Chapter Text
Kagome, the woman’s actual name, discovered only after he’d had to come back and ask for her number and address, thereby confirming Vixen was not, in fact, a regrettable birth certificate choice as his family believed, sat across from him in the softly lit restaurant. Candlelight did its best to romanticize the situation, glinting off crystal glasses like it had a personal stake in the evening’s success.
The wine arrived before the food, as wine often did when it sensed emotional tension. A deep, dramatic ruby, it swirled obligingly as Kagome took a sip, clearly comfortable in a setting that suggested this was not her first encounter with overpriced alcohol or questionable decisions. However, she is a beauty. Her hair was pinned up neatly, a few soft tendrils curling to frame her face, and she wore a dark blue dress that caught the light with subtle shimmer. Sesshomaru’s golden eyes traced the lines of her profile almost unconsciously, her delicate jaw, the curve of her neck, the thoughtful tilt of her head as she sipped.
He said nothing, merely observing. The wine cooled in the glasses as the restaurant buzzed quietly around them, couples chatting, servers moving gracefully between tables. He noted the way her fingers lingered on the stem of her glass, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders with each breath.
Finally, after a long moment, he spoke, his voice measured, calm, perfectly even. “You look… well presented,” he said.
Kagome blinked at him, caught off guard, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice low and warm. “You… you look good too.”
Sesshomaru inclined his head slightly, noting her words. She was not flustered, not awkward or fumbling with compliments, just honest. That alone drew his attention deeper.
He sipped his wine, the rich taste grounding him, while the quiet hum of the restaurant seemed to shrink until it was only the two of them.
“So,” Kagome murmured, her finger tracing the rim of her glass as she leaned forward just slightly, “I do have a question before we proceed with the evening.”
Sesshomaru cleared his throat, his composure immaculate. “I do have an answer,” he said evenly.
She smiled, mischievous but gentle, eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “Does your asking me on a date have anything to do with Rin’s wish for a younger sibling?”
Sesshomaru blinked, momentarily thrown. Of all the reasonable, polite, even mundane questions he might have expected…
Her question was straightforward, direct and entirely reasonable.
He studied her for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching, he did not smile often, but something in her calm curiosity made him want to.
“My family,” he began carefully, voice still steady but with just the faintest edge of exasperation, “believes that I should end my bachelor lifestyle, properly settle down with a wife, and have more children for years now.” He paused to take another sip of wine, eyes flicking briefly to hers. “I asked you,” he continued, “because I have yet to meet a woman who piques my interest. It is… merely coincidence that Rin’s desire for a younger sibling coincides with meeting you.”
Kagome tilted her head, trying not to laugh at the deadpan delivery. “Ah,” she said softly, “so I’m like… the cosmic alignment of children’s wishes and adult responsibilities?”
Sesshomaru regarded her carefully. “You are accurate, though phrased poorly.”
She chuckled, and the sound was warm and light, threading into the quiet of the restaurant. “Well, I think that’s the nicest way anyone’s ever told me I’m convenient.”
His gaze flicked to her again, golden eyes serious yet softened by the faintest hint of amusement. “Convenience is… practical. Desirable, even. But it does not preclude admiration or interest.”
Kagome laughed again, softly shaking her head. “You’re very… clinical about this, aren’t you?”
“I am honest,” he said simply. “Practical, observant, and occasionally hesitant when dealing with human emotionality.”
She grinned. “Occasionally hesitant? You mean every time you’re near me?”
He paused. Then, quietly, with just the faintest lift of his head, he said, “Perhaps. But it is… tolerable.”
Kagome blinked at him, then smiled widely, amused. “Well… I guess I can tolerate you too.”
After dinner, they walked through the park, coats snug, scarves wrapped just so, the crisp winter air tinged with pine and roasted chestnuts. Strings of Christmas lights traced the paths and trees, their soft glow reflecting off icy puddles and coating the world in gold.
At first, Sesshomaru walked beside her in his usual posture, perfectly straight, hands tucked into his coat pockets, expression unreadable. Kagome, however, had no intention of being intimidated.
“You know,” she said, skipping slightly to match his stride, “this place is way prettier than I expected. I mean, look at that tree!” She pointed to a towering spruce adorned in red and gold ornaments. “I’ve been walking past it for years, and I never noticed how amazing it looks at night.”
Sesshomaru glanced at the tree. “…It is acceptable,” he replied, tone flat.
Kagome’s grin widened. “Acceptable?” She tilted her head, the snow catching in her pinned up hair. “I’m glad I’m here to raise your standards.”
He said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched just slightly.
They continued walking, the crunch of snow beneath their boots the only sound for a moment. Then she spotted a small coffee cart tucked under a lamp post. “Warm drinks?” she asked brightly. “I could really use something sweet.”
“I will have coffee. Black,” Sesshomaru said, perfectly calm.
Kagome’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ll have a hot chocolate… with whipped cream, peppermint, and cinnamon.”
Sesshomaru’s golden eyes widened fractionally. He regarded her with a flat stare, silent judgment weighing heavy.
“You want to try it?” she asked, her tone teasing.
“…Very well,” he said after a brief pause, taking the cup from the vendor and sipping cautiously. The warmth spread through him, followed by the odd sweetness lingering on his tongue. Not as terrible as he expected. Perhaps… even pleasant.
“See?” she said, grinning. “Not so bad, right?”
“Acceptable,” he admitted, inclining his head once.
As they continued walking along the illuminated path, Kagome’s curiosity peeked out again. “So… what do you do in your spare time?” she asked, eyes bright.
Sesshomaru’s expression remained calm, but there was the faintest exhale of hesitation. “…When I am not working, I am with Rin or my family,” he said evenly.
Kagome frowned, a small crease forming between her brows. “And hobbies? Anything you do just for yourself?”
He paused. “…I do not have anything of note.”
“That’s… sad,” she said softly, and for once he felt a brief tug of guilt at her words.
After a moment, he admitted, “I… do enjoy reading.”
Her face lit up instantly, beaming like a Christmas tree. “You do? Me too! I love reading!”
He turned slightly, genuinely surprised. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she said, laughter in her voice. “I actually own a bookstore.”
Sesshomaru’s golden eyes widened fractionally. “…A bookstore?”
She laughed again, the sound warm and bright against the winter air. “Did you just assume I worked as a reindeer?”
Sesshomaru’s lips twitched in an almost imperceptible grimace. “I admit… your beauty distracted me from asking any vital, basic information.”
Kagome shook her head, laughing softly as she nudged his arm lightly. “I guess I’ll forgive you… this time.”
Sesshomaru inclined his head slightly, a faint warmth tugging at his chest. He regarded her carefully, the faint glow of the Christmas lights catching in her hair. “…How did you come to work as a reindeer?”
Kagome grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, that? Well…” She twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger, clearly enjoying the story. “My friend Sango had promised to work there, but she got sick at the last minute. So she begged me to fill in for her.”
“Filled in?” Sesshomaru repeated, voice perfectly even, though a flicker of amusement crossed his golden eyes.
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I mean… antlers, glitter, posing for a hundred photos with sugar crazed children… It’s exhausting, but… kind of fun too.” She laughed, a sound so bright it seemed to warm the night air around them. “And, well, Santa and the elves were surprisingly nice about it.”
Sesshomaru’s gaze softened slightly. “…It seems… an unusual assignment for someone like you.”
Kagome’s grin widened. “Unusual? Maybe. But it was worth it, especially to see Rin’s little face light up. I think she’s… really special.” She glanced at him, warm and sincere. “And, um… I’m glad I got to meet you, too.”
Sesshomaru felt the faintest tug in his chest, an acknowledgment he would never voice aloud, of how rare it was for someone to talk to him so openly and without fear. He inclined his head once more, the smallest hint of approval in his expression.
“I see,” he said softly. “It appears you handled the task… admirably.”
Kagome laughed again, nudging his arm playfully. “Thanks. You know, not everyone gets to work in costume and survive a stampede of sugar high children without losing their mind.”
Sesshomaru’s lips twitched, almost, just almost, a smile. “I imagine patience is required,” he said evenly.
She tilted her head, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Patience and… a little bit of insanity,” she teased.
For the first time all evening, Sesshomaru let the tension in his shoulders loosen, just enough to match the soft warmth growing in his chest. Somehow, in the midst of peppermint, twinkling lights, and her easy laughter, he found himself… enjoying this absurd, delightful distraction.
Kagome glanced up at him, her grin infectious. “See? Even someone like you can have fun.”
He inclined his head slightly, golden eyes meeting hers. “…Perhaps,” he said, the faintest trace of something warmer beneath the calm precision of his words.
He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow they had ended up at her apartment. Kagome had invited him in with a soft smile, offering a glass of wine and a plate of sugarplum pastries she had baked herself. The aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, and butter lingered in the air, comforting and domestic in a way that both startled and quietly pleased him.
Her living room was a haven of quiet charm. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, some leather bound and ancient, others modern with colorful spines and playful illustrations. Small stacks of novels were scattered on tables and chairs, with a cozy throw draped across a worn armchair. It was lived in, warm, and inviting.
They sat together on the sofa, Kagome curling her legs beneath her as she offered him a plate. Sesshomaru accepted, moving with his usual precision, yet the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease in the warmth of the room.
“You baked these?” he asked, voice calm but edged with a note of genuine admiration as he took a bite.
“Yes,” she said, smiling brightly. “Do you like them?”
He inclined his head slightly, chewing deliberately. “They are… well made. Flavors balanced, textures precise. Your skills are commendable.”
Kagome’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she laughed, a soft, musical sound that filled the room. “Thank you! I suppose that means I’ll have to cook for you next time, then.”
Sesshomaru’s eyes flicked to her, golden and steady. “…I would welcome that.”
Her grin widened. “Good. It’s a promise, then.”
For a moment, the conversation fell away, leaving only the quiet ambiance of the apartment, the soft flicker of the lamp, the faint hum of city sounds beyond the window, and the occasional crunch of pastry between teeth.
Kagome picked up a book from a nearby shelf and handed it to him. “Read with me?” she asked softly, her shoulder brushing his as she settled beside him.
Sesshomaru inclined his head, careful yet willing, taking the book into his hands. He felt the warmth of her presence next to him, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to relax completely.
As he read, Kagome nestled closer, resting her head lightly against his arm. He let his arm move subtly around her shoulders, the movement almost instinctive, protective. His demon senses, the sharp instincts honed over centuries alerted him to her every subtle shift, her comfort, her warmth, and he responded by providing exactly that, safety, steadiness, and care.
The wine warmed him from the inside out, the sugarplum pastries sweet and comforting, and the words on the page became a shared rhythm, a soft intimacy that did not need declarations or fanfare. Occasionally, Kagome would point out a favorite passage or make a quiet comment, and he would reply with careful attentiveness, listening, noticing, and engaging.
With each page, with each soft laugh or whispered remark, Sesshomaru felt his confidence grow, not in battle or negotiation, but in this strange, unfamiliar arena of human closeness. He could provide for her, protect her if she were to become his wife. He could be present and strong without being overbearing, letting warmth and affection seep through his usual stoic.
By the time they had read for an hour, the book resting forgotten on his lap, Kagome was buried lightly into his side, small and asleep. Sesshomaru’s arm remained around her, thinking in the silence that was her apartment before he too fell asleep.
“I take it you slept with the stripper,” his father mused, swirling whiskey in his glass with that sly, expectant grin.
“This one did no such thing.” Sesshomaru replied flatly.
“Pity.”
“Nor is she a stripper.”
His father raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what did you gather from your date with the… not striper?”
Sesshomaru leaned back, hands folded neatly on his lap, golden eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his own glass. He spoke slowly, deliberately, as though reading from a report. “Her name is Kagome. She owns a bookstore. Lives in an apartment. Enjoys reading, particularly classic literature and historical novels. Maintains a highly organized personal library, with shelves arranged by genre, author, and chronological publication. She is a skilled baker, produces pastries with precise texture, balance, and flavor. Prefers wine that complements desserts rather than overwhelms them. Has a best friend named Sango, who occasionally involves her in… temporary employment as a reindeer.”
His father blinked, then laughed. “Wow. That’s… thorough.”
Sesshomaru inclined his head slightly, as if that were the only appropriate response. “She is a remarkable conversationalist. Engages with wit, humor, and intelligence. Speaks comfortably about herself without indulgence or pretense. Listens attentively, remembers details, and responds appropriately to nuanced commentary.”
“Right,” his father said, smirking. “And… is she… attractive?”
“Her beauty is considerable,” Sesshomaru replied without hesitation. “Striking, yet unpretentious. Eyes expressive, hair maintained with care. Poise and posture indicate confidence without arrogance. Clothing choices demonstrate taste and an awareness of aesthetics. All factors indicate a highly accomplished, self sufficient, and socially adept individual.”
There was a pause as his father stared at him, trying not to laugh. “You’re… basically reading her résumé as a love interest.”
“I am cataloging observable traits,” Sesshomaru said evenly. “As one would when assessing potential… suitability for marriage, both in practical and recreational terms.”
His father snorted, nearly spilling his whiskey. “Recreational terms, huh? That’s… a new one for you, Sesshomaru.”
Sesshomaru sipped his own glass, eyes narrowing just slightly. “…She is also amusing in her mannerisms. Makes jokes and laughs genuinely, not as a performative gesture. Displays warmth without weakness, intelligence without arrogance. Capable of challenging conversation. Pleasant to observe in multiple contexts, including, but not limited to dining, walking, and… seasonal festivities.”
His father coughed into his glass, stifling laughter. “You are serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Sesshomaru said, utterly earnest. “She is impressive. I am impressed. These are facts.”
“And,” his father said slowly, a grin spreading across his face, “you didn’t even have to fight anyone for her?”
Sesshomaru inclined his head slightly. “…Correct. No conflict required. She is agreeable by design, yet not subservient. An ideal companion for both strategic observation and personal… interaction.”
His father laughed outright this time. “I swear, you could write a dossier on her and call it a romance novel.”
Sesshomaru said nothing, but there was a faint, imperceptible satisfaction in the way he set his glass down. The facts were undeniable. The observations precise and the truth… was that he rather liked her, even if he didn’t bother saying it aloud.
“If she is to become my wife,” Sesshomaru said, voice flat, measured, “…she must also meet the requirements to be a suitable mother for Rin.”
His father raised an eyebrow, swirling his whiskey. “Doesn’t Rin already like her?”
Sesshomaru’s golden eyes narrowed slightly, calculating. “Yes. However, children are easily deceived. Initial impressions are not reliable indicators of long term compatibility. Rin may like anyone who smiles and offers sweets. That does not ensure the capacity for care, guidance, or emotional stability.”
His father chuckled. “You make it sound like you’re vetting generals for the company, not a woman for a courtship.”
“I am assessing strategic compatibility,” Sesshomaru replied evenly, eyes narrowing in thought. “This is a matter of long term consequence. She must demonstrate qualities beyond charm or superficial warmth. Patience, kindness, intelligence, adaptability. Capacity for emotional labor, nurturing instincts, and… suitability to manage domestic responsibilities when required.”
His father laughed outright this time, nearly spilling his drink. “You really do take everything seriously, don’t you?”
“I do not exaggerate,” Sesshomaru said flatly. “There is no margin for error when it comes to Rin. Her well being is non negotiable.”
His father leaned back, shaking his head in amusement. “So what’s the plan, then? You’re going to test her?”
Sesshomaru inclined his head slightly, tone calm but decisive. “Yes. Invite her to dinner tonight. Observe how she interacts with Rin, the hell that is my family. Gather data. Assess temperament, adaptability, and her ability to integrate into the household dynamic.”
“Ah,” his father said slowly, a grin spreading. “So tonight, we get to watch Sesshomaru run social simulations instead of business simulations. This should be… interesting.”
Sesshomaru said nothing, merely finishing the last of his whiskey with precise, controlled movements. “Prepare accordingly,” he added. “Ensure Rin is occupied and content. I will determine the level of engagement she can handle. Dinner will be structured, beverages monitored. Conversation topics shall include literature, familial dynamics, and personal philosophy. Humor may be tested, but only in controlled doses.”
His father blinked, then chuckled. “You’re really treating this like a full on tactical operation, aren’t you?”
“Precisely,” Sesshomaru said, voice calm, tone final. “This is an operation of the utmost importance. Failure is… not an option.”
His father raised his glass in mock salute. “Well, then. To Rin’s happiness and your very serious, very Sesshomaru way of handling romance.”
Sesshomaru inclined his head slightly, expression unreadable. “…To Rin’s happiness.”
His father stared, “you’re in love.”
“Perhaps.”
Kagome stood before the sprawling estate, its edges lined with twinkling icicle lights, reindeer statues in the yard, and warm golden lights spilling from every window. The air smelled faintly of pine and roasting chestnuts, and she shivered slightly, both from the winter chill and the nerves fluttering in her chest.
She rang the doorbell once, and before she could adjust her scarf, the door swung open. Warm air rushed out, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and something faintly sweet of pastries, perhaps.
A tall demon with amber eyes stood framed in the doorway, older, regal, and undeniably handsome. Kagome blinked. This must be Sesshomaru’s father.
“You must be Kagome,” he said, his voice low, rich, and timbered.
“It’s… a pleasure to meet you,” she said, smiling brightly, trying to steady her nerves.
“My son was right,” he said, a faint hint of a grin tugging at his lips, “you are quite the beauty.”
Kagome’s cheeks flushed, but she inclined her head politely. “Thank you, sir.”
“Come in, come in,” he said smoothly, stepping aside. “It is cold out. You must be frozen.”
She stepped into the grand foyer, her eyes widening at the vaulted ceilings, the sparkling garlands, and the soft glow of lights reflecting off polished floors. Before she could take it all in, a graceful woman approached, she was the epitome of elegance and serenity, her presence commanding yet kind.
“Kagome,” she said warmly, extending a hand. “I’m Inukimi, Sesshomaru’s mother.”
Kagome took her hand, smiling. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“And this is my fiancé, Kagura,” Inukimi added with a small laugh, indicating a tall, gentle looking woman beside her. Kagome’s eyes softened as she offered a polite nod.
“Pleasure,” Kagome said softly.
From behind them, another figure appeared, a striking woman with confidence and poise, her eyes sharp but welcoming. “I’m Izayoi,” she said, inclining her head. “Toga’s second wife.”
Inukimi assessed her, “so you’re the woman my son has been… rather distracted by.”
Kagome laughed lightly, nerves easing slightly. “Distracted in a good way, I hope.”
Her lips curved in amusement. “I believe so. At least… I hope so.”
The three adults exchanged a glance, and Kagome felt the warmth of subtle approval radiating from them.
“Please,” Toga said, gesturing toward a table set with glasses and a bottle of red wine, “sit. Let us make you comfortable. Wine?”
Kagome accepted with a nod. “Thank you, I’d love some.”
Inukimi poured a glass for her with a gentle smile. “So, Kagome, tell us about yourself. Tell me about your family?”
Kagome took a slow sip, setting the glass down before speaking. “Well… when my father died, I was still quite young. My mother moved in with my father’s father not long after my younger brother, Sota, was born. I grew up on a shrine, surrounded by traditions, books, and… a lot of quiet.”
She paused, letting the words settle in the warm air of the room. Her gaze flicked briefly toward Toga, and then toward the other women seated around the table. “I suppose I inherited my love for stories from those quiet evenings, reading everything I could get my hands on.”
Inukimi nodded, clearly intrigued. “And what do you do now?”
“I run a bookstore,” Kagome said, a small smile playing at her lips. “It started as a dream when I was in high school. I loved reading so much, I wanted to share that with others. After graduating, I realized I could make a life of it, so I opened a small shop in my neighborhood. It’s nothing huge, just… cozy. But I love it.”
Izayoi leaned forward, curiosity shining in her eyes. “And college? Did you not go?”
Kagome’s smile softened, tinged with a quiet melancholy. “I… considered it. But my grandfather passed around that time, and my mother’s health began to decline. Sota had just entered high school, and I wanted to stay close to both of them. I chose to prioritize my family over my own desires. It was… not an easy choice, but it felt right. I’ve never regretted it, though. I’ve been able to be there for my mother and brother, and my little shop… it’s been its own kind of fulfillment.”
Inukimi’s expression softened, her gaze sharp but warm. “That is… very admirable, Kagome. To choose family first, and still create something of your own. That speaks volumes about your character.”
Izayoi nodded in agreement, smiling gently. “It also explains your quiet confidence. You’ve carried responsibility from a young age, and it’s shaped you into someone strong and independent.”
Kagome’s cheeks flushed slightly at the praise, but she laughed softly, waving it off. “I suppose you could say that. I just… did what needed to be done.”
Toga lifted his glass toward her, a mischievous glint in his amber eyes. “Ah, a dangerous answer,” he said cheerfully. “That’s exactly what people say right before they become indispensable members of the family.”
Izayoi chuckled. “He means that as a compliment. Mostly.”
“Entirely,” Toga corrected, taking a sip. “Women who do what needs to be done tend to run this household eventually.”
Inukimi hummed thoughtfully. “He is not wrong.”
Kagome laughed again, relaxing as the room filled with easy warmth until the front door opened.
Sesshomaru entered first, coat removed, posture impeccable as ever. Rin followed close behind him, bundled in a festive sweater and boots, her eyes already wide with curiosity. The moment she spotted Kagome, she froze, her eyes wide and gleaming.
“Oh!” Rin gasped. “Santa’s reindeer!” Rin ran over, staring up at Kagome with open wonder. “You’re really pretty,” she declared solemnly.
Kagome blinked, then smiled warmly, crouching slightly. “Thank you, Rin. You’re very sweet.”
Rin beamed, then tilted her head. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” Kagome said without hesitation.
Rin leaned in, lowering her voice just a little, though not nearly enough as it was more a whisper shout. “Are you a stripper?”
The room went dead silent.
Kagome froze.
Sesshomaru closed his eyes, sighing.
Toga choked on his drink.
“And,” Rin continued thoughtfully, “if you are, what is it? And is it true that you bring happiness to men who give you money?Grandpa says that strippers can dress like elves, reindeer and even presents this time of year!”
Izayoi made a strangled sound. Kagura had to turn away, shoulders shaking. Inukimi’s gaze slid, slowly and sharply to Toga.
“P-pardon?”
Before anyone could recover, the door opened again.
In walked a tall man with long silver hair and unmistakable dog ears, smirking already. Behind him came a man with tan skin, long black hair, and calm blue eyes, followed by another man with short black hair who looked like he’d seen too much nonsense in one lifetime.
The dog eared man took one look at the scene, Sesshomaru rigid with silent despair, Kagome mid freeze, Rin wide eyed and earnest and barked out a laugh. “So,” he drawled, grinning wickedly, “Sesshomaru finally brings a woman home and it’s a stripper? Keh.”
“Inuyasha,” Sesshomaru said flatly, eyes still closed, “leave.”
Kagome blinked rapidly, then laughed, softly at first, then more openly. “I can assure you,” she said, smiling down at Rin, “I am not a stripper.”
Rin frowned. “Oh.”
Inuyasha snorted. “Well that’s disappointing.”
“Inuyasha,” the man with blue eyes said calmly, elbowing him, “that’s not helpful.”
Rin looked back up at Kagome, nodding seriously. “Okay. But if you ever become one, will you tell me first?”
Sesshomaru opened his eyes. “…Rin.”
Kagome laughed again, warm and genuine. “Deal,” she said gently.
Sesshomaru stood perfectly still, posture rigid, expression unreadable, already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. He should never have listened to his father. This was, without question, a strategic miscalculation on his part.
“Allow me,” Sesshomaru said flatly, gesturing with minimal effort, “to introduce my annoying younger brother, an imbecile that I share blood with.”
“Inuyasha,” Inuyasha corrected, smirking.
“And this,” Sesshomaru continued without pause, “is his husband, Koga, even more foolish for having married Inuyasha.”
Koga grinned broadly. “Love you too, big guy.”
Sesshomaru’s gaze shifted to the last man, eyes narrowing slightly. “…And this is their annoying friend whose name I never care to remember.”
The man stepped forward eagerly, completely unbothered. “Miroku,” he said smoothly, bowing with dramatic flair before immediately taking Kagome’s hands in his. “A pleasure and while we are being introduced, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife and bearing my children?”
The room went silent again.
Sesshomaru’s eye twitched.
Kagome blinked once, twice, then smiled politely, carefully extracting her hands from Miroku’s grasp. “I’m fairly certain Sesshomaru wants me to be his wife and bear his children.”
Chaos erupted from all the others..
Laughter filled the room, Toga practically howling, Inuyasha doubling over, Koga wheezing as he slapped the table. Even Izayoi had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing outright. Kagura leaned into Inukimi, shoulders shaking.
Sesshomaru remained perfectly still.
He was not certain whether he was more offended that his brother’s friend had attempted to proposition a woman he had invited into his home… or that Kagome had so casually and accurately stated his long term intentions out loud.
Miroku clutched his chest dramatically. “Rejected in front of family. Truly devastating.”
“She chose well,” Inuyasha snorted. “Even if she is wrong about him.”
Sesshomaru finally spoke, voice calm and edged with something dangerous. “You will refrain from proposing to women in my home.”
Miroku grinned. “Ah, but she already has a claim on her, it seems.”
Kagome glanced up at Sesshomaru, eyes bright with amusement. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Sesshomaru replied after a beat. “…You were factually correct.”
That only caused another round of laughter from his family, save for Rin who had wandered to eat cookies that his parents set out for her.
Sesshomaru sighed internally, staring into the middle distance. This was going to be a very long night.
Sesshomaru had thought, naively, that dinner would be the calmer portion of the evening. He was wrong. If anything, the chaos escalated.
The long dining table was laden with food, elegant place settings doing absolutely nothing to contain the madness unfolding around them. Somewhere between the second course and the third glass of wine, Inuyasha discovered peas were excellent ammunition.
It started innocently enough, one green missile flicked across the table.
Rin blinked, looked down at the pea on her plate, then up at Inuyasha with slow, dawning delight.
Game on.
She pinched a pea between her fingers and lobbed it back with surprising accuracy. It struck Inuyasha squarely on the cheek.
“IBrat!” he barked, grinning like a menace as he retaliated with a full handful.
“INUYASHA,” Sesshomaru snapped, sharp and immediate.
Too late.
Rin shrieked with laughter, ducking as peas rained down while Koga tried and failed to intervene.
“I married into this,” Koga muttered, shielding his plate. “I deserve compensation.”
Across the table, Kagura and Izayoi were engaged in a heated but oddly domestic argument. “The ham needs to be basted every thirty minutes,” Izayoi insisted, fork gesturing emphatically.
“And dry meat is a crime,” Kagura shot back. “You overcook everything.”
“I do not—”
“You absolutely do.”
Sesshomaru tuned them out.
His mother, meanwhile, had cornered just then Koga into a surprisingly intense conversation about overseas investments, supply chains, and long-term sustainability. Koga nodded along, visibly sweating as Inukimi dissected his answers with surgical precision.
Which left Toga.
Toga, unfortunately, had discovered Kagome.
He leaned comfortably close, elbow propped on the table, voice low and amused. “You know,” he said with a grin, “I haven’t seen my son this tense in years. You have a gift.”
Kagome laughed, light and easy. “I think that might just be genetic.”
“Oh no,” Toga replied smoothly. “This is new. Usually it takes a hostile takeover to make him scowl like that.”
Sesshomaru felt it, sharp, immediate, and deeply unwelcome.
He lifted his gaze.
Kagome met his eyes across the table, her smile softening just a fraction, mischief glinting beneath it. She knew exactly what Toga was doing and she knew Sesshomaru knew.
Toga caught the exchange and smirked, clearly delighted. “Ah,” he murmured, “mutual awareness. How promising.”
Sesshomaru’s jaw tightened. He said nothing. Reacting would only encourage them.
Kagome merely laughed again, shifting just enough to put polite distance between herself and Toga, her tone warm but unbothered. She was handling it with grace, deflecting, not indulging.
He appreciated that, more than he cared to admit.
Dessert, somehow, was worse.
Cakes, pastries, and sweets covered the table, but Kagome barely touched hers. Instead, she found herself fully absorbed with Rin, who had abandoned her chair entirely and curled up beside her with a plate of cookies.
“So you go to school every day?” Kagome asked gently, leaning in.
Rin nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh! I like art the best and music! And dancing!”
Kagome’s face lit up. “Really? Those are my favorites too.”
Rin gasped. “All of them?”
“All of them,” Kagome confirmed solemnly. “I used to paint all the time when I was younger. Still do, when I can.”
Rin’s eyes went wide. “You paint?”
“Yes,” Kagome said with a smile. “And I read a lot, too.”
“I like books!” Rin declared. “But Daddy reads really boring ones.”
Sesshomaru stiffened.
Kagome laughed softly. “I bet he does. But maybe I can recommend some fun ones.”
Rin beamed, launching into a detailed explanation of her favorite colors, the music she liked to dance to, and how she wanted to learn ballet and tap because his parents and step parents had spoiled her and gave her the mentality of why choose? They were wealthy and never wanted for anything and Rin being their only granddaughter had given them all the more incentive to do so.
Kagome listened to every word like it mattered, which, to Rin, it did.
Sesshomaru watched from across the room, something unfamiliar settling in his chest.
Kagome didn’t talk at Rin. She talked with her, asked questions, encouraged her to explain. Listened with genuine interest and delight.
Rin adored her.
By the time dessert ended and the chaos began to taper off, Inuyasha subdued, Kagura victorious over the ham debate, Toga finally distracted by Izayoi and Sesshomaru made his move.
“Kagome,” he said quietly, coming to her side.
She looked up at him, her smile easy and unguarded. “Yes?”
“May I speak with you?” His voice lowered, careful. “Privately.”
Her smile softened, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Of course.”
Sesshomaru guided her from the dining room, his hand hovering near her back without quite touching, as though instinct urged him to protect her space as much as occupy it. The noise faded with each step down the hallway, laughter, clinking glasses, Rin’s bright voice until only the low crackle of firelight greeted them in the sitting room.
Warmth wrapped around them. The world felt smaller and quieter far from his family.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Sesshomaru turned to face her, his expression composed but his eyes unusually open. “You were… very good with Rin,” he said at last, his tone softer than she had heard it all evening.
Kagome blinked, faintly surprised. “Oh.” She smiled, almost shy. “I just love kids. She’s wonderful.”
“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. Then, after a brief pause, “…She likes you.”
Kagome’s smile warmed, something tender settling in her gaze. “I like her too.”
“She rarely opens up that easily,” Sesshomaru continued. “You have made an impression.”
Kagome met his eyes, sincerity written plainly on her face. “That means a lot to me.” Then, after a beat, her lips curved with playful resolve. She tilted her head slightly. “Though,” she added gently, “I can’t help but notice that you’ve spent the entire night vetting me for your family.”
Sesshomaru did not deny it.
She stepped a little closer, her tone light but her eyes intent. “Who’s to say I want you as my husband? Or the father of my children?”
For the first time that night, Sesshomaru inclined his head, not in defense, but acknowledgment. “You make a valid point,” he said calmly. “Then tell me your requirements.” His gaze never left hers. “Your negotiable terms and your non-negotiables.”
Kagome inhaled softly, surprised by how seriously he took her words and how safe that seriousness made her feel. But she shouldn’t be surprised, not with how much she has grown fond to his habits the last week.
“My non-negotiable,” she said quietly, honestly, “is that our marriage would be monogamous.” She met his gaze without flinching. “I am selfish in that regard. I refuse to share you with another.”
Something unreadable passed through Sesshomaru’s eyes then his lips twitched, just slightly. “That aligns with my own requirement,” he said. “So it will be done.”
The certainty in his voice sent a small shiver through her.
She smiled, emboldened. “I want children, at least three, no less.” Her expression softened, hopeful but unashamed. “I would be willing to have more.”
Sesshomaru regarded her with that same thoughtful intensity—not judgment, not hesitation, but something deeper, more deliberate. As if he were committing each word she spoke to memory.
“A large family,” he murmured. “A home filled with warmth, learning, and structure.” His golden gaze softened, instinct sharpening into something protective and resolute. “I would ensure they are provided for. In every sense of the word.”
Kagome exhaled quietly, heart steady but full. “I want to continue owning my bookstore,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “I worked hard for it, and it’s a part of who I am. But once we have children…” She paused, imagining it. “I would like to stay home with them. Raise them. Be there every day until they’re old enough to go to school on their own.”
Sesshomaru did not interrupt. He listened.
“Done,” he said simply.
The certainty in his response startled her more than any grand speech might have. Kagome searched his face, but there was no doubt there, only acceptance, even approval.
She smiled, encouraged. “There’s more.”
“I assumed as much.”
She laughed softly. “You’re a CEO. That means long hours, travel, responsibilities that don’t end at five o’clock.” Her gaze held his. “But I require that you come home every night, unless you’re away on a business trip. No sleeping at the office. No choosing work over us.”
Sesshomaru’s brow furrowed slightly, not in resistance, but consideration. “I will adjust my schedule,” he said after a brief pause. “My presence at home will be prioritized.”
Kagome’s chest warmed at the word prioritized.
“And,” she continued, emboldened now, “I want us to take a family vacation once a year. The entire family. Yours and mine. No excuses.” Her smile turned playful but earnest. “And I want us to eat our meals together whenever possible, all sitting down and talking. No phones at the table.”
For a long moment, Sesshomaru was silent. Then he stepped closer, his voice lower, steadier. “You are describing a life of intention and consistency.” His gaze softened further. “That is not a burden to me.”
He inclined his head, a subtle but solemn gesture. “Agreed. All of it.”
Kagome blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “That’s it? No counteroffers?”
“One does not negotiate away what strengthens a family,” he said. “And you have thought deeply about this.” His eyes searched hers. “It is… admirable.”
Heat crept into her cheeks.
Sesshomaru hesitated, then reached out, his hand hovering before gently taking hers, warm and steady. “You ask for presence, honesty, and unity,” he said quietly. “Those are not unreasonable demands.” His thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles, almost unconsciously. “They are the foundation of a life worth building.”
Kagome’s smile softened, her fingers tightening just slightly around his. Then, slowly, that smile widened, turning playful and mischievous. He rather found that look on her to be enticing. .
“There is much more,” she said, eyes bright with quiet challenge.
Sesshomaru regarded her steadily. “Just consent to be my wife,” he replied, voice smooth and low, “and it shall all be yours.”
She laughed, low and warm, and leaned in just enough to make the space between them feel charged. “Ah,” she said lightly, “but that would be far too easy.”
His brow lifted a fraction.
“We aren’t to sleep together until our wedding night,” she continued, entirely unbothered by the way his attention sharpened. “I require proper courting and an engagement that feels intentional.” Her gaze lingered on his mouth before returning to his eyes. “A very intimate honeymoon.”
Sesshomaru’s breath slowed, not from surprise, but from the sheer confidence with which she spoke. Each word landed like a deliberate step closer. “What of affection like kissing?”
“Kissing is very much allowed and appreciated and,” she added, her lips curving mischievously, “you must indulge my desire for books excessively.”
For a moment, he said nothing. Then a slow, unmistakable smile touched his lips. “You ask for restraint,” he said quietly, voice lower now, richer. “And yet you make it… difficult.”
Her laugh was soft, pleased. “I consider that a compliment of the highest kind from you.”
His grip on her hand tightened just enough to be felt, his thumb brushing the back of her knuckles as if memorizing the shape of her. “A proper courtship,” he murmured. “Time, intention, and anticipation.”
His golden eyes darkened, not with hunger unchecked, but with something far more dangerous and that was fixation. “You are brilliant,” he said simply. “And you wield that brilliance with remarkable precision.”
Kagome tilted her head, delighted. “So… acceptable terms?”
“More than acceptable,” he replied. “They are compelling.”
He stepped closer, just within her space, his presence warm and steady, not touching her further, by choice and discipline. “I will court you,” he said. “Thoughtfully and thoroughly.” A pause, just long enough to make her pulse jump. “And when the time comes, the waiting will have been… worth it.”
Her breath caught, eyes shining.
“As for books,” he added, a faint smirk finally breaking through his composure, “you may consider your indulgence guaranteed.”
Kagome smiled, slow, radiant, and unmistakably victorious. The kind of smile that told him she knew exactly what effect she was having and enjoyed every second of it.
“I, too, have only two requirements,” he continued.
Her brow lifted, intrigued. “Oh? And what are they?”
“Every night before bed,” he said calmly, as though discussing a business arrangement, “you will allow me to read to you my boring books.”
She hummed thoughtfully, eyes dancing. “Reading to me every night?” Her voice dipped teasingly. “Trying to seduce me already?”
His smirk deepened, gaze lowering just slightly as he leaned closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him without him touching her. “Perhaps.”
She laughed softly, delighted. “Deal.”
His eyes glinted. “My other requirement is seasonal.”
Her curiosity sharpened. “Seasonal how?”
“During the winter,” he said, voice lowering, rich and unhurried, “you will wear the reindeer costume.”
She blinked once. “…As in…?”
Sesshomaru’s eyelids lowered, half lidded now, golden eyes glowing with unmistakable intent. The air between them shifted to something, heated and deliberate. “Yes,” he said simply.
Kagome stared at him for a heartbeat… then laughed, a low, breathy sound that curled pleasantly in his chest. “You know,” she said, stepping just a fraction closer, “that is very much doable.”
Something in his expression sharpened, satisfaction, desire, and confidence blooming openly now. His instincts hummed, protective and possessive, but tempered by patience. He did not touch her, did not rush her.
Yet.
“Excellent,” he murmured.
When they returned to the main living area, Sesshomaru immediately knew, without a single word being spoken, that something had gone terribly wrong.
Rin was standing in the middle of the room, beaming, absolutely covered in white icing from head to toe. There was a streak across her cheek, a dollop in her hair, and what looked suspiciously like a frosting handprint on the front of her dress.
She was not alone.
Inuyasha had icing smeared across his jaw and nose like war paint, Kagura had a streak across her collarbone and one eyebrow, and Izayoi was laughing far too hard for someone with frosting splattered down the front of her sweater.
At the bar, completely untouched, stood Toga with a drink in hand, watching the scene like a proud instigator. Inukimi stood beside him, arms crossed, expression long suffering, while Koga leaned against the counter, grinning like he’d just witnessed his favorite sporting event.
Sesshomaru stopped dead.
Kagome pressed a hand to her mouth, trying and failing not to laugh.
Rin spotted them immediately. “Dad!” she chirped, lifting her arms, leaving little icing fingerprints in the air. “We played snowball fight! But with dessert!”
Sesshomaru closed his eyes. Just for a moment.
Inuyasha turned, squinting at them. “Oh, hey, you’re back.” He looked Sesshomaru up and down, then smirked. “So did you two fuck already?”
The crack echoed through the room.
Izayoi’s hand connected sharply with the back of Inuyasha’s head. “Do not use such foul language in front of Rin!”
“Ow! What?!” Inuyasha yelped, rubbing his head. “It was just a question!”
Rin tilted her head thoughtfully. “What does fuck mean?”
Sesshomaru opened his eyes again, jaw tight. “You will answer that question incorrectly or not at all.”
Kagome cleared her throat quickly, crouching in front of Rin with a gentle smile. “It’s… a grown up word that people shouldn’t say around kids.”
“Oh,” Rin said, satisfied. Then she grinned again. “Dad, Auntie Kagura let me throw frosting at Uncle Inuyasha!”
Kagura shrugged unapologetically. “He deserved it.”
“I always do apparently,” Inuyasha muttered.
Toga lifted his glass. “For the record, I tried to stop it.”
Inukimi shot him a flat look. “You handed Rin the spoon.”
“It was a bonding exercise.”
Sesshomaru exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. “I left for five minutes.”
Kagome glanced up at him, eyes bright with amusement. “Your family is very lively.”
“That is one word for it,” he replied dryly.
Rin toddled over and hugged Kagome’s leg, leaving a frosting smear on her dress. “I like you. You’re pretty.”
Kagome melted instantly. “Thank you, sweetheart. I like you too.”
Inukimi surveyed the scene, icing smeared across counters, chairs, sleeves, and at least one unfortunate wall with a slow, unimpressed blink. “You have made a mess of my kitchen,” she said coolly. Then she turned her gaze to Toga. “You will be the one to clean it all up.”
Toga choked on his drink. “Why me?”
“Because,” Inukimi replied serenely, “you watched it happen.”
“I supervised.”
“You instigated.”
Kagome, trying valiantly to keep a straight face, reached for a spoon that had been abandoned on the table. She dipped it into the bowl of icing, light, fluffy, innocent and promptly splattered it directly across Sesshomaru’s face.
Time stopped, and silence fell.
Sesshomaru blinked once slowly, as white icing slid down his cheekbone.
Kagome gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide her smiling. “Oh my…”
Inuyasha burst out laughing. “SHE ICED HIM!”
That was all it took for chaos to erupt.
Kagura grabbed a handful of icing and flung it at Toga. Izayoi retaliated immediately. Koga joined in with the enthusiasm of someone who had been waiting for this moment his entire life. Inukimi sighed… and then, with frightening precision, flicked icing directly into Toga’s hair.
“TRAITOR,” Toga cried.
Rin squealed with delight, chasing Miroku, who had just returned from the bathroom around the room with a spoon raised like a weapon. “COME BACK, ICING MAN!”
“I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE THIS,” Miroku yelled, fleeing.
Amidst the madness, Kagome stood frozen, staring up at Sesshomaru in amused horror. “I really didn’t mean t—”
He stepped forward.
Then, instead of reprimanding her or wiping his face, Sesshomaru wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
She giggled, breathless, hands instinctively resting against his chest. “You’re taking this very well.”
His voice dropped, calm and steady despite the frosting dripping down his jaw. “Is it too presumptuous,” he asked quietly, “to ask for a kiss?”
Her eyes sparkled. She leaned in just enough to tease. “If you don’t kiss me,” she hummed, “I might have to make it a requirement that you kiss me at least ten times a day and if you fail to meet that requirement then have your punishment be that you stay the nig—”
He didn’t let her finish.
Sesshomaru kissed her, warm, confident, and utterly unapologetic blocking out the chaos, the laughter, the flying icing. Just her. Just this moment.
Somewhere behind them, Rin cheered.
Inuyasha gagged loudly.
And Toga raised his glass. “Now that,” he declared proudly, “is how you court.”