Sequel to Chapter 22 (SessKag, Physical Therapist, Periwinkle)
Kagome adjusted the hem of her skirt, wondering for the fifth time if she'd worn the right outfit. It was her first date with Sesshoumaru, and she wanted everything to be perfect—as perfect as it could be, anyway.
He'd long since healed from the accident that had landed him in her rehabilitation clinic, and he'd finally found a break in his schedule that allowed him to fulfill his promise of taking her out after no longer being her client.
Kagome had been salivating all day.
But now that she was standing outside the restaurant fifteen minutes after their arranged meeting time, she was starting to doubt every word he'd uttered. Her mother had even used her sewing skills to take in an old dress for the occasion, the soft periwinkle hugging her curves.
Kagome had told her about the date, unable to keep her excitement to herself when she'd visited the shrine the month prior, and Mama had insisted on providing her with an outfit. Kagome had tried to wave her off, knowing that shrine duties had taken her away from the hobby turned obsession before Papa had died.
The Higurashi matriarch had had a promising career ahead of her when Kagome was a child, creating a slew of fairy tale dresses for her and the neighbouring girls when she'd first entered school. But costumes didn't pay as much as the shrine, and after Papa's accident, Mama had been forced to put the sewing machine away.
As soon as Kagome had put the dress on, it was like she was five years old all over again, twirling around in front of the mirror as Mama preened behind her. The style had matured—there were fewer sequins and ruffles now—but Kagome felt like a princess nonetheless.
If only her prince would show up to complete the look.
She checked her watch again, worrying her lip before entering the restaurant. Maybe she'd been the one to show up late, and he was already inside. She approached the hostess stand, quickly giving the woman both her and Sesshoumaru's name, her brow pinching as she looked over the list.
"I don't see a reservation under either of those names," the woman said, clicking her pen to emphasize the point. "And we're full tonight, so if you're looking for a table, you're out of luck." Kagome blanched, hands twisting as she turned to slink back outside, almost running into the couple behind her.
Embarrassment morphed into horror as she recognized the person she'd nearly bowled over. Yura Biyoushi had been a thorn in her side ever since she'd joined the clinic, constantly berating Kagome about her attire, even though they had a dress code. Her friends had bared the brunt of her complaints, stating that Yura was probably jealous that Kagome was given the celebrity clients.
The demoness never believed her when she told her the roster was never up to her, most of them being return clients after being treated by her initially. Yura could never accept that Kagome was better at her job, eventually running off with the first high roller she'd sunk her claws into.
From the rumours circulating after her departure, this was not the same guy she was currently latched onto.
Kagome squared her shoulders, biting back the apology she'd just about to issue at the sneer on Yura's face. "I thought this was the best place in town," she lamented, her date instantly stiffening.
"It is, my dear. I assure you the bill will not be cheap."
"Then why do they allow trash in here?" she asked, pressing herself against the man's arm as she motioned to Kagome.
"Do you have a reservation?" the hostess asked, reeking of anxiety as she attempted to defuse the situation. Yura looked at her date expectantly, dragging him around Kagome with a sniff.
"Of course we do," she said, nudging the man. "Don't you know who we are?" The host was wise enough not to answer, quickly finding the man's name and telling them their table would be ready in a few minutes.
Kagome sucked in a breath, intent on leaving it at that, but Yura caught the edge of her dress, rolling the fabric between her fingers. "It's no wonder you got stood up wearing something so cheap," she said, a smirk tilting up the edge of her dark lips. "Who would want to be seen in public with you?"
Her hand itched with the urge to slap her smug look right off her face, but Kagome closed her eyes, sucking in a calming breath instead. "At least I know my date showed up by choice and not blackmail."
Yura's smile didn't falter, but she clicked her tongue. "What date? Seems like you got ahead of yourself. If you ever had one to begin with. One of your clients probably thought you were a prostitute and is waiting for you in the back alley." The hostess gave her a panicked look, turning on her heel and walking away, not wanting to be a witness.
Fine, Kagome thought, hoping Mama would forgive her for mussing up her dress. It had been a long day, and she'd been looking forward to relaxing with Sesshoumaru, but if he wasn't going to show, she'd take her ire out on someone who deserved it.
Yura noticed the change in her stance, her stiletto sliding against the floor as she stepped back. Kagome would've smirked at the fear leeching into her aura if someone hadn't grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn around before a kiss was laid across her knuckles.
"I apologize for being late."
Kagome nearly sagged with relief. "Sesshoumaru." She half expected him to glance behind her, especially with Yura's startled gasp, but he only had eyes for her, intertwining their fingers.
"Have you been waiting long?"
She shook her head. "I thought you might be busy. There's no reservation—"
Sesshoumaru scoffed. "I never need one here." He stepped up to the hostess stand at the exact moment the maître d' did, his exasperated expression melting into delighted recognition.
"Mr. Taisho! How lovely to see you again."
"Is my usual table available?"
The maitre d' looked between him and Kagome, then bowed. "I am so sorry for the delay, miss. The hostess is new and was unaware of the situation." Sesshoumaru waved him off as he placed Kagome's hand in the crook of his arm, following the man into the restaurant.
She glanced over her shoulder and had to stifle her laughter at the expression on Yura's face.
The woman immediately started berating her partner. "You said you had connections! Why doesn't he need a reservation?" Kagome shook her head, still grinning as Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow.
"An old friend of yours?" he asked.
She made a face, unable to hold back her loathing. "Just an old colleague that always thought she was better than the rest of us. Be thankful she didn't try to sink her claws into you."
"It would be a pointless endeavour," he scoffed. "You are the only reason I am here tonight."
She blushed, but her smile remained intact. "Are you always so smooth with your pickup lines?"
"I have no need to be 'smooth'," he argued. "You already agreed to go out with me." Kagome laughed outright, a grin touching Sesshoumaru's lips as he pulled out her chair. She went to sit down, but he didn't move, and she looked up in question, barely having enough time to suck in a breath before his mouth covered hers.
She hummed softly, going up on tiptoe as her hands slid to the lapels of his jacket. He kept it light, Kagome almost moaning in protest when he pulled back.
"I do not usually eat dessert before dinner, but I could not help myself," he confessed. "You look lovely tonight."
She wanted to pull him down again, but the maître d' chuckled, still waiting expectantly beside their table, and she bit her lip. "Another taste later, then?" His eyes darkened with heated promise, and he nodded, finally allowing her to take her seat.
It wasn't until they were halfway through their meal that she noticed his tie matched her dress—in both shade and fabric.
