As Sesshoumaru stepped soundlessly across the threshold, Kagome scrambled up from the floor. She never thought she’d be relieved at the sight of her brother-in-law standing here in her house once again, but amidst the turbulence of emotions warring through her, there was an undeniable tendril of relief present there. It was a feeling that evaporated quickly, however, as Kohaku rose grimly to his feet as well.

Cool and dispassionate, Sesshoumaru’s golden eyes took in the scene before him: his panting, disheveled sister-in-law, the sullen taijiya with his slashed-open cheek, and perhaps most damning of all, the rumpled bedding edged with a fine lace of blood. Dread pooled in Kagome’s veins. She knew how this looked, and it wasn’t good. It was exactly the sort of scene she’d been hoping to avoid.

At the very least, Sesshoumaru might take Kohaku’s actions as a personal offense. Shadowed and grave, the taijiya’s features seemed to reflect this concern. Kagome didn’t doubt Kohaku had a weapon on him somewhere, but if Sesshoumaru attacked at such close range, it wouldn’t be anything close to a fair fight. The miko’s expression hardened as she shifted her stance, ready to defend Kohaku verbally or otherwise, before Sesshoumaru’s gaze settled upon her own.

“Kohaku,” the demon lord said, not turning to address the taijiya in the slightest. “Leave us.”

Eyes lowered, Kohaku left. There was a rustling of blankets in the corner, as Ikiryou stirred from his hunkered position and slipped out after the taijiya through a gap in the swaying door curtain. At this, Sesshoumaru’s gaze slid from Kagome’s, though whether he was looking toward the dog’s retreating figure or beyond it, in the direction of the temple and the army encampment, was difficult to say.

“Your pack has grown,” he remarked with a tilt of the head.

Kagome’s brow scrunched. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

Sesshoumaru turned toward her. Eerily glowing and freshly imposing as he was after these long weeks of absence, as he approached the platform where she stood, Kagome’s wariness returned two-fold. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, she thought with a grimace, wishing more than anything that she wasn’t alone with him now.

Beneath the tatami, the creaky boards remained unnervingly silent as he ascended the step to stand before her. Kagome stiffened at the force of his constrained aura—the fringes of which chafed her nearly as much as the clawtip that reached out to graze her lower lip.

“Does it amuse you,” he said lowly, pressing into her at the seam, “to torment hot-blooded young men?”

Kagome jerked her chin aside. “…I shouldn’t have asked.” Circling around him, she stepped down from the platform and began violently stoking the dying coals of the hearth. “Gods know there’s nothing but ice in your veins, Onii-san.”

“Are we playing at ‘siblings’ still?” Turning, Kagome clutched the poker defensively to her as he materialized an inch away from her flinching form. The velvety tips of his fur tickled at the bare skin of her ankle and wrist. “Then tell me, little sister,” he purred, hooking his claws into the neck of her haori, “why are you still clothed?”

Kagome glared, her hands tightening around the iron rod in her grasp. “Are you really that dense, Sesshoumaru?” Curtly, she prised him off. “Today’s obviously not a good one for me. Come back tomorrow.”

“Because you’re bleeding?” The miko gaped at him, her face flooding scarlet. “I don’t mind it.”

Somewhere in Kagome’s brain, a capillary threatened to burst.

“I…no—I mean, that’s none of your business!” It was all she could do not to skewer him with the firepoker’s pointier end. “Just the thought of being intimate with you makes my stomach twist up in knots…”

“We had an agreement,” Sesshoumaru stonily said.

Bracing the poker against the floor, Kagome crossed her arms above it. “And I’m asking you kindly to leave.”

“Think carefully,” he told her, the chill in his voice stealing all warmth from the room, “of what you are asking.”

Kagome looked away from him, biting her lip in despair. He was pressing the issue, just like she’d known he would. But how could she…

How could she submit to him, when the very prospect filled her with defiant fury? How could she bear to be with him, when even to look at him wounded her so?

It was this naked hurt that flashed through her eyes as she locked gazes with him, and subtly, he frowned.

Then, once more, the curtain shivered aside, as Kanako crept haltingly into the room.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

LOL forgot to close comments after all of that! Thank you guys for the lovely comments so far though ~ 💕