He stood in his apartment, the dim neon lights of the city outside casting faint shadows across his face, painting him in hues of loneliness. The skyline stretched beneath him, alive with movement, colours swirling in chaotic harmony—such a stark contrast to the suffocating stillness inside. His world, once so meticulously controlled, now felt like a cage.

The furniture mirrored his state—cold, sharp, and distant. Black, grey, and silver; lifeless tones filled the space without truly occupying it. A low glass coffee table sat like a ghost, untouched and forgotten. Every surface gleamed with perfection, but the silence that filled the room weighed heavily on his chest, thick and oppressive. It was the kind of quiet that echoed emptiness.

Sesshoumaru leaned against the railing, the night air biting through his shirt, but he welcomed the chill. It was a distraction, though not nearly enough to dull the storm inside him. Her face haunted him. Kagome. It had only been two weeks since he last saw her, but the image of her lingered, a constant presence in his mind. He couldn't shake it. Couldn't shake her.

The vulnerability gnawed at him—unfamiliar, raw. He wasn't used to feeling this exposed. Her eyes, that mixture of confusion and pain... He had seen it so clearly, directed at him. He had hurt her, pushed her away like a fool. And now it consumed him, flooding his thoughts, his chest tightening with regret. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape it. Not even the alcohol helped. The honey-coloured liquid burned as it slid down his throat, but it did nothing to dull the memory. Her eyes... They followed him. Questioning.

How could he feel so intensely for someone he had known for only a few weeks? A girl who was still practically a stranger, yet she had pulled at something deep within him, and even in her absence, that pull hadn't lessened. If anything, it had only grown stronger, dragging emotion after emotion out of him, leaving him raw. It didn't make sense. None of it. And without reason to anchor him, he felt himself unravelling, piece by piece.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the stillness, dragging him out of his spiralling thoughts. His body jolted, and he stumbled slightly as he turned, blinking as the door swung open. Inuyasha strolled in with his usual cocky grin, pausing to take in the pristine, emotionless space.

"Hey, you ok? You look like shit."

Sesshoumaru snorted, a bitter laugh escaping him, finishing off the drink in his hand. He brushed past his brother without a word, his feet carrying him automatically toward the alcohol cabinet. The emptiness inside him only deepened.

"Thanks for the heartfelt welcome, brother." Sesshoumaru's voice was dry, not even bothering to turn as he heard Inuyasha shuffle closer behind him.

"Seriously, the last time you were this bad was when—"

"Don't." Sesshoumaru cut him off, his tone sharp. He didn't need to hear the rest; he knew exactly where Inuyasha was heading, and there was no way he was going to revisit that part of his life. Not now. Not ever.

He had already lived through the darkest depths a person could sink to, and endured months of it, and he hadn't come out the same. Everyone knew that. Including him. His brother had tried many times to help and of course, Sesshoumaru did appreciate it, but some things are better left alone. In this case, there wasn't a choice, he wouldn't speak of it.

"Sorry." Inuyasha's voice held a rare softness, and the single word cut deep into Sesshoumaru's chest. He hated this—this cold, detached side of himself. But how else was he supposed to protect himself? How else could he guard against the pain that always seemed to follow when he let anyone too close?

"Want to tell me what's up?" Inuyasha asked, hesitating for once. Sesshoumaru glanced at his brother, perched awkwardly on the edge of the large sofa a few feet away. With a heavy sigh, he finally sat down, though he kept his distance.

"Kagome. I… upset her," Sesshoumaru muttered, the weight of his admission pressing down on him.

Inuyasha chuckled lightly, and Sesshoumaru's gaze shifted to him, trying to gauge his brother's expression, but it remained unreadable.

"I've known you a long time, Sess," Inuyasha began, his voice unusually thoughtful. "Minus Mom and Dad, I'd say I've got a pretty good understanding of you. I know I act like an idiot sometimes, but I'm not a complete fool." Sesshoumaru scoffed, raising his glass to his lips for another swig as Inuyasha continued. "You've been hurt before… and now that you're hurt again, you're shutting down."

Inuyasha fidgeted, awkwardly shifting before standing and pouring himself a drink. "I'm way too sober for this," he muttered under his breath, a whisper that Sesshoumaru barely caught.

"What are you trying to say, brother? You're usually not shy about sticking your foot in your mouth."

Inuyasha hesitated, glancing at his brother before finally speaking, "Yura hurt you. Badly. You were broken, Sess. Before and after, you weren't the same. I've never seen you like that."

"Don't mention her again," Sesshoumaru warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Why not?" Inuyasha pressed, surprising Sesshoumaru with the seriousness in his tone. "You need to face it. I'm not afraid of saying something stupid, but I am afraid of seeing you lose yourself again."

Sesshoumaru watched as Inuyasha awkwardly tugged at his hair before moving back to the sofa, and sitting beside him once more. "Kagome is nothing like Yura, and you know it. But if you treat her the same way, if you're too afraid to open up… you'll lose her. And this time, it'll be on you."

Sesshoumaru clenched his jaw, the words settling like stones in his chest. His brother was right, and that was what made it hurt even more.

"Leave." Sesshoumaru's voice was quiet but firm. He didn't look at Inuyasha, his eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand.

Inuyasha sighed, standing slowly. "I'll go. But think about what I said." He paused at the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder. "Don't let your fear destroy something good, Sess."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Sesshoumaru alone in the suffocating silence once again.

He leaned back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts tumbled in chaos. How could he let himself care this much? For Kagome—a girl who had appeared in his life so suddenly, yet somehow turned everything upside down. He barely knew her, but the thought of never seeing her again tore at him in a way he couldn't explain. It frightened him. The vulnerability, the uncertainty, the rawness of it all.

But if he didn't want to lose her, he would have to confront the thing he feared the most—himself. He would have to let her see beyond the cold, impenetrable walls he had built.

It terrified him to even consider the possibility. But the alternative—the thought of watching Kagome walk away because he was too afraid to open up—was worse. Much worse.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, the weight of the decision bearing down on him.

Could he do it? Could he risk it all again? For her?

The next day, Sesshoumaru found himself outside Kagome's front door, his heart uncharacteristically uncertain. The sun was just setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. His knuckles hovered just above the wood, hesitating momentarily before finally knocking. The door opened with a soft creak, and there she was—Kagome, dressed in pale blue pyjamas, looking timid as her eyes met his.

"Hi," she greeted, her voice barely above a whisper, yet its warmth wrapped around him like a blanket.

"Hello, Kagome," Sesshoumaru replied, his tone far more awkward than he had intended. He cleared his throat, feeling the tension build between them.

She shifted on her feet. "Um, did you—do you want to come inside?"

As he gave a curt nod Kagome stepped aside, the door creaking wider as she let him into the small but cosy apartment. The scent of vanilla and warm cocoa filled his senses as he crossed the threshold, feeling the soft plushness of the rug beneath his feet. It was an inviting space—completely opposite from the cold, minimalist environment he had at home. Yet, he didn't hate it. In fact, there was something about Kagome's home, with its slightly mismatched furniture and cluttered shelves of memories, that pulled at something deep inside him.

He took a seat on the sofa, the fabric soft, and she sat across from him, just like she had weeks ago when they'd danced around more charged conversations. He found himself longing for that moment—the playfulness, the questions about his unconventional life. How much simpler it had been back then, when they hadn't yet waded into the uncertain waters of "what could be." Now, the air between them felt heavier, like the quiet anticipation of a storm.

Kagome cradled a steaming mug in her lap, the aroma of hot cocoa reaching him. She looked every bit as soft and sweet as the drink she held, a sharp contrast to the intensity that he encompassed. His gaze lingered on her, taking in the way her hair framed her face, how her lips gently pressed together as she mulled over what to say.

There was so much about her that was at odds with him, and for the first time, he wondered if that was part of the appeal—or part of the problem.

"I need to apologise," he said, breaking the silence. His voice was low, but his words were clear. "I'm sorry for what I said and how I acted toward you."

Kagome blinked, her fingers tightening around the mug. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked at him fully now, their eyes locking across the small space between them.

"I don't want to pretend like you didn't hurt my feelings," she said softly, her tone tinged with sadness. "I appreciate your apology, I do. But…" She sighed, glancing down at her mug before continuing, her fingers tracing the rim. "My mind is a mess. I don't know what this is between us. We're not dating, and I don't even know if that's an option for you."

Sesshoumaru remained silent, watching her as she struggled with her words. The warmth of the apartment, the soft glow of the lamps, the weight of her gaze—it all held him captive.

"And if we did pursue this," Kagome added, her voice faltering, "I don't know if I can be… what you want. I don't know if I can be submissive, or to the extent you wish for it to go."

Her gaze drifted toward a cluster of photos on a shelf—snapshots of her life, her friends, her family. Sesshoumaru felt like they were mocking the reality of their conversation, reminding them of how far apart their worlds truly were.

"I can tell there's something between us," she continued, her voice a bit steadier now. "At least, I feel something. But I can't promise you anything, Sesshoumaru. I'm not like the other women you've been with."

"I don't expect you to be like them," he said abruptly, his voice firm. The suddenness of his response made her pause, her eyes flickering back to him in surprise.

Kagome swallowed, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the mug down on the table in front of her. "I'm intrigued," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But enjoying it is another thing entirely."

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he searched for the right words. Words weren't his strong suit—he had always preferred action over conversation—but somehow, this moment felt too important to mishandle.

"I understand that," he said finally, his voice quieter now, but resolute. "And I can't promise you that I can live without that being part of a relationship I'm in. I get it if that's something you can't accept. But what I can promise is that if you decide to try, I will support you in every way I can. We'll go at your pace. You can call the shots."

For a moment, Kagome just stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. She looked as though she were trying to find words that weren't there.

That mouth. He remembered the way it had tasted when he'd kissed her on the counter. The way her body had pressed against his, how soft she had felt, how right it had felt. The thought sent a familiar heat coiling in his stomach.

"That's… a very big commitment," she said finally, her tone wavering with disbelief.

"Kagome, I'm not a flawless man," he admitted, leaning back into the cushions, his hands resting on his knees. "I have a past, and I live a life that most wouldn't agree with. But I'd be a fool to throw this away without even trying."

His words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. It felt alien to him—this vulnerability. But he meant every word, and in that moment, he knew that he would do whatever it took to make this work. It wasn't just about lust or curiosity anymore. He didn't want this to end.

Her lips quirked into a small, tentative smile, her eyes glistening slightly as she whispered, "I'll think about it."

And in that simple statement, Sesshoumaru knew she was being genuine.

The silence that followed felt more comfortable, less charged. Slowly, he stood, and Kagome followed, guiding him toward the door. She opened it just enough for him to step through, but before he left, something in him stirred. A need to offer her some kind of comfort, to ease the tension that still lingered.

Without a word, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. The gesture was small, almost chaste, but the intimacy of it left both of them breathless.

It had been three long, lonely days since that night—three days without seeing Kagome, without hearing her voice. Sesshoumaru felt her absence acutely, as if she haunted every corner of his mind, her presence lingering in the air. The world seemed duller without her around. Even now, at the event he was in, the vibrant energy of the room couldn't distract him.

He stood a little ways away from the back wall, his sharp eyes surveying a painting that hung before him. The party was intimate but grand. Red velvet drapes lined the walls, and the low lighting created a seductive ambiance. Scattered across the room, people lounged on plush couches and ottomans, sipping drinks and engaging in various levels of flirtation. In one corner, a group was gathered around a couple performing a sensual dance, while nearby, a few masked figures teased each other with leather crops and feathers. The air was thick with the heady scent of perfume, wine, and faint hints of leather.

Sesshoumaru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his mind far from the revelry around him. Inuyasha stood beside him, nursing a glass of whiskey. For once, he was quiet—but, of course, that didn't last.

"You fuck up, and I'm dealing with the consequences? In what world is that fair?" Inuyasha grumbled, his frustrated scowl etched deeply into his face. He leaned casually against the bar nearby, but the tension in his voice betrayed his annoyance.

"The real world isn't a fair one, brother," Sesshoumaru replied coolly, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"Yeah, yeah. It's a tough world, whatever," Inuyasha muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just because you decided to be a dick doesn't mean I shouldn't get laid."

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, his expression as calm and composed as ever. "Have you considered that your lack of intimacy might have something to do with you?"

"Oh, come on, no way. Sango can't get enough of this," Inuyasha shot back, gesturing dramatically to himself.

"I've heard," Sesshoumaru deadpanned, his disdain barely masked beneath his impassive tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Inuyasha smirked, clearly proud of himself. "Gotta give the woman what she wants."

"Do you now, little slut?" Sesshoumaru's words were sharp, laced with mockery.

"Fuck off, man. Not cool. I don't kink shame you," Inuyasha snapped, shooting him a glare.

"Merely banter between brothers."

"Sure feels like a dig to me." Inuyasha crossed his arms. "No need to piss on me just because you're grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy."

"Well, you might be after you turn around," Inuyasha said, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

Sesshoumaru frowned, the annoyance rolling off him in waves, but he turned anyway.

And then he saw her.

She stood near the entrance, draped in a deep red, silk dress that hugged her curves like liquid fire. Her lips were painted the same crimson hue, and her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. The dim lighting shimmered against her skin, and her eyes—those eyes that had haunted him for days—met him across the room, a playful yet dangerous gleam dancing in them.

She didn't need to say a word. Sesshoumaru knew exactly what that look meant. She was ready to make him pay for it.

Inuyasha chuckled beside him, clearly enjoying his brother's stunned silence. "Better get your hard hat on," he snickered. "Looks like you've got a lot of work to do."

As if on cue, Kagome's lips curved into a slow, wicked smirk, her gaze never wavering from Sesshoumaru's. The challenge was clear: she was in control now, and he was going to have to prove himself.

Sesshoumaru's pulse quickened, but outwardly, his expression remained stoic, though he couldn't ignore the anticipation tightening in his chest. Whatever happened next, it was going to be anything but easy.

And, for the first time in months, he welcomed the challenge.