Chapter 15: The Charity Gala Part 2
Naraku returned to their table, greeted first by Kagura's approving smile. She reached for his hand as he approached, giving it a soft squeeze.
"That was beautiful," Kagura said, her voice warm but tinged with pride. "You spoke from the heart, and it showed."
Naraku gave her a small, genuine smile, the corners of his lips barely lifting, but the warmth in his gaze said everything. He took his seat between her and Kagome, letting out a soft exhale as he settled in.
He turned to Kagome, catching the brightness in her eyes that mirrored the pride he felt.
"You did wonderfully, Father," Kagome said, her voice soft but earnest. "I think you reached everyone here tonight."
Naraku's gaze lingered on her, his usually sharp features softening. "That means a great deal to me, Kagome," he said quietly, his deep voice carrying an undercurrent of sincerity.
Before the moment could stretch too far, Toga Taisho turned to Naraku who was sitting across from him with his usual air of confidence. He inclined his head, a smile playing on his lips that held a touch of amusement.
"An excellent speech, Naraku," Toga began, his tone smooth but laced with playful undertones. "It's not every day you manage to string together that many heartfelt sentences without terrifying half the room."
Kagura suppressed a chuckle, her lips twitching with amusement as Naraku raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Ah, Toga," Naraku replied smoothly, leaning back slightly in his chair. "It takes a special skill to inspire and intimidate simultaneously. Perhaps you should take notes?"
Toga chuckled, unbothered by the jab. "Noted," he replied easily, "though I think I'll leave the brooding intensity to you. It's not exactly my style."
Naraku inclined his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "A wise choice. It would clash with your… affable charm."
The two men exchanged a look that was both sharp and amused, a silent acknowledgment of the respect that underscored their banter.
"Well," Toga said, his grin widening, "all jokes aside, it was a fine speech. You've reminded us all of what truly matters—though, I suppose, your charming family here had something to do with that."
Naraku allowed a rare chuckle to escape. "Indeed, Toga. Even I am not immune to their influence."
Kagome smiled warmly at the exchange, and Kagura rested a hand on Naraku's arm, her eyes glinting with approval.
Toga offered a wink to Kagura and Kagome before engaging in conversation with Inukimi and Sesshoumaru. Meanwhile, Inuyasha sat further down the table, hunched over his phone, furiously typing. The glow of the screen reflected on his face as he muttered under his breath.
Naraku shook his head slightly, his gaze following Toga for a moment before turning back to his family. "Always one for theatrics," he muttered, though there was no venom in his tone.
"Remind you of anyone?" Kagura teased, arching an eyebrow.
Naraku only gave a small, knowing smile, his attention shifting briefly to Kagome, who looked back at him with pride still shining in her eyes.
The soft hum of wheels against carpet signaled the arrival of the evening's entrees. A parade of uniformed servers moved through the ballroom, their steps synchronized as they carried polished silver trays to each table.
But when the first round of appetizers was served, both men reached for the same delicate piece of lobster with surprising speed.
The competition escalated quickly. As another round of appetizers—crab cakes, caviar, and delicate puff pastries—was served, Naraku and Toga both dove in, their hands moving with alarming speed. Naraku, with his sleek black suit, casually reached for the next round of delicacies, throwing a sly glance at Toga as he speared another crab cake. "I've heard the rarest truffles come from the highlands of France," Naraku remarked, his voice smooth and cool. "Not quite as unique as the partnership I've just forged with a leading research institute, but still quite exquisite."
Toga smirked, picking up a fork and carefully placing a delicate bite of lobster into his mouth. "Perhaps," he replied, his tone equally smooth. "But did you know that the rarest species of caviar are found in the Caspian Sea? A rarity I've recently secured an exclusive supply of for my business." His eyes flickered over to Naraku, and then he casually added, "Though I do find the most enjoyable rarity is a fine meal, prepared with skill."
Naraku's lips curled into a subtle smile. "A fine meal indeed," he agreed, clearly trying to one-up his rival. He glanced at the table where his children were seated, then back at Toga. "Speaking of fine meals... Have you tasted the foie gras here? Simply divine." With that, he reached for yet another serving.
Before Toga could respond, he quickly dove in as well, his gaze never leaving Naraku's. "I wouldn't be so sure. It's said that the best foie gras comes from the Loire Valley in France. I believe I've sampled something from that very region, not long ago."
As they spoke, the two men piled food onto their plates with increasing speed. The guests around them exchanged glances, but no one dared interrupt the fierce culinary contest unfolding right before their eyes. Kagome, meanwhile, was trying to keep a straight face, but the sight of the two patriarchs competing over food was almost too absurd.
Kagura watched the escalating appetizer battle between Naraku and Toga, her perfectly manicured hand hovering over her wine glass. Her crimson lips parted as though to speak, but instead, she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in a rare break from her usual composure.
"Of all the things to turn into a competition…" she muttered under her breath, glancing sideways at Kagome, who was valiantly trying to suppress a laugh.
"Father doesn't even like foie gras that much," Kagome whispered, her shoulders shaking with poorly contained amusement.
"Exactly," Kagura said, her tone exasperated yet tinged with reluctant affection. "He's just showing off. Honestly, Kagome, remind me why I married that man."
Kagome snorted, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "Because you love him?" she offered, her voice teasing.
Kagura arched an elegant brow, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. "Some days, I wonder," she replied, though her eyes betrayed her fondness.
Meanwhile, at the Taisho table, Sesshoumaru's sharp golden gaze followed the spectacle. He turned his head slightly as Miroku strolled back to the table, his expression casual and entirely unbothered by the commotion.
"You've been gone a while," Sesshoumaru noted, his tone even. "Where were you?"
Miroku grinned as he slid into his chair, adjusting his tie with a flourish. "Oh, you know, mingling. Networking. Making connections."
Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed slightly. "Connections?"
Miroku's grin widened into something distinctly cheeky. "Fine, I'll admit it. I have a date."
Inuyasha, who had been slumped in his chair trying to ignore his father, perked up at that. "A date? At this event?" he asked, incredulous.
Miroku leaned back, exuding self-satisfaction. "Why not? What better place to meet someone sophisticated and charming?" His tone was light, but his gaze flicked to Sesshoumaru, his smirk turning knowing.
Before Sesshoumaru could respond, Miroku's attention shifted to the appetizer battle raging infront of them. His brows shot up in surprise. "Wait, are they… having an eating competition?"
Inukimi, still poised with her champagne, smirked. "Your uncle and Naraku have turned dinner into a spectacle. And I imagine neither will admit defeat."
Miroku chuckled, watching as Toga and Naraku each maneuvered to claim the last puff pastry on the tray. "Ah, true titans of industry. Conquering not just markets, but food."
Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "They're acting like kids."
Kagome's mind wandered. She had spent the past few weeks caught up in work—long hours studying for her doctorate, handling business matters for her family, and attending countless meetings. Tonight was meant to be a moment of respite, a chance to enjoy a gala and spend time with loved ones, but the exhaustion from her relentless schedule was catching up with her.
She had barely slept the night before, staying up late to review her notes, and now, at the dinner table, she felt the weight of it all—her body heavy and her mind foggy. She tried to push it aside, focusing instead on the grand atmosphere of the ballroom, the people around her, and the food, but it was hard to shake the feeling of being mentally drained.
Her eyes drifted to the two men at the head of the table—her father and Toga—locked in their ever-escalating culinary competition. They were as lively as ever, but Kagome found herself unable to join in their energy. Her gaze shifted absentmindedly, landing on Sesshoumaru.
His eyes were trained on her, and for a brief moment, she felt a strange, silent connection. His expression, seemed to soften just a little as he noticed her distant demeanor. She quickly averted her gaze, but the feeling of his watchful eyes on her lingered, as if he could see beyond her tired façade.
'The report.' She thought, she needed to finish it no matter what tonight. Hojo's neglect for the patients grating against her nerves like sandpaper.
The food in front of her was untouched for a while as she stewed in silence. She stabbed her fork into the delicate piece of beef on her plate a little too forcefully, the sharp metal cutting through it with an unintended violence. Her grip tightened around the utensil, and the small snap of tension in the air was unmistakable, though she kept her face composed, her expression still as calm as ever.
She blinked, surprised by her own outburst, but quickly regained control, her gaze shifting toward Sesshoumaru as if to compose herself. Her mouth, dry from frustration, opened to take a bite of her food, but her eyes remained unfocused, thoughts still swirling.
What bothered her more than anything, though, was that despite how much she tried to brush it off, Hojo's careless dismissals stuck. She had worked tirelessly and yet, it was never enough for him. If only he could understand—if only everyone could understand. The anger simmered just below the surface, and it took all of her willpower not to voice it.
Sesshoumaru eyes lingered on Kagome for longer than intended. He had noticed the way her posture had shifted, the subtle tension in her movements, and the stiffness that seemed to have settled in her shoulders. Her expression was composed, but he could sense the weariness emanating from her. The exhaustion was not just physical; there was something deeper—something unresolved beneath the calm exterior.
His gaze never wavered from her as she stabbed her fork into the piece of beef with an almost unsettling force. The sharpness of the movement was at odds with the delicate setting of the gala. The way she gripped the fork, the subtle snap in the air—she was angry, and it was a quiet, contained anger. There was no outburst, no shouting; just a barely noticeable tension simmering beneath the surface.
It reminded him—eerily so—of himself.
His instincts kicked in, wanting to understand what had caused this shift in her demeanor. But just as quickly, he reined in his thoughts, knowing that it was not his place to probe. Still, he couldn't ignore the pull he felt to help her, to ease whatever it was that weighed so heavily on her.
Miroku, noticing the subtle shift in Sesshoumaru's focus, let out a low chuckle. "You know, you're a good match for her," he remarked. "You both have that... intense focus thing going on."
Sesshoumaru didn't immediately respond, though his gaze lingered a moment longer on Kagome before he shifted his attention back to Miroku, his expression unreadable. "Miroku, you would do well to focus on your meal," he said, his tone a subtle reminder that some conversations were best left unsaid.
As the meal ended and the last of the dessert was cleared away, Naraku and Toga, always eager for a bit of competitive spirit, turned their attention to a new topic: their children. The tension between them was palpable, but this time, there was something different—a quiet, genuine pride in their voices.
Naraku, always the calculating businessman, glanced at Kagome, who had been quietly sipping her drink. "Well, I must say, Kagome has exceeded even my expectations. Not only is she working tirelessly as a resident doctor, but she also balances her responsibilities at our company. It's no small feat for someone her age."
Toga nodded, his gaze shifting to Sesshoumaru, who was seated beside him, calm as ever. "I agree. Sesshoumaru has truly stepped into his own. Managing both his engineering firm and assisting with our business has been impressive. He's always so composed, so determined to do things the right way. I couldn't ask for a better successor."
Naraku raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Ah, but I'll have you know that Kagome's dedication to her patients and the way she carries herself—it's exceptional. I'm proud of how she's grown, especially when it comes to handling the family business. She's not just a doctor; she's a leader in her own right."
Toga gave a knowing smile, but there was no arrogance in it. Just a father's pride. "I've seen the way Sesshoumaru manages everything with such precision. He doesn't allow distractions; his focus is unparalleled. I'm confident he'll continue to achieve great things, not just in the business world but in life as a whole."
Naraku looked over at Kagome, his gaze softer. "It's not just about the business or her career, though. Kagome's heart is in everything she does. Her compassion for others, whether it's her patients or our family, that's what makes me proud."
Toga leaned back, glancing between the two. "And while Sesshoumaru may be more reserved, there's no doubt that he's one of the most capable people I know. He has the skills to lead, the mind to innovate. His future is incredibly bright."
Toga smiled, though there was a hint of playfulness in his tone. "Inuyasha certainly has... enthusiasm," he said, his gaze flicking toward his younger son, who had been snacking on dessert, seemingly less concerned with the serious conversation at hand. "He's more free-spirited than Sesshoumaru. But perhaps that's what will give him the edge. He's not bound by the traditional rules of business. He's willing to challenge the status quo."
Toga gave a knowing smile but continued, "Still, Inuyasha's heart is in the right place. I'm confident that he'll carve out success in our company."
Naraku nodded, acknowledging Toga's perspective. "My son; Shippo," he said, "the boy's determination is unmatched. He's young, but he's already studying to take over aspects of the business, even if it's just learning from Kagome. He's ambitious, eager to contribute. I can see a bright future ahead for him."
"And Kanna, my youngest," Toga added softly, his expression softening with pride. "I'm amazed at her focus. At such a young age, she's already shown an incredible aptitude for learning—especially in the sciences. She's fascinated by space. I'm not sure where she'll end up, but I have no doubt she will be a force to be reckoned with."
The two fathers sat back, the conversation slowly winding to a close, the quiet satisfaction of shared pride lingering in the air. For once, there was no need for competition.
Meanwhile, Kagura and Inukimi, who had been silently observing the exchange, exchanged a look of mutual exasperation. The endless one-upmanship between their husbands was tiring, and it was clear that they had both reached their limit. With a shared, almost amused sigh, they turned away from the conversation, their husbands' competitive streaks not even registering in their minds anymore. They had heard it all before, and they both knew—ultimately, their children would pave their own futures, regardless of what their fathers thought.
Kagome quietly excused herself from the table after the meal ended. She knew the bidding competition would take a while, and although she had tried to push the weight of the report from her mind, the pressure had only grown. Her father's pride, though comforting, had reminded her of the unfinished task that gnawed at her.
"I'll be back soon," she said with a polite but tired smile, trying to keep her voice casual, though her parents noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor.
Her footsteps were quiet as she walked away from the bustle of the ballroom, weaving through the crowd until the loud chatter and clinking glasses began to fade behind her. She didn't want her parents or anyone else to worry, so she didn't mention the report.
Her mind, however, was far from relaxed. She was already thinking ahead, mentally checking the notes she had made earlier. A quick glance at her wristwatch told her she had plenty of time, but her body ached for rest.
In her wandering, she found herself in another hallway, spotting a lounge chair nearby, its inviting cushions calling to her. Without much thought, Kagome slipped into the seat, smoothing her dress over her lap as she reached into her pockets to pull out the small medical book, along with a pen she had tucked in earlier.
She adjusted herself in the chair, setting the book on her lap as she double-checked the report she had printed out. The weight of her exhaustion began to sink in as her pen danced over the paper. But despite her best efforts to focus, her eyelids grew heavier with each line she read.
She tugged gently at the pins in her hair, letting her dark locks fall loosely over her shoulders, the soft strands spilling around her like a comforting veil. With a soft sigh, she rested her head back against the lounge chair, allowing the rhythm of her pen to slow and eventually stop as her body betrayed her.
Kagome's breathing evened out, and without meaning to, she drifted off to sleep. Her pen lay forgotten against her medical book half-open on her lap with the report in clear view. The only sound in the still night was the gentle music emanating from the ballroom somewhere around the halls and Kagome, weary from the demands of her day, slept soundly despite the unfinished tasks awaiting her.
Inukimi, took a sip of her wine, the glass delicately balanced in her hand as she had moved over to sit with Kagura. "I must admit," she began, a playful glint in her eyes, "I didn't expect tonight to turn into quite the... spectacle. But I suppose it's just their way of passing the time, isn't it?"
Kagura chuckled softly, her gaze flicking toward Naraku and Toga."Oh, absolutely. It's as though they've forgotten they're adults." She shook her head, a small, knowing smile on her lips. "But in a way, it's nice to see them so... carefree."
Inukimi nodded, her expression softening as she looked around the room, her thoughts turning inward. "Carefree indeed. At least someone is enjoying themselves," she said, her gaze turning more thoughtful. "And speaking of the children, I must say—your eldest daughter is truly remarkable. She ensured the health and safety of my nephew the other day."
Kagura's smile deepened with pride. "Thank you, Inukimi. It's always been her dream to become a doctor. She's worked so hard, and she's very close to achieving it. She takes her responsibilities seriously."
Inukimi's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "My eldest has taken quite an interest in her as well."
Kagura raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto her face. "Oh, I'm aware," she replied. "After all, he did make sure Kagome was warm with his jacket when she fell asleep in the park that day."
Inukimi's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Ah, that's why he was missing his coat that day!" she said, feigning surprise. "I thought he was simply trying to start a new trend."
Kagura burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Oh, I'm sure it's more than just a trend. But it's good to see that he cares."
Inukimi chuckled, her eyes softening. "Yes, it's funny how these little moments say so much more than they seem at first. I think they both have a lot to learn from each other."
Kagura agreed, her tone light but filled with fondness. "Indeed, it's those small gestures that make the biggest impact."
"Would you like to see a picture of him when he was younger? Perhaps I can also show you one of my youngest-Kanna?" Inukimi gestured pulling out her phone.
Kagura raised an eyebrow, intrigued but amused by the suggestion. "Ah, so now you're pulling out the big guns—pictures of the children, huh? Alright, I'm game, but only if you promise not to show me those embarrassing 'I just learned to walk and fell face-first into the mud' photos."
Inukimi chuckled, pulling out her phone with a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, don't worry, I've got nothing like that. I've kept those for blackmail purposes." She scrolled through her phone, a smug smile on her face. "But I do have a few pictures of Inuyasha when he was younger, looking all cute and innocent—before he discovered the power of snacks and getting into trouble."
Kagura rolled her eyes, laughing. "You mean before he discovered the power of embarrassing his parents in public?"
"Exactly." Inukimi pulled up a picture and showed it to Kagura. "Here, look at this one. He's just a little rascal, isn't he? But somehow, he grew up into that very... enthusiastic young man."
Kagura laughed and reached for her own phone. "Alright, I'll raise you a picture of Shippo. He's probably going to be the type of person who'll refuse to let anyone forget that he used to wear mismatched socks when he was little."
Inukimi smirked. "I see your Shippo and raise you a Kanna who once tried to interrogate her stuffed animals believing they came to life when she sleeps. She was so serious about it, too."
Kagura laughed, holding up her phone. "That sounds like something Shippo would try to do."
Miroku, still seated at the table after the meal, watched as Kagome quietly left the ballroom. This was his moment.
His eyes darted around, and he scrambled to his feet in a dramatic fashion, almost knocking over his glass. He looked at Sango, who was sitting across the table, and mouthed, "The watch!"
Sango gave him a subtle wink in response.
Miroku quickly pretended to search his jacket pockets, his face growing more frantic by the second. "Oh no… No, no, no!" He muttered loudly, making sure the nearby guests could hear. "It's gone! It's gone! My father's watch! This is… this is catastrophic!"
Inuyasha, who had been chatting with a group nearby, overheard Miroku's outburst and immediately walked over, a smirk playing on his lips. "What's your deal? It's just a watch."
Miroku's eyes widened in exaggerated panic as he turned to face Inuyasha. "No, you don't understand! This is my father's watch—passed down through generations. It's irreplaceable!" He gestured to his wrist where the watch was clearly missing. "I can't believe I lost it!"
Inuyasha rolled his eyes but couldn't resist the bait. "Alright, alright, calm down. What do you need me to do?"
Before Miroku could respond, Sesshoumaru, who had been watching the commotion from the sidelines, approached them. His calm demeanor was at odds with the drama unfolding around him, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
"Is something wrong?" Sesshoumaru asked, his voice steady, but tinged with an edge.
Miroku, seizing the opportunity, put on his best desperate expression and immediately launched into his plan. "Sesshoumaru! You have to help me! My father's watch—it's gone! I must've dropped it somewhere in the hallway. Can you help me look? You are better at finding things than Inuyasha-remember last time?!" His voice trembled with faux urgency, and he gave a sly grin inwardly, knowing this was working perfectly.
Inuyasha, now clearly irritated, crossed his arms. "I offered to help, you know…"
Miroku waved him off with a dramatic flourish, not even acknowledging his younger cousin. "Inuyasha, you wouldn't understand the significance of this watch! It's priceless, irreplaceable! Sesshoumaru, you know this!."
Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow at Miroku, who was clearly laying it on thick, but his composure remained unshaken. Miroku's attachment to his family's antiques was well known; the man treated them with the same obsessive care a squirrel gives its precious hoard of nuts. Still, as much as Sesshoumaru could see through the act, the lingering memory of the hospital incident was enough to make him pause. It was better to indulge Miroku now than risk another chaotic turn of events.
"I'll help you," Sesshoumaru said coolly, brushing past Inuyasha without another word. "Lead the way."
Miroku, relieved, gave a subtle nod and immediately motioned for Sesshoumaru to follow him as they exited the ballroom. He shot a quick glance at Sango, who was still engrossed in her phone, clearly amused by the charade.
Meanwhile, Inuyasha stood there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. "Unbelievable."
Once they stepped out into the hallway, Miroku pointed in the opposite direction of where they'd come from. "You check down there, and I'll look this way," he instructed, his voice dripping with faux seriousness.
Sesshoumaru gave Miroku a skeptical look, an eyebrow raised, but he didn't argue. Instead, he turned and walked down the corridor. Meanwhile, Miroku quietly slipped back into the ballroom, where Sango was casually speaking to a few of the staff members near the entrance.
Sango glanced up at him, a curious expression on her face. "Did you tell him?"
Miroku nodded eagerly, a grin spreading across his face. "Yes. Let's see how it goes."
Sango sighed, shaking her head but not hiding her amusement. "They've only got an hour or so, Miroku. People will need to use the washrooms eventually…"
Miroku waved her off dismissively, his grin widening. "It's worth the sacrifice."
Sango raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. After all, she wanted this just as badly for Kagome.
As Miroku and Sango stood near the ballroom entrance, their eyes flicking between the hallway and the staff, they exchanged a knowing look. Miroku's grin had only grown wider, his excitement palpable.
The staff, under Sango's subtle instructions and a generous bribe from Miroku, had begun to move discreetly around the room. One by one, they started to close the large, ornate doors to the ballroom, the sound of each heavy door sliding shut barely audible, but enough to add a sense of finality to the unfolding plan.
Sango, arms crossed, leaned against the wall with a smirk. "Looks like the game is almost up."
Miroku stood next to her, his hand resting casually on his chin, clearly enjoying the moment. "Indeed. Let's see how Sesshoumaru reacts when he realizes he's been... locked out."
The staff moved with quiet precision, ensuring no one noticed the change. One by one, the once wide-open doors began to close with a soft click. Miroku and Sango barely exchanged another word, their eyes fixed on the scene, as the final door slowly slid shut.
"Oh, this is going to be good," Miroku muttered under his breath as he and Sango exchanged a satisfied glance.
From within the ballroom, the sounds of laughter, conversation, and music flowed as if nothing unusual had happened. The doors were now securely shut, and the night had turned into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse. Meanwhile, Miroku's watch—safe and sound—remained untouched, but his meticulously crafted chaos was unfolding with precision, just as he had planned. The evening was about to take a very interesting turn.
"Perfect," Sango said with a knowing smile, watching the doors, waiting for the inevitable. "Now, it's just a matter of time."
The candy corner had become a little kingdom, with Shippo at the helm. Kanna had stayed by his side, offering quiet help, mostly as an observer, though she occasionally helped hand out the sweets when Shippo became distracted by his own candy samples.
But soon enough, another pair of children approached, drawn to the colorful chaos at the candy corner. Kohaku and Rin stood in front of the table, both looking a little hesitant, though Rin's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she studied the candy jars.
"Hey guys!" Shippo greeted them with a grin. "Welcome to the best candy spot in the whole gala!" He waved his hands dramatically. "What can I get you? Gummies? Chocolates? Cupcakes the size of your head?"
Rin giggled, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You're so excited about candy," she said, smiling at Shippo's enthusiasm.
Kohaku raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "You sure you're not just here to eat all the candy yourself?"
Shippo gave him an indignant look. "I'm not a candy hog! I'm the boss. I'm here to make sure everything is... uh, up to my very high standards." He glanced at Kanna, who had remained unusually quiet beside him. "Kanna, you should show them your—uh, your candy favorites!"
Kanna, still feeling a bit shy in the presence of new faces, hesitated. She glanced at Shippo, then at Rin, who was looking at her with a soft, welcoming expression. Kanna gave a small nod before reaching for a jar of pastel mints. "I... I like these," she said, offering the jar to Rin. "They're... refreshing."
Rin smiled gently, her eyes bright. "Oh, thank you, Kanna!" She took a mint from the jar, her fingers brushing Kanna's just slightly. "They're so pretty, and I love mint."
Kanna's cheeks flushed a little, but she smiled back, her quiet demeanor melting just a bit. "I... I think they're good too."
Shippo watched them both, his face breaking into a big grin. He threw an arm around Kanna's shoulders, startling her just a bit, but she didn't pull away. "You're officially the second-in-command now. Rin's your new candy partner, right?"
Kanna's cheeks turned a little redder, but she nodded. "I guess so..."
Kohaku, who had been silently observing the interaction, smirked. "Seems like the Candy Boss might need a little help after all."
Shippo puffed his chest out. "Pfft, I'm just delegating. Kanna's in charge of the mints, Rin can handle the gummies. I'm still the boss, though. I'm the one who eats all the chocolate."
Rin laughed, a soft, melodious sound, and Kohaku rolled his eyes but smiled. "Alright, alright, but I think I'll stick to the gummy bears."
Rin and Kanna exchanged glances, both grinning now as the four of them worked together, giving out candy and chatting quietly.
The candy corner had come to a close, Shippo standing triumphantly behind the table as he gave a theatrical flourish. "And that, my friends, marks the end of the candy extravaganza!" He paused dramatically, glancing over at Kanna. "Now, for our next mission... dinner!"
Kanna blinked, her attention still focused on the empty candy jars. "Dinner?" she asked softly.
"Yup! Time for a food break! You can't run a candy corner without filling up on some real food," Shippo declared, puffing out his chest as if he were the king of the gala.
Kohaku grinned, nudging Rin. "Seems like Shippo's ready for dinner more than anyone."
Rin giggled. "It's all part of his plan to get to the food before anyone else."
As the kids moved toward the dining area, Shippo eagerly scanned the menu. "I'm going for the chicken nuggets and fries, no doubt about it. Can't go wrong with that." He grabbed a chair and sat down dramatically.
Kanna, still a little shy, hesitated before picking up her own menu. She wasn't used to deciding on her meal with so many choices. After a moment of careful thought, she pointed to the grilled cheese sandwich. "I'll have this," she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Rin, who had been glancing over her own menu, perked up when she saw the macaroni and cheese. "I'll have this!" she declared excitedly, then giggled. "It's like a big cheesy hug."
Kohaku raised an eyebrow. "I guess I'll stick with the chicken fingers. Can't beat those."
Shippo looked over at his friends, giving a satisfied nod. "Great choices, everyone! We're all food experts now!" He turned to Kanna with a grin. "You're going to love grilled cheese, trust me. It's basically a sandwich made of happiness."
Rin laughed. "And macaroni and cheese is basically a cheesy dream come true."
Kohaku smirked, his arms crossed. "I think I'll have the best meal of all. Chicken fingers are undefeated."
Shippo puffed his chest out proudly. "You all have excellent taste, but everyone knows nuggets rule the world. Don't worry, though, I'm sure chicken fingers will do their job."
The waiter arrived to take their orders, and each child confidently ordered their meal, excited for their next adventure—this time, in the world of food. As they settled into their seats, Shippo looked around with a satisfied grin.
"This is going to be the best meal ever." Shippo declared.
Kanna, feeling a little more at ease now with her new friends, smiled shyly at Rin and Kohaku.
Sesshoumaru walked briskly down the quiet hallway, the muffled sounds of the gala fading behind him. The search for Miroku's missing watch occupied his thoughts—until he passed the lounge and saw her.
Kagome was curled up in a lounge chair, her head tilted back in peaceful slumber. Her hair, which had been neatly pinned up earlier, now tumbled freely to her waist, framing her face in soft waves. The faint rise and fall of her chest spoke of the exhaustion that had finally claimed her.
Sesshoumaru paused in the doorway, his sharp gaze softening. A memory surfaced—her dozing off in the park not long ago, the sunlight catching in her hair as she rested her head on her books. She worked too hard.
He stepped closer, lowering himself to her level. A stray strand of her hair fell across her cheek, and he brushed it back with a careful touch. "You fell asleep again," he murmured softly, his tone tinged with an almost imperceptible fondness.
The report she had been holding slipped from her grasp, fluttering to the floor. Sesshoumaru bent to retrieve it, intending only to set it aside. But as his eyes scanned the text, his expression darkened. This wasn't a routine document.—it was serious, much more serious than he had anticipated.
Carefully, he set the report aside and adjusted her position, ensuring she would be more comfortable. For a moment, he lingered, his gaze tracing the lines of her face.
With a quiet sigh, Sesshoumaru straightened, and picked up the report.
The report detailed discrepancies in a medical trial, even the potential mishandling of medication. Kagome's handwriting filled the margins, annotations scattered here and there, a sense of urgency in her notes. The sound of Kagome stirring brought him back to the moment. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, a mixture of confusion and sleepiness clouding her expression. When she noticed him standing there, she blinked several times in quick succession.
She mumbled groggily, clearly still trapped in the haze of sleep. "What...?"
He didn't respond right away, his golden eyes fixed on her as she pushed herself upright. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders, and she quickly smoothed it back, clearly self-conscious. There was a faint blush on her cheeks.
"This fell," he said quietly, holding up the document.
Her eyes widened, and she shot to her feet, reaching for it. "How much of that did you read?" she asked, her voice rising in alarm.
"You're overworked," he said again, his voice sharper this time. "You need to rest. Whatever this is, it can wait until you're in a clearer state of mind."
Kagome's eyes narrowed. "I don't have time to rest. You don't understand." She reached for the report again, her fingers brushing his hand as she tried to take it from him. "I need to finish this. It's my responsibility."
Sesshoumaru's brow furrowed as he held the report out of her reach, stepping back just enough to keep her from taking it. His gaze remained fixed on her, now filled with a rare intensity. "No."
Kagome's eyes flashed with irritation. "Give me the report!"
His expression softened just slightly as he took in her frustration, but he wasn't about to back down. "If this is what I think it is, if you report this mistake—this could implicate your family's business."
She took a shaky breath. "I know the risks, Sesshoumaru."
Sesshoumaru's golden eyes stayed on her, his expression calm but serious as her words hung in the air. He didn't speak immediately, allowing the silence to settle, heavy and deliberate.
"I understand what you're saying," he said finally, his voice low and steady, "but have you considered the consequences?"
Sesshoumaru stepped closer, his presence both grounding and imposing. "Your career is on the line, Kagome. If this goes public, you could lose everything you've worked for. And your family—your parents' business—could be ruined. Scandals like this don't discriminate between the guilty and the innocent. They target the ones with the most to lose."
Kagome looked away, "I know this, but I will not let it stop me."
Sesshoumaru's golden eyes sharpened, his expression unreadable but focused. He stepped closer, his voice calm yet firm. "Why are you so determined to do this?"
Kagome's gaze snapped up to meet his. "Because I can't live with myself if I don't," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "If I stay silent and more people get hurt—if lives are lost because I was too afraid to act—I'll carry that guilt forever. This isn't just about me, or my family's reputation. This is about patients who trust us. People with families, people who don't deserve to be casualties of someone else's mistakes."
Sesshoumaru watched her in silence, her words striking a chord deep within him. Her resolve, her unwavering sense of responsibility, was both admirable and deeply concerning.
"You're willing to risk everything," he said slowly, his voice quieter now. "Your career. Your family's business. All of it—for people you don't even know."
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on. "Yes," she said firmly. "Because it's the right thing to do. And if I don't act, the fallout will be worse. They'll say I covered it up, that I turned a blind eye to protect myself. At least this way, I have a chance to control the narrative, to make sure the truth comes out."
Sesshoumaru stepped closer, his imposing presence grounding her even as his gaze softened slightly. "You understand the risks better than most," he said, his tone measured. "But that doesn't make them any less real. I've seen how scandals like this unfold. People in your position—they're the ones who take the brunt of it. The media will tear you apart, paint you as a scapegoat, whether you're guilty or not."
"I know," Kagome said. "I've thought about it every day since I found out. But I can't let fear stop me. If I don't act, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."
Sesshoumaru studied her in silence, the weight of her words settling in the space between them. Finally, with a quiet sigh, he reached out and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. His touch was steady, grounding, and unexpectedly warm.
"Then you won't do this alone," he said firmly, his voice low but resolute. "I'll help you."
Kagome blinked, startled by his declaration. Her breath hitched as her heart skipped a beat.
"Why?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
His golden gaze held hers, steady and unwavering. "Because I've seen this play out before," he said, his tone even. "And no one should face it alone."
Gratitude welled up in her chest, the weight of her burden easing just slightly. "Thank you," she whispered, her words heavy with sincerity. "But I can handle this on my own."
Sesshoumaru's lips curved ever so slightly, a fleeting smile that softened the sharpness of his features. "Perhaps," he replied, his voice tinged with quiet confidence. "But sometimes, strength is knowing when to let someone fight beside you."
Kagome blinked up at him, her eyes meeting his her lips parted slightly as though she wanted to say something more. But before she could speak, the sound of laughter echoed down the hallway, followed by hurried footsteps.
"Kagome!" a familiar voice called, light and exuberant.
Startled, Kagome's head whipped toward the sound. Shippo and Kanna rounded the corner.
Without thinking, Kagome grabbed Sesshoumaru's hand—the one holding the report—and quickly moved to tuck it behind her back. Sesshoumaru, catching on instantly, shifted his stance to shield the document from view, his body naturally blocking the children's line of sight. His movements were seamless, as though this level of discretion came as second nature.
"Kagome!" Shippo said again, his hair slightly tousled as he bounded toward her, Kanna trailing behind with a quieter but equally curious smile. "What are you doing all the way out here?"
Kagome forced a smile, her heart racing as she tried to appear composed. "Oh, just... taking a little break." Her voice was light, but her grip on Sesshoumaru's arm behind her was firm. She prayed they wouldn't notice anything amiss.
Kanna tilted her head, her soft voice carrying just a hint of curiosity. "Is everything okay? You look... tired." Her eyes flickered briefly to Sesshoumaru, then back to Kagome.
Sesshoumaru, ever the master of control, straightened his posture and gave Kanna a brief nod. "She needed to rest," he said evenly, his tone betraying nothing. "And I was assisting her."
Shippo squinted suspiciously at Sesshoumaru, crossing his arms as he stepped closer, his small chest puffed up in a comically protective stance. "Assisting her with what?" he demanded, his tone sharp for someone so young. "Kagome can take care of herself, you know!"
Kagome bit her lip, suppressing a laugh at her brother's sudden bravado. She glanced at Sesshoumaru, who raised an eyebrow at the boy's interrogation but remained as composed as ever.
"She looked tired," Sesshoumaru replied evenly, his golden eyes meeting Shippo's without a hint of irritation. "I offered to help her find a quiet place."
Shippo narrowed his eyes further, stepping even closer to Sesshoumaru, his black hair bouncing slightly with each determined step. "Help her? How exactly?" His gaze flickered to Kagome, then back to Sesshoumaru, as if daring him to give the wrong answer. "Did she ask for your help, or are you just following her around?"
Kagome's cheeks flushed as she placed a hand on Shippo's shoulder, gently pulling him back. "Shippo, it's not like that," she said quickly, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "Sesshoumaru was just being polite."
"Polite?" Shippo repeated, looking unconvinced. He turned to Kanna for backup. "What do you think, Kanna? Do you think he was really just helping her?"
Kanna, who had been silently observing the exchange, tilted her head thoughtfully. Her pale eyes flicked between Sesshoumaru and Kagome, her tiny lips pressing into a contemplative pout. Finally, she shrugged. "Sesshoumaru always looks like that," she said softly. "I can't tell."
Shippo huffed, crossing his arms again. "Well, I don't trust him. Kagome's my sister, and it's my job to make sure nobody bothers her. Right, Kagome?"
Kagome stifled a laugh. "I appreciate it, Shippo," she said warmly, her smile softening his scowl. "But Sesshoumaru isn't bothering me. He's actually been... helpful."
"Helpful, huh?" Shippo grumbled, eyeing Sesshoumaru one last time before reluctantly stepping back. "Fine. But I'm keeping an eye on you, mister."
Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change, though a faint glimmer of amusement flickered in his eyes. "Duly noted," he said smoothly, inclining his head ever so slightly toward Shippo.
Kanna stepped forward then, her delicate fingers tugging at Sesshoumaru's sleeve. "Were you having a secret meeting?" she asked innocently, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that why you're hiding something behind your back?"
Both Kagome and Sesshoumaru stiffened for a split second before Kagome forced a bright laugh, shaking her head. "No, no secret meetings," she said quickly, glancing at Sesshoumaru for support. "We were just talking."
Kanna blinked up at her brother, her gaze steady and curious. "Are you sure? You never talk to people like that." Her small hands tugged at his sleeve again. "You were smiling a little. I saw it."
Sesshoumaru's jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't falter. "You're imagining things," he replied calmly, gently placing a hand on Kanna's head to steer her away from the conversation. "It's time to go back to your section."
Kanna pouted but allowed herself to be guided, while Shippo gave Sesshoumaru one last wary glance. "I'll be watching you," he muttered under his breath as he followed Kanna down the hall.
Kagome and Sesshoumaru exchanged weary glances as the sound of Kanna and Shippo's footsteps faded down the hall. Kagome let out a quiet, shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "That was… close," she murmured, her voice tinged with relief.
Sesshoumaru's gaze was steady, though his posture remained impeccably calm. "Your brother is unusually sharp for his age," he said.
Kagome smiled wryly. "Shippo has a good heart, but he's a little too eager to report everything back to my parents. It's like having my own personal spy." She shook her head. "The way he was glaring at you… he's not convinced you're harmless."
Sesshoumaru arched a brow faintly, the ghost of a smirk flickering across his face. "Perhaps it's better he remains skeptical. It keeps him vigilant."
Kagome chuckled softly. "And your sister? She doesn't miss much, does she? For someone so quiet, she's surprisingly… daring"
"Daring," Sesshoumaru repeated, his tone contemplative. "She is curious by nature, but she lacks a filter. If you hadn't deflected, she might have taken the paper straight from my hand."
Kagome's eyes widened.
Sesshoumaru inclined his head slightly, his voice calm but tinged with faint humor. "She learns quickly. One must tread carefully around her."
Kagome tilted her head, her smile softening. "You really care about her, don't you?"
For a brief moment, Sesshoumaru's gaze flickered, the faintest trace of warmth crossing his otherwise composed features. "Kanna is my sister," he said simply. "It's my responsibility to ensure her well-being."
Kagome nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Shippo's the same for me. Sometimes I feel like I have to shield him from the world… even when he's the one trying to protect me."
A comfortable silence settled between them before Sesshoumaru spoke again. "They are young. They will learn in time.
The two stood like that for a while, Kagome's hand still wrapped around Sesshoumaru's arm.