Prompt: Rutabaga
Sesshoumaru hadn't wanted to unearth the baggage of watching everyone he'd known over the years perish- from slaughter, disease or old age. He kept the conversation short, giving scant information. Not like he had a lot to share. They'd died. He hadn't.
Kagome didn't ask about her friends. That could wait for another time.
Watching her fall asleep in his arms felt like a dream- his sleep broken by Takara crying at 4pm- which he tended to.
And on that day, the former Western Lord changed his first diaper, trying to block out the smell of rutabaga.