The day held a quiet hum, almost melancholic, as the wind rustled through the trees outside. Sesshoumaru, appearing like a silver shadow against the evening's golden hue, returned. Every step was weighed down by a mix of weariness and defeat, the result of days spent fruitlessly searching for Inuyasha.
The threshold of his home carried a peculiar scent that by now was unmistakably familiar to him. The gentle fragrance, reminiscent of sun-kissed meadows and blooming wildflowers, began to envelop him, drawing his focus.
Before his mind could fully register and revel in the comforting familiarity of that aroma, a sudden flurry raced at his direction. Like a swift gust of wind, a meld of blue and brown rushed into his arms, colliding with the expanse of his strong chest. It was Kagome. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, bore into his, a silent plea evident in their depths. A pinkish hue on her cheeks, whether from her sprint or her emotions, he couldn't tell. Her lips moved, and the words, "Don't leave me like that again," were uttered in a voice so soft, it seemed to tremble with the weight of worry.
Taking in her distress, Sesshoumaru's typically impassive demeanor was betrayed by raw display of emotions on his face. His golden eyes held a feral fire in them. It wasn't directed at Kagome, but rather kindled by thoughts of his wayward younger brother. That Inuyasha could be so careless, so repeatedly thoughtless. The unintentional anguish he had imposed upon Kagome, now standing defenseless before him, was a raw wound, and it incited a rare fury within the stoic demon lord.
Sesshoumaru fought to relax his posture, as to not deter Kagome further. His arms hesitated for just a moment before encircling her in their safety. As they came together, he could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his chest, matching his own accelerated rhythm.
'Is this what it feels like to come home?' he wondered. His life had always been marked by respect, even reverence, from others, but her vulnerable need was entirely different. It shook him to his core.
They remained wrapped in each other for indecently long. Even as logic and reason screamed at them, reminding them of the consequences of their closeness, they were momentarily deaf to those calls.
Suddenly, Kagome's grip on Sesshoumaru began to wane. Gently, almost hesitantly, she eased out of their embrace, her fingers brushing against the intricate patterns on his haori. She took a step back, allowing a careful distance between them. Her eyes flitted downward, avoiding his piercing gaze, and she seemed to focus on her feet for a brief second.
Clearing her throat with a nervous cough, she looked back up at him. "I'm just... glad to see you're safe from those rat demons," she said, her voice holding a hint of embarrassment.
Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity, taking note of her evasive behavior. Kagome, sensing his unasked questions, hastened to divert his attention.
"Well, anyway," she started with a slightly forced cheerfulness, "I had this... idea of making some wagashi. I could use some help... or supervision. They say too many chefs spoil the broth, but this isn't broth, right?" Her attempt at levity was clear, trying to bridge the space that had suddenly appeared between them.
Sesshoumaru regarded her for a few seconds, then a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Indeed, it isn't broth. Lead the way, miko."
Inside the kitchen, bowls, utensils, and ingredients were laid out. Kagome handed him a small apron she had commissioned the servants to sew some while ago. Sesshoumaru eyed the cloth skeptically.
"Protection," she teased, wearing one herself.
The young woman smirked as she draped the apron over Sesshoumaru, tying it neatly at his back. "It suits you," she commented with a glint in her eyes.
He looked down at the piece of fabric, his expression unconvinced. "Perhaps if one was hard of seeing," he retorted dryly.
She chuckled, guiding him to the table. "Here," she began, showing him a mixture of mochiko and water, "we need to knead this into a smooth dough."
Sesshoumaru took a deep breath, examining the concoction with a slightly furrowed brow. "And you believe I possess knowledge on this... kneading process?"
She gave him an amused look, biting back a smile. "It's simple. Think of it as... molding clay. Or shaping the destinies of lesser demons." She offered.
Sesshoumaru allowed a ghost of a smirk. "A task of such gravity," he mused, attempting to imitate the motion Kagome showed him. But the dough stuck to his claws, causing a mild look of annoyance to flash across his face.
Kagome tried to suppress her laughter. "Looks like the mighty Sesshoumaru is bested by mere dough."
He shot her a playful glare. "It is a devious adversary."
As they worked, Kagome took the opportunity to dust his nose with some rice flour. She giggled, pointing at his now white-tipped nose. "Looks like someone's getting into the spirit of things."
Sesshoumaru, momentarily caught off guard, huffed. "Such treachery in my house."
She laughed heartily, the joyous sound echoing through the room. "Alright, alright, truce?" She extended a flour-covered hand towards him.
He looked at it, then back to her. "Very well. Truce." But just as she was about to relax, he smeared some red bean paste on her cheek. "For the nose," he intoned solemnly, though the mischief in his eyes gave warmth to the words.
Kagome gasped in mock outrage. "Sesshoumaru! That's for the wagashi, not for warfare!"
He simply shrugged, a smug expression on his face.
Unbeknownst to them, Itachi had approached the kitchen to prepare for dinner. However, upon seeing the scene unfold, she halted. A soft smile crept onto her face, and with a silent chuckle, she gently closed the kitchen door, allowing the two their cherished moments.
Outside, the sky had turned a deep shade of indigo, with a myriad of stars sparkling like diamonds against the inky expanse. Sesshoumaru and Kagome sat on a raised wooden platform, a low table between them, steaming cups of tea accompanying the plate of wagashis they'd made.
Kagome sipped her tea, her gaze fixed on a particularly bright constellation. "That story you told me about the stars earlier, was it a common demon tale or one of the lesser-known myths?"
Sesshoumaru, pausing to pick up a wagashi with a graceful hand, replied, "It is known among demons, but not frequently spoken of in the presence of humans. The celestial tales I shared have been passed down through the ages in my lineage."
She chuckled, "You have a unique way of making the stars even more complicated."
He shot her a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement playing in his eyes. "And humans? Naming stars after myths and lost lovers. Isn't that an exercise in futility?"
She pouted, "It's romantic. And besides, it's our way of making the vast universe a little more personal, a little more ours."
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, lost in the beauty of the night sky and the warmth of each other's company. Kagome then picked up a wagashi, playfully waving it in front of him. "Admit it. It's not half-bad for a first attempt, right?"
He smirked, "For a miko and a demon lord with no culinary expertise between them, it is... passable."
She nudged him gently with her shoulder. "You always know just what to say to warm a girl's heart."
As the night wore on, Kagome's responses began to slow. Her eyes grew heavy-lidded, and her head nodded occasionally, though she fought against the pull of sleep. Sesshoumaru noticed and softly advised: "You should sleep, Kagome."
She blinked owlishly, trying to focus on him. "I'm not tired," she protested weakly, even as her eyelids told otherwise. "Just... enjoying the... stars."
But her words trailed off and were soon replaced by soft, even breaths. Eventually, her head tilted and she found herself unconsciously leaning against Sesshoumaru's shoulder. He looked down at her sleeping form, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and a soft sigh escaped his lips.
He could have woken her up, but instead, he carefully slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her up effortlessly. Her head nestled against his chest as he carried her, with the silent grace that marked all his movements, towards her room.
The door slid open quietly, the soft glow of candles from the hallway illuminated her peaceful face. He laid her down on the futon, ensuring she was comfortable before leaving.
He was poised to exit when Kagome's fingers latched onto his haori, preventing him from going. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "Stay," she whispered, her voice strained.
Sesshoumaru froze. For a fleeting instant, he believed she was lost in a dream, calling out to Inuyasha. He was about to extract himself from her grasp when she spoke again, and there was no mistaking the clarity in her voice, "Sesshoumaru... don't go."
Drawn in by her vulnerability and the innocence in her plea, he relented. Settling beside her on the futon, he carefully wrapped her in his embrace, creating a cocoon of comfort and safety. The weight of her head rested against his chest, her breaths slow and even.
As time passed, Sesshoumaru felt a subtle tremor run through her. The soft shaking intensified, and he realized that Kagome was crying. The dam she had so meticulously built around her heart to contain her pain had finally broken, letting the torrent of emotions flow. Tears for the life she had lost, the child she would never hold, and the husband whose path had strayed.
Sesshoumaru's embrace tightened, offering her a refuge to express her anguish. He did not speak, merely let her find solace in his presence. As the night deepened and the hours ticked away, Kagome's sobs gradually faded, replaced by the rhythmic breathing of a deep, healing sleep. He continued to cradle her, ensuring her dreams were free from sorrows.
A/N: Did you pick up on the parallel where both brothers are literally and figuratively being led to their destinies by different women? Eh, eeeh?