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She lay seated by the river, patient yet expectant. Dusk was nearing its end, giving way to twilight. Kagome never thought she would end up willingly fulfilling that pact she had felt almost forced to make at the end of summer; that pact which, with pain and regret, she ultimately accepted to the great displeasure of Inuyasha and the others.
“You must remain with me for two sunsets every lunar quarter until all the seasons have passed.” That hoarse, tactless, hostile voice had fallen upon them all like a curse once the bearer of the sword capable of bringing beings from the underworld had saved the little fox child who accompanied them on their travels. That meant that, every week, she had to be with Rin, Jaken, Ah-Un and, of course, with him—with Sesshōmaru.
Two days every week, for an entire year.
Inuyasha, his hand on his sword and tense, had been on the verge of challenging him to a duel in the face of such a demand. He flatly refused to allow Kagome to be “punished” in that way by his half-brother. He did not understand the reason for his requirement. No. And he understood even less that Kagome would accept so completely resigned; it filled him with rage and fueled his desire to lash out at Sesshōmaru.
“Lord Sesshōmaru, may I go in Kagome’s place?” Shippō pleaded, while Inuyasha, one hand on Tessaiga, held himself back.
Sesshōmaru glanced at him sideways and then turned his back on the group, making it clear that he was not willing to negotiate now that he had fulfilled his part of the bargain.
When Inuyasha went to draw Tessaiga to confront Sesshōmaru, Kagome stopped him with an unfriendly expression.
“I am the one who asked him, Inuyasha; I must accept the consequences,” she said, standing firm before the hanyō.
“But… Kagome,” Shippō said through sobs. “You can’t go with him.”
Kagome knelt in front of Shippō and, taking his face in her hands, said with a smile, “It’s not the end of the world, Shippō, and we should thank him for you being back with us.”
Thus, from that moment on, just as the lord of the west had indicated, Kagome was forced to join his group twice a week. The first time, it was Rin who kindly came to fetch Kagome by Sesshōmaru’s order.
“Miss Kagome,” the dark-eyed girl approached Inuyasha’s group with a smile, as they lay before an improvised campfire in the middle of the forest. “Lord Sesshōmaru requires your presence.”
“Requires,” Kagome thought to herself, swallowing hard.
“It can’t be!” Inuyasha objected, turning to Kagome. “We’ve just located a new shard; you can’t leave now, Kagome, we need you.”
Kagome subtly clenched one of her fists. It was true: she had detected shards, possibly more than one, and her participation in the search was of vital importance. But she knew she could not, even remotely, try to negotiate with Sesshōmaru. She knew the very idea would make no sense at all and that it would probably end up unleashing who knew what kind of dispute between the daiyōkai and her group of friends.
“Inuyasha,” she cut off the hanyō before he could continue arguing. “You’ll have to turn to Kikyo; I’m sorry.”
Kagome knew perfectly well that he would not be alone, and that partly helped her carry out her “contract” with Sesshōmaru without it weighing so heavily on her conscience. For some time, Inuyasha had been secretly seeing Kikyo, and Kagome was not foolish. Perhaps he did it so as not to hurt her, or because, as he had confessed in the past, he was “confused.” But for a long while now, Kagome felt she had gone through all the stages of grief with Inuyasha, and she cared very little about it. If she had decided to remain with that group, it was because she wanted to help Sango recover her brother and Miroku break his curse.
She remembered that ridiculous book Hōjō had given her when he heard that her father had passed away. Late—because a long time had already passed since her father’s death—but reading it helped her, without her knowing it, to understand how her feelings for Inuyasha had evolved over time.
Inuyasha’s face was quite a sight, but he did not dare say anything else and had no choice but to resign himself to watching the young priestess leave, accompanied by the girl who, for some time now, had joined his half-brother on his travels.
Now, in the present, Inuyasha had stopped grumbling so much about her absences, and Sesshōmaru had stopped sending emissaries to fetch her. The meeting point was always the river that ran on the outskirts of the village at dusk, and he would personally appear to escort her. He never made her wait, but that day had been different: when Kagome arrived, he had not yet appeared.
The sound of the water cutting through the river path calmed and relaxed her as she waited, until, at one point, she felt watched. When she raised her head and stopped observing the flowing water, she realized that, a few meters away, a pair of golden, gleaming eyes pierced her.
As she stood up and headed toward her “captor,” for lack of a better word, he began to walk toward their destination, guiding her from a distance.
“You’re late today,” Kagome dared to say.
There was no reply.
Kagome quickened her pace to draw a little closer to him. Night had already fallen over the forest, and she did not like walking at such a distance from Sesshōmaru at all, despite knowing that, in the face of any attack, he would be fast enough to protect her.
When he heard her hastened footsteps, he did not even flinch and remained just as calm, but he did not widen the distance; instead, he walked closer to her, as if he understood her fear.
Kagome watched how Sesshōmaru’s light steps and flowing platinum hair seemed almost divine, despite the fact that he was a daiyōkai who had been practically her enemy not so long ago. She had grown accustomed to him, to his silences, to sharing space while barely sharing any dialogue; deep down, she knew she could not aspire to be worthy of his sympathy, and that the fact he tolerated her was already an abysmal change.
At first, it had been extremely uncomfortable for her, but now she understood it and accepted it. Their relationship was fine just the way it was, and only half the time remained before that “pact” came to an end.
A sigh escaped Kagome and, for an instant, she could almost have sworn that one of the demon’s sharp ears reacted to that faint sound. However, she immediately knew it was nothing more than her imagination playing tricks on her.
“Miss Kagome!” Rin shouted from afar when she saw her approaching the camp, raising a hand to greet her enthusiastically.
Kagome smiled, and her face lit up at once. The affection she felt for that girl had grown stronger over time. She knew, deep down, that Sesshōmaru did not have a heart of stone, having granted a chance at life to a creature who, in such a hostile world, would have perished without anyone remembering her. Now, instead, Rin traveled under the protection of someone powerful, had what could be called a pet—Ah-Un—and Kagome had become, for her, a tutor, a teacher, and, in a way, a role model to follow.
She had come to that conclusion after spending several days with them and finally understanding the reason behind Sesshōmaru’s demand on the day he saved Shippō from death. He needed her to educate Rin, to teach her to be human, to live alongside others, to understand the world. Although, for Kagome, that did not change the fact that he was still an insensitive despot.
“Rin!” she greeted her with a smile.
That time, Kagome had come prepared, carrying many new things for the little one.
Upon arriving at the place, she immediately realized that something was different. It was no longer the usual improvised camp: now there was a small cabin, a well-arranged campfire, stacked firewood, and provisions carefully laid out. Everything seemed designed to be inhabited by humans, not just by yōkai.
“Things have changed,” Kagome remarked, unable to hide her surprise.
“Do you like it, Miss Kagome?” Rin asked with a knowing look. “Lord Sesshōmaru had it prepared for us.”
Kagome raised an eyebrow, surprised, and when she turned around she realized that Sesshōmaru remained at a sufficient distance from them both. Even so, she was sure he could hear every word with his keen hearing.
“Yes, it’s great, Rin. I imagine you’ll be much more comfortable now.”
The girl replied with a wide, incomplete smile, as she was beginning to lose her baby teeth. She took Kagome’s hand and guided her toward the inside of the cabin.
“And there’s even more!” she announced excitedly.
Upon entering, Kagome realized that the interior was furnished with two futons laid out over a fine tatami floor. There were neatly folded blankets and a tub of water set over a gentle fire that seemed to keep it warm. It moved her deeply; what she missed most about her home was precisely the bath.
“I’ll be able to truly relax here,” she thought, her eyes shining at such luxuries for the time she was in.
“This is amazing,” she murmured, unable to contain herself.
Rin nodded, proud.
“I think Lord Sesshōmaru paid attention to the stories about your world.”
Kagome was taken aback. It was true that she always talked to Rin about her home, about her bath and the comforts of “her world,” never explaining that it was, in fact, the future. Even so, she had never imagined that the most powerful daiyōkai of the west would pay attention to such trivial tales.
“I missed you very much, Miss Kagome,” Rin said, suddenly changing the subject.
“And I missed you too, Rin,” she replied softly. “And please, just call me Kagome, all right?”
She then crouched down and opened her backpack wide, carefully taking things out, trying to focus her attention on something else and hide the slight blush that had taken over her cheeks as she imagined that Sesshōmaru had had that thoughtful gesture.
“I brought you things from my world, and this one is very special.”
She handed her a small kimono, folded with care.
“This was mine, from when I was little, and I want you to have it. Besides, it’s Christmas in my world, so it’s my gift for you.”
“Christ-mas? What’s that?” Rin asked, curious.
“It’s a tradition that arrived in my world not very long ago. Families and friends gather, eat together, and share gifts to show one another affection.”
“Oh!”
Rin did not fully understand that “Christmas,” but from what Kagome said, it sounded like something good.
“This year I’ll celebrate it with you. I brought gifts for everyone.”
“Even for Lord Sesshōmaru?” Rin asked, surprised.
“Yes, even for him,” Kagome smiled, surprising herself as she realized what she was planning. “I also brought things to prepare a dish for everyone… whatever I can, I suppose,” she added, reconsidering as she remembered that her utensils there were quite limited.
She finished taking everything out of the backpack and organized the items around the cabin. When everything was finally in its place and within reach, she turned to Rin, who had helped her throughout the process.
“Is it all right if we take a bath in that tub?”
“Of course,” the girl replied naturally. “Lord Sesshōmaru prepared it for you… I mean, for us.”
Had Sesshōmaru prepared that for her? No, impossible. Most likely, he had done it thinking only of his protégé. Kagome shook those foolish thoughts from her head. The daiyōkai was far closer to being an enemy captor than to becoming a sympathizer of hers or of her group of friends. She was there out of obligation, and she knew that if she broke her agreement, he would make her pay dearly.
“I also brought a kimono for myself, so we can wear kimonos together,” she said, once again trying to push Sesshōmaru out of her thoughts.
“That’ll be fun!”
“Yes… that’s why we should go to sleep early today, so tomorrow we can prepare everything for Christmas.”
And that was what they did.
They filled the tub and bathed together. Kagome shared her favorite shampoo with Rin and, as steam filled the air, told her Christmas stories she had seen on television before returning to the feudal era. Rin listened with wide eyes, as if every word were a spell.
“So… the reindeer with the red nose was the most special of them all?” she asked excitedly.
“That’s right,” Kagome replied with a smile. “And the gifts arrived on time thanks to him.”
“Wow!”
Kagome knew those stories would please her, just as they had with Shippō.
“We should get out now,” she added after a while. “The water’s starting to cool.”
They stepped out of the ofuro, and Kagome helped Rin dry off and get dressed. After that, they brushed their hair, and finally Kagome let herself fall onto one of the futons, grateful to have a decent place to sleep in such a hostile world.
. . .
The next morning, Kagome woke early. It was colder than during the night, even colder than on the previous days. Without waking Rin, she put on suitable clothes and stepped out of the cabin.
Then she saw it.
A layer of snow covered the ground, leaving it completely white. Her breath became visible as she breathed, and her lips began to feel tight from the sudden change in temperature.
“It snowed…” she murmured, surprised.
“Hn.”
The subtle grunt of assent pulled her from her amazement. Sesshōmaru was standing beside the cabin.
“Good morning, Sesshōmaru,” she greeted him, looking him in the eyes, unsuccessfully searching for some reaction, some gesture.
“How dare you address Lord Sesshōmaru so familiarly, human?” Jaken screeched, breaking the stillness and the brief connection between them.
Kagome detested that creature’s temperament.
“Silence, Jaken.”
Sesshōmaru’s voice was more hostile than usual. Without another word to anyone present, he turned around and left, delicate footprints trailing behind him in the snow. Had she not seen them, Kagome would have thought he had floated away.
Jaken glanced at her sideways, but did not dare say anything else.
During the day, Rin and Kagome wore their kimonos, just as they had promised, and prepared part of the food Kagome had brought: curry, noodles, some onigiri. Even Jaken, always ill-tempered—and even more so when Kagome was nearby—approached the large campfire. His eyes gleamed at the sight of the food, but when Kagome offered him some, he feigned disinterest.
Knowing him well, Kagome set his portion aside. The little goblin attacked it as soon as he thought no one was watching.
Later, Kagome gathered a couple of rice balls, some curry, and a cup of green tea onto a plate. With some hesitation, she approached the place where Sesshōmaru remained seated, silent and contemplative. Around him, the snow seemed to have completely disappeared.
She sat down beside him and set the food nearby.
“It’s food from my world… you might like it,” she said, hugging her legs to keep some warmth.
Despite the sun, the cold was still intense.
Sesshōmaru noticed how the exposed skin at the nape of Kagome’s neck prickled when an icy gust reached them.
“Shouldn’t you dress more warmly, human?”
“Uh… well… I forgot my scarf in the village.”
“I see…”
“Enjoy your meal!” Kagome added as she stood up, giving him a kind smile.
She knew it had not been a good idea to approach him that way. She had pushed too hard at a sympathy that did not exist in the daiyōkai.
When Kagome started walking, something warm fell over her neck. It was a kind of white, furry scarf whose origin she recognized immediately. When she turned around, Sesshōmaru, standing right behind her, was watching her with curious, silent attention.
“Keep it,” he said seriously, without looking away.
“This… this is part of your mokomoko, isn’t it?”
“Not anymore. It belongs to you now. You will freeze to death without it.”
“And why should you care?”
He resumed his path toward where the group was, without adding anything else. Kagome, frozen in place and completely stunned, caressed the soft white fur that now covered her neck.
Why so much attention? Why had he suddenly gone from being her captor to worrying about her?
Kagome was more confused than ever, and those fleeting feelings that had appeared in her chest and stomach weeks earlier fluttered once more, disordered and insistent.
“Is that Lord Sesshōmaru’s mokomoko?” Jaken exclaimed, gaping, while Kagome and Rin built a snowman together.
Kagome did not answer.
“It’s true!” Rin said excitedly. “It looks really good on you, Kagome.”
“Thank you!” she replied with a smile, offering no further explanation.
When she looked away, she realized that Sesshōmaru was watching her from a distance, almost as if he were boasting about having placed that furry piece around her neck.
“It’s time for the gifts,” Kagome said, a little nervous, trying to divert attention.
For Rin, there were a pair of mittens and a matching scarf. For Jaken, a cleaning kit for his Nintōjō. For Ah-Un, a ball and some dog snacks, which the dragon examined carefully without quite understanding their purpose.
Lastly, there was Sesshōmaru’s gift, the one that had cost her the most to choose. It was completely wrapped, so no one could see what it was.
Kagome approached him and held out the small package.
“It’s a gift, for Christmas. Everyone has one, and you weren’t going to be the exception. Besides… today you also gave me a gift.”
Everyone was left stunned by Kagome’s action, but no one said anything.
Later, by the fire, Kagome and Rin roasted marshmallows and ate them with biscuits, while she told the little girl more amusing stories. Sesshōmaru did not open his gift; he simply kept it to himself, without making any comment.
That night, Kagome slept with the piece of mokomoko fastened around her neck. A warm, comforting sensation spread throughout her body.
. . .
The next day, at dusk, as always, Kagome had all her belongings packed and was preparing to head back to the village. A question had been weighing on her chest for hours: why so much attention? Why the gift?
But she had been unable to voice it. She was a coward, and she knew it.
She opened her mouth for a moment as she walked behind him, while Sesshōmaru seemed unaware of the whirlwind churning in her mind. Before she could say anything, he was the one who broke the silence.
“Why a comb?”
His voice was soft, measured. It was not the tone Kagome was used to.
“Um…” she hesitated, stunned to find herself questioned. “Well… I think you have hair worthy of being properly cared for.”
“I don’t know what they teach women in your world,” he continued, “but in mine, as I know it, this gesture means something very different.”
Kagome froze. Unbidden, her mind slipped back to that history lesson on the Heike Monogatari, when her teacher had explained how, in eras like the Heian and the Edo—traditions that may have stretched even further back, perhaps to the Sengoku period itself—a simple comb could carry a weight far heavier than its shape suggested. It might mark a bond of love, a vow quietly exchanged… or a final parting between lovers.
When Kagome had decided to give him that comb for Christmas, none of that had crossed her mind.
Or perhaps it had.
Perhaps it had been her subconscious betraying her, revealing what she had long been trying to bury deep within her chest.
She fell silent and, in a clumsy attempt to divert attention, dared to ask:
“Why did you give me this?” she said, pointing to the piece of fur that still covered her neck. “Why does it suddenly seem like you don’t hate me anymore?”
Sesshōmaru stopped short. He turned around and, approaching very slowly, brushed with one of his claws the soft, white, gleaming fur that had been part of him until the day before. Then he looked straight at her.
“In my world, we call this courtship.”
Kagome’s eyes locked onto his, burning and full of surprise. Her face turned completely red, and not because of the biting cold of that afternoon. Those words sank deep. They were the last thing she expected to hear from the imposing daiyōkai now standing before her, solemn and resolute.
“I… I’m only human,” she murmured, her voice trembling, nerves frayed and heart unsteady.
“And it is also written that your destiny is to be my mate.”
That day, without either of them yet knowing it, their destinies had begun to intertwine in a completely unexpected way.