Sesshomaru moved tensely. The gait of a vexed demon. He muttered vile things, wishing the Miko terrible nightmares, for he knew she slept soundly amongst demons tonight.

He walked on, up and down steps, along corridors, sometimes turning right and sometimes turning left, climbed a staircase,—caught two lovers in secret passion—crossed the length of a hallway, till at last, he arrived at the north wing.

The fragrance of rose was strongest in this hall.

Sesshomaru stopped at a door. Silence lay all over, as if the walls themselves were in wonder of him being there. He did not stand at this door often, and here he debated.

Myoga's advice had left much to be despised. He was told to speak kindly to Kagome, to handle with care, appeal to her better nature. Hearing this had put the nastiest snarl in his throat. The words hurt him deeply. But there are worse hurts—Reiki, in particular. The angry burn under a long sleeve was evidence of this.

Eventually, pride gave way to need. He slid back the door and entered.

Perfume heavy in the air, the room had been furnished by a lover of all things beautiful. Amongst her glare and glitter, her fine tables and chairs, Inukimi regarded Sesshomaru from behind the rim of her cup.

She would leave soon. Business this time, and deep into human colonies judging by the leather pouches on the table. Demons didn't value gold and silver like humans. But money buttered them up, made them real friendly-like and kept Miko and Monk at ease.

"Have you enough?"

"I believe so," she replied, "but that is not why you're here."

"No. It's not. Kagome is… difficult."

"Hn?" Inukimi set her cup down. "You thought she would easily submit?"

"No longer," he said. "Still, I don't want the responsibility."

Inukimi's laugh was high and bright. "You have a dragon of all beasts, but a girl is what sends you to your mother at the darkest hour."

Here Sesshomaru put on a great performance. He remained utterly impassive. Nothing in his eyes, nothing on his skin revealed any emotion.

"... I like A-un."

"It seems you're only capable of liking those who appeal to your ego. And even then, you dislike most. A nasty quirk, if you ask me."

Sometimes quiet is violent.

"I've been reading," said Inukimi, "about humans."

"A daring pastime for you."

It was like looking into a mirror, seeing his smirk on her face. Time might reveal more of his father's features, till then he was all her.

"You're going about this the wrong way."

Of course, she breathes. "Explain."

"What you're using her for… it's a gross misplacement of her talents."

"I'm doing my best with what was rudely given. And is she not mine? My slave? According to the law—"

"The law does not imply slave labor. It implies allegiance. I told you, having a Miko is unprecedented. Her being here under our claws, and not at them, that is." Sesshomaru perked a bit. "Yes. I know about that."

"What then… what do you want me to do with her?"

"Keep her near and become familiar with her. You spend a lot of time in the stables doing Kami all. Take her with you."

He listened to these words in the way a man prays when lying on his deathbed. Kagome at his side, and not left to toil, meant he would never know a moment's peace.

"I will not."

"You will."

"... mother."

"Say yes, Sesshomaru."

Her command was enough. Only to her, his mother, would he yield this way. Until his fifth century and not a day later. He submitted with damaged but princely grace, enduring the rare demand as one would endure a painful tooth extraction.

"Cheer up… if you can. I won't have you descending into a fit of despair and brooding more than your usual self." Too late. He glared miserably at her. "Besides, this endeavor will make you more perfect than what you already are."

"Your will be done," he said, pure acid. "But do not patronize me."

"Oh no…" Inukimi stood, Sesshomaru taller still, a head above her. "Don't you patronize me."

Looking down at her triumphant expression had a depressing effect on him.

"By the way," she started, casual as ever. "Have you practiced grappling lately? The contests are nearing."

"No need," said Sesshomaru, more rasp than voice.

Inukimi sat and took her cup. "Yes, well... you being the lightning flash that you are, this time your opponent is an expert grappler." She sipped her tea. "... skilled with a blade too."

Sesshomaru scoffed. She must be joking. Neither in her or his father were there any deficiencies. None in the generation before them either, and especially not in him. He always won with a perfect score, just as his parents had. He was keen with a sword, with no equal in hand to hand combat. And in his true form, Sesshomaru was quick and cunning; an elusive blur of white that baffled and slashed, leaving rivals bleeding and snapping teeth on empty air.

"Are you finished?"

Her warning ignored, Inukimi let him wait so it might sink in. It did not. Hard lessons were in store for the dog who refused to fight like one. Such as a cat when seized by prey, he might not know how to react to it. And should he fall, though he'd inherit everything still, he would never know honor again. The scorn of every dog will be against him, the sneer of every ally.

"I suppose I am," his mother said. Then, she uttered something that darkened his face and promptly swung him around and towards the door. "Are you so bitter that you will not return what is owed?"

He stopped but did not turn.

the moody nonsense she tortures me with.

He felt her condescending smile on his back. It sent a twitch down his fur. He might swallow his tongue if it meant never saying it again.

She called him, a croon in her voice.

Sesshomaru snapped about, his hair swinging around him. He delivered what she wanted in his bitterest deadpan, and then he was gone, cringing and walking tensely all the way out the door. It always keyed him up and ruffled his fur, expressing his love verbally—much to the amusement of his mother.

She accepted him for what he was long ago, after learning his nature was not a matter of growing pains. There were traces of emotion in him. That she believed. But as Sesshomaru would tell anyone himself, he knew nothing about it.

A/N:

Sorry, Sess but

"There are a few, uh, provisos. Ah, a couple of quid pro quos…"

"No refunds, and no exchanges or substitutes."

-Genie, Disney's Aladdin.