A/N: I have no idea what Linkin Park's concert in Japan was like, so that seen is 100 made up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Sesshomaru rushed into the house as soon as he turned off the car. His haste came from his anger at making such a silly mistake and wasting half of an evening, not from any desire to hear this new type of music. Although it can not possibly be worse than that jazz concert. As he yanked open the door he flung the ticket across the room, letting it go without paying any attention to its flight. It skittered through the air, avoiding the couch by the narrowest of margins, until it came to rest on one of the numerous counters across the room as he dived through the den and slid to a halt on the polished wood floor, next to another ticket lying inconspicuously on the sturdy wooden coffee table. He debated grabbing it, but decided to leave it where it was so that he did not have to worry about keeping track of it while dressing.

As he stood there he also briefly weighed the merits of the stairs versus taking the elevator. The elevator was closer, right in front of him in fact, but he could go up the stairs faster; climbing a few stories was very easy when you could leap a whole flight in one jump. As he jumped up the brightly-lit stairwell story by story, Sesshomaru was tempted to try for more, but refrained. The memories of the time he had tried for three flights and spent several days with a severe concussion were still fresh. Even a powerful demon lord is not immune to everything, and hitting one's head on the bottom of concrete-reinforced stairs at 20 miles an hour was certainly something to be avoided if at all possible. Besides, he did NOT need to give Jaken something else to laugh about. The memory of that event had brought tears to the toad's eyes for weeks; a repeat, combined with such a stupid error as grabbing the wrong ticket, would give him amusement for several months. Not to mention, Jaken would inevitably be in charge of nursing Sesshomaru back to health, which would give him ample time to laugh at his helpless master's expense. Any health impairment opened the way for a more permanent type, and Sesshomaru had not reached the top of the youkai totem pole by being friendly and trusting. Assassination was becoming less and less common; there were more effective ways to ruin someone. But it was still practiced. And if he died his fortune could go to just about any one. Even his half-brother' mutts, horrible as the thought was. Sesshomaru reached the top of the stairs and hurtled down the hallway, blowing through the door of his bedroom and trailing a considerable wind; he groaned internally at the sight of all his carefully piled papers being scattered to the four winds, and opened the doors of his closets to begin his search for appropriate clothing.

Yes, closets, plural. In fact, referring to them as closets was kind of an insult to nice, ordinary closets that held clothing and some shoe boxes. If regular closets were regular people, these closets were the type to spend several thousand dollars for one evening's champagne and build a home bigger than the White House.

When you walked into Sesshomaru's room the things that caught your attention were the bathroom, which had enough marble to rebuild the Parthenon, and horrendous coloring. The garish gold and maroon fixtures were not so much a reflection of Sesshomaru's tastes as they were of the unavoidable fact that he was a dog, and therefore more than slightly color-blind. He thought the bathroom fixtures were a nice dark grey, practically black, and a much lighter pale shade of gold than they really were. His bedroom itself was an eye-catcher, as it was large enough to house a swimming pool, and in fact, had done so. The three different beds, for when he felt like sleeping on a different type of mattress, the quarter-sized dojo off to one side, and the full-size home-theater were very noticeable, as was the network of ten computers discreetly deposited on the other side of the dojo. The one thing that would not catch your attention was the inconspicuous door off to your left. The normal exterior belied the fact that it hid a cave system larger than those in Kentucky, and had a rather larger collection of stalactites. It opened onto a collection of rooms housing what was quite possibly the world's largest clothing collection, and that definitely covered more acreage than most small farms.

Inevitably, there were rumors about what was really hidden in those rooms. The sheer mystery of a such a large system of rooms in one the of most jam-packed cities in the world simply to store clothes was so hard for most people to imagine that they simply had to believe that something else was going on. There were rumors that cleaners had gotten lost in some of the back rooms, and were still wandering through the maze, looking desperately for the door. Supposedly, there were clothes left over from the feudal era that Sesshomaru-sama had never gotten around to throwing away that would billow apart into endless dust the second the door was opened. There were rumors that he kept his secret teddy-bear collection in the closets, that he kept his secret fetish collection in the closets, and that he kept a collection of disobedient servants in a special room in the far back. There were other rumors about his various activities in this maze that will not be repeated here, since most of them are far to stupid to have any merit, and all of them are horribly obscene. Some of the rumors were partially accurate; there were rooms containing clothes from the Warring States era tucked away in the cloth-filled maze. But they were cared for, and worn whenever possible. There was not a secret collection of fetish items, at least not as such; there were, however, two rooms full of things that Sesshomaru had simply decided were interesting.

However, none of this bothered Sesshomaru tonight; in fact, he did not even know about most of it, since he had a policy of never paying attention to servants. From the front room, which appeared to be an ordinary walk-in closet, he turned left, away from the wall that his closets shared with the hallway, and went deeper into the maze. He trotted through it, absorbed in his own world, until he came to his room of "modern" clothing. This was one of the rooms that saw a complete clothes rotation every decade or so; the fashions of the previous decades were thrown out and current fashions replaced them. Sometimes, if he had particularly liked a certain style, the clothes went into his permanent-wear rooms; otherwise, they were given to servants or charity. Appearing outdated is rarely a good idea; it always gives people the wrong impression, and in this day and age, respect for your true position is almost always the most effective lever. And definitely less messy.

In a few quick motions, he selected a long and loose-sleeved black T-shirt from the left side of the room. At first glance it appeared perfectly normal, but on closer inspection proved to have strange strips of fabric at the bottom. The mystery continued as Sesshomaru pulled out a pair of loose black jeans from the racks opposite. The purpose of these straps was made clear when Sesshomaru put the garments on; the straps tucked into loops hidden inside the jeans, remaining perfectly hidden, as the T-shirt was tucked into the jean tops. Sesshomaru had worn a gi and hakama for much of his life, and wore similar clothing whenever possible. I may not like the music tonight, but at least I will be comfortable. He left, now in his new clothing, and turned left, down hallway that went from bizarre murals to a standard hotel hallway. At one of the strange murals, he stopped and kicked the left foot of the minotaur that figured prominently in it. The minotaur swung back ro reveal a door shaped to fit his pose, and a temporarily darkened room. The lights blinked on as Sesshomaru stepped over the slight rise, revealing a room filled with everything leather. Leather bags, jackets, shoes, boots, belts, and yes, the occasional horsewhip, retained from some long-ago riding lesson. After some careful consideration, he pulled a black leather belt with inch-long spikes on it from a hanging rack full of belts, and with great care threaded it through the belt loops on his jeans. He selected some black leather soft-soled boots from a shelf near the bottom, and left the room.

Back in his bedroom, Sesshomaru adjusted his outfit, and gave some serious consideration to his hair. In the bathroom, he regarded himself in the short mirror, and pulled down a rack with his large collection of hair-ties. My hair is short enough that humans wear similar lengths; now, if I can only find an appropriate style I can hide my ears and dispense with the illusions... He tied his hair into a pony-tail at the base of his neck, leaving enough give to hide the tips of his ears and still look natural. Perfect. No one will see anything, and I will not have to feel like I am covered in a greasy film all night. He put on the finishing touches and stepped back to survey himself. His bright white hair fell gracefully down the sides of his face, covering the upper half of his ears but leaving the rest free. His shirt was black, and nearly skin-tight on his torso; the full-length sleeves widened as they fell down his arms, ending at his wrists with a two-inch width. His jeans were black, and loose enough to pass a real gi in bad lighting. His spiked black belt and black leather boots completed the outfit. The all-black clothes made a striking contrast with his white hair, and the overall effect was that of a somewhat tastefully glaring neon sign. The whole ensemble placed him firmly in the goth category. After considering his appearance for a few minutes, he pulled open a section of the wall and grabbed a spiked black dog collar. A second once-over assured him that everything was in place, and his thoughts wandered back to earlier in the evening. Here I am, in exactly the same position as an hour and a half ago. It's not everyone who gets an evening over twice. Finally he left the room, his white hair streaming slightly behind him.

The rock concert was really not as bad as he had feared. Of course, he was never going to admit this to Jaken. Actually going inside the concert hall had proved impossible; the music was so loud that he wondered if anyone inside could actually still hear. However, the lobby was sound-proofed, which meant that it only got up to 75 or so decibels, and the street outside was well within hearing range for a demon. Actually, the whole block was within hearing range, because the entire building was actually throbbing to the music. Sesshomaru met several demons in the building and surrounding area; they said that other demons had gone inside, but they had special ear-plugs and other sound-dampening equipment with them. So he wandered back and forth between the street and the lobby. He admired the furnishings while listening; the orange carpet and the huge, bright posters clashed horribly with each other, and the throbbing from the music made the posters look like they were trying to come alive. Orange was one of his favorite colors, simply because he could see it. Finally, someone who appreciates such a vibrant color. I wonder how to thank the person in charge of this absolutely fabulous decor. Perhaps by tearing off their limbs until they beg for forgiveness. The grey walls were not helping matters either.

The lobby furniture was comfortable, but he could not sit in one for more than two minutes before his ears started to ache. He was reclining against the back of a curved couch in the center of the lobby, just about to leave again when he saw a young kappa acquaintance wandering out of a side door on the right wall. The kappa disappeared into the bathroom near the back of the lobby looking rather dry and came out happily soaked. He was wearing a backwards baseball cap; probably to hide the covering for his head-hole. Sesshomaru held still and quieted his thoughts, hoping to avoid the his notice. This particular kappa was to be avoided at all costs. His father, a prince among the water-folk, was very young, barely 30 human years. But he had already fallen into human habits, a common mistake among those born after Nagasaki. First he married at the tender age of 20, then he divorced barely a decade later, and had now spoiled his children rotten. Not to mention, kappas eat people. Frequently. Sesshomaru was opposed to cannibalism; he just could not work out how anyone could feel comfortable eating a human being. Unfortunately he could not evade the tadpole's attention, and the boy came over to talk to him. The child's spiked blue, fake hair poked out from under his cap, and combined with his black clothes made an interesting and not entirely painful contrast to the orange floor. At least Sesshomaru could watch the boy and not the rest of the lobby. Unfortunately, that appeared to give the twerp the belief that he might actually succeed in gaining Sesshomaru's attention. Sesshomaru was tempted to close his eyes, but refrained; he would hold that particularly offensive gesture as a last resort. He was meditating on the merits of invisibility spells and illusions, when a friend, a real friend, walked unobtrusively out of door on the left wall, spotted the pair, and deliberately leaned against the wall to watch. Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes at the man, who amusedly wandered over. His deliberate speed and aimless path sent a clear signal to Sesshomaru that he had over stepped the boundaries of their relationship; Sesshomaru vowed to make up for that at some appropriate time, and hoped that the kitsune would pass near enough to allow him to make a break for it.

As Sesshomaru watched his friend meander over, his mind flashed back to their first meeting. It had taken place only three decades ago, at a college in the Tokyo suburbs. Sesshomaru had been taking a quantum physics course; he liked to stay up to date in the various fields, since he had the time and money to do so. He had been sitting in one of the many cafe's close to the campus, trying to work out the math for a quantum reaction, and feeling highly aggravated. It was a café he had never been to before, so he did not know the waiter who was hovering behind his left elbow. The man finally asked him if everything was alright. Sesshomaru had grunted a negative and kept on working. The waiter stood by his elbow for a few minutes, obviously thinking, then shrugged his shoulders and left. After a few minutes, Sesshomaru simply gave up on the problem, finished off his cold drink and left.

Sesshomaru went back to that particular café several times; it was right on his route to class and had surprisingly good food. Over the next several weeks, he noticed the waiter helping others with their problems, scholastic and otherwise. Eventually, Sesshomaru had shown up at the café, ordered a bagel sandwich and some chips, and when they and the waiter arrived, he sheepishly asked for help with his course work. Sesshomaru quickly became a regular at the café, and soon figured out that the waiter was a fox youkai. After this realization, he started talking about his personal life with the fox. The advice Sesshomaru got had saved several of his relationships from an untimely death. Sesshomaru's opinion of the fox had grown swiftly, and they had become good friends, or at least as close to that as Sesshomaru would let himself go. The fox had stopped working at that café, but they still managed to see each other frequently.

That he had shown up here was not very surprising to Sesshomaru. After all, they had first met on a college campus. Sesshomaru had been faintly surprised when someone dared to frankly talk with him, but simply assumed that the fox was young and arrogant. That some one could be old and arrogant never crossed his mind; after all, arrogance was assuming that you were the center of the universe. In Japan, after a certain age, you became the center of the universe, or at least a universe, and simply could not be arrogant. If Sesshomaru had ever stopped to think, he would have realized that no one meets him by accident, and that the fox youkai certainly did not smell young; that, in fact, he smelled fairly old and very powerful. But since Sesshomaru rarely stopped to think about things, he had not realized this yet.

In any case, Sesshomaru sat there, trapped by this odious pest, watching as his tactful salvation wandered slowly in his direction. That fox is entirely to casual, he thought as his friend crossed the space between them. First the fox was heading for them, then for an interesting poster, then for the bathroom. No! Don't go to the bathroom! Get me out of here first! Please! Sesshomaru nearly burst out of his seat, but restrained himself. Finally the fox wandered over and engaged the kappa in a conversation. Sesshomaru relaxed momentarily, only to notice that his ears were throbbing. He murmured a quick spell of silencing and the pain blissfully stopped. The downside to this spell was that he could not hear anything now, and so could only guess at what the fox and water demon were talking about. Water spirits had the same reputation among the elemental spirits that foxes did among the animals; mischievous and willing to try anything for a laugh. On second thought, I probably should be happy that I can not hear what they are saying.

Finally the fox turned to his right and faced Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru dropped the silencing spell, and the horrendous noise of the place crashed down around him. He started, the slight motion causing his hair to stir, then focused on what the fox was saying.

But as his attention turned to the fox's word's a smell caught his attention. The same smell that had been at the jazz concert. That girl! Sesshomaru felt like he had when he was three and a lightening elemental poked him after shuffling across the carpet. His nerves tingled and he swore later that his hair stood up. He waited for a break in the conversation, mumbled a polite good-bye that he could claim was a negative later if he had too, and headed for the door. As he stood up, a peal of laughter came from the door way, and she hopped in, a younger male dragging her by one leg.

Shippo smiled to himself as he wandered over to where the kappa had trapped his friend. Sometimes he's so polite it's painful, another time he acts like you can't hammer manners into him with a tree trunk. Far to close to his brother for his comfort. That's probably why no one's told him yet. He talked for a few minutes with the kappa; the kid really wasn't as bad as Sesshomaru had said. But Sesshomaru never had a very good grasp of people. The dog-lord tended to deal with them in two ways; devious and speaking only half of what he meant, or a full-out frontal assault of honesty. The poor guy couldn't seem to find the middle ground, which was why he couldn't keep a lover for any significant length of time. The fish-face was eyeing him very curiously, but Shippo wasn't worried. He had faced down much more experienced interrogators than a wet-behind-the-ears water sprite. Like the man sitting on his left side, looking bored with the whole thing already. The kid keeps glancing towards my room; why? "Kid, do you want to join me and my buds?" Shippo offered as the meaning of the boy's glances sank in. He chuckled at the child's twitch. He had obviously thought he was being very subtle. "We don't bite, I promise. And," Shippo jerked his thumb at the dog-lord, "I'll get Dopey over there to come to. You can bug him all you want." And he won't be able to protest. He owes me one. Shippo turned to Sesshomaru, asking "That alright with you?" Sesshomaru started to nod reflexively, then stopped as a strange look came over his face. He mumbled something that could have been a polite good bye, but given his vacant expression was most likely not, stood up and headed straight for the door. Shippo's eyes followed him curiously, wondering what could have had such an effect on his friend. His question was answered when a girl walked in through the door. Physically she met all of Sesshomaru's requirements: wide and cute. And Sesshomaru hasn't had any female companionship for how long? A decade? Two? This'll do the old boy some good. And get him out of my hair too. Shippo turned back to face the kappa, who was watching the new arrivals with some interest. A soft laugh brought him back to face Shippo, a startled expression on his face. "Well, it looks like we've been ditched. Still want to make a night of it?" Shippo offered, testing the kid. If he took it in the spirit intended; great. If not, he would be marked for future avoidance. Fortuantely the kid was not the hormonal type who heard an offer in every phrase. His eyes lit up, and he replied in the same coy way, "Gladly. I can't bear to face a night alone." Chuckling, Shippo linked his arm through the boy's and pulled him towards the left door. "Then let's get you in there. You'll find all the friends you could want, I promise you." The boy took it in stride, another point in his favor, and Shippo found himself looking forward to some time talking with this one. After all, a highly connected kappa was always a good thing to have handy. People did get such revolted looks when introduced to one.

A/N: Cliffy! I know it's not very dramatic, but this seemed like the best stopping place. Especially since I said I would update two weeks ago. :( College applications have taken over my life.

Interesting facts about Japanese mythology:

Kappas are Japanese water demons, who are rumored to eat humans or drink their blood through various orifices. They also are notorious rapists, and liked cucumbers. They are traditionally honest and trustworthy. People say that if you inscribe a name and age on a cucumber and throw it into a kappa pond, that person will not become a kappa victim(which usually meant drowning). The only way to defeat them is to trick them into bowing, so that the water in their bowl-shaped head will run out and they will lose all their strength. Then you can kill them or throw them back into their pond.