Dokuga Holiday Exchange

- Please use the following form when signing up:

GUIDELINES!

Dokuga or A03 Username (if applicable):

Tumblr Username (if applicable):

Livejournal Username (if applicable):

Email Address:

Ratings You Are Not Willing To Write/Draw:

Ratings You Do Not Wish To Receive:

Prompts you are requesting in your work:

Are You Willing To Be A Pitch Hitter?:

Age Statement (are you 18+):

Code Word:

- The whole point of this is to be a gift exchange. To get a gift, you must give a gift. If you drop out or disappear, your gift will be given to the group as a whole. Those who disappear without word will be banned from the exchange for one round.

GUIDELINES PART II

- The story/art must be centered around the Sess/Kag pairing. It doesn’t necessarily have to be focused on romance - it can be based on first impressions, friendship, even some sort of hatred. Side pairings are fine, just as long as it focuses on the relationship between Sesshoumaru and Kagome. This is a Dokuga Holiday Exchange, after all!

- Gifted works must be new to the exchange. Sequels to previous works, new chapters to a current story, ‘deleted scenes’ from other stories, or anything related to any of your previous work isn’t allowed.

-The story/art can be any genre, though you should go by the prompts given to you to make your best judgment. If your prompts are vague, do your best to work with them. But please pay attention to what is requested to stay away from. If a platonic relationship is requested, do not give a romantic one. If you have any questions about the prompt requested, you can always ask me for clarification, and I will pass your question or concern on to the appropriate person. Please DO NOT contact your giftee directly as your giftee is not supposed to know who the gift is coming from.

- All ratings are welcome, but if you have a rating that you refuse to write or wouldn’t like to receive, please make note of it whenever you sign up.

-For prompts this year please pick your favorite type of cookie (biscuit): Chocolate Chip, Oatmeal Raisin, Sugar, Shortbread, etc. Your gifter will include that in some form in your gift! 

- When working on your piece, please keep in mind what the recipient wants. If they ask for certain things to be used or not used, please follow them. Usually, there is nothing demanding in the requests; mostly just small things like the type of relationship or universe.

- If you are new to the exchange, please provide a link to a story (in any fandom) that you’ve written that is more than 1500 words. Drabble collections do not count. You can link to a one-shot or even an incomplete epic you’re currently working on, just as long as you can prove that you can meet the word count minimum (which I have lowered to 1,500 words this year because I realize signups opened late!)

- There will be a three strikes policy. I simply do not have the time to go chasing after everyone who signs up for the exchange, therefore there will be a three strikes policy as far as contacts/behavior go. If you ignore/fail to answer any correspondence within one week of sending, you will have a strike against you. Three strikes, you’re gone from the exchange.

- Please add the exchange email ([email protected]) to your contacts so you can avoid anything from us hitting the spam filter.

Explanation of Age Statement:

Again I will be asking for a statement of age (example: ’I am over the age of 18’/’I am under the age of 18’). The purpose of this is to prevent minors from gifting or being gifted with works that are rated MA. The official rule on Dokuga is: ONLY users ages 18 and up may read or post MA rated work, 16+ for rated M. As this exchange was affiliated with Dokuga, I have, as cureent mod of the Exchange, decided to follow the same rules on ratings as are followed at the main site. That being noted, if you falsify your age statement you will be removed from the exchange and receive an email notifying you why you were removed.

- It is your responsibility to have your story beta read before you send it in. We are looking for stories that are in their final polished form, not something that is hot off of the press. I simply do not have the time to beta every story that comes in. If you do not have a regular beta, you can look for someone on the Dokuga Forums, or on the SessKag Discord servers.

- Real life does get in the way sometimes, so if you have to drop for any reason please let me know as soon as you possibly can. I understand that you’ve got other obligations, and am not going to be angry with you should something come up. The code word is sugar. I will be angry, however, if you’re putting things off and finally fess up after your second extension and the posting date is looming. Should you drop, with or without word, the gift prepared for you will be shared for the group as a whole. Stuff happens, I get it! I just ask that you inform me and not ignore me. I get it, and I don’t mind working with you, but I can’t help you out, if you don’t tell me why you may need an extension! 

- Should a story come in that does not meet the requirements, the sole mod, me Kaoruhana reserve the right to reject the piece and ask you to correct it. Ignoring this request is grounds for your removal from the exchange. I'm rumning the event myself and just can't edit anything, so maybe we can all help each other out?

- Stories should be sent to the exchange email, [email protected]. Either attach it as a googledoc, or add it directly into the body of the email. If anything is sent in any other format, you will be asked to send in the preferred formatting. For art, please send/ post it in the body of the email so that I can easily share it!

- Keeping with the above statement, please don’t give out the name of who you are doing a gift for. Blowing the secret ruins the fun!

- No posting of stories elsewhere until after the big reveal on New Year’s Day. The whole point of a secret gift exchange is to keep it a secret. I will let you know when it is clear to post your stories on your own sites.

- As I am running the exchange, I will not be participating.

- When you send your story/art, please include the following header.

Title:

Author/Artist:

Recipient:

Rating:

Summary:

Original Prompts:

To ensure you have read and understood the rules, please send in the code word when you sign up for the exchange.

And as always, you can reach out to me with any questions on

Dokuga

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My only request is that you give me at least 48 hours to respond to any message, as I run this entire exchange myself, and well, sometimes, it’s a lot! 

Coming Home

Grey clouds roamed high above to lounge against an equally colourless sky. It was turning out to be one of those overcast days where everything seemed all too bright. The ones that would cause eyes to squint from the sharpness of a diffuse glow, etching a claim on exposed retinas not hidden behind shades. Tall buildings blended into the obtrusive glare of a nearly-white background. Newly fallen snow dusted streets and crevices like powdered icing, only tasteless and bland instead of sweet.   

But none of that mattered to him, this washout of a palette. 

A moment was taken to inhale a deep, cleansing breath of the chilled atmosphere, relieving the stench of recycled air from a fourteen-hour flight. He was never particularly fond of the winter months, or any other season. Yet there was now a subtle appreciation for the muting of the senses when the weather dropped, and all else faded.

-X-

She knew she shouldn’t have been so ambitious. Had known it was a terrible idea from the start. But stubbornness had sat deftly upon her left shoulder, whispering ‘it will work, trust me’. It had been the catalyst to the catastrophe that was happening right before her very eyes. 

But as she watched with helpless horror, any pitiful prayer to the God of Mayhem to have mercy was quickly dashed aside. 

Because it was already too late. 

The house of cards had come crashing down. 

The Tower of Pisa had finally tipped over. 

Olympus has fallen. 

Now she stood defeated, staring at the crumpled boxes strewn across wet pavement. 

“I told you it would take two trips.”

With a sliver of hope that nothing was broken, she precariously manoeuvred the remaining cardboard boxes in one arm using her hip as leverage, while the other hand carefully fished out a large set of keys. Unlocking the glass double doors, she pivoted her back to push against the entrance, shooting a wry look over to her amused co-worker. 

“All hail Sally, the mighty Oracle!” she bellowed in a poor imitation of renaissance speech, “Now give me a hand with those.”

Laughing good-heartedly, Sally simply shook her head at the theatrics before bending down to grab the fallen boxes, slightly surprised it was heavier than expected. “Honestly, Kagome, how much of this stuff do we even need? There’s like, four boxes!”

Kagome gave a nonchalant shrug as they both entered the darkened room, flipping the lights on once their cargo had been set in a row on the largest table. “Enough to cheer this place up.”

As Kagome dove into opening each box to display the contents, Sally gave an assessing once-over of their workplace. 

It was a mid-sized café situated in the financial district of the downtown core, tucked into the side of a large office building at street level. Unlike the corporate franchise giants of Tim Hortons or Starbucks, Java Jolt was independently owned by a sagely brother-sister duo. Chocolate leather seats comprised the comfy booths that lined the walls, each centred with a sleek marble table. The walls were coated in the soft cream shade of Benjamin Moore’s Navajo White. Dark brown trims raised the elegance while providing a practicality to high-trafficked areas and hiding scuff marks. The counter and kitchen equipment all matched in commercial-grade polished steel. Frosted glass and crystal sconces lay the finishing touches to the upscale parlour. Overall, it was exactly what one would expect from an establishment catered to the corporate elites. 

Perhaps Kagome was right. Though nice, this place was borderline boring. “As long as we don’t get into too much trouble with Matt. Remember what happened last year?”

“Psh, we just won’t use fake snow this time,” Kagome dismissed while digging through the contents in concentration, “And besides, he’ll be gone for the next two weeks. Plenty of time for us to take it all down and clean up before he gets back and yell at us.” 

Sally peered into what seemed like bottomless pits of things that glittered, shined, and shimmered. How did so much stuff managed to fit into only four boxes?  There seemed to even be a fake tree in there! 

Glancing at the clock reading 4:54 AM, Sally groaned internally, now knowing that Kagome hadn’t called to simply ask for a ride into work, and why she had chosen to come in an hour and a half before opening. She could already see her lazy morning vanishing, chased away by pure ambition. Too late now to back out.

“Alright,” she conceded, knowing there’s no way to divert Kagome’s current trajectory. It was the younger girl’s favourite holiday, after all. “What are we starting with first?” 

Beaming, Kagome held up a tangled mess of wires and bulbs. “Let there be light!” 

It was going to be a long, long morning.

-X-

It had taken two pre-opening sessions to get most of the decorations set up around the café. 

Colourful lights now lined the windows, creating an inviting glow for passers-by. A miniature evergreen with polyester pine needles stood by the pick-up counter, stuffed with gold and silver ornament balls and its own set of mini string lights. Bouquets of silk hollies were nestled neatly at each booth on the wall ledge as to not take up table space. Tinsel and garlands were strung along the bakery display. The entire place had been transformed. It now resembled a shop in the Christmas Market down by the distillery. 

But, it wasn’t done. She wasn’t done.

“Why are you putting pigeons on the window?”

Kagome turned from where she stood on the step stool, blinking owlishly at Sally’s questioning gaze. Silence stretched. She glanced back at the two picture cut outs that had just been taped up. Reaching out a hand, she traced their outlines; one bird shaded in a deep violet, the other in a light pink. A soft smile crested her lips. “They’re turtle doves. In love.”

“They look like pigeons,” Sally replied, unconvinced. “But my question still stands; why are you putting them on the window?”

Kagome turned to see the twenty-eight year-old woman standing there with a finger to her chin, caramel-haired ponytail falling over a shoulder, head slightly tilted, contemplating. 

Her smile brightened, the imagery inducing a comforting familiarity. “Because it’s the second day of Christmas.” 

“That makes sense now,” Sally nodded, making her way over to clear a few mugs from a vacant table. “I was wondering why there was a plush duck sitting in the tree since yesterday.”

Kagome laughed then, climbing back down from the step stool. “That’s a partridge!”

-X-

He wasn’t sure why he had opted to take a cab today. 

Walking would have gotten him to the destination faster.

A sourly glance was aimed at the taxi’s digital timer before swivelling back to the standstill traffic. For a city of this size, he couldn’t fathom why anyone had thought it would be a good idea to close off an entire lane, on a two-lane roadway shared with streetcars that ran on above-ground tracks, and during rush hour. It had to have been a massive oversight of city planners. No civil engineer in their right mind would have rubberstamped this web of snail-paced excuse for transportation in the municipality’s busiest areas. And no proficient project manager would have decided that this would be the best time for traffic-halting construction work to commence. A bunch of incompetents. 

A loud honk and a string of foreign curses streaming from the driver’s mouth brought him out of his inner scrutiny, the cab coming to a complete stop mere inches from tapping the bumper of the car ahead. They had only travelled half a block before becoming gridlocked. 

This was a colossal waste of time. 

Grabbing hold of his briefcase and handing over a fifty-dollar bill, he swung open the door and exited, not sparing a second glance to the cabbie utter his thanks for the overpayment on a twenty-dollar ride. 

The rush hour frenzy was in full effect. Businessmen and pedestrians milled about in swarms of black and grey. It wasn’t much different from back home. Humans were all the same. They were all dressed for the season – bundled up in pea coats made of wool or down-filled puffer jackets, boot-covered feet causing mini splatters of melted snow as they hurried to their destinations. 

Eyeing the brownish slush that had once been white, he frowned as the cold and wet began soaking into his leather shoes. Perhaps he should have just stayed in the cab and endured the two-hour ride back to the hotel that was only six blocks away. If only he could still fly without being detected. Today’s enhanced technology and CCTV would make it near impossible to do so in such a congested area without triggering a UFO sighting. Pushing away the thought of the past versus the present, he made his way along the sidewalk, blending in like everyone else. 

The smells of the city was a pungent spike that stabbed his senses. Unlike his arrival on that quiet Sunday morning, the scent of fresh snow had melted away to a saturation of damp and mildew. 

Grimacing, he sped up the pace, but a sliver of a long-buried scent stopped him dead in his tracks.

Honeysuckle and jasmine.

Dipped in rich, dark coffee.

-X-

A reason for why Christmas was one of her favourite North American holidays was the sheer joy and happiness that exuded from everyone, even the grumpiest of grouches. The other reason was the slowing down of the city. People seemed to rush around less, a simmering of the pulse to something less manic. The city toned down, and so did the customers. It was a welcomed break from the daily 9AM line-ups and 3PM refuel. Not that she didn’t like her current job, holidays just gave her a bit of a breather. 

Like today, just five days away from Christmas, the café was quiet except for the few patrons typing away on their laptops, blind and deaf to the world around them, likely to try and meet any last-minute deadlines for whatever assignment they were furiously working on. Kagome watched them idly from her seat at the front counter, occasionally checking on the coffee machine and cleaning non-existent spills here and there to kill the time. Sally had already flown home for the holidays, leaving Kagome the only one manning the day shift. 

Opening the calendar on her phone, she double checked her itinerary, eager for her turn to visit home after Christmas Day when Sally is back on shift. 

Just a few more days.

When the bells that she had hung up over the front door chimed in a delicate tone to indicate a customer had entered, she pocketed her phone and looked up with a smile, only to freeze at the tall figure standing before her. 

It can’t be. 

She had to have been daydreaming, a broken film reel stuck on scenes scanning through her mind, damaged from years of replaying those same images whenever reality felt like slipping.

But she wasn’t dreaming this time. 

She was not imagining it. 

Though his face was unmarked and she felt no aural buzz against her skin, she recognized those gilded eyes and platinum hair from anywhere. 

He was real. In the flesh.

Sesshomaru.

-X-

“Miko.” 

The moment stood still, suspended in time as all at once, all those years of wondering of what had happened to her friends in the past flashed through her mind. She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes, threatening to release like a damn and flood the gates. 

But she held back, locked those gates and reinforced them, blinking away the threat of tears.

“No one has called me that in a long time now.” Her lips were trembling as she fought to settle her nerves, still shocked at seeing him here, in her time, dressed in a modern black coat and dark slacks.

“How are you here?” He spoke in the same baritone that echoed from a distant memory, stepping towards the counter where she stood behind. The underlying question was clear in his golden gaze. Why are you still alive. How are you still alive.

She was curious too. About what had happened in the past 500 years. What she had missed. The lives of her friends. There were many, many things she wanted to know, words stringing together like those tangled Christmas lights, on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to know everything. 

Kagome plastered on a hopeful smile, “Do you have time for a coffee?”

-X-

After a few awkward pauses stemming from Kagome still trying to process what was happening, they had settled into a companionable conversation. She had seated them at a booth closer to the front counter so she could easily hop in and out, in case another customer had to order. Sesshomaru wasn’t much a coffee drinker, but luckily they had several blends of exotic teas that we acquiesced to. 

Before long, an hour had passed, and the daylight darkened into night. She had told him of her true origins; of falling down the well all those years ago, of what had catapulted her into the journey to collect the jewel shards, of her disappearance back to her own time after the defeat of Naraku and a wish had been made to rid the jewel forever. And though she did most of the talking, he was forthcoming with answering her questions too – about the lives of her friends. About their deaths. 

“I’m glad Sango and Miroku were able to get married and settle down to have kids.” Kagome smiled, a stray tear trailing down her cheek as her gaze drifted to the turtle doves on the window. “I’m glad they no longer had to fight.”

Sesshomaru handed her a napkin. “Your companions lived happy lives.”

Grateful, she dabbed away the wetness in her eyes. But she wasn’t ready to ask about the others. About her best friend that she had come to love in a completely different, platonic way. About the kit that she loved like her own. Not yet. “And what about you? What have you been up to all these years?”

His eyes met hers then, knew that she was only distracting from what she truly wanted to know. “Rebuilding.”

He regaled the tale of the fall of the Western Lands. Of how things had changed over the centuries; the disruption of men and technology and science. Of the burning of his domain and years that it had taken to rebuild and overcome. To reinforce, to adapt. To Change. 

She was curious if he had ever started a family of his own. 

He told her no. 

“Why not?” she asked. “Didn’t you ever love someone?” 

Long fingers reached for his cup, sharp nose inhaling the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine, a scent that had nothing to do with the tea he was drinking. It was a scent from his long lost past that was now as bright as he ever remembered, all emanating from the being sitting across from him awaiting his every word; the woman with dark, midnight hair and glistening sapphire eyes. 

A woman who had been lost to time, and found again.

-X-

Their conversations had continued over the next couple of days. Sesshomaru would stop by in the afternoon when the café was practically empty, sitting at the same booth from their first meeting in the modern era. Kagome would bring over two cups of tea and some pastries. He would only drink the tea, but she had enjoyed having something to nibble on while they talked. 

He had told her of his current ventures, of why he was in Toronto to attend a week-long national conference to represent his company. She had told him of her being in the last year of obtaining a master’s degree in social work at the local university while juggling with part time work at the café. 

“Why not pursue your degree in Tokyo?” he asked. 

Kagome chewed the edge of her plush lips, and he noticed her eyes dipping, downcast as her shoulder slumped. “I guess… I just needed a change of scenery.” 

Staying in Tokyo would have been closer to home, to her family. 

To the well. 

But she just couldn’t. She didn’t tell him of all the years she’d spent trying to pull herself out from a mountain of grief of losing her friends. Of a whole life she had known on the other side that was lost to her, that the well and the shrine grounds was a constant reminder of something so close yet so far out of reach.  

She couldn’t tell him, but when her gaze rose to meet his, she knew she didn’t have to. 

His amber eyes reflected the warmth streaming in from the afternoon sun. He wasn’t what she remembered him to be. He was…softer. The edges rounded out. 

Kagome smiled, and took another bite of her butter tart.  

-X-

It was Christmas Eve, and like most stores, the café was closing early. 

“When are you leaving?” she asked from where she was bent over with a rag, wiping down the empty tables.

“Tomorrow evening.”

Straightening, Kagome walked over to their regular booth and sat down across from him in her usual seat. The rag twisted within her hands, hidden beneath the polished table. She glanced around the coffee shop, eyes everywhere except on him. 

Reds and greens and yellows and blues dotted the window, each little bulb emitting a glow that no longer gave a sense of warmth when she looked at it. Her gaze turned towards the miniature tree where the ornaments now seemed too glaringly shiny. The tinsel around the bakery display was beginning to look tacky, bits and pieces flaking off from getting caught on customer’s sleeves lean against the display. She eyed hollies by the booth. Threads of fake silk stuck out, the plastic berries collecting a tiny layer of dust. 

None of it felt the same. None of it was real.

Not the fake turtle doves in conjured love by the window. 

Not the lonesome partridge stuck into the plastic tree. 

“Are you coming back to Toronto?” she asked almost too quietly, still not able to meet his eyes.

There was a moment of quiet. A hesitation.

“No.” 

-X-

Splashing water on her face, she stared into the mirror of the dimly lit bathroom, noticing the puffiness ringing each eye. After getting back to her apartment after work last night, she had cried herself to sleep. She wasn’t all too surprised at why though. Sudden bouts of nostalgia and waterworks were no stranger to her over the last eight years. 

And yet, something was different this time. 

Perhaps it was because of the easy companionship she had found in Sesshomaru, the fact that he was someone who knew her; in the flesh and not in her dreams. 

That fact that he was real. And not another reassembled figment of her memory.

The fact that she would probably never see him again.  

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s time to let go, Kagome,”

Drying her face with a towel, she made her way back out front to close up shop, fully intent on not dwelling in the past on Christmas Day. It was supposed to be cheerful and bright, so she will try her best to do just that.

But as she rounded the corridor to the front, once again, she was frozen in place at the sight before her. 

“Sesshomaru,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to crack. “Wh-what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to miss your flight?”

Her eyes were wide, breath held as though afraid to breathe, afraid to move as he approached in measured steps, coming to stop just inches away. 

“Kagome,” he spoke, and she could feel his breath fan across her cheeks at soft sound of her name. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, and felt her world spinning when a warm hand cupped her cheek. “Come home with me.”

And before she had a chance to respond, before she could even register the words, she felt his lips brush against hers, petal light, lifting an invisible heaviness that she hadn’t even realized was there. Unconsciously she leaned in closer, a tingle of a dormant aura tickling the edge of her peripheral senses. 

It had been a long, long time since she had felt the familiar wave of youki caress her skin, waking her own reiki from its eternal sleep. 

It was liberating, she felt…alive. 

And just as she was about to be lost in the sensation of their entwining power, he moved away, just barely, breaking off the chaste kiss. 

Sapphire blue met sunset gold, speaking volumes as he held her close. 

She smiled, genuinely, radiantly. “Yes.”

“I would not have picked those streamers, but it seems your choices have worked out.”

Kagome, perched precariously at the top of her ladder, turned and shot a venomous glare down at the source of that familiar, unwelcome voice. She was well-acquainted with its owner and his habit of spewing condescending, patronising quips—it belonged to Sesshōmaru, her boss, and his attitude was not what she needed at the moment.

Weighing her options, she decided that her best move would be to ignore him altogether, something that she did often in a desperate bid to preserve her sanity. She felt that her chosen theme of purple and gold was perfectly fine, thank you very much, and she certainly didn’t need his validation to feel good about her taste in Christmas decorations.

When she’d finished wrapping the streamers around the columns of the hall, she descended the ladder and found herself face-to-face with the man himself. She narrowed her eyes at him but held her tongue and brushed past, snubbing him thoroughly.

She heard him wander off to another corner of the room, stopping in front of the Christmas tree that she’d spent ages decking out with thoughtfully curated ornaments. Purple and gold tinsel curled around the fir tree, its branches heavy with hand-painted glass globes and twinkling lights. A violet moon crowned the top of the tree, emanating a soft purple glow.

“Your placement of tinsel is sloppy, but it yields a…” Sesshōmaru paused, as if searching for the right words. “Whimsical effect.”

Kagome grit her teeth and started fussing with the tablecloth. It had started from the moment she’d joined this company. As her supervisor, Sesshōmaru always had some sort of complaint about her work. She’d been a fresh graduate and an aspiring travel writer, and she had marked Sesshōmaru as her sworn enemy the very first time she’d turned in a draft and had him denounce it as “disorganised and lacking in insight.”

Come to think of it, she’d greeted him enthusiastically on the first day, politely requesting his guidance as she started on her writing career, only to be met with a bad omen—Sesshōmaru had pinned her a cool glare and declared, “We will see if you have any talent worth nurturing. If your work is not satisfactory, I will have you transferred to Koga’s department immediately.”

She supposed that her work must’ve been acceptable, since she’d avoided the cruel fate of becoming one of Koga’s subordinates. Within their office, Koga’s department had earned a notorious reputation as the place where inept writers’ careers went to die. He was especially incompetent, and most unfortunates who ended up there eventually developed the good sense to quit the company altogether, before their professional lives crashed and burned entirely under Koga’s clumsy guidance.

The mere memory had her balling her hands into fists, creating wrinkles in the snow-white tablecloth. She forced herself to relax her fingers and smoothed out the silky fabric. It’s Christmas Eve. I will not let him get to me!

Kagome was more than a little resentful about Sesshōmaru’s presence. She’d been happy enough that her coworkers had nominated her to plan the annual Christmas party until Sesshōmaru had been appointed by Naraku, the company’s director himself, to join in planning the festivities as well. Sesshōmaru’s sour expression matched hers when they found out that he was to be her partner. All thoughts of good cheer and Christmas spirit abruptly went out the window.

Sesshōmaru isn’t a party planner, she’d thought as she braced herself for the worst. He’s a party pooper.

As she’d feared, the Christmas party had rapidly become an ordeal as Sesshōmaru once again proved himself to be a demanding dictator rather than a helpful collaborator. His mouth did more work than his hands, and it felt as if he stood around offering unsolicited advice more than he participated in any actual planning. Whether it was food, decorations, or entertainment, he had something critical to say, no matter how little she wished to hear it.

Recalling his utter uselessness as a party planner only infuriated her further, so she turned her attention to more pleasant things. Kagome hurried over to the boxes of food stacked neatly by the door, as well as the small collection of food prepared by her coworkers. They’d had more than enough budget to hire a good catering service this year, but their office was a closely-knit bunch, and people had been more than happy to chip in with their own goodies for the Christmas dinner.

“I will assist.” Sesshōmaru had somehow deigned to make himself helpful and was carrying some of the food over to the table, completely unprompted. Kagome thought it was practically a Christmas miracle.

“Gee, thank you sir.” Kagome’s thanks lacked any form of sincerity, though she at least tried to hold back the snark in her voice. As usual, Sesshōmaru was completely unfazed, ignoring her comment as he plated the food and set out cutlery with his usual efficiency.

Kagome left him to his tasks and turned to the homemade treats instead. Her coworkers had left boxes and trays, labelled with their names and the food they’d brought, stacking them high on a side table. Employees here came from diverse backgrounds, and there was a fascinating mix of sweet and savoury foods from all around the globe. Lan, who was from Hong Kong, had brought some fried sesame balls, while Lily and Leon, who were from Italy and Greece respectively, had made biscotti cegliese and stuffed grape leaves. 

For her own contribution, Kagome had brought an assortment of handmade wagashi. She loved sweets, and was pretty darn good at making them herself. She’d toiled for hours in the kitchen to perfect each daifuku and sakuramochi and was proud of her efforts. Setting out her sweets with a smile, she peered over at Sesshōmaru, who was working on the other end of the table. He caught her eye and came over, and she groaned internally as he passed a critical eye over her desserts.

“While your daifuku are unevenly sized, they do seem to be perfectly shaped.” Once again, Sesshōmaru offered unsolicited feedback. He looked over her shoulder. “An acceptable assortment of flavours, too.”

His nose wrinkled as he sniffed. “These must be filled with anko, of course. There’s also… strawberries, peaches, and… apples with cream? Somewhat unusual choices, but—”

“Sesshōmaru,” Kagome began, fighting to keep her tone as even and neutral as possible, even though annoyance simmered just beneath the surface. “It’s Christmas. Where’s your Christmas spirit? Could we leave out the criticism this one day of the year, please?”

“It… was not intended as criticism.” The words stuck in his throat, like they took effort, and for some reason, he refused to meet her gaze.

Kagome chanced a glance at Sesshōmaru out of the corner of her eye. Was she imagining it, or was there just the slightest hint of a rosy flush on the crests of those criminally high cheekbones? Why am I thinking about his cheekbones? And what is he talking about? He’s done nothing but offer criticism!

She gave an awkward cough to disperse the sudden tension in the room. “What did you bring?”

Kagome figured that Sesshōmaru would’ve brought something complicated and fancy. It was just like him, the uptight perfectionist, to show up the rest of the company without even meaning to do so. Maybe he’d bought something expensive and exotic. She remembered that Sesshōmaru had gotten himself into a lengthy debate with Lily about the best choice of filling for sfogliatelle before, so perhaps they’d see some of that delicious, flaky pastry that was such a pain to make—

She gaped in wonder as her usually unruffled boss visibly tensed, his shoulders stiffening, his downturned lips pressed into a thin, grim line. He pointed at a large lunch box and Kagome peered over to see… lumps of coal?

“Sesshōmaru…” She felt dubious about the contents of the box. “What are these?”

“Fried chicken. It is traditional,” he declared, though Kagome felt his tone wasn’t quite as imperious as usual. “Fried chicken is immensely popular at Christmastime—”

“Ha!” Her triumphant shout cut short his explanations.

“So…” Kagome could barely speak over her sudden fit of giggles. “So there are things you can’t do well after all!”

Ignoring his look of offence, she clutched the table as she laughed without restraint. The charred, blackened lumps sitting sadly in their box couldn’t pass for fried chicken at all. She pitied the people who’d no doubt feel compelled to try it out of politeness or morbid curiosity. The fact that Sesshōmaru appeared to be hopeless at cooking was utterly strange to her—it was such a human weakness for the man who always seemed so inhuman in his strengths.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to savour your delicate choice of seasoning over the strong flavours of—of charcoal!” She gasped.

“Are you quite finished?” Sesshōmaru’s tone was frosty, and he stood stiff as a board with arms crossed over his chest while he waited for Kagome to regain her composure. Displeased as he looked, he did not reprimand her.

She refused to apologise for her outburst, but she did bite her lip to hold back the next wave of laughter.

“Of course there are things I cannot do well.” The twitching of his jaw told Kagome that it pained him greatly to admit it. “I have flaws. Just the same as you.”

It was such an unusual confession from her haughty, arrogant boss that it took her a while to recover. “Well, maybe next time you should remember that before you tell me I’m a bad writer,” she quipped, just to break the silence.

Sesshōmaru’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head as he contemplated her words. “I do not think of you as a bad writer, Kagome. On the contrary, you have been an asset to our department.”

Her jaw dropped. “I—excuse me?” Kagome cast a furtive eye to the nearby bottles of champagne, wondering if Sesshōmaru had been sneaking a drink… or five. Nope. Still full. The champagne was untouched, so miraculously, Sesshōmaru’s words were offered while sober.

“Did I not tell you that your last draft was exciting and would be published on our landing page?”

“You—you did,” Kagome recalled. “But you told me that it was unstructured and contained too much word rep!”

Sesshōmaru sighed, pushing a hand through silver bangs. “Your work could certainly be improved if you worked on the structure and eliminated repetition.”

Kagome narrowed her eyes at him. “You do know that you’re a master of backhanded compliments though, right?” 

She’d focussed so much on his habit of criticising—well, everything, that she’d overlooked any praise that he offered. Knowing that he thought of her as a good writer was a groundbreaking revelation that she struggled mightily to process. She assumed that any compliments he offered were perfunctory, meant to cushion the blow of his endless complaints. Then again, Sesshōmaru didn’t care what others thought, nor was he in the habit of sparing anybody’s feelings.

“I… have been told as much.” He finally conceded. Noting Kagome’s slack-jawed expression, he added, “You are a selective listener. I assume you also missed it when I said I recommended you for a promotion?”

“I—I suppose so.” She stuttered. “Wait, what?”

“Hey, Kagome!”

Their exchange was interrupted by Koga, who had crossed through the double doors and made a beeline for her immediately. The overly friendly department head inserted himself between her and Sesshōmaru, making himself a part of a conversation he had no business being involved with.

Kagome plastered a smile over her face as she greeted the department head. “Hi Koga. Looking forward to Christmas?”

Before she could silently plead for Sesshōmaru’s help, he had wandered off to greet Tsukuyomaru, who was strolling in with the rest of his department. While Koga nattered on about nothing in particular, Kagome found herself lost in thought about Sesshōmaru. How many other compliments did I miss, she wondered. Perhaps another weakness of his would be that he’s bad with praise?

Regardless, it felt good to be recognised for her effort and skill. That was what mattered to her. Kagome caught herself feeling a little guilty that she might’ve misunderstood what could’ve been well-intentioned comments from Sesshōmaru. His delivery needed work, but perhaps the sincerity and goodwill had been there all along.

She didn’t have an opportunity to speak to him until after dinner, when everyone else had gathered into their usual groups with alcohol to accompany gossip and laughter. Instead of mingling, Sesshōmaru sipped his champagne in a corner of the room, boredom clear on his face.

“Do you have plans for Christmas day?” Kagome asked.

He raised an eyebrow, lifting his lips from the champagne glass. “I plan on spending time with my daughter. We will be having… a tea party.”

“A tea party? Your daughter?” Kagome choked, completely taken aback. It was too much new information all at once. How had she worked with this man for two years and not realised he had a daughter? “What’s her name? How—how old is she?”

“Adoptive daughter,” he clarified, reading her questioning look with remarkable accuracy. “And Rin turns eleven tomorrow.”

“What does she like?” Kagome was seized by a thoroughly insane idea. “Oh! Will you be needing a cake?”

Sesshōmaru looked nonplussed by the sudden barrage of questions and he answered haltingly. “‘Cute’ animals. The colour orange. Flowers.” He winced at the last word.

“What is it about flowers?” Kagome asked, not missing his exasperation.

“Rin enjoys… flower crowns.” Sesshōmaru pinched the bridge of his nose. “She also enjoys putting them on me.”

Kagome giggled at the mental image, the thought of her arrogant boss’ head weighed down by sweet-smelling flowers. That he indulged his daughter’s whims told her that he obviously had a soft spot for the child, yet another of the few weaknesses he had.

“Strawberries.” He added, recalling Rin’s fondness for the fruit.

“That’s perfect! I can make a Christmas cake for her. It’s just the best with fresh cream and strawberries.”

“You don’t have to—” He began, but Kagome held up a hand to stop his protests.

“I want to. I’ve got the ingredients ready at home. And I wanted to… thank you. For the recommendation.” She fidgeted, feeling it was a little strange to be doing something nice for her absolute demon of a boss. However, Kagome was open to new beginnings. It was Christmas, after all. She could manage a little forgiveness.

Sesshōmaru’s golden eyes widened. “Think nothing of it. It was the least I could do, given your talent and hard work.”

“It’s settled then!” Kagome clapped her hands together with a sense of finality. “I’ll have the cake ready for you and your daughter tomorrow. Merry Christmas, Sesshōmaru.”

Sesshōmaru’s usually stoic features cracked into a rare smile, his lips lifting just barely at the corners, golden gaze softening.

A Recipe for Disaster

“I have no expertise in this matter.”

“All the more reason for you to be in charge of it.”

Sesshoumaru downed the rest of his sake, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Mother, I do not see how—”

“My dear son, this event will be the first of an annual tradition, and you will be involved.”

“Considering my company is paying for the endeavour, I would say I am already involved enough.”

Ruby lips curved up into a sultry smirk. “I will wager that you will not remain on the sidelines for this one, dear son.”

“Provide a single reason as to why that is.”

“Rin is looking forward to it.”

Sesshoumaru scowled, his body instantly tensing. “I did not think you were the type to resort to blackmail.”

Her smirk gave way to laughter. “I will use whichever means necessary.” She waved down their server, requesting a dessert menu. 

“I have another meeting in the morning. I do not have time to—”

Perfectly manicured claws waved him off. “Dessert is the whole reason we are here in the first place. Kagura has not stopped raving about them.”

“I do not enjoy sweets.”

Golden eyes narrowed as she accepted the menus from their server. “I had thought you had grown a little in the last few centuries, but it seems you have regressed to the petulant child who refused to eat anything not caught by his own hands.”

Sesshoumaru resisted the urge to loosen his tie, something akin to shame creeping up his neck. 

“Just try one, and if it does not instantly change your mind, you are excused from having to participate in this particular event.”

He raised an eyebrow, skeptical at the ease at which his mother was giving in but nodded in acceptance. He had not come across a dessert he had enjoyed yet, and he wasn’t about to start now. 

It wasn’t long before two small plates were placed in front of him, and Sesshoumaru was pained to admit that the esthetic alone was enough to sway him. 

The coffee jelly was served in a martini glass, a layer of decadent cream on top before being garnished with a fresh strawberry. The jelly was fragrant, the scent making his mouth water before he’d even taken a bite. 

But it was nothing compared to the Raindrop Cake. Pickled cherry blossoms lined the bottom of the transparent dome, contrasted beautifully against the accompanying decorative leaves. The server poured some black sugar syrup over the top, managing not to pop the bubble-like treat. 

Sesshoumaru looked up at his mother, the female daiyoukai resting her chin delicately on her hands as she took in his reaction.

“I shall wait to say, ‘I told you so’ until you have tasted them.”

He swallowed his pride and forced himself to taste both of them, his eyes widening in shock. 

“I am glad I still have ways to ruffle your fur.”

This time he managed a scowl. “You do not need to rub it in.”

“I fear I must! Especially considering you have eaten both in their entirety.”

Sesshoumaru blinked and stared down at the plates, both scraped bare of even the barest crumbs. He set his spoon down before he did something as uncouth as lick it clean.

“You have made your point, mother. We will hire the chef to cater the event.”

“Wonderful! Let us inform them now.” She spoke to their server, a smug look on her face.

A wolf demon soon stopped by their table, his dark uniform pristine as he shook their hands.

“A pleasure to serve you today. Did you enjoy your meal?”

“Indeed. We wish to employ your services for an upcoming event.” Sesshoumaru motioned to the empty plates. “Your desserts were—”

The chef smirked, flashing a fang as he flipped his long ponytail over his shoulder. “As much as I’d love to hear everything you have to say, I gotta admit, I didn’t make the desserts.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyebrows disappeared under his bangs, and he turned to his mother, preparing himself for the punchline of the joke he was not privy to, but she shared the same expression.

“You order these from somewhere else?”

The chef bowed slightly. “Sorry, it is written on the menu. We don’t order them in or anything; we’ve got a pastry chef that’s in charge of all of our post-dinner treats.”

It wasn’t unheard of—many restaurants had staff who specialized in specific parts of the menu—but this was the first time Sesshoumaru had come across a chef so willing to refuse to accept the praise on behalf of their employees.

“I assume they are in tonight? May we meet them?” his mother asked, intrigue written clearly on her face.

“Sure thing!” The chef grinned, then headed back to the kitchen, muttering under his breath. “Maybe she’ll start believing her stuff is as good as I say it is if she hears it from someone else.” 

Sesshoumaru’s curiosity spiked. “Will a pastry chef be adequate for this event?”

His mother hummed in response. “I am sure she’ll be fine. The clientele is looking forward to festive sweets above everything else.”

It wasn’t long before a woman approached their table, wiping the backs of her hands on the stained apron around her waist. She smelled of jasmine and anxiety, but her chin was held high.

Sesshoumaru instantly approved.

“Good evening. Chef mentioned you wished to speak to me?”

Adjusting the fur around her shoulders, his mother leaned forward, the sultry smile back in place.

“We wish to compliment you on your desserts.”

The woman bowed, her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun at the base of her neck. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

His mother chuckled. “Well, to be honest, I did not get to enjoy them. My son consumed them both before I had a chance to.”

She turned her attention to him, and Sesshoumaru’s mouth went dry. 

Blue eyes were common enough within the youkai community—vibrant colours were usually a sign of pureblood heritage—but the depths of the sapphire orbs staring back at him at that moment had his breath stilling in his lungs.

And then she was talking, and he was forced to actively focus on what she was saying.

“Was there anything in particular that stood out?”

Swallowing thickly, Sesshoumaru found his voice and leaned back in the booth. “I do not have an affinity for sweets, but you have managed to sway my opinion on the matter.”

The woman looked shocked at his critique, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

“Thank you.” 

“Do you cater private functions?”

Her eyes widened even further, and she looked between the two inuyoukai. “Ummm… No. I mean—not yet, I’ve only been here a few months and—”

“We have a holiday event coming up and are looking to hire someone who specializes in desserts.”

“But I’m only—”

“Notoriety means nothing to us, dear,” his mother cut in. “The fact that my son ate not one but two of your dishes is proof enough of your abilities.”

Her mouth snapped shut, and she nodded mutely as his mother filled her in on the event and the specifics of what her job would entail. It seemed to strike a chord with the young chef as she started excitedly listing off the various dishes she would create. 

The anticipation youthened her features, and Sesshoumaru found himself wondering what she looked like with her hair down. The image of half-lidded eyes and loose waves flashed through his mind, and he shifted in his seat, his pants suddenly tight around his thighs.

“This is the address, dear,” she said, handing over one of his business cards. “The hotel has a fully stocked kitchen that you will be using, but please let my son know of any specific ingredients or supplies you require.”

“It shouldn’t be anything expensive. You can save a lot of money if you shop at—”

“Cost is not an issue. Supply me the list, and I will ensure you have the best of what you require.”

The woman opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it and simply nodded. “Will you be at the event? Do you have any requests?”

The question was innocent enough—the woman seemed to be the accommodating sort—but given Sesshoumaru’s already wandering thoughts, he cursed himself as his instincts suddenly went on alert, looking for any hidden meaning behind her words.

His mother appeared to have the same idea.

“Why, of course he will be! His company is the main sponsor, after all.”

The woman was taken aback at his mother’s eagerness, and if Sesshoumaru had any less honour, he would’ve kicked her under the table.

“Do not concern yourself with my tastes. It is the clientele that you should focus on.”

“I know, but—”

“I am sure Sesshoumaru will be happy to taste your samples once you’ve decided on the menu.”

Sesshoumaru’s leg twitched. 

Interfering wench. 

The woman nodded, then promised to be in touch before the week was out. After thanking them both again, she turned to return to the kitchen. Sesshoumaru’s hand shot out, stopping her from turning away completely.

“Your name?”

She flushed with embarrassment. “Higurashi. Kagome Higurashi.”

 * * * * * * * * * * 

“It’s all wrong.”

Kagome froze in the middle of rolling out a layer of fondant. “I’m sorry?”

The bulbous little green thing that had proclaimed himself as Taisho’s assistant was prodding her trays, his wooden cane clacking against the floor.

“These childish creations are not worthy of our host.”

“But—”

He turned on her, glaring as he raised his chin in the air. “I don’t know why an amateur was hired for this job. Your name is nothing in comparison to those with more prestige and experience.”

Kagome’s mouth dropped open. Most of Taisho’s employees had been accommodating, some had even been excited about her ideas, but this annoying little amphibian had been poking holes in her plans since day one.

She was ready to use his head as a football.

“Taisho specifically said—”

“It is on his behalf that I speak!”

Her hands stilled once more, the ugly hand of insecurity wrapping around her neck. Why would Taisho have changed the menu now? There were less than 24 hours before the event began and she’d almost finished prepping everything—was almost on her way out the door.

Glancing towards the large trays of brightly coloured desserts, Kagome tried to keep her voice level. “If something needs to be changed, then he should be here himself to request it. I don’t have enough time to—”

“You dare to challenge the word of your employer? It is only due to his sympathy and mother that you are here in the first place. This is not the kind of product the company is known for. It is meant to be lavish and impress.”

“But—” Her retort was once again cut off as his cane came within an inch of her face.

“If you do not fix it, you will be let go. And we will make it known how difficult you were to work with.”

To a new chef trying to make her name in the world, it was the kiss of death.

Kagome nodded slowly and the frog smirked before exiting the way he’d come, muttering about how he would be praised under his breath.

She looked around at all her hard work—everything she’d specifically planned out for the clients—and her eyes burned with tears. She’d had so much fun coming up with the menu, and Taisho had seemed to be okay with it during their initial meetings.

Apparently she was horrible at reading people.

Quickly wiping off her hands, she pulled out her phone, her shoulders slumped as she tapped the first slot in her speed dial. He answered on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Because you never call me during prep time.”

Kagome sniffed, then covered her eyes. “He doesn’t like any of it.”

“Who?”

“Taisho. That stupid assistant just came in and told me I have to change everything. He basically called me a peasant.”

Kouga made an indignant snort. “And since when do you listen to things that look like gum on the bottom of your shoe?”

She normally would’ve laughed along with him, but the weight of the task ahead—and everything she was going to have to change—was heavy on her shoulders. 

“Since he threatened to blacklist me if I didn’t do as I was told.”

“What?! Fuck what I said before, he doesn’t look like gum yet, but he’s gonna after I get through with him!”

Managing a watery smile, Kagome allowed her mind to wander, conjuring up the image of her best friend pounding the pompous little toad into the concrete for a moment before sighing.

“Kouga, what am I going to do? Everything is ready to go, but now I have to start from scratch. I’m going to be here all night.”

“Have you talked to Taisho directly?”

The thought of confronting the inuyoukai sent shivers down Kagome’s spine, and not all of them were from fear.

“No.”

“Why not? He probably has no idea how much prep is required for an event like this and just assumes you can change things at the drop of a hat. Go give him a piece of your mind!”

“Things like that never work out the way you want them to.”

“Says you. I’ve had quite a few fantasies about doing the same thing, and they all end in my favour.”

Kagome snorted. “Then you go do it. Feel free to tell him how much you enjoy the look of his ass in slacks too.”

Kouga let out a wistful sigh. “If only, Kags. Taisho’s nice to look at—really nice to look at—but I prefer the ‘easily flustered and possibly in denial’ ones. And don’t act like you’ve never imagined mussing up that perfect suit of his.” 

“I refuse to answer that on the grounds that you’ll pry all the details out of me, and I have a lot of work to do.” 

“Spoilsport. Guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of my night hoping he’s got a brother.” Kouga was cocky at the best of times, but he loved being able to turn men into goo with a few poignant phrases. 

Especially when they were just as cocky as him to begin with.

“Seriously though, just go talk to him. Tell him the menu is final and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Even if I never cater anything this big again?”

Her friend groaned. “There will be other events, Kags. Do not spend all night there prepping an entirely different menu.”

“If you say so.”

Another groan.

Kagome sighed, pulling her braid loose and running her fingers through the dark waves. She’d redo it once she started baking again. She needed to do some rough sketches first. If she got started now, she could get most of it done before the decorators showed up.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Kouga. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“You know I’m always here for you. At least with this job done, I’ll get to stare at your lovely face in my restaurant again.”

Real laughter bubbled out of her mouth, and she quickly said goodbye, thanking him again. Then she grabbed her tablet and began planning. 

She’d show Taisho that Kagome Higurashi was a force to be reckoned with.

 * * * * * * * * * * * 

“You are still here?”

Kagome shrieked, jumping a foot in the air before spinning around, managing to keep the bowl in her hands from falling to the ground. 

“You startled me!”

A slim eyebrow raised before he looked around the kitchen and Kagome flushed. It was currently a disaster—there were ingredients and random bowls all over the counters. She kept trying to mix things while planning out the complimentary flavours simultaneously, and her rushed multitasking hadn’t allowed for much organization.

“I had thought you were more efficient than this.”

Her mouth dropped open before her eyes slowly narrowed at him. “I was almost done, but then it wasn’t what you wanted, so now I’m having to redo everything.” Setting the bowl down, she wiped her hands on her apron then went to pull another tray out of the oven.

“Don’t worry; it’ll still get done in time,” she ground out, teeth gnashing together.

She assumed that would be enough to placate him, and she continued to move between her mixing bowls and the oven, but when she turned to grab her tablet once more, he was still standing in the doorway, confusion pinching his features.

“What?” she snapped, her body already taught with fatigue.

“Why are you changing the menu? There was nothing wrong with it.”

Kagome’s steps faltered, the edges of her mouth pulling down. Taisho placed his briefcase on the floor, then strode into the kitchen, looking over her current workstation.

“This level of care is unnecessary. I thought we agreed on the more festive options.”

“We did! And it was ready hours ago, but then your assistant came in and said—”

His eyes narrowed, and Kagome couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been a warrior at some point in his life. His expression was fierce and deadly, a sharp contrast to the crisp suit he was wearing.

“Jaken is the cause of your workload?”

“Well—” She looked around, biting her lip. “Yeah. He said you’d changed your mind and wanted something fancier, so I’ve been trying to—” The air turned cold as dark youki filtered around their feet. 

Kagome instantly reacted, reiki shooting from her fingers against the weight of his oppressive aura. He jerked in response, the crimson in his eyes receding as he gave her a startled look.

“You are a miko.” 

Nodding once, she braced herself, expecting more than just getting fired. Spiritual power ran in her family—her mother ran a local shrine—but it wasn’t something she advertised. Things between humans and youkai were tenuous at best, and she didn’t want to give them any reason not to hire her.

“Look, my powers have nothing to do with my ability to do my job.” She grabbed a bowl, continuing to whisk a glaze so it didn’t solidify. “I’ll get everything done; I just need to—”

“I apologize.”

“It’s a little late for that. You should’ve told me when I showed you the first draft that you didn’t like it. It’s not going to be as good as it could’ve been if I’d had more time.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m billing you for all the extra ingredients. You’re the one who—”

“Any extra expenses will be deducted out of Jaken’s pay,” he growled. “He has overstepped and will be reprimanded accordingly.”

Blue eyes blinked in confusion, her hand stilling in her task. He seemed to be blaming his assistant a lot. It was almost as if—

“You didn’t change your mind?”

A single shake of his had strands of silver hair falling over his shoulders. “I would not expect you to make so many changes at this late hour.”

A wave of fatigue washed over her, making her sway. The bowl was lifted from her hands as Taisho forced her to sit down on the stool.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

“I-I—” Kagome looked around the kitchen, struggling to remember. “Before I started the new prep. I think. I get into a zone when I’m baking and lose track of things.”

Taisho watched her for a moment before walking briskly out the main doors. The sight of his briefcase on the floor stopped any outburst about his sudden departure. 

Taking in a deep breath, she pulled her hair from its braid, letting the dark waves cascade around her shoulders and lessening the strain around her temples. The stress of having to come up with an entirely new menu was gone, but she still had to finish the original one. 

Checking her watch, she winced. It was almost midnight, and the event started at noon. She wasn’t sure if she’d even be able to complete her original plans on time. 

Maybe she could salvage some of the ingredients she’d been in the middle of using. 

The tapping of shoes across the tiled floor signalled Taisho’s return, and she looked up, her lips pulling back into a gentle smile. 

He placed a bowl of ramen down in front of her, fragrant steam rising from the noodles. 

“Eat.”

Even if she’d wanted to say no, her stomach took that moment to grumble loudly, and she flushed, thanking him softly before digging into the meal. 

Kagome managed three large bites before she felt his eyes on her again. Forcing herself to swallow, she looked up, her body stilling at the intensity of his gaze. 

The butterflies in her stomach had nothing to do with the food. 

Clearing her throat, she motioned to the mess currently occupying the main prep table. 

“Once I clean that up, I can get back to the original menu. I might have to change a few things with all the time I wasted, but—”

“I will clean. You will eat.”

Kagome was glad she’d managed to swallow because she would’ve spat it out at his command. Or at least choked on it. 

“What?”

Taisho removed his suit jacket, hanging it beside her coat before unbuttoning his cuffs. “You have been working nonstop since this afternoon. You may dictate your instructions, but you will rest. And eat.”

She watched in wonder as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing magenta stripes around his wrists, then pulled his long silver hair into a ponytail at the base of his neck. The hairstyle somehow made him less intimidating, and Kagome couldn’t help but wonder what else he did with his hair on his days off.

Digging into her ramen once more, she let the delectable soup warm her from the inside, the flavours mixing together in delicious harmony on her tongue. After a few bites, her hand stilled and she looked up at Taisho, the meaning of his words suddenly registering in her brain.

How did he know how long I’ve been working?

 * * * * * * * * * * 

He was going to murder his assistant.

And he would enjoy doing it.

Suppressing a growl, Sesshoumaru busied himself with clearing off the multiple counters Higurashi had been using. He’d made a point of checking in on her from time to time—mostly without her knowledge and under the guise of inspecting her work—but he’d stopped lying to himself as to the real reason after the third time he’d done it.

She fascinated him.

He was so used to the daily routine of his corporate life that he’d forgotten some people actually enjoyed their jobs. The hue of her eyes sparkled with every roll of her dough and skim of her spatula, and Sesshoumaru had been helpless under its pull.

Until now. 

He’d assumed the kitchen to be empty—that she’d finished for the night and had already left. Instead, he’d been greeted with ashen skin, a pinched expression, and the pungent smell of champagne mixed with sugar. 

And no spark left in her eyes.

He’d wanted to rip someone’s throat out. 

Placing her used cooking utensils into the industrial dishwasher, he started to wipe down the counters, clearing them of the caramelized sugar and hardened chocolate. He wasn’t sure which items would still be needed but erred on the side of caution and washed everything. 

He paused to steal a glance at Higurashi, not letting his gaze linger for more than a moment. A testament to his control. Things had been manageable—tolerable—until he’d returned with her food. The raven locks she kept in severe hairstyles had been released, and it took all Sesshoumaru’s resolve not to bury his face in them as he set her bowl down. 

The fantasies that had been plaguing him since their first meeting were nothing compared to the real thing. 

The buns and braids had been deceptive, the tips reaching well past her shoulder blades. And instead of the usual pin-straight strands, soft waves hung around her face, bouncing over her shoulders every time she moved.

“Thank you.”

Sesshoumaru jerked, realizing he hadn’t stopped himself from staring.

She’d finished her food and was now gifting him with another smile. Blood began to flow south, and he dug his claws into his palms, trying to distract himself from other places he wanted her to smile at him from.

Namely his bed.

“You are welcome. What is the next thing you require?”

She shook her head, sliding off the stool as she adjusted her apron. “I think I can handle it from here. I’m sure if I—”

“Are you confident you will finish in time for the event?”

Uncertainty crept into her eyes as she looked at the various trays. “No,” she answered honestly.

“Then I will continue to assist you.”

“But—”

“Though indirectly, the blame for your current predicament lies with me. Tell me what you require.”

Her expression turned grateful, and then it was all business; she quickly assessed what could be salvaged and what needed to be remade. He was a fast learner, and they soon fell into an efficient routine with him doing most of the mixing while she focused on the finishing touches.

It wasn’t long before the crisis appeared to have been averted—though even if it hadn’t, Sesshoumaru would have called it a night, as Higurashi’s feet had begun to drag once more.

“Will this suffice for tomorrow?” He checked his watch and sighed. “Today?”

She counted the trays of completed confections and nodded. “I think we covered everything. There’s that last batch of cookies that doesn’t have any icing, but by the time the stores open, it’ll be too late.”

“I can always—”

Higurashi held up a hand, cutting him off. “You’ve done enough, really.”

She was smiling at him again, and Sesshomaru felt the edges of his mouth twitch in response. Higurashi was utterly dishevelled. Her apron was stained, hair barely contained in a messy bun, with multiple curls having escaped around her ears.

Sesshoumaru had never seen a more lovely sight.

Then she was pulling out her phone and typing in numbers. “Where’s the best place for a cab to pick me up? I’ve got enough time to run home and grab a quick shower before—”

“I will have a room made up for you. The hotel is far from full tonight.”

“That’s sweet but not necessary. It’s a bit of a drive, but I don’t mind. Plus, I need to grab a few things from my place anyway.”

“Provide a list of the items and your address, and I will have them sent up to your room.”

She gaped at him. “But why? You don’t even know me!”

Sesshoumaru reached out, the urge too great to resist this time, and wrapped one of her dark waves around his fingers. “Perhaps it is because I wish to know you better.”

If possible, her mouth opened even further, then snapped shut as a delightful blush darkened her cheeks. He thumbed the lock of hair, prospects brightening when she didn’t immediately pull away. 

Something shifted in her eyes, and she bit her lip. “Are you going to ask to join me?”

He froze, his heart speeding up as he stared down at her. “Are you asking me to?”

“I may not say no if you did.”

Blood roared between his ears, the question on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it, exhaustion written clearly on her face.

“Tempting. Exceedingly so, but it is late, and you require actual rest.”

Her lips pursed into a pout, but she nodded, wiping her hands off on her apron before she flashed him a seductive smile. “Will you ask me again when the event is over? Or when we’re both not covered in frosting, at least?”

The heated promise in her eyes proved to be too much, and he grabbed the front of her apron, snaking an arm around her waist as his lips claimed hers.

She tasted of spiced honey, and Sesshoumaru found himself quickly addicted—especially when slender hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer.

As heads slanted and tongues tangled, Sesshoumaru felt his fatigue melt away, every nerve screaming out, begging for more of the alluring creature in his arms. He happily obliged, burying one hand in her hair as the other pulled her hips flush with his own.

The hotel was still open—anyone could walk in on them—but the thoughts of a scandal were lost on him. All he could smell was her. All he could feel was her.

All he wanted was more.

A soft moan signalled she felt the same, and his grip on her hair tightened, forcing her head back as he plundered her mouth. Higurashi arched against him, and Sesshoumaru tried to remember why he’d initially denied her request.

Sirens blared outside, startling them both, and they jumped apart. Realizing that the interruption wasn’t anywhere nearby, they both looked at each other, Higurashi laughing as Sesshoumaru ran a hand through his bangs.

“This is not the time or place for this.”

She giggled again but nodded her head. “You started it.”

Sesshoumaru attempted to scowl at her but soon found his lips quirking upwards. 

She wasn’t a miko; she was a witch.

Or a siren.

Higurashi attempted to fix the lapels of his collar, smiling softly to herself. “In the slight chance I forget this conversation happened and try to chalk it up to sleep-deprived delirium, kiss me again, okay? It’ll definitely jog my memory.”

He snagged one of her hands and brushed a kiss across her fingers. “As you wish.”

The resulting smile and blush almost broke his resolve, but Sesshoumaru managed to pull away—out of her reach and out of the spell she’d cast on him.

“Gather your things. I will speak to the front desk.”

“Are you sure—”

This time he did scowl at her, and her mouth snapped shut, mirth dancing in her eyes as she put her hands up in defeat. Smirking, Sesshoumaru grabbed his jacket and briefcase and exited the kitchen.

He would kick someone out of their room himself if it meant Higurashi was able to sleep for a few hours.

 * * * * * * * * * * 

Sometime during her rush to get ready, Kagome had a brainstorm, suddenly knowing exactly what to do with the leftover cookies. 

She hurried through the rest of her routine, blushing as she ran her fingers through her abnormally loose hair. Pulling her hair back was a requirement when it came to baking, so it had become a habit during her downtime as well. But the memory of Taisho—Sesshoumaru—dropping her off at her hotel room gave her the courage to leave her hair in its natural state.

Even after he’d offered to help, Kagome hadn’t been confident that everything would be finished in time. As it was, she’d managed to grab almost four hours of sleep before the phone next to her bed had rung with her scheduled wake-up call. 

All in all, she was pretty proud of herself. Her first significant catering gig and she’d not only made most of the desserts herself, but she’d also created a few new recipes on the fly that would come in handy for her next event. 

She’d also made out with her boss. 

Was he actually her boss, though? He’d hired her, sure, but it was one contract, and by the end of the day, he wouldn’t be her boss anymore. 

Kouga was going to have a field day, regardless.  

Casting one last look in the mirror and proclaiming herself presentable in her crimson blouse and black pencil skirt—while ignoring how her mind wondered if a certain inuyoukai would like it—she grabbed her overnight bag and headed down to the lobby. 

She threw on her apron before grabbing the cart of fully stocked treats, it only taking her three trips to get everything into the banquet hall. A selection of tables had been set up, and Kagome quickly arranged the first round of desserts, making sure they were easily accessible.

There was a large Christmas tree in one corner, its lights already twinkling, a swarm of brightly coloured gifts surrounding its base. Kagome’s lips twitched at the thought of them being opened, small hands ripping open the paper, then became a full-blown smile as she finished arranging the cookie-decorating station on the final table.

Small plates of icing, sprinkles, gummies, and bits of chocolate sat on one side of the table, sugar cookies in various holiday-related shapes on the other. There hadn’t been enough to complete another full set of cookies, but it would go a long way with the clientele.

When Sesshoumaru—she was not blushing every time she thought of him—had first revealed that she’d be catering for a group of young children, Kagome had offered to do the job for free. Especially when she’d learned they were from struggling families. The stoic youkai had tried to play it off as a publicity stunt, but the way he’d been invested in the process from the start had given him away.

Her heart had skipped more than once during that meeting.

She finished unloading the carts and was about to start wheeling them back to the kitchen when she heard a squeal of excitement from the main doors. Startled, she almost dropped the tray she was holding, only for a clawed hand to grab the other side.

“Are you always this jumpy in the morning?”

She flashed Sesshoumaru a smile, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Only when I’ve been kept up late by attractive men.”

Her words had the desired effect, his golden eyes darkening as he leaned in, his hands covering hers on the edges of the tray.

“I can assure you, if I had been the cause of your late night, you would not be standing right now.”

Kagome’s breath hitched in her throat, her voice barely above a whisper as she licked her lips. “Promise?”

Any answer he had planned was interrupted by a petite brunette barreling into him, pulling at his dark vest.

“Can I open my present now?”

The heat in his eyes was replaced with such tenderness that Kagome’s chest felt tight.

“No, Rin. You must wait for the others.”

The girl pouted, then peeked up at Kagome. “Can I at least have one of her treats? They’re so much prettier than the pictures you showed me!”

Kagome swore she saw Sesshoumaru blush, and she covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“You may have one. But do not tell your mother.”

Rin clapped with glee, then went to inspect all the tables, finally deciding on a lemon tart. Humming in delight after her first bite, she flittered around the room, barely able to contain her joy. 

A soft tug on her hair had Kagome turning around, Sesshoumaru rolling a dark strand around his finger.

“You kept it down.”

“You asked me to.”

The intensity of his stare had the back of her ears turning red, and she stepped back, mindful of their present company. Running her fingers through her hair—and ignoring the way his eyes followed her hand—she motioned to the treat-filled tables.

“Not too bad, considering last night’s disaster, hey?”

Sesshoumaru nodded. “The children will be pleased. Their families as well.”

“I’m glad. And look, I’m sorry for yelling at you. You approved all my plans initially, so when your assistant said you’d changed your mind—”

“I assure you, it will not happen again.”

She smiled at the venom in his voice, then returned to her trays. “I should get these back to the kitchen before everyone shows up.”

“Indeed.”

Grabbing the trolly, she wheeled it towards the door, then turned back. “Thank you again. For helping. I wouldn’t have been able to—”

“You have thanked me enough.”

Blushing again, she bit her lip. “I know, but these kids are looking forward to it and if you hadn’t—”

“Oi! You done in here yet? Your mom’s wondering when she can start lettin’ the guests in.”

Kagome turned around and barely managed to stop her mouth from falling open. A shorter, gruffer version of Sesshoumaru had walked into the banquet hall, pulling at the collar of his burgundy dress shirt as the silver dog ears on the top of his head twitched in agitation.

Sesshoumaru’s jaw clenched, and Kagome got the feeling this person—undoubtedly related to him—had interrupted on purpose. All thoughts of telling him off flew out of her mind, however, when Rin came running up to them both and flung herself into the younger man’s arms.

“Big brother!”

“Heya runt. You behavin’ yourself?”

“Uh huh! Sesshoumaru let me have a treat!”

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek as Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes at the traitorous child. 

“You swore to secrecy.”

“You said I couldn’t tell Mama.”

Sesshoumaru’s lips pursed at Rin’s discovery of such an apparent loophole, and Kagome couldn’t contain her laughter.

The other man started as if suddenly realizing she was there, then picked up Rin, his eyes never leaving Kagome.

“I thought this was a business thing. Why’re you allowed to bring your girlfriend?”

Kagome turned as red as her blouse.

“I-I’m not—we’re not—”

“She is the caterer.”

Rin tugged on her brother’s hair. “Be nice!” She then leaned in and whispered loudly enough for them all to hear. “Her desserts are really tasty.”

He gave Kagome a considering look, then turned to Sesshoumaru. “Kagura’s gonna be pissed you’re givin’ Rin sugar. Again.”

A faint blush touched Sesshoumaru’s cheekbones but quickly disappeared. “You may remind our dear stepmother that the whole point of this event is to provide children with festive treats.”

“Keh, it’s your funeral.”

Kagome grabbed one of the extra cookies off her tray and held it out to him. “You’re probably just jealous that Rin got one instead of you.”

The man instantly bristled, his blush a lot darker than Sesshoumaru’s. He stuttered as he tried to respond, but Rin just grabbed the cookie and shoved it in his mouth, effectively silencing him. Biting off a chunk, the man opened his mouth to blast the small girl, but his eyes widened, and he looked down at the cookie instead, chewing slowly.

“Damn. No wonder you hired her.”

Rin giggled. “I told you!”

Sesshoumaru smirked before checking his watch. “Inuyasha, inform Mother that guests may enter in fifteen minutes.”

Inuyasha nodded, then snuck another bite of the cookie as he turned around, carrying Rin with him as he left the hall.

Blue eyes danced with glee as she looked at Sesshoumaru. “Is he always that obvious?”

“Unfortunately. It is a trait he picked up from our father.”

“But not your mother?” She winced, waving her hands in front of her. “Sorry, I’m not trying to pry, it’s just that you’re a full youkai and he’s clearly a hanyou, but you look so much alike and—”

Sesshoumaru held up a hand. “It is fine. The scandal of my father’s affair is public knowledge.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged a single shoulder.

“How does Rin fit in?” 

“Are you normally this nosy?” 

Kagome would’ve been embarrassed, but his expression was filled with amusement as opposed to anger, and she found the courage to give him an enticing smile.

“Only with people I’m really interested in.”

A pale eyebrow rose before he placed a hand on the trolly behind her, boxing her in. “Is that so?”

“Uh huh. And I’m really interested in you, so I’m going to be fishing for info for a while.”

Golden eyes darkened before they slid to her lips, and Kagome felt her breath catch.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

His lips curved up into a smirk, his eyes not leaving her mouth. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Do I? Perhaps you should enlighten me.”

Swallowing thickly, she kept her hands behind her back, not trusting herself to touch him. “I would, but I’ve only got twelve minutes before people start showing up and I still need to set up the rest of the tables.”

He let out a resigned sigh, then stepped back. “You seem to be as skilled as Rin when it comes to getting out of trouble.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Sesshoumaru chuckled. “It was meant to be one.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card. “To answer your earlier question, Rin is the adopted daughter of my mother’s current mate. They have been together long enough for Rin to consider myself and Inuyasha her brothers.”

Kagome’s gaze flickered towards the main doors. “You two seem to care about her a lot.”

“Indeed. But do not tell her that, as she will find a way of using it against us.”

She snorted. “Like she doesn’t do that already.”

Chuckling again, Sesshoumaru handed over the card, Kagome’s brow furrowing in confusion.

“What’s this for? Your mother already gave me your card when we first met.” As soon as her fingers closed around the card, Sesshoumaru did the same to her hand and pulled her close, stealing a kiss.

Kagome resisted for all of a millisecond, then melted against him, his tongue quickly slipping into her mouth. Every time she tasted him was like the first time, and she hummed in delight. It ended much too quickly, and she pouted, still holding the card between them.

“Indeed she did, but this one has my personal phone number on it.”

She blinked, then turned the card over, her feet tingling with excitement at the sight of the handwritten digits on the back.

“Be sure to call me when you have finished your duties.” He grabbed a lock of hair, letting it curl around his finger before bringing it to his lips.

Resisting the urge to kiss him again, she tucked the card into the pocket of her skirt. “I’ll definitely be doing that.”

Sesshoumaru gave her a curt nod, then rechecked his watch. “Nine minutes now.” 

The anticipation for the event was second only to the anticipation of seeing him outside of the work environment, and Kagome almost skipped back to the kitchen.