Chapter Text
The first thing Kagome Higurashi learned about peace was that it was painfully ordinary.
After Naraku fell and the jewel finally disappeared into nothing more than memory and dust, the Bone Eater’s Well went silent. There was no glow. No tug at her soul. No last chance. And honestly, she would have believed the entire thing had been a hallucination if it hadn't been for the blood soaking her clothes and the ache in her bones.
Now that it was over, she didn't know what to do. Suddenly, the life—her real life and very real 17 year-old modern day responsibilities—felt like a joke. An entire year of traipsing around feudal Japan, having swords at her neck, and watching people die. It had been her normal. It had been Sengoku Jidai's normal. But she was in the 21st century now. That sort of thing wasn't normal here. Suddenly, she didn't know what to do. Carrying all of these memories and for what?
In the meantime, she'd greet her family, soak in a hot bath and have dinner. This lapse in magic that the well was dealing with was likely temporary. Completing the jewel had both done and undone at least 50 years worth in chaos and balance. Recalibration was necessary. After all, she was the same way with her powers. It took time and if fate needed time, Kagome would be patient.
The miko pushed herself out of the well. Told herself that as soon as she felt the pull of magic, she'd run back. And it would be the same again. She'd see Inuyasha, Shippo, Sango, Miroku, Kirara. Everything would be back to normal. Her normal. For the voice in the back of her head? Telling her the world had corrected itself and she'd be permanently stuck in her time? She ignored it. Kagome spent years putting her life on the line for a greater purpose, found a new home, built a new family. To rip that all away from her like this? It was unacceptable and cruel. The kami owed a her a debt.
She waited three days for a sign.
After her first night back to Tokyo, Kagome had packed an old duffle with supplies she planned to bring along as soon as the well reopened. As she lied on her bed, eyes staring at her ceiling, the magic never called.
The morning of the second day, Kagome waited inside the well house. Sitting on the stairs, her duffle bag by her feet. Compelling the return of the portal, she stared down at the Bone Eater's well. Before she realized, the sun had set behind her. Souta and her grandpa called her inside for dinner. The miko left the well house, but didn't bring her duffle back with her.
On the third day, Kagome woke up with a start. Magic tugged at her senses, but this sensation was different. Unlike the Bone Eater's Well. And it felt closer. Like the energy source was directly underneath her. Right beneath her room. Her blood ran cold. Clad in her pajamas and raven hair in a disarray, she scrambled downstairs. Wasting no time, she slammed open the shoji screen doors to her living room. And there was Sesshomaru, in all his glory, sipping tea and exchanging pleasantries with her mother. Except something was off. He wasn't wearing his armor or his usual kimono. And he looked older. She pushed at his energy with her reiki. A familiar golden gaze settled on her. And then a rumble.
"Kagome." His eyes were warm with—dare she say—affection. Not typical of the stoic daiyoukai she knew. But his youki responded in tandem with her own energy. Cradling and enveloping. She pulled in her breath as she reveled in the feeling. The warmth. The tug on her soul. Kami, she had missed the feeling.
Tears pricked at her eyes. "Sesshomaru?"
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, but a sudden dimness washed over his eyes. That was when she knew: The past was gone for good.
She hadn't meant to, but her legs had lost all strength. Crumbling to the floor, tears streamed down her face as the reality hit her. As the reality broke her. She never got to grow old with her friends. She never got to say goodbye. And Inuyasha… The one person that had etched himself into her soul. Her best friend and first love. Now he was gone too.
Sesshomaru stepped in before she could sabotage herself further. Other than donning a modern suit, the daiyoukai had not changed much over half a millennia. Citrine eyes familiar and piercing, he simply said, “You are pack.” And then he stayed. So, she endured.
Kagome resumed school. She studied for entrance exams. She threw herself into work because stopping for even a second meant she would have to remember that, after everything she had done to help save the world, she was ripped of her own happy ending.
Years passed. And somehow, even with her atrocious attendance record—which she suspected Sesshomaru had done something but couldn't prove—she went on to high school. Somehow graduated. Even more impressive, she got into Tokyo University. As a way to honor her friends—or maybe even cope with the loss—she went on to become a history major. She wouldn't say she excelled in academics. But with the number of professors that had grown fond of her submissions and work ethic, it was safe to say she was in a much better place academically than she had been in as an adolescent. She didn't know at what point it happened, but somewhere along the line: The former Shikon Miko learned to exist in fluorescent lighting again.
But she should've known better than to accept peace in her life. Just when she thought things would quiet down, another curveball would always find its way to her.
Said curveball came in the form of an email.
It was a peaceful Tuesday morning. 10:14 a.m.
"We regret to inform you that your university housing placement has been rescinded. Expect your placement deposit to be returned within the next ten to fourteen business days. Please direct any inquiries to the Office of Student Life."
She stared at her phone from her corner in the university library. The low scuffle of students scurrying and textbook pages flipping contrasted starkly with the sound of her heart beating in her ears. Rescinded? How was that even possible? She submitted all the paperwork. Everything had been double checked for accuracy, a potential roommate had been listed, and even the deposit for the dormitory placement had been paid. An administrative error, that's what it was. There was no other explanation.
With no time to waste, the miko quickly packed her bag. She had a call to make.
Kagome Higurashi had once stood on a battlefield that would determine the survival of humanity. Modern Tokyo, she found, was far more frightening. After all, not even Naraku had scared her as badly as the thought of being a homeless Tokyo University history major.