Kagome sighed as she reread Kagura's letter. It was the easiest way to stay in touch, though Kagura had free reign now that she was truly mated to Sesshoumaru's mother.

But therein lay the issue. Inukimi had been less than tactful about her opinion of her son's mated, or rather, unmated status, and now that Yakeru had been dealt with, nothing was standing in the way—except for the fact that Sesshoumaru didn't feel the same way about her.

He felt something; he'd made that abundantly clear when he hadn't interfered with her confrontation with the phoenix, but every action pointed to friendship, nothing more.

Kagome snorted as she leaned back in her chair. The fact that she could even call him a friend was a feat in itself. She wanted it to be more, with every fibre of her being, but she was there to run the school, not force his hand into a relationship because her mother happened to favour her.

Groaning, she ran a hand down her face. Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe there was a possibility that he could feel the same—eventually.

Maybe she just needed to encourage him a little.

That thought brightened her mood as she left Kagura's letter on her desk. She needed to repay him for helping her contain her powers, anyway. If she pushed the boundaries a little, who was going to complain?

Probably Jaken, but he didn't count.

The other generals had been more than welcoming when she'd joined their meetings, a new sense of respect following their gazes after outing Yakeru as a traitor. They'd even asked her to help train the new recruits. It had been more to put the younglings in their place than prepare them for opponents gifted in holy power, but she wasn't about to reveal their secret.

Keeping her breath steady so she didn't start skipping down the hall, Kagome made her way to his study, knocking softly before entering. He was hunched over his desk, a pile of missives on either side and a scowl on his face.

Perfect.

"You're working too hard," she said, not even bothering to address what he was actually working on.

"It comes with the territory," he replied, folding a piece of parchment before tapping a section of the map in front of him.

"You could always just leave them to their own devices," she said, sidling up behind him.

Sesshoumaru snorted. "We have seen firsthand how well that works out."

"True, but it would force them to fend for themselves for a little while." She leaned over his shoulder, pointing to another section of the map. "They need the resources first."

A pale eyebrow raised. "How did you come to that conclusion? They are protected by a mountainside."

She shook her head. "Protected from the rains, but they'll be the first to get snow once winter hits. Plus, they'll be more willing to provide lumber to these three villages if we give them enough time during the autumn."

Amber eyes blinked as she walked her fingers along the river, then thumbed through the pile of missives on his right. "I hope you will never cease in being useful, Kagome. People are likely to suffer if you do."

She chuckled, then gathered her courage and pressed her fingers into the back of his neck. More than anything, she wanted to be useful to him; if others benefitted, so be it. He relaxed into her touch as she found a particularly tight knot, spreading it out along the expanse of his shoulder.

He tried to ignore it at first but soon settled back into his chair, eyes fluttering shut. She worked in silence, rotating her thumbs at the base of his neck. Being this close allowed her free range of his person, and his scent, and she inhaled deeply as she draped the expanse of his hair over one shoulder.

"You work too hard," she repeated, continuing her ministrations down his spine and between his shoulder blades. Her movements were limited because of his clothes, but she'd take what she could get—especially since he was being so accommodating.

"Someone has to," he murmured.

"There are others who are more than willing to help—the generals for one. And—" The door shot open with a bang, and if they weren't in the middle of the shiro, she'd have fried Jaken on the spot.

Sesshoumaru tensed at the intrusion, and she sighed, moving away from him as the vassal began to squawk about how inappropriate she was being.

"I do not recall requesting your presence," Sesshoumaru said, returning to his missives as if nothing had happened. "You are meant to be tending to the dragons."

Jaken straightened, one hand gripping his staff. "I have done so, my lord! But I was informed you were being disturbed and came to see that the perpetrator was reprimanded."

Kagome caught Sesshoumaru's eye and then rolled her own. "You should check the source of such vulgar rumours before barging in on your lord," she mocked as she headed toward the door. "Seems to me like you're the one disturbing him right now." She chuckled to herself as Jaken was left a sputtering mess, pausing at the door. "Let's have tea later."

She felt Sesshoumaru's eyes on her even though he didn't speak, smiling over her shoulder as Jaken continued on his tirade of never having disturbed Sesshoumaru in his life.


"This isn't part of your usual chores."

Kagome shrugged. "Not really, but I figured since I was making something for myself, I'd get something for him too."

The cook frowned but couldn't step away from the large pot he was currently stirring. "His lordship is very particular about—"

She grabbed a lemon, swiftly peeling it before grinding it together with a fistful of jasmine. "I'm well aware of his tastes." Why was everyone so cautious around him? Sure, he was capable of separating your head from your body with merely a flick of his wrist but knowing his preferred blend of tea wasn't unheard of.

She placed the mixture into a teapot, then pulled the now boiling water off the stove, swirling in some honey before replacing the lid. As she puttered around the kitchen, grabbing various fruits, she found the cook watching her intently. "What are your intentions with these?" he asked.

Kagome frowned, hand hovering over a peach. "Do I need any? We're going to have tea, so why not bring him something he enjoys?"

The cook clicked his tongue, eyeing the combination of produce in her hands. "Most would not think to bring him anything."

"Well, that's just dumb," she scoffed. "He eats just like everyone else."

The cook gave her one last look, then went back to the pot. "Not in front of anyone else, miko-sama." Kagome frowned but finished setting up the tray. What was the big deal? She'd spent countless hours in his company before. This was no different.

Making sure not to leave a mess behind, lest she be banned from doing so again, she gathered the tray and made her way to the garden. The wisteria tree had grown another foot since they'd returned, branches reached out for her each time she came to visit.

There still wasn't a face like Bokuseno, but Sesshoumaru assured her it would happen eventually. She could feel something, an underlying presence of some kind, but perhaps it was still too early for her power to force it out of hiding.

"Hello," she greeted the tree, setting the tray down at its roots. "It's wonderful to see you so chipper today." Wind ruffled the leaves, branches brushing her shoulders, and Kagome reached up, power skirting along her fingers and up its bark.

"Do you normally speak to those without a voice?"

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled. "Normally, they talk back."

Sesshoumaru snorted. "No wonder you were incapable of keeping your mouth shut during the quest for the shards."

Kagome whirled around, hands on her hips. "Not everyone is allergic to conversation like you," she said.

"I am glad. My ears would have fallen off otherwise." She thought about zapping him, but the twitch at the corner of her mouth told her how serious he was being.

"Just be thankful that I like you, or you'd have to worry about keeping your pelt in one piece." He raised an eyebrow, eyes boring into hers, and she cleared her throat before motioning to the tray. "I brought you tea," she said, escaping his intense stare to begin pouring.

"Hnn."

She pursed her lips, knowing he was doing it just to get a rise out of her. She could've taken the bait, but this area of the garden wasn't used to loud noises or sudden movements. And it certainly wasn't equipped to deal with offensive powers.

The wisteria was there to absorb, not defend, and though most of the foliage was human-based and therefore protected, there was no telling what the true power of the jewel would do.

This was her sanctuary, and she wasn't about to endanger it in any way—no matter how smug his expression was.

"I'll throw tea on you," she warned, folding her legs under her. "It'll go great with the white silk you're wearing."

"You would have to catch me first." Golden eyes gleamed, and she was thoroughly tempted to take him up on it, but the whole point of inviting him out here was to rest.

"Maybe later," she hedged, motioning to his cup. She could feel his disappointment, an odd sensation running up her arms, but it quickly disappeared as she doled out the fruit she'd prepared. She offered up the small plate, but instead of taking his place on the other side of the tray, he sat down beside her, barely a hairbreadth between them.

She flushed slightly, spine straightening against the base of wisteria. He plucked a few selections off the plate, and she replaced it with a cup, eyebrows raising as honeyed citrus wafted past his nose.

"The cook does not usually take the time to extract so much flavour. Especially so late in the afternoon."

She shrugged. "He was busy, so I prepared it myself," she replied, conveniently leaving out the part where she'd requested to do so in the first place.

His gaze may have softened, or it might've been a trick of the light, but he drank it all the same. Silence descended, but it was calm and appreciated, lavender branches painting the ground with petals.

Something brushed her shoulder, but she wasn't given the chance to move, Sesshoumaru's head tilting as sleep claimed him. Biting back a sigh, she adjusted herself to be more accommodating, letting the overworked lord recharge like he'd always done with her.

She hoped it would always be like this.