Chapter Text
Taisho Inuyasha leaned against the glass doors of the balcony, a glass of Miroku’s secret special “punch” in his hand. He looked around the small apartment and scowled: everywhere he looked, he saw people talking, laughing, eating, drinking. Hugging. Kissing. Playing games.
Having fun on New Year’s Eve.
Which was the last thing Inuyasha was interested in doing.
He’d only come to this stupid party because Miroku had begged, pleaded, and cajoled. He’d gotten down on his knees and said, “Please, Inuyasha, I need at least one person there who is my friend. Sango is inviting half of her school, and won’t let me invite anyone!” And then he’d batted his indigo eyes in a move that Inuyasha was sure had worked on women for years—until Sango, of course, who didn’t take his shit.
Nor did it work on him.
But, he did feel sorry for his friend. Getting married meant a partnership—two people who were supposed to be in it together. And for Inuyasha? He had been all in with Yura; fuck, he’d been ring shopping and everything! But then Yura had dropped two bombs on him: A. she didn’t want to get married, and B. she didn’t want to get married to him. To a hanyou. She was a full youkai, and her family was demanding that she marry another full youkai. So, even though she thought Inuyasha was great in bed and had the best hair she’d ever seen, she was going to agree to meet the full youkai her family had arranged for her to possibly marry. Some asshole named Hiten. Inuyasha looked him up on social media, and fuck, the guy was good-looking. But also probably (no, definitely) an asshole. Yura would have been better off with him, but she was not the kind of girl who would defy her family. That was for sure.
And now, here he was, single at an engagement party (again, on New Years Eve: who does that?) for one of his best friends. Alone, at an engagement party of one of his best friends. He hadn’t gone anywhere by himself, without Yura, in two years. But yet, because Miroku had begged, he’d shown up at this stupid fucking party, which was all about celebrating love and romance and who the fuck knew what else.
Definitely nothing he was interested in celebrating.
So, he stood against the glass, watching the crowd, feeling angry at the world and sorry for himself. His silvery ears that were perfectly perched atop his head drooped; his golden eyes scanned the crowd. He took another sip of Miroku’s punch; it was strong, but not strong enough.
If he was gonna make it through the next two hours, he needed to get drunk. Good and drunk.
Except he didn’t feel like moving anywhere. No. He just wanted to stand there, and wallow, and not talk to a single goddamn person.
But then his eyes came to rest on a woman standing across the room: she was also alone; her eyes were also angry; and her face was also scowling. His face registered a look of shock.
The she was Higurashi Kagome, and she was at an engagement party...alone?
He quickly scanned the crowd; she’d been dating this jagoff named Bankotsu for fucking ever; Inuyasha had met Kagome a few times at couples things he and Yura had done with Miroku and Sango, and Bankotsu and Kagome had always been practically attached at the hip. But now? He didn’t see Bankotsu anywhere, and Kagome was definitely scowling like she was at the party alone.
Inuyasha’s scowl softened to a smile as he watched her. He’d always thought her pretty—gorgeous even. Bankotsu had been a lucky fuck to be dating her; Inuyasha didn’t think that Ban deserved her. She had always been quiet in large groups, but he knew she was sharp—witty, even—and really fucking smart. She and Sango had met in their Master’s program, and while Sango had gone on to teach, Kagome was now doing a PhD in Linguistics somewhere...Sophia U?...he thought maybe. She was studying some kind of European language group? He tried hard to remember what he’d heard from her.
And tonight, at the party? She was enrapturing. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her blue-black hair tumbled about her shoulders, which were bare. Her emerald green tank top was exactly the color he loved to see on her, the ribbing hugging her curves. He could see a sparkly gold necklace around her graceful throat, but her gray eyes were impossibly bored. He knew: she wanted the fuck out of there, just as much as he did.
All of his instincts were crying out to him, telling him to leave his spot against the glass doors and go to her, talk to her, ask her how she was, tell her than Bankotsu was an ass (if they were in fact broken up, which Inuyasha highly suspected, given how he’d literally never seen them apart until tonight), ask her about school, about her life…
About everything.
But his self-inflicted pity party was so great that he was frozen. He couldn’t think; he couldn’t move; fuck, he could barely breathe. Kagome wouldn’t want to talk to him . If Yura hadn’t wanted him—if a full youkai hadn’t been interested in him—then surely a human like Kagome (a beautiful, had-only-dated-other-humans Kagome) wouldn’t be interested in him. A hanyou. Even if Kagome would be willing to give a youaki the time of day, he wasn’t even that, and so his chances with her? Less than zero.
So all he could do was bang his head softly against the glass door, and wish that he had it in him to find out if Kagome was single, available, and interested.
Because, fuck, he thought that maybe? He might be interested in her.
Higurashi Kagome bowed her head over her cup of Miroku’s secret special “punch.” The last place she had wanted to come was an engagement party on New Year’s Eve, even if it was for her friend Sango, who Kagome adored, but who Kagome was also currently very, very envious of. Because Sango had found the right guy, who was willing to go all in with her and give her the promise of a future that Sango deserved.
Kagome sighed. She wished that she had been so lucky.
She’d dated Bankotsu for four years; for four long, mostly wonderful years. But somewhere around the second year? She’d realized that she wanted to be with him forever; that she was ready to marry him and make that lifelong commitment. But Bankotsu never seemed to return her affections. Then, around year three, Kagome started dropping hints that perhaps she would like for them to move in together, and maybe even get married? But he would either ignore her hints outright, or make comments about how much he enjoyed living alone. These comments always irked Kagome, but she continued to bide her time, to be patient, to wait, in hopes that he would eventually come around and realize how much he wanted to be with her, too.
But year three turned into year four, and still Bankotsu hadn’t made any kind of move towards even suggesting they move in together. And Kagome had only met his parents one or twice when they had come into town to visit. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that...she and Bankotsu? They weren’t forever. They weren’t even for next month, or next week.
The hardest part of ending things with him had been the realization that she’d wasted four years of her life. Four years where she could have been doing...well, she wasn’t sure, exactly. Not dating Bankotsu. Playing the field—is that what they called it? Having fun? Being 20-something? Hanging out with her friends? Whatever it is she would have been doing, it wasn’t sitting at home on Friday nights, watching television while Ban played video games, that was for sure.
And now, as Kagome looked around the party, she realized: there weren’t many people there that she knew. Not well enough for her to talk to them, anyway. She felt kind of weird, and shy, and awkward, and like she couldn’t talk to anyone at the party besides Sango if she wanted to.
But then her eyes scanned the room again, and she saw...him.
Taisho Inuyasha.
The sexiest man Kagome had ever seen, with his long, thick, silver hair; his bright, inquisitive golden eyes; his soft, full lips, which he often wore in a scowl; and his tall, muscular form. Her eyes widened, and she looked around the room for Inuyasha’s girlfriend. He and Yura were almost never apart, but yet here, at the party, Kagome didn’t see Yura anywhere, and she had to wonder why that was.
Unless maybe…
Yura and Inuyasha had broken up, too?
Kagome shook her head. It was impossible. Yura was...a beautiful, sassy, girl. And Inuyasha was...well, look at him. They were the perfect couple. She even did his hair in beautiful braids! When she used to see how Yura did up Inuyasha’s hair...fuck. Kagome wished that Yura was her girlfriend!
But now, as she watched Inuyasha’s face at the party, Kagome saw someone who was sad. In pain. Angry. Like this was the last place he wanted to be.
Just like...her.
That thought gave Kagome a little bit of hope. Was it possible that he could be lonely too? That maybe he could use some company? The look on his face—the absolute scowl on his face—suggested to her that the last place she should go was across the room and by his side. But...a little tug at her heartstrings suggested that this was the exact place she should go. That she needed to be by his side; that she needed to check in with him and see how he was doing. Especially if he and Yura had broken up.
Yes, she decided as she went to get more of Miroku’s “special” punch: she would go, and talk to Inuyasha, and see what was going on with him. See if he needed a friend, too.
Kagome filled her cup, took a big swig of punch, then steeled her resolve. She was going to go over to Taisho Inuyasha, she was going to say hello, and she was going to talk to him.
About what? She didn’t really know. But she figured that the alcohol would help take care of that.
He scented her before he saw her.
She was hovering on the edges of his senses; sweet, cloying, cherries and something else that made him salivate...was it vanilla? Fuck. He loved vanilla. As soon her delectable scent entered his purview, he started to look around the room. She was no longer standing on the opposite side of the room; she had moved, and was now standing off to his left, watching him hesitantly, as though trying to decide whether or not she should come closer to him. She kept taking sips out of her cup, and if that held Miroku’s secret special “punch,” she was gonna be wasted before she made her way over there.
Inuyasha felt a panic grip his heart at the thought that she might come over to talk to him. Should he...should he try to make himself look pleasant? He tried to settle his face into a smile, but was terrified that it looked more like he was horribly pained. So instead he allowed himself to wear his signature scowl, and simply continued watching the room, keeping one ear focused on her the entire time, just in case she moved again.
Slowly, but clearly, he heard her inching towards him. Her scent grew stronger, and more invasive. It filled his nostrils; if he’d been a cartoon, he would have started sniffing and lifted right off the ground: she smelled that fucking good. But he kept his cool, and stayed where he was, and tried not to salivate as she came closer and closer.
This...this was his chance. To find out what had happened between her and Bankotsu. To find out if she was free, and available, and if she would ever consider dating someone like him...someone like a hanyou. Because, Inuyasha was someone who wanted to be all in. And he suspected that Kagome was the same way.
Then, suddenly she was there, and she was next to him. And…
He didn’t know what to do.
He was suddenly impossibly nervous. Here was a girl...a beautiful girl...a girl he’d always found attractive, who maybe, if things had been different for her, for him, that maybe things for them could have been different, too
She came up next to him and leaned against the glass. He turned slightly, and saw her looking at him, flushed and smiling hesitantly. He flashed her what he hoped was a smile, then went back to staring out at the crowd, unsure of what to say.
He heard her clear her throat, and his ears swiveled in her direction, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Hey,” she said quietly. His eyes swiveled over to her briefly, resting on her beautiful, open face. He..he wanted to say something to her, but…
He couldn’t.
Instead, he scoffed softly and turned back to the party, watching the crowd. He felt the heat of a blush creeping up his neck, but he ignored it.
Ignored the gorgeous creature to his left, who was inching closer all the while, who he knew wanted to talk with him.
Inuyasha could hear her breathing; he could hear her heart, beating slightly irregularly. He found himself wondering if she had an arrhythmia, and immediately had to tamp down a growl at the fact that she was drinking and might have a heart condition. Not that it was any of his business, of course. Whatever she did was her responsibility; it was her life.
It wasn’t his fault that he was already feeling incredibly protective of her. Instinct. Damn inu youkai instincts. Loyal. Protective. Loving.
He scoffed quietly. Look where those instincts had gotten him before. Nowhere good.
Yes; better to ignore her, to ignore her breaths and her irregularly beating and her cherry scent that made him want to curl up at her feet and have her stroke his ears for like the rest of the night. And maybe for all of tomorrow, too.
Inuyasha was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear her clearing her throat slightly. When he finally did, he saw that she was staring at him again, her gray eyes sparkling like steel, her soft pink lips full and slightly open.
“You...don’t like people much, do you?” she said to him softly.
Well...that was not the comment that he was expecting. That she could tell that about him; that she knew what he was thinking, almost before he was thinking it himself.
What could he say to that? He couldn’t disagree with her; she was right, after all? So…
“Keh,” he scoffed. “I don’t like talking to people much, at all.”
And her scent became tinged with something dark, and dusky, and he could practically feel the disappointment radiating off her. When his ears turned back in her direction, followed by his eyes, he saw that she was staring awkwardly in her cup, as if contemplating how much of it she would have to drink to be able to carry on with her night. Inuyasha sighed.
Fuck. He’d hurt her feelings. He hadn’t meant to; he really hadn’t. He just also…He hadn’t wanted to lie to her.
But, wait a minute. Was what he had said to her true? Did he really not like talking to people? That part was definitely true: he fucking hated talking to people. But…
Would it be so bad if he were to…?
“But,” he added softly, catching her attention and causing her to look back up at him, “I like talking to you.” And he heard her breath hitch, and felt her blush, and when his eyes met hers, he could see that she was smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile back.