Archive of Our Own

Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we’ve no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Kikyo grit her teeth as she tried to grade final exams. For the past three days, Christmas carols had been blaring through the roof of her apartment, interrupting her day. The deadline for grades was looming, and Kikyo still had two sets of papers to get through, and not enough wine.

She sat at her kitchen table and sighed. Normally, Christmas was a time of year when...she was, maybe not ecstatic, but at least...she enjoyed herself? The snow, the hot chocolate, the ice skating...Kikyo had been there, and had experienced it all. 

But, this was her first Christmas in several years where she would be alone, and somehow, the holiday didn’t hold the same punch for her as it once did.

Her split with Suikotsu had been amiable; she had realized, pretty late in the game, that she wasn’t really attracted to him. And as much as she tried to figure out why—he was handsome, kind, smart, witty—she hadn’t been able to quite put her finger on it.

And then, she’d seen one of the more popular television series for the first time, and the main female character had...done things to her. Made her...feel things...that she had never felt with Suikotsu. She had...dreams...dirty dreams...about touching the woman...the woman touching her...in places that Kikyo had never really imagined women could touch each other. 

She began to wonder if she was attracted to women, maybe even more so than she was attracted to men. And if maybe, it wasn’t that Suikotsu wasn’t attractive; it was more that, for whatever reason, he didn’t do it for her. And that was okay.

That had been two months before; Suikotsu had been sad, but accepted it, and the two decided to stay friends, and they were, but now Kikyo’s life felt empty in a way that it had not felt in a long, long time. 

She could go home for Christmas; her sister Kaede would always welcome her, and her nieces and nephews would be glad to see her. But for some reason, this year? Kikyo just wanted to be alone, and forget that Christmas was happening.

But the goddamn Christmas music blasting through the ceiling forced her to remember that it was going to be Christmas, every second of every damn day. 

Kikyo sighed and slammed her laptop closed as hard as she dared.

Frosty the Snowman
Was a jolly, happy soul
With a corncob pipe and a button nose
And two eyes made out of coal

The songs. The songs. The songs.

Running all day long. Then, running through her head all fucking night. She couldn’t sleep without seeing visions of sugar plums dancing through her head; she could eat without thinking about cookies and milk for Santa. The papers stayed ungraded; the time to submit grades looming ever closer.

Kikyo knew. If she wanted to stop the music, she had to confront the perpetrator.

She had to go “talk” to her neighbor.

But could she? That was the question. Could she actually confront someone over something as silly as playing Christmas music too loud, every damn day and night? Could she say, hey, sorry, but you’re a little too cheery for me? Could she say, I hate Christmas this year, so thanks for bringing me down?

No . It wasn’t in her to do it. The person upstairs? Loved Christmas. Enjoyed Christmas. Who was she to take away their Christmas spirit? Who was she to bring her Debbie Downer attitude and shit all over someone else’s jolly good time? 

Not her. Not her. She couldn’t…

The stomping on the ceiling from the floor above in time to the music made Kikyo pause in her kind thoughts. The person was...dancing...to Christmas music? To “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” it sounds like? 

Kikyo lowered her head against the table and beat it gently a few times.

Fuck. My. Life.

She opened her laptop and continued to try and work, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling every so often, wondering what the person upstairs had to be so goddamn happy about.

The third night of stomping feet, Kikyo had finally had enough.

The music? She found that she could tolerate the music? The occasional stomp on the ceiling? Kikyo found she could handle that, too. But lately, the stomping had increased so that it was going on for hours at a time. Kikyo couldn’t sleep; she couldn’t eat; she needed to turn in her grades. And honestly? She really just wanted to be done. With everything.

Including the person upstairs.

So, five days before Christmas, the third night of loud music and stomping feet, Kikyo made her way upstairs to the next level. She thought of her own apartment number—222—and went to the apartment labeled 322. She hoped this was the right person. She really hoped it was. Because she didn’t want to embarrass herself by knocking on the wrong door and having to explain the whole situation, then going to find the right door and explaining the situation all over again. How many times would she need to do it, if this wasn’t right? How many nights would she ruin?

This is to save your own sanity, Kikyo told herself. No more music; no more dancing. You need peace, and quiet, and the time to make that clear is now.

So, with a trembling hand, Kikyo raised her knuckles to the door of apartment 322, and knocked.

Kagome loved Christmas. It was her favorite time of year. She loved the decorations; she loved getting together with her friends and family; she loved making little gifts for them and handing them out. 

But most of all? She loved Christmas music.

Beginning right after Thanksgiving, Kagome would start playing Christmas music on her favorite streaming station. She played it loud, she knew, but she needed it loud right now. She needed it to be loud, and deafening, because she needed it to help her forget. 

To help her forget that she couldn’t go home for Christmas this year; to help her forget that, for the first time in a long time, she would be spending Christmas completely alone.

Up until about a month before, Kagome’s plans had been set. She couldn’t go home, but that was okay! Her girlfriend Shiori lived fairly close by, and had assured Kagome that she would be more than welcome at Shiori’s family home for Christmas. Shiori and Kagome had been dating for close to a year, but Kagome had never met any of Shiori’s family. They weren’t as accepting as Kagome’s family, and were always trying to set Shiori up with some nice young man that her grandmother met at like the grocery store or something. And each time Shiori told them she was seeing someone, and wouldn’t they like to meet her? The family simply ignored Shiori, and went on with their day. 

And while at first, Shiori had gotten angry at her parents and her grandmother, but eventually, Kagome knew that Shiori had stopped asking if Kagome could come and meet them, opting instead to go see her family alone. This was supposed to be the first time that they were all going to be together; the first time Kagome would get to meet the family. 

She had been so excited, because with Shiori? Kagome felt as though she was all in. She wanted to ask Shiori to move in with her; she had a key made and was planning to give it to her as a Christmas gift. Shiori was...everything Kagome could have wanted in a woman. She was beautiful, intelligent, and she was really into Kagome, as much as Kagome was into her. Her kisses were soft, and her body was supple. Kagome knew: she wanted to be with Shiori, forever. 

But unfortunately, Shiori hadn’t apparently felt the same way. One month before Christmas, when they should have been making plans, when they should have been starting to sneak around and buy each other cute, sexy gifts, Shiori dropped a bombshell on Kagome: her parents had introduced her to a man. Named Hojo. And Shiori liked the man. And wanted to see where it was going to go. That meant...no more Kagome. 

Kagome had cried, and begged, and pleaded; she’d gotten angry; she’d thrown things and punched a hole in her wall. All the emotions had passed between them, but while Kagome had seemed devastated, Shiori had seemed... fine. Like this was fine. Like she had been planning this for awhile. 

Shiori took her belongings, and left the apartment, never to look back. A few days later, Kagome received a box in the mail, with the few things she had kept at Shiori’s apartment.

And that...had been that.

So Kagome was resigning herself to a Christmas alone: no family, no friends...just her, and her present-wrapping for the gifts she would bring home over the New Year, and her Christmas music.

Lots, and lots, of Christmas music.

It made her feel happy, and alive, and like the whole world wasn’t going to shit around her. 

So every night, when she got home from work, she played Christmas music, and it lifted her spirits in ways she couldn’t even describe. She worked overnights at the hospital as a nursing supervisor, and while the pay was divine, the hours were not, and when she’d been with Shiori, it had been bearable, but now? 

The emptiness of her apartment made her miss Shiori all the more. Christmas music, though, helped her fill the void, even a little.

She knew that maybe, it was a little loud, and maybe, she was a little too enthusiastic with her dancing? But it helped her feel better; it helped her not dissolve into a puddle of sobs when she saw the presents under the tree for a family she would have to wait to see; it helped her not go straight to her bedroom and cry for hours when she saw the key she’d had made for Shiori; it helped her get up and go to work at 11:00 at night; it helped her eat when she got home at 9:00 the next morning. 

Christmas music, at this point, was sustaining her; it was all that she had. 

One night, three nights before Christmas, Kagome was playing the music particularly loud. She had to go to work in a few hours; she was feeling the weight of a Christmas alone even more that night. She had gone through her phone and (yes she knew this was a bad idea but) looked at all the pictures of her and Shiori, deleting most of them, emailing the rest to an email address she had created specifically for breakups or things she wanted to forget. She knew that someday, the pain would be a little bit less, and she knew that someday, she might want to look at the pictures again. Not now; not in a month. But someday.

Kagome was making dinner in the kitchen; her feet were moving like crazy to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” It wasn’t the easiest song to dance to, but Kagome didn’t really care. She kept her feet moving; it kept her distracted and it kept her from thinking about going to work late at night, and coming back to an empty apartment (again) the next morning. Her dinner was nearly done, and then she couldn’t help it: she started jumping around the living room and dancing like crazy. Moving like this, throwing her body around like this...it helped .

And then, just as she was about to go back into the kitchen to check on her chicken and rice dish, there was a loud rap at her door. Kagome frowned, and went into the kitchen to turn off the gas on her dinner. She lowered the volume on her music, and there was another loud knock at the door. 

“Okay!” Kagome yelled. “One second!” 

She stormed over to the door, opened the locks, and peered through the peephole. Standing there, rather awkwardly, was a woman. 

Kagome frowned. Who in the hell could it be?

She opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked.

The woman frowned and shifted slightly from one foot to the next. She was... beautiful ...Kagome realized. Her long dark hair hung straight down her back; her skin was pale and creamy; her eyes large, almond-shaped, and dark. Her long was long, and straight, and her lips, while a little thin, created a well-formed, delicious-looking, mouth. She wore a simple cream sweater and black pants, showing off her narrow figure. 

Gorgeous. Kagome tried not to drool; her eyes widened slightly at Kikyo’s loveliness, but she quickly tamped it down.

The woman now twisted her hands nervously. “I—I live below you,” she said. “Apartment 222.”

“Oh!” Kagome cocked her head to the side. “What can I help you with?”

“I—I—” The woman was clearly nervous about something.

“Do you want to come inside?” Kagome asked.

The woman looked up. “Come inside?” she repeated blankly.

Kagome nodded. “I just finished my dinner, and there’s enough for two. We can sit and talk, and you can tell me what’s troubling you?”

The woman flushed. “I—I—I don’t know,” she stammered awkwardly.

“Here,” Kagome said suddenly, “hold on.” She ran into her apartment, leaving the door open, and grabbed her hospital ID. She didn’t know why she was doing this, but the woman was beautiful, and seemed sad, and nervous about something. Kagome decided: if she could help this woman, if she could make her day a little bit brighter somehow, she would.

Kagome returned to the apartment door. “This is my ID,” she said. “I work at the hospital. My name’s Kagome Higurashi, and I’m the 11-7 nighttime nurse supervisor there. You can call and check my reference if you want.” She smiled softly. “What’s your name?”

After peering at Kagome’s ID, the woman seemed to relax. “Kikyo,” she said. “My name’s Kikyo Nishimura.”

Kagome smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Kikyo Nishimura,” she said. “Why don’t  you come inside, and tell me what’s up?”

The woman named Kikyo smiled back, and stepped into Kagome’s apartment.

Somehow, some way, Kikyo had found herself inside the apartment of the person that she had planned to come and tell off. But the woman had been kind, and genuinely concerned, and wanted to help? She was wearing scrubs, and her ID proved that she was, in fact, a nurse. And...Kikyo had to say…

The woman, Kagome Higurashi? She was stunning.

Her long dark hair was tied back in a high ponytail, and when the light shone on her hair just so, it gleamed a blue-black against the low lights of the apartment. Her gray eyes were wide, warm, and inviting, like a cloudy sky after a summer storm. Her nose was cute and squishy, and her lips? Full, dark pink, and extremely kissable. Her body was hidden under her scrubs, but Kikyo could tell it was curvy and perfect. She found herself imagining gripping Kagome by the hips, and crashing their lips together, but she pushed that thought quickly out of her mind. 

What were the chances that Kagome would be...interested in her? She was so beautiful, so sweet...there was no way a woman like Kagome was single. 

But yet...Kikyo had noticed how Kagome’s eyes widened as she took in Kikyo’s form, as if she were...as if she thought Kikyo was attractive? And she did invite Kikyo in for dinner. So maybe it was a possibility after all? 

Kikyo wasn’t sure, but...she thought that she would be open to that chance.

Kikyo followed Kagome into the kitchen, where Kagome took two bowls from a cabinet and then took the lid off the pan that was simmering away still on the stove. “I turned the heat off,” Kagome said apologetically, “but it likes to keep on cooking. You’re not vegetarian, I hope?” When Kikyo shook her head, Kagome smiled and grabbed a spoon from the countertop, and proceeded to scoop out a chicken, rice, and vegetable mixture from the pan into each bowl. “This isn’t the best dinner,” she added, “but it’s quick, and easy, and I always have leftovers that I can eat for lunch when I wake up the next morning.”

“What’s it like, working overnights like that?” Kikyo asked. “Can I help?”

Kagome nodded, and got two glasses from another cabinet, then opened the refrigerator and pulled out the water filter. She filled both glasses with water, then put the filter back, and pulled out a baggie with some lemon wedges. She opened it and dropped a wedge into each glass, then put the wedges back in the fridge and closed it. She picked up the glasses and handed them to Kikyo. “Can you put these on the table?” she asked. Kikyo nodded, and headed out to the living room, where there was a small dining room table set up. Kagome rummaged around in the kitchen for a minute or two, then followed Kikyo out to the table, and set the bowls on the table. “I’ll be right back,” she said, then disappeared back into the kitchen for just a few seconds before returning with napkins and chopsticks. She set one napkin and a set of chopsticks at Kikyo’s place, then did the same at her own. When she saw Kikyo still standing awkwardly, Kagome pulled out her own chair and sat. Kikyo sighed quietly and did the same.

“Please,” Kagome said, “please eat.”

Kikyo dug into the food, and was excited to see sliced up asparagus, bell peppers, mushrooms, and onion, along with the chicken. The sauce was sweet, and spicy, and Kikyo had to admit: Kagome was an excellent cook.

“This is amazing, Kagome,” Kikyo said, now digging into the food with more gusto than she’d ever shown with any meal. The flavors burst on her tongue, and the vegetables were perfectly cooked: crisp, with a sharp bite. The chicken was tender, and the rice was just al dente. “Perfect,” Kikyo said in between bites, “it’s just perfect.”

Kikyo saw Kagome put down her chopsticks and watch her with interest. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” she commented. “This is my favorite meal.”

Kikyo could see why.

“The overnight shift is tough,” Kagome said, eating much more slowly and thoughtfully than Kikyo. “I started doing it about six months ago; I got promoted, but the only way I could take the promotion was to take this shift. So it’s more money—like, a lot more money—but it’s starting at the bottom and working my way up all over again, in a way. My sleep cycle is...I don’t really sleep anyway,” she added with a laugh, “so I kind of feel like I’m made for this kind of a schedule?” 

Kikyo nodded. “I—I need my eight hours of sleep,” she said. “Otherwise, I can’t function.”

Kagome nodded back, sympathetically. “What do you do?”

“I teach college,” Kikyo replied. “Right now, we’re in the  middle of final exams.” Come on, Kikyo told herself. You can totally tell her you hate her music. 

This beautiful nurse who knows how to cook. You can totally tell her.

“Oh, wow, college?” Kagome’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool! What do you teach? How long have you been teaching for? Do you like it?”

Kikyo laughed; when was the last time she had done that?  

She took another bite of the delicious dinner before responding. “I teach religion and philosophy; for five years; and yes, I do, a lot.”

Kagome’s eyes were now wide and round. “How cool,” she breathed. “ I wish I could take one of your classes! I bet you’re an amazing teacher.”

Kikyo blushed; Kagome stared at her for a moment, her eyes strangely dark and pointed, before she went back to her dinner.

“Thank you, Kagome,” Kikyo replied. “I—I try really hard.”

“You must be so busy with finals,” Kagome said kindly. “ I bet you are working so much to get them done!”

“Actually…” Kikyo’s hands gripped the chopsticks tightly. She had to say it. “That’s kind of why I’m here.”

Kagome took a sip of her water. “Really?” Confusion marred her pretty features. “What could I possibly help you with?”

Kikyo sighed and took a deep breath. “You can help me by...turningdownyourmusic,” she said in a rush.

Kagome sat, blinking at her. “Turn...my music down?” she said blankly.

“Your Christmas music…” It was all coming out now, whether Kikyo wanted it to or not. “I can hear it...through the floor. And...are you dancing up here?”

Kagome blushed bright red and took a huge gulp of water. She slammed her glass down hard, its contents sloshing over the edges. She closed her eyes; Kikyo could see her trembling.

Oh, shit. Was Kagome gonna cry?

“I’m...I’m really sorry,” she said, and yup, her voice was quaking now, and Kikyo felt like shit. “I didn’t realize my music was bothering anyone.” Kagome’s hands twisted in her lap; she bowed her head. Kikyo could see the tears dropping. “My...my girlfriend dumped me a month ago. I’m not going home for Christmas. Music is the only thing getting me through right now; it’s the only thing that’s keeping me from laying in bed and crying all day. But...I’m sorry if I was disturbing you, Kikyo.” She stood up and picked up her bowl. “I don’t think I’m very hungry anymore. You go ahead and finish up.” Her head still bowed, Kagome turned to make her way into the kitchen.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Kikyo had hurt Kagome’s feelings. The last thing she’d wanted to do.

Kikyo felt a deep and pressing weight on her chest. It started in her heart, and pressed outward into the rest of her body. She didn’t want to make Kagome cry; not beautiful, tender Kagome. Not nurse Kagome; not Kagome the excellent chef. She, Kikyo, had to fix this.

“Wait,” Kikyo called out, jumping to her feet and following Kagome into the kitchen. “Wait, Kagome.” Kagome was standing at the sink, rinsing her bowl. She paused her washing and looked up at Kikyo; her heart tore at seeing tears in Kagome’s beautiful gray eyes. “Please. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll...I’ll put up with the music. I totally can. It’s only a few days, right? My grades are due in two days. I can handle it. You should play your music as loudly as you want. Really.” She was rambling. She knew this. But Kikyo just could not stand the sight of Kagome weeping into her sink. Even though they had just met. Even though Kikyo might never see her again after this night. Kikyo just couldn’t bear the thought that she had caused Kagome pain, or worse...that she had made Kagome cry.

“It’s fine,” Kagome said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. “It was silly, anyway, me dancing around my apartment and singing so loudly. You’re right, Kikyo.” She paused. “Thank you for telling me.”

Ahhh, fuck. Kikyo’s instincts were telling her to do something, anything.

So she did. She leaned forward and grabbed Kagome lightly by the shoulders. “No,” Kikyo rasped. “I...I want us to find a solution. There has to be a solution.”

Kagome chuckled, tears still dripping down her cheeks. “That’s a nice offer, Kikyo. But I...I…” her head dropped and she had to steady herself against the sink.

It was then that Kikyo realized: the music was Kagome’s way of dealing with being alone. And Kikyo was threatening to take that away from her.

“Hey,” Kikyo said, reaching out and patting Kagome awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m...I’m sorry. I really am. What if…” Kikyo searched her brain. She’d said she wanted to find a solution, right? So what could be the solution?

“What if I came and kept you company instead?” Kikyo blurted out. When Kagome looked up at Kikyo, her gray eyes wide with tears, Kikyo felt her heart stop. She wanted...she wanted to spend more time with Kagome. She wanted to get to know her, beyond her looks and her cooking and her job. 

Kikyo realized...she wanted to know everything about Kagome.

“You need...company,” Kikyo said quickly, “and I need a quiet place to work. What if I came and hung out with you while you went about your day? I don’t mind talking to people while I grade. I won’t really mind if you watch television. I just…” How could she say, I just want to spend time with you? to a person she barely knew? 

But she did.

Kagome blinked her eyes prettily. “I—I would like that, Kikyo,” she said quietly. “I would like that a lot, actually.” She turned her face upwards, so she was looking directly into Kikyo’s eyes. Kikyo shivered from the intensity, the inquisitiveness, that was there. “But why? You barely know me. I barely know you.”

“I feel like…” This is crazy, Kikyo thought, but I’m gonna tell her.

“I feel like we’re maybe both a little lonely on Christmas?” she said.

“You’re...you’re alone on Christmas too?” Kagome whispered. 

“I am,” Kikyo said. “I could go home to my sister’s, but I don’t really want to spend the day with her and her kids. And my boyfriend and I...we broke up...a few months ago,” she added. “We’d been together a long time, but things didn’t feel…” She needed to leave a hint. A taste. Something that would clue Kagome in to the fact that she was interested in Kagome, as more than a friend.

“I didn’t feel the same about him as he felt about me,” she concluded.

“That happens,” Kagome said sympathetically, “but it’s never easy.”

“Maybe I should rephrase,” Kikyo said, trying to sort out her words. “I didn’t feel the same about him as he did about me because he’s a man. Or at least, I think that’s why.”

Kagome’s eyes grew slightly larger, and a half-smile crossed her face. “Sure, Kikyo,” she said. “Come by tomorrow at 3. I usually get up about 2:30, and so I should be showered and everything by the time you get here. Would that be okay?”

“I think that would be fine,” Kikyo grinned. She couldn’t believe that she was going to get to spend the afternoon with Kagome. With the prettiest, sweetest, kindest, best cook, nurse , she’d ever met.

“I need to clean up and get ready for work,” Kagome said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Kikyo took that as her cue. “Sure,” she replied. “See you tomorrow.”

The next day, four days before Christmas, Kikyo showed up at Kagome’s, her laptop bag in tow, a box of cookies for Kagome in hand. She wasn’t quite sure what do to, or how to act, so she thought...cookies. Cookies would be nice.

Chocolate chip with candy cane. She made them herself. Kikyo may have not been in the Christmas spirit, but...that didn’t mean she had to bring others down. And it had genuinely nearly broken her heart to see how disappointed Kagome was that Kikyo found her music too loud.

Because in the 24 hours that had passed, Kikyo was having a hard time keeping Kagome out of her thoughts. She thought about Kagome while she tried to grade, and later, when she tried to watch TV to get Kagome out of her thoughts. She imagined Kagome’s soft lips, pressing to her cheek, her nose, her own lips, down her neck…She imagined Kagome’s hands, tiny and soft, yet so strong, holding her own. There were so many thoughts of Kagome, Kikyo found it hard to even go to sleep; when she finally had, it was only when imagine that she was holding Kagome, in her arms, and not the pillow she had to grip instead.

Was it normal to feel so attracted to a stranger? Was it normal to dream about a stranger, to imagine tasting a stranger’s lips? Kikyo wasn’t sure; she’d never dreamed about a stranger before. 

And yet, here she was, about to knock on said stranger’s door, about to bring her cookies. 

Kikyo took a deep breath and did the only thing she could do.

She knocked.

“One second!” she heard, almost immediately. Kikyo stood at the door, balancing the cookie box somewhat awkwardly with her laptop bag. The door opened, and there was Kagome, shining as bright as the sun, in a cheery yellow bathrobe, her hair up in a towel.

“Hi!” she said enthusiastically. “I just got done with my shower. Come on in.” 

She opened the door a little wider, and Kikyo stepped hesitantly into the apartment, even though she’d just been there the day before. She looked around now, with interest, and saw that Kagome had decorated the apartment warmly, in medium gray and blue tones, with a hint of cream. A Christmas tree sparkled in the corner; there were no presents beneath it. There were lots of pictures on the walls, and in the living room, for the first time, Kikyo noticed bookcases stuffed full with books. 

“You like to read?” she asked, as she settled herself at the table.

Kagome smiled and shook her hair out of the towel, rubbing the strands liberally with the terrycloth. “I do,” she said with a smile. “It helps to pass the time when I’m here during the day.” She sat down at the table across from Kikyo. “You brought something?” she said, turning her gray eyes on the other women. 

Kikyo swallowed. “Cookies,” she said. “I made them.”

Kagome’s eyes lit up. “Cookies!” she exclaimed. “Can I see?”

Kikyo nodded, and pushed the box across the table. Kagome opened it, and she let out a soft sigh of happiness. “Are these chocolate chip candy cane?” she asked. When Kikyo nodded, Kagome squealed with delight and snagged one from the box. She bit into it enthusiastically, and sighed contentedly. 

“These are so good,” she said. “Would you like some tea?” Kiyko nodded, so Kagome got up to put some water in the electric tea kettle.

That afternoon, they talked. A lot . Kikyo learned that Kagome’s girlfriend, Shiori, had left her a month ago, and Kiyko shared that she split with her boyfriend, Suikotsu, just two months before. When Kagome gently pressed Kikyo for what happened, Kikyo told her it was amicable, but that she found that she wasn’t really attracted to Suikotsu in the way she had first been. Something had...changed...between them, and while Kikyo was evasive, she hoped that she left the possibility open to Kagome that she might like her. 

Kikyo ended up staying at Kagome’s until Kagome had to leave for work. And she came back to Kagome’s the next day...and the next day. She...liked spending time with Kagome. They chatted, yes, but they also were quiet. Kikyo worked, and Kagome read, or made dinner, or puttered around her apartment. Sometimes she played music, but it was quiet, and Kikyo didn’t mind the soft hum of the radio while they worked. She found that when it was time to go, she didn’t want to leave, and she looked forward to seeing Kagome the next day. And the next day, and the next.

Which was Christmas Eve.

Kagome was off Christmas Eve, and asked Kikyo if she wanted to come over for dinner. Since we’re both alone, she said. Since you like to make dessert and I like to make dinner, she said.

Oh, Kikyo liked to make desserts, all right. She liked to make all kinds of desserts: cakes, cookies, pies…

But for Kagome? She needed a super-special Christmas dessert. One that would show Kagome just how much Kikyo liked her. 

Christmas Eve morning, Kikyo left her house and set out for the grocery store, and a few other places, so that when it came time to go to Kagome’s, Kikyo would be ready.

It was just dinner.

It was just dinner.

So why did it feel like something more?

Kagome sighed as she busied herself about the kitchen. She checked the oven: the risotto was in the oven, and still had thirty minutes to go. The salmon was all prepped and covered with herbs; the green beans were steamed and ready to be sauteed. 

Everything was in order.

Yet Kagome felt like she was coming apart.

Three days ago, Kikyo had shown up at her door, sad and awkward and beautiful. And Kagome invited her in, fed her, and they talked. About her music and her dancing and her singing. And somehow, Kagome hadn’t been offended? Perhaps because Kikyo looked truly pained when she revealed why she had come to Kagome’s apartment, and Kagome found her heart going out to this shy woman. And when Kikyo offered to spend time with her, Kagome had been shocked, but also kind of pleased? Because it meant that she would have company, but also...that the company would be Kikyo.

Kagome was intrigued by her, by this tall, slender, quiet woman with the large dark eyes and the long dark hair. She wanted to know more about her; Kikyo was a college professor, and Kagome was impressed. She’d been appreciative of Kagome’s book collection, and her cooking, and Kagome was appreciative of Kikyo’s baking skills.

There was also something...Kikyo had confessed to Kagome that her last relationship didn’t work out, but was evasive on the details. Kagome couldn’t help but wonder why. Kikyo had seemed to hint at the fact that she and Inyuasha were incompatible, even though they remained friends. Kagome, for her part, had expressed her pain at Shiori leaving her for a man, and she felt like maybe she and Kikyo had bonded a little over that?

Kagome went into the bedroom, and changed into the outfit that she’d laid out on the bed. She had chosen a forest green crushed velvet dress, cut low in the front, with cap sleeves and an a-line skirt; she paired with a pair of lacy black tights and black flats. She thought perhaps she was overdressed, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but want to look nice for Kikyo. As she pulled on her tights, she found herself hoping that Kikyo would compliment her on her outfit; Kagome blushed at the thought, but pushed that out of her head as she drew the dress delicately over her head, and then slipped on her shoes. She stood in front of her mirror and spun around once, admiring the way that her skirt billowed about her prettily.

She then went into the bathroom, where she brushed her hair until it shone; she applied minimal makeup, focusing on a dark cat eye, mascara, and shiny lip gloss. She put her products away, then went into the living room, where she got the last part of her outfit. While in there, she cast a look around and took a deep breath.

Kagome had plans for Kikyo. She hoped...she hoped that Kikyo would be responsive to those plans. She really did.

Kagome busied herself in the kitchen; she set the table in the living room, then went about checking her risotto, popping the salmon in the oven, and sauteeing her green beans. All too soon, there was a soft knock at the door, and Kagome paused, took a deep breath, and smoothed her dress. 

When Kagome opened the door, Kikyo was standing there, smiling softly, two boxes stacked in her hands. Gone was the awkwardness of a few days before; it was replaced by a warm face and gentle eyes. And, she looked...beautiful. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a simple bun, but there were loose tendrils hanging about her face. Her face was fresh, also with minimal makeup, but Kagome thought she detected a hint of lip gloss on Kikyo’s lips, making them shine a deep rose. She wore a creamy white sweater, black trousers, and, like Kagome, black flats. 

“Hi,” Kagome breathed. She had forgotten how to talk.

“Hi,” Kikyo breathed right back. They stood in the doorway for a long moment, staring at each other, neither able to move. Finally, Kagome blinked, shook her head, and the moment was over.

“Come in?” she asked.

Kikyo smiled. “Thanks,” she said, Kagome moved aside as Kikyo stepped into the apartment. 

“You’re wearing a Santa hat,” Kikyo said.

Kagome giggled, reaching up to rub the soft fur of the edging of her favorite Santa hat. She thought she looked absolutely adorable; she hoped that Kikyo thought so too.

As they stepped into the living room, Kikyo gasped; Kagome had decorated the apartment with twinkling white lights, outlining the doorways, and running the lights along the tops of the walls. That, combined with the sparkling color of the Christmas tree lights, made for a nice, festive glow. A soft piano played in the background. 

“It looks so nice in here,” Kikyo murmured.

Kagome smiled. “You bet,” she said. “I wanted to make the apartment pretty for you.”

“And the music is…”

“Too loud?” asked Kagome anxiously.

“Just right,” Kikyo smiled. She paused, then held out her boxes. “One of these is for you,” she said nervously. “In the other...I made dessert.”

Kagome accepted the boxes. “It sounds like they’re both for me,” she replied in a lightly teasing tone, and Kikyo blushed. She set the smaller box on the table, opened the larger one, and gasped. “You made all this?” she said wonderingly.

Kikyo leaned over and looked in the box. “I did,” she replied. “It’s a toffee cake,” she said, a little sheepishly. “I made a cranberry bourbon sauce and real whipped cream. The sauce and the whipped cream need to go in the refrigerator, but we can leave the cake out on the counter? Just in the box.”

“It’s perfect!” Kagome exclaimed, and Kikyo beamed. Kagome led the way into the kitchen, and did as Kikyo instructed: she put the whipped cream and the sauce in the refrigerator, and then set the cake on the kitchen counter.

“Kagome,” said Kikyo, “it smells so good in here!”

“Thank you,” Kagome replied, blushing. “I have to just finish up a few things here; the risotto and the salmon need to come out of the oven, and the green beans have to go into a bowl.”

“Can I help?” Kikyo asked, already rolling up her sleeves.

Kagome smiled. “I’d like that.”

The women set about finishing up dinner; Kikyo plated the green beans, then took the salmon out of the oven and covered it to let it rest, while Kagome took the risotto out of the oven, added a little more heated chicken stock to the risotto, and stirred it as she added some frozen peas and diced red peppers. Kikyo watched appreciatively, but neither woman chose to spoke. There was a comfortable silence passing between them, and Kagome felt both a warmth and a tightening spreading through her chest. She wondered if Kikyo felt the same.

“Risotto’s ready,” Kagome said, and turned off the burner. She turned to Kikyo. “Do you want to put this on the table? I’ll get the salmon and the green beans?” She handed Kikyo two potholders; their fingers brushed against each other, and Kagome felt a gentle hum of electricity, and nearly dropped them when she touched Kikyo. 

“You okay?” Kikyo asked, her dark eyes concerned.

“I’m fine,” Kagome murmured. She blushed. Damn! She couldn’t believe how far gone she was. Just from a touch? She nearly swooned from a brush of fingertips?

Kikyo still looked concerned, but took the potholders, picked up the risotto, and went into the living room. Kagome picked up the green beans bowl and several serving utensils, brought them to the table, then returned to slice up the salmon and pour some wine. 

“White okay?” she called. When Kikyo said that yes, white was fine, Kagome poured out two glasses, then reached into the refrigerator and took out the water pitcher, and poured out two waters as well. She returned the pitcher, then brought all four glasses into the living room, setting them on the table.

Together, Kikyo and Kagome arranged the table; Kikyo moved her gift for Kagome to the passthrough; Kagome had bought some festive Christmas flowers that she set in the middle. Kagome served up the meal; Kikyo set the glasses out; they sat down and toasted before they dug in.

Kagome had to admit; she had outdone herself with this meal. The salmon was tender, and flaky; the green beans had just the amount of bite; and the risotto was perfectly fluffy and al dente. It had been awhile since she really cooked for anyone else, and Kagome couldn’t keep herself from grinning over the meal. Between the twinkling lights, the soft Christmas music, the delicious food, and her charming company, Kagome felt completely content.

For the first time in a long time. Was it Kikyo who had brought light back into her life? Who had made her want to celebrate Christmas again? 

Yes, perhaps it was. The thought made Kagome smile even more broadly.

“You look happy,” Kikyo commented in between bites of risotto.

“I am ,” Kagome said. “This is a good meal.”

“It’s one of the best I’ve ever had,” Kikyo said enthusiastically. She paused. “Thank you for having me,” she added softly.

“Tch,” Kagome said, “thank you for keeping me company on Christmas Eve.”

“It’s one of the nicer Christmas Eves I’ve had,” Kikyo admitted.

Kagome smiled. “Me, too.”

They grew quiet again after that, each lost in their own thoughts, their own memories of Christmas Eves in the past, and thinking of Christmas Eves in the future. When they finished their dinner, they cleaned up and rinsed the dishes before loading them in the dishwasher. Kagome put the leftovers in containers, and moved them to the refrigerator. When she was done, she turned to Kikyo and smiled.

“I’m pretty full for now,” she said, “but how about if we sit in the living room and finish our wine while we wait to be hungry enough for that amazing cake?”

Kikyo smiled back. “That sounds perfect,” she said. Kagome went into the living room, but she noticed that Kikyo lingered for a moment, taking the smaller, box she had brought with her off the passthrough. Kikyo then followed Kagome, stopping at the table to get her wine. 

Kagome was sitting by the tree; her hair shone, a dark prism, against the colored lights. Her eyes gleamed a steely gray, and her lips were a full, pouty, dusky rose. She heard Kikyo’s breath catch, and her own heart started beating out of rhythm. Kikyo was resplendent in her cream sweater, with her shining cheeks, pink from the heat of dinner and from the wine. Kagome couldn’t help but feel as though Kikyo was an angel, a Christmas angel, a gift just for her .

If Kagome could just reach out and accept her.

Kagome smiled gently, and patted the spot beside her. “Come sit with me,” she said, and Kikyo instantly obeyed, setting her wine on the coffee table and then moving to sit beside her. Kagome reached under the tree, and from around the back, she pulled out a small wrapped gift. She held it out to Kikyo, her eyes lowered. “I got you a little something,” she whispered. “I hope you will accept it.”

Kikyo let out a little gasp of surprise, and started to giggle. “I...got you something too,” she said, and handed Kagome the small box she’d brought with her. “Maybe...we can open these on the count of three?”

Kagome grinned. “Sure,” she replied, and they exchanged gifts. “One...two…”

“Three!” they said together, and began unwrapping their gifts. As they removed the paper, they both laughed and squealed with the excitement of little girls. When the paper was removed, they paused, looking at their gifts, then up at each other, their faces soft and shining with happiness.

“Kagome,” Kikyo whispered, running her fingers over her gift. It was a beautiful, fabric-covered journal; the fabric was a deep purple, with red and gold embroidered stars. When she opened it, she found that the pages were thick, and a creamy gold.

“It’s handmade,” Kagome said, pleased that Kikyo liked her gift so much. “I thought you could use something to take notes in, or just to...you know...write?”

Kikyo looked up, and Kagome saw that her eyes were teary. “Thank you,” she whispered, clutching the journal to her breast. “I absolutely love it.”

Kagome smiled, and blushed a little, pleased that her gift had gone over so well. She looked down at her own gift, and eep’ed in pleasure. “What is this?” she asked Kikyo, her eyes bright and wondering.

Kikyo smiled too, tears still clinging to her eyelashes. “That’s a good place to start if  you want to know about philosophy,” she said. “About women philosophers, anyway.”

Kagome turned the book over in her hands gently. “The Philosopher Queens,” she murmured. She looked at the back, read the cover, then looked up at Kikyo. “Thank you,” she said, leaning forward earnestly. “I can’t wait to read it.”

Kikyo blushed and looked around awkwardly. “Should we sit on the couch?” she asked. 

Kagome smiled and reached out to take Kikyo by the arm, pulling her back gently. “Wait,” she said softy, and Kikyo turned to her, a questioning look playing across her face.

“I have...really enjoyed getting to know you these past few days, Kikyo,” Kagome said. Her fingers squeezed Kikyo’s arm gently, the feel of Kikyo’s sweater so soft and seductive.

Kikyo smiled. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, too, Kagome,” she replied.

Kagome closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes again. “Is it presumptuous of me to think that maybe...there might be something between us?” she asked. 

Kikyo’s eyes were soft, gentle, thoughtful. “I...don’t know,” she said at last. Kikyo’s left hand ran up the right sleeve of her sweater; when she came into contact with Kagome’s hand, Kikyo covered it and applied a gentle pressure. Kagome’s breath hitched; a faint blush swept up her neck and blossomed over her cheeks. 

Commissioned Artwork by kalcia

“Do you...do you think that...after tonight...you might want to have dinner with me sometime?” Kagome asked, breathless.

Kikyo chuckled. “We had dinner, Kagome. Tonight. And the night before that. And before that.”

“No,” Kagome said, shocked by the passion seeping into her tone, “I mean like dinner. At a restaurant. Where I pay, but I don’t cook.” Her eyes softened. “I would very much like to do that with you.”

Kikyo flushed, her eyes cast down. “I...I think that I would like that,” she replied, her voice sounding a little distant, but also full of emotion. She shifted so that she was looking down at Kagome, who gazed up at her heatedly. Steely gray met warm brown; they held each other’s gaze for a moment, then Kagome’s eyes drifted upward.

“I think—I think I may have tricked you a little,” she said in a slightly choked voice. She looked back at Kikyo, then back at the tree. Kikyo’s eyes followed Kagome, and grew big at what they saw.

“What do you think, Kikyo?” Kagome asked. “Do you...want to take a chance...on me?”

Kikyo moved her hand from her arm (and from Kagome’s hand); she followed the length of her own arm, then trailed up Kagome’s arm, shivering at the contact between their skin. She rubbed the crushed velvet of Kagome’s dress, and dragged her nails gently across Kagome’s collarbone, up her neck, and to her jawline, where she shifted her fingers so she could hold Kagome’s chin softly. She turned Kagome’s face up to hers; Kagome could see the same want, the same need, in Kikyo’s eyes.

Instead of answering, Kikyo tilted Kagome’s chin so she was looking up at Kikyo. Kagome’s lips parted slightly in response; she closed her eyes as Kikyo crossed the distance between them and pressed her lips to Kagome’s.

Kagome moaned quietly as her lips came into contact with Kikyo’s; Kikyo’s lips were gentle, and soft, and Kagome couldn't help it; she rubbed her lips against Kikyo’s, a warmth blooming in her chest and spreading throughout her body. Her hands went to Kikyo’s shoulders, then wrapped around Kikyo’s back; Kagome pulled Kikyo a little bit closer, suddenly feeling a need to have her closer. When Kikyo moaned softly, Kagome slipped her tongue between Kikyo’s lips, exploring Kikyo’s mouth, searing it with her heat, wrapping Kikyo’s tongue up in her own. She pulled Kikyo tighter, closer, nearer; the heat of their kiss was burning Kagome up, slowly, and she felt that she needed Kikyo, wanted to be with Kikyo, desperately, and, immediately.

Kikyo broke the kiss first; she rested her forehead against Kagome’s, breathing slightly heavily. “That...that was…” she whispered.

“Amazing,” breathed Kagome. She tilted her lips up for another kiss, and Kikyo granted it eagerly. They sat there, wrapped up in each other, wrapped up in their kiss, in the sparkling magic of the evening, of Christmas Eve, and of the promise of the future.

When they at last broke apart, Kikyo held Kagome close against her chest. Kagome felt the rise and fall of Kikyo’s breasts, and nuzzled her face into Kikyo’s sweater, into her breasts. She heard Kikyo chuckle, and looked up.

“You know,” Kikyo said, still laughing lightly, “I would have kissed you, regardless. I didn’t need any convincing.” 

She looked up, and so did Kagome. They stared at the mistletoe that Kagome had hung above them. Kagome smiled sheepishly.

“I didn’t want to miss my chance,” she said with a little shrug.

Kikyo laughed. “I wouldn’t let you miss any chances,” she assured Kagome, bending down for another kiss. As they sat there, wrapped up in each other, lips barely touching, Kikyo whispered, “Thank you.”

“What for?” Kagome whispered back.

“For helping me find joy on Christmas,” Kikyo whispered back.

Kagome smiled. “You helped me find joy, too,” she said softly, “right at my front door.” And she pressed her lips to Kikyo’s once more.