Chapter 20

Sesshoumaru barely spared the speakers another glance, his focus entirely on Kagome in his arms. He adjusted his grip slightly, cradling her with practiced ease as his fingers brushed against the damp warmth near her temple. Blood.

His jaw tightened.

The elevator gave another unsettling jolt, reminding him that they were still trapped. The music swelled again, another dramatic crescendo of violins that was laughably out of place given the circumstances.

Sesshoumaru exhaled slowly, schooling his expression into calm as he shifted Kagome's weight in his arms, lowering her slightly so he could check the wound. His fingers brushed gently over her temple, his usually cool touch careful, precise. The skin there was already beginning to swell, a shallow cut just beneath her hairline seeping crimson.

"You will be okay," he murmured under his breath.

Carefully, he pressed the sleeve of his jacket against the wound, applying light pressure to stop the bleeding. Kagome stirred slightly at the sensation, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she shifted in his arms.

Sesshoumaru stilled, watching as her eyelashes fluttered but did not quite open. She was still out of it.

His jaw clenched again. He was not accustomed to feeling helpless, yet here he was—stuck in an elevator, holding his bleeding, unconscious woman while an obnoxious love ballad played overhead.

Ridiculous.

With one arm still supporting Kagome, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly dialing. The line clicked.

"This is Taisho. The elevator is malfunctioning." His voice was sharp, controlled. "And send a medic to my office. Now."

A garbled, panicked response came from the other end, but he hung up before they could finish.

Sesshoumaru shifted again, easing down into a crouch with Kagome still in his arms, carefully settling her against his chest as he adjusted his jacket over her for warmth. His hand ghosted over her cheek, brushing away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

His grip on her tightened slightly, his fingers brushing against the warmth of her skin.

Sesshoumaru inhaled slowly, looking down at her peaceful face, why was it always him who found her in these moments?

Sesshoumaru exhaled slowly, his free hand brushing against her hair once more, the smallest touch of possessiveness in the action.

Meanwhile, back in the security room, Miroku was pacing.

Kohaku, still connected via FaceTime, had his laptop open, fingers flying over the keys. "Alright, alright, I'm working on it!" he muttered. "You're the one who wanted to hack the system in the first place—why do I have to fix it?"

Miroku stopped mid-step and turned toward the screen, looking vaguely insulted. "Excuse me, but someone needed to set the perfect romantic ambiance. A little alone time—how was I supposed to know she'd faint?!"

The security guard, who had been silently watching this entire ordeal unfold, let out a low whistle. "Man, you guys really suck at playing Cupid."

Miroku shot him a withering look before waving him off. "Irrelevant. Kohaku, please tell me you can fix this before Sesshoumaru puts two and two together and comes after me... the music is making it obvious now."

Kohaku groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Look, you were the one who insisted on stopping the elevator for 'dramatic tension.' Now the system is—oh, wait, that's not good."

Miroku froze. "What do you mean, 'that's not good'? Define 'not good' in a way that doesn't end with my untimely demise."

Kohaku frowned, squinting at the screen. "Uhhh… So, you know how I was just supposed to temporarily disable the elevator?"

Miroku's stomach dropped. "Yes…"

Kohaku winced. "I may have… accidentally triggered an emergency lockdown protocol."

Miroku blinked. "You what?"

Kohaku's voice rose an octave. "Hey! This system is ancient! Who designed this?! One wrong line of code, and now the elevator thinks there's a—oh… okay, yeah, that's a full lockdown. Yep, I definitely did that."

The security guard let out a sharp laugh. "You locked Sesshoumaru and Mr. Higurashi's daughter who is unconscious, in a malfunctioning elevator? Oh, you two are dead."

Miroku groaned dramatically, rubbing his temples. "Kohaku… Tell me you can fix this."

Kohaku bit his lip, typing furiously. "Okay, okay, I think I can override it, but if I mess up again, the system might think there's a fire and trigger the sprinklers."

Miroku's eye twitched. "…That's it. If I die, this was all your idea."

Kohaku scowled. "Liar! This was your idea!"

"Semantics!" Miroku waved a hand. "Just fix it before Sesshoumaru finds out!"

The security guard leaned back, arms crossed, shaking his head.

Sesshoumaru exhaled slowly, adjusting his hold on Kagome as he pressed the emergency button for what felt like the tenth time. Nothing.

His sharp golden eyes flicked to her unconscious face. She was still out cold, her head resting against his chest, her long lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. His gaze lingered there for a moment before trailing down to where his hand rested on her back, feeling the warmth of her body against his.

This was not how he had envisioned being close to her.

He had been drawn to her from the first moment he saw her. It had been outside the little café she frequented, the one near the hospital. She was crouched beside a trembling child, gently inspecting an injury on their knee. Her voice was soft, reassuring, as she wiped away their tears and offered quiet words of comfort.

Then, his attention shifted to the man looming over her and the child, his tone sharp, his grip too tight. Sesshoumaru recognized the anger in the man's posture, the barely restrained aggression in his movements. But before he could step in, she already had.

She rose to her full height, and for the first time, he truly noticed her. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow around her, highlighting the delicate yet determined set of her features. Her dark hair shimmered with hints of blue, caught in the fading light, as she turned to face the man with unwavering resolve.

The quiet kindness he had seen just moments before was now steel—unshaken, unafraid. Her voice, though calm, carried authority as she made it clear that the abuse wouldn't be ignored. When she pulled out her phone and dialed the authorities, she didn't flinch at the man's fury.

She didn't need saving. She was the one who saved others.

And in that moment, Sesshoumaru found himself unable to look away. There was something arresting about her—not just her beauty, but the strength behind it, the fire in her eyes that refused to be dimmed.

For someone like him, who never entertained distractions, it had been… startling.

So, he had decided, with the most absurd reasoning he had ever allowed himself, that he would just happen to be there at the same time. That if their paths crossed naturally, then perhaps it was simply inevitable.

But Kagome was always moving—rushing to the hospital, rushing to meetings, always in a rush-that even when she bumped into him several times before the café she barely noticed. She was never still.

And it unsettled him.

Because he realized something—he wanted to be the one she could rely on.

His hold on her instinctively tightened as he noticed the slow trickle of blood from the small wound at her hairline. He had never been one for sentimentality, but the sight of her injured stirred something deep and unrelenting inside him.

The elevator suddenly jolted slightly, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Sesshoumaru's jaw clenched. "Finally."

The speakers crackled to life, and Miroku's voice—far too cheery given the circumstances—came through.

"Ah-ha! Sesshoumaru! We are currently working on the issue, and you should be out shortly."

Sesshoumaru's expression darkened.

"Miroku." His voice was low and lethal.

A strangled sound came from the speakers.

Sesshoumaru's patience snapped. "Open. The. Doors."

"Would love to! Truly!" Miroku's voice wavered slightly. "Tiny problem. We might have—uh—accidentally triggered an emergency lockdown, but no worries!

Sesshoumaru exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound alone enough to send a shiver down Miroku's spine.

Kagome stirred slightly in his arms, her brow furrowing as she let out a soft sound, shifting closer to him.

Sesshoumaru froze.

Then, something in his gaze softened.

This was fine. She was safe in his arms. That was all that mattered.

With a final clunk and an agonizingly slow ding!, the elevator doors finally slid open.

Sesshoumaru stepped out immediately, Kagome still unconscious in his arms, his expression unreadable but his golden eyes flashing with something dangerously close to murderous intent.

Outside, Miroku and the security guard stood waiting.

Miroku, ever the picture of innocence, beamed. "Ah! Success! See? I told you it would work."

The security guard, who had been watching the whole mess unfold, slowly turned to stare at Miroku. "Dude. You didn't do anything. I was the one frantically pushing buttons and calling maintenance while you stood there narrating everything like a romance drama."

Miroku waved him off. "Details." Then he turned back to Sesshoumaru, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sooo… how was the ride?"

Sesshoumaru didn't answer. He simply stared at him.

Miroku felt an icy chill crawl down his spine.

The security guard muttered, "I told you he was scary."

Miroku swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. "Uh, I see you're still holding her."

Sesshoumaru shifted his hold slightly, his fingers brushing against the side of Kagome's face. "She is injured." His voice was clipped, his patience clearly hanging by a thread.

The security guard nodded slowly. "Yeah, I mean, that's fair."

Miroku, however, couldn't help but grin. "Injured and in your arms. Quite the scene. Very dramatic. Almost… fated, don't you think?"

Sesshoumaru's glare could have frozen fire.

Miroku took a wise step back. "Right, right. Not the time."

Sesshoumaru turned on his heel and strode down the hallway, carrying Kagome with effortless ease.

Miroku and the security guard watched him go.

After a long silence, the security guard let out a low whistle. "Man, that guy is gone."

Miroku sighed wistfully. "I know. It's beautiful."

The security guard gave him a flat look. "You do realize he's probably going to kill you, right?"

Miroku shrugged. "Worth it."

As Sesshoumaru walked down the hallway, his grip on Kagome never wavered, his focus entirely on her, despite the chaos unfolding behind him. He could feel the weight of the tension in his shoulders, a tightness he hadn't realized was there until now. His golden eyes flickered briefly to her face as he adjusted her slightly in his arms. She was pale, the bloodstain on her temple still fresh, but he could see the subtle rise and fall of her chest. At least she was still breathing.

When he arrived at his office, the door slid open with a soft hum, and the medic was already waiting, clipboard in hand, ready to spring into action. The medic's eyes widened at the sight of Kagome in his arms, her unconscious form sending a silent message of urgency.

"Put her down, please," the medic instructed, his voice urgent but calm. Sesshoumaru hesitated for just a fraction of a second, then gently placed Kagome on the couch by the large window, making sure her head rested comfortably. His hands lingered just a moment longer on her shoulder, as though reluctant to release her, but then he stepped back, his attention sharp and unwavering.

The medic moved quickly, checking Kagome's vital signs, his fingers expertly brushing over her temple, assessing the wound. "It's not deep, but we need to clean it and stop the bleeding. She'll need fluids. I'll get an IV in her right away."

Sesshoumaru's gaze never left Kagome's face, his jaw still tight. His mind was racing, replaying every moment from the elevator ride. The blood. Her unconscious form. None of it seemed real, yet here she was, in front of him, still so fragile.

"I'll stay with her," Sesshoumaru said quietly, his voice steady. He didn't ask, didn't wait for the medic's approval. It was a simple statement. His presence was necessary, and for some inexplicable reason, he was unwilling to leave her side.

The medic didn't protest, though he seemed to sense the unspoken command in Sesshoumaru's voice. "I'll prepare the IV. It'll take a few minutes."

Sesshoumaru stood by the window, his back to the room, though his eyes flicked frequently to Kagome, watching her as she remained still, her breathing soft but steady. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his chest loosen just slightly.

Meanwhile, Miroku was still reeling from the encounter in the hallway. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself despite the pressure of the situation. "Well, that went about as well as expected," he muttered to the security guard, who was now watching the screen in the security room with an intense look of amusement.

"You're really lucky he's not killing you yet," the guard replied dryly. "But seriously, you've made this way more complicated than it had to be."

"Complicated?" Miroku smirked. "You don't think it was dramatic enough? A little tension, a little danger, and—" He cut off when the guard shot him a pointed look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Miroku said with a sigh. "But hey, the guy is clearly smitten. He just needs to come to terms with it."

The guard rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure he's already come to terms with it. You just better hope Higurashi's daughter is okay. If she's not, you might end up on his bad side, as well as Sesshoumaru's."

Back in the office, the medic was finishing up the IV, and Kagome was slowly beginning to stir. She blinked a few times, her vision hazy as she looked around. Her eyes found Sesshoumaru's, and her lips parted in a small, exhausted smile.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and groggy. "I didn't… mean to cause trouble."

Sesshoumaru's lips twitched ever so slightly, his voice softer than he meant it to be. "It's not your fault," he murmured.

Kagome's brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and realization clouding her features. "The hospital…Sango…" her hands instinctively reached for her cellphone, but as she moved, a sharp pain surged through her head. She staggered, dropping the phone onto the table, her fingers pressing against her temple as she winced, feeling the bandage against her skin. "Why... why am I bandaged?" she asked, her voice strained, struggling to make sense of it all.

Sesshoumaru's tone was reassuring yet firm. "It's nothing to worry about. For now, you simply need to rest."

Kagome's eyes drifted guiltily to the IV in her arm, then back to him. "I don't know how to thank you. You really did not have to."

Sesshoumaru didn't reply immediately. Instead, he brushed her hair back from her face again, his fingers lingering longer than necessary, the action strangely comforting for both of them. "Rest now," he finally said, his voice calm but firm. "We'll talk later."

Kagome nodded, her eyelids fluttering as the effects of the medication began to settle in, pulling her back into the quiet warmth of sleep.

Sesshoumaru stood by her side for a while longer, watching her, his thoughts quiet but filled with an intensity that mirrored the way he held her. The last thing he expected was for his own heart to betray him in this moment, but it was undeniable: something had shifted.

Kagome's cellphone's shrill ring shattered the quiet of the room. Sesshoumaru's gaze never left her resting form as he picked it up with a steady, almost mechanical motion. He brought the phone to his ear, his expression unreadable.

"Kagome," the voice on the other end hissed. "You think you're clever, don't you? Submitting that report against me, trying to ruin everything I've built. You'll regret this. Retract it, or I'll make sure your life falls apart."

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed, a surge of irritation creeping beneath his calm façade. The voice was familiar, its venomous tone stirred something vaguely recognizable, something he couldn't quite place.

"I believe you have the wrong number," Sesshoumaru replied coldly, his voice smooth but laced with quiet menace. The words were precise, as if cutting through the air with a razor edge.

There was a brief pause, and then the voice on the other end snapped back, more aggressive now. "Who the hell is this? I'm trying to reach Kagome, not some random—"

The lack of self-introduction caught Sesshoumaru's attention. His fingers curled tighter around the phone as suspicion flared. "You're threatening her," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Explain yourself."

The voice flared with frustration. "Just tell Kagome to fix this, or I'll make her pay. She's got no idea who she's messing with."

Sesshoumaru's gaze darkened, a quiet storm brewing behind his composed demeanor. His voice was low, but the weight of his words was undeniable, carrying a chilling finality.

"Listen carefully," he said, his tone sharp and unwavering. "If you dare threaten her again, I will make sure it's the last mistake you ever make. I don't tolerate weakness or cowardice, and I will personally ensure you disappear before you even realize what's coming."

His grip tightened around the phone, his every word dripping with icy intent. "Stay away from Kagome. The consequences will be far worse than you can imagine if you don't."

Before the man could utter another word, Sesshoumaru ended the call with a precise, decisive motion. His eyes fixed on Kagome, a surge of protectiveness flaring within him. Whoever this man was, the one she had reported... he would find him.

He had made up his mind—he would help her, whether she accepted it or not.

Hojo's fingers drummed against the steering wheel, his thoughts spiraling with the chaos that had suddenly engulfed him. The phone call had thrown him off balance, but something deeper gnawed at him—an undercurrent of tension he had been trying to ignore. He had been too careful, too meticulous in hiding his tracks, but there was a problem, one he couldn't escape from: someone had been pulling the strings behind the scenes, paying him to keep prescribing the dangerous medications to unsuspecting patients.

The realization hit him like a cold wave. It was all part of a larger scheme—one that could ruin everything if it was exposed. He had been careful, accepting the money without asking too many questions, thinking it was just another way to pad his pockets. But now the weight of his involvement felt like a noose tightening around his neck.

The thought of the person—or people—behind the payments made his stomach turn. They were the ones keeping him in this dangerous game, and Hojo's role was that of a mere pawn. He had no idea who they were, but they had their claws deep in the medical world, pulling strings and ensuring he kept his silence and kept prescribing those medications. The consequences of his failure were far worse than he'd ever imagined.

He'd been taking their money for months, but now, with the pressure mounting, he could no longer afford to be passive. The pieces of his life were falling apart, and it was no longer just about Kagome. She was a distraction, a complication. The real threat now was the unknown entity manipulating him from the shadows.

As he drove to his next destination, Hojo's thoughts were a whirlwind of plans. He needed to find a way out of this mess—before it swallowed him whole. The nurse who had been part of the transaction and had helped him find out about the report would be of little help now, and the people behind the prescriptions were ruthless. If he didn't act fast, he would be the one left paying the price.

One thing was clear: he could no longer trust anyone, not even the people who had paid him to keep the scam going. If he wanted to save himself, he would have to play his cards very carefully from now on. And that meant eliminating any loose ends—and Kagome was at the top of that list.

Inuyasha stood on the edge of the field, feeling the rush of excitement as the small soccer tournament kicked off. It was a regional event, but to him, it felt like the biggest stage in the world. The crowd wasn't huge, but the energy from the few fans and families made his heart race.

He glanced at the other members of his team, including Sota, who was sitting on the bench with a worried expression. "You ready?" Inuyasha asked, his voice a mix of excitement and nerves.

Sota gave a hesitant nod, not looking as confident. "Yeah, but...are you sure they won't find out? I mean, your parents—"

Inuyasha waved off his concern, adjusting his jersey as he looked out over the field. "Relax. It'll be fine. They won't notice a thing."

Koga, called out from the field, "Quit talking and let's play!" He was already warming up, stretching out his legs, ready to get the game started.

Inuyasha smirked and gave Sota a quick thumbs-up before heading to the field. It was time.

The whistle blew, and the match began. Inuyasha felt the familiar jolt of adrenaline as he sprinted across the grass, his eyes scanning the field. The ball was passed to him, and he expertly dribbled it down the line, dodging opposing players with speed and agility. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Inuyasha passed the ball to a teammate, then made a quick dash toward the goal. The pass came back to him, and with a powerful kick, he sent the ball soaring into the net. The crowd, though small, cheered as Inuyasha's team scored the first goal.

He grinned, adrenaline coursing through him as he high-fived his teammates. The match wasn't over yet.

At halftime, Inuyasha jogged off the field, his muscles sore but his spirits high. He caught Sota's eye, and Sota gave him a thumbs-up.

"You're killing it out there," Sota said, sounding genuinely impressed.

Inuyasha wiped sweat from his brow, a grin tugging at his lips. "Just getting started."

When the second half began, Inuyasha's determination only grew. This game was his chance to show what he could do, even if no one knew the real reason he was here. The ball was passed to him again, and with a quick flick of his foot, he scored another goal, securing the win for his team.

As the final whistle blew, Inuyasha couldn't help but smile. He had done it. His team had won, and he had proven to himself—no matter the size of the tournament—that he was capable of making it, no matter what.

The three friends were riding high on adrenaline. The post-game celebration was filled with high-fives, laughter, and a sense of accomplishment. As they walked off the field, they started to discuss their plans for the evening.

Sota nudged Inuyasha with a grin. "So, what's the plan, huh? You're not gonna leave us hanging after that epic win, are you?"

Inuyasha wiped the sweat from his brow and shrugged, a grin on his face. "Well, I was thinking we could grab some food. You know, to celebrate. Maybe a little victory feast."

Koga, already bouncing with excitement, chimed in. "I'm down for that! As long as it's not sushi. I've had enough of that stuff for a lifetime." He made a dramatic face, clearly pretending to gag. "I'm thinking burgers. Lots of them. And fries. Don't forget the fries."

Inuyasha chuckled. "Of course, the fries. I know you can't resist them." He glanced over at Sota. "What about you, little bro? You good with burgers?"

Koga clapped his hands. "Alright, now we're talking. I'll take the biggest one they've got. And extra bacon."

"Extra bacon? Dude, you're gonna make yourself sick," Sota said, shaking his head.

Koga shrugged. "Worth it. Besides, it's victory bacon."

Inuyasha chuckled at their back-and-forth banter. It was moments like this, with his friends, that made him feel like everything was falling into place. Even if his family didn't know what he was really after, he had people who understood him.

"So, we're all in for the burger celebration, right?" Inuyasha asked, grinning. "No turning back now."

Sota and Koga both gave him a thumbs-up, and the three of them began to head toward their favorite diner, laughing and joking the whole way.

Inuyasha walked through the front door later that evening, his clothes slightly disheveled from the tournament, his expression a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. He barely had a chance to kick off his shoes before he heard his mother's voice calling from the living room.

"Inuyasha, we need to talk."

His stomach dropped. He'd barely been home an hour, and he was already in trouble. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it would be better to just run for it, but he knew that wasn't an option. With a resigned sigh, he walked into the living room, his shoulders slumped.

Inukimi was sitting on the couch, looking serene as always, though there was a glint in her eyes. In front of her, neatly stacked on the coffee table, was a pile of papers—soccer league applications. Inuyasha's heart skipped a beat.

"So," Inukimi began, her tone casual, "about these..."

Inuyasha froze, not knowing what to say. "Uh... Mom, I—"

"You've been keeping these from me," Inukimi interrupted, holding up the papers with a teasing smile. "And here I thought I raised you to be honest with me."

Inuyasha's brain scrambled for an excuse, but she just waved a hand, cutting him off. "No need to explain. I can tell what they are. I've seen them before." She leaned forward, her gaze softening. "So, what's the deal, Inuyasha? You've been secretly working toward this, huh?"

Inuyasha's mouth went dry. "I... I didn't think you'd understand."

Inukimi tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "Understand? Oh, I understand. I may not know the first thing about soccer, but I know determination when I see it."

His jaw dropped. "Wait, you're... not mad?"

Inukimi's smile softened, and she stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "Mad? Why would I be mad?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Inuyasha, I see how hard you've been working, how much you care about this. I'm proud of you for chasing after your dreams."

Inuyasha blinked in disbelief, still trying to process the situation. "But... Dad's gonna flip when he finds out."

Inukimi sighed, a knowing look crossing her face. "Toga may not understand, but you deserve a chance to follow your passion. And as much as I love him, I'm not going to let him dictate your future. You should have the opportunity to live your own life."

Inuyasha's eyes softened. "You really mean that?"

"Of course," she replied, giving him a gentle smile. "I've always wanted you to do what makes you happy. Soccer, school, whatever path you take... I'll support you."

He stood there for a moment, taking in the weight of her words. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thanks, Mom. I didn't think you'd get it, but... I'm glad you do."

Inukimi's gaze was warm, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Just don't let your father find out about these papers. We both know he's got a thing for tidy desks."

Inuyasha laughed, shaking his head. "I'll be careful. And I'll keep my room in better shape, I promise."

Inukimi chuckled, then gave him a quick, affectionate hug. "Go get some rest. You've earned it. And don't worry—this secret's safe with me."

Naraku paced in the sitting room, his fingers steepled together as he gazed out the large windows, the cool evening air drifting inside. His thoughts were clouded with concern. Kagome had looked so tired this morning, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She had mentioned something about the hospital, but he hadn't pressed her—he knew she valued her independence, perhaps too much.

"Kagura," he finally spoke, his voice heavy with worry, "I'm concerned about Kagome. She looked so exhausted this morning, and she mentioned the hospital. What if something is wrong?"

Kagura, sitting elegantly on the opposite side of the room, glanced up from the book she was reading, her expression thoughtful but calm. She closed the book and placed it aside, meeting Naraku's gaze. "She's always been strong, Naraku. You know that. But I understand your concern."

Naraku let out a breath, his tone quiet yet unwavering. "I don't want her to bear the weight of everything on her own. She's our daughter. She shouldn't have to carry such burdens alone. I want her to turn to me when she's struggling, to reach out for help. You all are all I have. Nothing would make me more content than knowing my family feels they can rely on me."

Kagura let out a soft sigh, her eyes softening as she stood up and walked over to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting touch. "She will, when the time comes," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "You taught her to be strong, Naraku. We both did. Now, it's time for her to learn how to seek help when she needs it, not because she has to, but because she knows it's okay."

Naraku's brow furrowed slightly. "But why wait? Why doesn't she lean on us now, when she's so clearly struggling?"

"Because she's not just a little girl anymore," Kagura responded softly. "She's growing into someone who needs to figure things out on her own. We gave her the tools, and now it's time for her to use them. You can't always be the one to fix things for her, Naraku. You taught her how to be strong, and now she has to learn how to ask for help of her own volition."

Naraku sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I know you're right. It's just hard for me to watch her take on so much. I want to make it better for her. She's always been so self-reliant."

Kagura smiled softly, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder. "That's because of us. We raised her to be resilient, to stand tall. But we also gave her the strength to reach out when it's necessary. She'll ask when she's ready. And when she does, you'll be there."

Naraku nodded, his expression softening with a mixture of pride and longing. "I just want her to know she doesn't have to face everything alone. That we're here for her."

Kagura's eyes twinkled with a knowing look. "And she knows that, Naraku. You just have to let her find her way. In her own time."

Naraku released a slow breath, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly. "I just want her to be happy, safe...protected."

Kagura nudged him playfully, her voice light with reassurance. "She will be. She's got you, me, and Shippo—watching her back. And don't forget, she's stronger than we think."

A faint smile flickered on Naraku's face, his worry melting just a little. "I hope you're right."

They both turned their gaze to Shippo, who had fallen asleep on the couch, marker still gripped tightly in his small hand. His drawing was a little messy, but it told a story—a heroic version of himself in a cape, bravely defeating a tall, white-haired figure. The proud smile on his face, even in his sleep, was the image of a protector, as though he already saw himself as the one to shield Kagome from anything that came her way. Kagura's heart melted at the sight—her son's innocence and fierce determination shining through, even in his dreams. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a deep affection for his earnest desire to care for his family.

Kanna wandered through the lush gardens, her small feet moving over the soft grass as she admired the flowers. While she once loved exploring here, today felt a little different. The solitude left a quiet ache in her heart as she thought about Rin, her new friend from the charity gala. Rin was so lively and fun, and now, with her absence, Kanna found herself wishing for her company.

She paused by a colorful patch of blooming flowers and sighed. Maybe it would be fun to invite Rin over—Kanna was certain Shippo could help arrange something. "Maybe we could all go to the playground or somewhere fun," Kanna mused aloud, her voice soft yet hopeful. She imagined running around with Rin again, laughter filling the air as they played together.

She had asked Shippo for some advice, and now she was determined to follow through with her plans. She could almost hear his encouraging voice in her head: "Just try it, Kanna! You'll see, it's not that hard!"

Standing near a blooming rose bush, she took a deep breath, gathered her thoughts, and then turned to face the imaginary friend she had conjured in her mind. The air was warm and calm, the sunlight dappling through the branches above, casting soft shadows on the ground.

"Hello," she began in a small voice, then quickly shook her head. That was too soft. She stood up straighter and tried again. "Hi! I'm Kanna. It's really nice to meet you!" Her voice was a bit firmer this time, but she still wasn't completely convinced. She needed to sound more confident—like how Shippo always spoke when meeting new people.

A gentle breeze swept through the garden, rustling the leaves, and Kanna couldn't help but smile. She tilted her head and looked at a butterfly fluttering nearby, using it as another "practice partner." "Hello, Butterfly," she said with a shy giggle, "I'm Kanna, and I'm very happy to meet you."

Feeling a little braver now, Kanna continued walking along the stone path, her eyes scanning the flowers and the trees, practicing her greetings to anyone—or anything—she passed by.