In Time, Death
By Alesyira
Summary: Shippo swears he didn't meddle, this time.
A Growing Problem
- 1982 -
"We have a very big problem."
Sesshoumaru slowly set down his book and turned a blazing golden gaze upon the kitsune looming in the doorway. "What did you do?"
Shippo put his hands on his hips and scowled. "This is not due to meddling. This is something I didn't…" he paused, took a deep breath, and started over. "The mystic implied the next time I'd meet Kagome would be when she's a baby, probably on the day she's born. He said something about her magic causing problems, but it already is. Toshi and Aiko conceived literally yesterday and I can tell it's going to be her. Aiko glows."
Sesshoumaru steepled his fingers. "Yes, this was an eventuality I had considered, although I must admit I'd assumed it would be in her youth and not in the womb." He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and withdrew a small wooden box. "These were meant for Kagome, but one should suffice for her mother."
Shippo's mouth fell open. "You had already planned to meddle after giving me such a hard time?"
"There's a difference between your variety of meddling for amusement and my planning for the future."
Shippo rolled his eyes as he reached out to pick up the little box. A delicate silver chain rest within, curled around a fluff of fine silk. "This was to be for Kagome? You know, young children usually don't do well with jewelry."
Sesshoumaru briefly glanced at the box in Shippo's hands before staring expectantly at him in silence.
Shippo cocked an eyebrow and picked up the jewelry and silk to reveal a tiny square of paper printed with absolutely miniscule writing. "Is this a…"
"Fifteen years, from the day she is born. Make sure it goes here," he tapped the crescent moon marking in the center of his forehead.
Shippo laughed. "You planned extra meddling! Sesshoumaru, you trouble-maker!"
"Problem-fixer. Go." Sesshoumaru frowned as the kitsune snapped off a sarcastic salute and whirled with a flourish before vanishing from his sight. Shippo may have not seen his human for centuries, but that did not mean she'd been completely out of reach.
She'd had her fingers in more events than he'd imagined possible, and he refused to be surprised by her appearances anymore. He pulled open the drawer again and stared down at the dozens of other items he'd accumulated just in case Kagome happened. He brushed a fingertip along a pair of grey silk gloves, still spotted with old blood and torn along one seam.
Were his problems now because she'd meddled in the past? Or were their problems in the past because they meddled now?
No one was within earshot to hear his sigh of irritation as he slid the drawer shut—hopefully for the final time—before he returned to his book.
AN: (this is the shortest chapter I have for this book, so far. Also, this is probably the last pre-Kagome chapter unless something pops up.)