Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.
Routines were easy to fall into and when you were a centuries old demon lord, they were not the easiest of things to shake. Sesshoumaru enjoyed order and peace, perhaps that was why sitting in his favourite teashop every day at the same time and playing shogi with the regulars and sometimes – when there was a lull – the shop owner, was such a balm to his old soul. None there knew him for the demon he was, humans had long ago banished his kind into the deepest realms of their psyche and none looked to closely at what they wouldn’t believe. So he relished his anonymity and his peace, settling into an ancient routine.
Sipping from his steaming cup of jasmine tea, he glanced idly out of the teashop’s window at the streaming parades of people huddled in scarves and bundled in coats face the bitter December wind. At this time of day the shop was generally quite busy, but he was a master of tuning out the humdrum chatter and obliquely similar chitchat of the customers.
A woman took the seat directly behind him, and he repressed the urge to growl at her as she hit him with her handbag as she claimed her seat. No apology. He closed his eyes. he was an iceberg; it was unfeasible to fly into a teashop-crushing human-killing rampage because of one rude woman and her lack of special awareness. He needed some kind of outlet for this. Training in his own private dojo was well and good but he wanted to spar. As much as it chagrined him to admit it, he wanted his ridiculous half-brother to work off some frustration on. But the Hanyou had succumbed to time long ago and Sesshoumaru attempted to revel in his anonymity.
Nobody knew of his position, so he was free to come and go as he liked without concern for the happiness of others or the welfare of his lands. Yet, he longed for the respect that his mere name had once inspired. He longed to be able to snarl, bare his concealed fangs, flaunt his vivid markings.
I am a demon and a lord, none shall control me!
But he was restrained, he mused dispassionately as he was able, he was restrained by the humans that spread like bacteria, leeching away at everything. Blending in, camouflage and the ability to adapt had become his survival yet he longed for the days when he had stood above the rest. Feared and respected as he should be.
As he watched the street, a sudden snow storm stirred the milling cattle into a frenzy and the tides dwindled and separated as the humans took shelter from the snow that fell in unforgiving sheets. Glowering at the humans who milled into a teashop as they impertinently wondered if they might share his table, Sesshoumaru turned back to the window and, in his hand the frail porcelain cup shattered in his suddenly iron grip.
There it was. The end to his anonymity. A red figure twirling in the snow.
In a world where nobody knew him, he’d found the one person who he knew.
He was out of the teashop so fast that it would have been impossible for a human’s eyes to track, and those that saw him leave shied away from possibilities and put it down to their imaginations.
Standing in the street, pale face tilted skywards and arms outstretched, Higurashi Kagome rotated in a small gleeful circle and laughed out loud, her breath misting in front of her.
“Hnn...” Sesshoumaru uttered, warm breath ghosting across her exposed ear, “you always were an oddity.”
Kagome spun round, eyes wide and cheeks red and flustered. “Sesshoumaru!”
Even though there were no markings, even though his hair had lost its silver lustre and gained a sable glow, even though his eyes were now melted chocolate instead of smouldering gold, she was sure it was him. That voice. He was the only person she’d ever met with a voice she felt in her bones.
When he chuckled it was rusty and made her heart stutter in her chest. “You remember,” he breathed, leaning his face down so that they were dangerously close.
“I remember you Sesshoumaru,” she uttered, somehow sensing he needed her to say that.
He closed his eyes in something akin to relief. “At least one of us does... the centuries can kill a personality, little one.”
Kagome blinked and smiled tentatively. “But I’m liking the foundations of a less dangerous Sesshoumaru.”
His eyes snapped open and he grinned crookedly. “Who said anything about harmless?” he pulled at her red coat’s hood disparagingly, “Little Red Riding Hood-san?”
0-0-0
A/N: This was originally posted on dokuga_contest for the oneshot prompt Foundation and placed first.