InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dancing with Scissors ❯ Picking Up the Pieces ( Chapter 27 )

Sesshoumaru strode to the guest house at twenty minutes after five. Finally, after waiting for what seemed like half a year, the timing was right—no looming trips out of the country, no art openings to prepare for, no excuses.

 

The half an hour he had spent cuddling with Rin, helping her register two of her new Webkinz online, gave him something on which to focus other than his upcoming date with Kagome, an event he had been thinking about all week. The distraction ended when Rin, who had been looking at him with increasing suspicion, asked what he was doing that night. He replied that he would tell her, but only if she could keep a secret. After Rin had nodded and solemnly crossed her heart, he told her he was taking Kagome out to dinner.

 

Sesshoumaru wasn't entirely certain the reason he didn't want his parents to know his plans. Perhaps it was his already-formed emotional attachment; perhaps it was the possibility that his parents would disapprove. His personal life had always been rather closely guarded, despite and because of his mother's probing little questions and unsubtle hints, though he never had cared too much about their opinions and had ever intentionally obfuscated. But there was something about this date that was different, something he wanted to keep private. Thankfully Rin seemed satisfied with the answer and didn't question him further.

 

After his parents had departed with Rin, he dressed for a night out, then looked for a suitably interesting distraction until it was time to retrieve Kagome. Finding none, he left, not caring that he was ten minutes early. He knocked and opened the door of the guest house, but instead of the expected wagging dog and loud music, he was met with silence.

 

“Kagome?” The only light came from the hallway. The faint illumination was enough—he saw her sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs and face hidden, dog curled up by her feet. He rushed across the room and knelt next to her. She was trembling, breath shallow. “Kagome, what happened?” She raised her head, but didn't look at him. Even in the dim light, he could see she appeared numb and confused. Something was very wrong.

 

“He's out,” she whispered. “The man who tried to kill me. He's out of jail.”

 

“Kagome…” Sesshoumaru moved to put an arm around. She flinched at first, instinctively self-protective, then relaxed against him. He wished he knew the right words to say, but had little practice offering comfort and could only hold her until the shaking subsided.

 

“Is it really five thirty?” she asked, voice hoarse and weary.

 

“Nearly. Are you okay?”

 

She shook her head. “I've been sitting here for an hour, trying not to fall apart. I don't know if I'm succeeding or failing spectacularly.” She put her head back down. “Pathetic, isn't it? I knew this would come someday…I always assumed I'd have Inuyasha and Kikyou to lean on. I never imagined I'd be alone.”

 

Gently he took her chin and turned her face to his. “You aren't alone.”

 

“No, I'm not.” She had many friends and counted him among them, but he hadn't seen her at rock bottom. “You don't have to stay.”

 

“I'm not going to leave you like this, Kagome.”

 

“Don't you understand?” she asked, forcing herself to look into his eyes. “This won't be pretty. I'm giving you a pass. Walk away, stay uninvolved, guilt-free.”

 

He had to admit, it hurt that she was pushing him away. “Do you really want me to go?”

 

Kagome was pure vulnerability, her face about to break. “I don't want to be alone. I want you to stay.” She shook her head and looked away. “I don't want you to see this side of me.”

 

The pain in her voice stabbed deeply. “Don't be afraid of me,” he said. “I want to help.”

 

She managed a nod before the tears began to fall. Sesshoumaru pulled her close and simply held her while she cried into his shoulder. The feeling of impotence was as unfamiliar as it was hated. He had a brief fantasy of finding this man and doing permanent, grievous bodily injury.

 

“I just want to run away and hide…but I don't know where to go.”

 

He briefly tightened his arms around her. “Stay here. Only your friends know where you live.”

 

She shook her head. “He's an internet search or two from finding me. I can't put your family at risk by staying here. Oh god,” she said, starting to panic, “what about Rin? I can't endanger Rin.”

 

Sesshoumaru gently gripped her shoulders and leaned her back. He was unwilling, especially now, to entertain the thought of her moving away. “Kagome, you are safest here. Now no more talk of leaving. I'll protect you.” Finally he could offer something useful.

 

“I don't want you to go through any trouble.”

 

He put a finger to her lips. “Stop.”

 

She heaved a ragged sigh. “I hate this. This fear.”

 

“You're safe with me, Kagome. I won't let anything happen to you.”

 

“It's more than that,” she confessed. “It's more than just being afraid of him finding me again.” She looked up into his face, taciturn and guarded as usual, but she also saw concern. She trusted him. “After the trial…he was locked up and couldn't hurt me, but that's when I got bad. That's when I lost it. All the fear and isolation and that unshakeable sense of worthlessness…it was too much.” She shuddered, remembering her slide into hell. “I am trying so desperately not to think about everything that happened six years ago, but that's what is haunting my mind. I feel like I'm reliving it. And I'm terrified of becoming that way again.”

 

“The Kagome I know wouldn't hurt herself. You are a different person than you were then.”

 

She shrugged. “Maybe?”

 

“Do you want to call Sango?”

 

“No,” she said. “She and Miroku are out for the evening. I don't want to bother them.”

 

He doubted Sango would consider it a bother, but didn't press the point. “Shall we get up off the floor? At least let's move to the sofa. The hardwood floors in this house are decidedly uncomfortable.”

 

He helped her to stand, and she, appreciative of his effort to lighten her mood, attempted a smile, which quickly deflated. He was dressed in an impeccable tailored dark grey suit that complimented his coloring sublimely. She was still wearing her dust and leaf-covered clothes and knew her hair and face weren't any cleaner. “You look…nice.” She winced at the lame description. “I'm sorry. I'm just not up for going out tonight. I ruined our dinner. I'm sorry.”

 

“Kagome, you have nothing for which to apologize. We can stay in.”

 

She looked at him, dumbfounded. “That free pass is still available. I'm just going to cry and freak out all night. Not very good company.”

 

“You can't get rid of me that easily.” Her laugh was barely audible, but a great gift nonetheless and went far in reassuring him that she wouldn't try to shut him out.

 

“Thanks.” She sniffled and self-consciously brushed dirt off her sleeve. “I could use a shower. I don't even need to look in a mirror to know I'm filthy.”

 

“Are you alright alone for a few minutes? I'd like to change out of this suit. I'll be back before you're finished.”

 

She nodded. “Bathing has always helped calm me down. Hopefully I won't be a basket case again by the time you get back.” She seemed frozen in place, awkward. “Will you do me a favor?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Kagome chewed on her lower lip, embarrassed to even ask. “Will you walk through the house with me to make sure it's empty?” She was relieved that he merely nodded and didn't treat her like a foolish child in need of indulgence. They went into each room, opening closets, and checked the basement and attic.

 

“Are you sure you're okay?” he asked when they were back in the living room.

 

“I've got my fierce, fuzzy shadow,” she said, scratching Oberon, who hadn't left her side, behind the ears. “Will you lock the door behind you on your way out? Shit. Do I sound paranoid?”

 

“No. You sound reasonable. I'll be back shortly.”

 

“The keys are on the coffee table.”

 

Sesshoumaru waited until he heard the sound of water running. Kagome's cell phone was sitting next to her keys. Despite having no idea what to say, he felt he had passed the first test, though knew there may be a rough night in store for them. He found Sango's number and hit DIAL.

 

“Hey babe, you just caught me. Need a last minute pep talk?”

 

“Sango, it's Sesshoumaru. Kagome just learned the man who assaulted her has been let out of prison.”

 

“Oh, god. Oh, poor Kagome. How is she?”

 

“She's gotten over the first shock, but she's quite unnerved. And afraid her depression will return.”

 

“Not surprising. I think the fact that she came damn close to killing herself has always lurked in the corner of her mind. Should I come over?”

 

“I'm handling it so far, but you may want to call later.”

 

“I will. And tell her I'll come over tomorrow. Shit. First Kikyou and Inuyasha and now this. I understand she's scared, but she has come such a long way. She'll be fine; she just needs to realize that.”

 

“What should I do for her in the meantime?”

 

“Keep her talking. Don't let her close up or withdraw. Her first reaction will be to feel like a burden, but don't let her push you away.”

 

“She's already tried. I won't. Good night, Sango. Enjoy your evening out.”

 

“If she has a panic attack, call me. I'll keep my cell with me.”

 

Keep her talking and don't let her withdraw. The simplicity belied the importance.

 

XxXxX

 

Kagome, cleansed of leaf dirt and tear stains, turned off the water and stepped from the shower. Under normal circumstances, she relished the heavy heat and moisture of a steamy bathroom and the indolence it brought out in her singing voice. She would take her time, lazily applying lotion and soaking up the luxurious scent to prolong the feeling of pampering, before having to go out into the chill and real world beyond the bathroom door. This time was different. Her nakedness left her feeling exposed and she couldn't find her voice. She dressed as quickly as she could, in clothes deemed safe—well-worn jeans and one of Inuyasha's old sweatshirts. Clothes she could run in. Clothes that hid her. Clothes that gave comfort. She pulled out the blowdryer and paused, remembering horror movies where the soon-to-be victim was engaged in mundane pursuits, unaware of the danger that lurked. She berated herself for being so ridiculous, but nonetheless quickly put it away and tied her dripping hair in a ponytail.

 

The air outside the bathroom was colder than she thought it would be.

 

Sesshoumaru, now attired in more casual khakis and navy cashmere V-neck, was seated on the couch with the dog, both waiting for her.

 

“May I join you?” She approached with hesitation, teeth chattering.

 

“Kagome, you're shivering. Come here.” Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he pulled her into his lap and grabbed the chenille throw on the back of the couch. “Better?” he asked, wrapping it around her.

 

Kagome blushed from the sudden, unexpected contact, but banished all thoughts of protesting the situation. His arms were warm and strong, his heartbeat against her chest steady. She wiggled her bare feet under Oberon. “Better.”

 

“How are you? Talk to me.”

 

Kagome was quiet a moment, still unsure about laying her soul bare. He knew the basics—the assault, ensuing depression, suicide attempt—and she had shown him the art she had made during recovery, an act of trust itself, but old insecurities still picked at her. “Wavering between fine and not so fine? One moment I think I am okay, then my heart speeds up and I get queasy. I hate this weakness. I hate you seeing me this way.”

 

“You are't weak, Kagome. You never were.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder. I've spent the past six years living in a protective bubble, one of my own making. I built it as a matter of survival, but it became a crutch, a place to hide and not face my fears.”

 

He began to lightly stroke the damp hair at her brow, tucking strays behind her ear. “What do you mean?” Keep her talking.

 

“After I put the PTSD behind,” she began, “I began to reclaim myself as a sexual person. It seemed as vital as reclaiming my art. I started out with purely physical attachments, nothing that would require taking any real emotional risks, nothing that would let another person into my heart or my spirit. I regained control of that part of my life, but I did it by avoiding anything resembling a normal romantic relationship. I purposely chose men I knew weren't interested in a commitment or men I knew, for whatever reason, I wouldn't be with after more than a few weeks. I was so careful not to get too close. But I guess I was too careful. When I was ready for something more, fate played me for a fool. The first guy I went out with whom I could actually envision taking a chance on was totally wrong. He wasn't an asshole or anything, but I freaked out and retreated completely. For almost two years, I haven't let anyone get near me, on any level. And there you have a brief history of my dating avoidance. I was trying to be safe, but instead I turned into an emotional cripple.”

 

“Stop exaggerating,” he chided. Nothing struck him more than her ability to recognize her feelings and deal with them rather than pushing them aside. “You are one of the most emotionally secure people I've ever known.”

 

She stiffened and snorted a cynical laugh. “That statement doesn't speak highly of your acquaintances.”

 

“Kagome, look at how you bounced back from your sister and Inuyasha's deaths. In the midst of your grief, sudden new responsibilities were thrust on you; you had to juggle a move and work and supporting Rin, and you did it all beautifully. My family challenging your guardianship certainly didn't make it any easier.” He paused, waiting to see if she would argue. “I'm an expert on the effectiveness of the bottling up one's emotions. My whole childhood was spent cultivating denial. You've faced a difficult situation, acknowledged your sadness, and became stronger because of it.”

 

Kagome felt like he had opened her eyes and showed her a hidden side of herself, one she knew existed but had pushed aside. “You're right. I did okay.” She relaxed again. “Thanks.” Sesshoumaru's fingers were gently stroking the fine downy hair at the nape of her neck that escaped her hasty attempt at tying it back. She sighed in bliss. “Your brother used to do that. Too many times to count…hungover, sick, sad. Kikyou said he did it to her too.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Play with those little hairs. It was his modus operandi of giving comfort. And if he was in the right mood he would hum Claire de Lune.”

 

Memories, long forgotten, returned with a jolt and left Sesshoumaru feeling blindsided. Throughout their childhoods, the Taisho boys had developed a sixth sense of when their mother needed to be left alone and when she could handle their company. On the good days, they would lie in bed with her while she stroked their white hair, paying close attention to the sensitive backs of their necks, as she told them stories. The brothers regarded these times as precious and ceased any fighting, neither willing to risk being sent away. Occasionally she would leave her sanctuary and venture into the music room and play, always ending with the same piece. “Claire de Lune is my mother's favorite song.”

 

Kagome heard something unexpected in his voice—the cutting, unmistakable sound of melancholy. She looked up; his face was impassive, but behind those amber eyes was intense emotion. “Sesshoumaru…I'm sorry you had such a sucky childhood.”

 

“It had its bright spots.”

 

“Will you tell me more sometime? Through talking to your mom and looking at photos, I've managed to fill in some blanks about Inuyasha. I don't know as much about you.”

 

“Maybe someday.”

 

Kagome didn't press. It had taken a long series of baby steps to get Inuyasha to open up. She recognized that, though he was pulling away, the door was left ajar.

 

“I'm having a hard time thinking of my brother humming anything, much less Claire de Lune.”

 

She grinned. “It wasn't often. Usually he sang some silly, atonal, made-up song like Kikyou, Don't Take Work So Seriously or Kagome, When Will You Learn That Tequila Is Not Your Friend.” His deep laugh reverberated through her chest like a purr, making her laugh too. She didn't know what to think about their physical closeness and wasn't up to careful analysis, but at that time it didn't matter—it was helping. She looked up at him. “Thanks. For staying and talking to me. Sorry I got your sweater wet.”

 

“You're welcome. Thanks for the memory. Think nothing of it.”

 

They sat in silence, Kagome resting against him, content and confident in his presence that she could allow the sadness and fear to wash over her and still be safe. “Are you getting hungry?” she asked after several minutes. “I made you cancel dinner reservations; I suppose now I need to feed you.”

 

Her tone was teasing, and he decided she could handle some of the same. “It's the least you can do…considering I obviously won't be getting a piece of ass tonight.”

 

The comment shocked her, and she bolted upright. He had surprised her before, but something so wickedly funny, so entirely inappropriate had her wondering if she had been hit on the head or transported to an alternate dimension. Recovery was quick and she laughed, joyous and appreciative. “I've said it before and I'll say it again. I love your sense of humor. You're lucky I went to the grocery yesterday and stocked up on Top Ramen. You won't have to eat peanut butter on toast.”

 

XxXxX

 

Dinner was several steps above the threatened instant ramen. Kagome made her favorite version of Pad Thai. Sesshoumaru learned the ins and outs of defrosting, peeling, and deveining shrimp. Kagome got to show off her impressive collection of imported and domestic hot sauces.

 

Sesshoumaru, already in love, fell even harder.

 

XxXxX

 

Dishes done, Kagome and Sesshoumaru made a pot of green tea and went back into the living room; Kagome, after a moment hesitation, took her previous spot on his lap, nestled against him. It felt right, like slipping on a beloved article of clothing.

 

While they were cleaning up the kitchen, Kagome had a small setback. Mr. and Mrs. Taisho returned with Rin, and Kagome feared the girl would see the lights on, come to say goodnight, and worry when she realized her aunt was upset. Sesshoumaru called his father and gave an abbreviated version of the news, followed by a request to keep Rin with them. Kagome was beset by guilt, afraid his parents would be angry that she was exposing them to possible harm, but they were only concerned for her welfare. Gratitude made her weepy, but fortunately she got over it without much effort.

 

Now, ensconced under the throw and sipping tea together, Sesshoumaru took satisfaction from her closeness; she continued to seek safety and comfort in his arms. “May I ask you something about Inuyasha?" Though not completely herself, Sesshoumaru thought she was doing okay, but he was unsure if talking about his brother would make her sad again.

 

“Of course.”

 

“When we were kids, he used to shut himself in the bathroom.”

 

Kagome smiled softly. “And stay in there for like an hour? Yeah, he still did it. Kikyou called it his Daily Ritual.”

 

“My parents were convinced he had some kind of undiagnosed digestive disorder, but it turned out he just wanted to escape from our family for a little while.”

 

“Yep. He said it was the only place in the apartment where he could have a few minutes without women harassing him.” She sighed wistfully. “When I first started living with him and my sister, I thought he was looking at porn, but he mostly just wanted privacy to read comic books and not be pestered. I guess everyone needs his own little corner of the universe.” She leaned over to set her tea cup on the coffee table, then snuggled up to him again. “You feel nice. I'm getting spoiled. Tell me something else.”

 

He untied her hair and worked his fingers through the still-damp weight, spreading it across her shoulders. “Such as?”

 

“Tell me one of those bright spots.”

 

He didn't have to think long. There was one memory that stuck out. One memory that he had replayed countless times his first year in boarding school when he missed his family most. A memory he could share with her. “On my mother's thirtieth birthday, Inuyasha and I called a truce and made her breakfast in bed. Breakfast consisted of what an eight and a five year old were capable of producing, meaning toast and cereal, and served in the manner we assumed everyone ate. It never occurred to us that an adult may not desire toast so covered in honey it was practically floating or Frosted Flakes with extra sugar.”

 

Kagome laughed. “Oh shit. Did she eat it?”

 

“Every bit. Then she had a long cry, full of apologies and promises, got dressed, and took us to see Return of the Jedi. I had been waiting most of summer for my father to take me, but he was always too busy, and I lived in fear that I wouldn't get to see it before it left the theaters. It didn't matter that Inuyasha was really too young and got frightened during the fun parts. It didn't matter that Jedi wasn't half as good as The Empire Strikes Back. I felt a little bit like a normal kid that day. When my father got home and heard what mother had done, he was amazed. She didn't leave the house very often during those years. He had some roses for her birthday and was planning to go back to work that night. Instead he blew off the shareholders meeting and took us to a steakhouse to celebrate.” He could still remember the smell of the flowers and night breeze blowing through the open car windows on the drive home.

 

Kagome was staring at him, eyes wide and serious. “Good story.”

 

“Sometimes it's nice to let someone else into that private corner of the universe.”

 

“Yeah. It is.” For the first time since opening the letter, Kagome felt her life wasn't spinning out of control. “Hey…it's been like five or ten minutes since I thought about how fucked up I am.”

 

“I told you,” he said. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit.”

 

They finished the tea and stayed together, quietly talking about Rin, the glowing progress report they had received the day before from her preschool, and her grandfather's pride in her. After the third yawn in five minutes, Kagome glanced at the digital display on the DVD player.

 

“I can't believe how sleepy I am. It's not even ten yet.”

 

“I saw lights on in here when I got up at six. What were you doing up so early?”

 

“Cake decorating. What were you doing up?”

 

“I usually get up at six. This morning I was hoping to work for a few hours before Kendo.”

 

Kagome knew he frequently went to the office on weekends, but six on Saturday morning without absolute necessity seemed sacrilegious. “Your boss must really be a jerk.”

 

A rebellious corner of his mouth curled upward. “I've managed to delegate quite a bit of authority, I'll have you know. We're just really busy right now. A lot of things are coming to a head at once.”

 

She nodded, unconvinced. "It's a sickness. You need help.”

 

“If you're tired, you should go to bed,” he said, giving her a gentle, retributive poke in the ribs. “Catch up on some sleep.”

 

Kagome didn't know what this new intimacy between them meant, but she didn't want it to end. Too bad we can't stay here forever. “I hope I'm able to sleep at all. I have a bad feeling that once I'm alone, every little noise will scare me out of my skin. I have a problem with overactive imagination when I'm stressed out.” Her heart immediately started racing as soon as she thought about the words paroled, released. “Shit.”

 

“Do you want me to stay?”

 

She sat up a little and looked at him to see if he was serious or making fun of her. “I…uh…stay?” she faltered.

 

“Just this night, in case you have trouble sleeping or you wake and need to talk. I'll sit with you until you fall asleep then move to the sofa. I don't mind,” he said quickly when she started to protest. “Go get ready for bed. I'll let the dog out.”

 

Part of Kagome wanted to argue—she couldn't rely on him and had to face her fears. A much louder part knew better than to refuse his offer. “There's an extra toothbrush under the sink.” She gave him a quick hug and went into the bathroom.

 

Twenty minutes later, Sesshoumaru went into Kagome's room. She was lying on half the bed and smiled up dreamily at him. The dog was already sprawled out across her legs, a black mass against the quilt. He sat on the vacant side and smoothed the hair out of her face.

 

“Soooo…are you some kind of masochist, hell bent on prolonging the worst date in history?”

 

“Hardly the worst date in history.”

 

“Oh really,” she scoffed despite being half-asleep. “Consoling a self-pitying idiot isn't fun in anyone's book.”

 

“I thought tonight was much more than that.”

 

Kagome nodded and closed her eyes. “You're right. It was.” She reached up and took his hand, twining her fingers through his. “Stay here tonight. Don't go to the couch.”

 

Sesshoumaru watched as her breathing slowed and sleep claimed her. He admired her inner strength and the ease and steadiness, despite burdens, with which she navigated life. She was a survivor. Her vulnerabilities softened her, but didn't weaken. He was grateful to have someone to protect, to be needed, but in truth, he needed her just as much.

 

XxXxX

 

When Kagome woke, though the sun had only just began to brighten her bedroom, she felt more refreshed than she had in any morning in recent memory. Her sleep had been deep, dreamless, and uninterrupted. Sesshoumaru was next to her, barely touching under the heavy covers. He was serene in sleep, and she tore herself away, lest she give in to temptation and touch his ethereal face and, god forbid, wake him.

 

Kagome slid silently out of bed and slipped on her robe, motioning for Oberon to follow.

 

Dog let out, she stretched her arms up, embracing the world around her.

 

She had made it through the first night. She felt confident and grounded and oddly powerful. She felt, truly, for the first time, that though there may be trials ahead, she would be fine. Her depression was no longer a constant threat, and her suicide attempt was part of her history, not her future. Sesshoumaru had helped, but her strength was her own.

 

Kikyou's guitar was standing up in a corner, beckoning her. She took it out of its case and sat, feeling her sister's creative energy infused in the instrument. It wasn't an expensive guitar, but well-made for the cost. The presence of her sister was beyond price. After tuning it, she strummed a few chords of the songs she and Drew had been working on, but quickly turned to the folksongs she and Kikyou used to play together. The musical version of comfort food. It started with Dar Williams, her sister's favorite, and continued with Lucy Kaplansky and Rosanne Cash, going further back in time to Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez.

 

It was high time for Kikyou's ghost to assert herself. Kagome felt warm, like she had been kissed.

 

XxXxX

 

Sesshoumaru woke to an empty bed and the far-off sound of music. Briefly confused, he rubbed sleep from his eyes and went into the living room.

 

Kagome was sitting on a chair, playing an acoustic guitar and singing. He listened, said nothing, merely absorbed the lilting sound and sublime language in the story of the song.

An earthly nurse sits and sings, 
And aye, she sings by lily wean, 
Sayin "little ken I my bairn's father, 
Far less the land where he dwells in." 

For he came on night to her bed feet, 
And a grumbly guest, I'm sure was he, 
Saying "Here am I, thy bairn's father, 
Although I be not comely." 

"I am a man upon the land, 
I am a silkie on the sea, 
And when I'm far and far frae land, 
My home it is in Sule Skerrie." 

And he had ta'en a purse of gold 
And he had placed it upon her knee, 
Saying, "Give to me my little young son, 
And take thee up thy nurse's fee." 

"And it shall come to pass on a summer's day, 
When the sun shines bright on every stane, 
I'll come and fetch my little young son, 
And teach him how to swim the faem." 

"And ye shall marry a gunner good, 
And a right fine gunner I'm sure he'll be, 
And the very first shot that e'er he shoots 
Will kill both my young son and me."

 

Kagome finished and stopped to pet Oberon, then noticed Sesshoumaru standing near the kitchen. She put the guitar back in the case and went to him. “Good morning, sleepy head,” she said playfully.

 

“You sing beautifully, Kagome.”

 

“My sister had a morbid fascination with angsty folksongs. That was one of her favorites, about a shape-shifter. Something about unrequited love, and better yet, tragic love triangles had her heart doing flip flops. We used to play a lot together.”

 

“How are you?” he asked.

 

“Good. Great.” She looped her arm through his. “How about we go next door and wake everybody up. I wanna make a triple batch of pancakes. And a huge pot of coffee.”

 

Sesshoumaru smiled to himself. She was back. Kagome at her best.

 

“I'd love to.”

 

They left the guest house together; Sesshoumaru made sure Oberon followed.

 

&&&

 

I do not own Inuyasha, Webkinz, Top Ramen,Frosted Flakes, Return of the Jedi, The Empire Strikes Back, or any music by Debussy. Thank you for reading! The next chapter takes place on (American) Thanksgiving, so I hope to have it out in the next few days…given my track record, a laughable goal, but I will try!