Chapter 22

Naraku stood by the window, staring out at the darkened city below, the glow of streetlights faintly illuminating the sprawling landscape. The weight of the phone call had lingered, gnawing at him. Kagome's voice still echoed in his mind, her quiet persistence, her concern. He could feel the tension in the air, the subtle flicker of anxiety she was trying to suppress.

But there was no time for that. Not now.

His thoughts were consumed by the shipments, or rather, the mess that was currently unfolding. The freights had been compromised—perhaps intentionally—and the ramifications were far-reaching. Higurashi Pharmaceuticals was his pride, his life's work. To see it vulnerable like this… it was more than an inconvenience; it was a threat to everything he had built.

He exhaled sharply, clenching his fists, his mind quickly evaluating the situation. A part of him hated the need to keep things from Kagome. She was sharp, and she would have pressed him, demanded answers, but he couldn't afford that right now. She was already stressed with her own matters. The last thing she needed was to be tangled in the web of whatever was happening behind the scenes.

But he couldn't ignore it. Someone had gotten to the freights. His contacts in logistics had reported suspicious movements—containers being rerouted, inventory disappearing without explanation, and worst of all, no clear pattern that could be tracked. It was a chaotic situation, one that screamed sabotage.

Naraku's mind raced with possibilities: Was it an inside job? Someone within the company or a rival trying to destabilize them? Or was it an orchestrated attack from a third-party trying to hit them where it hurt the most—at the very heart of their operations?

His jaw tightened. There were people he trusted who would never betray him, but the treacherous ones? They were the ones who could ruin everything in an instant. And if that was the case, it would take everything he had to ensure the damage was contained.

He couldn't afford to let this reach Kagome. Not yet. She would only worry, and he didn't want to distract her from the path she was on. She was already carrying the weight of so many responsibilities, and this—whatever "this" was—was a battle he needed to handle alone for the time being. It was his duty to shield his family from the ugly side of their family business.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiraling.

His fingers brushed over the edge of the desk in front of him, the cool surface grounding him momentarily as his thoughts turned to the greater implications. Whoever was behind this wouldn't stop with a simple shipment problem. It was a warning. A challenge. A way to unsettle him, to provoke him into making a mistake.

He wasn't going to give them that satisfaction.

With a final glance at the phone in his hand, Naraku made a decision. He would take matters into his own hands, investigate the shipments himself, track down the source of the disruption. His mind flashed to a small group of trusted operatives, individuals whose loyalty he had tested over the years. It was time to call in those favors.

But he couldn't let Kagome get involved—not yet. She would find out, eventually, but for now, he would keep her in the dark. It was his burden to bear, and he would carry it alone. After all, that was what fathers did, wasn't it? Protect their children from the dangers lurking in the shadows.

His fingers dialed another number, his expression hardening as he braced himself for what was to come.

As the sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of a stately house. The atmosphere inside remained heavy with unspoken tension. The weight of earlier events still lingered between the three males.

Sesshoumaru sat in silence, his piercing golden gaze fixed ahead, unreadable as ever. Across from him, Miroku exhaled a slow breath and leaned back against the seat, rubbing his temples. Meanwhile, Kohaku remained focused on his laptop, frustration evident in the deep furrow of his brows as he stared at Kagome's call log.

They were trying to find out quickly who this man was; besides there was hours and hours of footage and locations in the hospital that would take a far longer time for Kohaku to figure out exactly when the confrontation occurred.

"I don't get it," Kohaku muttered, his fingers drumming against the keyboard. "Tracing calls should be easy, especially with the kind of tech I have access to. But this one—" He sighed, shaking his head. "It came from a public phone."

Miroku frowned. "A public phone? What kind of psychopath goes out of their way to use one of those? What's next, a carrier pigeon?"

"That's the problem," Kohaku said, gripping his laptop a little tighter. "Whoever this is, they wanted to stay untraceable...it makes no-sense if they know Kagome. I can try to pinpoint the location and check security footage, but the hospital's surveillance videos should be more than enough."

Sesshoumaru, silent until now, finally spoke, his voice smooth and deliberate. "The voice is familiar."

Miroku's brows lifted. "Familiar how? From what we know it's a work colleague, but how can you recognize this voice? An old colleague of ours? Someone from high school who still hasn't let go of the 'glory days'?"

Sesshoumaru remained unfazed. "I have heard it before… but I cannot place it." His golden eyes narrowed slightly. "He spoke to her almost casually…"

Kohaku snorted. "He can't be a friend, either."

Sesshoumaru arched a brow. "And why is that?"

Kohaku didn't even look up. "Because Kagome doesn't have friends."

Miroku let out a choked laugh. "Wow. That was… harsh."

Kohaku shrugged. "It's just facts. Her only friend is my sister."

Sesshoumaru processed this for a moment. "Acquaintance?"

Kohaku nodded. "Most likely."

Miroku grinned mischeviously, unable to help himself from wanting a reaction out of his cousin. "Or a secret admirer."

Sesshoumaru's expression darkened instantly.

Kohaku sighed, muttering under his breath, "Great, now we have two mysteries: who called Kagome, and who's going to break it to this poor bastard that he's about to have a very bad day."

Miroku chuckled. "Better him than us."

Kohaku yawned, clearly over the whole situation for the night. "I'm done for today. Tomorrow, I'll go through the hospital footage. That'll be fun," he added sarcastically, already half-zoning out. "Goodnight, gentlemen. Enjoy your suspense."

With that Kohaku stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Miroku turned to Sesshoumaru, eyes twinkling. "I never expected your love story with The Miss Kagome Higurashi to be so action-packed."

Sesshoumaru, without missing a beat, smacked Miroku upside the head.

Miroku grinned, rubbing the back of his head. "Ouch, was that necessary?"

Sesshoumaru's cold, unamused stare was the only reply, but it was enough. Miroku let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to clutch his chest. "Well, I'll just have to suffer in silence, won't I?"

Sesshoumaru just shook his head, a rare, almost imperceptible glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Keep talking, and you'll find yourself on the receiving end of another 'action-packed' moment."

Miroku raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that how it's going to be? Should I be worried? Because you know, I was just getting into this whole 'action-packed romance' thing."

Sesshoumaru's lips twitched, and for a brief second, it almost looked like he was trying to suppress a smile.

"Go to sleep, Miroku."

Miroku threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you to your brooding. But don't forget—this is your love story. I'm just here for the popcorn."

Sesshoumaru said nothing, but the weight of his unspoken thoughts lingered, and Miroku finally retreated to his own thoughts as well.

Kagome arrived home in the early morning, her phone screen reading 4:03 AM. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders, but beneath it burned something stronger—determination. The world outside remained cloaked in darkness, the hum of Tokyo's nightlife having faded into the stillness of pre-dawn.

Moving through the dimly lit halls, she kept her steps light, careful not to wake anyone. Her mind raced even as her body screamed for rest.

Once inside her room, she set down her phone and bag before slipping outside, drawn to the quiet sanctuary of the backyard. The koi pond shimmered under the soft glow of the garden lights, gentle ripples in the water mirroring the storm inside her.

Lowering herself to the edge, she exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed on the fish gliding lazily beneath the surface. The hospital. The board's cold indifference. Sango's barely restrained fury. The night's events replayed relentlessly, surreal—like a nightmare she couldn't wake from.

Her fingers curled into fists. The absolute nerve. A bitter taste coated her tongue at the thought of Hojo's reckless behavior.

She felt like a child again—small, vulnerable, powerless.

She hated it.

She thought she had buried that feeling long ago, but now, sitting alone in the quiet hush of early morning, it crept back in. The loneliness. The quiet ache of being an outsider.

She still remembered her first year at the elite private school, where Japan's wealthiest children walked the halls with effortless confidence. From the moment she arrived, she had stood out—not because she wanted to, but because she didn't belong. She didn't wear the right designer brands, didn't vacation in Europe, didn't have family ties to powerful CEOs and politicians.

And the other students had made sure she never forgot it.

The whispers. The cold glances. The mocking laughter behind manicured hands. The way her words were dismissed in class discussions, how she became an afterthought in group projects.

She learned quickly—weakness had no place in that world.

So, she buried herself in her studies. Poured everything into proving she was more than just a middle-class girl playing pretend in high society. She rose to the top of her class, outperformed students who had every advantage she never did.

And then there was Sango.

Sango, who had stormed into her life like a force of nature—loud, brash, and utterly indifferent to the rigid social order ruling their school. Sango, who came from an affluent family but never let it define her. Who refused to fall in line, who fought back when others whispered behind Kagome's back.

They met after a particularly brutal lunch period, when Kagome had been left sitting alone, pretending not to hear the laughter aimed in her direction.

Then, Sango had dropped into the seat across from her, dumped a pile of junk food onto the table, and declared, "You look miserable. Want to split this?"

That was it. No forced pleasantries, no careful etiquette. Just a girl who didn't care about Kagome's background, who didn't care about fitting in.

Sango had dragged her into a friendship Kagome hadn't even realized she desperately needed. She taught Kagome how to fight back, how to roll her eyes at cruel whispers instead of shrinking away from them. She made her laugh when all she wanted to do was disappear.

And yet, despite everything—the late nights, the sacrifices, the relentless drive that had pushed her to this point—people like Hojo still refused to see it. They dismissed her years of hard work, her earned place, and focused instead on superficialities like wealth and status. To them, it was as if everything had come effortlessly. When in reality, every step had been a battle.

Her fingers brushed absentmindedly over the bandage on her head, the dull ache beneath it a reminder of Sesshoumaru.

The reflection in the water startled her. Cheeks flushed pink. Heart thudding rapidly.

She had braced herself for him to be like the others—arrogant, pompous, smug. But Sesshoumaru… he was different.

She thought back to the warmth of his jacket at the park, the quiet press of his fingers as he untangled her bracelet from his sleeve, the steady intensity in his gaze at the hospital. Despite the coldness she had first sensed in him, there was a depth, a warmth that had slowly revealed itself.

His way of speaking—so blunt, yet strangely charming, making her laugh when she least expected it. The way he noticed things others didn't—the faint tension in her voice when she mentioned the report and the weariness that clung to her like a shadow. Even after that phone call; he had ensured she got to work safely, leaving his number on her phone. He seemed to see it all, in ways that left her feeling seen.

And when he had applied pressure to her wound, being stuck in the elevator.

He was… sweet.

The word felt almost ridiculous, too small to hold the weight of what she was feeling. And yet, as she whispered it to herself, there was no denying the truth in it.

Something warm curled in her chest, something dangerous.

And for reasons she didn't fully understand yet, she vowed to herself that she would keep him out of this mess. If Hojo even dared to drag Sesshoumaru into it—there would be hell to pay.

She had taken a vow to save lives, to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. And though he was not her patient, Sesshoumaru was important. Every life was precious, and him...his was one she couldn't bear to see placed in harm's way. If she had to stand between him and danger, she would—without hesitation.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts.

Sango.

As he sat on his bed, Sesshoumaru's mind drifted back to Kagome.

Sesshoumaru exhaled softly, letting the thought linger in the air. He couldn't deny that he had started to look forward to their interactions, to hearing her voice, to seeing the glimmer of determination in her eyes.

She had always been a force in her own right—independent, intelligent and fierce. But last night, something about her had shifted. The way she had softened, her vulnerability exposed in that small, fragile moment of trust… It tugged at something deep inside of him.

His thoughts drifted to her words—"I must've wasted so much of your time." He remembered how she had said it, almost like an apology, but there had been no need for one. He had chosen to be there, just as he had chosen to stay when the call had come through, when those threats had been nothing more than noise to him. No, he hadn't wasted his time. He would never consider it such. Not for her.

But the weight of her stubbornness weighed on him, how much he wanted to help her and she wouldn't let him. Sesshoumaru exhaled softly, his fingers curling into his pillow.

She was unlike anyone he had ever encountered, yet in some inexplicable way, she mirrored parts of himself—complimentary, as if they were two halves of a whole. It was magnetic, undeniable.

It was something deeper, something that caught him off guard every time she entered his thoughts. He had always prided himself on being in control, on being the one to call the shots, but with her, he felt… uncertain. But it wasn't fear. It was an overwhelming need to protect, to care for her in ways that were far beyond logic.

After all, Sesshoumaru had always prided himself on keeping his distance, never interfering in the affairs of others. He could have easily avoided the café. And despite his best intentions to remain uninvolved, there was something about her that made him want to stay.

"Why does it feel so different with you?" he murmured to the quiet room, as if Kagome could hear him through the distance. But she couldn't, and yet the question remained unanswered in his mind.

Sleep pulled him under, but her image stayed with him.

Inuyasha walked into school the next day, still riding the high of his team's victory. He'd kept it low-key after the game, but he could feel the eyes of his friends on him as soon as he spotted Sota and Koga by the lockers. Their usual banter had been replaced by an awkward, stunned silence.

Raising an eyebrow, Inuyasha broke the tension. "What's with the creepy stares, guys?"

Sota blinked, his mouth hanging open. "Dude... your mom."

Koga slowly nodded, as if he were trying to process some deep cosmic revelation. "Your mom knows you play soccer?"

Inuyasha froze mid-step, cursing under his breath. "What, are you two still stuck on that? It's not a big deal."

Sota shot Koga a glance, then turned back to Inuyasha. "A big deal? Dude, your dad hates that you play soccer!"

Koga added, "Yeah, we thought we'd have to keep this whole soccer thing on the down low. But now your mom is showing up to your games? Like, actually cheering you on?"

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, trying to shrug it off. "Yeah, so what? She's my mom. You guys act like she's some corporate overlord who wouldn't know a soccer ball from a... I don't know... a paperweight."

Sota raised a finger as though he had a grand point to make. "But, dude, it's your mom! We never even knew you had a mom who'd care enough to show up at your games!"

Koga, still in disbelief, added, "I thought she was one of those high-powered businesswomen who only existed in boardrooms and wore power suits all day. But no, she's actually there at your game, cheering for you?"

Inuyasha grumbled. "She's not a robot, okay? And yeah, she's a lawyer, but that's more of a side hobby. And of course she cares. She's my mom. She even packs me snacks."

Sota and Koga exchanged a glance, then burst into laughter in unison. "Snacks?!" Sota practically choked on the word. "Your mom packs you snacks? And you never told us?!"

Inuyasha winced, his face turning red. "Damn it, don't make it sound like I'm a little kid with a lunchbox."

Koga was still laughing, hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, this is gold! The 'tough guy' who acts like he's too cool for everything... but his mom's over there packing him snacks and cheering like it's the best thing ever."

Inuyasha's face burned even more, but he couldn't fight the smile that tugged at his lips. "I don't need you two spreading rumors about my mom, alright? I've already got enough embarrassing things to deal with. Like—"

Sota cut him off. "Wait, wait—how did this even happen? Your dad is one thing, but your mom?!"

Koga slapped Sota's back in exaggerated disbelief. "Yeah, man. This is next-level crazy."

Inuyasha groaned, realizing there was no escaping it. "Alright, alright! But you guys can't go around telling everyone. I don't need the entire school knowing that my mom actually gives a damn about my soccer career."

Kanna carefully smoothed out the edges of her bedspread, her small hands gently adjusting the pillows on the bed. Each movement was deliberate, as though she were preparing for something important, even though the task seemed simple. She took a step back and observed the room with quiet satisfaction, ensuring everything was just right for Shippo and Rin's arrival.

She placed a small basket of colorful crayons on the floor near the chair, her soft eyes taking in the scene. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the crayon box, tray of snacks and toys, then smiled softly to herself. It felt like the beginning of something special, something she could finally be a part of.

A small flutter of nerves ran through her, but she quickly pushed it away. She liked this—helping, contributing, being part of something bigger than herself. She wasn't quite sure what the "mystery" would be, but the excitement was enough to make her feel more alive than usual. She finally had friends.

She adjusted a picture frame on her desk, a small portrait of her family, making sure it was facing the door. She wanted everything to feel perfect.

After a moment of stillness, Kanna heard a soft knock on the door. Her eyes widened a little, and a soft smile crept onto her face. "Come in," she said. The anticipation she felt was almost overwhelming, but she did her best to hide it, knowing this would be the first step toward her own little adventure.

Hojo's grip tightens around his phone as his boss's voice cuts through the line, icy and demanding.

"You are lucky you have a week," the voice sneers. "The Higurashi woman has a clean track record. Figure something out and get her out of the way; social humiliation typically does the trick."

Hojo clenches his jaw, his mind racing. This wasn't supposed to be how it played out. He had expected more time, more control over the situation. But Kagome's pristine record was a complication he hadn't anticipated. If he couldn't undermine her credibility, he'd have to find another way.

"I'm aware," Hojo mutters, voice low, trying to suppress the panic rising within him. "But...there's nothing to use against her."

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening, then the boss's voice returns, cold and calculating.

"Then make something. And if you fail—there will be consequences."

Hojo swallowed hard, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. His mind is a whirlwind of strategies, trying to grasp at any shred of hope, any angle he can exploit. He had been working in the shadows for so long, pulling strings, doing dirty work for people who didn't care about the cost. But Kagome… she was a different problem. A mess he couldn't clean up as easily as he had hoped.

"Understood," Hojo says, his voice tight, barely containing his frustration. "I'll... I'll handle it."

The line clicks dead, and Hojo stares at the phone in his hand, a cold sweat dripping down his back.

The clock was ticking. And one way or another, he would find a way to deal with Kagome. But this time, he knew, it wouldn't be as simple as taking her down. He needed to get creative. He needed leverage.

Thank you for reading :)

Since Valentine's day will be soon -should I have a special chapter for our main couple?

Maybe...maybe not.

Have a great week ahead guys!

Toast32