Evening fell, and the quiet hum of cicadas filled the air outside. The warmth of tea cradled in her hands, Kagome listened intently, eyes reflecting the dim glow of the living room's soft lighting. Koga's voice, steady yet weighed with experience, carried stories of times she had never imagined witnessing firsthand—world wars, the rise of nuclear weapons, the unrelenting endurance of demons as they adapted and blended into humanity's ever-changing landscape.
Ginta, Hakkaku, and Youko had excused themselves earlier in the evening, exchanging knowing glances before heading out.
She should have protested.
Asked them to stay.
But she didn't.
Selfishly, she let them leave.
It wasn't rocket science. They had seen the way theylooked at each other, the quiet tension that filled the space between their words. It was clear they left to allow for needed time alone.
Kagome had taken the offer with no hesitation.
And just like that, he had begun catching her up on his life. Koga started offwith a tour of the house, all the while speaking about his pack and what life was like for them in today's world.
She had listened with fascination as he described their traditions, how they balanced their primal instincts with modern society, and the ways they maintained their unity despite how scattered demons had become over the years.
"So, you mean to tell me that demons have been hiding in plain sight all this time?" Kagome asked, curiosity piqued, though her body betrayed her, sagging ever so slightly against the couch.
Koga nodded, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "You think we'd just let ourselves get wiped out? Please."
The please that came out of him made her laugh.
Still cocky.
Still confident.
Still Koga.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I guess not. But I can't imagine how hard it must have been. You had to change everything about how you lived."
Koga took a sip of his tea, his eyes momentarily distant. "Yeah… Some of us handled it better than others. Some tried to keep fighting, refusing to blend in. They didn't last long. Humans became dangerous, more than we ever anticipated." He let out a bitter chuckle. "It wasn't swords and arrows anymore. It was bombs, guns, chemicals that could wipe out entire cities in seconds. We had to evolve, or die out."
Kagome studied him, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled slightly against the mug as if holding back something unspoken. She reached out instinctively, resting a hand on his arm. "You made it through, though."
His gaze flickered to her touch, the air between them shifting. Her fingers were warm, grounding. "Yeah," he murmured. "Somehow."
Silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of words unsaid. Kagome felt her heart pounding in her chest, acutely aware of how close they were, how his body radiated heat beside her. She licked her lips and looked away, suddenly nervous.
Even now, after all this time, she felt like a teenager.
"Tell me another story," she said, needing to break the moment before it swallowed her whole.
Koga exhaled through his nose, a small, knowing smile curving his lips. "Alright. There was this one time, during the Cold War…"
She listened, enthralled, as he spoke of espionage, of demons who had taken on roles in intelligence agencies, working in the shadows to ensure their kind's survival. He told her about near-discoveries, close calls, of wolves like himself who had lived through centuries and had seen the world change in ways they never could have imagined.
For a while, she didn't know what was fact or fiction. Some seemed so hard to believe, while others seemedmore plausible.
The conversation stretched late into the night, their tea long forgotten as they sat, lost in each other's company. Slowly, Kagome's blinks grew longer, her body easing into the warmth beside her. She fought to stay awake, to keep listening, but exhaustion won over.
Before she realized it, her head rested against Koga's shoulder, her breath even and deep.
Koga stilled.
For a long moment, he didn't dare to move, barely even breathed. His entire body tensed, his senses overwhelmed by her closeness. The scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his—it was too much and not enough all at once. He clenched his fists, warring with himself. He had waited so long. Too long.
She was here.
Their chance was here.
He told himself that this couldn't be rushed.
He would give this his all.
But damn if he didn't want everything now.
Every inch of her.
Every memory.
Every life event.
He wanted her hand. He wanted a family. He wanted vacations. He wanted it all.
But that had always been the case.
Never had he been unsure of Kagome.
It had always been her and nothing else—no one else.
But even now, even after all this time, he knew he would have to start at the beginning. Even if he wanted to already dash to the end.
For her, he could start over every single day if he needed to.
Carefully, as if any sudden motion might wake her, he slid an arm beneath her knees and another behind her back. Lifting her with ease, he cradled her against his chest and carried her down the hallway, his steps silent as he made his way to his bedroom.
The room smelled faintly of pine, fresh linen, and something undeniably him. He laid her down with care, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face before he even realized what he was doing.
He should have left then.
He should have turned away, shut the door, and let her rest. But the thought of stepping back, of releasing the hand he now held so delicately in his own, made his chest tighten unbearably.
What if something happened?
As he lingered, Kagome stirred, her fingers lightly twitching against his. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, dazed and sleepy, yet she caught the sensation of his touch. "Mmm… feels good," she murmured. "Stay. We can rest."
Koga's breath hitched.
Stay?
He wanted to.
God, he wanted to.
Stay the night.
Stay forever.
But part of him feared falling asleep, afraid that this was just a dream, that she would be gone when he woke.
He couldn't risk that nightmare. No, he needed to stay awake. Not miss out on this.
He needed to protect her. Watch her. Soak in every moment, every second that she was near. Never leave her side again.
As if sensing his hesitation, Kagome squeezed his hand, her thumb lazily stroking over his skin. Half-asleep, she tugged at him, guiding him down onto the bed beside her before slipping back into slumber.
"Koga, we're safe. It's okay."
The mumble was quiet, but he heard every word.
He laid there, uncertain at first, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn't quiet. But as she settled, so did he. He turned onto his side, facing her, his eyes tracing every detail. His fingers ghosted over her cheek, her neck, her arm—memorizing everything about her. She was more mature, wiser, but still perfect.
Still his Kagome.
Her scent was unchanged, intoxicating as ever. His gaze flickered to her neck—unmarked. His chest ached at the sight. She had never been claimed. The thought sent a pang through him, but for now, he let it be. Instead, he watched her, fingers barely skimming over her skin, committing every feature to memory.
Briefly, he closed his eyes.
He envisioned it—the dream.
Kagome as his mate.
Pups running everywhere.
Happiness.
Snapping his eyes open, he made a note in his mind that it would be willed into existence.
He would have her.
She would have him.
Together, they would thrive.
But tomorrow? Tomorrow he would be firm.
She was never going to leave his sight. He was going to explain that he couldn't lose her again. From tonight until his dying breath, he would not let her leave his side.
Even if she didn't like it, she would have to understand.
He would protect her.
Never again would she disappear.