend to, and if there were any news on the boarders from the surrounding Lords and Lady of The Lands. The last he had heard from them though was in regards to Naraku, and since his mother handled matters in the Western Lands that had left Sesshōmaru available to gain permission from the Lords of the Southern and Eastern Lands and the Lady of the Northern Lands to stalk the nuisance throughout Japan and make sport of him.

A messenger jogged down the corridor, seeing Sesshōmaru and coming to a stop in front of him, bowing. "Sesshomaru Denka. Your mother will see you at midday." The young male left at Sesshōmaru's nod, and he could not help but to wonder what that female who birthed him was plotting.

His wanderings took him to the scholar chambers, a dry little room reserved for the official documents and records of important details. The newest entries would pertain to trade between Japan and China and what was happening in the inu court of the mainland. In a particular part of the records would be a history of his bloodline. Meiling's presence would be recorded in it as his unconfirmed alpha, and the three females as suitors. Inu-Yasha would never appear in it.

Selecting a scroll from the top of a pile in the large square shelf, he unrolled it and skimmed over the events taking place in his lands. Trade had reached a new low, but that was due to the season and a misfortune of some sort in the mainland. The soldiers in the camps scattered throughout his terrain were complaining again about the drastic lack of females, which would begin to resolve if Sesshōmaru were to mate Meiling and bear influence in the mainland court through the power and influence of both of their families. Villages would take root around the soldier camps, and with the fertility of those with weaker bloodlines and yōki, meaning shorter lifespans, they would see drastic growth in the inu community in Japan. In fact, mating Meiling would be the best decision he could make as a young new Inu no Taishō.

The thought of her made his stomach twist, and he skimmed information regarding rations sent to the soldiers and how their wages balanced with the taxes imposed on them. Taxes from human cities in his terrain were struggling as humans began to stretch more and more with their trade routes and frequency of travel, which put him at odds with the surrounding Lords and Lady in terms of competition for tax income. Owning the entirety of Japan would be a tricky matter, and it was due to these taxes that he did not pursue total conquest yet. Until that time, if he manipulated the values of trade he could be the one making the profits at the other Lands' disadvantages, which would weaken them one by one. Make Edo the capital? Sesshōmaru had the capital, Kyoto, why on earth would he want to send the Emperor to Edo?

"Hm." He made a promise, and if things worked out he planned to stick to that promise. It would not be the first time that something seemingly asinine and ridiculous worked out miraculously well. In fact, it was his faith in that odd nature of luck he had that led him into this fiasco with the miko in the first place.

Rolling the scroll, he tucked it back away, deciding to suffer through the females for a few days before fleeing for a small 'vacation' and visiting the Emperor in person. It always lifted his spirits to watch people in power grovel.

"Perhaps the miko would enjoy seeing Kyoto."

He froze, hand on another parchment to read, a dark frown weighing on his brow. Where did that thought come from? Then again, to maintain the farce he would have to bring her regardless, and indulging in her would keep the females out of his beautiful hair for the vast majority of the day. With that, it was decided, whether the miko wished to come or not. Sesshōmaru spent the rest of that morning perusing information, planning and preparing for the future, and throughout his efforts he periodically found himself simply staring straight ahead, through the dried ink, thinking about voluptuous things and having a quiet home on the coast. Again he focused on the document before him. He was born into a life of conquest, not of luxury.

Kagome woke, and immediately ducked further under the blankets. Sesshōmaru's futon was so very comfortable, it was hard to will herself to leave it. Especially since she had more introductions to get out of the way today. Deciding she had better things to do, Kagome opened her eyes and peered around. Sesshōmaru was nowhere to be found, and a brief browse with her ki did not sound him out anywhere in his quarters, or any other yōkai. There was a faint presence of yōki though, a little distant, perhaps standing in the rōka hall.

Groaning, she lay her head back down onto the slightly elevated mattress. This was so much better than the ground. It took a few minutes, but eventually she got up, and began padding around his room. Since he was not around, and since she would be stuck there for a time, she felt to have every right to nose around a little. For the sake of familiarity, of course. The boldly painted piece she had noticed last night, but had not been able to see very well, was an impressive painting over the futon, depicting a very vicious battle in ink. It had a lengthy poetic written portion in one upper corner, its words starting black but gradually mixing colors, until the last impacting line was the same blood red as a good portion of the actual painting.

A small wave of shivers passed over her when she finished reading it, skimming the six foot wide painting again. She hopped off of the futon, and walked over again to the armor and swords propped in the corner of the room. She recognized Bakusaiga, the sword that had decimated Naraku and his plots. The second was a new piece, something she had never seen before, and she grinned to think over Tōtōsai having that encounter. Sesshōmaru could be quite a hassle when he wanted something done. The last example of his stubbornness had resulted in her waking up slung over his shoulder.

Glancing over her own shoulder nervously, she grinned and reached for the new sword, feeling first with her ki to make sure it would not hurt her. A tapping came at the door, and she flinched so horribly that she fell onto her bottom.

"Kagome Hidenka, are you awake?"

Rubbing her bottom, she shot to her feet, calming her distressed nerves and rectifying the sloppy angles of the yukata she wore. "Yes, I am."

The shōji slid open, admitting a female who appeared to be around Kagome's age. To her mild horror, the servant got down onto her knees and bowed to Kagome, offering her name and intentions to serve while keeping her eyes downcast.

"Um..." Kagome floundered for words, then mentally kicked herself. Finally, she settled on a small smile. "I am flattered, but my face is not down there, Chiro."

There was a confused silence. "Pardon?"

"Stand up. I appreciate your regards, and will remember them. Please, only abase yourself when others will see." Her thoughts churned on a possible unfortunate incident as she regarded the painting again. "Especially if Sesshōmaru sees. The kami know he is a stickler for protocol." Looking back at the servant, Kagome almost giggled over the quizzical expression on Chiro's face as she knelt, and had to gesture with her hands to snap the girl out of it and summon her to her feet. "You look far too nervous, which I understand since I am asking you to set aside your training. My apologies, I am accustomed to unsettling people with my undying lack of formality. Would you feel better by fetching me some food?"

"Oh, yes, Hidenka," Chiro replied, bowing formally, still looking bewildered. "What would you enjoy this morning?"

Kagome hummed, thinking. She had to give the girl a task to let her settle into her role, but it always took her an hour or so to work up an appetite in the morning. "A sampling of fruits would be nice. Some broth soup and fish as well."

Chiro nodded. "Anything else?"

"Chopsticks," Kagome answered. "And a smile on your face." It appeared immediately, and Kagome laughed. "Sesshōmaru informed me," she merely expected this with high hopes, "that certain necessities of mine would be arranged by sunrise."

The girl nodded again, turning it somewhat into another little bow. "Yes. The elder has seen to matters personally. Do you require use of the room?"

"Soon. I believe that Sesshōmaru would have a fit if I were to walk around wearing these clothes." She lifted her arms, and laughed somewhat to herself.

Chiro was very knowledgeable of where certain articles of clothing had been stored, and impressed Kagome with her folding speed after unfurling a variety of garments for her to choose from. Kagome would have settled for a yukata, but seeing as it would do nothing for her image – nor Sesshōmaru's for that matter – she elected a kimono and allowed Chiro to dress her. It was easy for Kagome to stand naked before the girl, seeing as she was a miko and had seen plenty of nudity over the years, but she did not think she would ever be comfortable in front of a group of women, or a mixed gender group. Or even naked in front of one man, no matter the reason.

"Does something trouble you?"

Kagome withdrew from her thoughts, lamenting her sexual inexperience for a brief moment. Chiro was reacting to a small sigh. "I am fine."

"Sesshōmaru Denka informed me that you may be tired after last night," the servant commented. "Is it difficult?"

"Hm?"

The girl blushed. "Being a human, and making love to a powerful daiyōkai like Sesshōmaru Denka. Is it difficult?"

Kagome smiled, very nearly grinding her teeth. "Well, he works fast." "On the contrary, I find it invigorating. I have given myself to no other, but rumor strongly supports the shortcomings of human men."

This veered the conversation onto a less embarrassing topic, and one Kagome could talk freely about without risking being caught in a little lie, or giving information for Sesshōmaru to unwittingly counter later on. Deciding to talk with him on their apparent history together, Kagome marveled at how quickly she became dressed and was 'led' into the o-shiro. It seemed that the servants had to jump through some pretty high hoops in that place. Not only was Kagome left to walk ahead while taking directions from the girl, but Chiro also ran forward and opened shōji for Kagome, then bowed as she passed, closed it, and fell back into her shadowing role. It was almost enough to make Kagome's head spin.

The 'restroom' was a bit of a shock. Not too far from Sesshōmaru's quarters, Kagome was amazed to have the door slid open to reveal a nicely lit room lined with its own mini engawa, and she had no idea how they did it but there was actually grass, growing and rooted into soil, for a floor. She could smell the earth strongly, and appreciated the scent. It may serve to cover some smells she would make in the future, and make a poor servant's job easier. It was extremely humiliating knowing that someone was going to handle her waste, but given her predicament she had no choice. It was no wonder that servants were regarded by some as animals, it made putting them through certain tasks much more bearable.

It was a small difficulty to shoo Chiro away, telling her to take the food to the main room of Sesshōmaru's quarters and re-re-re-reassuring the girl that she could find her way back unattended. When she finally got the privacy she desired, Kagome went ahead and examined the room further. Rice paper lined the small chamber, allowing in a nicely filtered light on three sides. The step surrounding the floor acted as a shelf as well, and she was very happy to see some necessary items available, including two lidded pots, one with lightly scented water and one without, and toilet paper in the form of small cut up strips of fabric stacked amply to one side.

Dealing with her kimono proved to be a small labor in and of itself, as well as how to situate herself. After far too much effort she eventually finished and removed the lid of the scented water, tipping it into her hand several times, scrubbing her palms and fingers furiously and lamenting a lack of soap, then took up an extra cloth and rinsed off her face with the water left in the jar. This was going to be a long-... well, however long it took, it was bound to feel longer than it was.

Satisfied with the results and with the settling of her layers of clothing, she exited, and balked when a young male bowed to her. Right outside of the room no less!

"Was everything satisfactory?"

Kagome did her best to battle a blush, and was losing quickly. "Yes. I would appreciate some soap in the future. Thank you." Mortified, she left, walking a little too hastily down the rōka. The male had been quite beautiful – every yōkai was beautiful it seemed – and she lamented leaving him with that to deal with. "Once a day. Perhaps pee twice, but I can save the rest for once a day. Oh, kami, why did I get myself into this!"

A presence made itself known, and her embarrassment fluttered away when a female – quite strong – stood stock still down the hall, blocking it with a galling amount of expectation. Kagome offered the female a smile, and came to a stop as well. Sesshōmaru had said that she should only consider respectfully bowing to his mother, seeing as other officials would most likely not seek her out. This was definitely not his mother, but the female had a small tick in her eyebrow as though she were staring at the kid who beat up her child and made them eat dirt from the sandbox for no good reason.

"Good morning," Kagome greeted, doing her best to act casual.

"I suppose it is," the female replied, tossing long silver hair from over her shoulder to her back. She was clearly agitated. "Come. Share some tea with me."

"I would be honored," Kagome stated warmly, ignoring the warning flares in her subconscious. This female was very, very dangerous. "Before that, I must see to eating. Perhaps this afternoon, if you are available." That should give her time to find and talk with Sesshōmaru.

"That time will be reserved. Come, we have matters to discuss."

"While your urgent desire for my attention is... embellishing," hunting for elaborate terms was really testing her vocabulary, "I must decline until a mutually convenient time."

"Do not misconstrue your status here," the female ordered sternly.

"I understand my status perfectly well." This female was going to be a testy one. More so than Meiling was, and Kagome expected cruel, sneaky things to come in the near future. "I will take my leave now."

It happened quickly. There was not even a feel of movement, simply pressure. Kagome blinked, her head spinning slightly, and found herself pressed against the wall by her upper chest, the eri of her kimono pulled aside.

"I was wondering about this," the female commented, a nail pressing testily into one of the bite marks in Kagome's neck, making her wince. The female took a deep, unabashed smell at her exposed skin, and sent chills through the miko. "Such a halfhearted bite. And to think that you bruised after so little. Do you possess the marks of his claws, or are you too frail to endure him?"

Angry, Kagome exhumed her ki, and the female backed off, a small smile on her arrogant face.

"You do not bear his scent intimately," the female commented as Kagome calmly pulled her clothing back into order. "That is a heinous crime for any side indulgence lover."

"If I purify her, all I have to deal with then is being a murderer," she thought bitterly. It would be so easy to lose her temper, to let words fly, maybe followed by fists, and to- Taking a calming breath, she reigned it in. Later. She would find a tree, and punch it later. In the meantime, she had to act her part. "Of course I do not bear the scent of our lovemaking. Sesshōmaru knows better than to trust the emotional stability of the females here. In fact, if I had not been found out he would not have asked me to cater to his mother's whims. Do not think so highly of yourself. Your status is not befitting of it."

Offering a small smile, Kagome continued on her way, walking past the female and hoping to not have to encounter another one again for the rest of the day. When she entered the rōka to Sesshōmaru's rooms, which was opened by a servant who spotted her, she could not help but to sigh, eager to end the first morning there.

The shōji to his rooms opened, Kagome's entrance was honored with a bow, and she stopped inside and stared at the table.

"I was uncertain as to what you would enjoy," Chiro stated as Kagome's wide eyes took in the sight. "I will learn today what your preferences are. Please, eat as you desire."

There was enough food there to feed a general and his lieutenants. And the under lieutenants, she was sure. Indeed, there was so much fruit and fish and broth that bowls were tucked under supporting platters just so as to stack food over food!

"Chiro? Do me a favor?"

"Yes, Hidenka?"

"Assess how much I eat, and only bring in that much food from now on."

Midday came, and Sesshōmaru found himself entertaining his mother's summons. He did as much because there really was nothing better to do. He supposed that, as a small benefit, a future hindrance may be sighted and eliminated thanks to the meeting.

Small chances of that happening though when he entered a room with two occupants.

"I will be brief," his mother stated, offering a calm, frigged stare. "The fact that you have announced a lover and that she is here does not forestall the mating. You are to perform your duties, Sesshōmaru, and honor your heritage by producing the next line of heirs and by giving your future lands a strong and healthy pack."

This much was obvious. It was bound to happen, and he had expected this conversation last night. Apparently it required Meiling, who stood calmly to one side, and her dismissal from his quarters to prompt his mother to point out the obvious and to order the inevitable.

"I will personally make sure that you have nothing to preoccupy your attentions between midday and three quarter's day. You will use this time as Meiling sees fit." She paused, assessing him, and smiled faintly. "You seem to be offended. Remember, Sesshōmaru, your opportunity for your father's title is exactly that, and nothing more. If you continue to toy around with your destiny, I will strike you from our history, find another mate, and sire a new line of grateful heirs. It would not be the first time such a thing happened, and I would be the youngest female to commit the act if you persist down this self-destructive path. Do not test my patience, son."

Meiling came forward then, a small, satisfied smile on her face. "Come, love," she cooed, taking his arm. "It is midday."

Kagome blinked, and glanced toward the heart of the o-shiro.

"Kagome Hidenka?"

Something felt wrong. "Do you ever get the feeling that someone you know is being served a sentence by karma?"

"Pardon?"

"Karma. As in, good things come to those with good behavior, and bad things come to those with bad behavior."

"I can not say that I believe in karma, Kagome Hidenka."

"Believing in it is an amusing pastime," Kagome commented, trying another type of fish. "Oh, this one is also very good."

"You have said that about all of the food."

"That is because it is all good." Absentmindedly, Kagome wondered how karma would get back at Sesshōmaru for how many people he had unnecessarily killed over his centuries of life. Inu-Yasha said that it was not an infrequent thing, but after Sesshōmaru's attempts on her life Kagome was hard pressed to believe the male was even good at earning that reputation.

Breakfast passed slowly, and Kagome found it difficult to draw Chiro into a conversation. The girl was proper to a fault, and it was getting a little under her skin. Making sure to eat a little more than she was comfortable with, seeing as she may be quite hungry for some meals, she regrettably finished and lamented at seeing the seemingly unchanged spread. She had eaten at least one bite of everything, and could not force down another morsel if she tried.

"You do appear weary," Chiro commented as Kagome contemplated her food baby under the restraining obi. "May I have a bath drawn up for you?"

Kagome's attention was immediately grasped. The proposition was pursued with great enthusiasm, and within the hour Kagome was lowering herself into steaming water, sighing over the warmth and relaxing with relief into the herbal water. It could smell like anything for all she cared, even minestrone soup. Just so long as they cooked her at a low simmer, she would endure the tenderizing with a languished smile and leave smelling however they wished. And speaking of 'they', the whole room was run by a separate force of servants, all of them female as per Kagome's request. She learned quite quickly that her bashfulness was easily overcome with the proper motivation. The room milled with water bearers and heaters, bathtub assistants, servants in charge of the clothes of their guests, servants who brought food and drink as needed, Kagome thought there was even an individual who specialized in the herbs she soaked in. This place was a paradise, and she began to feel guilty for all the times she wished horrible, terrible things upon Sesshōmaru. Well, most of them.

Humming to herself, she swam her hands through the water near her thighs, creating hot currents to brush her skin in a very pleasing way.

"Would you appreciate a manicure, Kagome Hidenka?"

"Oh, yes, please."

"And a pedicure?"

"Certainly."

"May I wash your hair?"

"I will not stop you."

"Would you enjoy an oil after your bath?"

"Of course."

"Would you enjoy your bath to be maintained at this temperature?"

Kagome just sighed, ready to weep with joy, and nodded in response as practiced hands began to massage her scalp and her hands and feet were handled below the hot water. This was the best day of her life.

Sesshōmaru decided that this was one of the worst days of his life. The fact that he sat naked on the edge of Meiling's futon, and that her clawed toes teased the small of his back, did not make matters any better.

"I love these dimples." Her toes skimmed across the dips above his bottom, and then disappeared as she sighed. "Again," she breathed, getting up and pressing against his back, tangling her arms around him with a content hum. "I want that again."

It was difficult to not see the benefits in a quiet life on the coast, with only one female and no demeaning obligations. Meiling pressed her claws into his skin, and the distinct feel of her biting into the side of his neck had him baring his teeth. Very difficult.

Probably a full hour later, Kagome was lounged happily on her stomach, enjoying the free massage which came with the oiling. They firmly believed that the skin required mild kneading to properly absorb the oil, and she was in no hurry to change their minds. The room was steamy and warm from her bath, and the feel of hands working intricately across her body was absolutely amazing. The only downside was the fact that she would drool if she slipped off into unconsciousness, and that would be good for no one.

Laying on his back, Sesshōmaru was uncomfortably overheated and breathing heavily from his endeavors, and Meiling draping herself over him did not help in the slightest.

"Again." She brushed a pinch of her hair across his chest, playing with his perspiration. It was amazing how little stamina fighting required, but this? "I want that again." Her cheeks were barely tinted, and she smiled happily as he glared at her. "Come now. At this rate I will not get into heat for weeks. You wish for this to be over with quickly, do you not?"

Definitely overheated.

Kagome was quite happy to be dressed in a layer of silk after her neck to toe oil massage. She would not be wearing the silk for long, merely as a comfortable cover as they tended to her hair, brushing and conditioning it, playing with the length and testing different hairstyles for her to assess. As they did that, another servant gently massaged creams into Kagome's face and under her chin, completing the massage, and brushed a wonderful smelling oil on her lips for conditioning. By the third hairstyle she was beginning to firmly believe that these inu appreciated their own, non-human approach to salon masterpieces, and delighted in inspiring her strands to curl or straighten or do whatever they chose. It had actually become something of a game between Kagome and the servants, since their main method for shaping the hair was to use a nature of yōki Kagome had never experienced before. It was, as well as she could describe it, stale, and merely served one designated purpose. They all laughed as she safely played with the yōki on her head with her ki. Sometimes she could re-shape it to a slight degree, but usually it burned away too quickly, and she stared happily in the mirror as her hair went from curls to the straight tresses she was accustomed to.

It seemed so wrong to lack that drive he had felt with the miko. Sesshōmaru lay on his front, head pillowed on his arm, and stared at his clawed hand, his body exhausted. He stared, and felt a horrible sense of emptiness inside, made worse by the weight of obligation and responsibility pressing in. It was odd. Past encounters with Meiling were insultingly personable, horribly degrading, but now things were worse. This was unnatural. He should not be in that bed with her, and the feeling was founded on reasons he could not exactly figure out. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had.

A clawed hand drew idly on his back, its owner humming lightly to herself. "You are welcome to stay the night." He did not bother dignifying that with a response. She pulled herself across his back, and looked at his face. "So stubborn." She stroked his cheek, seeking his attention, and he refused to give it. His own claws were far more interesting. "You will learn to love me. This is simply how things initially are."

Innately, he knew his time with her was at an end. One did not live for centuries without knowing the position of the sun at all times. Meiling was not disappointed when he left her bedding and dressed. Instead, she stretched, and hummed, and relaxed, watching him clothe himself. As he left, she promised to try and make things more interesting for him tomorrow.

"I wish to do that at least every other day," Kagome stated, walking at a sedated pace back for Sesshōmaru's rooms, her mood drifting in impenetrable bliss.

"As you say, Kagome Hidenka."

It was good to be labeled as a consort...

As they made their way down the rōka, Kagome sensed the master of the chambers in residence, and smiled, grateful that she really could discuss things with him before having to meet any of those females again. Chiro opened the door, and Kagome strode in with a smile, looking for the occupant. He sat, glaring at the mountain of food on his table, and was tormenting a lovely piece of melon with his claws when she entered.

"Good afternoon, Sesshōmaru," she greeted warmly. He did not bother to look up. In fact, his molestation of the food intensified a little. "You seem to be in a wonderful mood. I recommend taking a bath. You have some highly under appreciated talent in there."

Kagome stilled when he suddenly stood before her, and looked up at him. He really needed to stop startling her like that. She opened her mouth to make such a request, and found herself victim to his fervent attentions.

"This day just keeps getting better," she thought, returning the kiss and moaning a little, slowly losing herself in the pretend. He was putting on a show for Chiro, and if taking a bath taught Kagome anything, it was that servants were magnificent gossips. Speaking of though, she broke away from the kiss, wondering when he had grabbed and pulled her so firmly against him, and turned her head to regard her personal servant. "Chiro, you may-" She gasped, and giggled when he assaulted her neck with enough force to have her bending back over his arm in a sensually thrilling manner. "Privacy, please!"

The servant bowed quickly as Sesshōmaru's mouth traveled downward and began teasing the base of her throat. As he continued further, tugging the fabric from Kagome's shoulder, Chiro suddenly blinked with a small shake of her head and bowed yet again, then literally ran away. Kagome laughed at nothing in particular, chasing poor Chiro's hearing with whatever the female's imagination could come up with. Tracking her yōki, Kagome made sure they were alone before clearing her throat. "My, you seem enthusiastic."

He was. The kissing stopped, but he did not let her go. Instead, Kagome found her head being pressed under his chin, held firmly against him.

"Sesshōmaru?" she asked hesitantly. Something felt wrong, and it had nothing to do with her still bared shoulder. "Did something happen?"

"Lay with me."

Kagome frowned at the hint of a request. He was in control of himself, but for some reason his behavior worried her more this time. Slipping her arms past his waist she hugged him. "Are you okay?"

"I will be fine."

After a moment she nodded and drew away, sliding her hands down his arms and encouraging him to release her as she pulled back. There was an odd shadow on his face when she looked at him. As unfitting as it was, she felt like her hands slipped past mature wrists, only to hold the hands of a confused and misguided youth. It worried her, deeply, not knowing what proved the motivation to drive him to seek her help in ending this mating, not knowing why he sought her out now. She wanted to go through with this farce as easily and with as little emotional scarring as possible, and his indications with 'will be fine' offered small insight to some factors she was not exposed to, something she probably would not wish to be exposed to. Whatever it was, it had taken a toll on him, and he needed something. "Okay."

Before she could even think of turning and walking her own darn self to the futon, she was swept effortlessly off of her feet and carried away from the room, left to grumble about her insulted legs while secretly enjoying the feel of a strong male carrying her away. It was, over the last few years, how most of her lonely fantasies at night began.

Meiling bid her time, waiting for her unknowing little fish to swim by. Finally it did, and she cast her line. "Servant."

An older female with a whelp who was learning to walk regarded her, then hurried her burden along when Meiling shooed her off. The other female, younger than herself due to her shorter lifespan but of a maturity with Meiling, stopped, saw her, then bowed with wide eyes, remaining respectfully silent and hurrying over at the crook of a finger.

"Tell me," Meiling ordered when the female was within reach. She reeked of the miko after spending the entire day with her. "How is my alpha doing?"

He was not entirely sure why he wanted to lay with her. When she commented on sharing scents he merely nodded, accepting the excuse and finding a more willing light enter the miko's eyes at the familiarly labeled act. For a short while she tried pressing him for details, to coax information out of him. When he ignored her though, holding her closely and firmly against himself, she eventually lapsed into a long, blissful silence, and he lapsed into thought.

The miko's presence was a comfort. Not because of who she was, but more because of what she was. She complied with him. She did not pursue him, did not purposefully absorb his time, did not cling to an idea and use him as a catalyst for her ends. She was simply there, willing to see things through to a desirable end, willing to lend herself to him. There was no lust in her scent for him, no immediate demands, no expectations other than the reasonable requirements. It was refreshing, the simplicity with which she worked, and to have a female around who did not act like a female. She was effeminate, and acted appropriately when necessary, but in private she was herself. It was simple, and amazingly respectable. Also, he felt that she did not exactly see him as just a male, as a means to an end. The worry emanating from her was not for herself, and as annoying as it was to know her thoughts, it was still... nice, he supposed.

"I almost picked up that new sword of yours," she commented without warning, without cause. "Was Tōtōsai as compliant as ever in making it?"

"Hm." She was distracting him. Perhaps he needed a distraction. "He believes that his cow can outrun a daiyōkai."

"Was he sorely disappointed?"

"Indeed."

She laughed into his chest. "Has he ever even managed to hit anything with that ridiculous mallet of his?"

"Myōga, once."

The miko gasped, craning her neck to look up at him. "That's horrible!"

It might have been a slip of the tongue. Even if it was not, he was in no mood to care about her motives. Taking her face, he found that it was very endearing when she growled lightly in vexation, sorely accepting his kiss. It was silly, really, for such a simple act to be so gratifying, but it was.

Eventually, after far too few seconds, she pulled away, nuzzling into his hold again, hiding her mouth. "I swear, the further into this huge mess we get the longer the reprimand for my rare slips becomes." She emphasized that, claiming pride for the past, which had him smirking. It was strange that she – or anyone for that matter – would vehemently defend herself, dignify herself, before snuggling into the addressee's neck like a small pup seeking acceptance would.

She sniffled oddly, then flinched away from him in a hurry and turned to the opposite direction, her inner elbow over her mouth. His immense confusion was soon resolved as her entire body convulsed with a total of three steady, forceful sneezes.

"Agh!" she sighed, sniffing again.

"There is an easy way to avoid that," he informed, propping his head up while remaining on his side.

"Hm? Oh, I am certain there is. I do take pleasure in sneezing though." Self-conscious, she wiped around her nose and mouth, cleaning small spots of spittle. "It leaves me messy sometimes, and if I am in a quiet room with people around it can be embarrassing, but I find it hard to care when it just feels so good, so they can think whatever they want." She settled onto her back with a smile, tucking an arm behind her head. Her scent came to him through the oils on her skin, and it was a rich, pleasing scent. "A guilty pleasure, perhaps. I firmly believe that everyone needs that now and again in a balanced life though. I would probably go insane denying myself a good strong sneeze every time it came around."

She offered him a smile then, bright and happy, and he found himself to be in a far better mood. It was possible that she had a point. Satisfying a guilty pleasure would be phenomenal. Experimentally, he reached out to her face. The slightest shift of expression belayed confusion – she was probably contemplating over a grammatical mistake – and then slipped into surprise when he brushed hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Staring at him, she repeated his action, securing her hair and toying with it briefly, then smiled, a small blush on her face. It seemed that humans and inu shared quite a few areas of sensitivity.

"By the way," she commented, looking up. "That painting is grotesque, in its own beautiful kind of way."

"There is nothing disgusting about it."

"I beg to differ. But then again, you probably also ran around at some point in life with a decapitated head in your teeth."

"It is a flawless display of victory."

"It is gross."

"Says the human, who may fit the head of a mere lizard or bird in their mouth and nothing more."

The miko rolled her eyes. "Kami, sometimes I do not know whether to blame you being a dog, or you being male."

"How unfortunate you must feel to be neither."

The miko rubbed at her face with both hands, flustered with him. He was definitely in a better mood, and expressed his appreciation by pulling her close and nuzzling her neck. Her shrill, tickled out laugh was irrationally charming. A sensitive neck, he decided, befitted a lover very well.

Amusing him with stories about the future was a hobby the miko appeared to take great delight in. Enthusiastically she would talk about cars, jets, theme parks, restaurants, indoor plumbing, an arsenal of things Sesshōmaru had never heard of. She even rolled onto her knees once and had him questioning her sanity when she tried to enact a sort of music called metal, then thankfully only explained how opera sounded, and finally she got off of the bed and performed a little dance talking about techno and hip-hop. It did not exactly intrigue him, but he was content to watch her, enjoying her lack of restraint and the odd twists and dips she made.

"I wonder if you would risk going deaf by going to a concert," she commented, a huge smile on her face, her creatively pulled back hair a little messy after the theatrics, rebellious strands hanging around her face and ignoring her feeble attempts to brush them back, her attention entirely on what was coming out of her mouth. "The music can be really loud. Like if I were to scream my head off tirelessly throughout the colorful portion of sunset, then make it louder. I have only ever been to one concert, and I left feeling like I had cotton stuffed into my ears."

"Cotton?"

"A common phrase. I suppose it is a rather random thing to shove in your ears though." As bright and fluttery as a butterfly, she got onto her stomach on the futon at an odd angle and propped her chin in her hands. "So how much longer do you think you will live?"

He smirked, and waited for her to grow impatient. After figuring out that he was not going to answer, she pursed her lips, and thought. "Hm. You are seven hundred now, but you look..." she eyed him, studying his face, his shoulders, his chest, and his waist, "around twenty. A mature twenty. Maybe twenty-two." Mumbling incoherently to herself, she used her fingers a little, nipping her tongue at odd intervals and making her brows bend into a variety of positions. "Um... Close to three thousand years?"

"That would be a tragically young death."

Her eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Hm."

"Well... How about five thousand?"

"More."

Her eyes bulged. "S-seven thousand?" He smiled. "Ten? … No, you are messing with me now."

"Hm."

She crawled closer, staring with a horrible attempt of seriousness plastered on her face. "Was that a humored 'hm', or a confirmation 'hm'?"

"Take your pick."

Thinning her lips, she playfully smacked his chest. "Arrogant bully..."

"Hm."

"GAH!" Throwing a sour look over her shoulder at him, she soon gave up on anger, and a small smile played across her face. "IS it around ten thousand?"

"That would be a long life."

She whistled lightly, a distant look in her eyes. "I think that is longer than recorded human history." Frowning, she glanced at him. "Except maybe for the Egyptians. And the Mayans and Aztecs. And Mesopotamia. It is definitely longer than a consistent human history record, or I am fairly sure that it is. So why are there not more of you? Inuyōkai, I mean."

"Most do not have the lineage and strength to endure," Sesshōmaru commented. "For example, the average servant's life is close to eight hundred years."

"How old is the oldest living inuyōkai now?"

"The oldest living is now nearing her six thousand four hundred and ninetieth year."

The miko nodded, marveling. Then her head slowly stopped, and she frowned, then cast a sidelong look at him. "Wait. That is nowhere near ten thousand."

"When you are innately powerful, you will always be targeted," he stated. "Once I claim the title, I will be challenged for it on a regular basis."

"Hmm." She stared at her lap, clicking her thumb and a finger nail around one another. "How old was your father?"

"The late Inu no Taishō was close to four thousand years in age."

She looked so genuinely saddened to hear the fact. "Is that normal?"

"Yes."

She sighed through her nose. "Well, he got to do and see a lot more than I ever will. A human's average lifespan is only forty years in this era. In the future it will be closer to seventy."

"You will outlive your human friends then?"

Smiling, she shook her head. "It has nothing to do with breeding. I may, but it depends. I have been vaccinated against many illnesses, but that does not mean I will not die just as easily as my friends."

"That is a useless amount of time."

The miko laughed at him. "To you. We make it worth it though."

"There is no great endeavor you can achieve within seventy years."

"Hm." A wistful look entered her rich blue eyes. She had features similar to the suitor female, but they were nothing alike. "You know what I would think of as a great achievement? Helping others, having healthy children and raising a family, preparing them for life, maybe see their children born, and to die without regrets." Hugging her knees she hummed, seeming happy with the prospects of her so few years ahead of her. "It is not world conquest, but I do not need that to be happy."

"Your goals are simple."

"My goals are achievable." It was amazing how defensive she appeared. "And my life is not meaningless. If I die early, I will at least try and do so without regrets. That is the one thing I fear the most. But... life would have more meaning if I could die knowing I had someone to love, and cherish, and to protect before the end."

"Protect?" he echoed, centuries flowing back.

"M-hm." She made that silly grin again and hugged herself even tighter. "You know love if you want to protect someone. A family member, a friend, a partner, anyone. I am sure that your older sisters did not just protect you for their own means."

"Hm."

A surprising presence began to creep closer, the weak yōki tickling at Sesshōmaru's senses.

"What is it?" the miko asked when he got up and left the room, and opening the shōji to the rōka. Then looked down. It was... tiny.

"OH my kami, she is ADORABLE!"

Without preamble the miko wriggled frantically past him and hurried to kneel at eye level with the servant's pup who happened to be 'walking' their way, with her feet on the floor and her hands braced on the walls. Big purple eyes stared in open shock at the first human they had ever seen.

"Hi!" the miko simpered pathetically, radiating with the desire to touch the golden haired pup. "Oh, Sesshōmaru, why are all inu so drop-dead gorgeous?" She held out her arms. "Come here, sweetie. Did you lose your mommy?"

Said 'mommy' quietly appeared in the cracked open door at the other end of the rōka. Innate terror visibly settled on her to see the situation her tyke had gotten into. The servant was not a danger to the miko, but her blatant facial expression would most likely put the curious human on edge, which would affect the whelp in turn. Wanting to avoid the upcoming issues, Sesshōmaru offered a specific nature of yōki to those in the vicinity.

"Whoah," the miko breathed, looking back at him as his energy washed over her. "What was that?" Immediately, the pup bobbled into the now thoughtlessly extended arms, and the miko's head whipped forward, voice attaining a new squeak once more. "Aw, you are just the sweetest little thing!" Hoisting the toddling tyke into her arms, balancing her on a hip in an intriguing manner, the miko turned and bounced the pup lightly, giggling and playing with a small clawed hand that clasped her finger. Her eyes fell on the mother, and the smile fixated on her face broadened. "Is she yours?"

The servant nodded, bowing, her worries gone. The whelp was in no danger. Sesshōmaru was an impressive and powerful alpha, and it was simple to impose a sense of security on members of his pack. After walking over and delivering the pup, the miko still cooed little tidbits of adoration and nonsense, and got the tyke smiling and hiding her face repeatedly in her mother's hair and against her neck, giggling with low pitched little squeals of delight. She even pursued conversation with the servant, which surprised the female but flattered her as well. Eventually the miko tired, thanked the servant for indulging her, and came back over to Sesshōmaru, grinning madly.

"Are you satisfied?"

"No," she sighed happily, looking back at the pair making their way into the o-shiro. "Now I want one."

"You may have one, if you so desire."

"That is just cruel," she informed with a pointed look, glancing back forward and giggling as the whelp continued to stare with wide eyes over her mother's shoulder until the shōji was shut.

"You misinterpret. I would never separate a pup from its mother, and I do not freely give what is not mine. If you wish to have one, you will birth it yourself."

Her wide eyes and open expression twisted to him, absolutely shocked. "But I do not-" Her eyes bulged. "You-?" After studying his carefully executed expression, she broke out into a short fit of laughter. "Oh, your sense of humor is one to grow accustomed to."

Her response was mildly disappointing. "Hm." Yes. Satisfying an indulgence was indeed tempting. He watched as she made her way back into his chambers, freely entering his territory, and picked at the fruit littering his table. Soon her attentions fell on the wedge of melon he had humored himself with earlier, and she picked it up, proffering it to him.

"This is a horrible waste of food."

"That is hardly worth consideration as food."

The miko frowned. "It is too!"

"Then eat it."

With a dark expression, she did, her eyes never leaving his. She slurped and smacked as juices dripped down her chin, licked her soaked fingers, until all that remained was the rim.

"Ta-dah," she chimed lightly, setting the ream aside. She wiped the side of her mouth with the back of her hand, made a small 'tsk', and licked at her fingers some more. "This is so mess- Um, what are you doing?"

"Assisting."

"You are licking my fingers."

"M-hm."

"Why?"

Holding her chin, he licked the side of her mouth, which had her shuddering in his grasp. "It is only natural."

"Why? Because I am acting like your lover?"

"In part." He resumed cleaning her hand of the drying, sweet juices covering it. "Mostly, it is because you taste like food."

A small scoff escaped her. "I told you it was food. And I am never eating melon in front of you again."

"You will."

"You can not make me."

"Perhaps," he conceded, meeting her gaze. "But you will."

It was obvious that she was attempting to control her expression. Her efforts were foiled by the blush creeping into her face.

He smirked. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," she lied, her cheeks darkening further as she looked away.

"Hm." Her innocence was a tempting thing to violate. "You took a bath."

The miko blinked. "Yes."

"The servants saw you naked."

"... Why do you sound so stern? They were all females, of course they get to see me naked."

"You do not bear the proper marks of a lover." He had not considered her nudity to be an issue.

"Oh." She looked downward, thinking. "One of those females you warned me about pinned me in the hall today."

"Pinned?"

"She restrained me against a wall," the miko clarified. "And examined that bite you gave me. She called it halfhearted, and asked if I had... scratches, of some sort?"

The thought of the miko being assaulted in such a manner peeved him to some degree, but he nodded. "Proper markings."

The miko's expression fell. "I am not allowing you to mutilate me further."

He smirked. "I do not need your permission, lover."

"Sesshōmaru, no, I absolutely refuse, do not even think about it!"

"The more you resist, the more I am prone to performing the act."

The miko stared, bewildered and offended. "Then what should I say? 'I give you permission to do it'?"

"Very well."

She squeaked when he picked her up, her scent reeking of shock. "Sesshōmaru! Put me down!"

"In a moment."

"Seriously, this is going too far!" she yipped, smacking uselessly at his back.

"You swore to do what was necessary."

The protests stopped a moment. "With certain conditions, yes!"

"And the sole condition was to keep your virginity intact."

A small exclaim escaped as she fell down onto the futon. She scrambled back, and he stopped her efforts with a foot on the hem of her clothing. "Then, I make this an additional condition."

"The agreement is sealed," he stated, leaning down to her, 'pinning' her sleeves under his hands. "The conditions will remain as they are. You swore to submit to me."

Her mind churned on the facts. Eventually, she sighed, and laid back, rolling her eyes. "The least you could do is get me drunk so I do not have to register all of the pain."

Eleven shots of sake later, and Kagome had to admit that letting him see her naked chest was not the worst idea in the world.

"I swear," she slurred slightly, swaying where she sat on the edge of the futon, "this stuff... This stuff tastes pre'dy good when you can' taste it anymore."

"Are you sufficiently inebriated?" he inquired.

"Hmm..." she pulled her eri down her shoulder a ways, and pinched her upper breast firmly. It hurt, but it was a faded, distant little sting, which made her giggle over how absurdly easy it was to ignore. "Yep. Remember what I said?"

"You will not die of infection or blood loss," he assured, his absurdly formal nature making her chuckle again. What a prude. "My yōki will be suppressed, and you do not risk losing your virginity. Are you content?"

"Sure," she stated with hotter than average breath, pouring one more shot and throwing it back. Setting the cup unstably onto the tray, she flung out her arms and flopped onto her back. "Take me now, oh furry god of death." The look on his face was priceless, and she laughed as he unhurriedly disrobed her. Her cheeks were a tingly numb, and flicking them proved to be quite entertaining. She decided to try and monitor her grammar, but figured she would fail miserably. "You should feel lucky. You'll- erm, you will be the first man to see me, um, nakies. Save for my dad and doctor when I wus born and a baby, 'course."

"I am not a man."

She snorted, which produced a wave of tingles in her face. "You sure as hell look like one." She looked at him, a foggy sense of uncaring filtering her actions and thoughts. "Why do you look like this?"

Golden eyes peered at her, and a wave of desire tingled into existence, making her shift. "For convenience."

"Hm," she hummed as the kimono folded open. "You know, I never thought thiz'would ever happen."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Heh," she laughed briefly. "Tell me, is it insulting thad I wanted sake for this?"

"Will you remember these events?"

"Probably." She got up onto her elbow, clumsily grabbed the sake bottle, and drained it before he could pluck it out of her hand, which made her giggle again. Life was so funny when you were immensely tipsy. "Heh, probably not."

He inspected the empty flask, and with a frown set it aside.

"I am so gunna have a hangover," she sighed through a whine, looking over at nothing in particular. Her vision swam whenever she moved, and it made bobbing her head lightly quite entertaining. It was also making her a little sick, so she stilled and closed her eyes, sighing again, feeling tired, wondering if this would hurt as much as she expected it to. "It's sorta silly that we're doin' this. The whole facade, but this mudilation stuff too. They'll think you're super jealous or somethin', knowin' I'm walkin' aroun without your claws all over me. … I feel bad for lovers. Poor, abused bitches... And I use that term in the most accurate sense."

"Hm."

"Is there another word for after they have pups?"

"In general, it is not improper to call them a dam," he informed. "That is reserved as an insult for those of higher status."

"What about 'sire'?"

"It is acceptable, for males."

"Seesh... Words are annoying." Her nagajuban folded away, and she gave a start, remembering the sheer fabric of the only remaining layer. "Hey! I said the chest, jerk!"

"What difference does it make?"

"Quite a bit," she grumbled sourly. Oh well. It was hard to care when your thoughts kept swimming around. "I should be able to scratch you."

"If we were having sex, you would."

"We're not having sex," she stated forcefully, turning her head to look in the other direction. "That painting is gore-tacular." He ignored her, which was a little disappointing. "How long is this going to take?"

"What difference does it make?"

He bent over her, and she turned her head away and moaned as he nuzzled her neck. "Oh, kami, a hickey? That's so high school." His failure to respond left her to close her eyes and hum, and his hand cupped her hip nicely. She inhaled sharply as his claws pierced her skin, then dragged out at an angle, rending her flesh lightly.

"It hurts," she whimpered, clenching her hands into fists even as the pain subsided under the suffocating cloud of alcohol. He continued with his actions, scraping her skin to various depths and for varying lengths, making some as mirror image marks and others in random places, and she began to cry, aching in a dull way. He bit her as well, on her neck and shoulders, and dug his nails into her bottom. She was already bleeding fairly heavily when he rolled her onto her stomach, dirtying the kimono and his bedding with her weeping skin. Carelessly she moaned in protest, hissed in pain, and whimpered when his actions dug deep. She should have fought against this more. At one point she grabbed his red smeared hand, begging him weakly to stop.

"You are fine," he informed. "Do not allow the alcohol to trick you." He pulled his hand away, and pricked into her chest when he grabbed the mound of her femininity. "Do not make this any more difficult."

"How is this difficult for you?" she demanded with a mumble, feeling weary and ready to drift off if not for his constant abuse. It had only lasted for about five minutes now, but that was four minutes too long. "This' gunna hurt me for days to come. Weeks. You better be grateful, you arrogant ass, or I'll never let you live it down."

She gasped when he nipped her ear, his canine sliding smoothly into the sealed hole as the rest of his teeth pressed into her skin. "Do you recommend anything to make this experience better?"

"Not really," she replied, a little dazed. "I hear some sexual acts can turn pain into pleasure, but that isn't gunna happen."

"Hm."

The futon shifted, and as he pulled away his hair slid along her back, making her wince as it slipped through open cuts.

"I will summon an herbalist. Remain still."

"Sesshōmaru?" He was always so quiet, and in the state she was in there was not even the slightest of chances that she would be able to sense anything. So instead she sighed, and relaxed into the bedding. "Thanks for letting me get drunk. It helped a lot." And with that she allowed sleep to envelop her mind.

A/N: Phew, a full thirty-eight pages! Sorry updating this took so long! :( I hope it was worth the wait. ;) Please let me know what you thought about it! I love a good critique, so if you noticed any errors or ways for me to improve as a writer please voice your thoughts. :D Thanks for reading!