It should have been stranger than it was to have him in her family's home, but as things stood, the only thing Kagome really felt about it was relief.
"You can set that down wherever you want," she said, tossing her housekey on the console. She flicked on a lamp and let the soft orange light cast its glow around the entryway before turning back to him and giving a small shrug, smiling slightly. "Everyone else is out of town."
Sesshoumaru nodded his acknowledgement and stepped out of the shadows near the doorway into the lamplight, eyes slowly taking in the main living area as he made his way to the couch and let the pelt in question slip from his shoulder.
Kagome watched in silence as he arranged it on the couch, still not quite believing the turn her day had taken. One minute she was in shock over seeing something from an era gone by on display for the world. The next she was a crazy woman in a bidding battle with someone she would have never fought that vehemently in the past, sneaking out of an auction house with said item in her possession. And now? Now the past stood in her living room about to have dinner with her.
"Thanks for coming." She reached up and tightened her ponytail, desperate for something to do with her hands as the still too-human eyes looked back at her. "You know, even though I ran off with your—" She paused and cocked her head to the side, nose wrinkling as her eyes slid to the pile of fluff on the couch. "Actually, I really never knew what that was." She turned her attention back to him. "What is it?"
"My tail." Elegant hands nonchalantly smoothed over the front of his charcoal slacks before glowing amber locked onto her face. "You, Miko, had me chasing my own tail over Tokyo."
Oh, she mouthed, color draining from her face. The edges of her vision darkened a bit. I stole the Lord of the West's butt…
Said lord glared a little.
"Yes, oh."
Kagome placed one hand on her forehead as she closed her eyes and braced the other against the console table. That really wasn't what she had been expecting to hear, and quite frankly, she didn't think she would have appreciated having a piece of her run off with either.
"Miko?"
"I'm fine," she croaked out, leaning a bit more heavily against the table. "Really. I just need"—her knees buckled a bit—"a moment."
"Are you alright?"
Leaning heavily, Kagome finally looked up and laughed. "I'm fine!" Her voice was too high-pitched even for her own ears. She couldn't imagine what it was doing to him.
"I do not think—"
"It's fine." Without warning, tears began to pour down her cheeks, and she noticed the slight widening of his eyes before she gave up and sank down to the floor, powerless to stop her reaction. Choking back a sob, she pulled up her knees and buried her face. "T-totally fine."
Kagome didn't expect him to sit down beside her.
"You should perhaps re-evaluate what that word means."
She turned her head and lay her cheek on her knees to look at him only to find a white handkerchief suspended by her face. Their eyes met for a moment when she glanced up at him, and she wondered at the calm understanding she saw there.
Maybe he's lonely too.
With a sniffle, she finally reached up and took the proffered handkerchief. "Thanks."
Sesshoumaru leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "You are welcome."
Dabbing her face, Kagome wiped away the drying salt trails on her cheeks and tilted her own head back to rest against the wall. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes stung with fresh tears, and a thick lump in her throat threatened to choke her. It was all uncomfortable and overwhelming, and the band-like sensation tightening around her ribs made it all worse.
"Breathe, Miko," he murmured quietly, and she opened her eyes to find his focused on her. That brilliant citrine she hadn't seen for a decade blinked slowly, not dropping her gaze, and she could see her reflection in the dark, wide pupils. "It will pass."
"Is that experience speaking?" She lifted her head then and stretched out her legs, not quite sure why it was so easy to speak candidly with him.
His legs stretched out beside hers. "Perhaps."
"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it.
Sesshoumaru merely shrugged.
They sat in silence then, though for how long she wasn't sure. And during that time, she kept sneaking quick glances his way. It was still strange seeing him like that—sans markings with his hair tied back and his face almost human. Only his unique coloring stood out.
Without thinking, she reached out and traced his wrist. "What happened to these?"
His line of sight followed hers, and he turned his hand until his palm faced upward. If he minded when she pressed her fingertips to his, her awe over the lack of claws apparent, he didn't show it. "A simple spell."
"Oh." She pushed on his fingers like piano keys, biting her bottom lip as she did. Like everything else, his fingers seemed wrong. They were still long and slender, but they were wrong without the sharply tapered points of his claws.
With a nostalgia that made her question her sanity, she remembered the graceful way they extended the first time they met as he tried to melt her.
You need therapy, Kagome.
She also needed to cook.
Pushing aside her desire for a complete meltdown and the release it would bring, Kagome stood. "How does katsudon sound?" It would be quick enough to make. She had set the rice cooker that morning, so it would be waiting, and she had just made fresh dashi the day before. Besides, it was comfort food, and she needed comfort food right then.
Sesshoumaru pushed to a stand next to her and nodded, the long, tied-back tail of hair falling over his shoulder as he did. "That is fine."
"Great," she said, wiping suddenly clammy palms on her jeans.
It didn't help much. The sensation of damp wouldn't go away, and Kagome unconsciously continued rubbing her hands against the coarse material, her eyes glued to his form, looking him over. She knew she was gawking—knew it was rude, but she couldn't help it. He was something tangible. Real.
Here.
The hollow feeling she had become more than acquainted with since being stranded in her time settled in her chest, and her arms automatically came up to wrap around herself. "Sesshoumaru?"
"Yes?"
His gaze was sharp discerning, and her fingers twitched at her sides. "You…you mentioned a spell?"
A slender brow arched. "I did."
Clearing her throat, Kagome finally clasped her fidgeting hands in front of her and looked away. "Could you, you know, get rid of it?" Her eyes slid up to his then, the raw vulnerability she felt impossible to hide anymore. "It's just…it's been a while and—" She paused, averting her eyes again as she searched for the words she needed.
But they never came. He stood waiting, more patient than she would have anticipated as she struggled to find her voice. Hesitated to reveal just how desperately lonely she was. But in the end, she just looked back at his face and sighed with a tired kind of surrender.
"You don't have to hide here." Her voice was small and quiet, even to her own ears. "And it would be nice to see, well, you."
She pressed her lips together then as she glanced up at him from under her lashes and hoped that she hadn't just pressed her luck.
Sesshoumaru, however, did not seem to mind.
"It has been a long time," he said, pushing the dark blue sleeves up a bit more, "since I have revealed myself to anyone."
His scrutiny set intently on her, and she swallowed. "How long?"
"Decades."
"That is a long time," she said quietly. She couldn't imagine what it had been like hiding his nature for years like that.
"Hn." He closed his eyes then, and she watched the barely perceptible movement of his lips before a rush of youki crashed over her.
Kagome's breath hitched. The pulse of power she felt should have knocked her back and put her on the floor, but she managed to hold her ground, not once looking away from him. Below the rolled cuffs of his sleeves, dark magenta markings slowly faded back into existence while the blunted fingernails sharpened into the viciously tapered points she had missed. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, and she glanced up at his face to see the markings across his cheekbones reappear along with the familiar indigo moon, its slight tilt just as she remembered it.
A waning crescent.
The abrupt rise of power disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, and Kagome stepped forward as if in a trance just as he opened his eyes.
Preternatural, reptilian-like gold locked onto her, and she almost shrunk back from the shock of seeing such a stark, predatory gaze again.
"I do not bite, Kagome," he said, lips twitching in amusement.
She looked at him completely deadpan. "We both know that's bullshit, Sesshoumaru."
He chuckled then, the sound unexpected but strangely pleasant, and reached behind his head to release his hair from its clip. "Is it?"
She gave him a look as he shook his hands through the silver mass, letting the strands relax and fall freely after their previous constraint. "I'm going to assume that's rhetorical." Though much shorter than it had been in the past, his hair was still long by modern standards and fell just past his shoulder blades.
Pushing aside her previous anxiety, Kagome stepped forward, her curiosity getting the best of her. "You really did cut it."
Sesshoumaru looked down, observing her as intently as she did him. "It was not practical to keep it so long anymore."
"No, I guess not." Her arm felt heavy as she raised her hand, hovering just by his face, and she tried not to dwell on why him cutting his hair bothered her as much as it did. "May I?"
His brows knit slightly, but he leaned forward anyway and was polite enough to not comment on the strangeness of her request.
A quick breath helped her ignore the nervous fluttering in her stomach. She couldn't remember ever really having knowingly touched him before. But the fur she had found herself surrounded by earlier in the afternoon had been so soft and so silky that she now had an undefinable need to know if his hair was the same or not.
No, that's not weird at all, Kagome.
"Kagome?"
She flashed a quick, nervous smile. Then, refusing to overthink things anymore, she carefully let her fingers comb through the long tresses that fell over his shoulder.
It was better than she had imagined. His hair was fine but thick simply due to the sheer quantity of strands, and the heavy weight fell like water through her fingers. And each time it sifted through her fingers, that ancient scent once again drifted faintly past.
"Hinoki wood," she whispered. The brief smile that flashed on his face made her relax a bit, and she reached up higher, careful not to cause tangles.
"It is strange that the scent of the woods is what you remembered."
"Maybe not," she mused quietly, combing through again. "They say scent is the sense most closely tied to our memories." Her fingertips accidentally brushed the shell of his ear, and she pulled back. "Sorry."
Sesshoumaru straightened slowly. "It is fine."
She gave him a wan smile. "I still owe you dinner." Her nose wrinkled. "And probably a drink now."
He smirked and didn't say anything, but his eyes sparkled a bit.
It was enough though, and for the first time since the auction house, a genuine smile lit Kagome's face as some of the tension melted out of her shoulders. "Come on." She turned toward the kitchen and motioned for him to follow. "Do you drink wine?"
oOoOoOo
Kagome felt like she had fallen into the Twilight Zone.
Oil sizzled as she dropped two panko dredged pork chops into her pan. She idly took a small swallow of her wine, moving the meat around a bit as she did to make sure it wasn't sticking. The savory scent of cooking pork contrasted nicely with the apple and peach notes of the dry Sauvignon Blanc on her tongue, and she sipped at it again, stealing a sideways glance at her companion as she did.
Sesshoumaru had insisted on helping—whether it was to truly be helpful or simply a need to occupy himself with something to avoid awkward conversation she wasn't sure. But there he was next to her, using his claws to slice through green onion and strips of nori on a cutting board as he stole sips of wine throughout the process of preparing their meal as she did.
And it was all strangely comfortable.
Draining the rest of her glass, Kagome flipped the cutlets frying on the stove and grabbed the wine bottle "Care for more?"
It was his turn to glance at her from the corner of his eyes, a small smirk pulling at his mouth. "Plying me with alcohol, Miko?" He turned his attention back to slicing, scoring off onion roots like he didn't have a care in the world. "One might think you had ulterior motives."
Kagome gaped. Did he just—
She thunked the bottle down onto the counter and gave him a little glare. "Alright, who are you and what happened to Sesshoumaru?"
His smirk softened to a quiet smile, but his eyes were far away as he spoke. "Time." His gaze slanted back to hers. "And yes—to the wine."
Refilling his glass and then her own, Kagome transferred the meat to simmer for a few minutes in the seasoned dashi and egg mixture before moving to the rice cooker to scoop some of the sticky grain into bowls. "Was time unkind?"
Sesshoumaru turned then, leaning back on the counter. "It was time." Broad shoulders shrugged almost carelessly as he raised his glass, his lips wrapping around from the narrow aperture to take a sip as he gathered his thoughts. "It simply passes as it does."
"Not for everyone," she said quietly.
Their eyes met then, a silent understanding passing between them.
Sesshoumaru inclined his head slightly. "I stand corrected."
Kagome swallowed then, her throat suddenly too tight, and set to finishing their bowls. Her hands shook as she gripped the spatula to slide their food over the rice, and she had to take extra care not to spill anything.
"When did you know?" Putting the first bowl down, she grabbed her wine and took a large gulp, nearly choking in her desperation to wet her dry throat. "About the well, I mean."
"Not until the moment you disappeared."
"Oh." With a frown, she finished the second bowl.
"They missed you." He didn't talk for a moment, looking down into his glass as he swirled the pale liquid. "Every day."
Numbness took hold of her shoulders without warning. Its oppressive, dull fingers began to trace over her body against her will, razing open the profound loneliness she had struggled with for too long now. It threatened to swallow her again, and for the second time that night, her knees began to buckle.
She caught herself on the counter.
"Miko?"
Head swimming, Kagome closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She dreaded asking but at the same time couldn't stop herself. "What happened?" Straightening her spine, she ignored the rasp in her voice, and leaned heavily against a cutlery drawer. "To Inuyasha…my friends…yours…what happ—"
"After dinner." His tone was sharp and his face more severe than it had been all evening, and he didn't drop her eyes. "Ask me after dinner."
The dryness in her throat turned to a dull ache as she looked back at him. For a moment he was Sesshoumaru as she remembered him again. But instead of any fear or trepidation, all she felt was the unkind prickle of nostalgia.
"After dinner sounds good," she said, picking up their meal. It had been ten years. She could wait a bit longer.
Sesshoumaru's features relaxed, and he reached over to take the bowls from her. "Let me."
It was almost a relief to relinquish the food to his hands. He took the bowls, and before following him to the table, Kagome went to the refrigerator and pulled out another bottle of white—a Riesling this time.
She reached in a drawer and snatched a corkscrew. "How's your alcohol tolerance?"
The small smirk she was becoming more and more accustomed to came back.
"Bring it."
A/N: Thank you for hanging out and reading! Chapter 3 is about half way done and should be out soon. As always, reviews or comments are appreciated. 3
