Disclaimer: Inuyasha characters belong to
Rumiko Takahashi. Other characters are
property of Dark Star. Quotes used for
chapter titles belong to the speaker.
Any song lyrics used in this story do not belong to Dark Star. Quotes found from <quoteland.com> and
<quotationspage.com>.
^ V o w
N o t T o L o v e ^
December 2002
The roaring thunder of applause and high-pitched screaming
echoed onto the stage and out towards the cityscape, where many citizens were
pausing to catch the last few minutes of a concert. It was one of the biggest events in Tokyo every year. Sometimes, the turnout challenged that of
New Year’s. Speakers were set up
everywhere: along the sidewalks, on the sides of buildings, all over the stage,
and in trees. The preparation required
for such a humongous concert was almost ridiculous. Almost.
In the center of it all, there were fountains of water, of
light, of just about everything you could imagine. The stage was elaborately decorated with bolts of silver and gold
cloth swathed elegantly but stylishly across the background. Lights blinked without cease as the singing
began to fade out. Stray echoes floated
above the awestruck audience to blow into more distant cities. Dramatically, the lights all stopped and
came instantaneously back on to focus on the person center-stage, frozen in an
unnatural pose.
Then, they dimmed only a bit before spreading out to
spotlight other people as well, some female, some male, all wearing similar
outfits. It was the person up front and
center that wore unique garb, catching all the attention of onlookers. Moon-white hair cascaded down the person’s
shoulders and back, catching the light and reflecting it nicely. Alert golden eyes gazed out in the distance,
caught by the cameras and projected to a large screen behind the person. Pale skin was tinted a faint gray color by
the blue lights.
It almost seemed as if the whole group would never
move. They were so still. The audience’s praise quieted to a faint
murmur, and the man in front, the one with the long silvery hair and golden
eyes, snapped his head up suddenly. The
band in the back began to play, the soft lilt growing again. Fountains shot up more material, fire,
water, light, everything, and the dancers exploded into motion. The music began to crescendo, and then, the
loud bangs of drums collided with the singer’s equally loud voice. It was done.
More cheering and clapping was heard. The applause was deafening; some of the
crowd had actually fainted on the spot.
Nothing was better to see than one of Sesshoumaru’s performances. He always stunned the audience, the critics,
the listeners, the watchers, you name it.
He was at the top of the charts, number one, and still getting
better. Only twenty-five, he had already
been crowned the best in Japan, China, Korea, and fast-growing in the U.S. Sesshoumaru was amazing. His expressive singing attracted people of
all ages, and his looks attracted even more girls.
All the lights went out and then, five seconds later,
re-ignited with Sesshoumaru standing singly on stage. All the dancers disappeared as well as some of the band. Still more applause accompanied his
appearance. A single hand lifted in the
air, and the clapping droned out to silence.
He flashed a charming smile around to all that cared to watch.
“First of
all,” he started, smiling, “I would like to give my thanks to all those who
attended. It keeps me up at the top,
after all.”
A polite applause hummed.
“And now,”
he sang, “I have an announcement.”
The crowd was all-ears.
“To all
those who have the money, particularly my fellow celebrities, I extend an
offer. A bet,” he spoke clearly and
confidently. “One million U.S.
dollars,” he paused for effect. “I,
Sesshoumaru, vow not to fall in love before the age of thirty.”
A gasp made its way through the entire crowd. Five years without falling in love… It was a long time. Was it possible? One million U.S. dollars was a lot of money just to throw
away. Was he crazy?
“Contact
me,” he said with finality. “if you
would show any interest in the offer.
Thank you and good night.”
The lights immediately blinked out. Curtains obscured the stage from view, and
the audience proceeded to file out.
Excited giggles and muted whispers rippled through the parting
citizens. By the evening’s news,
everyone in Japan would hold knowledge of Sesshoumaru’s declaration. By the next morning, China and Taiwan would
be informed. And then, during the
course of noon, the news would spread to Korea. Once the evening of tomorrow dawned, most the whole world would
be anticipating the one to challenge Sesshoumaru. For a million dollars.
January 2003
“He that
can live alone resembles the brute beast in nothing, the sage in much, and God
in everything.”—Baltasar Gracian, The Art of Worldly Wisdom, 1647
Sesshoumaru stared into the waning evening light. The sun had chosen to hide behind the blanket of the clouds most of the day, and now, during its descent, it was deciding to grace Tokyo with what little warmth it could offer. The golden orb reflected on the shiny surfaces of skyscrapers and office buildings, setting everything into a surreal glowing landscape. His chin rested lightly on one hand while a pen twirled in the other. The lyrics to a new song lay invitingly before him, pleading for new words and slight revisions.
Already, there were a few red slashes and neat scripture
above the typed poem. It really wasn’t
in his character to actually be one of those big celebrities, someone who
entertained people with their voice and talents. In reality, he had planned to become something more reasonable
and a little less busy. A lawyer. He was extremely persuasive as well as
argumentative. He knew he could’ve made
it; he could have gone into law and become well known in the judicial system,
but his voice had ruined that particular ambition.
It had started back in high school, where, in a general music class, they had to sing out the school song. A wave of nostalgia came over him as he relived the moment in his head. He had stunned the teacher with his expressive voice, deep and also high. She had said he had a huge range of pitch, and that, with some voice lessons, he could be one of the best someday. Upon hearing this, his mother immediately called for the lessons, and indeed, he soared to the top. To this day, he still held a slight grudge towards the teacher. True, she was only trying to encourage him into something, but he did not like music.
He sighed. Not
like he had a choice, now. He was
famous in four countries; he had tons of cash, and everyone adored
him. On stage, at least. He wasn’t really a likeable person
off-stage. Those who were close to him
knew the man for his mood swings, stoical manner, and most of all,
arrogance. When he sang, it was all an
act for fame. He needed the money to
keep coming. After all, money was what
kept him alive.
Due to his basic lack of emotions, most of his songs were
written for him, while he edited the poems. He, himself, had not written one love song as of yet. Hell, he’d never even given a thought
to love. So, now, benefiting from his
lack of emotions, he made a bet.
Hopefully, someone would take up on the offer soon. Probably some half-wit imbecile or
someone who’s money to burn.
Whoever it was suited him fine.
As long as they had the right kind of money. It was a free million dollars.
Of course, with the kind of act he put on for audiences, most likely no
one believe he could do it.
Delicately, he massaged his temples. Sesshoumaru could feel the onset of a
headache coming on. He quickly stood
and sauntered to the window, gazing out of it with more purpose. Inside the cozy keep of his study, the
already subtle sunlight could barely filter through the thin silk
curtains. Mahogany paneling seemed to
glow slightly with the orange light.
The room was neat and orderly; shelves lined the walls with quote books,
rhyming dictionaries, and several other useful resources. His desk was of a dark oak; piled on top were
documents, agreements, song lyrics, and other things of various sorts. He gazed at the papers with contempt, as if
he could burn them with his glare. He
secretly longed for a different life, one not so filled with so many people. He had never been one to dwell on the
company of others.
A timid knock echoed through the
office. “Come in,” he said crisply,
letting the hands massaging his temples fall to his sides.
“Sesshoumaru-sama,”
a vertically challenged creature greeted, stooping to a low bow.
He studied
his agent for a moment, wondering to himself why he had hired such a misshapen
person to work for him. “What.”
The
creature closed the heavy door behind him and settled himself in one of the
many armchairs that littered the room.
“Does my lord think it was a good idea to pull that publicity stunt?” he
inquired, folding his hands nervously in the small lap.
His skin seemed to be tinted a strange shade of teal in
the light. The nose and mouth jutted
out slightly in a beak-like structure.
Almost just above his ‘beak’ rested large, bulbous eyes. He stared awestruck at his employer,
awaiting an answer. He could already
predict the response. Rarely could he
tell what his master was to say or do, but there was the scarce occasion that
he could, and usually, it didn’t help matters much. Right now, he was guessing for a cold stare and something along
the lines of, ‘Are you questioning my decisions, Jaken?’
Sesshoumaru
sent a steely glare in his direction.
“Jaken, are you questioning my ability to remain true to my word?”
Heh, it was close.
Haphazardly, the stunted man known as Jaken wracked his mind for
answers, for some way to make up for his supposed insolence. He was quite used to the treatment by now;
it was just the way Sesshoumaru-sama reacted to problems and created
solutions. Finally, he settled on one
apology; he had become quite adept at seemingly throwing himself at his
master’s feet.
“Forgive
this lowly agent,” he said quickly.
“But the one who accepts the bet will surely attempt to,” he scrambled
for the right word, “entice you into a relationship. It is best to be wary, Sesshoumaru-sama.”
He stared,
bored. “I am aware of that, Jaken.”
The servant
nodded vigorously. “Of course,
Sesshoumaru-sama, of course.”
Jaken sent one more glance back to his master and excused
himself. The door softly clicked into
place, and once outside, he sighed.
Somehow, he didn’t think Sesshoumaru-sama would make it through this
one. Five years without love was a long
time to go, despite his master’s unemotional character. As he passed the secretary’s desk, Jaken
noticed her listening attentively to the television turned on in another
room. It was blaring Sesshoumaru’s
declaration. His lips twitched in
disgust as he barked out an order for her to keep working, that there were
things to be done. She sent a defiant
glare back at him through her pale face and then resumed her work with shaky
hands. Was there something wrong
with her? He wondered briefly. The
ring of his cell phone brought him back to reality, and he answered with a
practiced sense of business.
“Kinashita
Sesshoumaru. Agent speaking,” he
clipped professionally.
“Hattori!”
the voice on the other end squealed.
“It’s your good friend!”
“This
Hattori Jaken does not know you,” Jaken said quickly, hanging up.
The phone instantaneously rang again. He sighed.
Business was beginning to pick up again today. Finally!
~*~*~*~*~
Naraku Morimoto strolled by the windows, focusing half of
his attention on the Chicago landscape and the other half on the actions of his
employees. Many were on their lunch
break and were gathered in small crowds holding their coffee, chattering
aimlessly about the latest news and gossip.
One particular crowd of women caught his attention. They were exchanging small tidbits of
information, giggling like schoolgirls every once in a while. Exclamations of ‘Oh, I know~!’ and ‘You’re kidding!’
were heard frequently. But that wasn’t
what most caught his interest. One girl
in particular was among the assembly.
She stood tall and confident, not anything like someone who had just
come in from Japan. She was in a
totally foreign city that advanced at an extremely quick pace, and yet, she had
adjusted perfectly.
Normally, he would not have so much background information
on one specific employee, or rather, he wouldn’t bother to actually know
it, but this woman, Kikyo Kimura, attracted him. It was very strange.
There was no one else he had ever wanted, ever was remotely interested
in. Very, very strange. His dark reddish eyes dwelled on her for a
moment before his ears even faintly registered their conversation.
“Did you
hear the news?” one of the women bubbled excitedly. Her face was positively aglow with anticipation. “That hot star, Sesshoumaru, he’s made a
bet!”
“A bet?”
Kikyo inquired. “What kind of
bet?” She languidly took a sip of the
tip of the steaming beverage she held.
“Do you
live under a rock?!” another woman hissed. “He’s sworn not to fall in love for FIVE years!”
“Oh,” was
her reply. She hardly looked
interested. “How old is he?”
“TWENTY-FIVE!”
all the crowd retorted. “Don’t you know
about him?” a girl named Sandra exclaimed.
“Who couldn’t know Sesshoumaru?!
It’s impossible!”
Kikyo
ignored Sandra’s comment. “How much did
he bet?”
“A million
dollars!” Leslie squealed.
Kikyo’s
eyebrows flicked upward. “A
million. With who?”
The whole group paused.
No one wanted to answer for fear of being the only one who didn’t
know. Of course, it was the truth; no
one had taken him up on the bet, yet.
But they would! They really
would! There was an uncomfortable
silence. Finally, Sandra, one of the
more sensible of their gossipy crowd, spoke out.
“No one’s
taken him up on it, yet. But they
will,” she added quickly.
“Huh,”
Kikyo mused.
She felt Naraku’s gaze on her. Casting her employer the sidelong glance she was so well known
for, she bid her colleagues farewell, sent another glance to him, and then
returned to her paperwork. Her look had
said it all. ‘Aren’t you going to take
up on his offer? You should.’ It was a challenge, one of her inane
challenges he had to take in order to prove himself to her. As if it wasn’t enough that he was CEO of a
top company, B.U.R.N. Enterprises, and that he was considered to be one of the
most eligible bachelors as well as the richest in the entire United States, she
still challenged him. Was he good
enough for her? She was aware of his
strange attraction towards her, and it drove him insane. When she glanced at him once more, he gave
the slightest incline of his head before returning to his main office.
Of course, he was well aware of what bet they spoke
of. His position guaranteed that to
him. Everybody who was anybody knew
every other rich person in the world.
It was funny. He had met most of
the foreign celebrities, most particularly the pop stars. They seemed to be the most well known and
most popular of all the famous. After
all, they attracted the teen population, so they held much power. A single call brought him his devoted
secretary.
“Tanaka,”
he commanded. “Kinashita Sesshoumaru.”
“Hai,
Morimoto-sama,” the girl replied. She
still hadn’t lost the Japanese customs she had grown up with.
There was
the temporary click of keys before she answered again. “On your phone. Anything else, Morimoto-sama?”
“No, that
will be all, Kagura.”
Naraku gave a few spare thoughts
as to what he was going to do to the young star before picking up his phone and
adeptly dialing the numbers. There was
only one ring, no, make that half a ring, before a rough voice croaked out,
“Kinashita Sesshoumaru. Agent
speaking.”
“Connect me
directly to Mr. Kinashita,” he clipped roughly. “I’d like to take him up on the bet.”
“Hold on,”
the voice grated out.
There was the scuffle of the phone being covered before
muffled voices and the click of a receiver sounded with the soft swish of hair.
“Someone
finally decided to seal the bet,” the low voice greeted good-humoredly. “May I”
“Cut the
formalities, and drop the act, Sesshoumaru,” he answered coldly. “I know more about you than any of your fans
ever cared to find out.”
Sesshoumaru
was a bit miffed. How could he have
found out? That could easily ruin his
reputation. “Name?” he demanded.
“Naraku. Morimoto Naraku. CEO of B.U.R.N. Enterprises.
A million dollars to spare, not that you’ll win,” he answered bluntly.
“Trustworthy?”
the low voice inquired.
“Not
usually.”
“Where will
the money be placed?”
“Your
choice.”
There was a
slight pause. “Keep it until it comes time
to pay, Morimoto. How will you measure
‘in love’?”
“I have yet
to figure that,” Naraku mused. “That’s
your honor speaking.”
“Done
deal. I trust you will not betray your
word?”
“As you
keep yours.”
“Watch me
closely; I might lie,” Sesshoumaru said blandly. He hung up.
Naraku nodded to himself in satisfaction. A sigh was in effect. Kikyo, I question when I will cease
accepting your inane challenges. He
attempted to ward away the oncoming headache.
He shouldn’t have taken her from Japan.
~*~*~*~*~
Sesshoumaru sat in contemplation for a moment, pondering whether or not this Morimoto Naraku would remain true to his word. The man had not sounded so committed on the phone. Rather, it seemed like he was playing, like this was something he did in his free time. From their phone conversation, Sesshoumaru could gather that this man was by no means ‘nice’ nor respectful. Right away, he had shot down his fake charm. It made Sesshoumaru wonder what exactly this man knew about him. He had said he knew more about him than his fans had ever cared to find out, but how much was that? Was he talking about his family affairs? His personality? His connections? What was going on? The slow opening of the door alerted him back into reality.
“Is the bet
done then, Sesshoumaru-sama?” his agent asked, head lowered in a bow.
“Yes,
Jaken. Have my secretary find
information on Morimoto Naraku, CEO of B.U.R.N. Enterprises,” he commanded
softly.
“I’m afraid
I cannot do that, Sesshoumaru-sama,” another voice said from the door.
Sesshoumaru’s golden eyes roved from Jaken to the woman
leaning lightly against the entrance to the office, his secretary. He did not care ever to find out her name,
but it had never been necessary, anyways.
Jaken was the only one who talked to her, and then, that was only for
business matters. No one knew much
about the girl, but she had always done the required work quite nicely, and
that was all that mattered to him. Now,
she stood nervously in his study, eyes downcast. Her hands fiddled incessantly as she spoke.
“I quit,”
she voiced so quietly he almost missed it.
“Any
particular reason?” he inquired coaxingly.
“I
was…intercepting on your call,” she explained hurriedly, “And I’ve dealt
with…Morimoto’s company before.” She
paused. “We don’t have a very good
history together; I fear…” She broke
off.
“I
understand; you may go,” he said.
She nodded
and bowed deeply. “Thank you,
Kinashita-san.”
Then, the girl was gone before he could blink. This was going to cause some
problems. He wasn’t very much of
anything without a secretary, and Jaken had attempted the job before, but it
resulted in catastrophe. He was going
to have to get a new one very quickly.
To find someone else like her was not going to be easy. They would definitely have to be highly
qualified for the job as well as polite, trustworthy, and preferably silent.
“S-Sesshoumaru-sama!”
Jaken stuttered, “You are letting the girl go just like that?”
Despite
what many people thought, he did have a heart, just not a very forgiving
one. But if this girl was reluctant to
work for him, then so be it. Besides,
if he could find someone faster, it would be all for the better. “You are questioning my actions again,
Jaken.”
“Forgive
me, Sesshoumaru-sama!” the short man pleaded.
He paused. Who is this
Morimoto Naraku? “Is Morimoto
trustworthy?”
“That,”
Sesshoumaru replied, “remains to be seen.”
He swiftly picked up the phone and began to dial a number
he had, by now, known even in his sleep.
Jaken took the hint and left his employer to his work. Whenever Sesshoumaru picked up the phone, he
intended it to be a private conversation, for Sesshoumaru didn’t do many small
tasks by himself; he left it to Jaken.
And even more rarely did he ever make a call to anyone. Huffing indignantly for the secretary’s
short notice of leave, he stalked over to her neat desk and sat himself
down. For now, he would have to attend
to the wench’s jobs, and though he didn’t wish to, it was his duty. Flipping open the cell phone, there blinked
a message in the window. “17 Messages,”
it read. He listened through them one
by one as he pulled up the appointment book on the computer. Important calls were made, and new concerts
as well as various recording sessions were scheduled. He scribbled several notes on a pad while pulling out an
assortment of files. How does she do
it?! So much work!
Back in Sesshoumaru’s office, he waited patiently for the
call to go through and then sat as the phone rang. Pick up the damn phone, Takekawa. Finally, the ringing stopped, and he could
hear a faint pant of breath before a woman answered, supposedly his secretary.
“Takekawa
Miroku’s office,” she breathed.
“Kinashita,”
he answered harshly.
There was a
gasp and then the sound of the receiver being covered up followed by muffled
voices. The phone was handed over. “What business brings you to my door? In trouble?” a young voice greeted
congenially.
“Molesting
your secretaries is not part of the reason why you chose to study law, is it?”
he retorted.
There was a
embarrassed pause and then, “No, not at all.
What is it you need, Kinashita-san?” he interrogated.
“You have
many…friends, do you not?”
“…Yes…”
Miroku answered slowly.
“Do they
have any measure of intelligence?”
“Of
course!” was the indignant answer.
“Why?”
“I require
a new secretary,” Sesshoumaru sighed.
“She quit.”
“That has
nothing to do with legal matters,” Miroku reasoned, curiosity clear in his
voice.
“I have not
the time to find another. You seem to
be well-known; get me someone qualified,” he ordered.
Pushy,
pushy. He restrained the urge to
sigh. “I may know of someone,” he
finally replied. But you might not
like her…
“Good. Contact me,” he finalized. “And,” he added as an afterthought, “find
what you can about Morimoto Naraku, general information.”
“Sure,”
Miroku agreed. “I’ll get you a new
secretary in two days or less.”
“Then, it’s settled. Thank you,” he hung up abruptly. Being charming was definitely not his forte off-stage.
January 2003
“The
journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.”-Chinese Proverb
Upon hearing the click of the receiver on the other end,
Miroku released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Running a hand through his thick black hair,
he tilted his head to the bright ceiling lights. Imagine me, a twenty-five-year-old lawyer, already working for
one of the big guys in Japan. He
had to thank the Fates for his luck; not many would land a position so high
being fresh out of college. But he was
good; he was very good. Somehow,
Miroku found a way of persuading people so flawless that he had taken up
law. After all, what better way to be
persuasive than in a courtroom? He
chuckled inwardly; he was gifted with charm.
Carefully, he dusted off his suit, an entirely black
outfit with a metallic violet tie.
Papers and whatnot were shuffled into his briefcase, which was then
closed and picked up. Usually, it was
his secretary’s job to get his papers together and such, but it seemed that she
had scurried away sometime or other during the phone conversation. He sighed; she had such nice legs, too. Oh well.
I can always get a new one.
The lights were flicked off and the door locked, then he was on his way
down to his car.
A sleek black convertible was parked haphazardly before
him. Yup, it was his car. Miroku threw the heavy briefcase into the
back along with his jacket before slumping into the driver’s seat. He sat for a moment, wondering whether or
not he had forgotten anything. After
all, he was a lawyer, and at that, a very busy and popular one. Already at such a young age, and he was one
of the top twenty in Japan. Once he got
a little older, he was almost guaranteed a chance at being number
one. Smiling, he turned the ignition
and drove off into Tokyo’s busy streets.
His apartment, actually, wasn’t very far, but if he wanted
to walk through the crowds, it would take an hour to weave through the couple
blocks that separated his office and home.
Fortunately, he lived on the edges of Tokyo, so traffic wasn’t half
bad. The cost of living wasn’t so high,
either, as living in the center of the metropolis.
As he patiently waited for the light to turn green, Miroku
contemplated Sesshoumaru’s need for an assistant. His mind tended to wander to certain subjects of why the
secretary had quit, but obviously, Sesshoumaru would’ve taken part in none of
the inappropriate actions. He had a
friend whose friend needed a job.
Inuyasha had mentioned his best friend several times to him. How could he forget Inuyasha’s best
friend? He winced at the recollection
of their first meeting. Just the memory
of the entire event caused him to rub at his cheek, where she had forcefully
slapped him. With good reason, of
course. Maybe she wouldn’t be so
good for Sesshoumaru’s secretary…
The car behind him had started to honk madly. Looking up, Miroku found the light to have
already turned green. He stepped on the
gas immediately, sending the car rocketing through the semi-empty streets. Rounding the corner, he zoomed into the
garage and parked the car into the space reserved for ‘Takekawa Miroku.’
Sounds of a car door opening and closing numerous times
echoed through the garage, and then Miroku was on his way up to Apartment 4A,
pausing in the lobby of the building to check his mail. Of course, several letters were addressed to
him as well as a daily newspaper, which he tossed into the garbage bin in front
of the elevator.
“Damn ads,”
he muttered, entering the elevator.
He fished the familiar key from the pocket of his slacks
and pushed it through the thin hole.
There was a click and then the snap of unlocking before the lightly
colored door automatically came ajar. Ah,
the wonders of modern technology, he thought lightly, slamming the door
behind him. His ring of keys was tossed
onto a hook put up exactly for that purpose.
Jacket and briefcase were both thrown onto a couch as he pulled his tie
loose from the choking collar.
With a push of a button, the TV blared on, and he found
his way to the kitchen, hastily making himself some dinner. Once done, he lounged comfortably at a
coffee table in front of the television, listening idly to the news. There was nothing interesting, as usual,
except…
“Last
night, at his annual concert in Tokyo Square, Sesshoumaru, renowned singer,
made a deal to the world,” the newslady announced, shuffling the papers at her
desk, “He made a bet for one million U.S. dollars to not fall in love
until the age of thirty. The young
star, only twenty-five, has not made any further comment to the press on this
offer, but critics say it will pool much more attention to him. No one knows what Sesshoumaru’s true
intentions are. We now await someone to
‘seal the deal’ with him.”
Miroku gaped at the woman. He made a bet?! Not to
fall in love for FIVE years?! He
didn’t tell me! A grimace overtook
his features. That’s a lot of money,
Sesshoumaru-san. Are you sure you can
handle it? He pondered for a
moment. Is that why your
assistant quit?
“I can’t believe
he didn’t tell me,” Miroku mumbled moodily.
“There are legal matters to this stuff.”
Miroku sighed. Oh
well, big boy can handle himself, I guess.
He turned the television off and grabbed a phone nearby, having already
finished his dinner. His fingers
automatically dialed his friend’s number, hoping he would pick up. After all, I promised Sesshoumaru a
secretary. He glanced up at the
clock. It was late evening; Inuyasha should
be home.
“Oi,” a
rough voice answered, “Talk,” it commanded.
“You really
need to work on your social skills, my friend,” replied Miroku, grinning
amiably.
“What do
you want, Miroku?” Inuyasha demanded.
“You know
your friend Kagome?”
“What about
her?” he asked suspiciously.
“Is she
still single?”
“…”
“I was just
kidding!” Miroku cried indignantly.
“Just a joke!”
“Get to the
point.”
“Well,
she’s still looking for a job, right?” Miroku justified.
“I’m not
letting her work for you,” came Inuyasha’s response.
“Still
protective, I see,” he observed. “Well,
anyways, it’s not for me. It’s for one
of my clients.”
“Respectable?”
Inuyasha questioned.
“Quite,”
Miroku replied.
There was a
pause, then, “I’m seeing her tomorrow.
I’ll give her your number.”
“Home or
office?” Miroku inquired.
“OFFICE!” he
screeched.
Miroku held
the phone away from his ear. “Okay,
okay,” he yelled back into the receiver.
“Thanks!” he added offhandedly.
There was the loud slam of the receiver, and then the
disconnection ring. Miroku sighed. Hopefully, Inuyasha wouldn’t have to find
out about the employer being his half-brother.
If he had known, Inuyasha probably wouldn’t have let Kagome take his
offer. All for the better. Miroku sighed and rubbed his neck. It was definitely time for a shower.
~*~*~*~*~
After slamming down the phone, Inuyasha wondered whether
or not he would tell Kagome. Might
as well. Already told Miroku I would. He shrugged. If she had gotten a job already, he wouldn’t need to tell
her. He would ask her about it
tomorrow. They were going to meet in a
casual restaurant in a more rural part of town. For some reason, it had always been her favorite place to meet,
in that cozy restaurant away from lots of people, in a quiet district, with
friendly pedestrians. It must give her
a feeling of security. Of course, he
could understand somewhat. She had been
with her family for so much of her life, and now, fresh out of college, she was
wrenched away to scratch a living of her own in the metropolis of Tokyo.
In his contemplation, he had absently begun to shuffle
towards his room. When he glanced up,
he found himself staring at the large shelf of pictures across from the
window. Focusing the blurred golden
eyes, he felt a wave of nostalgia overcome him as he observed the two smiling
people in the picture. On the left, a
girl with full wavy black hair grinned at the camera with which the photo was
taken. Around her shoulders draped an
arm, that of the person on the right: him.
He had even managed a half-serious smirk for the picture. The golden eyes softened as his fingers
wistfully ran along the polished wood frame.
They had looked so happy together…he had been happy…why didn’t it
work out? It was still a question he
did not know the answer to, and he resented that greatly. A frown embedded itself in his smart
mouth. Why didn’t it work out,
Kagome? Frustration tainted his
aura, quickly swept away to guilt and remorse.
His head drooped low to his chest.
I thought…
Inuyasha shook himself from his reverie and withdrew his
fingers from the photos. What was done
was done. He still had Kagome, just not
in the way he had wanted. They still
spent much time together, and as long as he was with her, he could be content
with that. Rigid steps were taken to
the window across from him. Nightfall was
coming on. Only a faint glimmer of the
twinkling stars announced their presence with the glaring Tokyo city
lights. A glance at his wristwatch
informed him of the time: 9:00 PM.
Releasing a pent-up sigh, he fluidly closed the curtains and began stripping
off his garments. A shower would be
nice.
~*~*~*~*~
A voice blabbered in quick, fluent Japanese, casting the weather and news for the afternoon. Inuyasha buried his head in the pillow, attempting to drown out the annoying, overly-cheerful voice of the newsman. His hand groped around the bedside table for the ‘off’ button, successfully shutting the voice up after a couple seconds. A sleepy golden eye cracked open just enough to catch the glowing green numbers of the clock. 12:15 PM, it read. OI! He had to meet Kagome in fifteen minutes!
Inuyasha frantically scrambled out of the bed, only to
fall to the floor, his leg having been twisted in the sheets. An incoherent curse was muttered before he
hopped up and around, speedily dressing and sprinting out the door. Upon getting out of his apartment, he
realized he forgot his car key. Damn it
all! He quickly found the spare key and
let himself back into his home to snatch the key chain from the kitchen
counter. Again, he exited the apartment
and hastily locked it, rushing down to the elevator.
It didn’t look like it was going to come anytime soon, so
he abandoned the elevator and flew down the stairs in record time to the
underground garage. Tracking down his
car, he zoomed out of the concrete keep and through the streets. Numerous angry honks were directed toward
him, but he ignored them wholeheartedly.
Inuyasha ran his fingers through his silvery hair, undoing any tangles
and clumps that happened to stick out.
Before he knew it, the vehicle was parked, and he was being shown
through the maze of tables to Kagome.
He glanced down at his watch.
12:31 PM; he was still on time enough.
~*~*~*~*~
Kagome’s head was cocked to the side, gazing out the thin glass to the park which bordered the cozy restaurant. She always got here early; it gave her time to think. Somehow, the little eatery allowed her thoughts to flow more freely when she was in its presence. Red, yellow, and orange leaves floated to the ground in gentle showers, relieving themselves of their captivity on the branches of their trees. A few people strolled carelessly in the park, chatting with enthusiasm to passers-by. Kagome smiled, her fingers absently tracing the designs etched on the teacup in her hands. The smooth mug soothed her fingers, serving to remind her that this was a day off, that she didn’t have to worry today about school or anything of the like.
“You’re
late,” she murmured softly, turning to face the man recently seated across from
her.
He grumbled
an apology, and she smiled. “Don’t
worry about it.”
Earlier on, she had placed their orders, considering the
amount of time it took for them to be prepared. They always got the same thing anyways. She took a tentative sip of the fragrant tea before setting her gaze
onto Inuyasha.
“So, how
are you?” she asked congenially.
“Fine,
you?” was the chaste answer. Inuyasha
never had a way with words.
“Need you
ask?” she sighed dramatically.
Her idle fingers twiddled with the laminated dessert menu
perched between sugar packages and soy sauce.
Leave it to Inuyasha to rouse her stresses. She didn’t mind, really; it helped more often than not. He was an outlet for any stress she had been
suffering from. Silently, she wished
for her high school life once more, the carefree straight-A student with no
worries in the world. But she had grown
up now. A soft smile graced her lips.
“Still
looking for a job,” Kagome admitted, taking another sip of her tea, “Looks like
no one wants a girl fresh out of college.”
“You’re not
done yet, are you?” he inquired, also sipping the tea which had been poured for
him. “Aren’t you still going to grad
school?” he paused. “Or did you change
your mind…”
“I changed
my mind,” she answered, once again turning to observe the outside world.
There was a
moment of silence, of thought. “You
took secretarial courses, didn’t you?” Inuyasha asked, also turning to stare
out the window. From his peripheral
vision, he caught the slight incline of her head. He mentally sighed. Might
as well tell her. “You know my
friend Miroku?” he inquired conversationally.
“How could
I forget,” she replied in a monotone.
A memory relived itself in her mind. The man had been charming at first, smiling
beseechingly at her and kissing her hand.
Then, as the minutes wore on, and they all were chattering openly, he
had inched just a little too close, and of course, the result was a
stinging red handprint upon Miroku’s cheek.
Just the memory still irritated her.
His jaw was strong! Her
hand had hurt for a while after that occurrence. She winced. Anything to
do with him must not be very good.
However, she mused, he was a lawyer, and a good one at that. The blue-gray eyes turned to her best
friend, eyebrows lifted slightly skyward.
Inuyasha
recognized the quizzical look to her face.
He breathed deeply. “One of his
clients is looking for a secretary; he told me, and since you’re still looking
for a job,” he paused, “I thought you might consider it.”
Several emotions flickered through the blue-gray orbs. First, surprise, then consideration, and
last, uncertainty. It didn’t look like
she was convinced of the validity of this offer.
“He tells
me the client’s quite respectable,” he rushed.
“Who?”
“He didn’t
specify.”
“How am I
supposed to contact the employer, then?” Kagome asked curiously.
“I’ll give
you Miroku’s office number so you can ask,” Inuyasha answered.
Kagome promptly extracted an address book from her bag as
well as a ballpoint pen and handed them both to Inuyasha, who scribbled the
number onto the paper. Kagome flicked a
careful eye over the messy numbers before depositing both the pen and the book
into her purse. She gave an
appreciative smile to her best friend and then, the waiter appeared with their
orders, setting the meals down gently in front of them. For the most part, they ate in companionable
silence, Kagome contemplating the job offer, and Inuyasha longing for her
musical voice to sound.
~*~*~*~*~
Flicking the light switch to her apartment, a warm yellowish glow bathed the rooms and hallways. She unwrapped the scarf entwined around her neck and hung it on the decorative hooks protruding from the wall. Likewise was done with her jacket as she slipped off her boots. A chill was starting to grow in the air, and she shivered with the cold atmosphere in the apartment. The afternoon spent with Inuyasha had been pleasant. After a late lunch, they had gone to a movie, a walk, and then a café before they parted ways with a chaste, quick kiss. She tossed her keys to a bowl on a narrow table in the cramped entryway.
As Kagome strolled down to the living room, she drank in
her surroundings. The apartment had
been hers for quite a while, but she was starting to dislike its choking
walls. Of course, being new into the
world, straight from college, she couldn’t afford anything better. The walls were painted a pale mint green, a
color which she almost detested.
Underfoot, the soft carpet was tinted a creamy yellow, and the two mixes
of color, green and yellow, clashed horribly and made her feel
claustrophobic. Framed pictures hung
from the walls, offering a window to past occurrences. One that caught her eye, a favorite of hers,
showcased her family at her high school graduation. Friends and relatives crowded around her, set in the center in a
robe of white. She studied it for a
moment before sighing and chastising herself.
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, her mother had always
advised. God, she missed her family.
Sinking down into the couch, she turned on the TV and
allowed herself to unwind for a moment.
“Star
Sesshoumaru is said to have found a challenger for his bet, what many would
call a publicity stunt,” the newslady broadcasted. “A Japanese-American CEO, one of the richest in the United
States. As head of B.U.R.N.
Enterprises, this Morimoto Naraku just has a million dollars to throw around.”
Kagome flipped the channel. Sesshoumaru had been all over the news for a few days now. She sat back and reflected upon Inuyasha’s
brother she had heard so little, yet so much, about. Inuyasha had described the man vehemently as an arrogant bastard,
worth nothing more than his ego. Kagome
still had yet to hear their family history, as Inuyasha had refrained from
telling of it to her, but she imagined it was quite a sticky situation. Even as she ticked off the list of
obscenities her best friend had referred to his half-brother as, she couldn’t
imagine any of the attributes to be true.
The guy looked nice enough on TV, but who knows, no one really knew him
in his personal life. Oh well, not
like I’m gonna meet him anytime in my life. A glance back at the screen told her nothing was on, nothing
worth watching at least, so she turned the television off and sank into the
cozy sofa. What to do now?
A few seconds later, Kagome was settled onto her bed,
phone and address book in hand. Beside
her, the contents of her backpack-ish purse spilled out onto the soft
comforter. Placing the book down on the
bed, she skimmed through the pages for Miroku’s number. What’s his last name? She wondered
absently. Takenouchi? Takeshi?
Takeda? Her brow creased in
concentration. She couldn’t very well
call him “Miroku-san.” It would suggest
entirely too much friendliness in her opinion.
Hopefully, Inuyasha had taken the time to write it down. With a triumphant, “Aha!” she located the
barely legible scrawl of Inuyasha’s handwriting and quickly dialed the
number. While the phone rang, she
scanned the page for any sign of a surname.
Unfortunately, there was none to be found. With an exasperated sigh, she shook her head in dismay and just
waited anxiously for someone to pick up.
There was a
click and then, “Takekawa Miroku’s office.
Takekawa speaking,” a smooth voice greeted.
Thank
the Lord he knows how to answer the phone!
“Takekawa-san, Inuyasha referred me to you. It’s Higurashi Kagome,” she stated crisply.
“Ahh,” he
intoned, “Higurashi-san, nice to hear from you.” The voice sounded a bit pained, as if he was grimacing on the
other side of the line.
“Yes, I hear
of a job offer? Secretarial position?”
“Yes,
that’s right. Are you qualified?” he
inquired.
“Obviously,”
she shot before she could restrain herself.
“Sorry, yes I am qualified.”
“Type,
answer the phone, write shorthand?” he interrogated.
“Yes. Does the job pay well? Who’s the employer?”
Wow,
she’s really to the point. Sesshoumaru
will definitely like her. Miroku
smiled, even knowing the girl couldn’t see it.
“You’ll have to call him to find out.
I’ll give you his number.”
Moments afterward, Kagome dropped the phone back into its
cradle with a click and stared blankly at the number she had penned. That was strange… The lawyer’s actions were, indeed, a bit off
the hook. After all, why couldn’t he
tell her the employer’s name, but instead, have her call him? Be sure to tell him you’re calling for
Takekawa Miroku. He won’t take your
call, otherwise. The words rang in
her mind. What a strange, strange way
to get a job. She shrugged. It was still early enough to make the call
and not seem rude. Picking up the phone
again, she pressed the glowing buttons and held the receiver to her ear. The rings went up to six before a low,
melodious voice answered somewhat irritably.
She just about dropped the phone with the words uttered form the man’s
mouth.
“Kinashita
Sesshoumaru,” he intoned.
February 2003
“None of us know what the next
change is going to be, what unexpected opportunity is just around the corner,
waiting a few months or a few years to change all the tenor of our lives.” —Kathleen Norris, Hands Full of Living
There were many surprises, she could say, in life, but
this one topped them all. Someday, when
she would look back upon the event, it would be quite humorous, but for now,
Kagome was in shock. Her slender hand
clutched the phone with a death grip, knuckles turning a starch-white. The man’s words echoed in her mind
tauntingly. Kinashita Sesshoumaru… Maybe it was some other Sesshoumaru and not
the celebrity famed in several countries?
Maybe this was just a cruel joke?
No, her mind reasoned, Sesshoumaru is not a common name. There is only one Sesshoumaru… Kagome’s breathing was uneven. Miroku had given her the phone number of THE
Sesshoumaru? It was too hard to
believe.
Sesshoumaru could just barely discern the breath, which
came in quick pants on the other end of the line. Had he been a little more impulsive, he would have hung up on the
stranger, whoever he or she was.
Glancing down at the screen on the cradle, he found the person in
question to be someone by the name of Higurashi. He knew of no one by that particular name, and his memory was
quite impeccable. He would give the
person a couple more seconds before he disconnected him or her. When he was about to replace the receiver, a
hushed, inquisitive, and somewhat breathy voice responded.
“D-did you
just say Sesshoumaru?”
“Yes,” he
reverted to his charming public personality.
“May I ask to whom I am speaking?”
Kagome relaxed a bit. The man sounded nice enough. Perhaps, she got the wrong number? “Oh, w-well, someone gave me…this number for
a job offer…”
She sounds
extremely nervous, Sesshoumaru observed.
Someone with such an attitude would not be fit to follow him around from
concert to concert and tour to tour; she just wouldn’t seem to have that kind
of organized authority about her. “Who
gave it to you?” he inquired.
Kagome
choked on her own voice. Was this
really Sesshoumaru? Charming and
friendly? “I’m calling for Takekawa Miroku-san,”
was her answer.
So this
is the girl Takekawa got? He was
amused. Standing from his desk, he
strolled over to the large window, cordless receiver in hand. “I assume you are qualified for the
secretarial position?”
“I would
guess so.”
“Yes or
no?”
“Yes.”
Sesshoumaru
smiled into the phone. Let us see
how long she will last. “Your name,
please?”
“Higurashi
Kagome,” was the quiet response.
“Well,
Higurashi-san,” he murmured, “you will start now. I will send someone for you and your things. This position requires your constant
presence. All personal mail and phone
calls will be forwarded to this address.”
Kagome barely listened.
Now? He’ll send someone for
me? Constant presence? That was fast… Though the answer had been apparent the whole time, it
finally dawned on Kagome that this was the one and only Sesshoumaru…and
she was going to be his secretary… Oh
gods…
“I’ll be
expecting you here within the hour, Higurashi-san. Until then, sayonara.”
“Hai,
sayonara,” she returned, letting the phone drop from her hand to the soft
mattress.
Motionless, she sat for a while. The blue-gray orbs stared unseeing at her reflection depicted in
the mirror. Who’d have thought? It took a moment to register the fact
that she would be working for the Sesshoumaru, the one and only. …Inuyasha says he’s mean…in many
different terms. Would he be mean
to her? Does he treat his
secretaries badly? Is that why…he
needed to find another one? A
million other questions rose in her mind, but they fell to the wayside, giving
dominion to only one, ringing painfully in her mind. What will Inuyasha think?
Needless to say, he would be extremely upset to discover
his best friend to be working for his loathed half-brother. He would most definitely react in…a more
violent way, as he tended to do. She
shook her head in dismay while gathering her things on the mattress. How would she be able to explain it to him? Hopefully…he wouldn’t…take too badly to the
revelation…
You don’t have to tell him at all…
…Could she bear that?
He doesn’t have to know…
…Wouldn’t that be lying to him?
…
I won’t tell him, she decided with finality, dumping her
possessions back into her opened bag. I
don’t need to worry him with other problems. Kagome glanced around quickly and began to mentally list all her
‘belongings’. How in the world can I
get all my stuff together in a couple of hours? I am so screwed… The
task seemed fairly impossible, but being the optimist she was, Kagome would go
about trying to get everything ready in the cheeriest of dispositions. Determination etched in her features, she
clapped her hands together and took a deep breath, stalking into her closet.
~*~*~*~*~
Sesshoumaru replaced the receiver with a click, remaining
stationary for a moment before striding towards his window. Nearing late evening, the sky had taken on a
darker violent tint, faded by the glaring lights of Tokyo. He released an inward sigh of relief. Finding a secretary had lifted a small
fraction of the stress he endured off his shoulders; Jaken, though it had only
been a day, already proved himself a slovenly assistant. The celebrity made a mental note to himself
to never allow his agent to sit at the secretary’s desk again. Just this morning, Sesshoumaru had noted the
occurrence of three or four appointments at once. It only proved Jaken was in no position to schedule his many
events.
Raising an arm to the glass pane, he allowed his body to
rely on the window for support. The
golden eyes observed the cityscape through the thick, tinted glass. Perhaps he should go pick the girl up
himself? After all, there might be
questions from her that would only serve to take up his time if delayed until
she arrived. Yes, that would be the
solution. A half an hour would be
allotted to her in order for the girl to prepare her things. Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru permitted the
twilight of Tokyo to wash over him.
~*~*~*~*~
Half past seven and she was finished packing her
clothes. Thirty minutes more would
bring the arrival of escort to Sesshoumaru’s ‘humble abode.’ Stretching her arms and rising, Kagome
worked out the knots in her muscles after remaining still for the length of
time. Silence pervaded the air, leaving
her eerily spooked.
“I need
some music or something,” she mumbled to the still room.
A whining mew averted her gaze to her feet, where, curled
around her ankles, was her black and white cat Nekoro. Kagome’s face alighted with a smile as she
bent down to scratch the cat’s petite ears.
“How are
you, Nekoro?” she murmured.
Another mew answered her.
Rising again, Kagome made her way to the kitchen and poured a bowl of
food for her pet, whereupon the feline trotted to dine. With a sigh, she returned to her room; there
were only a few possessions left to pack.
Many of the things, she decided, could be donated or sold. After all, who would need them after moving
in with a superstar?
Carefully, Kagome sorted through the shelves upon shelves
of pictures littering her bedroom. Each
photo was placed meticulously in a medium-sized suitcase half-filled with her
wardrobe. Another suitcase lay on her
bed, closed and ready to be taken away.
Occasionally, Nekoro would return to check on his caretaker, offering an
encouraging paw where needed.
Once fifteen minutes had passed, all her memoirs were
stowed away in the case, and she was ready to go. Making her way back to the living room, she plopped down on the
couch and laid tranquilly.
The rapping at the door roused her from the short nap she
had obliviously taken. Slapping a hand
to her forehead, she reprimanded herself for drifting off to sleep. Hopefully, everything she would need was
ready to be taken away. And if it
wasn’t, then she would have a few problems with Sesshoumaru. What’s his last name again? She wondered idly. He never uses it in public…no one else knows it either…what a
way to live. Shrugging, she pushed
herself up and rushed to the door.
How he found her apartment was a mystery to her, but
obviously he had some sources. It
surprised Kagome even more that Sesshoumaru himself stood there, tall and
intimidating, waiting to be invited in.
In truth, she had expected an assistant of his to come for her, but
either way, she was fine with it.
“Um,” she
stammered, “Come in.”
Kagome gestured inside, the celebrity stepping into the narrow hallway and removing the sunglasses from his eyes. There was near no light out, but Kagome figured, being the important person he was, he didn’t want all that much attention at present. Breathing a deep sigh, Kagome followed him into her living room.
Stepping into his field of vision, she performed a graceful bow, greeting congenially, “Higurashi Kagome, nice to meet you.” She felt a bit foolish, but she knew full well, amenities were necessary.
“Kinashita Sesshoumaru, the pleasure’s all mine,” he responded automatically, returning a shallow bow.
He talks like a robot, Kagome observed, eyeing him furtively. His politeness seemed feigned, involuntary, and well practiced. She swore if she looked hard enough she could detect resentment in his exotic eyes. A smile parted her lips as she gazed up at him. He looked better in real life than he did on TV, at least.
“I’ll go get my things, and then I guess we’ll be off, ne?”
Slipping past him into her bedroom, she gathered her things: a medium-sized suitcase, a smaller one, and her purse. A final lingering gaze over the walls of her room and she was out. Upon returning to Sesshoumaru, she found her cat curling around his legs while he stared down at it, arms crossed. A blush crept across her cheeks as she scooped the feline up, having left the suitcases in the hallway.
“Gomen nasai, Kinashita-san,” she apologized, stroking Nekoro’s soft fur.
He made no response when he picked up her suitcases easily, and motioned her to exit the apartment before him. Kagome quickly complied, grabbing her coat and keys and leaving the residence. The star emerged right behind her and waited patiently as she locked the door. Scooping the cat up once more, they made their way to the elevator.
~*~*~*~*~
Kagome felt awkward sitting beside a celebrity in his car’s leather interior. He had made no attempt at conversation yet, and she was unsure if it was her job to or not. Sesshoumaru left the music off in the car, so for the most part, it was silent. Beams from streetlights would run over them every so often, since twilight had fallen and the sun gone to rest.
“Am I allowed to talk?” she asked good-humoredly. The calm of night had instilled a little bit of reassurance in her.
“By all means.”
She smiled. “Could you give the…parameters…of my employment? I can’t say I’ve ever worked for a celebrity before.”
The golden eyes roved askance to her and then settled back on the road. “As much would be assumed.” He paused. “You must understand one thing in this occupation with me.” Somehow, his tone had changed drastically from pleasurably charming to clipped and concise. “I am not what I appear to be on television or on stage. My manner is very different from what you may or may not have witnessed. I am neither charming, imaginative, nor compassionate. I tell you this only because I wish no surprise on your part in the future should you be exposed to what I consider my ‘true personality.’”
It was the most she’d heard come from his mouth when not singing, and this—this was a forewarning. Kagome nodded, almost dumbly. Was this what Inuyasha was referring to? It probably was, judging from the way this Sesshoumaru presented himself. He certainly sounded very self-confident, but would it go so far as arrogance?
“Where will I be staying, then?” she asked.
“In the west wing, where the rest of the employees are.”
“How will I be paid?”
“Your salary will be transferred directly to your bank account.”
Kagome paused. That was certainly handy, she mused. She contemplated a moment before inquiring, “What is it, exactly, that I will do for you, Kinashita-san?”
“First, you will never use the name ‘Kinashita’ in public,” he stated pointedly. “And you, Higurashi, will be scheduling various ordeals upon instructions from Hattori Jaken, my agent.”
The buildings were beginning to thin on one side, marks of civilization diminishing as well. Grass became more abundant, filling the majority of the space available on the straddling lots at the roadside. In the near-distance Kagome could barely make out the faint borders of a gate surrounding a formidable wall of brick, draped with flowering vines of chartreuse, ivory, and violet. As the car neared the structure, her breath caught in awe, fingers stilling in the caress of her feline friend, whom she had brought with her.
Many words could describe how it all appeared to her, but none could even graze capturing the entire essence of the awe she felt. Extravagant, lavish, elegant, stunning, awesome, spectacular, marvelous, prestigious; none of them bloomed with a complete description. She just…had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. Not once had Kagome even glimpsed the luxury of the modern-day patricians, and taking it in all at once overwhelmed her middle-class mind.
“Oh my gosh…” she murmured.
Sesshoumaru cast a quick sideward glance to her expression. A small twinge of smug satisfaction spited his mind. Obviously, the girl was well sheltered from the extremes of wealth. If this was her reaction to the simplistic entrance to the subdivision of celebrities, it would humor him to witness her admiration at stepping foot inside his residence. Not that he would actually laugh aloud, mind you.
He came to a rolling stop as black steel gates inhibited any further progress. A guard stepped crisply up to the car’s open window, flashing a reverent smile at both Sesshoumaru and Kagome before greeting, “Good evening, Sesshoumaru-san.” The celebrity responded with a polite nod and proceeded to hand him what looked like a credit card. It was completely white save for a dark magnetic stripe running along its back; this card was slid through a small contraption strapped to the guard’s wrist and returned to Sesshoumaru. Must be I.D., Kagome mused idly. They continued on their way.
Even driving up the road, Kagome felt a sense of wonder, much like that of a child paying his or her first visit to a candy store. So amazed are they that they stand motionless in the center of the sweet and brightly colored confections, gaping at the magnificence of it all. Automatically, she began to stroke her cat again, barely paying any mind to the texture of the soft, satiny fur running between her fingers. The road was paved with brick and lined with towering trees that obscured the heavens from view. When she noticed her mouth hanging open, Kagome blushed and hastily closed it. Nekoro purred, and her gaze was averted from the road. Blue-gray eyes remained there for the rest of the ride.
It was only when she felt herself jerk forward slightly did she look up again, observing a run of concrete steps. By then, there was someone holding the car door open for her. Again, her cheeks flushed as she moved to exit the car. She kept her stare from wandering by focusing on the stormy gray concrete while ascending the stairs.
Sesshoumaru watched, amused. If his secretary didn’t sharpen up somewhat, she would slam into his expensive glass door. Light hands on her shoulders caused her head to snap up in surprise. He patiently maneuvered her through the entrance and into his home and shut the door behind him. Leaning gracefully against the door the star silently observed his amateur assistant.
Kagome’s head was tilted to the high ceiling, wondering at the intricate work of crystal chandeliers. Two grand staircases, boasting steps of carpeted marble, wound around thick columns on either side of the petite hallway. Immense bay windows surrounded her, swathed with lavish bolts of silks showcasing cool washes of color. The wood floor felt incredibly foreign under the heels of her ankle boots. She had never seen things so…expensive…before. It looks like he spends money as if it were running water…wow… As her eyes traversed the walls, she once again felt like a child paying her first visit to the candy store.
[To Be Continued…]