Chapter Five – The Plan Gets Personal


Sesshoumaru had not of course made reservations to Iris. A quick phone call during the drive cleared them a table without issue, and he stayed close, his thigh against hers, as he listened to her divulge details with slow reluctance on the journey over.

Kagome had been engaged until six months ago, to a hanyou named Naraku. Their relationship had been volatile, and when it grew so abusive she was hospitalized, she had fled. She refused to elaborate beyond parting her shirt and skirt's hems, revealing a white scar at her hip. The glimpse of skin, hiked in a flicker of flushed trust, made something unknown curl in his chest. Suppressing it swiftly, Sesshoumaru tried a variety of tactics to illicit more information, but the woman evaded his questions with unwavering tenacity.

When the car neared their destination, they fell quiet, filling the backseat with a laden mantle of unsaid things. Sesshoumaru had always been comfortable with silence, preferring the peace it gave, but as the driver turned into the restaurant's parking lot, he found its weight suffocating.

"I'm sorry, Miss Higurashi," he broke the hush in a whisper.

She didn't react to the apology's hitched note, gazing out the window. "Call me Kagome," she said mildly. "The person who now knows more about me than my own family ought to use my first name."

Sesshoumaru ducked through a nod, feeling fresh remorse crash anew. "I would've preferred to have earned the privilege in a less intrusive way."

At that, Kagome started with a jerk, swiveling towards him. "'Privilege?'" She parroted. "That sounded suspiciously like a compliment, sir."

"Was it?" He managed. "Aloof loners don't bestow such things."

A wan smile rose. "And that smacked of charm."

"A feat you declared impossible."

"From you."

"Perhaps neither of us are who we first appeared to be."

"Hmm," Kagome tapped her chin. "A daiyoukai wearing business suits isn't what he seems… I would've never guessed."

"My bookish persona had you making false assumptions readily."

"Yes," she scoffed. "'Persona', sir."

Sesshoumaru quirked a brow.

"I didn't envision you up to your elbows in dusty tomes without cause," Kagome's smile warmed.

He snorted. Five hundred years ago, none would have dared make such an egregious estimation. He was the ever-lethal, Killing Perfection. Her smile stayed, waiting for rebuttal, and he realized she was partly teasing, another singular feat. "I highly doubt your imagination can recreate my true nature," he obliged, somehow amused rather than incensed by her presumption. How could exposing one scar illicit such leniency? "I keep far more hidden than you do."

The sorrow in her eyes had bled away, replaced by twinkling wit. "Who knows? This plan may draw out as much in you as I've just laid bare."

"That is unlikely."

"You sure, Mr. Protective?"

Sesshoumaru didn't hesitate. "A sense of duty is not a great insight."

Kagome's smile waffled. "It is nowadays."

An irrational urge to keep her sadness at bay rose. "Perhaps you have just not surrounded yourself with the right people," he offered. "I am an unrivalled example, but there are other individuals who possess shades of my excellence."

The boast was rewarded with a light laugh. "Unbelievable. Another joke. I told you we'd get to know more about each other, sir."

Sesshoumaru cleared his throat, feeling the air grow charged. Their conversation had been serious and somber only a minute before, and he couldn't fathom how it had shifted so radically. Banter and levity were not battlefields he stepped onto often. Or ever. One might even mistake the exchange for flirting, though he lacked the experience to be certain. Unsure if it was one-sided, if the sudden pressure only affected him, he copied her, looking out his own window. "If we are starting to get better acquainted, and I am to use your given name, you should do me the same honor."

Kagome jerked again, and he felt satisfaction swell. His skills may not be honed, but he evidently possessed enough for a response.

The driver stopped the car and switched off the ignition. An overhead light came on as he exited the cab.

Cloth shuffled from outside as the employee readjusted his uniform, and Kagome cleared her throat. "Is your terrible idea actually going to make us friends?" She asked softly, reaching for her door's handle.

"After all your attempts with coffee and lunch options failed?" Sesshoumaru quipped.

Her hand faltered. "Many people find me winning," she countered, flicking him a crisp look.

"I have no doubt."

Blush bloomed in her cheeks. "They do."

"I was not speaking satirically."

Her blush darkened, stretching up to her hairline and down her neck. "Fine," she admitted grudgingly. "I was wrong about your level of game. Now quit it, sir."

Sesshoumaru chose to ignore the swell of his ego at her unintended compliment, giving her a pointed look at her continued use of rank. "I thought we had moved to first names?"

"I'll decide when to 'honor' you."

Her trust was as fragile as Rin's. "Then I shall wait with anticipation," he said as the chauffer opened Kagome's door for her.

She made a face, thinking surely, he was being sarcastic this time, before doling a warm 'thank you' to their driver.

It was Sesshoumaru's turn to be startled, for he realized the sentiment had been just as serious.


The young woman waiting to seat customers nearly preened at her podium, having won the impromptu drawing-of-straws to see who got to greet Sesshoumaru Taisho when he arrived.

He didn't disappoint, gorgeous as ever as he traipsed past the doorman with a clipped nod. He was all strong, pronounced lines – long, silver hair, striking jawline, tailored coat – refined and exotic with a slight air of menace that sent thrilled shivers through her. She drank in his demon features with relish, delighting in the danger they promised, and fixed him with a thousand-watt smile as he neared.

"Good evening, Mr. Taisho," she gushed. "It's so good to see—," the hostess faltered as something shifted behind him. Her dazzling smile dimmed when Kagome stepped into view, pulling off her hat and absently handing it to him as she straightened her hair.

Sesshoumaru was known for his scathing looks and lack of patience, but he took the ridiculous hat in stride, openly watching his companion comb wayward locks with hasty fingers. The focus in his gaze spoke volumes, as if he wished to run a hand through them himself, and the hostess' grin fell entirely.

Oblivious, Kagome surveyed the restaurant. Iris oozed with trendiness; the clatter of plates, tinkle of refilled glasses, and lilt of laughter swirled amid frosted strings of lights, ludicrous amounts of lit candles, and exceptionally well-dressed patrons. Kagome clutched at the buttons of her jacket, self-conscious of her own ensemble, until Sesshoumaru reached for her purse so she could rid herself of the winter layer. She shot him a sullen glare, which slid from her face instantly as he graced her with a smooth smile.

"You look perfect," he assured, the words velvet and sanguine.

Kagome couldn't decide which was more alien – his upturned mouth or the repelling amount of confidence in his tone – and comforted herself by clinging to her coat tighter.

"Welcome back, Mr. Taisho," the hostess tried again, interjecting to draw his eye. "We haven't seen you in a while."

"Hn," he agreed. Rin had insisted on eating here for her last birthday, and he had endured the evening only for her. The establishment seemed exclusively staffed by young, fawning women, and it appeared the personnel hadn't changed since his last visit. The hostess reeked of mounting jealousy, and he scrunched up his nose, deciding Kagome's ever-present perfume was a much-preferred alternative.

"Well, I'll show you and your…," the server gave Kagome a once over, judgement evident. "Colleague here...," there was no way this woman, touting mittens like she was five, was his girlfriend. She screamed 'secretary' or 'babysitter'. "To your table. Right this way."

"A moment," Sesshoumaru held up a hand. "My date and I need to finish removing our coats."

The hostess' jaw dropped as Kagome stuffed said mittens into a pocket and began fumbling with her buttons. Sesshoumaru followed suit, taking off his scarf and jacket with more grace than anyone deserved for such a mundane task. Folding them over his arm, he slipped a claw under the strap of Kagome's purse. Not waiting for permission this time, he lifted it from her shoulder so she could shrug herself free – which she did with much more static and far less finesse. Extracted from its volumes, Kagome reclaimed her bag and squared her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said. "Now I'm ready."

The server flushed an angry, unattractive shade of purple-red, and spun on her heel, marching off with stiff steps. Sesshoumaru shot Kagome another smile, this one private and conspiring, and held out his arm for her to lead the way.

Disconcerted at this sudden abundance of smiles – she'd been sure all his mouth could manage was an occasional spasm of amusement – Kagome hurried after the woman, weaving through seated customers deftly.

The restaurant's main dining area was overly warm from all the crowded tables and pounds of wavering light set in melting wax. The hostess led them to a far corner, where the candles were fewer, the noise less oppressive, and the space between tables more generous.

"Is this alright, Mr. Taisho?" The woman turned, peeking at Sesshoumaru's ears.

Kagome realized the din of the main room must be tremendous with his hearing – it had almost been too much for her. How did he not get a splitting headache with all the chewing, drinking, and conversation?

Instead of answering, Sesshoumaru turned to her. "What do you think, Kagome? Is the table to your liking?"

The hostess' cheeks splotched with more color, and Kagome worried she might rupture something. Oh, he's positively evil, she thought with a touch of glee. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing, she managed her own nod.

"Then yes," he drawled. "It will suffice. Thank you."

The server stammered and excused herself, forgetting to leave menus or recite the night's specials as she fled. When Sesshoumaru hung their jackets on nearby hooks and pulled Kagome's chair out for her, she shot him a reproving look.

"You are wicked," she said, keeping her voice low. Pulling her chair up to the table, she watched him circle around and seat himself, unabashedly smug.

"Not true," he protested, examining his claws in the candlelight. "I've just found another use for our subterfuge aside from convincing Rin," golden eyes met hers. "It is gratifying having a vehicle to put shallow, lesser individuals in their place."

"Well I think it's broken you," she pressed, leaning forward. "What's with all the smiling?"

"You are not the only one who plays a part, Kagome. I have altered much of myself to exist in this world," his stare made the room fall away. "I just don't enact as many falsehoods at the office."

Kagome mulled his words, canting her head as she reassessed his features.

This time, Sesshoumaru did straighten, keeping his expression blank.

Seemingly pleased by what she saw, she ventured a grin. "Guess that makes us quite the pair."

"It would seem so."