Sesshoumaru was, as Kagome had so eloquently put it, grumpy.
He wouldn't have used that word, of course. Grumpy was for children and old men—not for a powerful demon lord like himself. But there was no denying the irritation that burned beneath his calm exterior.
It had started the morning after Kagome's late-night panic. She had woken up with a look in her eyes that he couldn't quite place, but she refused to talk about it. Every time he tried to broach the subject, she'd brush him off, focusing all her attention on the children or retreating into meditation. Sesshoumaru had learned to wait. Patience was one of his virtues, after all—or so he believed.
But Kagome had a way of testing that patience.
As if her silence wasn't enough, things had gone further downhill during one of their midday breaks. While the pack got ready to eat their meal, Rin had uncovered the stash of snacks Mrs. Higurashi had packed for him, the one he had carefully hidden away for himself. It was a rare indulgence, one that he'd been silently looking forward to.
In his defense, it wasn't as though he had a taste for human food in general. But those snacks—sweet, salty, perfectly portioned—they were a weakness he allowed himself.
Rin, however, had no such restraint. Neither did Shippou, or Jaken, for that matter. In the span of mere minutes, the three of them had descended upon the stash like ravenous beasts, devouring the entire supply in a single sitting. Sesshoumaru could only watch in silent horror as his carefully hoarded treats disappeared.
Now, Sesshoumaru was not a petty demon—at least, he told himself he wasn't. But as he watched Jaken licking crumbs from his fingers, Shippou proudly showing off the last candy wrapper, and Rin beaming up at him with chocolate smeared across her face, he found it difficult not to let his disappointment show.
It didn't help that Rin had also developed an attachment to the penguin souvenir he'd grudgingly allowed her to keep from their trip to the aquarium. The stuffed animal—once pristine in its white and black glory—was now covered in smudges of dirt and grass, its once-fluffy fur matted and grimy. The sight of it made something in Sesshoumaru's chest tighten, though whether it was frustration or reluctant fondness, he couldn't say.
So yes, maybe Sesshoumaru was grumpy.
"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Rin called happily, running up to him with the penguin in hand. "Look! I made a flower crown for Mr. Penguin!" She proudly displayed the dirty, battered toy now adorned with a lopsided ring of wildflowers.
Sesshoumaru stared at it, the corner of his eye twitching ever so slightly. "Hn," was all he managed in response, though inwardly he was mourning the further degradation of the once-regal toy.
Kagome, who had been watching from the sidelines as she packed away empty water bottles and now clean kettle, stifled a laugh behind her hand. She had been distant all morning, but seeing Sesshoumaru struggle to maintain his calm around the children was clearly too much for her. Shouldering her backpack she walked over to the tree he sat under just as Rin was running off to show her creation to Shippo.
"You're taking this well," she signed, her tired eyes tinged with amusement.
Sesshoumaru gave her a sidelong glance, the faintest hint of a scowl tugging at his lips. "They are children," he said, though even he couldn't hide the strain in his movements. "They do not know better."
Kagome raised an eyebrow, smirking down at him. "Well, look at you, so patient and understanding. Almost like… a dad."
The word hit him harder than expected. He straightened, stiffening slightly. He had long accepted his role as Rin's protector, and even Shippou had earned a grudging place in his care. But as a father? He didn't have the patience for such a title.
For a moment, the light tension between them eased, and Sesshoumaru found himself enjoying the playful air. But then Kagome's expression faltered, and the shadow of whatever had plagued her the night before seemed to return. She looked away, the light in her eyes dimming.
"Kagome," he said softly, knowing she couldn't hear him. So he stood and moved to stand in front of her, "you cannot continue to avoid speaking of what troubled you."
She glanced up at him, and for a moment, it seemed as though she might open up, but then she shook her head, offering him a weak smile. "Not today, Sesshoumaru. Please."
He clenched his jaw, a flash of frustration surging through him. He hated being kept in the dark—especially when it came to her.
But before he could press further, Rin tugged on his sleeve, holding up the penguin once more. "Do you think Mr. Penguin would like some soup? I think he's hungry."
Sesshoumaru's face remained impassive, though he could feel Kagome's amused gaze on him once more. "No," he said simply, "Mr. Penguin does not require sustenance."
As Rin pouted and walked off to find Shippou again, Kagome couldn't help but chuckle, leaning in a little closer to him. "You know, you really are a big softy."
He glared at her, his expression hard. "And you," he signed, "are avoiding the issue."
Kagome's smile faltered again, but this time, she didn't turn away. Instead, she sighed and shook her head.
"Maybe tomorrow," she replied. "I'll tell you tomorrow."
When tomorrow came, Kagome did not honor her word. Instead, she used the excuse of a nearby jewel shard to evade him once again. Since leaving Edo, they had tracked down three shards in a little over two weeks. It amazed her how efficient and dependable Sesshoumaru was, as if nothing could stand in his way.
But the shadow in her mind had begun to poison that admiration.
Careful, little bird. You're beginning to drool over the dog like a bitch in heat.
Naraku's voice echoed in her thoughts, the venomous whisper filling her with doubt. She bit her lip and looked away just as Sesshoumaru struck down a rabid bear demon with a single blow. The ease with which he handled the creature was impressive, but Kagome couldn't bear to watch him any longer. Not with that voice lurking in the back of her mind, twisting every thought into something dark.
She refused to look at him, even when he approached her, dropping the tainted shard of the Shikon Jewel into her waiting hand. His aura was trying to comfort her, and the shame of it all tightened around her chest like a vice.
She flinched when his clawed fingers gently tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His golden eyes searched her face and her cheeks flushed under the intensity of his attention.
"Are you well?" he asked with his other hand.
Are you going to tell him how you daydream about those hands doing sinful things to you? Naraku's voice coiled around her mind, mocking her, taunting her. Not out of obligation, but because he truly wants you? A dark laugh followed, cold and cruel. We both know that will never happen. Not even Inuyasha wanted you, so why would Sesshoumaru? You're just a means to an end, my dear priestess.
Her breath hitched, and she yanked her chin away from Sesshoumaru's grasp, turning her head to the side as if the motion could shake off the sickening voice in her mind. She squeezed the jewel shard in her hand, the sharp edges digging into her palm, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
Sesshoumaru's gaze lingered on her, his brows knitting together in the slightest display of concern. "You are in need of another treatment."
The words sent a surge of panic through Kagome's body. She had been relying on her medication, her last desperate attempt to push Naraku out of her thoughts, to block him from invading her mind. For a time, it worked—perhaps a day at most—before the spider would crawl his way back, insidious and relentless.
If what Naraku had said was true, that Sesshoumaru's power breaking through the barriers blocking her reiki, had also awakened the evil half-demon, creating a path for him to infiltrate her mind—then another treatment could be disastrous. It could open the door wider, allowing Naraku to take further control.
No, she couldn't risk it.
Kagome's hands trembled, her breath uneven as she tried to think of something—anything—to delay the inevitable. "We can't," she signed. "Not with the children around."
It was a flimsy excuse. They had found ways to manage before, but she needed to buy herself time, to keep Sesshoumaru from insisting. Yet even as she spoke, the sickening voice coiled in her mind, dark and mocking.
Such a shame, little priestess. I was enjoying the sweet sounds you made while letting the demon lord have his way with your body.
She turned away before he could say another word, before the conversation could continue down a path she wasn't prepared for. Panic propelled her back, her feet carrying her away from him.
Sesshoumaru stood rooted to the spot, watching her retreat with narrowed eyes. Something was wrong—deeply wrong—and Kagome's behavior only confirmed it. He had sensed her unease, her distraction, but she had been evasive for days now. He would not allow this to continue. The priestess was hiding something, and whatever it was, it was affecting her far more than she was willing to admit.
Run all you like, little bird, Naraku's voice slithered through her mind again as she darted into the forest, a dark amusement lacing his tone. But you can't escape me. Not anymore, not ever.