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Chapter Text

“You reek of death.”

Kagome sighed and opened her tired blue eyes to look up at whoever interrupted her nap. On her way back from helping a nearby village, an aggressive weasel demon had been harassing her, trying to steal her provisions. Finally, tired of fending it off only for it to return, Kagome unleashed a bit too much holy power, vaporizing the demon but draining herself in the process.

So when she decided to take a break and have a short nap under an oak tree, she hadn’t anticipated encountering the nosy demon lord.

“Gee, thanks. That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear,” she remarked.

Kagome had to squint and shield her eyes from the sun with her hand. Sesshoumaru was standing with his back to the west, the setting sun illuminating his tall figure.

“You are not ill or injured,” he continued, smelling the air, trying to discern what was afflicting the priestess.

Realizing that the demon wasn’t going to leave her alone, Kagome slowly stood up, trying not to reveal how exhausted she really was.

“No, I’m not. This may come as a surprise to you, but I am human,” she bent down and picked up her old yellow backpack. “And humans are mortal, so we always smell of death.”

Tightening the straps on her bag, she dusted off her priestess robes and started to walk past Sesshoumaru. Pausing beside him, she said, “If you plan to keep sniffing me, do it while walking. I’m tired and want to get home.” Without waiting for his response, she resumed her stride.

Sesshoumaru remained where he was, watching her until she crested a hill and disappeared into the sunset. He had not encountered the priestess since Naraku's defeat some years ago and had assumed she and the half-breed had mated, producing several grotesque quarter-demon offspring. But to his surprise she didn’t carry any scent from a male and her purity was almost completely masked under the stench of decay. 

Turning back east, Sesshoumaru continued on his journey to the slayer village where Rin and her husband lived. She was due to give birth to her first child soon and he wanted to ensure all went well. 

Gazing over his shoulder one last time, he wondered if the wayward priestess would present for the birth as well.

Chapter Text

“You can do it, Rin! Just one more push!” Kagome urged while crouched between the young woman’s legs.

Kohaku replaced the damp cloth on Rin’s forehead, gripping her hand tightly as she struggled with the final push. Sweat poured down Rin’s face, her breaths ragged and short. 

Outside the hut, Sango, Miroku, their twin daughters, and Inuyasha sat in a tense semicircle. Rin’s agonized screams and Kagome’s steady encouragement were the only sounds piercing the otherwise silent night.

Further away, beyond the village gates, Sesshoumaru sat beneath a tree, his keen senses picking up every detail: his ward’s cries, her husband’s frantic muttering, and the priestess’s relentless reassurance. His usually impassive face tightened with worry he would never admit.

Time seemed to stretch into an eternity, the sounds from the hut suddenly falling into an eerie silence. Alarmed, Sesshoumaru stood and sped toward the hut, arriving just in time to see Miroku and Kohaku struggling to hold back a frantic Inuyasha.

“Get off me!” Inuyasha roared, throwing off Miroku and lunging toward the hut.

“Sit, boy!” Kagome’s hoarse voice rang out from within.

Inuyasha slammed into the ground, his momentum halted. Sesshoumaru strolled past him, entering the dimly lit hut. What he saw made him stop in his tracks.

Rin was sitting up, tears streaming down her face as she watched Kagome leaning over her newborn baby.

“Come on, breathe!” Kagome sobbed, her voice breaking as she administered CPR to the tiny, lifeless form. Desperation etched into every line of her face, she glanced back at Inuyasha whose pained expression only fueled her determination.

Ignoring the frantic shouts of her friends, Kagome turned back to the baby, knowing what had to be done.

“Kagome, don’t! Let Sess—” Miroku’s voice was cut off as spiritual energy began to fill the room.

Confused, Sesshoumaru reached for Tenseiga, but hesitated when the air around Kagome crackled with a strange power. 

To his astonishment, the priestess began to glow a vibrant pink, her hair and robes billowing as if caught in an unseen wind. She held the infant close, her eyes closed, and placed a gentle, fervent kiss on its forehead.

The radiant power swept over the baby, enveloping it in a soft, warm light. Suddenly, a new sound echoed in Sesshoumaru’s ears—the unmistakable, steady beat of the child’s heart.

A soft whimper turned into a full-throated wail. With a heavy sigh of relief, Kagome withdrew her power, opened her eyes, and smiled down at the now-breathing baby.

“Hello, you,” she whispered, her voice filled with exhausted joy as she handed the baby over to his mother. “Congratulations, Rin. You have a son.”

As Rin cradled her child and tears of relief streamed down her face, Kagome’s strength gave out, and she began to fall.

Panicked, Inuyasha darted forward, catching her before she hit the ground. “Kagome! Damn it, we told you to let the bastard handle it!”

Sesshoumaru stood motionless, grappling with the need to understand what happened but ultimately deciding it did not matter. His ward and her pup were alive, and the priestess had fainted. He released his grip on his blade and exited the hut. As he walked away, he heard Sango’s daughter ask, “Is Auntie Kagome going to be okay?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Sango replied, her voice tinged with worry.

Chapter Text

One week later, Sesshoumaru returned to the slayer village, accompanied by Jaken and Ah-Un. The beast carried new clothing, food, and other supplies he deemed necessary for a human family with a newborn pup.

Sango and Miroku’s daughters were the first to greet them, the twins eagerly attempting to climb Ah-Un as he walked. Jaken, of course, berated them incessantly.

The commotion drew the attention of many villagers, and soon Kohaku stepped out of his home, bowing respectfully to the demon lord.

“Lord Sesshoumaru, we didn’t know you would return so soon. Rin and Hikaru are still sleeping.”

The soft breathing of his ward and her pup reached Sesshoumaru’s keen ears. He nodded to the boy. “Jaken, help Kohaku unload the gifts.”

Pausing from his scolding of the twins, Jaken eagerly replied, “Yes, Lord Sesshoumaru!”

As the two set to work, Sesshoumaru surveyed the village. The scents of his brother and the priestess still lingered, indicating they had not yet departed.

Following their scent, he arrived at the home of the slayer and monk. Approaching quietly, he overheard the hushed conversation between Inuyasha and Miroku.

“…she isn’t getting better, Miroku.”

“I know. I’m afraid Lady Kagome might have pushed herself too far this time.”

A low growl rumbled through the air. “Bullshit! This can’t be it. Kagome doesn’t deserve to—”

“Die? No, she does not. But if that were to happen—” another growl momentarily silenced the monk. “If it happens, she would be glad she was able to sacrifice herself for Rin’s son.”

“Fuck that!” Inuyasha’s voice rose, the sound of him shuffling and standing reaching Sesshoumaru’s ears. “She should have listened to me and let that asshole revive the brat. But she is too stubborn and—”

Inuyasha fell silent as he stepped outside and spotted his brother. Clenching his teeth, he stomped over. “You eavesdropping now?!”

Miroku quickly followed him out. “Lord Sesshoumaru, welcome back. Are you here to visit Rin?”

“Cut the pleasantries, Miroku!” Inuyasha snapped. This was not an ideal situation, but for the first time in his life, he might need the bastard’s help.

“I need to talk to you.” Without waiting for a response, Inuyasha headed towards the nearby forest, assuming Sesshoumaru would follow.

Chapter Text

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed, but he followed his half-brother into the forest. The shadows deepened as the sun began its descent, casting an eerie gloom over the path. Inuyasha finally stopped in a secluded clearing, turning to face Sesshoumaru with a desperate look in his eyes.

“I hate having to ask you for anything,” Inuyasha began. “But Kagome… she’s not recovering.”

Sesshoumaru regarded his brother silently. When no further explanation came, the forest around them seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the demon lord’s response.

Finally, Sesshoumaru spoke, his voice cold and measured. “What is it you are asking of me?”

Inuyasha looked away, his gaze drifting in the direction of the hut he had just left. “If something happens and Kagome doesn’t pull through, will you bring her back?”

“Why would the priestess not recover?”

Sesshoumaru found the request foolish. The priestess had survived countless battles and even defeated Naraku. Why did the half-breed think she would perish now?

Inuyasha sighed, crouching down as if the weight of the words he was about to say were too much to bear standing. “After Kagome made her wish on the jewel, we all thought it was finally gone for good. The well was sealed shut, so she had no way of returning home.” He mindlessly traced patterns in the dirt with a claw as he spoke. “It wasn’t until a few weeks later when she used her powers for the first time since the fight with Naraku that we realized something was wrong.”

Sesshoumaru approached and took a seat in front of him, his brother's desperation becoming clear now.

“She was using her bow to scare off some crow demons attacking a farmer’s cattle. After firing a fifth reiki-infused arrow, she stumbled. I thought maybe she was just being her clumsy self until she collapsed.” Inuyasha’s eyes were full of anguish as he met Sesshoumaru’s gaze. “The jewel wasn’t destroyed but instead returned to where it came from—Kagome’s body. She became its host again, but Miroku thinks that unlike before, it no longer stayed dormant.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes widened slightly. This explained why the scent of death clung heavily to her. “Now that the priestess can control her powers, each time she draws from them, so does the jewel.”

“The fucking jewel is killing her! It’s literally sucking the life out of her every time she uses her power!” Inuyasha’s voice was frantic, anguish etched into every word. He had begged Kagome to stop, to refrain from using her powers, but she had never listened.

Silence stretched between them, the issue of Kagome’s mortality hanging thick in the air. Inuyasha’s heart pounded as he waited for Sesshoumaru’s response.

“I cannot help her.”

Chapter Text

Those five words sent an icy chill through Inuyasha’s veins. His breath caught, his mind reeling as he struggled to comprehend why Sesshoumaru would refuse. 

“Yes, you can,” he hissed, his claws digging into the dirt. “Just use your fang to bring her ba—”

Sesshoumaru stood abruptly, his expression inscrutable, and turned away before Inuyasha could finish. “Bringing her back will only allow the jewel to kill her again.”

Inuyasha’s heart plummeted as he watched his brother walk away, each step Sesshoumaru took deepening the chasm of hopelessness within him. Sesshoumaru’s refusal shattered the fragile hope Inuyasha had clung to, leaving him feeling hollow.

Remaining on his knees, Inuyasha pounded the ground with his fists, the dirt giving way beneath his strength. “Damn it!” he shouted into the encroaching darkness.

Memories of Kagome’s unwavering optimism, her endless compassion, flooded his mind. She had always fought for those she loved, always sacrificed herself without hesitation. And now, the thought of losing her forever was unbearable.

With a guttural roar, Inuyasha forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t let it end like this. If Sesshoumaru wouldn’t help, he would find another way.

As Inuyasha stumbled back to the village, the faces of his friends came into view, gathered outside their home, their expressions a mixture of relief and worry. The sight should have filled him with a hope he could no longer muster.

"Inuyasha! Kagome is awake!" Sango cried out, her voice breaking as fresh tears streamed down her face.

Inuyasha's heart fluttered. He quickened his pace, almost tripping over his own feet as he rushed towards the hut where Kagome lay.

Inside she was propped up on a mat, her face pale and her breaths shallow, but her hazy blue eyes were open, and they lit up with a weak smile as she saw him.

"Inuyasha," she whispered. 

He dropped to his knees beside her, taking her hand in his, the heat of his palms a stark contrast to the coldness of her skin. "Kagome…," he muttered.

Kagome's smile faded slightly as she looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry. You know I had to-”

Her words were cut off when her friend suddenly pulled her into a crushing embrace. 

Chapter Text

It had been three long months since Sesshoumaru had last seen Rin, and her newborn pup. With Ah-Un in tow, the demon lord left his lands and began another journey toward the slayer village.

As he approached a fork in the road, Sesshoumaru paused. To the left, the familiar path would lead him to the slayer village by nightfall. To the right, the road wound its way toward Edo—a place he had deliberately avoided since his last encounter with Inuyasha. The half-demon had come to him in pleading for Kagome’s life. Sesshoumaru had denied him, knowing that reviving her would only prolong her suffering at the hands of the cursed jewel. Yet, the question had lingered in his mind: had she survived?

He stood at the crossroads, his gaze flickering between the two paths. Instinct called him to Rin, but curiosity pulled him to Edo. After a moment of silent contemplation, Sesshoumaru turned left, choosing the path toward the slayer village.

When he arrived, Rin greeted him with the joy and warmth she always had for him, but there was a new weariness in her eyes, a tiredness that only a newborn could bring. Rin's insistence that he bond with the pup led to two days of quiet observation. Yet, the creature, as Sesshoumaru saw it, did little more than cry and eat. He felt detached, an observer of a life that was not his own. He had protected Rin, raised her, and ensured her safety—but this? This was beyond him.

On the third day, Sesshoumaru found himself standing at the edge of the village, gazing toward the horizon. The time had come to leave, but as he turned to go, the nagging curiosity resurfaced. The crossroads beckoned once more. He made his way back to the fork in the road, his decision this time resolute.

Sesshoumaru took the path to Edo.

The journey was quiet, the landscape familiar. When he arrived at the outskirts of the village, dusk was settling over the land, casting long shadows across the fields. The air was thick with the scent of earth and the faint traces of spiritual energy that always clung to Kagome's presence.

He approached cautiously, his senses heightened as he neared the small hut where she and Inuyasha lived. The usual sounds of the village—the chatter of children, the clatter of daily life—faded into the background as his focus narrowed. His keen ears picked up on a feminine voice humming somewhere beyond the hut. 

Rounding the small home, he spotted the priestess, very much alive. Her body was illuminated by the setting sun as she removed items from a clothesline. The tune she hummed was foreign to him, but not unpleasant. She seemed to struggle somewhat when she lifted the basket of clothing, and her skin was pale, but she appeared to have recovered. 

Tired blue eyes focused on him and a smile pulled on her lips. “Sesshoumaru, what brings you here?” She asked while trying to keep the basket steady on her hip. 

Without a second thought, the demon lord reached out and took the basket from Kagome's hands. Her strength was waning—he could sense it in the slight tremor of her fingers and the faintness of her pulse. It would be troublesome, he thought, if she were to collapse in his presence. 

Kagome blinked in surprise but before she could question it, Sesshoumaru had already begun walking toward her small hut. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the village below, and the air was thick with the scent of approaching rain.

"Thank you," she murmured, hurrying to catch up with him. "Were you visiting Rin and the baby?"

"Hm," was his only response as he set the basket down on the worn porch. His sharp gaze swept the area, taking in every detail. A quick inhale told him that Inuyasha's scent was stale, a few days old at least. He had not been here in some time.

"Where is the half-breed?" Sesshoumaru asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Kagome sighed softly, lowering herself onto the creaking porch. The wood groaned under her weight, and she winced at the sound. It had been years since the hut had seen any repairs, and it showed. "He's still mad at me," she admitted, her tone light despite the seriousness of her words. She began folding the laundry from the basket, her hands moving methodically through the motions. "He's been taking on more jobs outside the village. I told him he’s just being silly, that he shouldn’t worry so much when I use my powers."

Her casual demeanor didn’t fool Sesshoumaru. He knew better than to be deceived by her calm exterior. The faint scent of illness clung to her, mingling with the traces of spiritual power that had grown weaker over time. Weeks ago, she had been on the brink of death, her life force nearly extinguished by the cursed jewel. And yet, here she was, speaking as if none of it mattered. He suspected she was unaware of how much he knew.

Sesshoumaru watched her in silence. He didn’t leave, though he had intended to. Instead, he lowered himself onto the porch beside her. From their vantage point on the hill, the village stretched out before them like a living tapestry.

Kagome continued her chores, folding and smoothing each piece of fabric. Sesshoumaru’s senses remained sharp, attuned to every shift in her breathing, every subtle change in her heartbeat. It was weak, much too weak for someone her age, and her scent bore the same frailty as the elderly priestess who had once cared for Rin.

Yet, despite it all, no complaints passed her lips, no signs of suffering marred her face. She moved through her tasks with a quiet determination that he found both perplexing and, perhaps, admirable.

After a time, Kagome broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. "You don’t have to stay, Sesshoumaru. I’m sure you have more important things to do."

Sesshoumaru glanced at her, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "I do what I please," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kagome offered him a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Of course."

She returned to her work, but Sesshoumaru continued to watch her. He had made a choice—one he did not regret—but the consequences of that choice lingered in the air between them. 

"You are not foolish enough to think this charade can last forever," Sesshoumaru said after a long pause.

Kagome stilled, her hands pausing mid-fold. She looked up at him, her expression suddenly serious. "I know," she admitted quietly. "But what else can I do? I can’t just stop living because I’m afraid of what’s coming."

Her words, though simple, held a weight that Sesshoumaru understood all too well. Mortals were fragile, fleeting things, and yet they clung to life with a tenacity that often surprised him. Kagome was no different, though her situation was more dire than most.

He studied her for a moment longer before speaking again. "The jewel will not be satisfied until it has consumed all of you."

Kagome nodded, her gaze drifting out over the village. "I know," she whispered. "But until then... I want to live. I want to enjoy the time I have left, no matter how short it may be."

Sesshoumaru did not respond immediately. Her words echoed in his mind, and for a brief moment, he considered what it would be like to see the world through her eyes—to face death with such acceptance, yet continue to fight against it in every way that mattered.

As the sky darkened and the first drops of rain began to fall, Sesshoumaru stood, his decision made. "Do as you will, priestess," he said and then stepped out into the rain, intending to finally return home. 

Chapter Text

Despite his initial resolve, Sesshoumaru found himself standing at the edge of Bokuseno’s ancient forest. The towering trees loomed above him, their branches intertwined like the fingers of old gods, casting deep shadows on the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of earth and the faint whisper of the wind through the leaves. For a moment, he simply stood there, motionless, his gaze fixed on the path ahead.

It had been clear to him that Inuyasha had lied to the priestess. The half-breed’s claim of finding work outside the village was nothing more than a flimsy excuse to hide his true intentions. Sesshoumaru had no doubt that his brother was frantically searching for a way to save Kagome, driven by the desperation that came with his human emotions. It was, after all, what Inuyasha did best—clinging to hope, no matter how impossible.

So why was Sesshoumaru here, at the threshold of Bokuseno's domain? This was not his concern. Whether the priestess lived or died should have meant nothing to him. Her fate was entwined with that of the Shikon Jewel, a cursed charm that had wrought nothing but chaos and suffering. It was a matter that should have held no place in his mind, and yet... here he was.

As Sesshoumaru turned to leave, the image of a newborn pup cradled in Kagome’s arms flashed unbidden in his mind. He remembered the way she had sacrificed a part of herself to save Rin’s child, how her power had flared with such intensity that it had nearly consumed her. She had done it without hesitation, for the sake of one who belonged to his pack. It was an act that, in some way, had bound her fate to his.

A debt, he realized. She had saved what was his, and in return, he owed her the slightest consideration. It was not compassion that drove him, nor was it concern. It was simply the acknowledgment of a balance that needed to be restored.

Deciding that it would do no harm to ask, Sesshoumaru stepped forward, the forest welcoming him with an eerie stillness. The dense woods closed in around him as he made his way deeper into it. The ancient trees seemed to watch him as he passed.

It wasn’t long before he reached the heart of the forest, where Bokuseno’s massive form stood rooted in the earth, a towering figure of gnarled wood and wisdom. The tree demon’s eyes slowly opened, glowing with the light of centuries past, and his deep, resonant voice echoed through the clearing.

“Sesshoumaru... It has been some time.”

Sesshoumaru inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Bokuseno.”

The ancient tree regarded him with a knowing look. “You seek answers, though not for yourself. The winds carry whispers of the priestess and the jewel she still bears. Is that why you stand before me now?”

Sesshoumaru’s expression remained impassive, but his silence spoke volumes. Bokuseno chuckled softly, the sound like the rustling of leaves in the wind.

“The Shikon Jewel... It is a burden no mortal should bear, least of all one who has already sacrificed so much and is displaced in time. The darkness within it will consume her, as it has consumed others before her.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And yet she lives.”

“For now,” Bokuseno replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. “But the jewel is relentless. It feeds on her power, her life force, drawing her closer to its core with every passing day. Eventually, it will devour her, body and soul.”

A faint flicker of something akin to frustration passed through Sesshoumaru’s mind, though it did not show on his face. He had anticipated this answer, yet hearing it confirmed was still a bitter pill to swallow.

“Is there a way to rid her of it?” Sesshoumaru asked, keeping his voice devoid of any emotion.

Bokuseno’s branches swayed as he pondered the question. “There are ways... though none are without great risk. The jewel is a part of her now, entwined with her very essence. To remove it would be to sever a piece of her soul. It could destroy her... or it could save her. It is impossible to say.”

Sesshoumaru remained silent, his mind turning over the possibilities. He was not one to gamble with lives, especially not for a mere human. 

“There is one thing you must understand, Sesshoumaru,” Bokuseno continued, his voice growing more somber. “If you choose to intervene, you will be altering the balance of fate. The priestess’s destiny is tangled with that of the jewel, and by extension, with yours and all those around her. Whatever decision you make will have far-reaching consequences, for better or worse.”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze narrowed. He was no stranger to the burden of responsibility, nor to making decisions that could change the course of history. He had done so before, and he would do so again if necessary.

“Tell me what must be done,” he said finally.

Bokuseno’s eyes gleamed with a hint of pride. “Very well, Sesshoumaru. But know this—once you set this path in motion, there will be no turning back. The priestess’s fate, and your own, will be forever altered.”

Sesshoumaru met the tree demon’s eyes without flinching. “I am prepared, now tell me.”

Chapter Text

Sitting in his study, Sesshoumaru tried to push Bokuseno’s words from his mind, but they clung to him like a parasite. He should have let Inuyasha flounder, left the half-breed to his futile search for a way to save the priestess. It wasn’t his concern, not his burden to bear. Yet here he was, caught in the web of their lives.

The room around him was dim, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant chirping of insects outside. Despite the quiet, his thoughts were anything but peaceful. He could almost hear the echo of Bokuseno's voice, reminding him of the path he had chosen to tread.

Sesshoumaru's gaze drifted to the scrolls scattered across his desk, but the words blurred into meaningless lines. His thoughts were consumed by the possibilities Bokuseno had laid before him. The ancient tree had made it clear—there was no simple solution. He could physically remove the cursed Shikon Jewel from Kagome's body, but the act would sever whatever part of her soul was left. If her spirit was too fragile to survive the separation, she would die. There would be no coming back from that, not even with his Tenseiga.

And yet, there was another option. He could offer her a portion of his own soul, his own life force, to strengthen what remained of hers after the jewel's removal. But it was not a simple act of charity. Such a transfer would bind them together in a way that was dangerously intimate. It was akin to a mating ritual—a sharing of essence that could not be undone. Only completing half of it could create an imbalance, a connection that neither of them might fully control. 

Sesshoumaru leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. He had faced countless enemies, defeated powerful armies, and yet this decision troubled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The logical path was clear—leave it alone, let the half-breed deal with the consequences of his human’s fate. But something deeper, more instinctual, urged him to act.

She had fought alongside him, protected his ward, and faced death without flinching. And now, despite the danger, she continued to carry on, refusing to be crushed by the jewel’s curse. Perhaps, in some way, he respected that. Or perhaps it was something else entirely—something he wasn’t ready to confront.

He sighed and rose from his seat to look out the window. It overlooked the garden behind his home, a place of tranquility he had cultivated over the years. The night was dark, but the faint glow of fireflies danced among the flowers, their tiny lights drifting from petal to petal. Sesshoumaru watched them, his inhuman eyes following their movements as if searching for answers in their gentle glow.

He had always valued control, precision, and detachment. But this decision required something more—something that challenged the very core of his being. Sharing his soul, binding his fate to hers, was a risk. Yet, the image of Kagome, weakened but determined, haunted him. She had already given so much, and if there was a way to free her from the jewel’s curse without destroying her, did he not owe her that?

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Sesshoumaru finally turned away from the window. His decision had been made. He would seek out the priestess, not out of obligation, but because it was the only course of action that sat right with him, despite the risks. The consequences, whatever they might be, would be dealt with in time.

With a final glance at the fading fireflies, Sesshoumaru left his study.

Chapter Text

“Fuck no!" Inuyasha's voice rang out as he stood before Sesshoumaru. "If anyone is going to give Kagome a piece of their soul, it's me!"

Sesshoumaru had anticipated this reaction—Inuyasha’s emotions always clouded his judgment. Tracking him down had been simple; getting him to understand why he wasn't strong enough to make this sacrifice would be the real challenge.

"That is not ideal," Sesshoumaru said. "Your demon blood would attempt to overcompensate, driving you into madness. Sounga tapped into that hatred once before—if it happens again, there will be no escape."

Inuyasha faltered, his face paling as the memory of the hell blade resurfaced. The nightmares still haunted him—visions of Sounga consuming him, forcing him to slaughter everyone he cared about. The thought of that happening again, of losing control and killing Kagome in his misguided attempt to save her sent a chill down his spine. But even so, the sting of Sesshoumaru’s words reignited his anger.

"Why does it have to be you?" Inuyasha snarled. "What makes you so special?"

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. Words alone wouldn’t suffice. If Inuyasha needed proof of why he was the only one capable of this, then so be it.

Without warning, Sesshoumaru unleashed his full aura. The air around them thickened, the atmosphere becoming charged with his overwhelming power. Winds whipped through the trees, tearing leaves from their branches, and debris was swept up in the tempest, striking Inuyasha as it circled them. The sheer force of Sesshoumaru's presence pressed down on him, suffocating, as if the very air had been sucked from his lungs.

Inuyasha gritted his teeth trying to resist, but the pressure became unbearable. The strength of Sesshoumaru's power bore down on him, forcing him to his knees. Every instinct screamed at him to fight back, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It was as if the world itself had turned against him.

Just when he thought he would be crushed under the force, Sesshoumaru withdrew his aura, the oppressive energy dissipating as quickly as it had come. Inuyasha gasped for breath and sweat dripped from his brow as he glared up at his brother.

"That," Sesshoumaru said coldly, his gaze locked on Inuyasha, "was only a taste, little brother. If I truly wished you dead, you would be."

Inuyasha’s anger simmered, but he couldn’t deny the truth in Sesshoumaru’s words. The demon lord's power far exceeded his own. He hated to admit it, but there was no way he could survive the separation of his soul without losing himself to the demon blood within. And if that happened, Kagome would be the one to pay the price.

Sesshoumaru, for all his arrogance, was the only one capable of doing this without destroying her in the process. It stung his pride, but Inuyasha knew he had no choice but to accept it.

"Fine," Inuyasha muttered, his voice rough with defeat. "But if you hurt her... if anything happens to her because of you..."

Sesshoumaru's eyes gleamed, daring the boy to threaten him. "She will survive," he stated simply. "That is all you need to know."

With that, Sesshoumaru turned his back on his half-brother. All that was left was to seek out Kagome and propose this plan. Ultimately, it was her choice whether she wished to live or not.

Chapter Text

Sesshoumaru took his time traveling to Edo, lingering along the way to visit Rin and her family. He spent hours with her and the pup, watching as the newborn squirmed in her arms and listening to the mundane conversations about the village. He stayed longer than necessary, perhaps hoping to delay the inevitable confrontation that awaited him. No doubt Inuyasha had raced back to Kagome after their conversation. Whether the half-breed had informed her of the dangerous solution to her problem was unclear. Either way, Sesshoumaru was bound to discover the truth soon enough.

Nine days later, he found himself climbing the familiar hill leading to Kagome’s small home. The late afternoon sun bathed the village in golden light as he reached the crest, his sharp gaze taking in the modest hut that sat atop it. He paused, listening for signs of life. Neither she nor Inuyasha were home. With no interest in alerting the villagers to his presence, he settled himself on the porch, folding his arms and waiting. He had patience in abundance, and today would be no exception.

Hours passed in silence until the sound of light laughter reached his ears, like the chime of distant bells. Kagome appeared moments later, smiling brightly as she walked up the hill, carrying a basket of vegetables. Beside her, Inuyasha trudged with a stag slung across his shoulders, his scowl deepening the closer they came to the hut. The half-breed’s expression soured further when he spotted Sesshoumaru waiting for them.

"Oh! Sesshoumaru, hello!" Kagome greeted him, her voice cheerful, though the slight surprise in her tone didn’t escape him.

Inuyasha, however, had no such pleasantries. “I’ll go prepare some meat for the stew,” he grumbled, making his way around the back of the hut with a barely concealed growl. Sesshoumaru could sense his irritation, but there was no confrontation—no mention of the conversation they’d had days prior. Inuyasha had clearly kept their discussion to himself, likely wanting Sesshoumaru to be the one to break the news. Cowardly, but unsurprising.

Sesshoumaru followed Kagome inside as she busied herself with preparing dinner. She moved efficiently, washing and cutting vegetables as a pot of water boiled on the hearth. Her movements were smooth, almost peaceful, but Sesshoumaru's keen senses didn’t miss the underlying exhaustion in her body. Her heartbeat was slower than it should have been, her aura dimmer than when he had last seen her.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked without looking up, her attention fixed on her task.

"No."

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at his abrupt response. “Then why are you here? Did something happen to Rin?”

Before she could let the worry grow, Sesshoumaru spoke again.. “She and the pup are well.”

Relief washed over her features, but she continued to stare at him, curiosity now replacing her concern. She set down the radish she’d been slicing and turned fully to face him, her brow furrowing slightly. "So, why are you here, then?"

Sesshoumaru straightened, his golden eyes meeting hers. “I have come to deliver information regarding your… affliction.”

A small chuckle escaped her lips. “That’s an interesting way to put it.”

He ignored her lightheartedness. “I sought out Bokuseno to inquire whether the jewel could be removed from your body without further harm.”

Kagome’s demeanor shifted instantly. Her casual posture stiffened, and the faint amusement in her eyes vanished. “Bokuseno? Who is that?”

“An ancient tree demon, and an old friend of my father’s. When in need of counsel or guidance, his wisdom has often proved invaluable.”

Kagome blinked, surprised that Sesshoumaru would have gone out of his way to consult someone on her behalf. The demon lord rarely involved himself in the affairs of others—especially hers. But why? What was it that made him care?

“And what did he say?” she asked, her voice quieter now, hesitant.

“The cursed jewel has already devoured much of your soul,” Sesshoumaru began. “Even if you were to perish, Tenseiga would not be able to restore you.”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t speak. She merely sat there, waiting for him to continue.

“But,” he said, his voice softening just a fraction, “if the jewel is removed from your body and I give you a portion of my soul, you may survive.”

Kagome stared at him, her hands trembling ever so slightly as his words sank in. She had always known the jewel was killing her. And now, he was offering her a solution—a chance at survival. But it came with a price.

"You… your soul?" she whispered, disbelief coloring her tone. "But that… what does that mean…?"

Sesshoumaru remained calm, though his jaw tightened at the implications of what he was offering. “Sharing a portion of my soul would bind us together,” he explained. “It is akin to a mating bond, though incomplete. The risks are significant, and the consequences… permanent.”

Kagome swallowed the lump in her throat. She had no idea what this would mean for her, for them. How could she accept such a sacrifice? How could she bind herself to him, of all people? Yet, the alternative was her slow death, the jewel consuming her until there was nothing left… a burden she had already come to terms with

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you do this for me?”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze never wavered, though a flicker of something unreadable crossed his features. He thought of Rin’s newborn pup, the life Kagome had saved at the cost of her own well-being, and the debt he now owed. But more than that, something deeper tugged at him—a quiet recognition that perhaps, in some way, she was no longer just the half-breed’s companion. She had become someone who had earned his respect.

“You saved a member of my pack,” he said simply. “I do not leave debts unpaid.”

Kagome’s heart pounded in her chest, and she suddenly felt dizzy with the gravity of the decision before her.

“I… I need time to think,” she finally said, her voice trembling.

Sesshoumaru nodded, though he could see the conflict in her eyes. “Do not take too long, priestess. The jewel’s corruption will not wait for your decision.” 

With that, he turned and left the hut, leaving Kagome alone with her thoughts and the chilling reminder of what she stood to lose if she did not act soon.

Chapter Text

Winter was just around the corner, bringing the biting chill and the inevitable wave of illness that often came with it. Sesshoumaru, ever mindful of Rin and her family, made his preparations. Once again, he brought Ah-Un, their saddlebags laden with demon fur pelts, demon wood that burned hotter and longer than any human kindling, bundles of herbs, and salted meats to last through the bitter season. The village would want for nothing under his watch, not if he could help it.

As he passed through the slayer’s village, a faint but familiar scent caught his attention. He was surprised to find Kagome there, distributing pouches of herbal remedies to villagers. Her aura was weaker, her vitality barely flickering beneath the surface. He had hoped, perhaps in some small and unspoken part of himself, that her condition would not have worsened—but it had. 

She looked a shadow of herself. Her once vibrant skin had paled to a sickly hue, her face thinner, her neck fragile, like she might shatter with the slightest touch. Dark circles framed her once-bright blue eyes, now dull and lifeless, and even her lips, usually full of color, were drained and pale. If Sesshoumaru hadn't known it was the priestess, he might have mistaken her for a walking corpse.

Their eyes met briefly. Kagome quickly turned away, focusing on her work, her hands trembling as she tied the herbal pouches. Odd. There was no greeting, no warmth in her demeanor. She avoided him, and he wasn’t one to chase after what didn’t want to be caught. Still, her avoidance irked him.

He pushed the matter from his mind as he made his way to Rin’s home. The day passed in light conversation and tea, with Rin periodically checking over her newborn, Hikaru. The child grumbled and fussed now and then but remained calm for the most part. 

It wasn’t long before Kagome stepped into the hut, clearly making an effort to sit as far from him as possible. She greeted Rin with a forced smile, her gaze lingering only on the baby. She cooed softly over Hikaru, accepting tea from Rin without looking Sesshoumaru’s way.

“Can you watch Hikaru while I go see what’s taking Kohaku so long? I’m sure Miroku has him cornered again, filling his head with more of his lecherous stories,” Rin said with a soft laugh, grabbing a fur-lined cloak as she prepared to leave.

Kagome smiled, though the expression barely touched her eyes. “Of course,” she agreed, holding out her arms to take the baby. 

The moment Rin stepped outside, Sesshoumaru’s gaze fixed on Kagome. He wasn’t one for unnecessary conversation, and now that they were alone, he wasted no time. "You are avoiding me."

The bluntness of his words startled her, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. It was always like him to cut straight to the point. Kagome loved and hated that about him. “So I am,” she admitted softly, her voice a tired whisper as she continued to stroke Hikaru's Short black hair.

He waited for more, but when nothing came, he pressed on. “You have considered my offer?”

Kagome’s hand stilled, her eyes dropping to the baby in her lap. For a long moment, she remained silent, and then finally, a long, weary sigh escaped her. “Yes. I’ve thought about it.” She paused, her voice cracking just slightly as she spoke. “And I have to decline.”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze narrowed. Decline? She would rather die than accept his offer? The idea settled uneasily within him. It struck a nerve he hadn’t anticipated. 

His pride stung, and though he knew it was beneath him, he said it anyway, hoping the words might sway her. "Bokuseno told me of your origins, that you are not of this time. Prolonging your life would allow you the chance to see your family again. To return to them.”

The reaction was instant. Kagome’s body went rigid, her breath hitching as if the very thought of seeing her family again cut through her resolve. He could see the struggle within her, the temptation, the desire. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like his words had worked, that she might reconsider.

But then, her voice came, softer, more resigned. “I would rather see them again in the afterlife than live to watch everyone I love die before I do.”

The words hit him like a blow, almost causing him to flinch. Almost. Sesshoumaru, one who had lived for centuries, who had watched mortals perish time and time again without a second thought, now felt the weight of her words settle uncomfortably in his chest. Watching those he cared for die had never bothered him before—it was the natural course of things, after all.

But her words resonated, echoed louder than he wanted to admit. His gaze drifted down to Hikaru, the child in Kagome’s arms. This tiny life, fragile and fleeting. One day, the baby would grow, live, and—like all mortals—eventually die. Just as Rin would. Just as Kagome wished to. 

Kagome’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I know what you’re offering, Sesshoumaru. I know you think it’s the right thing to do. But… I can’t live like that. I can’t live knowing that I’ll keep going when everyone else around me will fade away.” 

Sesshoumaru remained silent. He didn’t often concern himself with the whims of mortals, and yet… this was different. Kagome was different. And so, for the first time in his long life, he found himself wondering if the price of immortality was truly worth the loneliness it would bring.

Chapter Text

Rin and Kohaku had been more than happy to let Kagome stay the night. The next morning when she woke, Sesshoumaru was already gone. His departure left a hollow ache in her chest—had he left in anger? In indifference? Or worse, had he been relieved by her decision to die with the jewel ending its curse for good?

Her mind lingered on these thoughts as she forced herself out of bed, her body already protesting the movement. Every morning was a battle now. Her legs were weak and too much movement left her gasping for breath as her strength was sapped away. After a light breakfast and repeatedly assuring Rin that she was fine—though they both knew that was far from the truth—Kagome began her long journey back to Edo. 

Each step felt like a monumental effort. Her body was a stranger to her, uncooperative and fragile. Every hour or so she had to stop and rest, sitting by the side of the road clutching her chest as she tried to calm her erratic breathing. About halfway home she paused again, lifting her face toward the sky. The air was crisp carrying the scent of the first snowfall and she couldn’t help but smile faintly. Winter would be early this year. She hoped Inuyasha had managed to catch a boar because she suddenly craved roasted pork for dinner.

A soft bird’s song caught her attention from the nearby trees. It was a brief, simple distraction—just enough to pull her focus away from the uneven road beneath her feet. When she stepped forward again, her ankle twisted in a hidden hole, and she was sent tumbling down the embankment crashing into the ditch below. 

Pain shot through her, sharp and searing. Her ankle throbbed but it was the jolt to her body, the shock of being thrown, that left her paralyzed for what felt like an eternity. She lay there gasping for breath, the sky above slowly fading into shades of evening. The day was slipping away and she knew she needed to get home before nightfall. But when she tried to stand, a tightness in her chest caused her to freeze.

Suddenly her lungs seized. She couldn’t breathe. No matter how hard she tried, no air would fill her lungs. Panic swelled within her faster than the pain. Her body was betraying her. The world was growing darker, her vision blurring, and no matter how desperately she gasped, it was as though the air itself had vanished.

This can’t be it. She couldn’t die like this. Not alone on the side of a deserted road. She managed to get onto her hands and knees, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her entire body trembled with the effort but still she couldn’t move. Her breaths became shallow and rapid, as if she were drowning on land.

Tears blurred her vision further as she collapsed back onto the cold earth, her fingers clawing at the dirt in a desperate attempt to ground herself. Would her friends find her? Or would they just forget she ever existed? The thought sent a choked sob from her throat as her body grew heavier, weaker. The world was slipping away and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her mind raced, flashes of memories—Inuyasha, Sango, Miroku, Shippo, Rin, Sesshoumaru, her family—swirled in her fading consciousness. Would she ever see them again? Or would her death be just another silent tragedy on this forgotten road? 

She managed to roll onto her back, staring up at the darkening sky. The cold, dead grass pressed against her skin as the numbness began to creep in. The pain was dulling now, fading into a strange almost peaceful emptiness. Even as tears continued to fall, she tried to smile. Once she is gone the jewel will die too. The parasite would be rendered useless, and maybe, just maybe, she could rest knowing that her death served some purpose.

Her vision was nearly gone now, the world dimming into black. But just before the darkness fully descended, a flash of silver and gold flickered in the corner of her sight. She blinked weakly, her body trembling as she struggled to focus. A figure—strong, familiar—loomed over her.

For a moment she thought it was a dream. A hallucination brought on by her failing body. But then she felt it—warm, strong arms pulling her close and cradling her. She gasped softly just barely managing a small breath, her lips parting into a genuine weak smile.

“Inuyasha... you came for me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

She buried her face into something soft and as white as freshly fallen snow, her body going limp in the embrace. Strong, comforting. The world around her faded completely and as everything went black, she let herself fall into the darkness with a small smile still lingering on her lips.

Chapter Text

Sesshoumaru had not strayed far from the slayer village. Something deep within him, an unshakable instinct, tugged at his senses urging him to remain close. He didn’t fully understand why. Perhaps it was the sight of the priestess and her sickly, frail appearance lingering in his mind. Or maybe it was something else, a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had not been able to silence since leaving. Whatever it was, it gnawed at him, compelling him to stay nearby.

Before he even returned to the village gates, Sesshoumaru knew that Kagome was no longer there. Her scent, now faint and fading, was no longer within the village. Irritation flared in him, quickly replaced by concern when he scented the air more deeply. Kagome had ventured off alone—and worse still, her scent was laced with something far more ominous: the oppressive stench of decay.

His golden eyes narrowed, and his hand twitched toward his sword as a low growl threatened to escape his throat. She had been foolish to leave alone, especially in her weakened state. With a burst of demonic speed, Sesshoumaru followed the trail, moving swiftly through the dense forest. The smell of death grew stronger with each passing moment and his chest tightened. It wasn’t long before he found her, but it was not the sight he had hoped for.

There, just off the worn road, Kagome lay on her back with her chest heaving. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and her body trembled with each failed attempt to draw air. Her eyes were dull and clouded, barely able to focus. Sesshoumaru stood there for a moment, the scene unfolding before him like a vision he had seen before.

Kagura… The memory of the wind witch’s final moments flooded his mind. The day he had found her, her death lingering in the air like a bitter promise, Tenseiga had refused him then, just as it refused him now. His hand fell from the hilt of the sword. He had watched helplessly as Kagura had faded from this world with a faint smile on her lips, and it seemed history was repeating itself.

But this time, it was Kagome.

Stepping forward, he leaned over her, assessing how much time she had left. The scent of death clung to her like a cloak, but when her eyes found his, a faint, genuine smile curled her lips. She reached out to him, her fragile fingers trembling as they sought his touch. He could not deny her. Gently, he lifted her into his arms, her body almost weightless.

“Inuyasha... you came for me,” she whispered, her voice so faint it was almost lost in the wind. Her words cut through him like a blade.

His grip tightened, pulling her closer, as if to remind her she was not alone. Her heartbeat was now fading, growing fainter by the second. This had been her choice—to die, to let the cursed jewel take her. 

That was not what he wanted.

Without a second thought Sesshoumaru took to the sky holding Kagome close to his chest. His mind raced, but his path was clear. There was still time, however little. He flew with relentless speed, the wind roaring past him as he descended upon a secluded oasis hidden within the mountains. A waterfall cascaded down the rocky cliffside, and without breaking his stride, Sesshoumaru passed through the rushing water entering a hidden cave behind it.

Kagome’s heartbeat had now stopped. He wasted no time laying her atop his mokomoko to shield her from the damp stone floor. Sesshoumaru’s tore through the fabric of her red hakama, revealing her frail, emaciated frame. Beneath the skin a faint pink glow pulsed where the cursed jewel was embedded deep within her body. 

His clawed fingers pierced her flesh, ignoring the blood that seeped from the wound as he pulled the cruel object from her. The vile, flickering orb seemed to mock him as he tossed it aside, letting it clatter against the stone floor, forgotten. 

He wasn’t done.

Sesshoumaru bent over Kagome, his fangs bared as his aura flared. His eyes bled red as he sank his teeth into the base of her neck, his demonic energy flooding into her lifeless form. His power surged filling the cave, enveloping them both in a swirling, violent vortex of demonic energy. He poured everything he had into her, refusing to allow death to claim her, not like this.

For agonizing moments there was nothing. Her body lay still as he hovered above her with his mouth still pressed to her neck. His aura continued to flow, relentless, desperate.

And then—there it was.

A faint pulse, barely there at first. But it was enough. He pulled away, chin and lips drenched in her blood as his crimson eyes fixed on her pale face as he listened, waiting.

Seconds passed, stretching into eternity. And then, a heartbeat. Slow, weak, but undeniable. Her chest rose with the faintest of breaths.

Sesshoumaru exhaled, his eyes returning to their golden hue as he bent over her, watching the fragile rise and fall of her chest. 

She was alive.

Chapter Text

Sapphire eyes flew open and Kagome bolted upright, gasping as though she'd just been dragged from the depths of drowning. Her chest heaved with frantic, uneven breaths, her lungs burning as panic surged through her veins. Her gaze darted around the room expecting to see the endless void that had consumed her. But instead, sunlight poured through open windows, bathing her surroundings in a golden glow. It was her room—familiar and safe. Yet, no solace came.

Was it all just a nightmare?

The question barely formed before her mind rebelled, flooded with memories of suffocating darkness. The cold certainty of death—those sensations had been real. Too real. She had been ready. Ready to surrender. Ready to let go. And yet... she was here.

Her unsure fingers pressed against the wooden floor, bracing for the familiar agony that had haunted her for months, the sharp aches that reminded her of her slow decay. But none came. The absence of pain was jarring. Her limbs moved with unsettling ease, light and unburdened, as though her body no longer belonged to her.

Something was wrong.

Dazed, Kagome stood and staggered toward her makeshift vanity. Fumbling with trembling hands, she grabbed her compact mirror prying it open. Her breaths came shallow and rapid as her reflection stared back at her—and then a strangled scream tore from her lips.

It was her face, yet it wasn’t.

Her skin glowed unnaturally, smooth and luminous, as though untouched by time or hardship. Her lips were soft and full, painted with a healthy flush that shouldn’t exist. But her eyes—they were the worst. The dull, tired blue she had grown accustomed to was gone, replaced by a piercing, unnatural brightness that didn’t feel like her own.

The reflection wasn’t hers.

This wasn’t Kagome.

The girl in the mirror wasn’t the one who had made peace with death, who had accepted her fate and let go. She was someone else—someone who had no right to exist.

The sound of a door sliding open shattered her spiraling thoughts.

“Kagome!” Inuyasha’s voice was shar panicked. He burst into the room with Tessaiga drawn, his golden eyes scanning for danger. But when his gaze finally landed on her, his sword faltered.

She didn’t turn. Her back remained to him, shoulders dropped as if barely holding herself together. Her hands now clenched tightly in her lap. The compact lay discarded on the floor, a forgotten casualty of her turmoil.

“Kagome…” Inuyasha called again, his voice softer this time, wary, as if any misstep might startle.

Her whisper broke the air like a brittle shard. “Inuyasha.”

The sound sent a chill through him. It wasn’t her voice—it was hollow, distant, like the echo of someone lost in the dark. “What is it? What happened?” he asked as he took a cautious step closer.

Slowly, her head looked up. When she finally turned to him, her expression burned with raw fury, an inferno barely contained. “What did he do to me?” she snarled, the venom in her words cutting deep. “What did Sesshoumaru do?”

The name struck Inuyasha like a blow, and he blinked, momentarily stunned. “Sesshoumaru? Kagome, you’re—”

“Don’t,” she hissed, the word laced with warning. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m okay. Don’t you dare pretend this is fine.”

His jaw tightened, realization slowly setting in. He remembered all too clearly the moment Sesshoumaru had appeared at the village gate three days ago. Drenched in water and blood, the demon lord carried Kagome’s limp body with a grim determination that silenced even Inuyasha’s immediate rage. 

Sesshoumaru had done the unthinkable. He had saved her. But at what cost?

“I—I was gone,” Kagome’s voice broke, dragging Inuyasha from his thoughts. Tears threatened to choke her words as she continued. “I was ready. I was supposed to die, Inuyasha. I was supposed to be free.” Her last word came out like a curse.

“Kagome…” Inuyasha tried again, his voice faltering as he searched for words that might reach her.

“He took that from me,” she spat. “He didn’t save me, Inuyasha—he condemned me!” Her fists struck the floor, the dull thuds carrying the weight of her fury. “I was supposed to be free of this—of the jewel, of everything—and he dragged me back! How dare he? How dare he think he had the right?!”

Her voice rose until the anger gave way to something even more devastating. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, her body wracked with sobs that seemed to tear her apart. “I was ready,” she whispered. “I had made peace with it…”

Inuyasha’s heart clenched. He had always known Kagome to be a fighter, someone who refused to back down. But now, all that strength had crumbled, leaving her broken and hollow. He knelt beside her, his hand hovering over her shoulder, desperate to offer some comfort. 

But the moment his fingers brushed her, she flinched violently, recoiling as though his touch burned. “No!” she cried, shaking her head, her voice cracking. “No, Inuyasha. You don’t get it.”

Her eyes, wide and haunted, looked into his, pleading for him to understand the depth of her despair. “He bound me to him—to this world—and I didn’t have a choice.” Her sobs grew louder, raw and guttural. “I’ll never be free. Not now. Not ever.”

Inuyasha’s throat tightened, guilt clawing at him as he realized the truth she had been forced to face. Sesshoumaru’s decision, his act of so-called salvation, had robbed her of the only solace she had found: freedom.

Her voice, broken and hoarse, trembled with one final whisper. “He had no right…”

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning, as Kagome’s sobs echoed in the silence.

Chapter Text

Lounging beneath the ancient Goshinboku, Sesshoumaru felt the moment Kagome stirred awake. It was subtle at first, a ripple in the atmosphere, but then came the warmth—a sensation that spread through his chest like sunlight breaking through winter clouds. His golden eyes fluttered open as he gazed up into the forest's canopy, the few leaves gently rustling in the breeze. He couldn’t deny his feelings—it was something close to relief. She was alive.

He had given her a piece of himself, a portion of his very soul, to bring her back. It had taken nearly an entire day for him to recover from the exertion, the cost of merging his essence with hers far greater than he had anticipated. He had underestimated just how big her soul had been and how much the jewel had consumed. If he hadn't acted when he did, the Shikon would have devoured her completely, her life extinguished in mere moments.

Her agonizing scream pierced the forest. The sound caused his body to tense. For a brief moment, his instincts urged him to move, to rush to her side. But he forced himself to remain still, his mind swiftly overriding the impulse. 

She doesn't want to see you, the demon reminded himself. Not after what he had done.

He had made the choice to save her, and in doing so, he had taken away her decision. She would hate him for it—he had no illusions about that. And yet, if given the choice again, he knew he would do it without hesitation. He would still save her. 

Even now, Sesshoumaru could sense the turmoil in her spirit, the anger roiling within her as she tried to come to terms with what had been done. He could almost hear her accusations, and could already imagine her fiery gaze when they eventually crossed paths again. She would not be grateful. She would not understand. 

Closing his eyes again, Sesshoumaru exhaled slowly, allowing the calm of the forest to envelop him once more. This wasn’t the first time he had done something he knew others would condemn him for. He had lived his life without seeking validation from others—he had always made choices based on what he believed to be right. This time, though, it was different. It was... complicated. 

His once rigid perception of life and death had softened. Rin. she had been the one who had melted away the icy detachment that had defined him for so long. It was her influence that had planted the seeds of this humanity. She had shown him that life, no matter how fleeting, could be worth cherishing. 

And now, Kagome—Kagome, who had always carried the burden of self-sacrifice on her shoulders—had stirred something similar in him. He wasn’t sure when it had happened. Perhaps it was the quiet strength she had shown when confronting her inevitable fate, or it was the way she had looked at him with those same unwavering eyes, even when she was at her weakest. 

Has he grown soft? Perhaps. But if that softness meant saving a life he deemed valuable, then so be it. He could live with that and hopefully she could as well.

Chapter Text

For nearly a full moon cycle, Sesshoumaru lingered on the edge of the village, his presence nothing more than a shadow among the trees. He felt her emotions pulse through the bond—a never-ending tide of anger, resentment, sadness, and grief. Each day, he sensed the intensity of her fury, the bitterness that burned inside her, and each day, he remained silent, waiting.

Kagome was furious—he knew that. There had been times when she burst from her hut, intent on finding him. But she never crossed the line of the forest. Instead, she stood there, just beyond the treeline, glaring into the dark depths of the woods. After some time she would turn away, but the next day, she’d return, the same betrayal blazing in her eyes.

Finally, weeks after her resurrection, Kagome took the leap, crossing into the forest. She found Sesshoumaru in the place he had remained: at the base of the Goshinboku nestled comfortably within its roots. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back as if he were sleeping. He looked serene, almost content—like everything was as it should be.

The sight sent a surge of anger roaring through Kagome. She yanked off her fur lined slipper and hurled it at him with all her might.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes opened just in time to catch the shoe in midair, his expression barely shifting as he glanced at her. Kagome stood there, her lips twisted in a snarl.

“You ruined everything!” she yelled. She grabbed her other slipper, throwing it at him, but her aim was off. The shoe bounced harmlessly against the trunk beside him.

Sesshoumaru’s gaze remained steady as he picked up the second slipper before he stood and walked toward her and dropped them at her feet.

That was the final straw. The last push she needed to snap. With a guttural scream, she lunged forward, her fists colliding with the armor on his chest. She pushed him, struck him, again and again, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“This is all your fault!” she cried. “I didn’t want this—I didn’t want any of this!” Her voice cracked, her fists pounding against the bone plates of his armor. “I just—” Her voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of her confession breaking through her fury. “I just didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

Sesshoumaru went ridged. Alone? The thought echoed in his mind. How could she have been alone? She was surrounded by companions, friends, those who respected and adored her.

Suddenly, her hand shot up, her palm glowing with a fierce pink light as spiritual energy crackled in the air. She tried to strike him, her hand aimed for his face. But Sesshoumaru caught her wrist effortlessly, his claws wrapping around her with an iron grip.

Kagome stared in horror as her power did nothing—absolutely nothing. The pink energy, merely hovered around his skin, unable to harm him. Sesshoumaru drew her hand closer, pressing it against his cheek. She tried to pull away, but his hold was unyielding.

“Just as your powers cannot harm me, neither can mine harm you,” he murmured. He flexed his claws, green acid dripping from them, the deadly substance sliding down her arm. She braced herself for the searing pain—but there was nothing. No burning, no agony. It was as if it were nothing more than thick tree sap running over her skin. The acid fell to the earth, sizzling as it scorched the grass beneath them. “Our bond ensures it.”

Kagome’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she stared at him, her mind reeling. Bond. It was a cruel, vile word to her, a chain that confined her to him, to this unwanted life. She tried to rip her hand free, her voice filled with venom. “I’d rather die alone than be bound to you.”

Sesshoumaru didn’t flinch, his expression remaining neutral. He brought her hand down from his face, holding it between them as his other hand reached inside his haori. He pulled out the Shikon Jewel—now dull and lifeless. He tipped his hand, letting the small sphere fall into hers.

The moment it touched her skin, the jewel disintegrated, crumbling into a pile of pink dust. Kagome stared at it, stunned. The wind picked up, scattering the dust into the air until there was nothing left. The jewel—her burden—was gone.

She glared up at Sesshoumaru.. “You think destroying the jewel makes this right?” she spat. She finally yanked her hand away only to turn and stormed off, her footsteps echoing through the forest.

Just before she disappeared from view, she paused, her back still to him. “Why can’t I breathe unless I come looking for you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why do I keep having this pressure in my chest?”

“It is the bond,” Sesshoumaru answered. “Until it is complete, we will be drawn to one another. I have allowed you time to adjust, but soon, we must return to the West.”

Kagome turned, her eyes wide. “Return? What do you mean? If it’s not complete, then break it!” She sounded desperate now.

Sesshoumaru shook his head, his golden eyes meeting hers. “It cannot be undone. Our souls are tied, but only by a thread. If we do not complete the bond, we must remain near each other. The bond will compel us, with or without our consent.”

Kagome’s laughter was hollow, a bitter, broken sound. “Consent,” she whispered, her voice dripping with scorn. “You don’t even know what that means.”

With that, she turned and walked away. Sesshoumaru watched her leave, her words echoing in his mind. And not for the first time, he questioned himself—questioned what he had done, and whether this new, broken side of Kagome was something he could ever mend.

Chapter Text

The night air cut through the small hut, cold and indifferent, mirroring Kagome’s mood. She sat at her vanity, staring at the scar on her neck, her fingers trailing its rough edges. Even with the chill seeping through the open windows, she felt nothing. No pain, no sadness, no anger—just the hollow, empty numbness that seemed to have taken over her life.

Inuyasha found her like that when he returned home. “Chiyo made stew and sent it over,” he announced, stepping inside. But the words barely left his mouth before he froze.

The room was dark, eerily silent, and Kagome sat there like a shadow—as if she weren’t really there at all. The container of stew nearly slipped from his grasp.

“The hell, Kagome!” he barked. “You’ll freeze to death if you don’t put some damn clothes on!”

She barely noticed when Inuyasha threw his fire rat robe over her shoulders covering the old tank tops and a pair of tattered shorts she wore. He cursed under his breath, dropping her slippers she had left in the forest at her feet, then moved to get a fire going. He had been doing everything for her since she had woken from her ordeal—tending the house, gathering food, cooking. Normally, he would complain, make a scene out of it, but now? Now he would do anything just to bring life back to her eyes.

“Inuyasha.”

“Hm?” He continued to poke at the kindling, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach.

“What would happen to the bond if I died?” she asked, her tone almost conversational, though far too void to be anything but heartbreaking.

The iron rod fell from his hands with a loud clatter. He stared at her, horror etched into his features. He crossed the room in two strides, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her, desperation bleeding into his voice. “Don’t you dare talk like that, Kagome. Don’t even think it!”

Her expression didn’t shift, her eyes still distant, and he let his hands drop in defeat. A heavy sigh left him as he knelt in front of her. “If… if you died before the bond was completed, Sesshoumaru would probably die too.”

Kagome’s vacant eyes widened just a fraction. “You’re not lying, right? Not just trying to make me stay?”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “What do you take me for? Yes, I’m glad you’re alive, but damn it, Kagome, this isn’t just about you anymore. You’re tied to someone else now—someone who’ll die if you’re gone.”

She looked away, her throat tightening. It was always like this. Her life, always bound to something—Kikyo, the Shikon Jewel. And now… Sesshoumaru. She couldn’t even die on her own terms.

Inuyasha’s voice broke the silence. “I… I followed you earlier when you spoke to him. What did you mean by not wanting to be alone anymore?”

Kagome wrapped the fire rat coat tighter around herself. “I always knew,” she began, her voice distant, “I always knew I’d end up alone. If I lived long enough, that is.” She glanced at his puzzled expression and continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t belong here, Inuyasha. The villagers are kind, but I’m an outsider. And any chance I had at building a life here… it’s gone. I’m seen as too old now. No man in this time wants someone like me.”

“If it’s marriage you want, then—”

“No.” She cut him off sharply, her voice cracking. “No, Inuyasha. I won’t trap you with me. I see how the others look at you—how you spend time with Kesa, help Mittsu, how Chiyo always cooks for you. You could have any of them.”

“What’s your point?” he snapped, his impatience boiling over.

Kagome stood abruptly, dropping the coat and moving around the room, slamming the windows shut. “My point, Inuyasha, is that you have a chance to be happy. Sango and Miroku have their family, even Rin and Kohaku have started their own. You deserve that too! And I… I was supposed to die, so you could be free!” Her voice broke into a near scream, her chest heaving as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Silence fell like a heavy weight as her words hung in the air. Inuyasha’s eyes widened as he watched her crumble in front of him. Slowly, her trembling hands  reached out, slipping the subjugation beads over his head. “I was your burden,” she whispered, “and now, I guess, I’m his.”

Inuyasha stared at her, frozen, his heart pounding. “Kagome… What are you doing?”

She moved with a kind of detached efficiency, gathering her belongings into a small bag. “I’m going West,” she said, her sudden decision shocking the both of them. “I need to figure out how to break this bond, and until then, I can’t stay away from him for long.” She handed Inuyasha his fire rat coat, her gaze softening. “And as much as I hate him for what he’s done, I won’t let him die.”

Inuyasha ignored the coat, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her against him in a desperate embrace. His voice trembled as he whispered into her hair, “Don’t go, Kagome. Just stay with me. Let that bastard deal with his own problems.”

She returned his embrace, her tears soaking into his shirt. “If only…” she choked, “if only I loved you the way you deserve. If only Sesshoumaru hadn’t found me. I always end up dragging everyone down.” She gently pulled away, her heart breaking at the devastated look in his eyes. “I’ll visit, I promise. And if you don’t find someone… come find me in the West. It’d be nice to have a friendly face around”

She left him with nothing but a watery smile, a soft kiss on the cheek, and the beaded necklace lying forgotten on the floor. As she stepped out into the night, the wind howled carrying away the last of her warmth, leaving only a cold emptiness behind.

Chapter Text

When Kagome appeared before Sesshoumaru for the second time that night, he didn’t speak. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, before he stood and began walking west. No words were necessary; the bond between them had already revealed her intentions. After a moment’s hesitation, Kagome fell in step behind him.

The journey stretched into two long weeks. They traveled by foot, the silence between them punctuated only by the sounds of the wilderness. Sesshoumaru never asked if she needed to rest or eat, yet he seemed attuned to her every discomfort. Whenever she grew tired or her steps faltered, he would stop without explanation, settling down with the air of someone simply passing time, waiting patiently until she was ready to continue. At night, he would find somewhere safe and dry for them to camp—sometimes a shallow cave or abandoned hut, other times a secluded grove shielded by trees.

Kagome barely spoke, her only words a quiet question about the nearest hot spring after days of endless travel. Sesshoumaru answered with a curt nod, and less than twenty minutes later, she found herself immersed in steaming waters, washing away the dirt and ache of the day.

As the end of their journey approached, Kagome felt a strange blend of trepidation and curiosity about Sesshoumaru’s home. Would it be something primitive, like Kouga’s den of caves behind a waterfall concealed high in the mountains? Or perhaps a vast estate like that of a human lord, rising several stories with sprawling gardens? She had never imagined Sesshoumaru having a home at all—he had always seemed like a lone figure in her mind, untethered to anything earthly.

By the time Sesshoumaru announced they had arrived, the sun was sinking low, casting the sky in hues of violet and amber over the snow covered ground. Kagome stilled, her eyes widening in awe as she took in the sight before her. It was nothing like she’d imagined.

The large house sat by the edge of a frozen lake, its dark wooden structure standing out against the winter landscape. Its sloping tiled roof was dusted with a thin layer of snow, curving gracefully over the eaves to shed the weight of the season. Weathered wooden beams, carved with scenes of cranes and floral motifs, showcase the intricate craftsmanship used to create them, while the walls were reinforced with iron studs, lending the home a fortress-like quality.

Crossing a nearby bridge Kagome looked on as the icy lake stretched out like a polished mirror, its surface untouched save for a light dusting of snow that collects in gentle ripples where the wind has swept across. Small cracks and frozen bubbles within the lake create intricate patterns, as if winter itself has painted an abstract masterpiece across the water.

Surrounding the water and home, a forest of towering pine and cedar trees stood like silent sentinels, their branches laden with thick blankets of snow. Here and there, the occasional plum or cherry tree, their branches bare and twisted, hint at the vibrant life that will return in spring. They crowded close to the lake’s edge, creating an enclosed, intimate atmosphere, as though shielding the area from the outside world. 

Mountains loom in the distance, their slopes draped in snow and mist, providing a grand yet quiet backdrop. From this view, the lake and house seem embraced by nature, a sanctuary hidden from time. The occasional crow or hawk circles overhead, its cry echoing across the landscape and adding a lonely note to the serene silence.

Chapter Text

Spring arrived like a quiet whisper, weaving color back into the barren land and washing away the last traces of winter’s cold grip. The fresh, dewy mornings should have filled Kagome with a sense of renewal, but instead, they only served as a cruel reminder of how little had changed.

During the chilly months they had discovered the limits of their unnatural tether—the invisible thread that yanked them back together if they strayed too far. Three days. That was all they had before the bond pulled, a reminder that no matter how much they resisted, they could not truly be apart.

Interactions were sparse, dictated by necessity rather than choice. The occasional shared meal when Jaken was away, Kagome bringing food into Sesshoumaru’s study because she felt guilty eating alone. Visits to Rin and her family, where they played the roles of normalcy neither of them truly felt.

But beyond that? Silence. A house filled with unspoken words and fraying patience. A demon lord who refused to let a former ally die, and a priestess who wanted nothing more than to be free of him.

Kagome let out a sigh before she pushed herself up from the porch where she had been watching the sun rise over the mountains. The sight was breathtaking, but it did little to settle the unease she felt.

What was her purpose now?

She had spent so long chasing after something—fighting enemies, searching for jewel shards, running toward a goal. But now there was no quest, no grand mission. Just this house and endless, suffocating days.

Kagome padded back inside, absently trailing her fingers along the smooth wooden walls as she walked. If nothing else, she could appreciate the comfort Sesshoumaru’s home offered. It was a stark contrast to the cramped little hut she had once shared with Inuyasha. This place was grand and refined, a silent reflection of its owner. 

While thinking about the demon lord she realized it had already been two days since he left, his parting words a brief mention of hunting. Kagome had paid little attention. She had learned by now that he came and went as he pleased, offering nothing more than the barest explanations. It wasn’t as though she had any right to demand more or wanted to. 

The further she walked, the stronger the scent of grilled fish and freshly steamed rice became.

Jaken always seemed to return just before Sesshoumaru left for any period of time. Kagome suspected it wasn’t a coincidence—that the demon lord made sure she was never truly alone. She had no proof, of course, and even if she did, she would never admit that she was grateful.

Stepping into the kitchen, she found the imp darting between tasks, his tiny hands busy as he flipped the fish over the fire before hopping over to check on the rice. On the nearby table, a tray lined with small plates held an assortment of side dishes—pickled vegetables, miso soup, simmered greens. It was enough to feed four people, yet only two of them lived here.

"Jaken, you always make too much food," she pointed out, picking up the tray and carrying it into the adjoining room where she usually had her meals.

The imp scoffed while scooping rice into a bowl. "A servant must ensure his lady is well-fed!"

Shaking her head and smiling to herself she asked, "Will you be joining me this morning?" 

"Of course not!" Jaken squawked, puffing up indignantly. "A servant never eats with his lady or lord! How many times must I tell you, stupi—" He coughed, correcting himself with great difficulty. " Lady Kagome?"

Kagome stared at him as he brought over the fish and rice. It was still strange hearing him refer to her with any semblance of respect. Had Sesshoumaru ordered him to do it? Or had Jaken simply sensed what she and Sesshoumaru now shared that bond?

Either way, it was weird. And maybe, just maybe, she missed being called a stupid human.

Chapter Text

It was already dark when Sesshoumaru returned, the house was silent save for the faint crackling of a dying fire.

He moved through the familiar halls, shedding his armor piece by piece, the weight of it slipping away like the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his clothing followed, pooling at his feet as the cool night air brushed against his skin. Flecks of blood still clung to his claws, remnants of his last meal, soon to be erased by the heated bath that awaited him.

For all of Jaken’s incessant noise and grating presence, the imp was a meticulous housekeeper. He anticipated Sesshoumaru’s needs without instruction, ensuring the bath was drawn and steaming, knowing better than to linger after his master had fed.

Sesshoumaru stepped into the water, the heat seeping into his skin, easing the strain from his body. Sinking deeper, he let his arms fall over the rim, head tilting back as his silver hair spilled onto the stone floor. A deep, rumbling sigh vibrated through his chest.

Each time he left Kagome’s side, returning became both a relief and a torment.

At first, he had managed three days before his breath grew shallow, his body bogged down by something unseen as the ache of separation creeping into his bones. Now, he could barely make it through two days before his limbs felt heavy, his lungs burning with the effort of simply existing apart from her. He had not told her this. There was no point—nothing could be done about it, and the knowledge would only add to the strain hanging between them.

He ran a wet hand through his bangs, pushing them back as he exhaled slowly. Being under the same roof was still enough for now, but he was under no illusion that it would remain so.

His beast had begun to stir, no longer content with mere proximity. The pull of his soul had been bearable on its own, but now his instincts clawed at him, whispering demands he tried to ignore. The scent of her lingered on every surface, weaving into his mind, awakening something primal.

Kagome would not accept his advances—not yet. He knew that as well as he knew his own name. But by the time winter returned? Sesshoumaru had a feeling that resistance would become meaningless. The inevitable would come crashing down upon them, and before the cold season’s end, she would no longer be sleeping alone.

Chapter Text

The night stretched endlessly, cloaking the world in velvety darkness. Kagome drifted between wakefulness and sleep, her body exhausted yet her mind restless. When sleep fully claimed her, it was not the dreamless void she had come to expect. Instead, she found herself standing in a place that felt both foreign and strangely familiar.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and cherry blossoms, the whisper of rustling leaves filling the silence. Colossal stone pillars surrounded an open courtyard bathed in the silver glow of the moon. The ground was smooth, well-trodden, and at its center stood a boy—young, yet already formidable. His shirt silver hair caught the light as he moved, small blade in hand, precision laced into every motion. 

Sesshoumaru.

Kagome let out a silent gasp. This wasn’t just a dream—it was a memory. A memory that did not belong to her.

From the depths of the courtyard, a towering figure loomed—golden eyes cold, expression hard. The Great Dog General, Toga. His presence was a force of nature, the sheer magnitude of his aura pressing against Kagome’s senses, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“You hesitate,” the demon lord’s voice rang across the courtyard. “Again.”

The boy’s chin shook, but he obeyed, lifting his sword. His hands trembled ever so slightly as he shifted his stance, feet planting firmly against the ground. He launched forward, blade cutting through the air with lethal grace. But it wasn’t enough. In the blink of an eye, Toga deflected the strike with ease, sending the young Sesshoumaru sprawling to the ground.

A sharp sting of frustration and humiliation shot through Kagome’s chest as though the emotion belonged to her. But it didn’t. It was his.

“Your enemy will not grant you the mercy of failure,” his father intoned. “Control your emotions. Stand up.”

The boy clenched his tiny fists, his body bruised, but his pride far more wounded. His lips pressed into a thin line as he pushed himself up. His father turned away, his broad silhouette illuminated by the moon. “You are my son. Act like it.”

And then he was gone, leaving behind the boy.

Kagome’s heart twisted. She wanted to call out to him, to tell him it was okay and that he wasn’t alone. But before she could take a step, the world around her began to dissolve. The courtyard melted into shadows, the moonlight swallowed by darkness. And then—

She woke up.

Gasping, Kagome bolted upright, her heart slamming against her ribs. The room was still, the first rays of sunlight casting soft yellow hues against the walls. 

She ran a trembling hand down her face, her skin damp with sweat. It had been real. Or at least, real in the way their bond made things real. She had felt his emotions, his pain. A pain she never imagined he had endured. A loneliness she recognized all too well.

Chapter Text

She was staring again.

Sesshoumaru didn’t need to lift his head to know—he had felt her eyes on him for the last several minutes. Eventually, he glanced up from the scroll he’d been trying to read for far longer than he cared to admit, his golden eyes cutting across the quiet of his study. Sure enough, she was watching him, book held open but clearly forgotten in her lap.

The moment their eyes met, Kagome’s face flushed a deep crimson. She blinked rapidly and whipped her head back down, suddenly very invested in the page she hadn’t turned in ten minutes.

Sesshoumaru stared at her for a moment longer, brow slightly furrowed.

Something had changed. She had begun lingering more—drifting into his space with idle excuses, sharing meals without Jaken’s absence to justify it, asking him mundane questions she already knew the answers to. It wasn’t unwelcome, not exactly. In fact, it was preferable to the silence that had stretched between them for weeks after her resurrection. But still… It was strange.

He didn’t trust it.

There had been no lashing out, no bitter remarks, no biting tension. Just a cautious calm. A quiet truce. And it unsettled him.

Sesshoumaru exhaled in a long sigh. Whatever had shifted in her, it wasn’t his doing. He returned his gaze to the scroll in his hands, though he found the words no easier to concentrate on than before.

Meanwhile, Kagome sat curled up on a low couch, with a neglected book still taking up space in her lap. Her eyes moved across the words, but none of them registered. The book had become a prop—an excuse to be in the same room.

Sleep had become a minefield. Every night for the past week, fragments of Sesshoumaru’s memories had bled into her dreams.

The most haunting was the one where he couldn’t have been more than fifteen, seated at the far end of a vast, ornate dining hall. The food before him was lavish, the room glittering with gold and candlelight—but he was completely alone. No voices. No footsteps. Just the soft clinking of utensils and the overwhelming silence swallowing everything else.

Another night brought an even more gut-wrenching image—a toddler with moonlight hair, tiny hands reaching out for a figure sweeping past in silken robes. Kagome couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she knew. It was his mother. Her stride never slowed. The little boy never cried. He simply lowered his arms and stood there, as if he already understood that he wasn’t meant to be held.

Each dream carved itself deeper into her, leaving behind a growing ache. Sesshoumaru—so calm, so unreadable—had spent most of his life in isolation. That much was clear now. The coldness she had always taken as arrogance might have been something else entirely.

It was Rin, she realized, who had shattered that pattern. The little girl who saw through the demon and reached into the silence he'd long accepted as permanent.

Now, here Kagome was, tangled in a bond she hadn’t asked for, carrying pieces of his past like they were her own.

And the worst part?

She didn’t want to care. But she was starting to.

And that terrified her.

Chapter Text

“Hikaru is growing so fast!” Kagome laughed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she and Rin strolled through the slayer village’s sun-dappled paths. Children’s laughter echoed in the distance, and the air smelled faintly of wildflowers and fresh rice.

“I know,” Rin sighed with a smile, veering toward a produce stall. “Sometimes it feels like I blink and he’s already outgrowing another set of clothes.”

Kagome plucked a few bright red radishes from a woven basket, weighing them thoughtfully in her hand. “Have you thought about having another?”

Rin paid the vendor then resumed walking, her expression unreadable. “It’s still too soon to say,” she admitted. “As you know there were complications with Hikaru’s birth… I’m not sure I want to risk it again.” 

They followed a narrow path winding alongside a quiet stream when Rin suddenly said with a huff, “But Lady Mother certainly has an opinion. Last time she visited, she made it very clear she expects more children. Told me I needed to learn from her mistakes. ‘An heir and a spare,’ she said, like Kohaku and I are some noble dynasty preparing to pass on titles and lands.”

Kagome came to a sudden stop, blinking at Rin’s back. Lady Mother? What?

Jogging to catch up, she grabbed Rin’s arm gently. “Wait… do you mean Sesshoumaru’s mother?”

“Of course,” Rin replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kagome’s mind reeled. That was news . In all her time around Sesshoumaru, she’d never once heard him speak of his parents—especially not his mother. The only glimpse she’d ever had of the demoness was through the fragmented pieces of Sesshoumaru’s memories in her dreams: a tall figure in flowing silk, walking away from a child who needed her.

Why would someone who hadn’t so much as looked back at her own son suddenly take an interest in Rin’s family?

A strange knot twisted in Kagome’s stomach as they walked, the silence stretching between them like a thread pulled too tight. She wanted to ask more but it wasn’t her place. Not when her heart was still caught in the snare of wanting freedom.

And worse—she had nowhere else to go. No escape route that didn’t carry consequences. If she left, if she forced distance between them, the bond would fight back. It would hurt them both.

She’d scoured his library, every last scroll and book that even hinted at mating lore, and found nothing useful. Nothing that told her how to sever a bond without destroying the soul it linked to. If an answer existed, it was elsewhere.

“He’s surprisingly good with babies, isn’t he?”

Rin’s soft voice broke through her thoughts.

Kagome followed her gaze across the stream, and her breath was stolen.

Under the shade of a massive tree, Sesshoumaru sat reclined against the trunk, his eyes closed. In his arms, Hikaru lay fast asleep, a tiny bundle nestled safely against the silken folds of his haori. The picture they made was enough to make Kagome’s chest ache.

It wasn’t just surprising. It was devastating. Because as long as he was bound to her, Sesshoumaru would never have children of his own.

That truth clamped around her ribs like a vice.

Even as the thought echoed hollowly through her mind, Rin’s voice interpreted her brooding.

“I don’t know what kind of relationship you two have,” she said with sincerity, “but I hope that one day you’ll start a family too.”

Kagome’s head snapped toward her, startled by the words, but Rin wasn’t looking at her—she was still watching Sesshoumaru, her expression soft, wistful. Hopeful.

It was that hope that twisted the knife.

Kagome said nothing. She couldn’t crush Rin’s dream. Not today. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have to.

Eventually.

Chapter Text

“I don’t know what kind of relationship you two have, but I hope that one day you’ll start a family too.”

Sesshoumaru had heard every word.

From across the stream and his eyes seemingly closed in rest, he had listened to the women’s conversation—and more than that, he had felt it. Every flicker of emotion that passed through Kagome, every uneasy shift in her thoughts, rippled through the bond they shared like a breeze brushing against his skin.

As the soft sound of their footsteps faded and they disappeared into Rin and Kohaku’s hut, Sesshoumaru slowly opened his eyes and looked down at the child nestled into him. Hikaru had gone strangely docile in his presence of late, something Sesshoumaru did not question but quietly appreciated. He much preferred soft babbles and sleep-heavy sighs to wailing cries and the unavoidable messes of infancy.

Procreation had always been a distant notion, an inevitability, perhaps, but not a desire. Something he might consider for legacy, for duty. But never with Kagome. And from what he had just sensed, she had no intention of it either.

A breath escaped him as his head tilted back against the bark of the tree. No doubt his mother would soon hear whispers of their bond—if she hadn’t already. Rin had a way of speaking freely, especially when excited, and his mother had a way of showing up precisely when least desired. Though the demoness had softened with age, doting over Rin and fussing over Hikaru as though they were blood, Sesshoumaru could not predict how she might respond upon discovering that he had bound himself— his soul —to a human.

He didn’t fear her judgment. But he did not look forward to it either.

“Rin said it’s time for Hikaru to feed.” The voice was soft and it tugged him from his thoughts.

His eyes snapped open, and there she was—Kagome, standing a few steps away, her hands fidgeting at her sides. She glanced between him and the child in his arms.

Sesshoumaru made no move to hand the child over, but when she took a cautious step forward and knelt beside him, he allowed it.

Carefully, she lifted the boy from him. Hikaru squirmed for a heartbeat, grumbled, then settled almost immediately, pressing his cheek to Kagome’s shoulder with a tiny sigh.

She didn’t speak again. Simply stood, adjusted the blanket around the boy, and turned away, walking down the path toward the hut.

Sesshoumaru watched her go, his golden eyes fixed on the slope of her shoulders, the curve of her back and the child’s dark head rested against her shoulder. And then, without warning, an image struck him—unbidden and vivid.

Kagome, standing in his garden at dawn, dressed in pale robes that fluttered in the morning breeze. Her hands rested over the curve of a growing belly, her eyes radiant and full of light. She was smiling, soft and open in a way he hadn’t seen in too long.

In that vision, the world was still. Warm. Whole.

And Sesshoumaru realized, with startling clarity, that he did not despise that thought.

Not at all.

Chapter Text

Sesshoumaru felt impossibly heavy, as if his entire body had been forged from stone and pinned to the bedding beneath him. He lay in his chambers, the familiar shadows of the shoji doors stretched long across the walls, and yet nothing felt right. His limbs refused to obey him, no matter how many times he commanded them . Even breathing felt like something done through another’s body. 

Then the doors slid open.

He managed to lift his head a fraction, the effort immense, and what he saw froze his thoughts entirely.

Kagome.

She stood in the doorway, framed by candlelight, her hair unbound and cascading over her shoulders like dark silk. A thin yukata clung to her form, loosely tied at the waist in a suggestive way, wholly unlike her usual attire. It brushed her knees as she stepped inside, each movement almost dreamlike.

He opened his mouth, a thousand questions on his tongue— What are you doing? Are you hurt? Is something wrong? —but no sound escaped. His voice had abandoned him.

His gilded eyes followed her approach, wide and locked on the sway of her hips, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath feet. She stopped at the foot of his bed, and with one pull of her fingers, the sash fell away and the robe parted like water.

Time thickened. He couldn’t look away. Her bare skin glowed softly , curves bathed in silver shadow, and his breath caught as she crawled onto the bed. Her knees sank into the mattress at either side of his hips, and he felt her settle atop him like a second gravity.

He was still trying to move—to say something, anything —but the force holding him down only relented when her hands touched his chest.

Like glass shattering—he broke free.

His own hands flew up, gripping her waist, desperate to ground himself in this strange dreamscape.

“What are you—” he began, but the words caught in his throat and died.

Because she changed right before his eyes. 

Her body morphed—not violently, not abruptly—but subtly, beautifully. The smooth plane of her abdomen gave way to a soft, full curve. A swell that could only mean one thing.

Pregnancy.

Kagome’s eyes never left his—warm, unreadable, and shining with something he’d never seen before. She took his hand and guided it to the curve of her stomach. Sesshoumaru's palm settled over the swell, and heat bloomed against his skin.

What he felt was impossibly real.

A slow, rhythmic pulse beneath her flesh, like the heartbeat of something fragile and new. The scent of her skin wrapped around him. How her body pressed against his, her backside settling atop the hardness he'd only just begun to notice.

His throat tightened.

Her lips began to descend toward his, full and parted, breath mingling with his in the space between them. The world tunneled to just this: the warmth of her belly under his hand, the sweet hitch in her breath, the visceral tug of longing low in his gut.

And then—he woke.

Sesshoumaru shot upright with a jerk, his lungs drawing in morning air as golden light sliced through the cracked window. His pupils contracted painfully, adjusting to the brightness, and for a moment, he remained frozen—still feeling the echo of her, the phantom touch she left behind.

Disoriented, he dragged a clawed hand through his hair, bangs falling into his eyes as he tried to shake the lingering illusion.

What was that?

Was it a vision of the future? A twisted dream conjured by the soul-bond they shared? He had never experienced anything like it. Their connection had always been a physical thread—painful when stretched, constant like breath. But this? This had slipped past his defenses and bled into his dreams like a whispered promise he didn’t ask for.

And yet… it hadn’t felt intrusive. It had felt—dangerously tempting.

Since their last visit with Rin, everything between them had shifted again. The quiet understanding they’d begun to cultivate had crumbled under the weight of a single conversation he wasn’t meant to hear. Kagome had withdrawn, her presence near him reduced to what was necessary and nothing more.

And now, after a week of silence and sidelong glances, the bond dared to invade his unconscious mind—feeding him fantasies he had no right entertaining.

Chapter Text

Kagome was bored.

Sesshoumaru had left early that morning to go hunting, and by mid-afternoon she was sprawled on the engawa like a sun-fatigued lizard, her limbs splayed out and cheek mashed against the polished wood. She huffed a sigh that stirred a strand of her hair and glared up at the sky.

Apparently, actively avoiding a demon lord all week had been more exhausting than she realized. And then Jaken had taken Ah-Un and gone to check in on Rin after their recent visit. That left Kagome alone. Without Sesshoumaru to dance around or Jaken to argue with, the house was too still. 

Her thoughts drifted—unwelcome—to her last conversation with Rin. She hadn’t meant for the guilt to linger this long, but it clung to her just like the sweat on the back of her neck. The girl’s gentle words, her open hope… it had only made Kagome feel worse.How could she tell Rin she was desperately searching for a way to sever a soul-bond that could kill them both?

Groaning, she sat up and stared toward the forest beyond the lake. Sesshoumaru had built his estate near a peaceful woodland, but she’d barely seen any of it. Perhaps today was the perfect day to change that.

Within minutes, she’d packed a small satchel with a few apples and a full waterskin, tying it to her hip. Her footsteps were light as she crossed the arched bridge. Sunlight glinted off the surface of the lake, and the wind teased her hair as she stepped into the forest. The temperature dropped pleasantly beneath the shade of the canopy, and Kagome took in a deep breath. 

She hadn’t expected to see so much life. A family of deer stood just beyond a thicket, pausing only briefly to glance her way before continuing their grazing. A plump rabbit hopped cautiously toward her, nose twitching making Kagome smile. Rin must’ve fed the wildlife during her time there.

Settling against a mossy log, she pulled out an apple and her small knife, slicing pieces to share. The rabbit was the first to accept her offering, soon followed by a pair of curious squirrels and, surprisingly, a round tanuki who waddled out from behind a tree stump like he owned the place.

By the time her meager supplies were gone, her spirit felt lighter. Her limbs no longer dragged with heaviness. Even the guilt, though still present, had quieted under the hush of the forest.

Brushing off her hands, she stood with a stretch and turned to head back. As she thought about what to cook for dinner a ripple of energy prickled along her senses.

Kagome froze, instincts honed from years of danger suddenly flaring to life. A familiar aura—fast and unmistakable—surged toward her. She spun on her heel just in time to glimpse a blur of brown and black crashing through the trees.

Before she could react, strong arms were around her, sweeping her clean off the forest floor.

“Kagome!”

Her breath was nearly knocked out of her. “Kouga?!”

He was grinning like a lunatic, all wild hair and sharp teeth, spinning her once in an excited arc before setting her down. His scent hit her next—a stormy blend of pine, sweat, and wolf—strong and unchanged, like no time had passed at all.

“What are you doing here?” Kagome gasped, dazed and breathless.

“When I came by that village you used to live in, the mutt told me you’d moved west.” Kouga leaned in, his nose brushing close as he took a series of long sniffs. His piercing blue eyes narrowed, and then he recoiled like he’d been slapped. “Though he conveniently forgot to mention you’d taken a mate.”

The shift in his posture was immediate—his hands dropped from her waist and he stepped back. The distance between them felt colder than the shade of the forest, and Kagome’s heart sank.

“It’s not like that,” she blurted, reaching out instinctively, desperate to hold on to this sliver of familiarity. “Kouga, wait—things are… complicated.” Her voice cracked and anxiety buzzed like static in her chest. “Please, just come back to the house. I’ll make us something to eat, and I’ll explain everything—”

She didn’t get to finish.

In the space between heartbeats, silver streaked through the clearing. Kouga was launched backwards like a rag doll, the force sending him crashing into a thick tree trunk with a bone-rattling crack that echoed through the forest.

Kagome barely had time to react before her own feet left the ground again—this time hoisted not by a friend but by the source of Kouga’s sudden flight.

Sesshoumaru.

His arm was locked around her waist like a vice. His eyes glowed with a rage she hadn’t witnessed since fighting Naraku. The air around them shimmered and the energy pulsing off him made her body freeze in his hold.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Chapter Text

The instant even a flicker of fear sparked through their shared bond, Sesshoumaru moved.

He had not strayed far—just enough distance to hunt, enough to grant her space—but that single spike of panic in Kagome’s soul ignited every instinct he possessed. He turned, already sprinting through the trees before logic could follow. But as he closed in, that fear softened into joy, and then something heavier. Regret.

The moment a new scent reached him, his vision bled red.

A wolf. Another alpha was not only near his territory but close enough to touch her.

His body reacted before his thoughts could catch up. One heartbeat, and then another, and the fool was airborne, ripped from Kagome’s side and sent crashing through the forest like discarded prey. Sesshoumaru didn’t even register his own movement—only that his arms were suddenly full of Kagome, her familiar weight pressed to his chest, her scent washing over him in waves.

She was safe. And he was ready to kill to keep it that way.

That was until Kagome's elbow jabbed him in the ribs with a surprising amount of force and she wriggled free from his grasp. "Let me go!" she shouted, scrambling out of his hold with a fury he hadn’t expected.

What he saw next rooted him to the spot.

She ran to the wolf. To him.

She dropped to her knees beside the crumpled figure. Her hands flew over him, checking him, brushing his hair from his face, touching him with a tenderness that carved a slow, searing line of pain through Sesshoumaru's chest.

It was irrational. Unfounded. Agonizing.

The only solace was that the wolf finally seemed to come to his senses. Muttering an apology and wisely avoiding Sesshoumaru’s gaze, The male stumbled backward, mumbling something about how he hadn’t known she was claimed, before disappearing into the trees.

Sesshoumaru didn’t chase him. He didn’t have to. The damage was already done.

Now they were home again. And Kagome was furious.

She stormed through the house like a brewing kettle about to blow, cheeks flushed with indignation, her aura practically crackling. Sesshoumaru stood near the door, arms loose at his sides, and waited for the inevitable.

It came like thunder.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, spinning around to glare at him, eyes wild as she scanned the room for something throwable—and preferably not breakable. Her hand hovered over a basket before shoving it aside. “Kouga is my friend!"

Sesshoumaru said nothing at that. What could he say? That he hadn’t thought, only acted? That the scent of another male still lingered in his nose and he wanted to rip down trees to burn it away?

“For a moment, I was happy. Just… happy to see someone that was mine. Not yours, not part of your pack, not someone who looks at me like I’m something that doesn’t belong here. Just Kouga, my idiot wolf friend who used to bicker with Inuyasha and made me feel—normal.” She let out a stuttered exhale, wiping at her eyes before tears could fall, but her voice betrayed her. “And you ruined that too.”

Sesshoumaru stood silent, hands slack at his sides, the subtle clench of his jaw the only sign that her words struck anything beneath his stone still surface.

“I’m lonely, Sesshoumaru,” she snapped, spinning around to face him, tears now falling freely. “I don’t have anyone here. Not really. Rin’s sweet but she’s your daughter. Jaken follows you. Everyone here is yours.” Her breath hitched, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. “And you—you're stuck with me. I feel it every time you look at me like you’re trying to convince yourself this is fine. That I’m fine.”

He flinched, barely—but she saw it.

“I have no purpose here,” she whispered, the fight draining from her limbs as she backed toward a wall, sinking slowly to the floor like a threadbare cloth collapsing under its own weight. “No shrine to tend. No school to finish. No battles to fight. I just cook and read and wait around like I’m playing house in someone else’s story.”

Sesshoumaru took a small step forward. His voice, when it came, was surprisingly quiet. “If you wish, we can visit Rin again. Soon. Tomorrow, even.”

But instead of calming her, his words lit something volatile in her chest that he felt in his very soul.

Her head snapped up, eyes red and raw. “That’s not the point!” she snapped. “I shouldn’t need to ask you for that. I shouldn’t have to wait for you to agree for me to see someone I care about. I shouldn’t have to be afraid to leave this house without you because our bond might hurt you!” Her voice rose, hoarse and helpless, each word unraveling something that had been tightly bound in her chest. “Every time I think I’m starting to accept this—when I finally think I’m finding my footing—something like this happens. You throw someone across a forest or I realize I haven’t spoken to a soul outside of your little pack in weeks—and I’m just—”

Her voice broke. She clutched at her chest, fingers digging into the fabric of her clothes as if trying to physically keep herself from falling apart. Her breathing quickened as the beginnings of a panic attack bloomed behind her ribs.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she whispered, her voice a fragile tremor in the silence that followed. “And it’s not just this, Sesshoumaru.” She waved a shaky hand between them. “It’s the conversation I had with Rin. About what kind of life I could possibly give someone when I don’t even know if I belong in this one. Because I don’t even know who I am anymore.” 

She let out a bitter laugh, shaky and hollow. “And at night—” her voice cracked, quieter now, but every word carved deep. “Even in my dreams, I can’t get away. It’s all your memories. Your life. Places I’ve never been, feelings I don’t understand—like my own mind doesn’t even belong to me.” Back pressed against the wall, head in her hands as tears finally slipped through her fingers. “I don’t get to escape. Not even for a minute. And I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since Sesshoumaru had sent Jaken away to deliver missives—two long, heavy weeks filled with silence, frustration, and a growing unease that pressed into the bones of the once-proud demon lord. In all that time, Kagome had barely left her room.

Getting her to come out voluntarily had become his latest—and perhaps most delicate—battle.

He tried simple things at first. Cooking human food, for instance. A humiliating task he would never admit aloud, especially considering the results. Overcooked rice that clung together like paste and fish so burnt it crumbled to ash at the first touch. But she came. Not during the day, never when he was around. Yet late into the night, when the house was still and the shadows were long, he’d hear the quiet creak of the kitchen door and soft footsteps padding across the floor.

She thought he was asleep. He wasn’t.

Like her, he hadn’t slept well. But unlike her, it wasn’t the torment of his memories that kept him awake—it was her. Or rather, her confession: that when she dreamed, it wasn’t herself she saw, but him. His life, his past, playing like kabuki theater behind her eyes. He hadn’t known. Not until she said it with shaking hands and tear-glossed eyes. And now every night he stayed up wondering what it was she saw. What part of his long, bloodstained history haunted her in the dark?

But his own dreams were no more forgiving.

When sleep finally did come, it brought phantoms, not of memory. Of her smiling freely as she held his hand beneath the blossoms. Of her whispering his name sweetly like a prayer. Of her lips parting under his and her body curling into him with a sigh that felt like belonging.

They weren’t memories. They were longings. Visions of what might have been, what still could be, if only they both surrendered to the fate he had tethered them with.

But she had withdrawn. Her walls had returned, higher and colder than before, and Sesshoumaru, for all his strength, knew better than to try and shatter them by force. He had hurt her, again. And though she never said it aloud, the distance between them had deepened, leaving a void he could not cross on his own.

But this time… he didn’t have to wait long before something began to chip away at those barriers, brick by brick.

It happened on a bright morning that smelled of dew and warm earth. The ripple of a mischievous aura reached across the silence of their home like a breeze carrying hope.

The fox had arrived. One of his letters had reached its mark.

Kagome’s energy changed the moment the familiar aura brushed against the outer edges of her room. In the next breath, Sesshoumaru heard the soft thunder of her footsteps racing down the hall.

She burst through the house as her bare feet pounding the wood, hair flying behind her in a black ribbon. Without a moment's hesitation she leapt from the porch, dashed across the bridge, and threw herself at the figure waiting on the path.

Shippo caught her with a squeak of surprise before laughter overtook him, both of them tumbling into a mess of tangled limbs and delighted sobs. She clung to him like a lifeline, and he clung right back.

Sesshoumaru stepped out onto the porch, watching from the doorway she’d left hanging open in her wake. The sun cast golden highlights across her face as she stood and twirled the kitsune in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He had grown. The fox-child who once fit easily beneath her chin now stood nearly as tall as her chest, his voice deeper, though no less exuberant.

Even as Kagome wore her reactions so openly, Sesshoumaru still felt them all.

The surprise. The joy. The heartbreak. The ache. The hope. It washed over him through their bond like spring rain after a drought. All of Kagome’s emotions flooded him with a bittersweet intensity that made his chest tighten. It was like taking a breath after being buried underground. Like watching a wilted flower bloom again beneath sunlight.

He felt her happiness. And it hurt. Because she had needed this so badly, and he had been powerless to give it to her.

In this moment, Kagome was no priestess lost in time, no reluctant soul bound to a demon lord. She was just a girl who had missed her family. And he would do anything to keep that light in her eyes from fading again.

Chapter Text

The days that followed blossomed like flowers in spring, each one filled with tender moments that began stitching the frayed edges of Kagome’s heart back together.

One morning, beneath a sky brushed with soft clouds and the lazy hum of cicadas, Kagome and Shippo set up easels near the pond. The water shimmered, reflecting the weeping willows and the darting paths of dragonflies. With sleeves rolled up and brushes in hand, they set about painting the quiet scene before them.

Kagome focused intently, tongue poking out in concentration as she blended shades of green and blue across her canvas.

Beside her, Shippo tilted his head at his own work—a blotchy green blob with awkward brown lines shooting from the base.

“This is a tree,” he announced when he noticed Kagome staring at it rather thoughtfully..

She leaned in, squinting at the painting with a teasing smile. “Are you sure? It’s giving me very strong broccoli vibes.”

“I don’t know what that is!” he huffed while waving his brush dramatically and accidentally smearing more green across the canvas. “It’s a tree caught in a dramatic wind! Obviously.”

Her laughter burst out before she could stop it, echoing across the clearing like a song. It was the first time in weeks she’d laughed like that.

Another evening, after twilight had settled over the land, Shippo rummaged through his bag to reveal a small stash of sparklers and fireworks he’d brought from school. As the first stars appeared overhead, they lit the fuses near the edge of the water. Golden sparks danced in their hands, and streaks of color arched into the sky with joyful shrieks. Kagome twirled a sparkler in wide loops, its crackling light painting her smile in gold. Shippo whooped with delight when his firework spiraled wildly, leaving trails of green and red.

Unbeknownst to them, high above on the tiled roof, Sesshoumaru sat with a cup of sake in hand. His golden eyes reflected the bursts of color in the sky, each crackling explosion mirrored in their depths. The soft hum of their laughter below drifted upward, mingling with the scent of gunpowder and summer grass. He sipped slowly, eyes never leaving the scene. He told himself it was vigilance that kept him there. But really, it was his own way of indulging in the private moments between mother and adopted son. To be part of something that wasn’t quite his yet.

The rest of their time together slipped by in a quiet rhythm that felt almost like healing. Some afternoons they stretched out on the engawa, the sun warming their backs while Kagome read aloud from one of the old novels she’d found tucked away in Sesshoumaru’s library. Shippo curled beside her, tail flicking lazily, occasionally chiming in with antidotes about one of his classes. She listened with growing awe at how much he was learning, her fingers drifting through his hair the way she used to when he was small. As she watched the wonder light up his face, her heart swelled with pride.

He was becoming someone extraordinary.

Before either of them realized it, the time came for the fox to return to school. Kagome smiled through their last day together, offering bright words and promises of letters and visits, but both demons felt the change. The undercurrent of anxiety was creeping back into her chest like a returning tide.

That night, once she had finally succumbed to sleep, her fingers tightly around Shippo’s body, the kit lay beside her for a long while, listening to her breathing. Only when it evened out did he gently wriggle free from the iron grip she’d unknowingly held him in, brushing a kiss to her brow before slipping out into the halls.

Paws padded across polished floors and through sliding doors until the faint scent of smoke guided him to one of the inner gardens. There, beneath the moonlight, Sesshoumaru sat cross-legged among the stones, smoking from a long kiseru. The silvery trails of demonic tobacco curled in intricate spirals above him, twisting and dancing like spirits in the air.

Shippo paused in the shadows, briefly mesmerized. The smoke didn’t rise so much as it moved—alive with magic, curling through the branches and winding around the demon lord’s form as if drawn to his power.

“Have you come to stare?” Sesshoumaru asked, voice low, breaking the silence without looking.

Shippo startled, tail twitching. “No—well, kind of.”

Golden eyes slid to him then. “What is it, kit?”

Chapter Text

The fox hesitated for a moment, his toes tapping softly against the wooden as moonlight spilled across the garden. Then he stepped forward, face more serious than it had been all week. The warmth and laughter of the past few days still lingered in his eyes, but now they shimmered with maturity earned far too young.

“I wanted to thank you,” Shippo said quietly. “For saving her. And for not giving up on her.”

Sesshoumaru said nothing at first. Smoke drifted lazily from his pipe, curling through the night like a living thread, bridging the space between them. The slight tilt of his head—thoughtful, not dismissive—was enough to show he was listening. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm. “My letter said little. You spoke with the half-breed.”

Shippo nodded. “Yeah. I stopped by the village on my way here. Inuyasha told me everything. About what happened... how you found her. What it cost you to bring her back.” The kit rubbed the back of his neck. “I also wanted to ask... what are your intentions? With Kagome. With the bond.”

A breeze stirred the trees, brushing past them. Sesshoumaru tapped the ash from his pipe, then turned to look at him. “That,” he said slowly, “is a question I am still answering.”

Shippo nodded, accepting the answer for what it was. Not a promise. Not a refusal. But the truth. Still, the disappointment was hard to hide.

When he’d arrived in Inuyasha’s village, it had only been to confirm what the letters didn’t say aloud—that Kagome was truly gone from the home she once loved. Her scent no longer lingered in the trees or clung to the doorway of her hut. And when found Inuyasha and asked about her, the only answer he got was a scowl and a grumbled order to wait until the roof was fixed.

Eventually, after some arguing, Inuyasha climbed down and talked. Really talked. What he told Shippo left the young fox gutted.

The sleepless nights. The jewel’s slow, agonizing corruption of her body. The way she kept smiling even as she faded. And through it all, she never let on. Not once.

Shippo remembered her letters—lighthearted, full of stories and pride over his studies. Not a word of her pain. Not even a hint. It had stung, at first. Like she didn’t trust him. But then Inuyasha said something that changed everything.

“She wanted you to be free,” he sighed. “Said you deserved a clean start. Said worrying about her wouldn’t change anything, so why burden you?”

And it was true. While Kagome had been suffering, Shippo had been living the life she’d fought to give him. The Fox Academy. His new friends. His future.

She had given it to him. And Sesshoumaru had given her back.

Shippo had made his way west with dozens of questions—about death, resurrection, and what it meant to be tied to someone like Sesshoumaru. But the second he saw Kagome running to him, that radiant smile on her face, those questions died on his lips.

He didn’t want to be the one to steal that joy from her again.

Which left him here, talking to the male who had done what none of them could. The one who had brought Kagome back when some hadn’t even realized she was gone.

Sesshoumaru exhaled another plume of smoke, his face unreadable. But Shippo didn’t look away. Because for all his aloofness, Sesshoumaru cared. More than he let on. The fox could see it in the way he moved, in the way he never once interrupted their time together. In how he observed from a distance, like someone keeping watch rather than keeping out. This was the same demon lord who had once allowed a human child to follow him. Who had shielded her, taught her, and—though he’d never say it aloud—loved her.

For that, Shippo was grateful.

He hadn’t missed the fact that Kagome and Sesshoumaru never shared the same space while he was visiting. Not once. Not even a glance. Whatever complications bound them together could be unraveled later. For now, it was enough to know she was alive, safe, and cared for.

Still, something occurred to him. Maybe someday, he’d come back and find things different. Maybe Kagome would smile more, laugh louder. Maybe she’d find her place again. Maybe even… have a little one running around. The thought made him smile despite himself.

Quietly, he asked, “Will you write again? If something happens? Or if she... needs me?”

He meant to sound grown. Responsible. But his voice cracked at the end, betraying the part of him still scared of losing her.

Sesshoumaru didn’t answer immediately. Only the rustle of leaves and the hum of night surrounded them. Then, extinguishing his pipe, he stood and stepped forward. Even grown, Shippo still had to tilt his head to meet his eyes. 

“I will send regular correspondence, so that you remain informed.” he said, voice low and with a slight rumble. A pause, then his gaze turned to the darkness behind the kit. “Now, go back to bed. The priestess is looking for you.”

Shippo’s tail twitched, his eyes going wide. Without another word, he turned and bolted down the corridor on all fours.

Chapter Text

The forest was cloaked in near-total darkness, the towering canopy above swallowing any trace of moonlight or starlight. Kagome stood in the shadows, breath held tight in her chest as she witnessed another one of Sesshomaru's memories. The silence was not peaceful—it was thick and wrong, broken only by the grotesque crunch of bones and low, guttural snarls echoing through the trees. She turned toward the noise and froze.

A pack of wolves circled something unmoving on the forest floor. Limbs twisted unnaturally, dark hair and clothing matted with blood. A child.

Kagome’s heart dropped into her stomach. Panic surged through her, and she nearly bolted forward to chase them off, but then a familiar presence passed by her in a blur of white silk and steel.

Sesshoumaru.

Still clad in the cracked, bloodied armor from his battle with Inuyasha. Kagome felt something change the moment he laid eyes on the child’s broken body. A flicker of recognition. There was no rage or grief on his face. Just cold calculation as he stared down at the corpse, the wolves scattering after a single, searing glare. Their snarls turned to whimpers as they fled into the night.

Jaken came scampering up as he examined the corpse. He nudged her side with the end of his staff and declared, “She’s dead, Lord Sesshoumaru. Poor thing. Do you know this human?”

Sesshoumaru’s voice cut through the night, as cold and detached as it had been the day they first met. “No.” He turned from the girl’s lifeless body and began to walk away.

Kagome’s fists balled at her sides. Her body trembled with disbelief. “You liar!” she shouted at him.

He halted and his head tilted slightly, as if listening to a sound no one else could hear. Then, slowly, he turned his head and looked directly at her. Her breath caught. It wasn’t possible—this was his memory, not hers. But Sesshoumaru’s golden eyes locked onto hers with what looked like unnerving clarity. 

Just as Kagome took a step back an image flashed through her mind unbidden—a smiling girl with missing teeth and a face marred by bruises. Rin. And then here it was—regret. Subtle and fleeting, but it was enough.

Sesshoumaru turned away from her and returned to the girl. The light of Tenseiga shimmered as he drew it. Kagome saw the servants of the underworld, slithering and shrieking around the girl's spirit, preparing to drag her away.

The demon lord would not allow it. He stepped into their realm, slashing the sword through their ranks with divine purpose. The underworld recoiled. The servants screamed and vanished. He knelt down, scooped the lifeless girl into his arm, and held her gently.

Kagome felt it the instant Rin’s heart began to beat again. It echoed through her own body—overwhelming, and achingly beautiful.

Beside him, Jaken squawked in disbelief, but Sesshoumaru didn’t speak. He only looked down as Rin’s eyes fluttered open, wide and dazed, locking onto the face of the demon who had pulled her back from death.

At that moment, Kagome understood. This was where it all began, where the impenetrable Lord of the Western Lands allowed the first crack to splinter through his armor. Where a dead child breathed again, and with her return, the long, slow thawing of a frozen heart began.

Tears welled, unbidden and hot. Kagome wasn’t meant to see this. She wasn’t meant to feel this. Yet the bond made it impossible not to.

As Sesshoumaru stood in the center of that forest, the girl cradled close, the edges of the vision blurred. The world dissolved into black as Kagome was pulled from the memory and back into her body.

Her eyes fluttered open, sticky with tears. Cool moonlight filtered through the screens, catching the glisten on her cheeks. She wiped them away with shaking hands, trying to steady her breath. Instinctively, her fingers reached out beside her—searching for warmth, for comfort—but found only the cold press of rumpled bedding. And then she remembered, Shippo was gone. Back at the academy. 

The ache of absence bloomed in her chest. Loneliness gripped her like a vise. Before she knew what she was doing, her body was already moving. Down dark halls she padded barefoot, led by the faint flicker of candlelight spilling from the half-open door of Sesshoumaru’s study. She didn’t pause. Didn’t knock. Her hand pushed the door wide and she stepped inside.

Sesshoumaru looked up from where he sat. For the briefest of moments, his expression cracked—eyes widening slightly in surprise—before smoothing back into its usual facade.

They stared at each other across the room. A silence thick with unsaid things. Without a word he stood, stepped forward and gathered her into his arms.

Kagome melted into him, clutching his robes like they were the only thing keeping her sane. And the moment she felt his arms wrap tightly around her, the dam inside her broke. A sob tore from her throat—choked and broken—and he held her tighter, as though willing the pieces of her to stay together just a little longer.

For now, he would be the strength she no longer had. And for once, she didn’t fight it.

Chapter Text

Sesshoumaru watched from his seat beneath the shaded veranda as Kagome hunched over her easel by the lake. The sunlight filtered through willow leaves, dappling her hair in shifting gold, but no gentle illumination could save the tragic scene unfolding on her canvas.

For all her earnest focus—brow furrowed, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth—she was unmistakably terrible at painting. What was meant to be a peaceful landscape of the bridge and water had devolved into smudges of indeterminate shape, with lines that wobbled drunkenly across the canvas.

It took all of Sesshoumaru’s self-control not to let even a ghost of laughter slip free.

Kagome, for her part, seemed painfully aware of her shortcomings. Grumbling under her breath, she dipped her brush again without looking—only to drag it across the canvas and leave a violent splash of bright crimson where cool blue should have been. Her eyes went wide, her whole body stiffening. For a moment Sesshoumaru thought she might hurl the easel into the lake.

Instead she let out a strangled groan, mumbling about how someone named Bob Ross always made it look so easy while scrubbing the paintbrush furiously on a rag as if blaming it for her own lack of skill.

Since the kit’s departure, Sesshoumaru had expected another descent into hollow-eyed sorrow. But to his mild surprise, Kagome had kept herself busy—taking over his study to pen lengthy letters to Shippo, experimenting in the kitchen with questionable results, and now attempting to master the art of painting.

He found he didn’t mind the small chaos of it. The house felt... lived in.

He was just about to suggest that perhaps she practice on small wooden tiles with simple ink when a high-pitched giggle drifted across the valley. Sesshoumaru’s ear twitched. Turning his head, he caught sight of a flicker in the sky—a fast-approaching blur of red and cream.

Kagome froze, brush halfway to her mouth where she’d almost absently tried to chew on it, when she felt the brush of a familiar aura. Eyes widening, she wiped a smear of blue from her cheek just as Kirara swooped low over the treetops. Moments later, the fire cat landed on the grass, and all pretense of calm vanished.

Twin girls with shining black hair in messy buns tumbled from their mother’s arms, squealing with delight as they raced across the bridge toward the house.

“Wait!” Sango called, breathless and laughing, while struggling to keep her footing with a squirming infant strapped to her back. Sliding off, Miroku offered a hand to steady her, his face split by a grin of unabashed delight at the sight of their daughters darting ahead.

The priestess’s answering laughter was bright and unguarded, carrying clear across the water as she abandoned her disastrous painting to rush forward, hands outstretched for the approaching chaos.

Sesshoumaru leaned back slightly, a faint quirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Chaos, indeed—but not unwelcome.

Chapter Text

Once the last of the bags had been unloaded from Kirara’s and the baby settled into Miroku’s arms, Sango wasted no time. She seized Kagome’s hands with a grin and tugged her close.

“Please tell me there’s a cold spring nearby. I’m absolutely dying for a bath and even more for some girl time.”

Kagome burst out laughing. “You read my mind.”

Within minutes, she’d grabbed her own bundle of soaps and combs, and together they dashed off into the trees, giggling like teenagers. Behind them, Miroku and Sesshoumaru were left with the twins and the infant—an arrangement both women were more than happy to leave in their capable, if somewhat reluctant, hands.

It felt wonderfully reckless to run barefoot through the underbrush again, skirts hitched up, breathless from laughter. They followed a winding path until it opened into a secluded pond surrounded by mossy rocks and bamboo.

Sango was the first to wade in, letting out a blissful groan as she sank chest-deep into the cool water. “Gods, this feels incredible. I worked up a sweat just chasing those terrors of mine all morning for the trip here!”

Kagome dunked her head, sighing when the water slid over her shoulders. Her heart was full at seeing Sango again, but curiosity nibbled at her. “How did you even know where I was?” she asked, smoothing her hair back.

Sango blinked at her, genuinely surprised. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That little imp of his, Jaken, showed up at our village out of nowhere. Delivered a message from Sesshoumaru himself, inviting us to stay for a while. Said it was urgent. I thought it was odd until I read that you were here too.” Sango narrowed her eyes. “Which brings me to my question: why are you here? Where’s Inuyasha?”

Kagome sank deeper into the water, suddenly wishing she could hide beneath it altogether. But the moment for evasion had passed. When they were both clean and floating side by side, they drifted toward a flat rock at the pond’s center, resting their arms there like they used to at village streams years ago.

“Inuyasha stayed in Edo,” Kagome began slowly, staring at her rippling reflection. “As for me… it’s complicated.”

Sango’s brow furrowed. “Kagome.”

She let out a long breath. “The jewel didn’t vanish when I wished it away—it stayed inside me. It was killing me, draining my life and soul. I’d come to terms with it. I was ready to… just pass quietly. Without troubling anyone.” She hesitated, feeling Sango’s eyes burning into her. “But Sesshoumaru found me. Right at the end. And he… he didn’t let me go. Used his power to tie my soul to me. Now our lives are bound together. Where he goes, I go. It’s… one soul, split between us.”

It was the simplest way she could put it, but the words still tasted strange on her tongue. She braced herself before daring to glance over.

Oh no, Sango looked pissed.

“So let me get this straight.” The slayer’s voice was calm—dangerously so. “You planned to die. Alone. Without telling me. Without telling Miroku. Without giving us a chance to say goodbye?”

Kagome shrank against the rock, guilt tightening her chest. “Sango, I—”

“No. Absolutely not.” Sango’s hands slammed against the stone, water splashing up between them. Her eyes glistened with furious tears. “You’re my sister, Kagome. Not by blood, but by everything that matters. I would have carried you on my back if I had to. How could you think we’d want to live in a world without you in it?”

The ache in Kagome’s heart cracked wide open. Suddenly she was being pulled into a fierce, soaking hug, Sango’s arms tight around her shoulders.

Kagome’s own tears spilled, mingling with pond water. For a long while, neither of them spoke, content to let the birdsong and wind fill the silence. It was messy, this confession, but it was also honest—something she’d needed more than she realized.

When they finally pulled apart, red-eyed but smiling, Sango let out a watery laugh. “At least now I know who to blame if you start acting all cold and proud. If you start growing stripes, I’m dragging you back to the village myself.”

Kagome snorted, wiping her eyes. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun spilled golden light over the garden, catching the steam rising from the washbasin where Kagome knelt beside Sango. The scent of soap and crushed mint leaves mingled in the air as they scrubbed fabric on smooth stones, their sleeves rolled up, hair loosely tied back. A chorus of giggles rang out nearby as the twins splashed each other with water from wooden buckets, their voices blending with the rustling trees and chirping cicadas.

“I swear,” Sango said, wringing out a tunic and throwing it over a bamboo line, “these two get dirtier the closer we get to bedtime.”

Kagome laughed. “They’re professionals at it. I think they’re trying to test how much laundry we can handle before we surrender.”

“It’s working.”

The two women exchanged tired but content smiles. It felt just like it used to back in the village—back when daily chores doubled as quality time, and community was everything. The simplicity of the work, the rhythm of shared effort, the laughter of children… it soothed something in Kagome that had been aching for a long time.

Everything had felt perfect—almost heartbreakingly so. Kagome had fallen asleep with the warmth of the day still clinging to her skin, the scent of river reeds and grilled fish in her hair. The children had piled onto futons in the room down the hall, Sango curled protectively near the baby, and Miroku snoring softly at the edge.

But her room, so quiet and dark, felt cavernous.

She lay beneath her blanket, trying to will herself into sleep. Yet the silence was too loud. After so many days of motion and company, the solitude felt cruel. She stared at the ceiling until it blurred. And eventually—too tired to fight it—her mind drifted.

And she dreamed.

Snow blanketed the shoreline like untouched silk. 

The sea churned in the distance—waves crashing against the cold sand with a rhythmic, thunderous pulse. Wind sliced across the beach, picking up tufts of snow and sending them swirling into the air like ghostly petals.

Kagome stood barefoot in the snow, but she didn’t feel the cold. The sky above was an endless gray dome, and the only sound was the endless rush of waves and the distant cry of gulls.

Ahead of her stood two figures. Toga with his back to her, long white fur trailing in the wind, his armor covered in a dusting of frost. He faced the sea, unmoving, and just behind him stood Sesshoumaru.

Not the Sesshoumaru she knew now—but a younger, colder version of him. He stood on the snow-covered shoreline, the waves crashing violently behind his father, flinging mist and foam into the bitter air. Snow spiraled down in quiet sheets, softening everything except the rage that pulsed in Sesshoumaru’s clenched jaw and trembling fists. 

“Father,” he said at last, his tone brittle and laced with betrayal. “Do you insist on going?”

Kagome’s eyes dropped to the blood trailing down Toga’s fingers—bright red against the white, soaking into the snow like a wound that would never clot. But the elder demon said nothing right away. He only gazed out toward the horizon, the wind catching at his fur and hair like a restless spirit.

Then, at last he spoke, voice deep and worn. “Do you intend to stop me, Sesshoumaru?”

She felt the breath catch in her chest. The air around her was suddenly heavy. She knew this moment. This was the night he left. The night he chose to die to protect Inuyasha and the human woman he loved. The night he left Sesshoumaru behind.

Her gaze snapped back to the young lord. The anger in his eyes was real—but so was the grief. And under it all… confusion. Sesshoumaru might have been grown, might have worn the armor of a warrior, but in this moment, she saw the child Toga left behind in that dojo.

“I will not stand in your way,” Sesshoumaru said finally. His voice was now carefully composed, but his hands betrayed him—tightening at his sides until his claws dug into his palms. “However… before you go, you must entrust Tessaiga and So’unga to me.”

The name of that wicked blade made Kagome flinch. So’unga. Even in memory, it carried a foul presence. The fact that Sesshoumaru wanted it—demanded it—sent a wave of unease washing over her. That, paired with hearing him ask for Tessaiga again, tasted bitter in her mouth. How far he had come since this moment…

“And if I refuse,” Toga replied, finally turning to look at his son, blood trailing down his jaw and staining the fur at his shoulder, “will you kill me? Your own father?” The air between them stilled, charged with something unspoken. “Do you seek power so much?” the general asked, voice lowered, almost mournful. “Why do you seek power, my son?”

Kagome’s lips parted, a whisper escaping before she even realized she’d spoken. “Because that’s what you taught him to do.”

She understood now. Through the tangle of memories she had seen the truth—how every lesson, every word, every battle carved Sesshoumaru into a perfect blade. A killer made in his father’s image. Toga forged him with one purpose: to conquer, to dominate, to survive.

And now he dared to speak of love?

“The path I walk is one of supreme conquest,” Sesshoumaru answered, his voice as icy as the wind. “Power will pave the way for me.”

A pause. The ocean roared behind them like it, too, was grieving.

“Supreme conquest…” Toga repeated, turning forward again. “Then tell me, Sesshoumaru. Do you have someone to protect?”

The question was soft. Almost kind. It struck Kagome like a punch in the gut.

Her throat went dry. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Even knowing it was a dream, that none of them could hear her—she still held her breath.

Sesshoumaru didn’t flinch. He didn’t hesitate. “Protect?” he echoed. “The answer is no. I have no need for such.”

That’s not true.

Kagome felt the words bloom behind her teeth, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she watched as Toga said nothing more. No farewell. No final words and then his form shimmered—flesh giving way to bone and fur, power stretching and surging as he transformed into his true self. The massive white dog leapt skyward, vanishing into the snowstorm.

And Sesshoumaru… did nothing.

He didn’t scream. Didn’t chase after him. He just stood there, watching the sky as the snow swallowed the last of his father’s silhouette. 

Kagome wanted to cry.

How could he do that? How could Toga shape Sesshoumaru into a weapon and then abandon him for another family—another child? Yes, he had saved Inuyasha and Izayoi, and Kagome was grateful for that. But it didn’t erase what he had done to Sesshoumaru. What he hadn’t done.

The hypocrisy of it shattered something in her.

Would he have done the same if Sesshoumaru’s mother had needed saving? Or would he have let her die, just as long as his new legacy was safe?

Kagome wrapped her arms around herself. Her gaze drifted back to Sesshoumaru, still standing there alone in the snow.

He had known. Somehow, even back then, he’d known that was the last time he would ever see his father. And still, he had let him go.

Her chest ached. She wanted to scream at the sky. Wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and tell him he had someone to protect now. That he had always been worth protecting too.

But the dream began to fade.

And as it did, she realized that her own tears had joined the snow, falling silently to her futon.

Chapter Text

Kagome woke late the next morning, wrapped in the kind of slow, heavy exhaustion that only came after a night full of strange dreams. By the time she made it to the kitchen, breakfast had already come and gone. Someone—likely Sango—had set aside a plate for her, still warm and waiting beneath a cloth.

She ate in silence at the table, listening to the sounds of nature flowing in through the open doors. When she finally stepped into the sunlight, the day was already half gone. The air smelled like damp grass and woodsmoke, and a gentle breeze danced across the lake, carrying with it the soft, echoing voices of her friends.

Down by the water’s edge, she spotted Sango and Miroku sitting beneath a tree. They were leaning close, heads bowed together in quiet conversation, Sango smiling as Miroku tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a tender moment between them—private and precious. Kagome didn’t call out. She simply watched for a moment, heart swelling with affection for her old friends, then turned away to give them space.

She wasn’t sure where the children had disappeared to, and Sesshoumaru was nowhere in sight. Wandering the house felt strange without them. But her feet carried her forward, guided not by logic but by something else, something instinctual. Her bond with Sesshoumaru, perhaps. It tugged at her gently, leading her down the hall until she found herself outside the open doors of the library.

She might have passed right by if not for the sound of quiet voices. Peeking in, Kagome froze.

Sesshoumaru was seated near the window, the sunlight casting golden halos around him. In his lap sat both twin girls, curled up like contented kittens as he held an open book before them. On a blanket beside him—nestled in a bundle of his pelt—lay the infant, fast asleep.

It was a scene so disarming that Kagome wondered if she was still dreaming.

He was reading aloud in a low, even voice. Every time the girls encountered a word they didn’t understand or a piece of the story that confused them, he paused and explained patiently, repeating until they nodded their understanding. It was a strange kind of magic—this gentle, fatherly version of him—and Kagome found herself entranced.

Her thoughts drifted to her dream that night: the snow-covered beach, the sea crashing like a heartbeat, and Tōga’s solemn gaze over the waves. Had his father ever sat with him like this? Had he known moments of softness while reading storybooks? She doubted it. The image that formed in her mind was of a young Sesshoumaru, alone in a cold study, reading to himself in silence. 

Kagome didn’t realize one of the twins had got up until a small hand tugged hers. The girl grinned up at her, pulling eagerly, and Kagome followed without thinking, letting herself be guided across the room. She sat down beside Sesshoumaru, careful not to disturb the sleeping infant, and the little girl climbed back into his lap. The baby stirred then, letting out a soft whimper, and Kagome instinctively reached for him. A few gentle rocks and murmured words were all it took to settle him again and he stayed nestled in her arms.

Sesshoumaru continued reading, his voice smooth and steady, and slowly, Kagome leaned into him. Her right shoulder brushed against his arm. The story weaved around them all like a blanket, comforting and immersive, and without meaning to, her head drifted to rest on his shoulder.

The moment he went still she noticed and looked up, blinking. Sesshoumaru had stopped mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on her. Just as she opened her mouth to ask if something was wrong, something bloomed inside her chest—a spreading warmth that felt like sunshine under her skin.

Comforting. Peaceful.

And then, as suddenly as it came, he looked away and resumed reading, and the warmth faded away.

Moments later, Sango appeared in the doorway, calling softly, “Are you girls ready for lunch?”

The twins perked up instantly, clambering down from Sesshoumaru’s lap. “Can you read more after lunch?” one of them eagerly asked the demon.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head. “If you wish.”

Sango stepped inside and reached for the baby in Kagome’s arms. The priestess passed him over gently, although her body was reluctant to part with the comfort he’d provided. 

She made to rise when a clawed hand appeared in front of her. She blinked at it, surprised, and then looked up. Sesshoumaru wasn’t looking at her, but simply offering his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Kagome hesitated only a heartbeat before slipping her fingers into his. The moment their skin touched, that golden warmth returned, spreading through her again, bright and alive  like firelight. It lingered even after he pulled her to her feet, in the curve of her palm where his claws had closed around it. When he released her hand and turned to leave, his long hair trailing behind him like a silver curtain, Kagome stood frozen in place.

And that was when it hit her. That feeling—the strange, radiant warmth—it hadn’t come from her. It was him.

For the first time, she realized that what she’d been feeling all along wasn’t just her own heart confusing comfort for affection. She was feeling his emotions.

And Sesshoumaru... Sesshoumaru was happy.

Chapter Text

With Sango, Miroku, and their children gone, Sesshoumaru found the halls unsettlingly quiet. He’d expected relief from the constant chatter and small-footed thunders, yet the silence felt… wrong. He would not admit it aloud, but he almost missed the rowdy little humans.

Stranger still, Kagome was no longer avoiding him. In fact, she had been doing the exact opposite.

It had begun subtly—her fingertips brushing against his arm when she passed, the fleeting warmth of her shoulder grazing his sleeve. At first, he had dismissed it as accidental. But the light grazes soon became deliberate, her hand curling around his wrist to pull him along, her palm resting against his forearm as if to bring him comfort.

And then came her request.

When he mentioned needing to patrol for a day or two, she surprised him by asking—almost too eagerly—to join. He had agreed with mild reluctance; her pace was slower, and the sweep of his territory would take longer. Still, he saw no harm in allowing it.

What he had not anticipated was her suggestion they travel in a mix of walking and flying. It was so unexpected that he simply inclined his head in agreement before considering how unusual it was for her to propose something that would keep her close to him for extended stretches of time.

Something had changed again, though he couldn’t place when. And while there remained the ever-present risk that a single word or action could send her retreating behind her walls again, he found himself unwilling to jeopardize this fragile change.

A week passed without incident. They traveled by day—sometimes on foot, sometimes with her held securely in his arms as they flew—and at night, she would quietly settle beside him, resting against his side while he remained seated at the base of a tree or boulder, keeping watch. It was not a new habit he encouraged, yet neither did he push her away.

What Sesshoumaru didn’t realize was the reason behind her sudden need for touch. Ever since she had caught that fleeting glimpse of something unguarded in him, a momentary crack in the mask he always wore, she had been determined to uncover more. But each attempt had been fruitless. Nothing came close to the warmth she’d felt that day when he had been reading to Sango and Miroku’s children. 

Now, as they made their way back toward his dwelling, her thoughts wandered toward simpler comforts—a hot bath deep enough to soak in and a meal that didn’t involve rabbit or fish grilled over an open flame. She followed close at his heels, the wooden planks of the narrow bridge creaking beneath their weight as the lake rippled lazily below.

She was mid-thought when he stopped without warning. Her momentum carried her forward, colliding with the solid wall of his back. “Oof—” She grunted, hands instinctively bracing against his armor as she rubbed her nose.

“Why did you—” The question died in her throat.

It hit her all at once, a lurching wave of nausea, the kind that left her dizzy, like standing on the deck of a ship in the middle of a storm. She pressed a hand over her mouth, leaning against him for balance. Then the sickness twisted, morphing into something hotter—irritation flooding her veins like a brand pressed to bare skin.

Her breath returned in shallow bursts, and she gripped his sleeve, peering around him. That was when she saw her. Someone she had only ever encountered in dreams standing on the genkan .

Sesshoumaru’s mother.

Chapter Text

One moment Kagome was standing behind Sesshoumaru, and the next she had planted herself in front of him, shielding him from what she thought was a nightmare come to life. Her body trembled, but not with fear—with fury. All she could think about was the neglected child in her dreams: small hands reaching for a mother who never once turned to meet them. It made her angry, and for the first time in what felt like years, Kagome wanted to fight for something again. To plant her feet in the dirt, to raise her chin, to refuse to look away.

Her ocean-blue eyes darkened, storm clouds gathering within, as she squared her shoulders toward the demoness standing across the courtyard. The stranger’s aura was overwhelming, her layers of fine silk and fur shifting with the breeze. Snow-white hair, swept into two immaculate ponytails, flowed down her back and swayed lazily behind her. The two women studied one another in silence, predator sizing up protector. Kagome’s chest rose with determination, bracing herself as Sesshoumaru’s mother parted her lips to speak—

But it was a wailing cry that shattered the tension. A small bundle at the demoness’s feet squirmed on the wooden porch, fists flailing as he let out a squeak of protest.

Kagome froze, her fury faltering at the unexpected sight. Of all the things she imagined Sesshoumaru’s mother doing, tenderly cooing over a baby had not been one of them. The contrast was so drastic it knocked the wind from her indignation, leaving her blinking in stunned silence.

Before she could fully process it, the doors behind the demoness slid open. Rin burst out, her face instantly glowing when her eyes landed on them. “You’re back!” she cried, racing forward. She threw her arms around Kagome, hugging her so tightly the older woman staggered under her enthusiasm. “Lady Mother and I have been waiting since yesterday!”

Kagome’s mind was still spinning as she stared back at the girl. Turning her gaze to Sesshoumaru he met her questioning look with the weary patience of a man long accustomed to this kind of behavior and a heavy sigh escaped him.

Wordlessly, he stepped forward, one hand coming to rest on Kagome’s shoulder and led her towards the house. Once on the genkan his other hand carefully plucked Hikaru from his mother’s arms. The demoness pouted, clearly unhappy to give up her prize.

“I do not recall inviting you,” he said flatly, cradling the baby against his chest.

His mother reached to take the infant back only to have Sesshoumaru step past her. He guided Kagome inside, leaving Rin to awkwardly usher the huffing demoness in behind them.

The moment Lady Mother entered she made herself perfectly at home. With a dramatic sigh, she flung herself into a pile of cushions. “When I received your letter, I thought surely my only son would prefer I deliver the information he seeks in person,” she declared. “So here I am. Not only that, I even went out of my way to bring your pup and her offspring.”

Her golden eyes swept toward Kagome then, taking her in from head to toe with a critical once-over that made the younger woman shift uncomfortably. “Imagine my horror when it was through Rin that I first learned my only son had taken a mate. And then—” She placed the back of her hand against her forehead, as if her next words were almost too painful to speak. “Then you had the gall to ask me if I—”

Clearly uninterested in indulging her theatrics, Sesshoumaru passed Hikaru into Kagome’s arms. His gaze softened briefly at the sight of her automatically rocking the child before he turned back to his mother. “We will discuss what I asked of you later,” he interrupted. “For now, we will wash and rest. Introductions may continue at dinner.”

The demoness let out a gasp, muttering under her breath about her son’s appalling lack of manners. Kagome, still struggling to process how rapidly everything had spiraled, could do little more than pass Hikaru into Rin’s waiting arms. The baby, now handed off from one person to the next like some perilous game of hot potato, gave a gurgle of protest before Rin happily bounced him on her hip. Sesshoumaru, meanwhile, strode deeper into the house, tugging Kagome along by the wrist.

“Um…” Kagome began, but her brain seemed to short-circuit. She hardly had time to form a coherent thought before Sesshoumaru pulled her into the bathhouse and shut the door behind them. Then he began to undress.

That, at least, snapped her out of her daze. “W–What are you doing?” she blurted, voice pitching higher than intended.

“Would you prefer to wash the dirt from our travels,” Sesshoumaru asked, slipping out of his armor and layers as though she weren’t standing right there, “or stay outside and entertain my mother?”

Her eyes flicked instinctively to the closed door. Alone. With that woman. Kagome’s stomach sank. Between bathing with Sesshoumaru and facing his mother, she would sooner scrub Jaken’s warty little back.

Sesshoumaru’s golden gaze slid toward her just in time to see her fingers fumbling with her sash. For once, the demon lord was caught off guard. He quickly looked away and stepped into the steaming pool. His presence displaced the water so dramatically that it spilled over the sides in a small tidal wave, soaking Kagome’s feet. She squeaked, half-annoyed and half-embarrassed, watching the water race across the stone floor.

She hesitated only a moment before climbing in after him, panties still firmly in place. Covering her chest with crossed arms, she tucked herself against the far edge of the tub, curling up as though the distance could shield her from the reality that Sesshoumaru—the very large, very bare, very male—was lounging directly across from her. The bath was normally vast, big enough to stretch out and float lazily without ever brushing against the sides. Yet with him inside, the space felt claustrophobic, shrinking until she was forced into the corner.

Her cheeks burned as curiosity waged war with restraint. She had never seen him like this—undressed, exposed. And though she tried not to look, every ripple of muscle, every angle of him, was burned into her peripheral vision.

Clutching a bar of soap and cloth like a lifeline, Kagome attacked her skin with vigorous scrubbing, determined to keep her eyes fixed anywhere but on him.

Chapter Text

Dinner had been nothing short of suffocating with every bite tasting of unease. Lady InuKimi had spoken sparingly, offering nothing more than a cool introduction before letting silence dominate the table. When Kagome finally excused herself, hoping to breathe without the weight of that golden gaze upon her, the demoness had risen as well only to follow.

“I will be sleeping in this chamber,” InuKimi had declared as she pushed past the woman and into the room. “It is, after all, traditionally reserved for the matriarch.”

Too drained to challenge her and unwilling to ignite a battle she could not win, Kagome yielded. Instead she sought refuge in the spare room with Rin and Hikaru.

And now—Sesshoumaru lay awake in his own chambers staring at the ceiling in restless silence. Sleep evaded him. Every time he closed his eyes the image of Kagome’s wet body rising from the steaming bath reappeared with cruel clarity. Water dripping from her flushed skin. The way her hands had tried to shield herself from him. His cock throbbed hard beneath the blanket, the ache now unbearable.

With a growl of frustration, he pushed himself upright. If he remained here he would either shred his bedding or go mad. He loosely pulled on a light yukata before slipping outside into the cool night. After a short walk, when he judged himself far enough from curious ears, he stopped at the base of a great oak. Tugging the robe open, a hand braced against the rough bark and the other closed firmly around his length. He sighed while recalling every forbidden detail from the bath.

Kagome had done her utmost not to look at him—scrubbing herself raw as though pretending he wasn’t there. But Sesshoumaru had not extended her the same courtesy. He had stared openly, hungrily. The last time he had seen her body she had been broken, hollow, her flesh clinging to bone as he wrenched the jewel from her. But now… now she was soft, full, her body ripened with life.

Her arms had pressed against her chest, failing miserably to hide the swell of her breasts. They were large and heavy, made to spill into his hands, to fill his mouth. He groaned low in his throat as his strokes quickened.

And then there were the white undergarments. Pitiful, delicate scraps of cloth that clung to her curves when drenched, turning transparent in the steam and leaving nothing was left to imagination. The slope of her hips, the roundness of her ass, the tempting shadow between her thighs. He had noticed the bareness there, smooth and neat, making him wonder what it would feel like when his tongue parted her, when his cock split her open.

He pumped himself harder, faster, his breaths ragged. In his mind Kagome was still in the bath but on her knees, her knuckles white as she braced herself against the wooden rim. He was behind her, driving into her with relentless force, watching her body ripple with each punishing thrust. Her cries echoed in his ears, his name falling from her lips on repeat.

He imagined her belly stretched with his seed, dripping, overflowing, marked by him in every possible way. Her tear-streaked face, flushed from pleasure as she dared to glance back at him, was the final blow.

Sesshoumaru bit down on a growl as his release tore through him. Hot and violent, it spilled over his hand and onto the forest floor, his entire body shuddering against the tree as his fantasy consumed him. For several heartbeats he stayed there with his chest heaving as the night air cooled the sweat along his temple.

After washing in the cold stream, Sesshoumaru felt renewed and prepared at last for a night of rest. That fragile sense of peace shattered the moment he stepped onto the engawa.

“Are you finished defiling yourself?” came the judgmental purr of his mother’s voice. She lounged on several cushions she had dragged outside, tapping the ash from the kiseru she had plucked from his study. “Sowing your seed into the dirt will not give you an heir, my son. Surely I raised you with more sense than that.”

“You raised me with nothing,” Sesshoumaru snapped back. “My tutors and nannies did all the work. You merely hovered in the background, as you do now.” The thought of sleep was already ruined; he might as well carve through her reasons for being here. “Why are you here, Mother?”

InuKimi pinched a fresh curl of tobacco into the pipe with a smile that was far from kind. “You wrote to me—asking how one might sever a soul bond without killing either party. Such a strange, dangerous question. I had to come and see what compelled you.” She struck flint, smoke rising as she drew in the first taste. “Imagine my surprise when I learn from your pup that you are living with a human woman. I feared you had inherited your father’s weakness long ago, when you begged me to save that same pup. And now? You’ve tied your very life to yet another mortal. How could I not worry, when my son insists on making such pitiful choices?”

Her words rolled off him like a tide he had weathered countless times before. Her twisted narratives, her talent for painting herself the long-suffering mother. Correcting her would be as useful as barking at the moon. One does not teach an old bitch new tricks.

“If you do not have the knowledge I seek, then simply admit it.” Sesshoumaru’s patience thinned to a thread as he strode toward her and plucked the pipe from her clawed fingers. “You will either behave during your stay or leave at dawn. Kagome and I share a bond, yes, but we are not mated. You knew that and chose to speak otherwise.”

His mother only shrugged, watching as her son inhaled deeply from the pipe. “You bound your soul to the mortal. The rest is inevitable, whether you resist or not. My claim will be proven correct in time.” Her lips curved in amusement as a thought struck her. “Unless, of course, it is she who refuses you. Tell me—are you incapable of seducing a human? Was that why you were rutting into the earth like a common beast?”

Sesshoumaru’s temper finally peaked. “Will you, for once, hold your tongue and listen without spewing venom no one asked for?!” His snarl shook the stillness of the night and was enough to startle his mother.

Amber eyes widened and a hand drifted instinctively to press against her chest as though steadying a heart that dared to falter. For several long minutes, InuKimi sat in silence, her calculating tongue held still. 

“Very well,” she murmured at last, gaze locked on her son. “Then speak. Tell me everything.”

Chapter Text

“Shall we take a walk?”

The silken lilt of InuKimi’s voice drifted from behind Kagome, each word sliding over her skin like a chill wind. She stiffened in her seat, that cold sending a shiver running down her spine. Though phrased as a question, they both knew it was nothing of the sort—courtesy masking inevitability.

Rin and Hikaru had left the day after Kagome and Sesshoumaru returned from patrols, lifted into the skies on Ah-Un’s broad back with Jaken after he delivered supplies. Watching them disappear into the horizon had left Kagome hollow. Their departure meant there was no longer anyone to stand between her and Sesshoumaru’s mother. 

With a sigh of defeat, Kagome closed the book she had been pretending to read and pushed to her feet. From across the study, Sesshoumaru growled low, his lips parting to intervene. She caught him with a shake of her head, forcing a brittle smile that reassured nothing.

“A walk sounds… lovely,” Kagome said, the word grinding past clenched teeth.

She didn’t linger to see the flicker of concern in his golden eyes. Instead, she turned on her heel and followed the demoness, the crisp bite of autumn air greeting them as they stepped into the gardens behind the manor.

They walked in silence at first, the only sound the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant trickle of water from the garden stream. Kagome kept her gaze forward, though every instinct screamed at her to glance to her side, to make sure the demoness wasn’t studying her like prey.

“You fidget,” InuKimi finally said, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. “Does my company unsettle you so?”

Kagome swallowed. “How could it not?”

A laugh slipped from InuKimi’s lips as she slowed her steps, letting her furs sag around her as Kagome stopped to look back at her. “My son tells me many things. Some I ignore, most I already know. But when he spoke of you…” She let the words hang in the cool evening air, her amber eyes narrowing. “I decided to look for myself.”

Her slender fingers slipped into the folds of her robes, parting the cascade of white fur that framed her chest. Resting against her skin, half-hidden in gold, was an orb of violet that pulsed faintly as though alive. Kagome felt its thrum in her bones, the faint ripple of power bleeding into the atmosphere.

“This,” InuKimi purred, tracing the cage of gold with a single claw, “is a talisman. A trinket with many uses, but one I favor above all, sight . With it, I peered into your tale… into the jewel’s grip on you. And into him.” Her gaze flicked toward the direction of Sesshoumaru’s study.

Kagome’s heart raced. “You saw what exactly?"

“Everything. How the jewel gnawed at your soul. Piece by piece, bite by bite. It did not merely consume—it corrupted. Those dark thoughts, those whispers of despair you so foolishly believed your own?” She tilted her head, voice dropping to something low and knowing. “They were never you. They were the jewel’s curse. The spirits trapped within it, desperate for vengeance.”

Kagome’s hands curled into fists. She wanted to deny it, but deep down, it explained too much. The nights of hopelessness. The flashes of anger that didn’t feel like hers. The aching pull toward death.

“I will admit,” InuKimi continued, almost idly, “that I wished Sesshoumaru had honored your request. To let you slip quietly into the void. It would have been cleaner.” She watched Kagome’s face closely, gauging the sting her words left. Then, with the faintest sigh, she added, “But I also understand why he did not.”

That unexpected statement left Kagome blinking in surprise.

“I saw, priestess,” The demoness said, her tone sounding almost accusing. “I saw the power you wield. The sacrifices you bled for others. Even I cannot deny them. A second chance was forced upon you, yes—but chance nonetheless. And chance is not a gift one squanders.” Her amber eyes glinted, half-smirk tugging at her lips. “You now share a soul with my son. A burden neither of you can undo. How you bear it is up to you.”

Kagome opened her mouth, but InuKimi raised a claw-tipped finger. “Hear this. Those shadows inside you will linger for some time. They do not vanish with a snap of one’s fingers. But happiness, joy, peace… they are louder. Stronger. And in time, they drown the whispers out.” The words weren’t gentle and offered no real reassurance, but they struck something deep inside Kagome.

“So,” Closing her furs once more, the talisman disappearing beneath a sweep of white. “You may continue to resent him, to curse fate, to mourn what might have been. Or…” Her lips curled into what might have been an attempt at a warm smile. “…you may come to appreciate what he has done. Even if it was not the ending you chose.”

With that, the Lady Mother turned gracefully, the conversation clearly over in her mind, leaving Kagome standing by the stream with her mind buzzing with all this new information.

Chapter Text

It was cold. So unbearably cold.

The kind of chill that gnawed straight through skin and marrow, seeping into places no warmth could reach. Kagome’s teeth chattered even though she couldn’t see her breath. Darkness swallowed her whole and yet she felt like she was trapped in an iceberg. This was wrong. Dreams were never like this. She’d felt Sesshoumaru’s emotions before, yes, but never the environment.

The darkness thinned, and she blinked against a bleak, washed-out light. Suddenly, she stood in the midst of winter’s corpse. The world was brittle and dead—trees stripped bare, grass withered to dust, the air sharp enough to cut her lungs. The silence was staggering. And in the emptiness, she saw him.

Sesshoumaru sat at the edge of a dry embankment, his pristine white fur glowing like a beacon against the lifeless landscape. He looked untouched by it, but Kagome’s veins were still flooded with ice. Something in her screamed that she wasn’t safe here.

Her feet betrayed her, stumbling down the incline until she was at his side. And then she froze.

There, in Sesshoumaru’s arms, lay what a person. No—what was left of a person. Breathing, but so faintly it might as well have been death itself. The skin was ashen, the lips cracked and blue. Only when a husky whisper escaped those lips did Kagome’s stomach plummet.

“Inuyasha… you came for me.”

She clapped a trembling hand over her mouth, choking down the scream coming up her throat. This wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare. Not his memory alone but one they shared. She was living it—feeling it—all over again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to blot it out, but the darkness behind her lids was worse. Cold. Empty. When a prickle of dread shivered down her spine, she opened them again and nearly staggered. The world had changed. The barren fields were gone and she was in a cave. Damp air clung to her skin, reeking of stone and earth.

This part… she didn’t remember.

Sesshoumaru was there again, laying her broken body on his pelt to shield her from the icy ground. Kagome’s stomach lurched. Was that really her? That skeletal husk, pale as parchment, the bones jutting against wasted skin? Revulsion rolled through her. She couldn’t even look at herself without nausea threatening to choke her.

Her eyes did not stay averted for long.

The sound of fabric tearing had her eyes snapping back just in time to see Sesshoumaru rip open her hakama. Her breath caught when she saw it—the sickly glow of the Shikon jewel, visible beneath her wasted flesh, pulsing like a parasite.

“No…” she whispered, though no one could hear her.

Two claws pierced her. Blood welled. And with brutal efficiency, Sesshoumaru wrenched the jewel free.

Kagome’s scream couldn't be held back this time. Her eyes followed the cursed gem as it rolled across the cave floor, smearing a thin, glistening trail of blood in its wake. She swore the thing was watching her in turn.

In that moment, InuKimi’s words drifted their way back to her. The jewel, feeding on her soul. The dark whispers. The endless despair. None of it had been hers. They weren’t her thoughts, weren’t her weaknesses—they were the jewel’s revenge. And suddenly, it all snapped into place. If she died with it inside her… Cremation might have happened, like with Kikyo. Or burial. Either way, the jewel would endure. Reborn again with her next incarnation, spreading its poison anew. The cycle would never end.

Her knees buckled. She dropped to the stone, clutching her face, heart hammering in her ears as the truth crushed her. She hadn’t been noble. She hadn’t been selfless. She’d been a fool—played like a puppet by the malice still festering in that cursed rock.

Her breaths came in quick, ragged gasps, threatening to spiral into panic. But then a rush of power surged through the cavern. Heavy and wild. She looked up through tear-streaked lashes.

Sesshoumaru was cradling her body again. His hands trembled against her ruined frame. His eyes were bloodshot, locked onto her neck as his jaw tightened and fangs pressed against her skin. His aura writhed like a storm, raging against the inevitable.

Kagome had never seen him like this. Never seen anyone like this. A demon fighting gods themselves to drag her back from death’s grip.

All those times she had screamed at him, struck him, accused him of stealing her choice—he had borne it in silence. He had stood tall, letting her words cut into him like blades, and yet… he had never once defended himself. Never once snapped back that she was wrong. He had simply carried it, the full blunt of her rage, her grief, her despair, as though it was his to bear alone.

And now she understood why.

Because beneath the fury of her accusations, he already knew the truth. He had torn her from death with his own hands. He had chained himself to her soul, bound his eternity to her fragile mortality, and in doing so condemned them both to suffering neither of them asked for. And still—not once—had he voiced regret.

He had let her hate him for it. He had let her punish him for it. He had let her break herself against him, again and again, while he endured in all. Because he thought she was worth it.

The scene seemed to stretch into eternity. Sesshoumaru’s battle against the heavens, her body limp in his arms, the cavern shaking from his immense power.

And then it came. A sound so small, so fragile, yet it split her world open.

A heartbeat. A dull, stubborn thump.

Chapter Text

“Are you not sad to see your mother leave?”

Sesshoumaru didn’t so much as blink. His vacant golden eyes stayed fixed on her and his face carved from stone. He hadn’t even bothered to dress formally for the send-off—just a charcoal-gray yukata and plain sandals, as if to make his indifference visible. No—sadness was not what weighed on him. If anything, he was surprised she was leaving of her own accord. Consideration had never been her strength. So why now?

InuKimi clicked her tongue in mild disappointment as they stood at the bridge where the water kissed the reeds. Her gaze drifted back toward the house, where the first blush of morning illuminated its walls. The talisman she wore allowed her to peer into past events with piercing clarity, but the future… that remained only in fractured glimpses. And today, when she had risen from bed, she had felt it—the tug of the fates. Her meddling here was done.

She spoke again, her voice carrying that familiar, silken bite. “While I cannot say I am pleased that you have taken a human for a mate, the power she carries—greater even than she realizes—nearly makes up for her… race.”

Sesshoumaru resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Why could she not depart without leaving behind unnecessary words? It did not help that he still had no idea what she and Kagome had discussed during their walk. Neither woman had breathed a word of it afterward. Kagome had even retired early, slipping into bed before dinner, leaving him with more questions than answers.

His mother turned on her heel and with furs trailing elegantly she crossed the bridge. Sesshoumaru remained where he was, his tired eyes following her as dawn painted the clearing in pale gold. Halfway across, she paused, glancing back over her shoulder with a sly tilt of her lips.

“Oh, and might I suggest adding a few more furs to your bed? You may not be sleeping alone tonight.” 

Not waiting for a response, the demoness shifted, her form melting into the magnificent white of her true body. With a powerful sweep of her tail, she took to the sky, her silhouette vanishing into the horizon.

He could not decide if her parting words had been meant as an ominous warning or a giddy prediction, and perhaps that was the point. His mother rarely spoke without hidden barbs, her tongue weaving mischief and manipulation in equal measure. Best, then, to discard most of what she said, for it served no one’s purpose but her own.

What he longed for now was silence—a peaceful  morning unmarred by her presence. He stood at the bridge and turned eastward, closing his eyes as the first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon. Like a serpent basking on warm stone, he let the light soak into his skin, as though it could burn away her cloying shadow. For a fleeting moment, he almost believed it.

Yes. Things would be well. Allowing Kagome time with her former packmates had proven a wise decision. The change in her had been undeniable. Her laughter had returned, hesitant at first, then stronger; her steps less heavy, her shoulders no longer bent beneath unseen weight. She had filled out again, her once gaunt frame softened with health until she carried a glow that even he found difficult not to admire.

Truthfully, he had always found her pleasing to the eye—comely for a mortal, even before the bond and the jewel’s poison. But now… now he was drawn to her in ways that unsettled him. Whether it was the mingling of their souls or the simple truth of her body at its peak, she lured him without effort. He still saw her in the bath when he closed his eyes—water clinging to her skin, the curves she had tried to shield, the softness she failed to hide.

Those images plagued his nights, twisting into fevered dreams that left him restless and aching. More than once he had woken with his release staining the sheets or been forced to slip into the woods to ease himself. The thought of her ever discovering him in such a state was… intolerable. Almost terrifying.

A hum in the air broke his reverie. A tremor against his senses pulled his gaze back to the house.

And there she stood, the very being that haunted his thoughts.

Kagome was on the engawa, her shoulders trembling, hair in disarray. Fresh tears spilled over her cheeks, tracing over the trails of those that had dried before. She looked at him with eyes too wide, too blue, brimming with a sorrow that cut into his very being.

He moved toward her before thought could intervene, drawn by instinct alone. But instead of waiting for his approach, Kagome launched herself from the patio and ran straight into him, colliding with enough force to knock the breath from his chest. Her arms clutched him tightly, her face buried against the open front of his robe leaving streaks of damp across pale muscle. For a heartbeat, he stood frozen, then slowly his arm curved around her shoulders and a clawed hand finding the back of her head.

What had sparked this grief? Had his mother whispered more poison into her ear? The thought made his jaw tense. Words were not his strength, never had been, so he gave what he could—his steady presence, the strength of his body sheltering hers. He could only hope it was enough to keep her from unraveling again.

A faint nuzzle against his sternum drew his gaze downward. She sniffled, lifting those luminous, tear-wet eyes to him, and though her lips trembled she offered him a fragile smile. Then her cheek pressed against his chest again.

“Is she gone?”

The words ghosted against his skin sending a shiver racing down his spine despite the sun’s warmth. If she lingered against him much longer, his body might betray him in ways neither of them was ready for. With the same decisiveness he used on the battlefield, he bent and swept her into his arms, cradling her as though she were something precious.

“Yes,” he answered, the syllable slipping out with a sigh that sounded dangerously close to relief. InuKimi had always unsettled him in ways few could, stripping past his control, and there was no point hiding that truth from Kagome. If they were to walk through the rest of their lives together, she would see him at his strongest and at his weakest. 

Kagome clung to him, her fingers knotting into the fabric of his yukata, her eyes drinking him in. She should have looked away—she normally would have, too shy to hold him so boldly—but at that moment she didn’t care. She had woken from the nightmare of her own death only to find his room empty. Panic had clawed through her until she found him here. And despite her tears, despite her failures to hold herself together, he still carried her, as though she were worthy of it. She had nothing to offer him, and yet he still gave her everything.

As he crossed the threshold with her still in his arms, her thoughts drifted unbidden to their beginning. She had been nothing more than a reckless schoolgirl, stumbling through a world she didn’t understand, and he—a cold, lethal demon bent on claiming his father’s heirloom. That he hadn’t struck her down the very first day had been absurd, almost laughable. Even Inuyasha had seemed surprised she survived. And yet, every encounter afterward only bound them closer in ways she couldn’t explain.

They were an impossible pair—priestess  and demon. But beneath the differences, they were oddly alike. She had taken in a demon child, providing him a mother figure when no one would. He had done the same for a human girl, protecting her when no one thought it possible. She carried scars of loss, of being torn from her time and from those she loved. He bore centuries of solitude, the ache of a fractured family he never revealed.

Both of them had loved and lost, both of them had stood on battlefields with too much blood on their hands, and both of them had learned—reluctantly, painfully—how to live again through the ties they forged with others.

Now, in his arms, Kagome felt the truth of it settle in her chest that they had always been walking parallel paths. Somehow, impossibly, those paths had crossed and entwined, and she wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.

Chapter Text

InuKimi, as always, had been both right and wrong.

After Sesshoumaru soothed Kagome’s trembling the day his mother departed, she hadn’t said much. Instead, she simply began shadowing him, slipping silently from room to room as though proximity to him was the only thing she had left. When night fell, he returned from his bath to find her kneeling beside his bed, quietly laying out her own futon on the floor.

He wanted to ask what she thought she was doing—but stopped himself. Kagome’s stubbornness rarely yielded to reason. If she found comfort in his presence, then so be it. Better to allow her to do as she pleased than chase her back into her own nightmares.

What he had not anticipated was the effect of her nearness at night. Even with winter pressing against the shōji screens, the chill seeping into the old timbers, he felt overheated. His body burned as though he were fevered, sweat slicking his skin as he shifted endlessly beneath his covers. The mistake had been looking over at her that first night.

She had kicked her blanket aside, the yukata she wore rumpled and loose, parting enough to reveal the delicate rise of her breasts in the moonlight. Innocent, unguarded, she had been sprawled there as though she were meant to test him. And test him she did—because he found himself in the forest soon after, fangs bared in frustration, relieving the pressure that threatened to break him.

He told himself it was fortunate she no longer reached for him as often, no longer brushed against him in casual touches. If she had, if she pressed the bond’s pull just a little harder, he could not guarantee restraint.

While Sesshoumaru fought daily against the fire curling in his veins, Kagome was fighting a quieter war—learning him. She had risked moving into his room and when he said nothing, merely lay down and went to sleep, relief had flowed through her. The thought of sleeping alone after dreaming of her own death was unbearable. He didn’t need to understand why. His silence had been permission enough.

Now two weeks have passed since his mother’s departure. The air had thickened with cold; winter was upon them. And with it came dread—because winter meant a year since her resurrection. A year bound to Sesshoumaru. A year of grief, healing, and turmoil she had pressed onto his shoulders.

Now, sitting on the engawa wrapped in the warm weight of his mokomoko, Kagome sipped steaming tea as sleet streaked the gray horizon. She should have felt miserable in the cold, but he had ensured she was warm before stepping into the storm himself.

And what a sight he was.

Mud stained his boots and hakama, but his upper body was bare to the biting air, muscles gleaming with a mixture of rain and sweat. Silver hair, tied high, lashed like a whip with each movement, catching the dull light as his sword sliced the air. He looked unreal—like something drawn from the pages of a fantasy novel brought to life. She, by contrast, sat bundled like a giant cotton ball, her face pink from the heat of the tea and something far more dangerous.

When he paused to swipe damp strands from his brow, Kagome’s gaze lingered. The mist of his breath curled in the air with every exhale, each pant emphasizing the controlled rise and fall of his chest. She flushed hotter, her tea forgotten. She had tried not to look when they bathed together—but now she regretted it.

His body was a contradiction: pale skin stretched over the breadth of his shoulders, the taut planes of his chest, the sculpted ridges of his abdomen. He looked at once impossibly strong and deceptively soft. The magenta stripes on his face and wrists seemed to blaze brighter against the bleak winter landscape, the marks at his hips half hidden but no less present to her eyes.

When he finally let his blade fall into the mud and stretched, Kagome’s breath caught. For the first time since she’d been brought back, she didn’t just want to understand him—she wanted to touch him. Not to test his moods or steady herself, but to feel the heat or cold of his skin beneath her palms. To know if he burned as fiercely as she felt now, or if he was truly made of ice.

The thought had barely formed when golden eyes snapped to her.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak—but the way he looked at her stole the air from her lungs. It was as though he’d plucked the desire straight from her mind, peeled her bare without lifting a single claw.

Panic surged, mortification chasing heat down her neck. She scrambled to her feet, abandoning mokomoko and spilling her tea in her haste, fleeing into the house before she could betray herself further.

Kagome wandered the halls with no real destination in mind, her thoughts tangled and restless. Maybe she ought to visit Rin and her family tomorrow—the comfort of their easy chatter might soften the strange tension in the house. For months, friends and allies had been filtering through, a constant buffer between her and Sesshoumaru. Now, with only the two of them under the same roof, the silence felt heavier… almost intimate.

She had always known Sesshoumaru was handsome—too perfect, really, in that untouchable, sculpted-from-marble way. But lately her mind had betrayed her, lingering too long on the sharpness of his cheekbones, the impossible length of his lashes, the power coiled beneath his thick forearms. Handsome was safe. Handsome was objective. But sexy? That was new. That word felt like opening a door she could never close.

The sudden press of a broad, damp palm against the small of her back made her yelp. She spun, heart in her throat, only to find herself beneath the golden gaze of a very tall, very wet Sesshoumaru. His hair was plastered to his temples, an open yukata clung to his body in damp streaks, and sweat and dirt marked his exposed skin. Yet somehow he managed to look… provocative. Feral, unpolished, and lethal in his beauty.

Life really wasn’t fair.

Kagome blinked up at him, caught between indignation and awe, while her brain decided to remind her of every inappropriate thought she’d had about him in the past week. His hand shifted from her back to her shoulder, guiding her a step to the side.

“If you are not intending to bathe,” he said smoothly even despite the faint steam rising from his skin, “then may I?”

Only then did she realize she was blocking the door to the bathhouse. Her mouth opened, apology ready—but his next words stole the breath from her.

“Unless,” he added, one brow arching, “you would prefer we bathe together again.”

Heat flooded her face so fast it was dizzying. Kagome went ramrod straight, her spine stiffening like a startled cat. Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first—only a strangled squeak that was more incriminating than silence.

“N-no thank you,” she finally blurted before darting past him in a blur of flustered movement.

What was happening to her?!