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“What the—” Kagome stared at the pale blue envelope in her mailbox. For Kagome, the card said, one who deserves more holiday cheer than most. Inside the card was $200.
She looked around, trying to find the secret eyes that she knew had to be watching her find the surprise. She didn’t know what to do. On one hand, a girl accepting a mysterious envelope full of money was the start of so many horror stories; on the other hand, the money was enough to pay off her overdue electricity bill. Enough to keep the lights on, enough that she would not have to eat dollar ramen for a few days while she found the money to pay the bill.
Hell, it was probably even enough for Kagome to buy herself a little something extra, and that meant everything.
Kagome had been an idiot. She had fallen fast and she had fallen hard for a blue-eyed, black-haired, smooth talker. He had said all the right things, touched her in all the right places, and… somehow managed to make her feel like she deserved the cheating, and the insults. But the icing on the cake was the car loan she should never have cosigned.
Bankotsu crashed the fucking car exactly five days after they got it. Because he thought that it would be a hilarious Tik Tok video to have his “friend” cover his eyes while he raced down a twisty and wooded road. It was the day that Kagome learned that cosigning was the same as signing, when Bankotsu’s debt collectors came to collect from her.
Yeah. Bastard cheated on her then ghosted her completely, and she didn’t find out until nearly a year later, when she was trying to apply for an apartment, that her one-year old mistake with a terrible boyfriend had left her with a crater of debt that she didn’t know how to climb out of.
It meant taking on an astronomical security deposit (and more debt), just to keep a mediocre roof over her head.
It meant the graveyard shift at the diner.
And the early-bird shift at the coffee shop.
It meant putting her dreams on hold to survive.
Kagome grabbed the envelope, and she clasped it to her heart, in case the maybe serial killer was watching, because right now she needed the money so so much, and that was worth maybe getting put into a punishment dungeon.
She would pay the bills then take the little remaining money to a thrift store and see if she could find a little something for herself. It would be nice to have at least one present under her little tree that year. A reminder that she had made it this far.
But right now, she needed to prepare for her overnight shift at the diner. As she had learned, even missing a single day of work could wreck the precisely balanced budgets that kept them afloat. But Kagome had also promised that she would never come into work with the flu. So… she just had to stay healthy from now on. Through sheer force of will.
Unfortunately, that had failed. And she had to stay home from both her jobs for two days, which was enough to make the electric bill late. Enough to make her carefully curated financial house of cards implode.
Then the blue envelope appeared in her mailbox.
Kagome wracked her brain, trying to figure out who might have done this. Her friend Jinenji knew about the money problems, and even tried to help her once, but Kagome wouldn’t let him. He was a horse half-demon on a line cook’s salary. Kagome knew the diner did not pay that well (and she was certain that the owner Renkotsu skimmed off the top), and that Jinenji himself would probably be sacrificing his own food or electricity to help her out, and she wouldn’t have that. A late bill was not dire straits, not when she knew she could pick up a couple extra shifts to make up the money; sleep was for chumps.
“Whoever you are, thank you,” Kagome whispered as she headed down the steps into her basement apartment, the first genuine smile on her face in a long time. “If you’re going to kill me and turn me into a woman suit, please make it quick.”
She headed to work the moment she was changed into her waitress uniform, and threw the duffle bag with her coffee shop uniform into the trunk of her car. It was going to be a long night and day of work, but she would be able to come home to a warm bed and lights that were still working, and that was what mattered.
For Kagome. For a car battery and an AAA membership. This time the pale blue envelope contained $350. Kagome jerked her head around, again looking for the mysterious person who again found a way to lift the giant weight off of her shoulders.
How had the person known? Maybe they had seen her jump her car after her graveyard shift at the diner, or… heard her talking to Shippō at the coffee shop about how expensive one of those insta-jumpers was? That dead batteries were really expensive? Had they overheard Mushin tut-tutting about needing to have AAA for just these occasions (as if a dead battery needing to be jumped every damn day was inside the ‘call AAA’ purview)?
But then, the very next day, the envelope.
She wracked her brain to try and remember who was at the diner when she was cussing out her car. She doubted that the kindly old couple that had jumped her car would be the ones. And the rowdy college kids who had camped out to eat their weight in fried food after bar hopping only paid attention to her tits and her ass.
Who else was there?
Something silver was tugging at the corner of Kagome’s memory, but it wasn’t materializing.
The coffee shop was the standard morning buzz, like it always was. Lattes and black coffees and green tea and half-caf with a splash of hazelnut with oat milks… Kagome was able to make virtually all of them from muscle memory alone, which was good because after the diner she was usually exhausted. Mushin usually let Kagome go home after the morning rush, where she would crash out for the sleep she was allowed to get, before starting up the cycle all over again the following day.
This day’s routine, though, had been interrupted by the choking cough of a car needing to be jump started.
And… $350 in a mysterious pale blue envelope.
“Whoever you are, I really appreciate this.” Kagome spoke again to the wind. “I just wish I knew who you were so I could give you a proper thank you… or just to make sure that you’re not planning on shackling me in your horror basement.”
When there was no answering chuckle (or hellbeast charging from the bushes), Kagome once again turned to head back into her apartment. To sleep, then to shower, then to start all over again, one battery and AAA membership richer.
“This is getting ridiculous!” Kagome saw the pale blue envelope again, five days after the previous one.
For Kagome: because you deserve at least one nice thing, just for you. $100. Less than the other two, but just for her. This one was unexpected, because she had managed to take back control of her careful juggling act. The new battery in her car was working, and the electricity payments were now up to date. She had made enough tips between the diner and the cafe that she was even able to pay down a little bit more principle on the “Bankotsu-Fuck-You” debt. But it was getting close to Christmas, and Kagome couldn’t afford to go see her family, because she couldn’t take the days off.
Did her mystery guardian angel know? She had mentioned it to Jinenji at the diner when he asked about her holiday plans. True, a gift just for her close to Christmas did not completely mean that her secret admirer came to the diner, but it was certainly suspicious. Kagome didn’t like feeling watched, even if this person was swooping in to save the day. She didn’t like wondering if she had talked to this mysterious benefactor that day, or even if they were watching through a slot in the blinds when she made her way to her mailbox. Yes, the murder dungeon seemed unlikely, but… she didn’t know, and that made everything worse.
“I know what I’m going to get myself with this,” Kagome teased the wind, just in case they were listening.
And she did know.
She just hoped that the pale blue envelope guardian angel was not paying too close of attention to her most of the time, so she could get everything set up.
For Kagome. Merry Christmas.
$50. But the gift that this letter had bestowed on Kagome was so much greater than the amount (which was appreciated. It meant that Kagome could get the good Chinese food that day!).
Kagome scrambled into her apartment. To the camera she had ordered and installed. The one with the motion sensor that was uploading to her 7-year old laptop.
The camera that hopefully caught the culprit.
Kagome opened the app and replayed the past hour. The camera had triggered three times; Kagome played the recordings. First up was a cat that seemed to decide that the spot right in front of her mailbox was the most luxurious nap spot in the universe, and spread itself out to sleep. It brought a smile to Kagome’s face, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. She fast-forwarded the video. Next, it was a squirrel scampering along the sidewalk. That also brought a smile to her face, but it was also not what she was looking for.
No. Kagome needed to see the maybe guardian angel, maybe serial killer. She fast forwarded past the squirrel, then waited. There was only one more trigger, so either she would see who it was or the person was a vampire (...did vampires appear in photographs, or was it only a mirror thing?).
Finally, she hit the black screen that separated the triggers. It was time. This was it! Why did it make her so nervous? Why did it almost feel like she was violating the person’s privacy, even after they started giving her little gifts based on overhead conversations about her struggles?
Because the person had chosen to remain anonymous. Because Kagome could have left the pale blue envelope in her own mailbox and asked the person to come and see her. But instead, she had bought a security camera from their gift to spy.
It was too late now. Because someone had entered the field of view. He was tall, very tall, and he had silver hair tied back in a braid that blended into the white and red sweater that he wore. His face was partially obscured by a scarf, and he wore a pair of dark red glasses, but his pointed ears and just-visible fuchsia stripes above the scarf on his cheeks told Kagome that he was a demon.
The man stopped at Kagome’s mailbox, then looked around, sniffing as much as scanning. He then pulled a pale blue envelope out of his pocket, stuffed it into Kagome’s mailbox, then glided away without so much as a second look.
“You…” Kagome tried to keep surprise out of her voice, even though she was alone. “You?”
She knew this man. He was a regular at the diner. He sat in a corner booth by himself and ordered nothing but a black coffee, then pulled out a newspaper and read. He barely interacted, and never over-tipped (leaving a sensible 20% on the $2.00 coffee…). Kagome didn’t really interact with him; she mostly just brought over his coffee and let him be.
He was the one who was leaving her money in those pale blue cards?
Kagome almost didn’t believe it. Maybe it was just someone who looked identical to the man who… came into the diner under an invisibility cloak to listen in. Maybe someone had convinced the man to be their ringer. Maybe…
She had to confirm it was him, and he had to know why he was doing this for her. Hell, she didn’t even know the man’s name.
“That’s going to change,” Kagome assured herself and she closed the laptop lid to get ready for the night.
The graveyard shift at the diner had just become a whole lot more interesting.
“Hi.” Kagome didn’t even have to ask whether the man knew she knew. She could tell from the wide-eyed look on his face the moment she made eye contact. So… like any good waitress, she did not beat around the bush. “Um, can we talk outside for a moment?”
Artwork commission by imjaneees
The man nodded, and he set his newspaper down, then followed Kagome out the door into the frosty December air.
“I just want to know why,” Kagome started; no sense in beating around the bush. “Oh, uh… and thank you, so much.” She probably should have led with the thank you. Thankfully, a mild smile dusted the man’s face. “I used the gift one to get a camera, because I really wanted to know who you were.”
“Oh.” Was that a blush that painted the bridge of his nose? The smile he still wore, though, turned sad. “You put it to good use, I see.”
“I’m a regular gumshoe,” Kagome teased. “But seriously, I really really appreciate it, but… why? I’m just a waitress who gives you coffee.”
“Because it is something that feels good.” The sadness in the man’s eyes grew deeper, and had begun to spread across his face as well. “Good deeds to deserving people… makes the day worth it.” There was something about the dark fog that laced the man’s golden eyes. Something to the way that he stared through her, as if he was looking at invisible people just beyond Kagome’s vision. Then he focused back on Kagome, and a flicker of light broke through the darkness in his eyes. “You are one of the first to find me out. Perhaps I underestimated technology this time around.”
Something about the way he said ‘technology’ stuck in Kagome’s mind like a burr. She looked once more at the man’s clothing. It was… dated, as if he had been wearing the same thing since the 1920s, although it was pristine. He didn’t seem to have a phone or an iPad like everyone else, preferring the newspaper. He never paid with a credit card, either, always laying down cash for his coffee.
It was rude. Kagome knew it was rude. But demons were known to live for millennia, and something about this man made it feel like he was someone misplaced in time. She had to know.
“How… old are you?” Out of her mouth it tumbled, there in the snow. The man winced at the question, but didn’t frown. No, it was something else. Something more profound than the seasonal blues that so many suffered when alone for the holidays.
“I have lived since feudal times,” he murmured.
“Is that why you look so lonely?” That was the word. Lonely. This man looked desperately lonely, and Kagome was absolutely certain that every time she saw him in the diner, he was alone. He read his paper. He sipped his coffee. Never with another; it was entirely possible that the only person he had spoken to in that diner for months was Kagome, when she took his order, asked if he wanted anything else, and brought him his bill.
The man nodded.
“Humans are fleeting,” he scowled. “To befriend or love one is to be doomed to grief.” There was no doubt anymore: this man was desperately lonely. “Family die, friends die, and still I remain.”
“So you keep your distance,” Kagome added. “And take joy in moments instead of relationships?” His beautiful golden eyes fixed on hers, recognition bubbling up in them. He made to reply, but Kagome cut him off. “Because you’re afraid of the pain of losing someone?”
“I have lost someone,” he answered. “Many, many someones. Hundreds of years before you were born. Moss grows over their graves while I still walk the earth.” He took one step backward, away from Kagome. “It is just easier this way.”
Kagome frowned. She wasn’t going to let this man, who, through pale blue cards and cash, had saved her, who seemed to have accepted loneliness as his lot in life, walk away. She lunged forward and she grabbed his hand.
“Do you know why humans adopt pets?” Kagome tightened her grip the moment he tried to pull his hand away. “Dogs live, what, 15 years? Cats live 20 if we’re lucky? Hamsters…” She smiled when the man stopped trying to escape. “Because we make memories with them. And then we carry them with us for the rest of our lives. Adopting a pet is accepting grief.”
“Are you currently comparing humans to pets?” His voice had lost its frustration, but it was still heavy.
“Only in the sense of different lifespans,” Kagome cooed. “If I could afford a cat, I would get one. Even knowing that there is going to be a day that I need to say goodbye to them.” She squeezed the man’s hand. “It’s far better than being lonely.” Kagome could swear that his eyes misted over at the same moment he snapped his head away from her. It made her wonder… “How long have you been alone?”
“I… cannot remember.”
“Maybe then.” Kagome tilted her head to get back in the man’s field of view. “The reason that you feel so sad is because you stopped letting yourself cherish new friendships and new loves with humans. Because you were so afraid of saying goodbye.”
“Are you attempting to convince me to become your friend?” He scoffed, but Kagome was not fooled. It was bluster. He was hopeful, and maybe even frightened of that hope.
“Either that or adopt a cat,” Kagome teased, pleased to see the man’s expression lighten. “Though I can’t guarantee that a cat would be fond of a dog demon.”
His answering chuckle was music to her ears.
“I… suppose it might be a pleasant change of pace to become someone’s friend again.” The man rubbed his chin.
“I only have two conditions.” Kagome was probably pressing her luck again, but she thought she might know the perfect way to pay him back for his generosity.
“Oh. Um—” He winced, but Kagome cut him off once more, with another reassuring squeeze to his hand.
“The first… if you don’t have plans, is to accept my invitation for Christmas dinner,” Kagome beamed. “I make an excellent beef stew that I would love to share.”
“What is the second condition?” More hope had come into this man’s voice.
“I want to know your name,” Kagome said. “If you agree to these conditions, then tell it to me.” She looked into his golden eyes. “That’s all I need. Because… I think it would be amazing to get to be your friend.”
She wasn’t going to say this now, but with his willowy figure, moonspun hair, intense golden eyes, and ethereal aura (not to mention understated thoughtfulness), well… this is how I met your father! certainly had a not completely impossible ring to it. But she didn’t need to think about that now.
“So, my name for your friendship.” His clawed hand continued to stroke his chin. There was playfulness in his eyes, as if hope was the sun come over the horizon, lighting the land as it rose higher. “It’s…” Kagome tried not to look so excited, tried not to betray her own hope. But, she was utterly failing. “It’s Sesshōmaru.”
“Nice to meet you, Sesshōmaru.” Kagome curtsied. “I’m Kagome.”
“I know.” He leaned down and took Kagome’s hand, placing a featherlight kiss across the knuckles, sending electric spikes surging through her body.
Maybe this is how I met your father wasn’t such a lofty dream. True, to Sesshōmaru, her existence was ephemeral, all the more reason to make any time they had together count.
It was the first Christmas in a long time that Kagome was actually looking forward to.