STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY: Inuyasha and all its characters do not belong to me. They belong to their rightful owner, Rumiko Takahashi. This is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.

Title: In Pursuit of Happiness
Author: Gladiel
Series: Inuyasha
Genre: Romance, Humor
Pairing: Sesshoumaru x Kagome
Rating: M
Chapter Summary: Who knew old friends and wives can become united under one subject: fashion?

IN PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
chapter eight
escapades



"You really have to thank me for this," Sango eyed Miroku as he flipped through the channels.

"Hm? For what?" he answered absent-mindedly, devouring popcorn like a dragon eating townspeople. He licked his lips. "Butter."

"Kagome agreed to tell you," Sango continued without looking at him.

Miroku perked up. Something was going on, as he suspected, but neither of the women has told him something. "What exactly is going on?"

"Well, you'd be surprised but…"

"But…?"

"Kagome. Well, Kagome, our Kagome - the Defender of Justice and Magnet of Misfortunes - she's married."

Upon the word 'married', Miroku lurched forward in a fit of coughs.

"I'm so sorry!" Sango handed him his glass of orange juice. "Here, drink."

Miroku gratefully took the glass and said, after finally calming down, "Surprised? That's an understatement. I can't fucking believe it. Kagome-sama? Married? Her reactions are so bland when it comes to men," he started rambling in disbelief. "When I first met the two of you, I thought that you two had it together."

"Excuse me?"

"Or maybe she was bi? That's what I thought. And now out of the blue…she married overnight?"

Sango narrowed her eyes at him. "So are you over your shock now?

"I'm getting there," he nodded as he leaned backwards on the couch.

"And thank you very much for being so honest with your first impressions about us. So it was Kagome and Sango, eh?"

Miroku shrugged. "I met her first. When I tried hitting on her—"

Sango pulled a pillow beside her and hit him with it. "You hit on every girl."

"But my playboy days are over!" he defended desperately. "You know why! And as I was explaining, she never seemed to be interested in any guy. What was I to think? Except that she must be lesbian! And well, since you actually went out with men then maybe you were bi," he continued before pausing. "Wait, I'm getting confused."

Sango sighed. It seems that her best friend and boyfriend's train of thought was the same. Really, what did she do to deserve idiots for companions? At least, that's how they were sometimes. "I was telling her the possibility of her 'husband' being gay. And she actually came to the conclusion that her 'husband', A.K.A. employer, was having this fling with his male secretary."

Miroku's face crumpled into a hilarious expression. His mouth was slightly open, eyes wide, and eye browns knit together. "Seriously?"

"Of course not! I'd know when two men are dating. Kagome just can't tell the difference. I nearly died. Choked to death. Literally. Sometimes I wonder how an intelligent girl like her can be so clueless about people."

"But it's Kagome. She needs more people skills."

"And so do you," Sango sighed.

"But girl friendships are always too intimate for men to decipher the truth!"

Sango couldn't help but laugh. "If you thought that we had that kind of relationship, I would've asked Kagome to play along with me!" But Miroku didn't escape the force of her hand hitting him.

"Ow!" he tried to block Sango's attacks with his open palms in front of his face.

"That's for being Miroku."

"You're the only one I can name who blames me for being myself. You have weird mood swings, too."

"Sometimes I ask myself why I'm still with you."

Miroku's lips thinned.

"I'm kidding, silly."

Like a kid who was forgiven, Miroku's lips curled into a big smile. "So, tell me the whole story. How did it happen?"


-----------------------------------------


Kagome waltzed in for the eighteenth time, wearing white fit formal pants and a collared, long-sleeved top that shifted from black to white, a printed gradient with black Arabic letters.

"Well?"

Sesshoumaru shook his head. "That won't do."

"What?" Kagome cried, indignant. "This is the hundredth set of clothes I matched!"

"Eighteenth," he corrected.

"Eighteenth! It doesn't matter! Look," Kagome crossed her arms, "these are the only clothes I've got. I'm not some fancy rich woman and my job never required me to go beyond reasonable expenses."

"We're going to a picnic hosted by one of Japan's elite. None of your clothes are appropriate for the event."

"A picnic? A picnic? What do those silly, rich bastards wear on picnics? If it matters to the lot of them, then I'm going naked."

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow.

"They can ogle all they like," she mumbled. "Well, what do you want me to do? I don't have anything appropriate, as you said it," she glared.

"You're going because this is what I'm paying you for."

There wasn't anything she could do. Sesshoumaru's word was law, and she was the wife who was obliged to follow it. Kagome, sulking childishly, dropped on the couch. Ignoring her, Sesshoumaru pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. A voice answered from the other line before Sesshoumaru continued, "Maruyama? This is Yokoba Sesshoumaru."

"Ah, Sesshou! How nice of you to call! This is unexpected. Whatever do you need me for?" a male voice rattled over the other line.

"I forbid you from calling me by that name, Maruyama."

"Habit, sorry."

"I apologize for calling. Is the time convenient?" Sesshoumaru asked politely.

"Don't worry, dahling. I'm not particularly busy. May I ask the reason for this call?"

"Actually, I need a new wardrobe for my wife."

"Oh, yes, forgive me! I forgot! Congratulations, by the way. I saw it in the paper. I felt bad, you know, that you didn't even tell me you were getting married! Nobody knows the lady! It's not my place to say, but I would have offered to make your lovely wife a wedding gown, or a wedding kimono, if you were to do it in traditional style. You know it's my forte."

"There were…unexpected circumstances."

"Ah, well, what's done was done," the person on the other line said with a sigh.

"Is your schedule vacant this afternoon? Forgive our haste, but we were invited to an event sometime this week and I found it necessary to shop for new sets."

"Let me see…yes, yes. A few minor reschedules is possible. I can accommodate you this afternoon, if you need it. My doors are always open to your family, Sesshoumaru."

"Thank you."

"Drop by at three and I'll handle everything for your dear wife from there. And are you looking for anything specific?"

"I plan to purchase whatever you have for different occasions, formal especially. But please include a summer wardrobe."

"Well, I'll give you my best. You know I always do."

"Yes. Thank you," Sesshoumaru said before sliding the cell phone close. He glanced at Kagome who was faithfully keeping the image of a sulking kid. "We'll buy some clothes after lunch."

Kagome kept a hard look of hatred. "Yes, I heard."

Sesshoumaru kept his silence.

Kagome, starting to cool down, decided to ask, "Who was he? The person you called?"

"Maruyama Keita. His mother was a friend of my mother."

That pricked Kagome's attention. Never mind the question on Maruyama Keita's identity. Sesshoumaru never mentioned his family before. Except for the time when they discussed the 'proposal' but otherwise, information about his parents or siblings, if any, have never been shared.

"Oh. How?" Kagome asked cautiously, in case Sesshoumaru decided not to say anything at all.

"His mother designed my mother's clothes."

"Your mother? I've never met her," Kagome started to say, eyes bright and voice cheerful. "Maybe one of these days we could--"

"No, it doesn't matter. Mother is dead."

"Oh...sorry." Kagome started to feel guilty. It was definitely a better idea not to have asked about his family. He probably would tell her when he's ready and when he wanted to. "I shouldn't have asked."

Sesshoumaru shook his head. "It was a very long time ago."

A short silence, uncomfortable merely because the other did not quite know how to handle the sudden strain in their situation, made itself evident. Sesshoumaru broke the unwelcome stillness by standing from his relaxed position, saying, "Let's go."

"Where?" Kagome asked, a bit confused, as she turned her attention back at the man who closed himself from the world, leaving her thoughts and curiosity momentarily tucked away.

"We're eating lunch at Antica Osteria del Ponte."

"Italian?" Kagome stared. "Or is that Spanish?"

"Italian," he confirmed. "Or do you prefer Japanese cuisine? There are also excellent restaurants offering Chinese dishes, if you like to try something different," he offered politely.

"Is that still in Tokyo?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course," Sesshoumaru answered, exasperation slowly gathering like dust accumulating in the corners of a room. "Where did you assume it was? Italy?"

Kagome rolled her eyes. "I just…don't go to places like those. Posh restaurants."

"It's at the Marunouchi building," Sesshoumaru gave an attempt to explain. "It's in Tokyo."

Kagome imagined him adding, 'You dolt,' and managed a smile. It'd never happen, but the scene was still comical. "Alright, I guess."

All it took was a glance from Sesshoumaru before he said, "Put your coat on."


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Kagome had to admit. She liked it. She was awed by the home-like comfort the restaurant emanated. It was a room wrapped with peach-colored wallpaper patterned with light curving patterns. Pale blue curtains hung from the windows while golden light decorated the walls. The tables were covered with impeccable white tablecloth with summer colored-flowers in vases on top while the chairs were dark wood covered with what seemed like soft peach cushions patterned with swirls.

A waiter, in the usual Western style of black-and-white of course, greeted them as they entered the restaurant. The ambiance and good service (as Kagome noted) was enough to make her feel good about the place. And Sesshoumaru was being extra nice towards her. Nearly like a gentleman at least. He was polite; he seemed concerned, as if he was trying to make their situation work out until their 'contract' was over that Kagome thought that maybe they could be friends—

"Do you plan on ogling at inanimate decorations all afternoon?" a man's voice interrupted her thoughts of admiration.

A gentleman?

"Wide eyes. Open mouth. How unbecoming."

Okay. Scratch that. It was too good to be true anyway.

Kagome leaned back on her chair and sighed. "How can you say all that without faltering? And all three at one go."

"Did the truth hurt that much?" he asked calmly, without twitching, and with all confidence.

"No. I just handle lies well," she rejoined with a smile.

A waiter approached them and handed them a menu each. Kagome took hers with a nod before opening it and tried to read the list of food the restaurant had to offer.

She bit her lips. She almost couldn't understand a thing except that some of the dishes probably had to deal with scallops, pasta, and roast peppers. She put the menu down carefully and took a deep breath. Across her, Sesshoumaru was, as it seemed to Kagome, busy trying to decide on the best meal the restaurant had to offer.

"Uh…" she started nervously.

Sesshoumaru glanced at her.

"I'll just take whatever you're ordering," she reddened.

She was embarrassed. He nodded without saying a word or taunts this time. He gave their order to the waiter who carefully noted down each dish and wine. Meanwhile, Kagome's mouth watered at the photos of pasta sprinkled with green leaves, pepper, and meat. A gallery of other dishes made her stomach rumble.

Sesshoumaru's lips twitched.

"I saw that!" she hissed.

"And I heard it."

"You didn't!"

"Why would I lie about such a thing as lions living inside stomachs? And yours a rather titanic one."

"You should pretend you didn't! Bastard!" Kagome answered furiously, cheeks as red as roses in bloom.

He shrugged. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should in front of a woman!"

"Woman? You? Aged teenager would be a more appropriate description, don't you think?"

She glared at him across the table. "You're so…so…"

"So…?"

Kagome bit her lip angrily and glanced sideways. "Never mind."

He wasn't smirking nor was he smiling but Kagome knew he was sitting on the damned chair with triumph.

She wanted to run herself into a wall. How long will it take before they go to the eating proper?


-----------------------------------------


The building was the second thing that awed Kagome. It was not nearly so tall as others in Tokyo but there were countless of clothing brands sold inside, as was shown on clear glass walls at the ground floor. The place wasn't very flooded by people to the point of giving a stressful atmosphere but there was a good number of them coming and going.

"Does your friend…what was his name again?" Kagome stated, "Maru…"

"Maruyama Keita."

"Ah, yes, like the hot singer!" Kagome nodded cheerfully.

Sesshoumaru remained impassive despite Kagome's sudden bubbly attitude. "What about him?"

"Does he live here?" she asked as she curiously peered through her bangs to see how high the building stood.

"Of course not."

"Does he own it?"

"His family does."

"And they rent it to other clothing businesses?"

Sesshoumaru was getting tired of their question-and-answer conversation. "Why does it matter?"

"I just want to have an idea of what your friend does, that's all," she answered simply.

It was doubtless that the woman beside him was unpredictable. At one point she was close to exploding that he thought she'd walk out of the restaurant but an hour later she was oddly…affable.

"We are not friends."

"Your mothers were, so that makes you friends," she imposed.

"Humph."

"Humph," Kagome mimicked.

Sesshoumaru glanced sideways at her when a loud greeting echoed throughout the ground floor. A man was marching towards the two. He was quite young, his skin was fair, his eyes were wide and black and his hair was styled and straight with a smile glowing in his face.

Truth be told, Kagome thought that Maruyama Keita was a beautiful man. Not as beautiful as Sesshoumaru (because, really, Kagome didn't really believe that a human with a face like Sesshoumaru even existed until, well, until she saw his face and…er. You know.) but pretty enough to be hired as a model for magazines.

"Sesshou!"

Kagome's eyes widened slightly, lips twitching to the left. "Sesshou?" she echoed. She was ready to release a guffaw. This, of course, did not escape Sesshoumaru's notice and her discovery of his most-hated nickname was very displeasing to our lord.

"Dahling!" The second name was worse.

Dahling? Kagome remembered Sango's flat-out response regarding her suggestion about Sesshoumaru and Jaken. The assumption that Sesshoumaru was gay still stood and this time, Kagome wondered if he had a different kind of relationship with his 'not-a-friend'.

"That's Yokoba Sesshoumaru, Maruyama," his voice was petulant.

Last name? Well, of course Sesshoumaru would remain authoritative and…straight in public, or in front of her, Kagome convinced herself. What else would explain the pet name "Sesshou"?

"You should learn to get rid of last names," Keita pouted playfully. His attention shifted to Kagome and she greeted him with a bow. "The lovely wife, I presume?"

"Higurashi Kagome," she introduced herself.

Keita tucked his chin between his fingers in deep thought. "Of course, I needn't expect less from Sesshoumaru."

"I'm sorry?" Kagome asked, bemused.

"You're prettier than most girls."

"Ah, er…" Kagome mumbled, quite lost as to how to respond. "Thanks."

"Well then, shall we go?" the man offered.

"For once I concur," Sesshoumaru agreed with a nod. "We don't plan on staying too long."

Keita led walked with them to the escalator. Kagome could not help but covet the clothes and the footwear displayed in the different stores. Keita noticed this and smiled. "The lady wishes to try on some clothes?"

Startled, Kagome stood stiffly. "Uh, no, I was just admiring them."

"The largest department is at the second floor," he offered cheerfully. "Since our family has our own designing company."

"I see…" Kagome smiled. The three of them were now walking towards what seemed to be a large department store with mannequins dressed in various clothing of different styles near the glass window and scattered around the area of the floor.

Sesshoumaru remained a spectator as the two exchanged words. Maruyama talked about the latest fashions and what would look becoming to Higurashi. She would nod and smile, and at times radiate with gratefulness and delight. He didn't think she would enjoy their shopping escapade. She was a sulking dress-up doll at home that it didn't occur to him that the woman would actually like pretty clothes.

Keita grabbed Kagome's arm and dragged her towards a large fitting room with Sesshoumaru tailing behind. It had three long full-length mirrors and there were two women to assist any customer. Inside the room adjoined a smaller one whose entrance was covered by thick curtain-like fabric.

"Accompany Yokoba Sesshoumaru's wife to the dressing room," Keita said to the two women.

"This way, Yokoba-sama," on of them bowed to Kagome. For a second she wasn't aware that she was the one being addressed but it soon occurred to her that she had taken the last name of Sesshoumaru. "Ah, yes." She blindly followed the two behind the curtain.

The two men stood wordlessly for a few seconds before Keita turned towards the taller man. He started rambling about the current fashion trends and its relationship with the business industry. Once or twice Sesshoumaru nodded but he did not offer more than ten words in the conversation.

"Your wife has a nice figure," Keita complimented.

Sesshoumaru looked sharply at his family friend.

Keita grinned. "I'm committed to another, don't worry."

His face hardened. "You misunderstood. I didn't mean—"

"Maruyama-sama, Yokoba-sama," the two women emerged from behind the curtains and bowed. One of them pulled the curtain to the left, revealing a Kagome that Sesshoumaru wasn't very well acquainted with.

She stepped out while trying to straighten out the dress, nervously running her palms over it.

"Kagome! You look charming! We could have white boots to go with this," Keita said enthusiastically. "No, maybe not boots. Too warm. We'll have the perfect shoes to go with that later."

She looked skeptical. "Maruyama-san, I really am inclined to believe that you're overdoing compliments."

"I'm hurt!" he said dramatically, complete with the back of his hand resting on his forehead. "And please, call me Keita. One of you should at least use my first name."

"Sorry, Maru—Keita." Kagome laughed, her voice light. "You have flair for dramatics, I noticed," she grinned. "In any case, it is comfortable. And I like the texture of the dress." She turned her attention to Sesshoumaru. "Well, will something like this do?"

"Sesshoumaru?" Keita asked the second time.

He snapped out of his silent musings. "Ah, yes, I'm sorry."

"I was asking you if you think this blue dress would look beautiful on your wife."

It was a sleeveless dress in blue and white that fit in the middle of casual and formal wear. The style was refreshing. The clear azure and white colors were set in a large checkered pattern across the fabric. It had a white collar and a line of dove-colored buttons at the right.

"It's perfect," he agreed emotionlessly.

"You don't sound like it," Kagome muttered.

Sesshoumaru thought that the blue and white complimented her dark auburn eyes and ebony hair that lay straight behind her back. She was pretty. Silently he commented that if her hair were curled, she would look more fashionable. "It's good."

"Sesshoumaru, you're a man of too-few words," said Keita carelessly. "But, really, Kagome darling, you look beautiful. Not that you don't without the dress. But I'm sure Sesshoumaru's a perfect witness to that."

Kagome reddened.

"Maruyama…" growled Sesshoumaru.

He brushed the threat away. "We'll get proper shoes later. We've the perfect shops just below. Come; let's look for other clothes. I prepared a fine set for you!"


-----------------------------------------


It took Kagome and Sesshoumaru the whole afternoon to purchase her new wardrobe. Right after their shopping jaunt, the two drove back to the flat.

"I'm glad we're going home! I'm dead tired!" Kagome stretched her arms and legs inside the car.

"Are you hungry? I can make a reservation."

"Do you have to ask that as if you're asking merely because you've been trained to?" Kagome snapped. "And no thank you. I'd like to eat at home."

He did not answer back. Instead, he turned his attention to the world outside the car windows. They drove home in silence as Kagome was lulled to sleep by the moving car. It did not take long for them to arrive home and Sesshoumaru had to wake her up.

"Higurashi. We're here."

Kagome was determined not to be disturbed. Her eyes stayed blissfully closed; her cherry lips were glued together in a small pout-like "u". Sesshoumaru noticed that even in sleep, she seemed far from being, in the terms of the world, an adult.

"Sir, should I open the door?" the driver asked, aware that his master's wife was sleeping.

"No, I'll handle it," he said before turning his attention back to the sleeping woman. "Higurashi."

There was still no response. Annoyed, Sesshoumaru tapped her shoulders. "Woman, we're here." She stirred and for a few seconds he thought she was about to wake up. Contrary to his supposition, she settled more comfortably at the corner of the car,.

In short, she was hopelessly lost in dreamland.

Sesshoumaru decided that if being polite in waking the woman up was ineffective, other measures should be taken. Seeing that she was leaning on the door, he extended his arms and pulled the door slightly open, enough for Kagome to fall back towards the side of the car, hitting her head and waking up in the process.

"Ow!" she complained, rubbing her head. Kagome blinked a few times before realizing that there was an arm that trapped her with the hand keeping the door - the recent source of her pain - slightly open. "Sesshoumaru, you bastard!"

"I was opening the door for you. We're here."

"If you're trying to be a gentleman about it, you're failing miserably." With a final display of displeasure, Kagome narrowed her eyes before sleepily getting out of the car.

"Go up first. I'll have someone take the clothes to the room."

Seeing that he wasn't getting out of the car, Kagome asked, "Why? Where are you going?"

"Business. I have to meet someone."

"How will you eat dinner?"

"I'll have one along the way. You don't have to wait for me."

Kagome felt a spurt of disappointment. She brushed it off, trying to convince herself that she was being ridiculous. Of course Sesshoumaru had other important businesses to take care of. He wasn't exactly the most available of men, after all.

"Well, good night," she waved, closing the door. Remembering something, she opened the door again. "And thanks for today. I really enjoyed it, despite being tired and famished."

Slightly taken aback by her gratitude, Sesshoumaru simply replied, "Don't wait for me. I'll be late."

Kagome nodded and closed the door again. As she walked alone towards the elevator, she said to herself, "We're sort-of becoming friends, I guess."


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Kagome drank the last drop of milk. Licking her lips, she stared at the box of cereal that rested on top of the table. "Maybe I should learn to cook some new dishes? Come to think of it, I've been cooking the same dishes for the gooses-knows-how-many-years." Should she ask Souta to teach her?

She shook her head. No, definitely not.

"Noodles, ramen, curry...should I try something foreign? Like the glorious Italian we had this afternoon?"

As expected, nobody answered her.

"Now I'm talking to myself..."

A sudden ring resonated from the living room and Kagome jumped. She hurriedly ran to the phone and picked it up. A rough voice greeted from the other line without waiting for a 'hello'.

"Oi, Sesshoumaru! What did you do this time? Father seems furious. Says he's coming home at the next flight from New York. All the while you were the smart brother figure and I have no idea what you did that made him want to hop on the very first plane available. Sesshoumaru? Oi! Say something, you asshole!"


to be continued…


AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I haven't been updating lately but I tried to make this rather long for all those weeks of not posting anything. School started and it's extremely demanding so updates won't happen often. I won't promise when the next chapter will be up next, but I'll try my best to update as soon as I can.

Last week, someone plagiarized this fic. I wouldn't mind the plot – it's not a very special one anyway. I know stories that are somewhat like this exist online and at other places. What would most likely infuriate me are events copied exactly as they are, arguments and comebacks copied and rephrased, then uploaded in a different fandom. The web's not too big for someone else to read a plagiarized fic. Being a victim of plagiarism isn't a very pleasant experience. I've been plagiarized in different ways more than once so I will not tolerate any of that sort happening. I had the author put down the fic. I'd like to avoid other incidences like this in the future.

Simply put, please don't even try it.


CHAPTER NOTES and further DISCLAIMERS

Some things in this chapter were adapted from real life. For instance, there is an Antica Osteria del Ponte restaurant at the Marunouchi building in Tokyo. They do specialize in italian dishes and those mentioned (the description and other implied dishes) were supposed to be Italian. Hehe. The described restaurant does look like the way it was described here as based on a picture I found online (minus the chairs which I fabricated myself since they couldn't be seen in detail) but the version I used for the fic was the one in Italy. I couldn't find a picture of the restaurant itself in Japan.

Maruyama Keita is a fashion designer. He's one of the young-looking (from the picture that I've seen) fashion designers but, if I remember correctly (please tell me if I'm wrong), he specializes in the incorporation of kimono designs in modern clothing. I might be getting confused with stock knowledge so I'm not quite too sure if it was another fashion designer who specializes in the kimono designs. His character, however, was completey fictional and must not be related to the real person himself. The building where they shopped was a fruit of imagination as well. And the dress. xD

(Last edited: April 16, 2007)



Anyway, please review. They keep me happy.