“No. Absolutely not.”
Despite his protestations, no amount of glowering and threatening from the fearsome inudaiyōkai could make Kagome lighten his sentence. He wondered if he was losing his touch, or if this was just one of the many ways he’d found himself susceptible to Kagome’s charms. For some unfathomable reason, he was in a costume shop on a Sunday night, about to head to another tiresome party that her friends were holding to celebrate one of their many pointless holidays. And he was staring down at the hot dog costume that Kagome had picked out as a form of cruel and unusual punishment.
“You promised, Sesshōmaru! Surely someone as honourable as you wouldn’t dare to be a sore loser?” The teasing glimmer in Kagome’s eye and the aspersions cast upon his honour were merely salt on his wounds.
Sesshōmaru took in the costume with a feeling of growing horror. He hadn’t even wanted to attend the Halloween party, hosted by the lecherous lawyer Miroku, but now, he would suffer not only the torment of mingling with mortals, but having to do so while dressed in this… this abomination. He was the terrifying and capable CEO of Gekkōka Industries, one of the largest corporations in Japan, but because he had lost a bet to his wife, would have to cast aside his preferred armour of bespoke suits in exchange for abject humiliation.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a shaky breath as Kagome removed the costume from its wrapping and held it out to him, a look of barely-contained glee crossing her usually sweet features.
“I’ll get you for this,” he muttered, cursing his ill fortune as he received the hideous garb and prepared himself for his inescapable fate.
Meanwhile, Kagome whirled around in her nurse’s outfit, distracting him from his frustrations for a second. “Promises, promises!” She sang, much too cheerful at the prospect of his suffering. “I’ll leave you to it, my love! And don’t you even think about sneaking out through a window! I’ve checked—there are no windows.” With a cheeky wink, Kagome sashayed out the door.
Damn it. Even now, she still gave him a hard time after she’d caught him trying to get out of dressing as a banana for Rin’s birthday party all those years ago. It had been impossible to explain why he was climbing out a broken window—he’d also had to compensate the store owner for shattering said window—while the tattered remains of a banana costume lay in a pile behind him. Naturally, Kagome had refused to let him off easy that time. He was sure someone in Kagome’s extensive friendship network ran an entire franchise of these cursed shops, because she had procured yet another of the dreadful garments in an hour.
Sesshōmaru was not a man of god, but as he began his transformation into a hot dog, memories of mocking laughter swirled in his head. He found himself giving into silent prayer. Let this not be a repeat of that nightmare.
*****
Appreciative wolf whistles greeted Kagome when she stepped in through the door ahead of him, but for Sesshōmaru, there was only stunned silence. The cozy party ground to an abrupt halt as everybody turned to witness the usually dignified daiyōkai cross the threshold, the tip of his hot dog head bumping the top of the doorway carelessly.
“Kagome! Sesshōmaru! So glad you could make it!” Miroku was the first to recover, and as one of the hosts of the party, made his way over and pulled Kagome into a hug. “I’ll uh, pass on the hug with you, buddy,” he added, hiding a chuckle with a quick sip of his drink.
“I was about to say the same,” Sesshōmaru bit out, ignoring the hand that Miroku offered instead. The latter shrugged, directing his attention to Kagome instead. “By the way, Sango’s busy arm wrestling one of my coworkers. Couldn’t stop her.”
“Soooooo….!” A grating voice assaulted Sesshōmaru’s delicate ears, one that he associated with Kōga, an annoying pest who led a company that sold bath bombs and soaps. “If it isn’t the Lord of Dog-Breaths gracing us with his presence tonight. In a hot dog costume, no less.”
Kōga strutted over to the trio, bare chest thrust out in another misplaced display for Kagome. Dressed as a gladiator, his scant clothing was barely a costume, consisting only of a chestplate that exposed sweaty pectorals and abs, paired with what looked like a studded, brown skirt that fluttered around thick, hairy thighs. Sesshōmaru managed to find some measure of relief amidst the instinctive revulsion. Surely, that costume is worse than mine.
“Oh hey, Kōga!” Kagome turned from Miroku towards the offending wolf yōkai. “Been a while, hasn’t it? How’s your business coming along?”
“Must we always talk business, darling? I much prefer to talk about love.” The smarmy imbecile had seized Kagome’s hand with the firm grip one might expect of a particularly clingy octopus. Sesshōmaru bristled and pushed himself between them, thankful for his ridiculous getup for once. The bulky costume put plenty of space between Kōga and Kagome, and the former made a mournful noise at their separation.
Kōga tapped Sesshōmaru on the shoulder, though truthfully, it was hard to feel anything through the layers of padding. If Sesshōmaru hadn’t been spoiling for a fight, he doubted he would’ve felt anything. He turned just enough to see his adversary out of the corner of his eye.
“How is it that Kagome’s still stuck with you? I knew you had no fashion sense, but this is a new low,” Kōga scoffed.
“Be nice, Kōga. Sesshōmaru’s being such a good sport right now.” Kagome leaned in closer to Kōga, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He lost a bet, you see.”
“He does strike me as the loser type,” the foul wolf agreed, his own voice a matching stage whisper.
“Someone call Sesshōmaru a loser?”
Sesshōmaru’s right eye twitched as his half-brother joined the fray. Kagome had warned him that Inuyasha would be at the party, given that he was such close friends with Miroku, and yet he was scarcely prepared for the immediate surge of irritation that he felt.
“So, what bet did Sesshōmaru lose? I want to hear every last, humiliating detail.” Inuyasha flashed pointed teeth in a malicious grin. “Kagome, you’ve got my brother whipped, I’ll tell you that, if you managed to stuff him in that nonsense.”
“Half-brother.” Sesshōmaru gritted out.
Inuyasha gave a noncommittal shrug. “Man I’ll tell you, seeing you dressed in that costume makes me glad we’re only half-brothers.”
The low simmer of indignation that had started when he had received his punishment was now growing in intensity. Anger and annoyance curled within his gut, and he was doing little to curb the aggravating feelings. He felt his mind drifting back to a happier time, where most familial squabbles had been resolved with a quick punch to Inuyasha’s obnoxious face. Unfortunately, both humans and yōkai now lived in a much more “civilised” time, and settling problems with one’s fists had apparently fallen out of fashion.
“That’s very rude of you, Inuyasha.” Kagome intervened, stepping forward and jabbing the offending hanyō hard in the ribs. “Your costume isn’t really much better now, is it?”
“H-hey now, I didn’t pick this out!” Inuyasha protested, backing away from Kagome’s unrelenting accusatory finger. “Kikyō thought it was cute, okay?”
“Wasn’t it a bit too on the nose?” Kagome raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know where Kikyō had found such a talented face painter, but whoever it was had done a very good job—Inuyasha looked every bit the dog he was, from his painted-on whiskers down to the fluffy black tail that emerged from the back of his costume. His dog ears were perfectly disguised when he was dressed in such attire.
“Can we get back to the topic at hand, please?” Miroku had rejoined the small crowd with a fresh cocktail in his hand. “What explains your unusual outfit today, Sesshōmaru?”
“Well, we were betting that Rin had a boyfriend, you see.” Kagome supplied the information with a broad smile. “I told him that—”
“She is too young to have a boyfriend.” Sesshōmaru interjected, glaring at Kagome as she rehashed the familiar topic of many disagreements.
“She’s nineteen, dear.” Kagome sighed, giving him a comforting pat on the arm. “Anyway, my bet was that the lucky young man on the receiving end of Rin’s generous affections would be Kohaku—”
A disapproving snort escaped the regal daiyōkai. He had been hoping that Rin would choose a yōkai partner, knowing that she would enjoy the benefits of extended life. That battle had been lost with the help of Kagome, who fed Rin with frivolous ideas about “marrying for love” and “being true to your heart.”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, darling.” Kagome murmured, smacking him lightly on the arm. “It’s not a good look when your wife is human.”
Multiple pairs of sharp yōkai ears caught the slight reprimand, and a round of snickering ensued.
“And I also bet that Kohaku would confess to Rin before the end of the year, and she would gladly accept him.” Kagome finished, looking far too proud of herself, Sesshōmaru thought. Really, it is her fault that we are all in this predicament.
“Ah, the heart wants what it wants,” Miroku nodded sagely. “Nineteen is definitely old enough for one to dive deep into the world of romance, I say. Why, when I was seventeen, I—”
“I think we are all well acquainted with your exploits, Miroku.” Sango had apparently won her arm wrestle, because she now approached her sheepish husband and narrowed her eyes at him. “Let Sesshōmaru and Kagome decide how they want to parent. Miroku, I need to talk to you. The rest of you, enjoy the party.”
The small group dispersed after Miroku and Sango departed. Kagome took Sesshōmaru’s hand and headed for the couch. “Sit down, I’ll get us both some drinks.”
“I can’t sit.” Sesshōmaru replied, voice flat. The hot dog costume was a vertical prison, its bulk making it difficult for him to bend.
“Oh. I didn’t think about that. Sorry.” Kagome gave a guilty giggle. She scanned the apartment with curious blue eyes. “Okay, drinks, then we can chill out there for a while.”
They ducked into a nearby bedroom, Kagome propping the door open for Sesshōmaru with her foot as she held two cups of boozy punch. It was tastefully decorated, at the very least, painted a deep navy with matching curtains framing the floor-to-ceiling windows. A canopy bed with azure sheets and draped in lapis-coloured mesh took up most of the space, with baby blue furnishings rounding out the look.
“I figured you needed a break from everyone else.” Kagome unwrapped Sesshōmaru’s tightly-clenched fingers and pressed a plastic cup into his hand. Seeing as Sesshōmaru couldn’t quite sit, she led him to the window, where they leaned against the walls and sipped their drinks.
“There is not nearly enough alcohol in this to help me survive this night,” he said, feeling rather bitter. Even the finest yōkai sake wouldn’t be enough to help him endure—or forget—tonight’s ordeal.
“I was about to get you a gin and tonic, but…” A nervous laugh escaped Kagome’s lips. “We know what happens when you get tipsy, Sesshōmaru.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I wish I didn’t know what I meant either,” Kagome muttered. “Remember when you sent Inuyasha home with two black eyes? You told me you wouldn’t punch—”
“And I did not punch him.”
Kagome gave him an incredulous stare before she chugged the rest of her punch for fortitude. “Yes, you didn’t punch him, but asking your personal assistant—your yōkai personal assistant, naturally—to punch him is as good as doing it yourself!”
“The responsibility of a leader is to delegate,” Sesshōmaru intoned, drinking deeply from his cup once more.
“Dear gods,” Kagome sighed. “Just—please, no fisticuffs and bar brawls tonight. Please?”
“I would never brawl.”
“No mischief, no misbehaviour, no chaos. Okay?”
Sesshōmaru turned his golden gaze upon an anxious Kagome. “That will depend on how the other people at this party behave.”
And for all their sakes, he hoped that the night would turn out better than the chore it was proving to be so far.
*****
The night did not get better.
For one, Kōga saw fit to taunt and mock him persistently through the night. First, one chink appeared in Sesshōmaru’s usually reserved demeanour.
“Maybe you should consider using some of your own products, you stinking wolf. I could smell your filth two blocks over,” Sesshōmaru sneered, making a show of shielding his refined nose with a clawed hand.
“Kagome never complained about any smell when I was with her,” Kōga crowed. That claim was very much an exaggeration, but it was enough to chip away again at Sesshōmaru’s patience. As the foul-smelling ōkami strode off laughing, Sesshōmaru swore. I’ll get you for this. And it won’t be the kind of promise I make to Kagome, I can tell you that.
While Kagome did her social butterfly thing, flitting from guest to guest and making sincere enquiries about families and jobs he cared nothing for, Sesshōmaru sulked. It was hard to enjoy himself when he was being pelted with puns from every direction. Nobody could resist a cheap shot at the haughty CEO who had dressed as a hot dog and made a fool of himself in the process. He tried to shrink back into his corner of the room, but he escaped absolutely nobody’s notice.
“Frank-ly, that’s a pretty good costume!” Someone called out on their way to the bathroom.
“Great choice for Halloween! If this were a costume contest, you’d be a wiener! Haha!”
“Hey, Sesshōmaru! We should ketchup someday, eh?”
“They mustard been all out of outfits at the Halloween store, huh?”
After what felt like the hundredth pun, Sesshōmaru decided he had enough. “I need some fresh air,” Sesshōmaru announced, pushing through the thick crowd and preparing to head for the balcony. As expected, Kagome cut off her conversation with Sango and made her way over to him immediately.
“Sesshōmaru, will you be alright?” The slight frown on her face told him of her worry, as did her grip on his arm.
“I will be.” He bent down—best as he could, given that the burdensome costume severely restricted his range of movement—and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Enjoy yourself, love. I’ll be back.”
“Alright. Just let me know if anyone gives you a hard time, okay?”
Clearly, Kagome didn’t think that bad puns were an especially effective form of torture. He watched Kagome return to Sango before he crossed to the kitchen and let himself onto the balcony. Checking to ensure that nobody was in earshot, he put his plans into motion.
“Samādi!” Sesshōmaru called out, sending out a quick pulse of yōki as he called upon his personal assistant. In the space of a heartbeat, a sharply-dressed man arrived, materialising amidst a cloud of red-tinged smoke and giving a quick bow as was usual. When he straightened back up, however, he stumbled back with wide eyes.
“Uh… you have need of me, sir?”
“Not a word.” Sesshōmaru warned, pinning Samādi with a glare that made him squirm. His assistant was clearly still geared for work, clad in a flawless charcoal-grey suit and highly-polished dress shoes. In the interest of self preservation, Samādi raised two red eyebrows, but did not dare to speak.
“I tire of this gathering,” Sesshōmaru said, aiming for his usual nonchalant, lofty tones. “See that you put a stop to it.”
“But sir,” Samādi protested. “This is a human party. Humans aren’t exactly known for their fire-resistant capabilities…”
“Then leave the humans alone. Kōga is in there, and…” Sesshōmaru’s mind searched wildly for an excuse. “I have… plans… to get into the bath bomb business.”
“Ooh… nothing like a little arson to eliminate a business rival, sir. I get it.” Samādi gave a devious grin as he flexed long fingers tipped with wickedly sharp claws.
“No need to eliminate him, per se. He’s been mouthing off all night, and I think it’s time that he be reminded that Gekkōka Industries remains his most… dangerous competition.”
Samādi’s eyes twinkled with mischief. If he had gleaned that this wasn’t truly about business, he certainly didn’t let on. “Easily done, sir. I’ve been dying to get rid of that ridiculous furry headband he wears everywhere for a long time. Who wears puke-green headbands with Brioni suits? I mean…” He broke off as he noticed Sesshōmaru’s eyes glow crimson. “Oh, right. Fire. No party. Scare business rival. Got it.”
Sesshōmaru gave a lazy, satisfied yawn as he watched Samādi creep through the balcony and back into the kitchen, his corporeal form dissolving into another cloud of red smoke. His personal assistant was not merely capable at handling all the paperwork he spent so much time dodging—Samādi was also an adept fire elemental. And he hadn’t been called on to start a fire in three decades, so he was positively raring to go.
The party was about to really heat up.
*****
Samādi was good at his job. Too good, if Sesshōmaru were to be honest with himself. He deserves a pay raise. He’d expected his trickster of an assistant to maybe set Kōga’s hair ablaze, but he’d outdone himself this time. Cries of alarm could be heard from the sitting room, where the loathsome wolf had been situated all night, and where the fire had no doubt started. The supernatural inferno had refused all efforts at containment, and had rapidly spread all the way to the kitchen.
As the partygoers fled through the front door, Sesshōmaru rose from his vantage point on the balcony. With a triumphant laugh and a flash of razor-sharp claws, he cut himself free of the humiliating costume and flung it gleefully into the flames. Then, to reward himself for a job well done, he grabbed a can of beer from the fridge before it was completely devoured by the heat.
Prize in hand, and clad only in fine silk boxers, he leapt from the railings and landed lightly on his feet, only to walk right into the group of yōkai and humans alike seeking refuge from the fire. Kagome seized him immediately, running anxious hands over his soot-stained face.
“Sesshōmaru! I couldn’t find you, where the—where are your clothes? And—” Her ministrations were interrupted by a furious roar that split the air as effectively as the sirens of the nearby fire trucks that had arrived on the scene.
“You did this! I know you did!” Kōga raged, preparing to charge Sesshōmaru but failing miserably as Inuyasha restrained him. “You mutt, I liked that headband!” Personally, Sesshōmaru thought that his anger was much misplaced, considering that he had shiny red burns all across his forehead and down the sides of his face.
Sesshōmaru calmly sipped his beer. “I claim no responsibility, though I must say your wardrobe is much improved without it.”
The enraged wolf kept up a steady stream of curses as Inuyasha hauled him off into his car. “You fucking vindictive piece of shit, I’ll—”
After Kōga was dragged away screaming into the night, Miroku broke away from the firefighters, wearing a grim expression as he prepared himself to confront a thoroughly unrepentant Sesshōmaru. “Excuse you, I really liked that apartment. Do you know how long it takes to get accommodations like that in Tokyo these days?”
“Spontaneous combustion is an expected hazard of working with fire elementals, Miroku.”
“I don’t want to hear any of that bullshit, Sesshōmaru. Your fire elemental destroyed my sitting room and my kitchen. I don’t really like being homeless, mind you. Whatever your beef with Kōga is, that’s taking it too far.”
“I’m sure nobody expected this to happen,” Kagome interrupted, wedging herself between the men. “It was an accident, you know?”
Sesshōmaru gave a delicate yawn, taking Kagome’s hand to halt her placations. “Seeing as Samādi was perhaps a little… overzealous in his destruction of your abode, please bill all damages to Gekkōka at your earliest convenience. Samādi will also gladly source an apartment of comparable value and with superior amenities.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Miroku scowled. “This is the last time Kagome is bringing you to any party of mine.”
“This plan has no downside,” Sesshōmaru declared. “It pleases me to hear it. Now if you will excuse me, my wife and I would like to retire for the night. Have a good evening.”
With a toss of his silver hair, he pulled Kagome along with him and vacated the chaotic scene.
“Sesshōmaru,” Kagome’s voice, coloured with exasperation and defeat, spoke out softly from beside him. “Will you put something on, please?”
“Absolutely not.” Turning his nose up, Sesshōmaru prepared for a long, cool walk home.