Convivial

Chapter 14: Tell A Fairy Tale Day

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Inu Yasha

She stared her professor down long and hard, hoping she was doing a decent imitation of her roommate. However, she was guessing her professor had endured similar looks, especially given the dean's reputation. It wasn't working.

"You can't use it unless you have the source cited. I've never read this or heard of anything like it. For all I know you made it up," The older man blustered angrily.

This was her thesis adviser? This man, someone she spent innumerable hours working with on the net and in person, was accusing her of making something up? Of lying?

She saw red.

"I have never had my integrity questioned, and I have never been so insulted before," She replied calmly, satisfied when she saw her professor's eyes widen. "I do have the source, however the owner of the scrolls has kept them mostly private. I will speak to them and see if we can come to an arrangement. Good day," She finished, turning on her heel and leaving the lecture hall with long, graceful strides.

She ignored the other students that parted around her as she stalked through the halls toward the exit and then over to an empty picnic table. Taking care not to throw her bag onto the metal for fear of damaging her laptop, she dug her phone out of her bag and searched for Sesshoumaru's number. Rarely used, she paused when she pulled up the option to call.

Opting to text message him instead, she tapped out a quick message asking if it was possible to have the scrolls with the poetry authenticated and copied for her professor.

Two minutes later her phone rang and she saw his name flashing on the screen. Feeling strangely contrite, as if she'd trespassed on his work day, she clicked to accept and put the phone to her ear.

"Kagome?"

"Hi, Sesshoumaru."

"Is everything alright?"

Did she really sound that bad?

"My professor doubts the authenticity of the poetry I wanted to present for the lecture. I just, never mind. I can find something-"

"I can have the authenticity verified, but the only person who may have a copy is you," He interrupted. "Otherwise you must ask Inu Yasha."

"Inu Yasha?"

"He gave them to me in trust many years ago."

She had a feeling he was censoring for anyone that might have been able to hear their conversation. He probably meant 'centuries'.

"Okay, I can call him and ask," She murmured. "Thank you, Sesshoumaru," She sighed, feeling better already.

"Are you sure you're alright? You sound angry."

"My professor said I could just be making it up," She groaned, burying her face in her free hand as she tried not to remember the heat the accusation brought on. Anger faded into mortification. Did her professor really think she could do something like that? Had she done something to give him the impression that she would do something so underhanded?

"When is your next class?"

"In a couple of hours. I was going to work a bit on my presentation."

"Continue working on it," He told her, voice gentle but the command clear. She nodded, flushing hotly when she realized he wouldn't be able to see it and gave a small yes before the line went dead.

Sighing heavily, she pulled her laptop from her bag and opened it, waiting patiently for it to boot up before she opened the text document filled with some of the poems from the book Sesshoumaru had gifted her with.

She'd only used some of the poetry about the battles fought by the writer. The other poems had all seemed too personal, too special to share with others, however selfish it was to keep them to herself.

Knowing she was still too emotionally off balance to concentrate on her project, she shuffled through her bag until she found the slim volume of poetry and opened it to a random page. The poem she began reading through was about making love, although the whole thing was so metaphorical it would have been lost on others.

But there was love there, so much love in the words that her heart ached.

Sesshoumaru's voice murmuring them quietly to her whispered through her mind as she read along the lines, finger tracing them lightly. Her thoughts calmed and the incident with her professor forgotten as she sunk into the poetry and imagined the world back then, and the voice of her alpha reading to her quietly.

When a bag settled onto the table she didn't look up, used to sharing space with other students, but when his voice broke through her reverie and she looked up, shocked to see him sitting across from her.

"Sesshoumaru-"

"Kagome," He murmured, opening the bag and pulling out take out boxes.

"What are you doing here?"

"Lunch," He stated simply, pulling out chopsticks and handing her a pair. She took them, eyes still on the daiyoukai across from her. He looked utterly out of place in his suit and tie, tall form folded into the picnic table. The contrast was almost ridiculous, college students dressed causally or in sweats walking by him.

"You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to."

Knowing she wouldn't get anything out of him other than that simple explanation and that protesting was pointless, she gave in gracefully and opened the takeout box, surprised to see that he had gotten fried squid and pasta, one of her favorite foods.

After trying a bite, she realized he'd gone to her favorite restaurant, one they occasionally ordered from when neither felt like cooking.

"Thank you."

He nodded and they ate in relative silence, ignoring the curious stares of passerby. Once or twice someone would approach and then back away when he looked up and gave them a singularly cold glare. She tried not to giggle when, after the third time, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"They can't help it," She chuckled, smiling sympathetically when he gave her a flat look.

"And why is that?"

"Well, you're beautiful, they can't help but be curious."

"This is not me," He huffed, obviously annoyed.

"I know that, but they don't," She reminded him gently. "I'm not sure you know how to be unappealing," She added with a a laugh.

"Your friend dislikes me," He pointed out, looking vaguely triumphant, as if Eri was enough to declare her point invalid.

"Because you took a pretty instant dislike of her and didn't bother hiding it."

"So I am only appealing at face value?" He rebutted and she couldn't stop the laughter that erupted from her throat.

"No, you're wonderful Sesshoumaru," She finally laughed. "You just don't show other people."

He nodded in agreement and was about to take another bite of his pasta when yet another woman came over, hips swinging so that her short skirt flashed her upper thighs. Kagome frowned, looking back to Sesshoumaru and then to the woman.

"Hi, my name is Miyu," She said, ignoring his cold stare and sitting down next to him. "I haven't seen you on campus," She added, smiling softly.

"I do not attend."

What wasn't the girl getting? Sesshoumaru was glaring as she scooted closer and for all the world looked ready to rip her head off. Was she blind or stupid? The air around them grew progressively colder as Miyu babbled and asked questions, ignoring the flat tone of his voice as he answered. There was no satisfaction that he gave her his last name only, because he didn't give his normal 'I despise your kind intensely' speech with it.

After five minutes she was angry.

When ten minutes passed she was bordering on enraged. She opened her book and began reading, hoping to block out the girl's voice. But nothing could block out the sound, because she was listening for Sesshoumaru to say something, anything to get her to go.

And he didn't.

Ignoring the pair she gathered her things quietly and got up, not saying anything as she walked away, knowing she'd be early to her next class but not caring. Waiting in an empty class for half an hour would be much easier than listening to that girl fawning all over Sesshoumaru.

And easier than knowing he didn't try to stop her.

With an angry huff she jerked open the door to her classroom and saw that not even the professor was there. Going to her usual spot she dropped her bag into the chair next to her and dug through it for her laptop.

She began furiously typing, ignoring when other students began to file in twenty minutes later. It wasn't until her professor stepped in that she closed to document on her presentation.

It was late when she got back, almost dark. She'd plundered the school library, and not being able to find what she had sought, gone to three different bookstores in the general vicinity of her school. If general was used loosely.

"You're late for dinner," He rumbled quietly from his spot on the couch. She saw that he was reading a mystery novel, which he closed and sat on the coffee table, gold eyes swinging to her.

"I ate while I was looking for the books I needed," She lied, still off balance from her reaction earlier that day and not wanting to examine the childish anger that still lingered.

"You left me alone with her."

It was a reprimand and an accusation all rolled into one.

"You can take care of yourself," She muttered.

"The scrolls have been dated. The paperwork is on the table," He rumbled, voice unnaturally cold as he stood and walked past her, eyes straight ahead.

"Why didn't you just tell her to go away?" She snapped at his back, wishing she could take the words back as soon as she'd said them. But for better or worse they were in the air, hanging between them and forming a wall. He turned and she stepped back, surprised by the frown tugging down the corners of his lips and the anger in his eyes.

"Why didn't you?" He demanded quietly. "There was a time when you made no secret of your feelings."

"I was fifteen and stupid," She retorted. "And that was a different time and place, and you know it."

"I know," He started, "That I brought you lunch today because you were upset, and that somehow something I did or did not do, further upset you. However, I also know that you are not some insipid, weak willed female that is afraid to speak her mind."

"What does that have to do with anything? She was hitting on you, not me."

"I didn't go there for her," He snapped.

"Then why didn't you tell her to go away?"

"Why didn't you?"

"She wasn't hitting on me!"

"But she was annoying you."

"And she wasn't annoying you?" Kagome demanded incredulously.

He looked ready to say something and then stopped, eyes narrowing. Instead of saying anything else he turned on his heel and began walking up the stairs, back stiff.

"Sesshoumaru!"

He ignored her, going up to his room and closing the door behind him gently. She almost wished he'd slammed it so she could continue shouting at him for being so childish.

Ignoring the papers on the table she stomped upstairs and to her room, not caring if he could hear her slam the door or not.

Their argument made no sense, and she had no idea why he was so angry to begin with. The girl had been hitting on him, it wouldn't have been her place to tell her to leave. She would have just looked like some sort of jealous shrew if she had.

And with the sort of sudden clarity that felt like bricks falling on her, she realized she was acting like a jealous shrew. However that clarity didn't come with a reason why, and she was left feeling off balance and guilty for how she had treated him. He'd brought her lunch from her favorite restaurant because she'd been upset. She couldn't have been more of a child if she'd tried.

Falling back onto her bed she didn't fight the urge to cover her face with a pillow and scream, although she did wish her roommate didn't have hearing that would easily pick up on everything. Before she had moved in, she had spoken her problems aloud to try and sort them out, and now she couldn't for fear that her roommate would hear everything.

She should apologize. He had been doing something nice for her, and she'd reacted badly, for whatever reason. The idea of going to him and apologizing was mortifying. Especially since she could give no logical explanation for her childish tantrum.

Disliking having anything like this hanging between them, she got up and tried to straighten her hair, wishing for something to delay her walk to his room for a little longer. When nothing presented itself other than fiddling with her clothes, she took a deep breath and walked into the hall, surprised to see his door opening as well.

For a moment she wanted to laugh, the arrested expression on his face was so comical and out of place. Except that he looked ready to step back into his room, and she knew that if he retreated and closed the door, she wouldn't be able to stammer out her apology. It was already trying to lodge itself in her throat and she didn't know if she could manage if he turned around.

"I'm sorry," She blurted, cheeks heating. "I was having a tantrum, and it was stupid. You were right."

"My reaction was as well," He replied. "I should have told her to go away instead of expecting you to do it."

There was an awkwardness between them, and she didn't like it. Now that the apologies had been said, she didn't know what to do or say, and she mentally fumbled for something, anything, to cut through the tension.

"I lied," She added. "I didn't eat. I was too busy looking for books."

He seemed relieved to be given something to do, and they walked down the stairs. He'd already made something, and she sat at the table, pulling the books out of their bag and going over them.

The plate was steaming when he sat it down and took the chair next to her. His brows raised at the titles of the books.

"Fairy tales?"

"Myths," She corrected, flushing again.

"Some of them are true," He pointed out as she took a a tentative bite of her dinner.

"Could you tell me?"

He took one of the books and opened it, eyes moving rapidly over the page. His quiet baritone went over the story as she ate and when she finished, she continued listening while taking her dishes to the sink and pouring them both a glass of wine.

Once he had finished the story he began going over it, explaining details that had either changed in five hundred years, relaxing her and teaching her at the same time. For the second story they moved to the living room and she poured them both a second glass of wine, feeling as if their argument had passed and that all was right with the world.

A third story and a third glass had he sighed and leaning back into the couch, the day far from mind as she listened to his gentle cadence.

"Why did you react as you did today?" He asked after a long pause. She had been waiting for a fourth story and possibly sleep when he asked, and to her half conscious mind it wasn't so absurd a question, and easier to answer.

"I think I've just gotten used to having you to myself," She admitted.

A quiet rumble answered her before his arm went around her and pulled her closer. Grateful he wasn't angry, she yawned and curled into his side, taking comfort in the solid warmth of him.

"What about you?" She asked sleepily.

"Perhaps my pride was wounded that you did not fight for me."

"Typical male," She giggled. "If I had you would have been angry."

"No," He murmured. "I would not have been angry."

But the words were mostly lost on her, sleep turning them into nothing more than a string of syllables.