Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters in this fan fiction are the property of Rumiko Takahashi. The original characters and plot are the property of Chiaztolite, who is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: As we have had some action-packed, high-tension, and angsty moments for the past several chapters, I think everyone is thirsty for some Kagome & Sesshomaru moments. The scenes in this installment were meant to be for the ending of the next chapter, but I thought it might be lovely to put them into their own chapter. An interlude / intermission of some sort.

Thank you so much to my amazing beta reader: Shiroi Kiba no Kyohi-ka for making sure everything in this chapter is on point!

Without further ado... Enjoy!

The Way to Elysium

Interlude: Crimson Petals

The sight of the miko sleeping within the nest of fur beside him was the last thing Sesshōmaru saw before he fell asleep again, lulled by her steady breathing and the peace he felt knowing she was by his side. Why such notion affected his sleep, he could not even begin to fathom. He practically lived a millenia of his life never sleeping with anybody other than Ah-Un on occasions.

And yet, he could not deny: last night was the most peaceful slumber of his life.

When he woke up, the sun was shining, bright light streaming into his room through the lattice screens. She was gone by then, though traces of her scent lingered on his fur. He retracted his pelt and cocooned himself in it, inhaling deeply to commit the complex layers of her scents to memory. Even though he already knew he would never forget them.

Sitting up and looking around the room — large enough to house a platoon of soldiers — he confirmed it was empty. Where is she, then? He could sense that she was near. Perhaps in the courtyard or in one of the numerous gardens that his father had made his architect include in the planning of the massive palace grounds.

He dressed himself efficiently and stepped out onto the empty corridor. It was a slightly windy day, as he could tell from the swaying movements of the cypress trees in the distance. Here, the air smelled sweet with floral scents, and the winds carried those scents everywhere.

It did not take him long to track the miko down to one of the sun-filled small gardens scattered throughout the palace. She was lounging on a stone bench, tilting her face up to the sky to soak up the sun. She had the right of it, basking in the sun as much as she could. When they left this realm and returned to the murky and grey Asphodel Meadows, the chance to see and feel the bright, warm golden sun would be rare.

Her eyes had been closed as she gave herself fully to the warm pleasure of the sun, then — as though she sensed his approach, she opened her eyes. Those fawn, doe-like gaze found him straightaway; her entire face lighting up when she saw him.

"Sesshōmaru." She smiled as she perused him from head to toe. "You look well." She scooted over to make room for him on the bench and gestured for him to take a seat next to her.

"This Sesshōmaru did not come to sit down," he told her.

She tilted her head sideways, looking at him questioningly. For a moment, he found it difficult to speak.

"Miko, would you—" He paused, hesitating. "Would you like to take a stroll around the gardens? I know a particular place I thought you might enjoy."

Her reaction… Somehow, she looked more shocked now than when he had asked her to kill him. He supposed his invitation – for a walk around the gardens, no less – must have sounded incredibly silly. He was more likely to invite her for a practice spar in the courtyard than for a stroll. He was not about flowers and gardens, not on the surface at least, but everyone needed a bit of beauty in their lives, did they not?

Seconds passed and still she had yet to give him an answer. He was close to telling her to forget about it when she leapt to her feet; pink lips stretching into a wide smile that made the previous uncertainty and awkwardness all worth it.

"I would love that," she said.

Just then, a stronger breeze blew, tousling their hair, his mokomoko, and the sleeves of their clothing. When the wind finally died down, as they both raked their fingers through their tresses in an effort to tame them, he saw her studying him.

"I should get you a haori to put on top of your clothes," she decided.

He lifted a hand to stop her. "Miko, I am perfectly capable of withstanding a light breeze."

But she was already running towards his room. She looked back and waved as she cheerfully said, "We wouldn't want you to get sick!"

Sick? He rubbed his forehead as he watched her leave, feeling helplessly annoyed. Her overly concerned attitude agitated him, making his skin crawl with frustration. Did she not realize that he was a powerful, capable male? Not a weakling, who would cough or sneeze as soon as a breeze hit him?

Ridiculous.

That very male part of him wanted to present the best of himself to her. The last time she had seen him in battle, he had been defeated. He had been forced to accept his father's help, and even then he was bedridden for three days. What would it take for her to see that he was still the same male he had been: Sesshōmaru. The daiyōkai of the west whose name inspired fear in the hearts of both demons and men throughout the lands?

Perhaps he could kill an animal. Something large. That would show her, would it not? Though – where would he get a large animal here? It had to wait, and he simply must be patient. If he was lucky, they would encounter a large something when they returned to Asphodel Meadows. If not, well – the western lands had a bevy of large animals he could sink his claws into. His fingers itched as he resisted the urge to growl in frustration. Perhaps this was all a mistake. They had not even left for the gardens yet and he already felt a headache coming.

She returned sooner than he thought she would, carrying an indigo blue haori that matched the sash he put on himself this morning. Just as she was about to help him drape the light jacket over his clothing, he caught her hand in his grasp. He used his other hand to trap her chin between his forefinger and thumb. The sudden move discomposed her and she stumbled, though his arms made sure she was in no danger of falling. Her widened eyes stared at him; lips parted to let out a quiet gasp.

He leaned closer to her face.

"Have I been so lowered in your eyes that you thought me so frail, unable to bear a bit of wind?" He asked.

She did not answer for a long time, though her eyes never left his. The thumping of her heart sounded loud in his ears. He could feel her blood rushing through the vein underneath his thumb.

"I have never once thought you were frail," she finally replied. "Not even when you were faced down on the ground, unconscious after you faced Grief. To me, whether you are triumphant or defeated, unscathed or injured, you are – and always will be – the strongest male I have ever known. And I don't mean it in just a physical sense."

Her words smoothed down his ruffled furs. So much joy — the likes he had never known before — suffused his chest that he nearly preened. Still, he did not fully understand…

"Then, why do you insist on a jacket?"

She studied him, eyes wide and bright, though he could not decipher the expression on her face.

"Do you still trust me, like you did when you asked me to kill you and revive you with Tenseiga?"

"Explicitly," he said, nodding.

He felt her gentle touch on the wrist of his hand that held her chin.

"If so," she said softly. "Why is it so difficult for you to let me take care of you?"

Her answer stunned him so much that he stepped back. The warmth that flooded his chest robbed him of speech. Sometimes, with her, his heart felt so full he could not bear it. At this moment, he thought it was about to burst at the seams at any minute now. She kept doing this to him. Whenever he was around her, his heart was constantly crippled. In need of repair.

Truly, it boggled the mind.

He had to turn around, because otherwise, she would have seen how her words made his cheeks flushed with warmth, and he had never blushed in front of anyone. Ever. If he could have one dignity left to maintain, let it be this.

Without word, he sighed and donned the haori she had fetched for him.

"Let's go," he said.

… …

His face had been so close to hers when he asked her if she thought him frail. Those golden eyes bore into hers as his fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist. She nearly stumbled but his arms kept her steady. Her heartbeats had accelerated at the slightest touch, at the feel and the warmth of his body pressed up against hers. She wondered – as they stood so close to each other, nearly chest to chest, if he was able to hear the thumping of her heart against her breast.

At first, she thought he was jesting. Sesshōmaru and the word 'frail' just did not belong in the same sentence. But then she recalled: this was Sesshōmaru. 'Jesting' was probably not even a part of his vocabulary, which meant this was no laughing matter to him. Looking deeply into his watchful tawny gaze, she realized this was not a narcissistic question designed with the purpose of getting his ego stroked. His eyes told her: he was seriously concerned about how she perceived him.

It's just a jacket, she wanted to tell him. Though, of course to him, it was not just about a jacket. In his mind, the jacket was the representation of her distrust in his prowess despite his full recovery, and perhaps… in his ability to provide her protection as well.

It could not be further than the truth.

As much as she wanted to laugh it off — because it was simply ridiculous — she knew this was important to him. It was important to him to be seen, by her, as a strong, capable male.

The discovery that he held her in such high regard, that he cared so much about her opinions of him… The realization that she could hurt him with a few chosen words, just as easily as he could break her… They were all life-altering.

"I have never once thought you were frail," she told him the truth. "Not even when you were faced down on the ground, unconscious after you faced Grief. To me, whether you are triumphant or defeated, unscathed or injured, you are – and always will be – the strongest male I have ever known. And I don't mean it in just a physical sense."

His beautiful eyes flickered. He still had to ask: "Then, why do you insist on a jacket?"

She was not going to back down. These little things were how she showed her love. He might as well get used to it now.

"Do you still trust me, like you did when you asked me to kill you and revive you with Tenseiga?"

"Explicitly," he said, nodding.

As her heart warmed up, she placed a gentle touch on the hand that captured her chin and asked him softly, "If so, why is it so difficult for you to let me take care of you?"

He drew back as if she had slapped him, looking away, just a split second after she caught the darkening of his cheeks that looked suspiciously like a… blush?

She had asked the question, but she already knew the answer. Her heart ached so badly when she thought about it.

It was difficult for him because, after Chikatani's death, no one really took care of him — not until Jaken, at least. Despite what everyone might have believed, Sesshōmaru had grown up all on his own, like weeds. Or wildflowers.

And, truthfully, how much caring did Jaken do for his master anyway?

He took the haori from her hand and put it on without further protest, still facing away from her.

"Let's go," he said.

She smiled and followed him.

Sesshōmaru led her away from the main house and the main courtyard towards the back of the palace complex, passing through smaller gardens and arched wooden bridges over clear-watered streams. They also passed several ponds, covered with pink and white water lilies, and a beautiful blue lake with meticulously landscaped gardens surrounding its perimeter. All of which were wondrous enough to be the special place he mentioned, yet he did not stop.

When he had invited her for a walk, she had been so overjoyed it took her a few moments to respond. If two weeks ago someone had told her Sesshōmaru, the inu daiyōkai of the west, Inuyasha's half-brother, would invite her on a private stroll around beautiful gardens in a palace in the sky, she would have laughed her head off.

But now, it was not funny anymore. Nothing was. It was all… wonderful. Sublime. Dreamy.

"It is not much further," he said as he offered a hand to assist her with climbing a series of steep stone steps. His grasp felt warm around her hand, strong and secure.

They walked along a stone path for a few minutes before she saw it, and the vision made her gasp in wonder. It was a large, meandering garden filled with wisteria, plum blossoms, hydrangeas, and camellias. Flowers of four different seasons and yet, here, they all magically bloomed at the same time. There were vibrant colours of every shade imaginable. But the purples, the reds, and the pinks dominated, prominent against the lushness of green leaves.

Sesshōmaru led Kagome through a tunnel of wisteria. Due to his height, he had to bend down in some areas so he would not disturb the cascading blooms that created a beautiful canopy of purple above their heads. As she watched Sesshōmaru stop to inspect a particularly large cluster dangling above his head, she thought to herself: who knew purple and silver could look so good together?

Here, perhaps because he was in his mother's home, or because he had been in bed rest for the past couple of days, he had discarded his armour and his usual formal clothing. Opting instead for something more casual and comfortable. His two swords, however, were still faithful companions at his waist. Under the indigo haori, he donned the plain white yukata and the indigo obi belt with military precision, and they looked marvellous on him, as expected. They made him look younger, more relaxed, and — dare she say — more approachable.

"Do you come here often?" She asked. "To your mother's palace, I mean."

It did not seem like a warm place to grow up, but there was no doubt it would have provided endless adventures for any child who liked to explore and hunt for treasures. It made her wonder what kind of child he had been.

He did not reply immediately, but instead seemed to stare at a faraway place. And she wondered, sometimes when his lashes were lowered, or when he looked towards that faraway place, why did his expression seem so pained and lonely?

"When I first arrived in the western lands, I —" He paused. His forehead creased into a thin frown as though he was recalling some unpleasant memories. "I had a difficult time adjusting. On rare occasions I came to this garden for a bit of respite."

"You didn't like the western lands at first?"

He released the cluster of wisteria blooms and continued to stroll. "For a child raised under the open sky of the Southern Isles and surrounded by the uncluttered views of the ocean, the western lands — with its dense forests and trees — felt a little… claustrophobic."

She fell into steps beside him. "Were you sent to the western lands alone?"

"Ah-Un — the dragon — was with me."

So, pretty much alone then. Though Ah-Un was a stalwart companion, as he had proven many times in battles, the dragon was no substitute for another person's touch and affections. There was no mention of Chikatani or his grandfather, but she did not venture to ask.

"Ah. How did he handle the transition?"

"Badly." The corners of his lips curled up into a small smirk. "His diet had been predominantly fish and conch, caught fresh from the ocean. Those were not so readily available around the General's stronghold. It took a while to find other edibles he deemed suitable."

Kagome laughed and gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow, surprising herself at how comfortable she felt with him now, enough to take a liberty with such gesture.

"I see. So he's as picky as his master."

"Eventually, he settled for grass, so I'm not certain how discerning he is," he replied, bemused. "But… I suppose not all of us can be satisfied with Jaken's jerky." There was an evidence of a slight smile on his lips, she thought he might be teasing her.

She could not hold back another laugh, "They look unappetizing, but I do wish I could have some right now."

"It is unfortunate we have no more," he agreed. "But, as I told you, I have been stashing them away. I could give you some, if you like. After."

After.

So much happiness filled her chest that her heart drowned in it. It was the first time he spoke of the future in the living realm after what took place between them in Gaudia's alternate reality. The concession was small, perhaps insignificant to him, but to her… it meant everything.

Tell me more. About 'after'.

"And where is this giant stash of jerky?" She asked.

He huffed a half-chuckle, half-scoff. "Another place of respite," he replied. "Perhaps not as colourful as this, but safe and comfortable nevertheless."

They had entered the part of the garden where the plum blossoms were blooming in profusion. This reminded her of him, of his kimono with the red six-petalled plum blossom design. The crimson colour was so vibrant, the air was tinged pink from the countless blossoms that surrounded them.

"These are my mother's favourite," he said, gently pushing away an errant branch heavy with blooms away from his head. "She planted them everywhere in her palace, and they magically bloom all year long."

It was such a treat to be able to see this sight. She had never seen so many plum blossom trees in one place, all blooming abundantly. Even in the modern era, where they had parks filled with them, she had never been able to view them in peace without throngs of people around.

"How beautiful," she sighed, inhaling the flower-scented pink air deeply.

"Hnn. It's a bit boring, is it not," Sesshōmaru said. "Plum blossoms are the harbinger of spring. They herald the ending of winter and the arrival of warmth by gifting us with their blooms. Their beauty lies in their short lives, and in our anticipation to see them again the following spring. To have them all year round like this… it's almost as if the deep meaning of their beauty has been taken away, leaving only the superficial."

Kagome could not help but smile. He could be so jaded sometimes. Though he had a point, they were a magnificent sight nonetheless. Especially for someone who was viewing it for the first time. Obviously he thought so too, for otherwise he would not have brought her here.

She was in the midst of lifting her hand to touch a low branch of plum blossoms when he came up behind her, so close that she could feel his solid chest ghosting her back.

Wordlessly he took her hand, then her other hand, and flipped them palm-side up. An emotion she could not name flitted through his eyes as he stared at her scarred palms. The burnt marks on both hands mirrored the pattern on Bakusaiga's handle. They were healing, but the purplish red lines were raised, puckered in some areas and discoloured. They were by no means pretty, and she would most likely carry them for the rest of her life.

Her cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as she swallowed. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "They're unsightly."

He flicked his intense golden gaze to her, meeting her eyes.

"Not to me," he said.

Kagome could only watch when he lowered his head so his lips could meet her conjoined hands, right where the scars were. The sensitive skin razed open and raw was soothed by a pair of lips that knew exactly how to give equal comfort and devastation. To watch this beautiful male perfection pressed gentle kisses upon the scarred parts of her…

It hurt. But it was the sweet, delicious type of pain. The kind for which she would be returning repeatedly. An ache so deep she felt it in the core of her being.

He lifted his head slightly, peering at her with a set of narrowed eyes.

"Do you know what it means to take hold of someone else's sword, miko?"

Uh-oh. Her heart nearly stopped. Was he offended that she had grabbed Bakusaiga without his permission?

"Is it—" She gulped. "— impertinent?"

He chuckled darkly against her palm, ghosting his lips back and forth across it. "To a swordsman, a sword is an extension of his limbs, of himself. This rings even more true for Bakusaiga, a sword created from my own self." He lowered her hands to their sides, but kept them in his gentle grasp.

"That sword came from inside me. It is an extension of my soul. No one touches it but me. Yet, you —" He pinned her with his gaze. The warm, honeyed shade of his golden eyes seemed to glow from within. "You grabbed it. With both hands, no less. Don't you know — it is akin to laying your hands on a piece of my soul."

He lowered his head, putting his lips close to her ear. Silver hair spilled over her shoulder. So close. Her heartbeat accelerated to a gallop. Shivering from head to toe, she could not suppress a whimper. Was this meant to be a punishment? Perhaps, for it was torture in the most visceral sense. But, so delicious. Rich. Dark. She did not even realize she had swayed into him until she felt his cheek pressing against hers; his lips grazing the whorl of her ear.

Panting a little, and surrounded by his masculine woodsy scent now instead of floral, she could feel his warm breath fanning her cheek. His voice was so low it was almost a rumble.

"Miko, I don't think I've ever met anyone so bold who dared to touch me so intimately."

Then he lightly bit the tip of her ear; a tiny cry escaped her lips.

Thankfully, afterwards, he took mercy on her, releasing her hands and stepping back. Otherwise she might have collapsed right then and there and transformed into a puddle.

The breeze blew again, shaking the branches of the trees. Hundreds of crimson petals rained down upon their heads, fluttering around them in a flurry. He reached out to carefully brush the petals off the top of her head. When he drew back, he appeared completely in control. His usual pristine, composed, unaffected-self.

It was so unfair.

Blushing profusely now, she stammered out an excuse: "I'm… I'm sorry. I… I have to…"

She could not even finish it. Before she embarrassed herself further, she turned around and bolted.

… …

He let her run away, even when the thought of chasing her gave him such erotic thrill that it took all he possessed to remain rooted to his spot. He did not quite trust himself to give chase, afraid of what he might do if he caught her. And he would catch her.

So he let her run. He might appear calm on the surface, but she would be mistaken if she thought he was not affected. To say he was overwrought was putting it mildly.

The air had been suffused with the sweet scent of her arousal, mingling with the floral scents of the blooms. He came incredibly close to laying her down on the ground and taking her on the bed of the fallen crimson petals. Or better yet — against the plum blossom tree with her thighs wrapped tightly around his hips, and those hands clutching his shoulders as he showed her what it meant to be truly claimed.

Those hands.

She had deemed the scars on her hands unsightly to the point that she apologized for them. How dare she. The audacity of the woman. To him, those scars were precious. She had braved the consequences of grabbing the yōki-charged sword of a daiyōkai, and his sword was by no means an ordinary one. She could have been blown to bits, burned to ashes, yet she did it anyway.

All for the sake of protecting him.

Did she know, in his lengthy life, very few had ever lifted their fingers to protect him? For her to do it so freely and unconditionally…

He found it ferociously arousing.

He watched her from afar, his senses returning in full throttle after many days of depletion. She was running back towards the main house as though her life depended on it, nearly slipping as she climbed the wooden bridge to cross over a stream.

You still want to return to Inuyasha after this is done?

A pair of luminescent golden eyes narrowed, lips curling into a smile in the fashion of a daiyōkai who found something — or someone — he really, really wanted.

We shall see, Kagome.

A/N: After sixteen chapters in, he finally refers to her by name (though only in his thoughts, for now).

Thank you so much for reading, I hope that was enjoyable. I certainly enjoyed writing their interactions, and the small gestures and nuances that further their relationship. The ending scene is one of my favourites ;)
As always, reviews/comments are more than welcomed and they mean a lot to me. Please drop me a few lines if you have an opportunity!

Thank you so much for the love you have given the last chapter. I received so many words of encouragement, it was so wonderful to know this fic is being enjoyed by many. I usually respond to each and every comment I received by PM. If you are a guest, unfortunately I cannot PM you but here are my responses:

Raymoon: Thank you so much! I'm glad the explanation was clear :)

Jaz: Here you go, a whole chapter dedicated just for Kag x Sess. I hope it hit the spot ^-^

Amanda: Haha, like I mentioned, so many readers are just hungering for more private moments between the two main characters (as am I!). I'm happy to be able to put out a chapter like this. I might do it more often in the future to include some stolen romantic moments.

Susana: I do not have a particular schedule for updates, unfortunately. As soon as the chapter is ready, the beta reading is finished, and I am happy with it, then it will be posted. So far I have been updating every 4-5 days and I will try to keep the momentum going. I would hate for you to miss an update too! :)

Ale: Muchas gracias! I'm so glad you are enjoying the story. It means a lot to me when readers tell me the characterization of Sesshomaru is well done, as I think it is one of the most important things (if not the most important), and most difficult to achieve. I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter!

Thank you again everyone! Until next time~