The Pact by Chiaztolite

The Pact

Their meeting in the modern era was as unexpected as it had been the first time.

Firstly, it did not happen inside the grave of a legendary yōkai lord, fighting over some legendary sword with the power to destroy a hundred demons. Instead, it took place inside the lobby of one of the tallest skyscrapers in Tokyo. A beast of a different kind. Their eyes had met across the expansive marble floor filled with a throng of salarymen and women too busy to mind two people stopping each other in their tracks.

Time froze when she spotted him: a flash of silver in a sea of black.

The world stood still for him when he saw her: a ray of sun in the drab grey of late autumn.

He was there for a meeting.

She was there for a job.

When she waved her hand, uncertain if he even remembered her, he waved back, uncertain if she still wanted to know him at all.

Their unexpected encounter led to coffee. And coffee led to lunch. And lunch led to several other planned encounters, after which he invited her to stay with him at a cabin in the woods he had rented as a refuge from the concrete jungle that was Tokyo. There, they spent three days together, talking of nothing but the past and those they had loved and lost.

The power of the Shikon jewel had given her an unnaturally long lifespan, and she had spent decades of her life watching everyone she knew and loved withered and pass away while she remained as youthful as she had always been. That day, she confided to him her deepest fear: even though she tried to maintain contact with those left behind, she knew they were slipping through her fingers.

First, it was her grandfather. Then, her mother, her brother, her brother’s wife, and their children. Then, their children’s children.

Blessed with a long life to begin with, he had wandered the world, living wherever he liked. He still returned to Tokyo from time to time to take care of business and visit his mother, though he preferred to stay away. There were too many memories in the lands of the rising sun, and he chose to live the rest of his days in a place where no one knew who he was — not even his name, unburdened by yōkai politics and the weight of the title his father left him.

On their last night together before he had to fly back home, she wept, because she was about to lose the only connection to that part of her past she could never forget.

Though he shed no tears, the feeling was mutual.

And so, they made a pact: they would see each other and spend three days together in the same cabin every year.

Years passed. Decades. And still, they met each other at the cabin year after year.

Though they were mostly apart, they had always been there for each other — in body or spirit.

His mother never gave up on her hope that one day, he would decide to settle down with a mate of his own. Kagome helped him review the qualifications of all the female yōkai his mother made him consider as a potential mate. No one ever came close to his exacting standards, however, and the daiyōkai remained alone.

He listened to all her romantic dilemmas when she started falling for an ordinary man, keeping his comments to a minimum, sensing she only needed a pair of ears to listen to her troubles.

The following year, he watched from afar as she tied the knot to that same man.  

She was the only person he turned to when his mother passed away, severing the only connection he had to his lineage, his bloodline. Her company was the only one he sought when he scattered his mother’s ashes in a faraway lake, declining all offers from other yōkai lords and ladies of his acquaintances.

He was the one who held her tight and comforted her after her husband divorced her to marry another woman, unable to cope with the strangeness of her situation. The presence of yōkai in the world was one thing, but a human woman who simply did not age was another thing entirely.

For decades, they were each other’s support and pillars of strength.

This year, they were to meet at the cabin again.


Somewhere in a remote forest near Togakushi, Nagano, Japan

Late Autumn

Sesshōmaru arrived first, which he preferred.

Sometimes, heavy snowfalls came early in the year, and it would be impossible for Kagome’s tiny car to make it all the way up the drive without stalling. Thus, he made sure to always arrive before she did so he could shovel the accumulated snow and clear the path for her arrival.

As soon as he disembarked from his car, he breathed in the brisk autumn air filled with the earthy scents of moist earth and pine needles. Thankfully, there was no snow, only heaps of fallen crimson leaves from the massive maple tree standing in front of the cabin. A silent, stalwart witness of their yearly pilgrimage to this secluded place.

Because they ended up renting the same property every time, he had decided to purchase it some years ago, and hired caretakers to keep the place in tip-top shape for their annual visits. It was a two-story wooden cabin, built soundly from Japanese cypress timber, with three bedrooms upstairs and a spacious living area on the main floor, equipped with a large fireplace and a modest kitchen tucked in the corner.

Ancient forest — densely filled with creeping pine trees, Mongolian oak, white birch, and Japanese beech — surrounded the cabin on all sides, providing them with the much-needed privacy. The previous owner had cleared a long winding path from the main road to the porch and the entrance, flanking the driveway with towering pines. The interior was kept in meticulous condition. As he checked the contents of the kitchen cabinets, he saw there were still non-perishable supplies from last year, though Kagome would undoubtedly bring more with her. Every year, the former miko seemed to forget they were staying only for three days, not the three weeks the amount of her shopping indicated.

He lit the fire inside the hearth so the cabin would be warm and cozy for her arrival, then did his usual round to inspect the perimeter of the cabin, checking to make sure the barrier he had erected around it remained sound. He also checked up on their firewood stock, satisfied to see the rack on the side of the cabin had been freshly filled with properly-cured pieces.

When his keen hearing heard the hum of her car’s engine moving along the main road, he went back inside to make sure everything was in pristine condition, ready to receive her. Moments later, as he put a kettle to boil, he heard the car door slamming shut and her steps bouncing up the steps to the porch in that familiar cadence.

“I swear to God, if I came across another driver trying to overtake me on a one-lane road…” She ranted as soon as she pushed the door into the cabin open with her shoulders, both arms carrying brown paper bags filled with groceries that would surely last them beyond their stay. Most of the contents would be for her, since he did not eat much to begin with, and he could never touch some of the things she loved to eat anyway.

Each year, it was always like this. She stormed back into his life as though they had never been apart. Immediately, she would begin to speak as though they were already in mid-conversation.

Her forest green knitted hat had fallen over her eyes. The glossy raven locks streamed down her back in delightfully unruly waves, framing a heart-shaped face that had become as familiar to him as his own. As he reached out to carefully lift the hat and uncover her pair of blue eyes, she grinned up at him in greeting.

“Hello again, Sesshōmaru,” she said, voice soft.

Then, like usual, she raised herself on her toes to give him a cursory peck on the cheek. Her familiar scent teased his nose: clean skin and fresh laundry, and something sweet he could not name. A fragrance that was inherently her own.

When they looked at each other again, not for the first time, he wondered what she would do if he took her chin and kissed her.

But instead, he said: “Hello again, Kagome.”

She smiled. He helped her with her shopping bags and her luggage. While tea was steeping inside the pot, they spent some time organizing themselves. The conversations were light and generic, mostly revolving around their travels to the cabin and the weather, and tidbits about some interesting activities they had done during their time apart.

The heavier topics usually came later.

After tea was poured and enjoyed, he asked: “What would you like to do first?”

She tilted her head to the side and thought. “Let’s work up an appetite.”

So, they went hunting.

The brisk chill of autumn air greeted them as they stepped outside. These woods were home to some ancient trees. They had grown to reach such heights, they eclipsed the sky. Their thick trunks were green and slippery with moss. Sesshōmaru’s and Kagome’s boots made soft crunching noises as they tread the off-beaten trails further into the woods, far enough that he could no longer hear the din of traffic from the nearest road.

As species equality became more prevalent across the globe, some countries began to abolish the law for yōkai to wear glamour. More and more followed. Sesshōmaru rarely went out. But he applied limited glamour on those rare occasions that he did, more for his comfort than for anyone else's. This world was becoming more synthetic, increasingly congested, more of an assault on his senses. He would not survive an hour outside of his home without some form of glamour.

This remote wilderness was about the only place where he felt he could fully reveal himself. Be himself. Unleash his power.

As he caught sight of her from the corner of his eye, he knew she felt the same. A rosy glow surrounded her body. Her reiki swished through her being as she flitted through the trees, her trim figure as lithe and agile as she had been in her teenage years, even though she must be close to a century old, if not more, by this point.

Kagome caught him staring, and she grinned, happiness radiating from every pore.

He smirked in return.

A couple of hours later, they each caught a stag, but they released both. Since they were staying only for three days, butchering two stags — or even one — would be excessive. They were both long past those days when they hunted and gathered, but the exercise was thrilling and kept their instincts sharp.

When they returned to the cabin, the sun had burnt out on the western horizon. Only the slightest hint of orange was seen between the trees. Kagome arranged some wood pieces on the bottom of the fire pit and set them ablaze while he went back inside to fetch the steaks he had picked up from a butcher on the way to the cabin.

Outside, they worked in tandem to prepare their dinner. No words were necessary; they did their own tasks and had everything come together beautifully in the end with startling efficiency.

When she first cooked meat for him, she poured melted butter and soy sauce all over it, and he looked like he was going to either vomit or faint. The one he prepared for her was no better. It was so bloody all she could taste was metal.

Now, he knew she preferred her beef seared three minutes longer on each side and rested for at least five minutes. And she knew he liked his done very rare with only a sprinkling of expensive sea salt from this particular region in Japan. Absolutely nothing else. If she dared to add another seasoning, he simply refused to eat it.

He also knew to set aside a shelf in the pantry for the assortments of snacks she would undoubtedly bring with her. It never ceased to amaze him how she required multiple types of chocolates to last her through their three-day stay: milk, dark, white, and a few strange varieties he never understood why they were invented. Melon flavoured chocolates? Matcha? Strawberry?

What was wrong with eating fresh melon and strawberries, or drinking green tea? Why did they have to be consumed in a chocolate form? The first time he had watched her munching on those things, he had demanded an explanation. She tried to explain, but certain modern world inventions were beyond his comprehension and eventually, she gave up trying.

But, for the most part, they knew each other better than most married couples knew their spouses.

… … … … … … …

After their campfire dinner, they sat on a pair of wooden lounge chairs in front of the fire pit, passing a flask of saké back and forth.

It was chilly, so Sesshōmaru lent Kagome a portion of his mokomoko for her to wrap around herself to keep warm. His yōkai blood ran hot, and thus his shirt and a knitted sweater on top were enough for him to ward off the chill. As he leaned back in his seat, he stared at a sliver of the moon he could see between the branches of the trees above. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. A fox and two cubs tread lightly on the fallen leaves. But, other than those harmless creatures, it was a peaceful night.

“I’ve decided to let Sōta’s grandkids go," Kagome said quietly, breaking the silence.

Sesshōmaru turned his head to look at her. Last year, she talked about this too. She tried to keep in touch with them and be a part of their lives. But eventually, she got the sinking feeling that her presence had become a peculiarity too uncomfortable to bear.

“I have to let them live their lives without the burden of a relic from the past,” she muttered. “It is what it is.” She shrugged. In the stiff set of her shoulders, he could see how hard she tried to make it seem as though she was not bothered.

But— she was bothered. More than that, she was hurt. There was pain in those words and in the tone of her voice, which she tried desperately to hide.

Now, she would be as alone as he had always been. However, he was never much for company, while she was naturally a social creature.

Sesshōmaru himself had tried to do as she had done. He had protected Rin’s and Kohaku’s offspring and watched over their children, and grandchildren. As much as he reminded himself of the fragility of human lives, as hard as he tried to not let them into his heart, he grieved their passing as though they were children from his own body. In the end, he had to be content with watching them from afar. Rin’s descendants multiplied rapidly and spread into the five continents. In the end, he made peace with the fact he was no longer in anyone's life, but it did not stop him from searching for the reminiscence of her face in each and every person he encountered who looked even remotely Asian.

“I am sorry,” he said gently. “I know how much your family means to you.”

And she was about to lose the only connection she had with them.

“Sesshōmaru. At this point, I am a ghoul,” Kagome whispered. “An apparition. Who would want… to be burdened with such… an abomination?”

He looked up at her sharply.

“Kagome. Last time, you promised you would no longer refer to yourself as such," he reminded her in a quiet voice.

She stared back at him with a pair of haunted eyes. He despised this look on her, the fact that she had been wearing this expression on her face more frequently as of late.

“Hattori always said he wasn’t sure if he wanted children,” she said, her voice breaking. “It wasn’t until recently that I realized: he wasn’t sure if he wanted children… with me. A disgusting, unnatural existence.”

The mention of her ex-husband made poison bubble at the tip of his claws.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay him a visit?” Sesshōmaru asked, trying his best to keep his voice light. Humorous, even though he meant every word. And more. “It has been a while, but I am certain I still know how to summon my acid whip.”

It was a terrible joke, but Kagome was generous with her mirth. She had always been. She laughed nevertheless, even as she brushed tears away from her eyes.

The ability to make someone laugh had never been a skill he wished he possessed. Back then, he would have abhorred himself for even wishing for such a gift. He would have been disgusted with this fuzz that grew all over his insides. But with her, he found himself constantly trying to put a smile back on that face. On many occasions, he lay awake all night trying to devise ways, conjure clever proses in his head to make her happy again.

If another male made her cry, he wanted to be the one to make her laugh.

“He was always jealous of you,” Kagome confessed. “Even though he never met you, he knew how much you mean to me.”

Good, Sesshōmaru thought with a tremendous amount of satisfaction. He was glad to know the odious earthworm had been jealous. If that ninny of an ex-husband had wanted Kagome to confide in him more, to rely on him more, he should have strived to be a better male and partner. But he chose to avoid the difficult, honourable path and instead looked for a weaker woman behind Kagome’s back.

When she laughed next, it was entirely without mirth.

“He always suspected we were having an affair,” she told him, sniffling. “He believed our yearly trip to catch up was just a cover to have a tryst in the woods. Even though I swore many times that nothing unseemly ever happened between us, that we never started anything that was beyond friendship.”

Beyond friendship.

He looked at her. With all the laughter they shared and the tears that they wiped away throughout the years, he often wondered why they could not have more. Sometimes, when she gazed at him with smiling eyes, he thought she might want the same. Or could be persuaded to want the same.

But, neither of them ever tried.

All these years, had they conditioned themselves to believe three days of happiness out of a year was all they could hope for? All that they deserved? Yet, he must admit he had known the truth for a while.

The only thing stopping them from having more is themselves.

Tonight, he stared at the woman sitting less than an arm-length away, he voiced the question he had asked himself many times before.

“Why… didn’t we?”

His voice was so soft, it was almost lost beneath the crackling of the fire. But, judging from the silence that reigned after, and the way she stared at him with widening eyes, he knew she had heard, nonetheless.

This time, he did not hesitate. He did not stop to wonder. As she stared at him mutely, he leaned over the arm of his chair, took her chin, and kissed her.

The taste of the saké was sweeter when drunk from her lips. It lingered on her tongue as he coaxed her mouth to part so he could deepen their first kiss. Silently, wordlessly, with every pull and every tug, he pleaded: Take a chance on me.

Take a chance on… us.

When he released her, he saw her lips were pink and swollen from his kiss. Her cheeks reddened. The scent of her tears hit him in the nose. His fur pelt slid off her shoulders. She rose to her feet so fast that the flask fell onto the ground, sloshing rice wine all over the fallen leaves. Her trembling fingers touched her lips. Firelight danced in the glassy brightness of her eyes.

Wordlessly, she ran back into the cabin. The sound of the door slamming was the nail that sealed the coffin of his heart shut.

… … … … … … …

Inside the cabin, Kagome paced. She could barely stay still long enough to take a deep breath. Heart racing, her cheeks were hot as though they had been seared with an iron brand.

And the lips… Oh, the lips he kissed still tingled.

And it made her body burn

Not long after, Sesshōmaru entered. His large frame filled the doorway as he stood there, hesitating before he closed the door behind him. The cabin that had always felt so spacious and comfortable suddenly felt suffocating. They looked at each other across the expanse of the space between the entrance and the kitchen. Silence filled the yawning void between them. The hoots of the night owls and the crackling of the wood fire in the hearth were the only sounds she could hear above the loud beating of her own heart.

The silence, the tension, it was all unbearable.

Finally, after the stillness that felt like it would stretch to eternity, he moved. He adopted a slow pace as though he feared he would scare her away, coming into the kitchen to place the saké bottle on the counter with a soft plunk.

Kagome stared at him wordlessly, pressing her back against the door to the fridge, relishing the chill of the metal on the heated skin beneath her sweater. And, under her watchful eyes, Sesshōmaru shifted his weight from one foot to the other. They had known each other for a long time, yet she had never seen the daiyōkai looking so uncertain, outside his comfort zone.

“Sitting out there on my own,” he began to speak, his voice low and husky. “I realized I have two choices: I could assume you ran away because my kiss was distasteful to you. I could pack my bags, leave, and never see you again. Or… I could… try again.”

Her heart leapt at those two words. Try again. It did not take her long to realize what moved her heart was joy. Pure, unadulterated happiness. His eyes reflected the glow from the fire as he stared at her, making their golden shade a burnished amber.

“This is too important to me… to not try harder,” he continued. “You are too important to me. So, tell me, Kagome. Was it distaste you felt?”

How could he think it was distaste? It was the furthest from it. The kiss was everything. It was that elusive, unnamed thing she had been searching for all her life. Yearning, always yearning.

“No,” she whispered, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. “Not at all distaste. Sesshōmaru. It was… the opposite.”

His eyebrow arched with keen interest.

“I was… confused. And overwhelmed. It’s like… winning a lottery. Like… a dream come true. But, at that moment, I didn't quite know how to deal with the rush of emotions.”

His gaze softened and he nodded, understanding her just as he always had.

“All these years… have you felt like this?” Kagome asked, still dazed with disbelief. “All these years… have we truly harboured the same feelings for each other?”

Every morning, she woke up in her lonely bed only to look to her left, wishing he was there. Hoping it was his face she first saw when she opened her eyes. How many nights had she lain in bed and whispered it into the darkness: I wish…

I wish.

How many times throughout the year did she count the days, the hours, the minutes before she saw him again? The yearning to be reunited with him was so strong that earlier, on her way here, she had to stop and park the car a few kilometres before she reached the cabin just so she could calm herself down.

“I have loved you for years.” His simple, straightforward confession spilled the tears from her eyes onto her cheeks. She blinked only to keep him in her line of vision, and more tears fell.

“But… all those female yōkai your mother set you up with—“

He took a few steps towards her and lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug.

"My mother set them up, but I stopped meeting them after we met in Tokyo," he said.


“Kagome,” he stopped her gently, a finger to her chin. “There hasn’t been anyone else after I met you.”

“All this time…” She wet her lips as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I thought…”

“I know.” Sesshōmaru dried her tears one by one with his knuckle. “I know. I thought too.”

“Why didn’t you… swoop in after Hattori left me?”

“I saw how heartbroken you were,” he said grimly. “I did not want to be — how do they say it? Scummy. I did not want to, as you put it, swoop in and take advantage while you were feeling vulnerable.”

“And most importantly—“ He sighed and raked five clawed fingers through his silver hair. “I didn’t want to be the rebound. I want to be the real thing.”

She gaped in amazement.

“Sesshōmaru. You would have been the real thing. How could you not be?”

Right then, she knew she was right. He had been the only real thing in her life. Their visits to the cabin kept her going year after year. That chance to see him again.

He was her once-a-year battery. She was recharged only by being with him, renewed and made ready to face another year. She kept herself alive only long enough for her to reach the cabin.

To reach him.

He had been her friend for so long, and now that they were at the cusp of an enormous change, she suddenly felt shy. She felt so viscerally aware of him. He was standing close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body. Gingerly, she lifted her hand and pressed a palm onto his chest, touching him intimately for the first time. His cable-knit sweater felt soft under her touch, but his body was strong beneath the luxurious yarns, unyielding.

“What if—“ She swallowed, unable to finish.

But he knew her question even before she completed it.

What if this doesn’t work?

… … … … …

He understood her fear, for he felt the same inside the deepest parts of his chest. The connection they had was so rare, so precious. It had endured the test of time and distance over and over. They were each other’s escape, each other’s anchor in the sea of loneliness. The possibility of losing it gripped him with a kind of fear he had never known before.

But, as he gazed upon her lovely, upturned face, he could not help but think: They could have so much more.

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb feeling the softness of her skin.

“Kagome,” he said. “I can't promise things won't ever be difficult. I can't promise we will never quarrel or get into silly arguments. But I can promise you this: I will never stop fighting for the honour of being yours.”

This time, she initiated their kiss, her hands reaching up to cup his face and pull him down to meet hers. There was no hesitation in her lips as they pressed against his, and he responded in kind. The sweet, alluring scent of her passion and want reached him as his own desires sang in his blood. 

“What about the bed?” He asked between kisses when she slipped her hand underneath his shirt, as though she could not wait to touch his bare skin.

There were three bedrooms upstairs, each furnished with a plush, cozy bed that would surely make any strenuous activity much more comfortable. But, even as he asked the question, he began to undress her with fumbling fingers. She did nothing to advocate patience. If anything, with her hands just as busy taking the clothes off him, she made it worse. In the end, he was so impatient, he sliced away her pants and tore her underwear off.

He fingered her almost immediately, gratified — nearly growling when he found her warm and wet.

“Too far away,” she murmured against his throat. Kissing, nibbling, panting when one long finger rubbed against her swollen nub.

“I have yōkai speed.” He was holding back helpless laughter, though he was also groaning, because her hands had now found what they were looking for: him. Hot and hard and ready.

“Still too far away,” she insisted.

He sank onto the rug on the floor, on his knees in front of her. His hands held her hips still as he worshipped her with his mouth. She whimpered with urgency when his tongue swirled over the swollen bud, when he suckled her.

“Sesshōmaru,” she whimpered against the back of her hand. The other hand made its way to sink in the silken tresses of his hair. “No more. Please—”

He wanted to savour their first joining, but their combined needs refused to wait. He laid her down on the rug beneath him, and she parted her thighs readily, making room for him to settle in. He could not stop a guttural groan from his throat at the feel of their bodies touching, gliding. The soft flesh of her inner thighs cushioned him perfectly. He canted his hips and entered her, nearly blind from the pleasure of their joining. Clenching this teeth, he tried to be as slow and gentle as he could, even as her body began to greedily draw him in.

When he filled her, Kagome finally knew what it meant to be complete. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as he breached her for the first time. The breadth of his hips kept her open as she took as much of him as she could.

“Kagome. You’re clenching so tightly around me,” Sesshōmaru murmured against her throat. “Are you okay?”

She nodded frantically.

“It’s just…“ She shivered when he shifted slightly. “So much…”

She was so full of him that even the tiniest movements sent jolts of pleasure from her womb to the rest of her body. “It’s also been a while… and you’re—” She paused, flushing pink, lifting her head slightly to flash him a shy glance. “— built differently.”

He returned his face to the crook of her neck and grinned against the enticing slope of her throat. “After all these years, I am happy to know I can still provide an element of surprise.”

“Not that much of a surprise,” she retorted. “After all— Nggh…” She grunted when he snapped his hips and thrust hard into her. “I’ve seen you naked before, remember? That year I forgot you were in the shower?”

“Mm-hmm.” With the tip of his tongue, he traced a path from her neck to the apple of her shoulder. “And I recall you were surprised then too.”

Kagome began to giggle, but as soon as he rolled his hips, which invariably put him even deeper inside her, the laughter morphed into a low, shaky groan. After that, nothing was funny anymore, not even a little bit. Because suddenly, he was in a place where no one had been before, reaching parts that no one had ever reached before.

Sesshōmaru set a gentle rhythm, unravelling her bit by bit, fanning the flame he had ignited inside her into an inferno. Each thrust was slow, unhurried. She bucked against him, rocking her hips, lifting them up, wordlessly asking for much rougher motions than the ones he was giving her.

“Patience, Kagome,” he murmured in her ear. “We have years of this, remember?”

“Sesshōmaru, no,” Kagome nearly growled, clawing at his chest. “Harder now, slow later.”

He let out a huff of laughter at her obvious frustration, prompting her to shove him back. She moved with the surprising agility for a retired demon hunter, straddling his lap. He looked up at her — half-dazed, half mesmerized as she sank down on his length and rolled her hips, taking control when he refused to move the way she wanted him to. After a brief moment of her rocking her hips sinuously, his breathing hitched and he started to look impatient himself. She liked seeing that change in him, so she did it again, moving languidly on him. Undulating her hips, fucking herself on him.

“Hurry,” Sesshōmaru growled through clenched teeth.

She arched one eyebrow at him.

Oh, now you want to hurry?

Kagome simply smiled and maintained her leisurely pace. The head of his sex rubbed a spot somewhere along the front of her inner wall. The delicious frictions made her shiver and mewl. She planted her hands on his chest, using him for support as her hips rose and fell with the wet, lewd noises that filled the cabin. His hands tightened around her waist every time he bottomed out inside her, but he let her do what she wanted, let her utilize his body to reach her pleasure.

Or— that had been the intention, but he was not made of stone.

He moved so quickly, she scarcely had the chance to yelp before he arranged her on hands and knees. She gasped when he came into her from behind in one smooth thrust. His body completely eclipsed her smaller frame as he caged her on all fours. He felt even more massive in this position. So deep, she could feel him at the back of her channel, like a throbbing heartbeat.

“Is this what you need?” He whispered in her ear, snapping his hips a little harder.

Aa-ahh… yeah…” She replied breathlessly, answering in frantic nods. “More. Harder.”

Hungry for more himself, he did not tease her, not this time. He fulfilled the wish she expressed with her moans and whimpers. He fed her his entire length. Her broken cry when he hilted was nearly his undoing. He pulled almost out before he plunged back in, hard, giving her the deep penetration that she craved. She came beautifully after the second thrust, dripping along her inner thighs.

He loved her this way for a long time. They moved in unison as though they were old-time lovers, knowing each other's needs and wants and how to satisfy them.

The feel of him inside her, hollowing her from inside out, was nearly blinding in its intensity. But what tipped her over the edge was the sight and feel of his hand on hers, of their fingers intertwining and lacing together, never to be separated again. That, and the sound of him moaning her name in her ear as he thickened and swelled and erupted against the mouth of her womb. She came with a cry ripped from the very depth of her soul. When she reached completion, it was just that: she was complete. With him inside her, beside her, she did not need anything else.

... ... ... ... ... ...

When it was done, they lay together on the area rug in front of the fireplace, content to be in each other’s arms, listening to the firewood crackling merrily inside the hearth. His fingers were idly playing with her hair, feeling the textures as she had her cheek pressed against his chest.

“I’ve imagined that so many times…” Kagome confessed softly as she brushed her lips back and forth on his sternum.

Sesshōmaru turned his head towards her, planting a tender kiss on top of her head. “You’ve imagined me pounding you into the rug so many times?”

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Umm… yeah.”

“I have as well,” he said, his fingers moving languidly to trace circles on her shoulder.

His sweet, quiet admission made her smile.

“My wildest fantasy was having you take me standing up against the wall of the cabin,” she whispered shyly, pressing her heated cheek against his skin. “The last few years, every time I walked in, I secretly prayed you would be so overcome with desire that you could not stop yourself.”

He took a lock of her hair and swirled it around his finger. “It can still be arranged.”

“What would be your fantasy?” She asked.

Sesshōmaru shifted onto his side, propping his head on one hand and stared at her as she lay on the rug, soft and sated, skin glowing from their lovemaking.

He reached out to graze the back of his hand along the curve of her cheek.

“Frankly? One of them is to wake up with you beside me every morning,” he admitted softly.

Her heart tightened at the honesty and simplicity of his confession. The happiness that suffused her chest was so overwhelming, it felt unreal.

"This surprisingly wholesome side of you makes me feel like a pervert." Her palm collided with his chest in a playful smack as she looked away and pouted.

Sesshōmaru let out a breathless laughter as he leaned over her. One hand supported his upper body as the other touched her chin, coaxing her to look at him again.

“You seemed to have forgotten. I did say it’s one of them,” he reminded her. She lifted her blue eyes to meet his golden ones, interest renewed.

“What are the others?” She softly queried.

Sesshōmaru bent and began to kiss her. First, he started on her forehead, then down to her eyelids. “You waking me up with your lips wrapped around me…” he murmured. Then, he moved to the tip of her nose before he sought her mouth, suckling her lower lip and sampling her taste again. “You riding me… oblivious to anything and everything other than taking your pleasure as the early morning sun bathed your skin and glinting off your hair.”

“One of those fantasies already happened, by the way,” Kagome pointed out, laughter dancing in her blue depths.

“Indeed,” he concurred, unable to hold back a tiny smile. “All and all, a productive evening.”

“Shall we make it even more eventful, then?” She asked, a little coy yet seductive grin playing about her lips.

A thrill of excitement coursed through him and settled in the pit of his stomach, fuelling his desire once more. “What do you propose, my ancient miko?”

She shot him a mock glare and pushed him until he lay on his back again.

“It’s not morning yet, but allow me to give you a preview, my Lord,” she purred.

Sesshōmaru knew what was to come, and his body was helpless to hide his excitement. He was already rigid when she touched him gently, running her hand up and down his length.

He was panting even before she took him into the warmth of her mouth and suckled him, moaning her name repeatedly in supplication. Her blue eyes watched him intently, drinking in his enjoyment. It was not the light of the morning sun that bathed her skin and glinted off her hair, but the warm glow of the hearth’s fire. Nevertheless, she could not look more beautiful to him than she was at that moment.

His. Finally.

Kagome tried to temper her excitement when Sesshōmaru suddenly pulled her up and effortlessly carried her to a nearby wall, but… Gods, his strength and prowess thrilled her so.

He pinned her against the wall and entered her in one smooth thrust, gravity on his side, helping him to hilt himself inside her. She threw her head back and keened her pleasure to the rafters, grappling at his shoulders for purchase as her legs wrapped around his waist, clasping him to her, never letting go.

He caught her wrists and pinned them above her head as he pressed her back against the wall, supporting her body with the power of his thighs alone. His muscles clenched as he buried himself inside her as far as she could take. And she shuddered, climaxing around him when she realized how deep he was.

“Release my hands,” she whispered.

“No,” he gritted through clenched teeth. Just the feel of her tight sheath wrapped around him was already too much. If she touched him, it would be over before he had enough.

The thought nearly made him laugh. As if he would ever have enough.

She looked up at him, her eyes softly pleading. “Please. I want to hold you...”

He knew those hands would drive him to his breaking point, but he could deny her nothing. As soon as he released her hands, they roamed. His Kagome was a very tactile creature. She enjoyed touching and being touched, and she caressed him everywhere, putting his self-restraint to the test. The gentle glide of her palms across his skin burned a path of pleasure through his limbs.

He could not bear it. She was tender; she was fierce. He contemplated pinning her hands above her head again just to gain some sanity.

But having both of his hands again meant he could hold onto her properly. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her rear, so hard he feared he would leave bruises on her skin. He set a ferocious pace while a distant voice warned him to soften his passion. Gently, gently. They had all night, and then the rest of their lives. But she was moaning so sweetly in his ear, whispering to him in hoarse gasps how good he felt, how deep, how hard… And that she wanted more, always more.

Enough. The part of him that wanted to dominate prompted him to capture her wrists and pin them on each side of her head. The wide stance of his legs kept her wide open as he caged her against the wall, pounding her in a hard, punishing rhythm. Her soft thighs bracketed his hips as she crossed her ankles and locked them against the small of his back. Her soft mewls turned to hoarse cries that spurred him on. He pummeled into her all the more, pressing her back to the hard surface behind her and rendering her helpless to do anything but take each bruising thrust.

She sank her blunt teeth into his shoulder as her orgasm wracked her body, and he let the sting of the bite hurtle him to his own climax. She clenched so tightly around him that he could barely pull away. He spilled inside her. And even then, his hips kept moving, thrusting gently, until he was finally spent.

Carefully, he peeled her off the wall and laid them both down in front of her fireplace. The two of them were still trembling from the aftermath of their orgasms.

“That was three down,” she panted. “How many more fantasies to go?”

“I don’t know.” Also panting, he pressed his forearm against his forehead as he strived to calm his galloping heartbeats. His grin, however, belied his exhaustion. “How many years have we been meeting like this?”

At his side, Kagome shook with laughter.


The following year

This year, they did not meet at the cabin.

Because they lived in the cabin. Together, all year long.

The world outside did not concern them any longer. He was an antiquated artefact from a forgotten era, and she — well, frankly, she was on her way there. And she did not miss anything or anyone outside of the tiny bubble they shared.

Kagome had left her job, not caring that the mega-corporation she worked for was irate with her for not giving sufficiently advanced notice. She had worked for decades and built her own nest egg. Sesshōmaru had worked for even longer. Centuries. Nowadays, their money and investments multiplied on their own, leaving them free to do anything or nothing.

It was the first year that they did not have to travel to the cabin to see each other, so Kagome suggested a year-end trip somewhere fun to keep their tradition going. So, for the past couple of weeks, as the hot summer weather mellowed into the crisp breeze of autumn and the maple tree's leaves in front of their cabin began to turn red, they had been throwing around ideas for the perfect destination for their ‘annual tryst’.

When Sesshōmaru suggested Switzerland, she arched her eyebrow. Surprised, and yet intrigued.

“Why Switzerland?” Kagome asked as they lay together on the sofa after dinner. She had her back rested against his chest while he cradled her in his arms.

He paused to think, his fingers idly raking through her raven locks.

“There’s the mountains,” he began.

Kagome thought about it for a moment.

“I like mountains,” she said slowly.

“The lovely, happy people,” he added with a little laughter in his voice, knowing she would like that.

“I like lovely, happy people,” she concurred.

Then, he smiled against her hair. “The chocolates.”

She turned and looked up at him, a devilish smile curling on those lips.

“I love chocolates.”

“Excellent hospitals,” he said, giving her a meaningful look as he placed his hand tenderly on her swollen belly. “Just in case.”

Kagome sighed in contentment and patted her noticeable baby bump before she reached up to caress his cheek and give him a lingering kiss.

“Switzerland it is, my mate,” she said.




INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
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