She called in sick at work, discussing with her supervisor that she had relapsed and would be absent for some time. The older woman knew of her recurring mental struggles in the past and promised to keep in touch over the next month. Kagome called her mother, told her the same thing and asked her to come pick her up if she didn't come out of hiding in three weeks time. She heard the disapproval in her mothers voice, but knew she would do as asked.

Kagome passed her days in isolation, only going out to procure food and drinks, lots of drinks. She kept the lighting and tv off, lest Sesshoumaru see her moving about. She sat about her apartment, playing snake on her phone, reading some books and crying herself to sleep, clutching her sake bottle.

After twelve days, she decided she could risk turning on the tv. She wanted to know when the storm that had been raging outside would lie down, because it had prevented her from going down to the Family Mart and replenishing her alcohol stash. Also, she needed some fruit.

She sat down on her sofa and stared at the overly happy weather girl dressed in a yellow parka. She was telling her that the storm would not let up for another day or three, and Kagome fell back into the cushions, cursing her luck.

After a moment of flipping through the channels, she got up to rummage through her cupboards to see if anything edible was left. From the corner of her eye, she saw a tall figure on her balcony. She fell over her coffee table as she tried to back away from the door, screaming her throat raw in fright. A flash of lightning brought color and definition to the shape. Silver hair was plastered to a pale face by the rain, a dress shirt clinging to a broad chest. Sesshoumaru stood silently watching her, his face schooled in his mask of old.

Kagome angrily got to her feet, wincing as she put weight on the leg that had taken the brunt of her fall. She stomped over to her balcony door to make sure it was locked. As her hand shot out to draw the curtain in front of the door closed, she looked up with a glare. He had the audacity to glare back, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

'Sake, miko?' he all but growled on the other side of the glass.

She glanced back at her living room and actually saw it for the first time in weeks. Various bottles and cans of sake littered the floor, with half eaten plates of food and the odd banana peel scattered between them. Clothing interspersed with tissues, bedding a mess, trash can overflowing and dishes on every flat surface. Her frustration at him evaporated at her shame for the squalor she had once again let into her life. She turned back to him, tears in her eyes, and unlocked the door before sullenly sinking down on her sofa. With her head on her knees, she heard the door slide open and he stepped inside, dripping slightly.

'So you're allowed to initiate contact now?' she bit at him with anger she didn't really feel.

'I won't dignify that question with an answer,' he said, taking off his shoes and carrying them into the hallway, trailing water as he went.

Her gaze followed him across the apartment, startled when he ducked into her bathroom. Indignation reigned as she jumped up and stormed over. Her demand to know what he was doing died on her tongue as she came around the corner and was met with his bare back. Unperturbed by her outburst, Sesshoumaru calmly hung up his shirt to dry and turned back to her.

Blushing down to her toes, Kagome threw her face into her hands and muttered something about finding him something to wear before fleeing to her closet. When she came back with the most oversized shirt she owned, she found he had unearthed a roll of garbage bags and was picking through the debris of her grief.

'Wha- what are you doing?!' she demanded, mortified as he sorted plastic from combustibles.

'Catching you,' he answered smoothly without looking at her.

Kagome sank to her knees and cried, long and hard. Sesshoumaru calmly let her cry as he steadily made headway with cleaning. After some time, he set down a box of tissues next to her. Kagome snorted through her tears. It was a sight too ridiculous for words. Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands, last DaiYoukai in Japan and possibly the world, half naked and knee deep in the detritus of her depression. He shot her a bland look, conveying that if she was done crying, she might as well help him clean up. After a last sniffle, she got up and threw him the gray shirt she had unearthed. He caught it and pulled it over his head, sending her into a new fit of giggles. What had been a baggy shirt on her, was just about skin tight on him. He shot her another pointed look. She threw up her hands in surrender and started collecting dirty dishes and bringing them over to the kitchen.

They worked silently, with Kagome occasionally giggling or sniffling, but plowing through nonetheless. Within two hours, the hallway had filled up with trash bags, combustibles neatly separated, clothes had been put into the washer, dishes were drying on the rack and the floor had seen a thorough mopping. As Kagome prepared a cup of tea and Sesshoumaru sat down on her sofa, she realized this was actually the first time he had come to her home. She felt utterly ashamed that he had seen it in the state it was in, but grateful that he'd come.

'Thank you,' she said as she served him his cup.

'You're welcome, miko,' he said as she sat down beside him.

'It's Kagome,' she said with a watery smile.