A/N: hello everyone:) I know a lot of you have been anxiously waiting for updates on many of my other WIPs. To my loyal followers, thank you so much for staying by me. Especially those who helped me through that horrible turmoil that happened almost a year and a half ago in regards to my book.

I have this little drabble that I concocted for Sesskag Week 2017 and I thought it might be nice to post it:)

Here's to hoping I'll start updating a bit more regularly now that my life is a little more controlled.

Takk fyrir, lovelies.

I do not own the rights to Inuyasha or Goblin: the Lonely and Great God


~Tanabata~

Dandelion Wishes


Bright beautiful streamers danced, held in place to awnings over storefronts by colorful decorations. In no way was Tanabata a dull celebration. Good food, cheer, and fantastic fireworks always adorned the day's activities, and as the centuries had moved on, Sesshomaru had found himself particular to such arrangements of difference to his norm. He had even come to enjoy and join them. Afterall, a cursed deity such as himself—a goblin (funny how one could go from being the most feared daiyokai of the Edo period to an all-powerful, immortal, and oh [most importantly] cursed) to be exact—had needed some form of entertainment.

But now, as he walked among the bamboo that lined the sidewalk and street a block from his house and noticed as the fluttering papers danced in the wind, he found himself almost abhorred at the holiday.

Perhaps it was the Shikon Miko's fault.

Yes.

It was her fault.

That horrible horrible priestess just had to go and waltz into his life, filling it with things he never knew a heart as frozen as his would allow. She just had to dance her fingers along the strings of his emotions, playing his soul like a violin that had been abandoned for years, begging for attention. She just had to see the sword Bakusaiga buried deep within his just and had to be the one to pull it out, caress his wound, and help him end his curse. Even his brother, his now reincarnated brother—stripped of his status as a grim reaper and returned to the realm of men—had tried to save her. Tried to prevent the Shikon Miko's leave from his life—the absence almost as abrupt as its entry.

She just had to be the one he chose to give up mortality for just so he could spend the days in the sun with her—holding the soft, feathery skin of her hand; basking in the warm rays of her smile; spinning in circles as they twirled in their own little world, lost to everything outside of it.

Stopping at the block corner where the green walk light buzzed, Sesshomaru gripped his chest, hand over his heart. He bit back a choke. The demon lord who had reined without mercy or emotion would not be so weak as to still be mourning the death of a woman fifty-six years prior to the now. He would not have been mourning period. Yet still, thousands of years could change a person, make them tender. Especially when they had been exposed to the touch of a woman.

Not just any woman, he thought, his gold eyes softening. My woman. My miko…my wi— He ran a shaky hand through the short-cropped hair that just barely stopped above his elfin ears, the tips curling, before his hand slid down the soft bristly hair at the nape of his neck to his shoulders. She used to do that, to calm his thoughts to give him the ability to think.

I'm so sorry, Sesshomaru, but your hair short like this makes you look like an old man!

"Hn, that is very insulting considering I've lived far longer than you."

It's just so funny, I'm so sorry!

He stopped himself there. Sesshomaru had promised himself that he would not have forgotten her. She had promised to come back to him. She promised. But tonight, on the night when Orihime would be able to meet her beloved spouse…

And he would not.

It seemed unfair to dwell on something he so very very much wished for.

With a sigh, he decided it best if he leave for the night. Nothing good would come of him staying in Japan, where painful reminder of a moonlit rendezvous of two love-forbidden lovers was celebrated.

Finding the closest door, a small grocery stop, he opened it and disappeared inside with small wisps of lavender smoke following—leaving the cashier very confused as to why the door opened on its own.

Quebec stayed in its silence. Sure, a few tour groups traveled here and there, and yes, practically everywhere. But for him it was silent. No one bothered him, no one asked him for directions, no one even to bother asking him if he was Korean, Chinese, or some sort of other Asian (and yes, he had gotten that question in both English and French). He sat among the gravestones of his aliases and those of his stewards, and yes even the Shikon Miko. In only their solemn, cold company did he remain on the plush grass among the swaying wildflowers and dandelions. Unlike Japan's loud festivities, Sesshomaru sat in relative piece, on his viewpoint that overlooked the harbor and the grand hotel that he owned.

She had been so excited when she discovered that he had owned that hotel…

Waving his hand back and forth to dispel his troublesome thoughts, the Goblin laid back on the grass, resting his head on the palms of his hands and looked up at the now transitioning sky.

You should be proud of yourself. You've grown into a fine Goblin, old man. Oh! And don't worry, five hundred years from now you'll have a beautiful bride for yourself.

"Woman, this Sesshomaru will not. Do not exaggerate."

About which part? Me being beautiful or me being your bride?

"…You are beautiful."

Hmmm. You hesitated, that means you were reluctant to admit that I'm pretty. Given that it's you, lord Sesshomaru, that means that one's the truth. Which means you don't want me as your bride.

Sesshomaru shut his eyes, the image of the harbor and the sky meeting branded on the back of his eyelids. He could almost imagine the bridge and its arching floor. If he walked upon it, would he meet the brown eyes he wished he could see—at least for a moment.

"I would marry you again in a heartbeat if could, Kagome."

A sneeze erupted from his throat in a rather unceremonious manner after that. Dandelion fluff pranced around his nose and clung to his hair as if he were their only anchor to the world. He swatted them away, his brow furrowing in annoyance as his gold eyes crossed to make sure he had rid himself of the last bits. Sure that he had, he closed his eyes and relaxed again…only to be disrupted by a wad of clumped dandelion puff landing on his nose. From his chest, a growl almost escaped until he heard someone call out.

"Hey, old man!" a voice chirped way too pleasantly. "I'm running out of weeds here and I am trying to get your attention."

It wasn't like how he imagined it. Sesshomaru had imagined something heartfelt and teary. Something romantic, a thing that he had to accumulate to when trying to figure out a young girl's heart. But instead he sat up, the grass having left a damp spot along the jacket of his suit, and the wetted material wrinkled as he turned around to look at the owner of the voice.

There she stood, holding a stem without any leaves in her hand, outstretched and pointed towards him. Her hair was different, shorter, and her eyes were blue now instead of the brown he had accustomed himself to remembering. But he smiled as he saw her in a uniform, one that reminded him quite a bit of her graduation outfit from high school. All her mannerisms were still there. The hopeful smile yet the worried glance. The way she stood proudly, the way she had when she had carried the jewel. Every bit of her screamed that she was indeed the Shikon Miko.

"Do you know who I am?" she whispered.

To any other man, the words would have fleeted from his capabilities. But he caught them with ease, and he stood. The crescent moon on his forehead shone in the dying light of dusk, and he smiled. He hadn't thought wishes on Tanabata could come true. In all honesty, he had stopped believing in anything hopeful after he realized the odds had been turned against his favor from the beginning.

But she stood there, real and alive again.

"You are, woman, the first and the last Bride of the Daiyokai Goblin." Sesshomaru neatly settled one hand in the pocket of his jacket while the other one extended and the smile on his face died down to something tender.