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Sins not Tragedies. by Acediadono

Chapter 1

Sins not Tragedies.
By acediadono

I untied my crimson hakamas, peeling off my pristine white haori, I let them fall to the tacky yellow carpet of my bedroom floor. I toyed with the hemline of my black lacey G-string, slipping my fingernail under the band, I slid it down my voluptuous hips and thighs. I reached back, unclasping the matching lacey balconette bra, a special order I had to get from America as I struggle to get my generous G cup bras in Japan. 

I spun around taking in the four walls of my bedroom; the house was falling apart, cracks evident on the wall, paint peeling under the ceiling, water marks where the walls met, a mockery of what it once was. The shrine had fallen into disrepair, the shrine house, which has housed my family for generations, was bordering on unrepairable. The only bathroom that worked in the house was downstairs just outside the kitchen. The shower barely had any pressure, so you had a better chance washing yourself down in the hand basin. My bedroom has an ensuite, where I did just that. It kept me the furthest away from her.

I could hear pots clanging downstairs, mother was making dinner, probably drunk again, which was nothing but a colossal fire hazard. I would miss it, as usual and thankfully, it was never pleasant when she was like this. I walked into the bathroom, running the hand basin with warm water, splashing it with a dash of lavender soap to hide the days’ worth of sweat. I cleanse my skin after a hard day’s work, praying for a successful night.

I had to hurry; Koga would be pissed if I was late…again. 

I quickly dry myself down, running my fingers through my wavy raven hair, applied some black eyeshadow doing a quick smoky eye and painted my lips rouge, I never worried about foundation, my skin was thankfully clear, and sun kissed from all the days working the shrine. Rushing to my closet, picking out blood red lacy panties with a matching bra, slipping them on in haste. I pull from my closet, a short black spaghetti strapped dress which hugged all my curves in all the right places exposing the tops of my crimson bra and the swells of my breasts. My stomach wasn’t flat, but I liked it like that, I was healthy and strong. I pulled out a pair high blood red wedges, slipping my feet into the heels, snatching up my work bag, I ran out the door, almost falling down the stairs. Mother was standing at the kitchen opening, a look of disapproval gracing her features. 

“You goin’ out again?” She spat; her arms crossed under her breasts. Downstairs stunk of liquor, blood sat high in her cheeks, she was wasted. 

“I don’t really have a choice, we have to eat, don’t we?” I replied, hurrying past her, paying no mind to the insults which usually follow. 

“Slut,” she spat as I closed the back door, trying to forget my life, I pushed away this horridness. She hated what I did to make money, but I didn’t have much of a choice, it wasn’t like she was going to work for it. I didn’t get good enough grades to go to University, and even if I did, we didn’t have the money for me to attend. 

Such is life, woah is me, blah blah blah.

My name is Kagome Higarashi and I am 29 years old. 

I am the Shrine Maiden of the Higarashi shrine, I have been since my 18th birthday, since my Grandpa passed away. Ever since I can remember, I have suffered from nightmares, plagued with memories of someone else’s life, someone else’s adventures. A life of adventure, comradery, a silver haired boy with the most adorable puppy ears, a little red haired kitsune, a string and proud demon hunter and lecherous monk, and a boy with silver hair and a ceresent moon atop his head. Dreams of unspeakable evils and demons, constantly fighting for my life and the lives of the comrades which were not my own. The feeling that something was missing, that I left behind, and I don’t ever think I could ever get it back. My mother started drinking when I was 15, I don’t know why she started, I never really asked. It was almost as if I hit puberty and she started to hate my guts.

My Grandfather passed away at 18, which was the greatest loss I had ever experienced, I felt like my heart broke into two that day, he used to keep my mother at bay most of the time, her drinking got worse after he died. Souta my little brother, last I heard he was living with a long-term girlfriend in Kyoto, he had not been home since he left when he was 17. I would get the occasional text from him telling me he was alright, but that was the most I had heard from him. Which was sad, I loved my little brother, I know that Mother was hard, but I wished he was around.
I was left with Mother and the Shrine which I could not bring myself to give up. I loved the Higarashi Shrine with every inch of my life, my Grandfather loved it with his entire soul, up until his last breath. He would tell me how the shine was not just a building, he would say that it had a life of its own, a magic which transcended time, it was a legacy which I could not abandon. No matter how unpleasant it was to be here.

I stumbled down the Shrine steps, through the giant red tori gates, I reach the bottom and turn back, praying. Praying for my good fortune tonight, so I can repair the Well House doors, praying for my Mother and her affliction. Praying for my little brother that he finds happiness and success. Praying for my Grandfather who I hoped was peering down at me, happy no matter what I had to do to keep the Shrine running. Praying for that silver haired boy with the crescent moon, who still plagued my dreams nightly.

I sprinted the best I could in my obscene crimson wedges into the city centre, the lights flowing around me, like fireflies on a warm summers evening, the helpless souls wandering around aimlessly, seeking a purpose. Humans shuffled around me, I kept up pace, walking fast paying no mind to others on their trip home from work, or to their vices after work. I entered the red-light district of Tokyo, Kabukichō. Fluorescents illuminated my pale skin, painting me in all their colours. 


My fingers traced the handle of ‘The Den,’ one of Tokyo’s classiest strip joints, if you could call a strip joint classy. In the wise words of Koga, “if people are going to come watch chicks take their clothes off, he wanted them to be the hottest fucking chicks he could find in the best-looking venue.” Well he succeeded and it was the preferred venue of choice of red-light district activities and it paid alright, if I was to say so myself.

I was lucky for one thing, Koga had a no touch policy, he was adamant that no one touched his women. Which that in itself was a blessing, The Den wasn’t the first establishment I had worked at and customers tend to get handsy, too handsy for my liking. Koga has none of that, I guess chivalry wasn’t dead.

“Kags, you finally turned up,” Koga laughed as I slowly opened the front door, I was never one to make a grand entrance, even when I was running late.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up at the Shrine,” I pleaded, bowing slightly. My boss waved me off, as he polished glasses behind the matte black bar top.

“All Gee beautiful, I know your good for it,” He stated, my boss was beautiful. Sinfully beautiful, his long jet-black hair tied back in a man bun (he made them look good), milky brown eyes, and lightly tanned skin. He was a little taller than my 5’9, shoulders broad and hips narrow. He was well muscled all over, like a guy who eats well and goes to the gym morning and night. I’m not going to lie at times I had the wildest fantasies about running my tongue over every inch of him as I rode him to completion on a bed of furs. The thought made me ache. I watched as Koga’s head turned, his nose twitched like a dog catching a scent, watching me like a hungry wolf in the thick of the hunt. Something about him never felt right, always made my skin prickle, the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, like a small part of me screaming ‘Danger Will Robinson,’ but he was hot as hell, he looked after me and kept food on my table. Plus, he was the nicest boss I had ever had. I was not going to read into it.

“I’ll just go unpack and I’ll be out to help with set up,” I called out as I walked to the back-change area were all the girls got ready. My hips swaying to the light tempo of the music playing in the background. I smiled.

I stepped in the room, immediately greeted by Kagura. She was the headliner, such a tasteful woman, her black straight hair with a high fringe framing her face, her eyes the most dazzling amber colour, her ears slightly pointed. I always asked if she had modifications done and she swore they were real. If her face wasn’t enough to get you going, her body would kill you. Long toned less, flat toned stomach and delicate shoulders and perky, fit-in-your-hand sized breasts, she was the embodiment of woman. I sometimes struggled to believe she was a stripper. I always wondered why, but we all had our reasons.

Her show however, that was the real magic of this place, it’s what brought The Den to life. I was a potato on a pole beside her, sometimes I questioned why Koga kept me around but man, I was thankful. 

“Kagome honey!” She cried out, applying mascara. 

“Hey Kagara,” I welcomed, she was my work wife, if that was still a thing. Our shows were back to back, she was Kagura of the Wind, she dominated the stage in a sensual, rhythmic show of womanly pleasure. I was The Great Miko Kagome, I was also nowhere near as skilled on a pole, but it paid my bills and that was the only thing that mattered. 

“Girl we’re apparently going to have a full house tonight, some rich dude bringing his business buds to get their rocks off,” Stated, skill-fully doing a neat and to the point eyeliner wing. Moving with the grace and poise I could never possess. 

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath, rich was good, big crowds not so much, it means I had to put a whole lot more energy into the exercise and I just did not have it today. “I’m so exhausted Kagura. I spent most of today scrubbing down the Well House top to bottom, I’m getting ready to replace the doors, I’m the definition of fucked and I haven’t had dick in literal years.” I scoffed the last bit. Literal years! I can hardly remember the last time; it was that long!

“It’s okay babes, just pop a red bull and take every dime they throw at you! I’ll add a little extra into my set tonight so you can take a little time to recoup.” She stated, sliding a red bull in my general direction. I’m not exactly sure what I did to deserve this gem of a woman, but I was not about to take it for granted. 

I sat down at my mirror. My eyes bloodshot, like I had spent all night partying, black bags hung underneath them, only to be accentuated by the now smeared eyeshadow I applied before I left. My cheeks were flushed, and my skin looked sickly pale. My raven hair fanned out around me. 

I looked as good as I felt. Which wasn’t saying much.

Kagura was getting ready to go on stage next to me, I could feel the bass of the main stage pounding through the wall. The night was starting, the side acts were already warming the crowds up and the two headliners were there to tip the crowd over the edge, I had to hurry. I cracked open the red bull Kagura slipped me, guzzling it back like a frat boy at a kegger, pulling up my hair into a bun, I got to work. I tidied up my face, covering it in white powered just like a geisha, only painting my lips bright red. Masterfully tracing a small violet crescent moon between my brows, I don’t know why I did it, but it felt right, it was apart of my act after all these months. That is all the make up I had to do, I liked to keep it simple. It wasn’t what the show was about anyway, men usually only wanted to see one thing. My costume however was far more intricate.

I wore traditional miko garbs, which had been modified for easy removal, over that, I wore an oversized Hoari, pristine white littered with tiny magenta Sakura flowers that flowed to the floor. Underneath, I wore a simple lace crimson bralette which barely covered my nipples and crimson g-string. I had small red ribbons tied to my upper arms with small bells attached to them which I jungled every time I moved. I performed in a pair of platform geta, which took a long time to learn how to move in but completed the aesthetic. I carried a Suzu with me for my opening to my act, I always preformed the Kagura dance, it didn’t seem right to abuse this knowledge of the Kami without giving something back. Once I was satisfied, I pulled my hair back neatly with a white ribbon, just like I would at the shrine. 

People paid for the experience of seeing the slutty shine maiden, something so sinfully pure.

I hated exploiting what my Grandpa taught me, I hated exploiting something so scared, but it was all I knew, and I had bills to pay.

Kagura exited the stage with a thunderous roar from the crowd. She only wore her G-string and heels, her pert breasts bouncing as she sauntered backstage. The band of her G-string filled with 5 and 10 thousand Yen notes. It was a good night by the look of it. It looked like a good night indeed.

I could hear the Den go quiet. The sound of taiko filling the room, a slow, steady rhythm. 

“You’re up baby girl,” she paused, grabbing a towel from the rack near the door, “there is a surprise out there,” she winked walking past me. 

I moved slowly, taking each step with precision, if I didn’t, I would fall in these geta. 

I hated surprises. 

I made it to the stage entrance. My set was not fast paced, it wasn’t awe inspiring like Kagura’s, the way she moved was like the wind, so elegant and free. Just like her.

No mine was precise, like a warrior’s dance, a test of strength and discipline.

The taiko sounded louder, a shinobue followed, guiding me into the stage. My worst flicked and the suzu sounded with the beat of the taiko, I slipped forward again. My arms out wide, the bells of the suzu sounded again. My stomach felt tight, the crowd was silent. I moved forward again, taking a step forward to twirl, moving the suzu in time with the beat of the taiko. 
Tonight didn’t feel right. Something was wrong in this room. My skin was on fire, something threatening to burn me alive.

I kept moving forward, I couldn’t see past the stage light, so I kept my eyes low, gently walking towards the pole. Moving my hands around the stage, offering blessings to the kami above. I got to my destination, one last shake of the suzu I threw it into the crowd, knowing Koga was there to catch it, just like we practiced. I clasped my hands and bowed my head in prayer. Prayer to the kami to guide me and keep me safe from what ever was in the crowd. The room was silent. I swear I could hear the breathing of the men in the room. 

Slowly the beat of my opening song faded in, my hips gently moving as I reached out and twirled around the pole. Fully clothed still, I slowly walked back towards where I entered, slipping off my Sakura decorated hoari, twirling it around me, releasing it into the crowd. I turned back to the doting patrons, dipping low as I unclasped my hakamas, tearing them off in one quick movement, I thrusted myself forward, my kosode still preserving some of my modesty. Not that I really cared anymore. I made strides towards the pole, gripping it tight twirling myself around, my legs airborne, still managing to keep the geta on my feet. Making a move, I dropped myself down, gyrating on the pole, my ass stuck out, flaunting all the good stuff. I felt a hand lean forward and slip something in my g-string band. I pulled myself up on the pole, wrapping my legs around it, I suspended myself leaving back, letting my kosode slip off my arms, my almost bare breasts bouncing freely as I moved myself around, shaking all the goods. I heard sharp intakes of air, men cheering, money being thrown on the floor below me. The song slowly transitioned into the next, the beat increasing, so did my rhythm, I slipped my geta off, increasing the acrobatics around the pole, peeling my bralette off releasing my breasts to the crowd. I was proud of them; the girls knew how to work and how to impress. The spotlight faded around me, just illuminating the silver of the pole, my eyes locked with the unfamiliar but familiar. Honey golden eyes, following me like prey on the hunt, intimidating and exhilarating all at once. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I broke contact, turned and moving towards the back of the stage, I dropped to my knees, crawling, my ass held high, swaying from side to side as I stalked forward, I located the honey eyes man in front of me, watching me as if this was just a show for him, his eyes exploring my every curve, lapping it up like a man who had never tasted water. 

Yes, good sir, this last part was for you.

I reached the pole, my legs spread, pushing myself against the pole, grinding myself against it, never dropping eye contact with the mysterious stranger in the crowd. I watched him shift uncomfortably, a sheepish smile graced my features as I pulled myself up, continuing to make love with the pole, pulling myself up, I gave the crowd one last twirl and dip, giving full view of my full breasts. I was feeling a little daring, so I gracefully left the pole, I kept my head down low, like a meek, subservient woman.

Gracefully moving down the stairs, my bare feet meeting the cool wood, a little sticky from patrons being sloppy. I stalked towards the golden eyed stranger; I took a moment to drink him in. My skin burning as I moved closer. I didn’t think it was possible, he was possibly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Silver hair, like the boy in my dreams, cut shoulder length, pulled back in a mid-ponytail, his skin lightly sun kissed, like you would see on someone who liked to read under the trees on a summer day. His face, something heavenly, he had a smooth, masculine jawline, chiseled connecting to a well muscled neck and broad shoulders. He was fit, and looked like he worked out, my hands fell to his hands, large, calloused, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who did yard work. He fit awkwardly in the chair because of his size. His suit well pressed and black. White shirt unbuttoned at the top, which said to me he was a guy trying to de-stress after a long day. He sat there unmoving, his eyes not leaving me, he was drinking a cup of sake, sitting there like a lord in court, waiting for concubines. He set my skin on fire and I felt something deep down inside of me, ancient rise within me, stalking him, primal and waiting to meet, it was terrifying. 

“If you would please, M’Lord,” I stated, dipping my fingers to retrieve his glass. I watched as his eyes went wide in shock as I downed his cup of sake in one swig. He looked at me with familiarity, like I was a long-lost treasure, one you find cleaning out a Well House or Storeroom. I moved, resting my ass on his leg, mindful of my weight, not that I think he would mind, I placed my hands on his shoulders as I pressed my forehead against his, closing my eyes and for a moment I was graced with visions of the unknow, the unreal. A vision overwhelmed me, one of a silver haired man, sword drawn, locked in battle, a glorious pelt fell over his shoulder, silver armour graced his chest. He was clad in a white kosode and hakamas littered with Sakura blossoms in hexagons, I’m assuming his house crest. Atop his almost angelic face rested a violet crescent moon. Like the one I felt compelled to paint on my face. 

I broke free of the visions of what could not be possible, not real, my mind playing tricks on me as it did over the years. I leaned over him, my breasts brushing against his chest as I moved closer to him, tilting my lips to his ear I whispered, “who are you?” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, and noticing the very prominent strain in his pants, I stood up and made my way to the dressing room, the next line of acts came on, just girls looking to 
help pay for university, as the age old adage goes for my profession. They didn’t have some big show or planned set, they just took their clothes off and entertained. Simple, enjoyable carnal pleasure.

I poked my head through the back door, all too aware of my near nakedness.

“Oh my god, Kagome!” Kagura cried, rushing over to me, clasping my hands. “Who the hell was that and what did she do with my Kagome??” I let out a goofy grin, I had a rule; I never touched patrons, I usually came in, did my show and served drinks for the rest of the night. So, tonight was a first.

“I don’t know,” I stuttered in embarrassment, I paused, thinking back to that silver haired man. I’m not really sure what came over me, I just went with it, went with the music, went with this overwhelming feeling inside of me that I had to get close to him.

“Do you know who that guy in the crowd was? The one with the silver hair?” I asked, taking a makeup wipe to my face. 
Kagura’s eyes darted around the room, her cheeks flushed, for once she was lost for words.

“Just odd to have silver hair in Japan don’t you think. He doesn’t look that old,” I paused musing to myself, “He looks so familiar.” I stated, Kagura’s eyes went wide. My brain was on fire, reeling from what I saw on the dance floor. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing babes!” She blurted our nervously, this was indeed a first. Who was this guy?

“Hmm, I guess your right, I’ll get dressed, Koga’s gonna need help at the bar.” I stated, wiping the make-up off my face, slipping into my crimson balconette bra I arrived in. I slipped on my little black spaghetti strap dress and my crimson wedges. Letting my hair fall around me, I fluffed it up a little, slapping my cheeks to give me a little life, I turned and smiled at Kagura. 

“I’ll see ya out there,” I blew her a kiss, she just stood there gobsmacked fumbling with the ribbon on her bra. Another first. This night just became even more curious. 

Stepping back out into the crowd I suddenly felt self conscious. The room was suffocating, the air was heavy and crackling with an energy so raw and primordial. I went looking for Koga, let him know I was clocking in for the bar shift, collecting empty glasses off tables along the way. I was a better bar tender then a stripper, Koga was just kind enough to give me a chance to earn extra money, and I was not modest by any means. If it meant I could make a little extra cash to keep the Shrine running, I would.

I entered the bar, Hitomi was pouring drinks, I slipped the dirty glasses into the glass washer, calling out to her, “Tomi, where is Koga?” I asked, Well more yelled over the music.

“Back office!” She yelled back, pointing behind her to the office behind the bar, Koga’s room. She went back to pushing shots onto slobbering patrons and snatching their money with a wicked smile. I quickly scanned the crowd for that silver haired man, and he was nowhere to be found. Hmph. 

I made my way to the back office, the door was cracked open, yelling coming from the room.

“What the fuck did you expect dog breath? She’s been living in poverty and won’t take handouts; I had a position available and she took it.” I could hear Koga yell over the music.

“Why did you not tell me? I could have of helped?! She is my responsibility!” Another foreign voiced yelled in retort, the other males voice was deep, commanding. 

“You have no idea do you. You should see where she is living. The place is in shambles. Not everything is given on a silver platter m’lord.” I could hear Koga spit. 

I had to intervene before this got out of hand, probably one of the girls’ jealous boyfriends.

I raised my hand to knock gently on the office door. 

“Koga, can I come in?” Not waiting for a response, I pushed the door open. Koga was sitting back, his legs rested up on his desk. Typical Koga. What wasn’t typical was the silver haired man who I had inadvertently given an up close and personal on stage. He looked furious, his face flushed, fist clenched, he was standing on the other side of Koga’s desk, moving from one spot to another. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I stated, my eyes falling to the honey eyes starring at me, I could see the rage boiling behind them, like lava threatening to spill, leaving a path of distraction in its wake.

“No need to apologise babe, we were just finishing up,” he paused, “isn’t that right Sesshomaru.” He announced every syllable, the last dropping with venom. Sesshomaru. I stood there for a minute, tasting each syllable like it was a candy I used to eat as a child. My eyes never leaving his, a pang of familiarity grew in the depths of my stomach.

“Wait.” I stated, moving towards him. 

“Where do I know you from?” I asked, standing in front of him, my hands on my hips defiant. Distant memories flashed, like a highlight reel before you die, the impossible, his clawed hands running through my raven hair, armour sticking into my chest as he pulled me into a kiss. I stretched up on my tippy toes, moving closer to his face when he didn’t respond.

“Do I know you Sess-ho-ma-ru?” I asked, rolling each syllable in a condescending tone.

“I’m going to hit the bar babes, you take all the time you need,” Koga laughed, winking at Sesshomaru as he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Miko,” Sesshomaru stated, as if it was something, I should be familiar with coming from him. Yes, I was a miko for all intents and purposes, but I was also a stripper, a bar tender. I was also dirt fucking poor.

“Do you know something I don’t know?” I asked, getting closer to his face, I felt my rage get the better of me, I hate people leaving me out of shit, shit that’s about me. He stood there observing, looking me over like I was tonight’s main meal, I could feel my rage bubbling, like something had awoken, deep and primal inside of me threatening to spill. 

“You do not remember, still?” He questioned, moving closer to me, till we were only centimetres apart, I did not fail to notice his movements were so graceful it made any move I made look like a fall. I stepped back (rather ungracious might I add) making room for his enormous form, I was tall for a girl, and tall for a Japanese girl at that, 5’9 was uncommon, but he towered over me, his shoulders broad, silver hair fell nearly behind his back in a neat pony tail. He was the epitome of beauty. An Adonis, fallen form a Greek Parthenon itself. I watched as if I was observing my body from above as he raised a calloused hand, pushing my raven locks behind my ear. I could feel my loins spark to life with a primal fire for this silver haired man named Sesshomaru, like a dwarven forge sparking to life after the icy winter (apologies for the nerdy metaphors). There was something still there, threatening to spill over, something antediluvian within me, something so familiar yet so out of my reach. 

“Let me show you,” he whispered. I watched in awe as a green hue formed around him, forest green, like grass after the rain. The room filled with the smell of mornings rain, sun kissed, the moss on the forest floor, in took in a deep breath, the forests musk filling my senses. I let out and involuntarily sigh. The silver haired man’s held the side of my face, his callouses thumb stroking the side of my cheek, gently and loving, something so foreign yet familiar. My eyes lifted to meet his honey glazed eyes, and my world when white. Visions of battle, a woman in Miko garbs, a quiver strapped to her back, a bow held firmly in her hands. Raven hair flowed in the winds of battle as she walked forward with a gate all to familiar to me. She walked towards a man, silver hair down to his knees, a pristine white kosode and hakamas littered with crimson Sakura encased in hexagons. The man from before. Her gaze met his, a smile fell on her lips, as a clawed hand reached out touching her cheek. 

“This is the last battle, it’s almost over, the scourge of Naraku will finally end,” she stated, “then we can be together Sesshomaru,” moving forward she placed a subtle kiss on his lips, gentle, chaste, I could feel the warmth on my own lips, watching from afar. 

“What will you wish on the Shinkon no Tama?” He asked, his voice like melted chocolate, each syllable that left his lips caused something to stir within me. 

“For it to be destroyed, only a pure wish can rid the world of the Shinkon no Tama.” She stated.

“And what of your world Kagome?” He asked, the realisation hot, that that woman was not some stranger with a striking resemblance, she was me. 

“What happens will happen, but we will work it out,” I smiled, grasping at his hand, pulling it close to my heart. An earthly warmth filled me, pulling a primal power to the surface, my hands glowed a light pink hue, my fingertips prickled at they ran over his skin.

“I love you and no matter what happens, we will find a way to be together,” I whispered. Being forced back to reality, the honey eyed man in front of me peered at me with anticipation. It was him. 

The silver haired boy from my dreams, a crescent moon appeared on his forehead like magic, magenta strips formed from his cheeks. He suddenly looked even more otherworldly then before. My head pounding from the onslaught of memories, I remembered our adventures in the past, Inuyasha, Sango, Miroku, Shippo, little Rin, Jaken and my Sesshomaru. I had so many questions, but they would have to wait. 

“Sesshomaru,” the name dripped from the tip of my tongue like honey on the back of a spoon, pooling deep within my nether regions. I peered down at my hands, glowing pink with primal power, so raw and untrained, my fingertips burned, and I could feel like anxiety rise, fear enveloping me. 

“What is happening to me?” I whispered, eyes snapping to meet his.

“Your powers are resurfacing.” He paused, taking a step forward, his clawed calloused hands reached down to take mine. Warmth, like a hot shower after a hard day’s work in the shrine, flowed over me. His fingertips glowed a subtle green to meet mine, the mixing of primal energy felt wrong and right at the same time. Like hot and cold, fire and ice, sweet and savoury. Hands dropping dangerously low, his fingertips caressed my hips, slipping further down to cup my ass. I couldn’t help but release a groan. Kami I needed him. 

“I have waited five centuries for this,” he groaned, his lips falling to my ear, breathing in my lobe, nipping. A gasp escaped me. He pulled me close to him and I could feel his need pressing through his dress pants. His hands pushed my tiny black dress up over my hips, pooling at my stomach, revealing my lacy red g-string, I watched his fevered gazed as his fingers brushed under the hem of my undergarment.

“I much prefer you keep these just for me,” he breathed, trailing kisses down the length of my neck. I could feel the heat pooling between my legs, a lake of ecstasy waiting to be waded in like a hot spring after a hard day at battle. 

“I know who you are,” I breathed under his ministrations, his body pushing me against the wall of Kouga’s small office. I met the wall with a subtle ‘oof,’ as his body pushed harder against me. Filling me with warmth and need, I needed him like I needed air. 

“Hn,” was all he said, his lips meeting mine as his free hand gripped my ass with ferocity, pulling me up the wall, beckoning me to wrap my legs around his waist. 

“We fought together,” I moaned as he ground his clothed length against my womanhood, “you are the great Lord Sesshomaru.” I paused as he pulled back, his molten, gold eyes meeting mine, wild with desire. 

“And?” He questioned, enticing me to share more as he continued his ministrations.

“And we were in love,” I groaned as a clawed thumb pressed against my clit, slowing grinding into me, earning meek yips as I moved my hips to his sensual beat. 

“Very good,” was all he said as he slipped his oh so skill-full fingers underneath lace, entering me, I could feel my walls welcome him like an old friend in a cold night as I moaned into his mouth. 

My hands frantic, pushing down to his belt line, fumbling with the buckle like a schoolgirl on prom night. I reached my goal, his member fell from his briefs, heavy and thick and I could feel my mouth watering. I wanted to taste him, worship that length like it was the second coming, but I knew that this would have to wait for another time. His fingers pumping and out of me with vigour, stroking the most sensitive parts of me. I could feel my climax build, like the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, threatening to decimate the masses around me, my aura skimming along the inside of my skin, like an itch that desperately needed scratching. I could feel the heat of the room build around us as my stomach coiled and I felt the world crash around me in an earth-shattering boom. The furniture around us shook from the force and a blinding pink light gushed out of me as I met my completion in his hands. 

“Good miko,” he murmured, moving his kissed down my chest as his hands worked underneath my behind.
I could feel my mind reeling, memories flooding back to me, our first kiss, the final battle against Naraku, our first night together, the wish. The wish which sent me back to my time like my years of adventuring in the feudal era never occurred, it stole my love from me, a selfless wish which ended up with my memory martyrdom. 

“It was real,” I gasped in disbelief as he positioned his pulsing member at my entrance, asking to be welcomed home. I wanted nothing more in this world then him to come home. To come to me.

“You could not make this Sesshomaru up,” he smirked, slowly entering my slick womanhood, ready for him. I let out an earth-shattering moan, something that felt so familiar as he filled me to the hilt. So slowly he withdrew, my whole body felt the absence of him, in that split moment and I had to almost stop myself from begging. 

“Sesshomaru….” I breathed, “Fuck me,” and he obliged. Filling me over and over, at an inhuman pace, like a man staved, seeking his next meal. Small grunts of exertion left him, like music to my ear as my dress clad back slapped against the wall with vivacity. His tongue snaked out, tasting the arch of my neck, one hand gripping my ass with strength, keeping me at his pace, the other wrenching my balconette bra down, freeing my right breast, he squeezed tightly eliciting a groan from my parted lips. I was going to go mad; he was going to send me mad and at this moment I was okay with it.

I could feel my climax running towards me like a line backer, threatening to knock me over, take me out for the rest of the game, coiling harder deep within the pits of my belly. His pace quickened and I knew he was near. I pulled him close, capturing his lips with mine, pulling his thin, peach bottom lip into my mouth and biting down, he grunted in response. The subtle taste of his blood, flowed into my mouth, tasting him in his purest form as I felt myself spill over, a cataclysmic climax, my body jerked, eyes rolled back and a shock wave rocked the entire Den. Pure, primal power surged, threatening to take over and awaken the beasts in the vicinity as Sesshomaru followed suit, pumping his orgasm into me, his aura rising to meet mine in a dance so natural it felt as fluid as breathing. I was panting, and I could make out the subtle pants from my love as well, we stood there entwined, too afraid to move, fearful this was not real.

My senses burned to life, auras blipped all around me like sonar alerting me to the demons all around, so many familiar feelings, Koga, Kagura, Shippo, Inuyasha. They were all here.

I was home.

I was with him again.

My Sesshomaru.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed!
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Glossary of terms below:
• Taiko - Taiko are a broad range of Japanese percussion instruments. In Japanese, the term refers to any kind of drum, but outside Japan, it is used specifically to refer to any of the various Japanese drums called wadaiko and to the form of ensemble taiko drumming more specifically called kumi-daiko
• Shinbue - The shinobue is a Japanese transverse flute or fue that has a high-pitched sound.
• Hoari - The Haori (羽織) is a traditional Japanese hip- or thigh-length kimono-style jacket, worn over a kosode. 
• Hakamas - Hakama (袴) are a type of traditional Japanese clothing. Trousers were used by the Chinese imperial court in the Sui and Tang dynasties.
• Suzu - Suzu (鈴) is a round, hollow Japanese Shinto bell that contains pellets that sound when agitated. They are somewhat like a jingle bell in form, though the materials produce a coarse, rolling sound.
• Kagura Dance - Kagura (神楽 (かぐら), "god-entertainment") is a specific type of Shinto ritual ceremonial dance. 
• Kosode - The Kosode (小袖, lit. "small sleeves") is a basic Japanese robe for both men and women; the literal meaning of the term kosode is "small sleeve", which refers to the sleeve opening.
• Geta - Geta (下駄) are a form of traditional Japanese footwear that resemble clogs and flip-flops.


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