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Artwork by tmetta
Boys really need to listen to their mother. Yes, her Sesshōmaru had always been a good boy, but when it came to life and love, he never listened.
“Give it time.” InuKimi’s wife placed a gentle hand on hers. “You’ve said yourself, he has always been a late bloomer.”
“I often wonder if his father’s and my divorce affected him more than he tells us.” InuKimi could feel the wrinkles form around her mouth. She did not enjoy that crinkled feeling. “It is not my fault we have the same taste in women and the same distaste in men.”
Kikyō giggled and rolled her eyes. She always seemed to do that when InuKimi reminisced in such a way. Both of them loved this tea house, with the Japanese garden in the back and the secluded tables situated in the bay windows. It was a perfect spot, the right type of place for a date with your wife to complain about your son.
It was a wonder that she and Tōga were able to create even a single progeny together, but so was the way of Inu daiyōkai. One child as heir was enough to satisfy the kami, and enough to move on with your life (quickly). Sesshōmaru never did seem to appreciate that his parents loved each other: they even liked each other, but they just had really no desire for all the rest. Tōga and InuKimi both adored gentle women with long raven black hair and soft brown eyes, a propensity that they shared, and a propensity that ultimately doomed their own union.
“And yet here you are, a victim of meddling parents, meddling,” Kikyō sighed. InuKimi reminded herself that she liked Kikyō’s straight-shooting logic. Even when it was aimed at her. She married this woman, after all.
“And those same meddling parents are beginning to talk about eligible Inu women for a son who is so clearly uninterested,” InuKimi groaned. “And Sesshōmaru rejecting all those daughters would do terrible things to my ability to get a tee time.”
“You don’t golf.”
“Hypothetically I could take up golfing, and then where would I be?” InuKimi would not let her wife’s logic ruin this most excellent rant. “I enjoy my connections, and would rather not have a petulant son fray them for me.”
“I wonder where he got that petulance from.”
“I still have the number of Tōga’s and my divorce lawyer. I hear they have a buy one get one half-off special…” InuKimi’s words crashed against Kikyō’s knowing smile. Yes yes, she loved the way her wife could read her like an open book—she did—but finding one so immune to her barbs had drawbacks. Such as amused smiles at divorce threats.
“What if Sesshōmaru doesn’t like women?” Kikyō offered, then picked up the bone china teacup and sipped on the floral jasmine she had chosen, finally the ideal temperature for sipping.
“Then he could be a good son and tell that to his mother,” InuKimi retorted. “It’s not as if I have not offered him opportunity.”
“I am not entirely sure I want to know what that means.” Kikyō quirked her eyebrow. “If my parents had tried to come and ask me who I was attracted to, I would have been mortified.”
“Fine. Perhaps I did not leave the door as open as I should have, but—but Tōga has finally settled on a date for his wedding to Izayoi and I’ve had no fewer than six phone calls from distant relations asking if Sesshōmaru is seeing anyone,” InuKimi huffed. “And I would very much like those phone calls to stop.”
“So this is not about your son finding the love of his life.” Shoot. It was the all-knowing I-can-read-you-like-a-book look that Kikyō always got when she got to the bottom of InuKimi’s angst. “It’s about lessening the inconveniences on you.”
“My future ex-wife is cruel.” It was a testament to their relationship that Kikyō did not so much as flinch at InuKimi’s jab.
“Is he being harassed by people too?” Kikyō asked, the flicker of interest in her eyes was enough of an opening that InuKimi leaned in. Perhaps if she played her cards right, she would recruit a co-conspirator in this plot.
“In our world, the people you know can mean everything. If many people have made offers for dates for Sesshōmaru and he rejects them all, he will hurt his own prospects for the future. Inus are long-lived and capable of holding grudges for centuries. But he has been so aloof for so long I don’t think he thinks about the gravity of his choices.” InuKimi was only being a little theatrical (and her words were the truth). “I would rather him bring someone entirely unsuitable to the wedding than come alone. Unsuitable mates are the whimsy of youth, easily forgiven with a chuckle. Alone is a definitive rejection.”
“So you’re going to force your son into a date to protect his reputation.” The edge of amusement still cut through Kikyō’s voice, but it was softening. The winds of the discussion were changing.
Then, a scent. One that InuKimi both knew far too well and one that still could make her turn her head wafted into the small room.
“How are you liking your tea?” The waitress—no, owner—of the tea shop appeared. She was carrying a green cast iron kettle in her arms. One that hinted at a spent mint tea from another customer. Her hair was tied back in a bun, save for a messy set of bangs that never seemed capable of settling down entirely. She wore a handsome button-down shirt and black slacks of the waitstaff, but her aura always did project a sophistication that exceeded the plebian outfits of the place.
She had soft brown eyes and a gentle smile, and her scent always reminded InuKimi of a soft breeze wafting through a rose garden. Entirely pleasant, entirely comely, entirely…
“Are you single?”
InuKimi did not need to see Kikyō’s face to know that if looks could talk, hers would be yelling at the moment. And she did not miss the way that her quarry’s eyes widened at her question. Who could blame her? One of her well-to-do customers had just asked an extremely personal question while on a date with her wife.
Perhaps InuKimi was being a bit too forward.
“My son Sesshōmaru must attend his father’s wedding,” InuKimi continued. “Since he’s seen fit to ignore the requests of no less than half my acquaintances’ daughters, I would be much obliged if he could bring a fine young woman to the wedding, so he does not leave any of these women feeling scorned.” InuKimi smirked as a blush began to rise on the woman’s face. “You’ll do nicely.”
“Ex—excuse me?” The woman bit her lip, but she did not retreat. Kikyō had buried her head in her teacup: it was cute.
“Of course we won’t let you go uncompensated,” InuKimi reasoned. “Indeed, I am in charge of the bridal shower, and your tea house is so utterly charming. If you agree to attend with my son, we will have the shower he—”
A hand darted over InuKimi’s mouth, and when she looked up, her wife carried a look of wrath so powerful that InuKimi stopped talking.
“You are not bribing this poor girl into accepting a date with your son,” Kikyō hissed. She then turned her eyes to the hapless waitress—owner—and smiled kindly. “It seems my wife has made up her mind to use your venue for the shower, if you are amenable. With. no. ulterior. motives. If you have availability for a private party sometime in the month of July?”
“Oh, thank you! Um. Yes, we do and would be happy for your business.” The woman was blushing slightly; her embarrassment somehow made her floral scent all the more appealing. “I inherited this place from my grandfather and am still catching up, but yes! We are happy to do it!”
“What’s your name, dear?” InuKimi was not going to lose this chance all because Kikyō had a sense of shame.
“Ka—Kagome. Kagome Higurashi.”
“This is a picture of my son, Sesshōmaru.” Before Kikyō could stop her, she pulled up a picture on her phone. It was a nice shot: Sesshōmaru sitting on an oceanside cliff watching the sun set. “He graduated top of his class from Stanford and is already running a business. He knows several languages, enjoys opera, and has a nose for cooking.” The woman’s scent spiked at Sesshōmaru’s picture; this was good! “His father is marrying his stepmother. It’s a stuffy family affair, but being his date would mean fun and food and music.” InuKimi leaned in; she could read the woman’s interest. “Really, what do you have to lose?”
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“I succeeded, did I not?” InuKimi smirked as they closed the car doors. “My son will now have a date for his father’s wedding.”
“You made that poor woman so uncomfortable,” Kikyō lamented, but InuKimi noticed that the smile had not left her face.
“You were missing at least half the information,” InuKimi crooned. “The very moment that Kagome saw Sesshōmaru, her scent changed. She went from apprehensive to intrigued.”
“Are you sure that that wasn’t due to the bridal shower magically getting scheduled for her tea house?”
“This tea house is charming, and it has been charming since we first started coming here. I killed two birds with one stone.”
“You made it seem like one bird was dependent on the other.”
Kikyō needed to stop sounding so skeptical! Her human nose would never be able to pick up the nuances of emotion that were carried in scents.
It was how InuKimi realized that Kikyō was checking her out, because to an Inu daiyōkai, aloofness in humans is adorable and oh-so-transparent.
“Want to make a bet?” InuKimi raised her eyebrow and looked at her wife; Kikyō would not look at her while driving, but InuKimi did not miss the line forming at the edge of her lips.
“What about?” Kikyō enunciated each syllable carefully.
“That my son is going to have a wonderful time with Kagome and begrudgingly accept that his mother has excellent taste in women.” InuKimi tried not to sound smug; she failed. “And when I win, you’ll finally let me dress you up in that kimono I got for you on our honeymo—”
“That’ll do!” Kikyō’s blush was always a gentle blush, still demure even when reminiscing about a honeymoon that was anything but demure… “If I win, then you will stop trying to meddle in your son’s love life and let him find himself.”
“Deal.”
InuKimi wasn’t all that worried.
And she couldn’t wait to see Kikyō in that kimono again…
“No.”
“You have not even given your mother a chance.”
“My mother has pimped me out to the lowest bidder.”
“So cruel, my son.”
“No.”
Sesshōmaru had decades of experience with his mother. He was supportive when she married her wife, and he humored her entirely when she grumbled that his father needed to find a good woman, too.
What he was not okay with was her meddling in his love life.
“You do realize that I’ve saved you from all sorts of discomfort, do you not?” His mother’s voice had turned shrewd. “Arriving with a date will help you avoid the conversations about this or that fine bred Inu who is of marriageable age.”
“Just because you do not know how to avoid those conversations does not mean that I don’t.” Sesshōmaru was over this conversation already.
“Ah yes, when my hostile and aloof son directly shirks my friends’ daughters, and then sends all complaint phone calls to me.” There was an edge of irritation to his mother’s voice. “It certainly allows you to avoid the conversation.”
“You are being ridiculous.” Sesshōmaru sipped on his tea, trying to hide his annoyance that his mother had made a valid point. “And didn’t you marry Father because of this meddling?”
“I would not have my delightful son had I married anyone other than your father,” InuKimi answered. The edge of irritation was gone, replaced with the detached fondness that was her most potent weapon, mainly because his mother did not seem aware of deploying it. “You, on the other hand…”
“Will not be manipulated into taking a—” Something filled the air of the room. The scent of saffron and rose. Sesshōmaru looked around the table, trying to find where it had come from. When his eyes finally met the source, it was not a teapot, but a person.
Her hair was tied back in a braid that trailed down her shoulder; her cheeks were pink and full; and her eyes, curtained by eyelashes, were a gentle brown. There was something alluring about her, soft and tender, yet exotic. Like the rose and saffron that laced her scent.
“Kagome, dear!” His mother’s voice made clear the trap. “Please come and join us!”
Sesshōmaru was going to kill his mother for this.
“Oh! Oh, I apologize, but I am short-handed today and cannot spare the time.” She looked apologetic, even as she was shooting furtive glances in Sesshōmaru’s direction.
Her full eyebrows pinched from some internal conflict, until finally they relaxed, and she settled her eyes on Sesshōmaru. With a minute nod, she strode over to their table, her eyes—chocolate opals—never leaving Sesshōmaru’s.
“I know that is much to discuss with—um—both of you, so…” Kagome pulled a pen and notepad out of a pocket in her skirt, and began to scribble. “Here is my contact information, to plan for the shower and—” A rose-colored blush creeped to her cheeks and ears. “And maybe the wedding, too.”
With a swish, Kagome was then gone, two copies of her phone number sitting on the table between the bone china teacups. Sesshōmaru followed the note upward, until… he made the mistake of making eye contact with his mother.
“She’s a nice girl, wouldn’t you say?” Sesshōmaru was going to disown his mother. “Very pleasant to the senses.” Sesshōmaru was going to disown his mother and then move to the moon. “A truly wonderful companion for a wedding, so so soothing.” He had never been so embarrassed to share his mother’s keen sense of smell. “But I suppose you could leave that phone number on the table, and break your poor mother’s heart by making her do the dirty work of rejecting all those nice Inu daughters vying for your hand.”
Sesshōmaru took the piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket. “Not one word.”
Both he and his mother sipped their tea in silence, the aroma of smugness choking the rose and saffron-filled air.
“Smile a bit more.” InuKimi nudged at her frowning wife’s side. “The kimono looks absolutely wonderful on you.”
“I can’t believe you won that bet,” Kikyō grumbled, adjusting the obi around her waist and looking beautiful, albeit petulant (which made her all the more beautiful).
“Sometimes we just know,” InuKimi commented.
Even she had not expected Sesshōmaru and Kagome to start dating before the wedding, or to find her son unexpectedly in the tea shop nearly half the time she and Kikyō arrived.
And seeing the smile on Sesshōmaru’s face as he looked at his wedding date had stopped the phone calls before they even came. Inus could recognize blossoming love when it was worn so obviously and joyously.
It had been a risk, a calculated one, but a risk all the same, but when Kagome’s aroma filled her nostrils and her face lit with smiles that came from her soul, InuKimi thought she was seeing Kikyō’s twin.
She would never tell Sesshōmaru this, but she was overjoyed to know that she and her son had the same taste in women.