Author's Note: I added some clarification to the type of jacket Kagome was wearing; it's called a hanten. Also, I think you'll see pretty quickly where the inspiration for this chapter's drama comes from, and I will not apologize about it :)

Chapter 11

The second morning of her unexpected reprieve dawned softly. Kagome blinked awake to the muted light of winter creeping in through the shoji screens, the scent of tea and fresh rice wafting through the room as a servant quietly set a tray on the low table. She yawned, feeling more rested than she had in weeks. Her first day of rest had felt like a luxury she wasn't sure she deserved, but today, as she stretched and slowly rose from the futon, she decided she was going to fully embrace it.

Her breakfast arrived late, a sign that Sesshomaru had given strict instructions to let her sleep in. Kagome smiled softly at the thought. It wasn't often that she had had time just for herself over the last few years, but she was determined to enjoy it now—especially with the first snow beginning to fall outside. She slipped into a pair of jeans and a soft, dark turtleneck, wrapping herself in her warm quilted grey hanten again before stepping out of her room and slipping on some winter appropriate footwear. The castle was still as she made her way through the corridors, her boots clicking lightly against the stone floors of the engawa.

Outside, the garden was blanketed in a fresh layer of white, the snowflakes falling slowly and silently around her. Rin and Shippo were already outside, bundled in warm clothes and giggling as they chased each other, their laughter echoing through the quiet courtyard. Kagome felt a pang of warmth in her chest as she watched them play—free, happy, and safe.

She stood there for a few moments, enjoying the serenity of the scene, when she felt Sesshomaru's presence.

"You seem at ease," Sesshomaru said quietly, stepping out beside her. His voice, as always, was calm and low, but there was something different about the way he said it. What that difference was, however, she couldn't say.

Kagome smiled up at him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear to keep it from fluttering about wildly in the cold breeze. "I am. It's nice to just watch them play for a while."

They stood there for a moment, side by side, both watching Rin and Shippo as they tumbled through the snow, their childish antics brightening the pale, wintery landscape.

Sesshomaru was silent for a time. He seemed almost thoughtful, though his sharp gaze remained fixed on the children. Kagome glanced at him from the corner of her eye. It looked like he wanted to say something, but she decided to be patient. She didn't have to wait long.

"Do you miss it?" he asked, his eyes still focused on the children.

"Miss what?" she asked, shifting slightly in the snow to face him better.

"Traveling. Fighting." He paused for a moment before adding, "Being with your companions."

Kagome blinked at the unexpected question, but then remembered their conversation from two days ago. It wasn't like Sesshomaru to ask about personal things, much less her feelings, but there was something almost vulnerable in the way he asked. She tilted her head slightly, considering her answer.

"I do miss them sometimes," she admitted. "Inuyasha, Sango, Miroku—they are like my family. We went through so much together, and I always had someone by my side. Even now, I still think about them and wish I could talk to them sometimes. Especially Inuyasha and my brother—those two always made life interesting." She chuckled softly at the thought.

Sesshomaru's gaze flickered ever so slightly at the mention of Inuyasha, but he didn't interrupt.

"But," Kagome continued, "I'm content, if that's what you mean. I have Rin and Shippo, and…" She hesitated for a second. She was going to say him, but thought better of it. "…and that's enough."

Sesshomaru's eyes met hers briefly, something unreadable flickering behind his golden irises. Kagome couldn't tell if he was surprised or in some way affected by her words, but the silence that followed was comfortable.

"I never had many friends growing up," Kagome continued a moment later, her voice soft as she looked out at Rin and Shippo. "When I was younger, the other kids thought I was weird. I had a hard time fitting in until I got older. But now... I feel lucky. I've found people who care about me and support me—even if things are a bit different here." She gave a small laugh, running her fingers through her hair. "I've had to learn a lot, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Here? Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes at the odd phrasing and stood quiet for a long time, his gaze still on the children. Deciding to continue with his current line of questioning, the demon lord spared the priestess a brief glance.

"Do you feel lonely now?" he asked, his voice softer this time.

Kagome shook her head. "No. I miss them, of course, but I'm not lonely. I'm surrounded by people who care about me. Even you, Sesshomaru." Her tone was teasing but genuine, and for a moment, she thought she saw the barest hint of something in his eyes. It made a little butterfly dance in her stomach, though she couldn't say why.

Sesshomaru, however, wasn't sure what to make of her words. Compared to what he knew of her adventures before, this was surely a quieter existence. And yet she still felt the connection between her and her friends? It seemed difficult to believe, but despite the light fluttering of her heartbeat, she gave no indication that she was lying, not that she had a reason to.

That led Sesshomaru to stare out further beyond the garden and contemplate something else entirely. Was he lonely? He had spent so much of his life in isolation, focused on becoming stronger, that the idea of companionship seemed almost foreign. His parents had not offered him support, or at least it had not felt like it at the time. They had given him expectations and responsibilities—things he had to strive for on his own. Yet now, as he stood beside Kagome, a woman who could so easily speak of care and affection from a position of strength rather than weakness, he wondered if perhaps he had missed something crucial.

Before he could dwell too long on the thought, a strand of Kagome's hair, loosened by the wind, fell across her face. Without thinking, Sesshomaru reached out, gently tucking the strand behind her ear much like she had done moments earlier. His fingers brushed against her skin, warm despite the cold air, and for a brief moment, their eyes met.

Kagome blinked in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she offered him a soft smile, a look of warmth and gratitude that made something stir inside him. He quickly withdrew his hand, turning his gaze back to the children.

Later that evening, Sesshomaru sat alone in his study, his thoughts wandering back to Kagome. The snow had continued to fall softly outside, muffling the world in a blanket of white. He found himself reflecting on her words, the way she had spoken so openly about her past, about her feelings. She was unlike anyone he had ever met—so trusting, so open, even with someone like him; someone, he reminded himself, who had tried to kill her on at least one occasion. What was the depth of this childhood loneliness that would allow her to forgive something like that?

He thought of how she had touched his hand when showing him how to use the "pencil," her fingers brushing against his with casual ease. Unlike most humans, she didn't flinch or cower from his or others' demonic characteristics. In fact, she seemed quite comfortable around him, as if she saw no difference between him and anyone else. It was… strange. Even other demons would slither away in fear or try to distract him with various shows of strength or wiles.

Perhaps she came from a place where humans and demons coexisted peacefully? He didn't know, though he was fairly certain such a place could not exist. It would make more sense if it was just Kagome who was naïve enough to believe she could befriend anyone regardless of race.

And yet, despite her naivety, she had proven herself time and time again to be more than capable. He thought of how she cared for Rin and Shippo, her patience, her kindness. She was a mystery—one that he was finding more and more intriguing with each passing day.

By the third day of her unexpected rest, Kagome found herself restless. Though she had enjoyed the peace and quiet, the hours seemed to stretch endlessly without the usual bustle of looking after Rin and Shippo or tending to various duties around the castle; the constant snowfall didn't help, obscuring the passage of time as it did. She had been lounging about in a simple kimono that morning that started stark white at the top and faded to charcoal grey towards the hem. A winter motif of pale, frost covered grass climbed up to the knee.

Deciding that she needed to stretch her legs, Kagome stood, testing that the grey obi that had been tied this morning by the staff was still in place before stepping into the engawa and slipping on her more practical tennis shoes.

Her mind wandered as she strolled through the eastern wing, revisiting the familiar corridors. She could see the lit candles making shadows in Sesshomaru's study and hear the children dancing around the library singing a children's song from her time. Her feet instinctively carried her to the Main Hall, where the long, wide room opened up to towering ceilings and elegant, grand doors.

As she reached the center, Kagome's gaze drifted towards the entrance to the western wing. Sesshomaru had never spoken of it, but Jaken had warned her to avoid that side of the castle when she first arrived all those months ago. Something about it had piqued her curiosity then, but it had been easy to ignore with so much to be done. Free as she was at the moment, however, the draw was stronger.

Standing in the dimly lit main hall, with the gentle whisper of a snowstorm growing outside, Kagome couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important in that wing—something left behind, hidden from sight. A slight chill climbed up her spine, reminding her that she had brought neither a hanten nor a jacket.

Glancing over her shoulder to ensure no one was watching, Kagome made her way toward the large, worn doors leading to the West Wing. She hesitated for a moment before gently pushing the door open. A rush of cold air greeted her, carrying with it the scent of old wood and damp stone. Cold as it was, her curiosity was stronger, and she squeezed through the opening before shutting the door behind her.

The hallway was a mirror of the eastern wing but desolate, abandoned. The engawa's shutters hadn't been sealed properly, letting the elements batter the hall, the snowstorm outside leaving a layer of frost on the stone floor. Kagome shivered, but her curiosity propelled her forward.

The wind howled down the open corridor, rattling the open shutters noisily. It felt different here—untouched and far too quiet, howling winds notwithstanding. The hallway smelled of dust and decay, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle. Everything felt... frozen in time.

The layout was a reflection of the Eastern Wing in its original grandeur, but it had been left to rot. And there were only two chambers here—both seemingly in complete disrepair. Kagome hesitated at the large doors on the far end, an image of a great dog demon faded on the rotten, torn screen. Kagome's heart picked up its rhythm as she forced open the squeaky wooden doors and slipped inside, not bothering to remove her shoes when the room was in such a state.

The room was dimly lit by the light filtering through the cracked shutters, but Kagome could still make out the faded elegance. The furniture was clearly once grand, yet now it sat broken and covered in dust, the once-bright fabrics of the cushions and drapes now muted by time. The wind whistled through the cracks in the walls, stirring the frayed curtains gently as if they were still trying to cling to their former glory.

As she wandered through the room that she was sure had belonged to Sesshomaru and Inuyasha's father, Kagome took in the faded remnants of what had once surely been a beautiful, elegant space. Yet, her eyes were drawn to something that stood out amidst the neglect: a golden frame partially covered by a heavy cloth.

Something tugged at her senses, and Kagome reached to pull the fabric away, revealing a portrait of a beautiful human woman. "Izayoi…" Kagome murmured, recognizing the woman instantly. The painting was almost untouched by time, still vibrant despite its age. There was a softness in the brushstrokes, a warmth in the way she was depicted. It was clear that she had been beloved. Kagome reached out, her fingertips lightly brushing the frame.

She felt a pang of sadness then, recognizing the loneliness this room symbolized. It had been forgotten, just like the human woman in the portrait. Was this why Sesshomaru never came here? Her fingers brushed against the frame again, and a gust of wind made the shutters rattle ominously. The storm was growing.

Sesshomaru had been looking for Kagome since the afternoon meal, which she had not attended. He had checked in on the children, spoken briefly to the staff, and even checked her quarters, but Kagome was nowhere to be found. His brow furrowed in frustration, a feeling of unease settling in his chest.

Following her lingering scent through the East Wing and to the Main Hall, he realized where she had disappeared.

Worry was quickly replaced with a more familiar and welcome emotion. Anger coursed through him, and his steps quickened to the old, unused door. With each step toward the place he had avoided for so long, his youki surged, flaring uncontrollably in his growing frustration. It bled into the air, suffocating the space with its intensity. He hadn't entered that wing in over 200 years, and the memories it stirred in him were better left forgotten.

"Miko."

The sharp, cold voice startled her, transfixed as she was on the image of Izayoi. Kagome spun around to find Sesshomaru standing in the doorway, his expression darker than she had ever seen before. His eyes were ablaze with fury, but beneath that, there was something deeper—pain, anger, and something raw and unspoken.

"Sesshomaru…" Kagome began, her voice quiet. She stepped back from the portrait, guilt settling into her chest. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Why are you here?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Kagome opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced her. He was angrier than she'd ever seen him, and there was no reasoning with him in this moment. And yet, she found herself frozen to the spot.

"You should not be here," Sesshomaru continued, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion. "I left instructions that this wing was not to be entered."

"I—"

"Jaken warned you," he cut her off, stepping further into the room, his presence dominating the space. His anger was palpable, and it felt like the air itself was growing colder with each passing moment. "This wing is forbidden for a reason."

Kagome took a step back deeper into the room and away from the clearly angry demon lord, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn't meant to upset him, but something about the way he was reacting felt... deeper than mere trespassing. "Sesshomaru," she said softly, "I didn't mean to—"

"Enough." His voice cut through the room like ice. "You do not understand."

His tone was harsher than she expected, and she felt a sting of frustration rise within her. Yes, she had overstepped, but she hadn't meant any harm.

"Look, I'm sorry for not listening, but hurting you was an accident. You're trying to hurt me on purpose."

Kagome's voice trembled slightly, but she held her ground. Sesshomaru's eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion, but his youki, still heavy and oppressive, surged once more.

"Hurt?" he replied, but Kagome could not tell if it was a question or a scoff.

Kagome made to leave, her kimono sleeve brushing Sesshomaru's hand as she passed him intent on leaving before things escalated. Sesshomaru moved faster, trying to stop her by grabbing her arm, but her spiritual energy shocked him before he could make contact, forcing him to take a few steps backward instead. For the first time, her power actually stung—not just an irritation, but a burning sensation, though there was no visible damage.

They both stood there staring at each other motionless for a moment, the tension between them thick enough to choke on.

Kagome spun on her heel then, her movements sharp and decisive as she made for the door once more. Sesshomaru's golden eyes followed her, a dangerous glint still lingering as his voice came out low, clipped.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"It's not wise to speak in anger," Kagome replied, trying to keep her voice calm, despite the storm brewing in the room.

"We are not finis—" Sesshomaru's words were cut short when he reached for her arm again. A sharp spark of her energy snapped against his hand, causing him to pull back, startled and angrier than before.

Kagome froze, her body tensing as she slowly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes, usually soft, now gleamed with resolve.

"Yes, we are," she emphasized, her voice cold but controlled. Without waiting for a response, she turned away again.

Sesshomaru, frustrated and unwilling to let her leave without having the final say, reached out once more to grasp her arm. This time, he was prepared for the spark—but not for the force. Her spiritual energy surged, far stronger than before, throwing him across the room with violent force. His claws instinctively flexed, catching her forearm as he was flung back, leaving deep, bloody trails across her skin.

Kagome cried out, clutching her arm as she staggered back, the shock of the pain stealing her breath for a moment.

Sesshomaru barely registered her cry. Stunned by the raw force of her spiritual power, he lay where he had fallen, his senses overwhelmed. Where her power had once left him with a warm, almost pleasant tingling, now it felt like fire coursing through his veins. He took a steadying breath, trying to control his reaction as the burning subsided. His body remained unscathed, but something deeper inside him had been seared.

Then, the scent of Kagome's blood reached him.

He froze. Shame twisted in his chest as he realized what he had done. He, who had sworn she would come to no harm under his protection, was the one who had hurt her. The realization stung deeper than any blow she could have landed. And though she had fought back, she managed to do so while leaving his body unharmed.

Consumed as he was by emotion and the scent of her blood, he did not notice Kagome leave.

He stewed in his own thoughts for a long time, both unable and unwilling to open his eyes and face what had happened. But he could only ignore the truth for so long.

For the first time in a long time, he opened his eyes and really looked at the room he had avoided. Dust clung to the once-pristine surfaces, and the air was thick with the smell of damp and decay. He had not set foot in this wing in over 200 years, and the memories it dredged up were ones he had long sought to forget. The anger and shame he had carried for his father, for abandoning the family in pursuit of a mortal woman, for the dishonor he believed it had brought, still lingered like a shadow over this place.

And yet, despite the state of disrepair, the painting of Inuyasha's mother remained untouched, a haunting reminder of a love that had survived the test of time—unlike the rest of the wing.

Sesshomaru sat in the silence, lost in thought. Had it been minutes? Hours? The wind outside howled, and the snowstorm made it impossible to tell the passage of time. His mind wandered, replaying his interactions with Kagome since she had come to stay with him. She was so different from any other being he had ever known. She showed no fear of him, even now when he had lost control.

He recalled the few times he had challenged his father in these very quarters. He had been young, so certain that his father was weakening himself by growing attached to a mere mortal woman. And yet here Sesshomaru was, in a position that felt dangerously familiar.

His father had been a fool, driven by emotions Sesshomaru had never wanted to understand. But perhaps there was more to it than he had ever allowed himself to see. Kagome had knowledge and power, both different yet complementary to his own. She was not merely a pretty face to be easily disregarded or discarded. Was this how his father had felt, unable to separate himself from the human woman who had captivated him?

Sesshomaru stood slowly, his legs feeling unsteady for the first time in centuries. Kagome's power had left him reeling, but he was pushed on by a deeper emotion. He moved to stand in front of the painting, exactly where Kagome had stood before. He stared at the woman in the portrait, but for a fleeting second, it wasn't Inuyasha's mother he saw—it was Kagome. The thought made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart clenched.

He had behaved dishonorably—not only by physically hurting Kagome but in allowing his emotions to take control. He wasn't ready to admit the full extent of the truth, but the sting of shame was enough to push him forward. He needed to right this situation immediately, if she would allow him.

Turning sharply from the portrait, Sesshomaru made his way toward the Main Hall, his steps purposeful but his mind clouded with regret. He would find Kagome, and he would apologize—perhaps tend to her wound if she hadn't already.