Hey, sorry for falling off the map for a while. The good news is, my rotator cuff is healing quite nicely. I'm attending physio regularly, and it's helping. I moved, with only 7 days of notice—my roof was about to collapse due to severe weather damage (I rent). Along with tackling a full time job and recently receiving a promotion, things have been hectic. C'est la vie.

Apologies for the delay. I hope this makes up for it. Thank you, everyone, for all your kind wishes with my recovery. You guys are the best :)


Dawn broke over the eastern hills, and sunlight spilled into the valley.

From inside a musty hut, the disheveled, bleary-eyed miko roused from slumber. She stretched like a cat and yawned, snuggling deeper into the covers. The chatter of birds and villagers waking kept her from drifting back off into dream-land.

Kagome sprang up like a jack-knife, panic settling in.

Today was the day of days.

Today was her day.

Nothing, and no one, would spoil it for her. She changed inside the sleeping bag, combed her hair, and brushed her teeth before assembling her things. Grogginess, along with a decent amount of weariness, threatened to hold her down. Nothing a little bit of make up couldn't fix. She only hoped she looked confident and mature. She knew she needed at least a pot of coffee to sound smart at this hour of the day.

Slinging her backpack on, she ducked under the screen door and faced the rising sun. Dew hung in the air, dampening the bottom of her jeans and sneakers as she walked along the rice field pathways. The slight chill combined with the warmth on her face was undeniably pleasant, as were the flowers which grew in the beds along the path. She didn't have much time to stop and admire. It was imperative she get home in time to freshen up; the temperature difference five hundred years made was astonishing. The summers in that period of time were scorching, compared to Japan's mild seasons. This era experienced snow each year; in her time, they'd be lucky to have a snow day near Christmas. The extremes in climate made it annoying at times to adjust her apparel when she crossed eras.

Crossing the edge of the village, she began mounting the stairs leading to Inuyasha's forest. She wouldn't be able to even ballpark how many times she had traveled to and from worlds. Those experiences began fusing together as one in her memory; blending like paint on a canvas. Blue eyes locked onto the God Tree as she neared the top; she felt compelled to stare at the obvious scar on its bark. It was the mark Kikyou gave Inuyasha, when she sealed him to the tree.

Kagome would never been able to explain it, but whenever she reminisced about that moment, it was like she was witnessing the moment through Kikyou's eyes. The image was in her mind was too vivid to be a daydream.

Shaking off the negative thoughts, Kagome approached the well, and paused. Her senses were going haywire; someone was near. It only took her another second to figure out who. A week's flown by already?

She looked around, at first unsure where he was lurking "I wasn't expecting you to see me off," she called out. It only took a single pulse of her spiritual powers to detect his youki; in a place she should've suspected.

Craning her head, she peered up through the God Tree's bows, spotting a red figure perched high above. "I didn't even know you were back."

"Stupid," he muttered. "Your head's up in the clouds like always." Jumping down beside her with ease, Inuyasha crossed his arms and sniffed. "Just wanted to wish you good luck and shit, y'know? Don't make it seem like I don't even care."

She pulled him into a hug then; surprising him, and herself. He was warm, comforting; but something was missing, and at first, she couldn't place what it was. When she felt his arms wrap around her torso in return, and sensed his comfort, the word came to her; intimacy.

This was an embrace shared between two friends.

And it was reciprocal.

Does this mean... we can move on?

"Knock them dead, okay?" he said into her hair. "If you need help, I'll come back you up. You got that?"

She pulled back and nodded. His support meant a lot to her; and until now, she hadn't realized just how much she needed to hear it from him.

Maybe he realized it first.

Two amber eyes held her gaze. "You're coming straight back once it's over, right?"

Normally, this would have infuriated her. Except, she noticed his mischievous grin, and playful tone. "I have to attend a reception afterwards. But yes, I'm coming back tonight."

"When?"

"Probably not until after sundown. Don't wait up, okay?"

"Oh, I won't be." Kagome didn't quite hear his quiet remark, and he wasn't about to repeat himself.

As if this were all the hanyou needed to hear, he bid her good luck and dashed back in the direction of the village. Such strange creatures hanyous are. The miko shook her head, scanning the clearing before jumping into the Well.


"Hey, asshole. You can come out now," hollered Inuyasha into the general vicinity. The 'asshole' failed to reply. "I can smell you lurking. Why aren't you out here in the first place?" When he was met with silence again, that's when his patience began to unravel. "You're such a bastard sometimes, y'know."

"It's obvious you need a lecture on proper etiquette, foolish brother." Sesshoumaru's disembodied voice scolded. "I am not pleased you are fondling the miko. Especially in my presence."

"Oh, shut up. You could've been the one hugging her, stupid." The hanyou sensed his brother's approach. "It wouldn't have killed ya to have said something."

"You and her friends have said quite a lot as it is. It was rather boring to listen to." His elder half-brother emerged from the forest "What else should I say to her?"

Inuyasha didn't bother hiding his exasperation. "You're so dense."

"I don't believe she would receive that well."

The hanyou stifled a groan. "Ugh. You know I meant you."

"It's pointless anyway, since she has already departed." The taiyoukai glared at the Well. "Without me."

Inuyasha growled. "Look, she can't be hauling your ass through time right now. She has too much on her plate. If she doesn't impress this 'boss' of hers, she won't be able to start her 'career,' or something."

He sensed Sesshoumaru's temper rising. Is this what he looked when throwing tantrums over Kagome leaving? No wonder everyone had gotten so sick of his attitude. It was odd to witness Sesshoumaru exhibiting a similar behaviour. "You're just gonna have to wait til she comes home. You can be a stalker all you want and keep watch. That is, if you've got nothing else better to do."

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "There is no one else worthy of my company."

The hanyou anxiously shuffled back and forth; but his words were clear and powerful. "If that's the case, then I've got something to say." With his arms crossed and his lips pursed in a semi-snarl, he mirrored someone Sesshoumaru hadn't seen in ages. Inuyasha echoed their late father in ways Sesshoumaru was noticing for the first time.

"And that is?" the inuyoukai said.

The hanyou's fiery topaz eyes flashed at him. "Are you just going to keep stringing Kagome along, or are you actually going to do something?"

The dog demon suspected he'd ask him this; he just didn't know when he'd get around to it. "Why? Are you concerned for her?"

"It's you." Inuyasha groaned. "Yes, I am concerned." To his horror, his elder brother looked pleased with this. "You're a weird bastard, y'know?"

"You are the bastard." Sesshoumaru corrected. "I am simply biding my time."

"Waiting for the 'moment to strike'?"

"Precisely."

"It's been weeks. When's this 'moment' happening?" Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha moved closer to the Well. He caught the faint remnants of Kagome's scent along the wooden structure.

Sesshoumaru assessed every movement the hanyou made, trying to understand what he might be thinking. "Once the miko's distractions are removed, I can then reveal my intentions." Why does he doubt me?

Staring into the inky blackness of the Well, Inuyasha couldn't understand why he felt guilty. It wasn't as if this were his problem anymore. He told himself it was because he didn't want the same situation happening to Kagome again. And that meant facing a hard fact. "She might just stay over there permanently if she gets this 'job' thing. What're you going to do then?" He regretted saying it straight after. The unmistakable surge of youki told him what he needed to know. "You can't pin her down where she doesn't want to stay. I've tried that. It'll push her away."

"I will convince her otherwise," Sesshoumaru replied haughtily. He cast a scorching look at his sibling when Inuyasha snorted

"Said every other person who tried changing her mind. And trust me, they failed... I failed. No one can tell her what to do." Noticing Sesshoumaru was staring at the Well, Inuyasha sighed. "I don't even think that thing will let you through. She's just being optimistic. It's always just been me and her." Without meaning to, Inuyasha felt his cheeks turning red; he stared at his toes, hiding his profile.

Sesshoumaru chose to ignore this. So, he threw his brother off. "She mentioned the Well may recognize her connections with others. Would you know if I am of considerable value to her?"

Inuyasha blinked several times, wondering if he was hearing his half-brother correctly. "Did you just ask if I think you're good enough for her?" he blurted, then snickered. "Having some self-esteem issues lately, brother?"

Inuyasha managed to catch Sesshoumaru's brief grimace. "I simply seek affirmation, brother. My merits are not in question here."

"Keh, I'd really like to say no to that." The hanyou started, but found himself losing the desire to taunt him further. The urge to be forthcoming was strong. He kept his eyes fixed on the Well. "You capture her attention entirely—without saying anything. When she comes back after hanging around you, she shines. She doesn't even trash talk you anymore, something we all loved doing before. You've also refrained from killing her, even if she can get a little crazy sometimes." He threw in the last bit to keep it the mood from getting too heavy. He wasn't into confiding in anyone, let alone Sesshoumaru.

"She's gaining her confidence back, and she's not as moody as she used to be. I..." He choked a little for effect. "I think I have to admit... you might be...doing some good for her."

Up until this point, both brothers had mostly avoided eye-contact. It made things too personal; too vulnerable. Given the scars that would forever mar their memories, Inuyasha had to acknowledge their progress over the last few years. He'd never known what it was like to grow up with a sibling, let alone even someone he could rely on, who was an adult figure in his life. He'd had his mother, and when she passed away at his tender age, no one was left to guide him. He grew up not knowing he had a half-sibling somewhere—someone who could've helped him when he needed it most. Not until he turned thirty, and ran into Myouga and Totousai, did he learn anything about his family.

It tore a piece within him that day. When they told him Sesshoumaru wanted nothing to do with him, Inuyasha felt a little colder inside ever since. He never shared that with anyone, not even Kikyou. All those years of hating his brother for outright neglecting and abandoning him, had provided some warmth to the cold spot. But it was never enough. And eventually, Inuyasha got tired of chasing the flame that would always die. Exhausted of fighting for the wrong things, and the wrong reasons, just to feel a little something inside.

When they finally glanced in each other's direction, a mutual feeling passed between them. Camaraderie. A piece of him he'd never known he'd been missing had been clumsily shoved back into place. He wondered if Sesshoumaru sensed it, too.

"I appreciate your insight. Be assured I mean to treat Kagome the way she deserves to be." With a slight nod in Inuyasha's direction, Sesshoumaru headed towards the forest.

Perplexed, the hanyou started after the demon, but was stopped by an icy stare. Guess the fuzzy moment's over, the hanyou thought.

"You're not going to wait for her?"

"I have a strong feeling she will be very successful in her endeavours this evening. She said she'd return by sundown. I will return then. Feel free to remain vigil in my place."

As the taiyoukai disappeared, Inuyasha had to wonder whether he'd actually seen the grin on his face.


It was happening.

It was actually happening.

Sitting at her night-stand, Kagome couldn't stop smiling to herself in the mirror. As she created loops in her hair with the curling iron, she went over how she hoped the evening would go. Of course, everyone would gather to her quaint section in the silent auction! And they would obviously praise and compliment her work; maybe even a few would stare in awe. She might even get a promotion after this, to boot!

She paused, worrying her lower lip.

But... there was also the possibility of no one even batting an eye at her display. Maybe they would hate it. Or not approve. Worse! They might ridicule her style!

Frowning, she finished the last loop, then proceeded to douse herself in a copious amount of hairspray.

Descending the stairs, the miko spied her mom at the bottom of the steps, smiling. "That colour blue is lovely on you." Kagome wore a royal blue knee length dress, which fit snugly to her curves, and accentuated the angles of her collarbones. The shoulder straps were spaghetti thin, and thankfully she was spared from having to wear a bra with it.

Kagome's mom fussed over her relentlessly the moment she stepped downstairs, finding little imperfections and correcting them promptly.

She hummed, playing with her hair. "You put on too much hairspray, dear."

"My curls won't stay in place without it," Kagome whimpered.

Her mother tutted softly. "There are creases in the fabric, sweetheart. Did you even hang up your dress after you bought it?"

Her mom teased her hair with nimble fingers, smoothing out any tiny knots she found. "Er. Not really," Kagome said sheepishly. "It's been in a pile of laundry since I've been gone."

"Well, let me throw it in the dryer. Also, the shade of lipstick you're wearing isn't quite your colour, hun. Perhaps you should try something in my makeup case." Her mom pointed to her shoes. "And I don't think they're a match for your dress, darling."

It boggled Kagome's mind how blunt her mother had gotten in a few years. She wasn't a teenager any more—her mother didn't have to pretend around her, or Souta, any longer.

Sheltering them, and being their shield from the real world, was something she wasn't able to keep doing.

This meant understanding just how brutal her mom could be when being honest, this time without her filter. Kagome had treated her mom differently after her first, and nastiest, break-up; so it wasn't as if she deserved her mom to pull any punches with her.

So, with this in mind—and since she was the best daughter in the world—she didn't say another peep. She accepted her mom's robe and changed out of her dress. Then, she marched to her mom's room and into her small walk-in closet. Eyeing the array of lovely sandals and stilettos, the miko had a hard time making up her mind at first. She spied a pair of ivory coloured pumps, only three inches long, and couldn't resist. She tried them on, and instantly loved them. Moving to her mother's armoire, she sampled her lipsticks and glosses, settling on a coral coloured shine gloss.

When she came back down, her mom offered her back the dress. Kagome gestured to the shoes and lips. "I picked these."

"I had that pair in mind as well. And that shade is absolutely perfect with your complexion." Her mom smiled. "Great minds think alike. Now, hurry and get changed. I'll drive you." She shooed her in the direction of the washroom, passing her dress back.

"Oh, mama, you don't have to do that," Kagome said as she entered the bathroom.

Through the door, her mother replied, "It's your night, my darling. Relax, have a few drinks while you're there. They do that sort of thing at these fancy galas, right? Serve free wine?"

She couldn't hold down her laughter. "Thanks, mom."

"I am just so proud of you, Kagome," her mom said earnestly. After a beat, she then said, "Your father would've been proud, too."

Her chest squeezed, and she heart thundered in her ears. "I... hope so," she whispered.


She should have been expected to see this many people—considering how well known her boss's company was—but she couldn't mask her shock. A queue of people, all exceptionally good-looking and dressed to the nines, wrapped around the building. Parked from across the street, Kagome ogled the colourful array of outfits the ladies wore, and stared at the handsome men in tuxes. They would be participating in the auction tonight, and maybe, one of them might choose her. She wouldn't know until after the auction's events were over if someone had made a claim on her work. The only thing she could do for now was to get them to notice her.

Psyching herself up, she kissed her mama goodbye and stepped out of the car. The breeze was cool on her skin, as it gently swept through her hair; her stomach knotted and her mouth felt dry. Whatever ominous feeling she was getting just now, she had to assume it was her anxiety talking; there wasn't a threat in the gala, other than the fear in her own heart. Despite her pale expression, Kagome put on a weak smile, and approached the grand building, heels clicking on the asphalt.

She flashed her access pass to the attendant at the door, who gave her a glass with pink liquid as welcome, and was ushered into the main lobby. The opulent room held at least a hundred guests comfortably; a double winding staircase on either side of the room, had signs indicating it led to the featured event. The chandeliers illuminated the place with a golden light, highlighting just how shiny everything inside of it was. People chatted in groups around tables with open champagne bottles, while some hovered about the mini bar in the far right corner of the lobby. Many were stuffing bite-sized snacks by the catering tables, and filling up on the deserts at the sweets station. She felt curiously out of place just standing by herself, and attempted to spot anyone who looked even remotely familiar.

Unfortunately, Mr. Tsukihaku was either running late, or already upstairs in the gala.

Sniffing her peach smelling drink, she took a sip, enjoying its sweetness as she swished it in her mouth. As soon as she finished it, a waiter replaced it with another. Kagome didn't argue, and swigged that down as well. She needed all the liquid courage she could get, and accepted her third drink graciously. When no one offered her a fourth, she decided to act. Hoping the gala had an open tab in place, the miko made her way over, noting she was feeling a little heavier than before. Which was a good thing, considering her worries over the auction were slowly fading into the background.

The bartender, who had lively green eyes, gestured to her. "What can I get for you, miss?"

"Pardon me, is this an open bar? I left my wallet at home."

He couldn't be that much older than her, yet she sensed he was wise beyond his years. He pursed his lips. "I'm afraid not, miss. However, I can offer you another house drink."

Kagome nodded. "That would be great, thank you." She gladly accepted another rosy pink drink and sat on the bar stool.

"Have you been upstairs yet?" the bartender asked.

She glanced apprehensively toward the stairs. "No," she whispered.

"Not yet."

He poured a drink for another guest, methodically cleaning the bar table between serving. "Is there anyone here you're going to bid on?"

"Actually, I'm hoping someone bids on me," she said into her drink. His eyebrows shot up. "One of my pieces is on display up there. But I'm scared no one's even going to look at it."

"I'll just have to take a look then, right?" He generously refilled her glass with more of the house drink. "What's your name, miss?"

"Higurashi Kagome." Something about the man's grin suggested he'd already known that. She felt warm all of a sudden, and now her dress felt a little too tight.

"I'll be sure to look for your display, Miss Higurashi. Who knows? You may get more attention than you think."

With a conspiratorial wink, the bartender moved toward the liquor cabinet. He selected an expensive looking bottle. "Looks like they're about to start. Here, this one's on the house. You know, for the nerves." He served her a double shot of tequila with a lemon slice. She surprised him and swished back the bitter alcohol without grimacing.

"Thanks," she said.

"Don't be scared," he said. "There's bound to be someone who will want it."

The miko heaved a giant sigh, and stared at the intimidating gala doors. "All right. Let's do this."

She then headed towards the staircase, feeling a bit more confident than before. And definitely more light-headed. Kagome concentrated on schooling herself into what she hoped resembled composure, and ascended the staircase, one wobbly step at a time. Why did she not mention to the bartender she was already a few drinks in? He wouldn't have served her that much. She might just horf up in front of everyone because of her need to drown out her anxiety—which would, ironically, make her even more anxious.

Damn it. Today was her day. She can't allow herself to be swallowed by fear and ruin the entire evening.

Besides, at least she knew one person would notice her display. That had to count for something.

Taking deep, even breaths helped her reach the top of the staircase. Now, she just needed to keep the room from spinning long enough to find her booth. She located the gallery's floor plans and found her booth number, silently thanking the coordinator for putting her near the entrance. The miko held her head high and squared her shoulders, finding her place easily enough among the throng of people buzzing around the displays.

Kagome scrutinized her canvas, wondering how people would appraise—or ridicule—her art. She chose this one because of how surreal she felt just by looking at it; because no one else would be able to feel the way she did when they looked at it.

He stood on the hilltop overlooking a vast meadow, bathed in the waning, crescent shaped moon's light. Even blanketed in darkness, Sesshoumaru was a beacon in the shadows. His profile was slightly obscured in shadow, yet the moon upon his forehead remained visible. Tenseiga and Bakusaiga each glinted radiantly in his hands. Thunder clouds rolled by, disturbing the otherwise serene atmosphere. Other than touching up the contrast, she had made no other adjustments; she felt the original needed no augmentation. Sesshoumaru himself needed no modifications.

To everyone else, he was a mythical creature she created.

But to her, he was real.

She hoped the guests here would understand why she portrayed him in such a way. It was true she once thought of him as a tempered beast with no capabilities of showing any compassion; as a monster with no pity; a demon with no soul. Her perspective of him had changed in such a drastic way, and all within a short amount of time, that sometimes it was hard to completely let go of the past she shared with him. Now, all she could focus on was his portrait, and what made him so unique and beautiful and strange.

At the end of the day, all she really wanted was to be recognized—she could care less at this moment whether someone actually bid on her.

Standing before her work, there was a dizzying sense of overwhelming pride which refused to leave her heart. Maybe it was the alcohol granting her this intense sense of courage; nonetheless, Kagome used it to her advantage. As guests flitted about the expansive gala, Kagome smiled and politely bowed to each who even inclined their head slightly toward her display. This caught the attention of most, and some even paused long enough to glance at her art with a smidgen of curiosity.

In this industry, she was basically nonexistent. Mr. Tsukihaku had made it clear these guests frequented these galas on a regular basis; often times outbidding each other to extreme lengths just for sport and a quick ego boost. Her fellow artists gathered in this event had years, even decades, of experience. All were extremely well known in the artist community. She was just a baby to them. To be noticed by someone in this gallery would be a major leap for her career. If someone noticed her. She was standing in a room filled with celebrities, after all, and she was the rookie.

Mr. Tsukihaku believed in her enough to give her this opportunity. She couldn't spoil it by thinking negatively on her callowness—she had to find a way to make it work in her favour. To make them like the new kid on the block somehow.

"Miss Higurashi! I'm sorry I'm late," bellowed Mr. Tsukihaku from the foyer, as he sprinted up to her booth. "Traffic is just awful this time of night. So, how're you feeling?"

Kagome frowned. "A bit unsure of it all. I don't fit in here; nothing about me right now says I belong in this place." It hurt to hear just how truthful those words were. Was he really confident she could garner these people's attentions?

"Don't go feeling down on yourself before this thing even starts. You have just as much potential, and just as much of a right, to be here. I wouldn't have allowed you to come if I thought otherwise." He patted her shoulder. "I'll be mingling if you need me," he said, disappearing into the throng of patrons.

Forcing her shoulders to relax, Kagome figured she could at least enjoy herself, if nothing else. She might as well make the most of it while she was here, whether anyone stopped to see her, or not.

Given how many drinks she'd had, Kagome presumed she'd be stammering and making a total mess of herself. It was surprisingly easy to reach out and engage with the guests, and some even stayed and made idle chit-chat over her art. Each time one guest would wander off, another would take its place, as if they were taking turns in seeing her booth. Before she knew it, the miko lost count on how many stopped and remarked upon her canvas. There was still one person she was waiting on, and she told herself she wouldn't leave until he came upstairs.

Half of the night whirled by; Kagome was convinced she must have met nearly the entire guest list by that point already. She was good at remembering faces, and could recognize nearly every single one who shuffled past. None of them where who she was looking for, though.
Mr. Tsukihaku rounded back over to her table, with what she counted was his fourth drink, cradled in his hands.

"You're doing an excellent job making yourself likable, Miss Higurashi. The whole gallery is buzzing about you," he slurred.

"Good things, right?"

He hiccuped. "Oh, the best of things! You're bound to get a high bidder, no doubt about it!"

Hope swelled in her breast, but she quickly snuffed it down. She couldn't get her expectations up. Not until she confirmed there was a bid on her. Until then, she had to assume people were merely window shopping until this point. It was the only way she could prepare herself for the possibility of disappointment.

"Don't look so glum." Mr. Tsukihaku cheerily smiled. "I have reasons to believe luck is in your favour tonight, Miss. Higurashi." He tipped his drink in her direction, then polished it off. "I'll meet up with you later."

Kagome nodded and stood, frozen, by her display. What he said was supposed to make her feel better. For some odd reason, she dreaded the outcome of the evening; so much it made her stomach churn.

"Looks like you could use a pep talk," said a familiar voice.

Whipping around, Kagome smiled at the bartender hovering near the next booth, nursing a glass of some blue drink. "It took you long enough to show," the miko chided.

"You thought I wouldn't show?"

She glanced away. "Well, you just kept me waiting long, is all."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I wanted to see it." His gaze slowly slid away from her, resting now on her canvas. His expression portrayed a sense of fondness and familiarity, as he scanned the photograph briefly. "Truly something else, isn't he?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Kagome agreed. She stiffened."Wait, did you say 'he'?"

"Miss Higurashi! I'd like for you to meet a dear friend of mine." Mr. Tsukihaku hollered from somewhere amidst the conglomeration. She spotted him making his way over, closely followed by an elderly man, complete with the cane, and powdery white hair. "Mr. Kurisuguto, this is the prodigy I was telling you about."

The miko hid her astonishment. When did Mr. Tsukihaku start referring to her as his 'prodigy'? Must be the liquor talking.

"Ah, I have heard about you, Miss Higurashi," said Mr. Kurisuguto.

"The whole gallery is talking about your display."

Kagome noted that the bartender was quietly assessing the situation, his sharp, verdant eyes focused on the elder man. She couldn't discern what he might be feeling; his rigid countenance held no room for weakness. She sensed something amiss, although failed to recognize where the threat actually was. She chalked it up to her anxiousness being the cause of her discontent; after all, it wasn't as if she were in a room full of demons.

When she still hadn't thought of a reply, Mr. Tsukihaku swooped in to save her. "She's new to this, but she'll adjust to it just fine."

Mr. Kurisuguto hobbled over to her display for a closer look, pulling out his spectacles and leaning in awfull close to the canvas. His expression gave nothing away as he evaluated her portrait. "May I ask what inspired you to pursue this type of genre, Miss Higurashi?"

Kagome released a breath she'd been holding. Oh good, I question I was hoping for.

"Since middle school, I've been fascinated by the Warring States Era and it's folklore. I recently found a friend who's into cosplaying, so we've been collaborating. He wants professional photos done, and I need someone to model for me." She said this so smoothly, it didn't feel like much of a lie any more.

"Hm. I, too, am an admirer of Feudal Japan," Mr. Kurisuguto said casually. "Although, if this is based off of folklore, may I ask which one this is? I am not familiar with it."

Does he want to know about Sesshoumaru's back story?

"Oh, um, of course you can. It's about a dog demon from the Warring States who occupied the Western lands. His father was slain by a dragon demon, and so he was responsible for upholding his family's honour and becoming General. He was considered the most powerful demon of his time." The fact that he wasn't looking at her like she had two heads was relieving. Except, his quizzical expression suggested he was curious about something else.

"Where did you find this fable?" he asked. "This is the first I am hearing of it. And I assure you, I have read nearly every folklore there is on that era."

Kagome faltered, unsure of what to say. This was a first, all right.

"Um, perhaps you might have missed this one?"

Mr. Tsukihaku looked about ready to keel over. "My apologies, Mr. Kurisuguto. Miss Higurashi must be confused on which era she is referring to. Of course no one knows more about it than you."

She felt her eye twitch, and the heat in her core rising and spreading throughout her body. But she kept her mouth shut, and let her boss talk her out of the jam she put herself in. She'd deal with his reprimanding later. For now, she had to bounce back from her stumble, even if it meant conceding to a rich, snobby old man who might bid on her portrait.

Once Mr. Tsukihaku and Mr. Kurisuguto strolled away from her display, she released a long, weary sigh.

"Rich people are most certainly rude," the bartender said, sauntering up beside her. "You clearly know what you're talking about. Why did you let him think he was right?"

She shook her head. With the amount of alcohol she'd had, and given how nervous she was, she couldn't trust herself to say the right thing. She couldn't let anyone know her secret. If it meant taking a little bit of a blow to her ego, so be it.

"Because... I did mess it up. The eras, I mean. I-I didn't mean to reference the wrong era, I just wasn't thinking, is all." Why did she feel so teary? The inability to swallow due to her cotton mouthwas nearly unbearable, and with the bartender witnessing her near-breakdown, it was almost too much. "Look, it doesn't really matter. As long as he likes it."

She peered up at him, startled to see he was smiling. "I didn't know you to not have a backbone about things, Miss Higurashi. You would've chewed him up and spat him out before."

"I'm not the same as before," she admitted, wondering what he'd meant by his earlier comment. "I can't mess this up. This is my chance to be noticed."

"But not your only chance," he rebuttled. "There are plenty of other galleries to attend. Don't worry, if you need me, I can bartend at those locations, too."

She smiled, finding herself feeling a bit lighter. His smile was contagious, and his laugh was so nostalgic, she nearly forgot all about her apprehension.

"Look, all I'm saying is, he's not the only one here who's a rich snob. I'm sure another one will stroll by and bid on you. And he won't insult your knowledge medieval Japan." He checked his watch and swore. "I've got to get downstairs. My shift's not over yet, and my favour is about to expire. Break a leg, Miss Higurashi." He flashed her another smile before taking off.

All the bartender's encouragements, and his motivating advice, was lifting her spirits up. And she hadn't even gotten his name. Stupid, stupid priestess. She scolded herself, and made a mental note to make a trip back to the bar before heading home. The least she could do was thank him. And tip him generously.

The evening came to a gradual climax. Patrons shuffled out of the gallery in small groups, lingering long enough to chug back another drink. Kagome waited along with the rest of the artists for the auction results, knowing it'd be at least an hour before they determined the highest bid on each display.

She chose not to converse with her fellow artists, and instead took solace by a small table filled with delicious looking catering food. She sampled almost all the dishes by the time they announced the results at come in, when she was half-way through engulfing a cheesecake smothered in strawberry jelly sauce. Now she just had to wait for her boss to return with the results.

She hated waiting; there was nothing more infuriating than prolonging the inevitable. Rushing into things took the edge off the anticipation of the unknown, although often it lead to poor outcomes.

Reminding herself to keep calm, Kagome enjoyed more of her meringue pie, furtively looking about the room for any sign of an announcement. The time alone allowed the chance to reflect; on the forefront of her mind tonight, was if she could make whatever she shared with Sesshoumaru work. How she would handle being pursued by a demon lord, with an odd fascination of stalking her and berating her passions?

But, he wasn't always like that. Sometimes, he has sort of kind. In the only way Sesshoumaru knew how to convey it. He'd help her through some difficult thoughts, and guided her down uncertain paths; she couldn't deny there was an intense desire to keep him near. It mattered not to her the pain he inflected upon her in the past. Like her, he'd changed; metamorphosed into something... decent. Over time, she noticed he was someone who she could actually start to like. A person who no longer caused icy shivers to crawl down her spine at the mention of his name. There was a point where she was more of afraid of the inuyoukai than of Naraku himself; the spider youkai made a point of toying with her life. Sesshoumaru simply couldn't have cared less if she became collateral damage or not.

I've had too much to drink, and the pressure is just getting to me. She noted with scorn her drink was empty, and cursed under her breath when she realized she really didn't need another one. Her mind was fuzzy and the world was on an angle. It was a good thing her mom was a phone call away from picking her up—she hadn't wanted Kagome to worry about getting home. So she continued to sit at the table and snack, making paper airplanes out of the venue's catering selections for the event. By the time she had made six, only five minutes went by. She tested her airplanes our one by one, mindful not to hit any of the guests. Tucked away from most of the crowd, she was able to shoot them out without being spotted. The last one she threw drifted out into the lobby.

Mr. Tsukihaku rounded the corner, her airplane crumpled in his hand, the other rubbing at his eye. "Miss Higurashi, please tell me this doesn't belong to you!"

Kagome pretended not to notice her defective planes scattered about her table. She left her seat and approached her boss. "Did you get any news yet?" Even when he was attempting to look indignant, she could see there was a flicker of something in his eyes that inspired hope.

"First of all, an established photography does not make paper airplanes at exclusive galleries. Second—" he halted abruptly.

Suddenly, he broke into a giant grin. "You managed to get one of the highest bids of the evening!"

Kagome stood, stock-still, internalizing this information. For a fleeting moment she couldn't understand if what he'd said had been a fabrication of her imagination—some sort of hallucination, even.

"I... don't understand." Kagome breathed slowly. In. Out. She tried not to shake. "Exactly, um, how much... was the bid?"

When Mr. Tsukihaku stalled, she nearly lost her balance. "Maybe you should sit back down. You're looking a little pale." He guided her back to the table and sat opposite of her, brimming with poorly suppressed excitement.

"Your bidder..." He let the sentence hang a second. He whispered, speaking clearly and slowly. "Your bidder put forth a generous amount of 6 million dollars. He outbid everyone by nearly four times the initial amount it was auctioned for."

It felt like her heart had lurched out of her chest. "That... that means..."

"This could only mean you won Mr. Kurisuguto's interest! This means you're going to be attending more galleries, and opens you up to do your own commission works."

Despite experiencing this in real time, the miko was unable to believe this was all happening now. With the last couple of years consisting of nothing but healing from past wounds, the prospect of having something go her way was almost... inconceivable.

She needed a fan. Or a bucket of ice. Maybe just a trip to the North Pole. The room was too stifling; the air conditioning was doing absolutely nothing to combat the heat radiating from all of the guests in the building.

"Calm down, Kagome. Look at me. I know this is a lot to process," Mr Tsukihaku said, reassuringly patting her shoulder. "These things happen—will continue to happen to you, because you're doing all of the right things. You impressed a very important man, Miss Higurashi. Do not let this opportunity to become better slide."

It as probable that the liquor in her boss's system was responsible for all of the heart-to-heart speeches that evening. It didn't matter to her, though. What he said felt genuine and true—and with him constantly encouraging her, and pushing her to become greater, how could she accuse him of any malcontent?

"I just... I understand this is the best thing to have happened to me in a long while," she said at length. "But... I can't help but feel that Mr. Kurisuguto didn't like me all that much."

"Don't be ridiculous. He is the only one in the gallery this evening capable of putting that amount of money on an artist he appreciates. You need to understand you have potential, and he since he is a sensible man, he recognizes that."

Despite her boss's convincing statement, the miko still pondered. She thought over the scenario, and remembered there was something she wanted to say to Mr. Tsukihaku.

"I was the one who was right," she blurted, catching her boss off guard. Through the pounding in her skull, the tightness in her chest, Kagome voiced her thoughts. "You told him I was confused about the eras, but I was right. And... it's not right for you to side with him, just because of his wealth. I know you want to have someone bid on me, but I don't like being called a liar."

He mumbled something back, clutching his abdomen with a nauseated expression. Determining Mr. Tsukihaku was too inebriated to fully comprehend what she was trying to convey, Kagome bid him goodnight and thanked him for allowing her into the gala. Because she was now six million dollars richer, and still doubted Mr. Kurisuguto was indeed as charitable as her boss believed. But whom else could slap down that kind of dough on her in a single evening? Weren't most banks closed at this hour, anyway? Who just had that much money lying around to spend on a photograph? Kagome belatedly came to the realization this is exactly what Mr. Tsukihaku meant when he said she was among the some of the richest people in the country. Their frivolous spending habits made them come across as conceited and entitled—but this was absolutely unheard of.

As she made her way out of the gallery and down the winding staircase, Kagome sweeped the downstairs reception area with a detailed eye, frowning when she didn't spot the bartender anywhere. She speculated, there was a chance the current bartender could inform her of his whereabouts.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to make eye contact. "Pardon me, sir, but I was hoping you could tell me where the bartender you relieved went off to?"

Partially turning around, the man, who was shorter now that she was flush against the bar table, scoffed. "He took off in the middle of his shift again. Said he had to 'see an important friend.' If I had a nickel each time he gave me that excuse."

The crabby man went about collecting neglected, half empty drinks and filling up the washing machine. When he failed to follow up with anything more, Kagome thanked him and slid away from the bar, trying to hold in her frustration.

She took her cell phone out of her purse and dialed her mom, having a difficult time keeping her voice from cracking.

There was absolutely no reason for her to be upset—at least, that's what she'd tell herself when she faced her mama. Once the cat was out of the bag, her mother would probably have a heart attack from pure excitement. This would help pay for the medical bills left over from their grandfather's consecutive surgeries, pay off her college debt, and clear up the mortgage on the house and shrine. Not to mention, put Souta through a great university, get her mother to finally retire, and give her grandpa a decent funeral when the time would come.

Before she had a chance to exit the building and greet the cool evening breeze, a sudden tap on her shoulder caused her to nearly jump out of her pumps. When she spun around to confront whomever startled her, she noted it was the short bartender, looking quite sheepish and docile now.

"Excuse me, miss. There is a message for you." He bowed shallowly. "Pardon me for being rude earlier." Then, he darted away, lost in the crowd.

Flummoxed, the miko tore into the envelope and unfolded the note.

'If you want to know who actually bid on you, meet me at the place where it all started when you get back.'

She examined the small piece of paper curiously, questioning its legitimacy.

Tucking the message into her purse, Kagome took a deep, steadying breath before finally exiting the building.


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