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“Dammit!” Kagome tried not to swear too loudly; she really really tried. But she was short, and some brilliant person had decided to stock the dashi packets on the very top shelf in the aisle, and Kagome was too damn short to reach them.
She’d tried leaning into the shelves, going in as far as she could. She’d tried standing on her tiptoes. She’d tried climbing on to the bottom shelf (and fuck, that had been a bad idea, because those shelves were not meant to take any kind of weight!), and she’d tried the jump-and-grab method. But all of it was for naught, and she was currently standing, back on her tiptoes, leaning as far forward as she could, trying…
Kagome’s foot caught in the bottom shelf, and she slipped, and fell forward, hitting her face on the metal and bumping her nose hard. She grunted, and stepped back, rubbing her nose and scowling up at the top shelf.
Whose bright idea was it to put the dashi packets all the way up there? Didn’t people know that not everyone was a giant? Didn’t they…
Kagome was suddenly aware of a presence beside her; she looked to her right, and saw a tall figure in an impeccable wool sweater and clean-cut khakis. His long silver hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and Kagome saw the maroon stripes painting his cheeks (a yōkai, she realized immediately), as he reached up and easily took down a box of dashi packets. Kagome couldn’t help it; she let out a little growl of frustration, and the man looked at her, surprised.
“Oh,” he said, “I’m sorry. Were you reaching for the dashi, too?”
Handsome. He was handsome: golden eyes that gazed down at her with a hint of amusement, but not mocking. His nose was aqualine, and his lips full and plush. A lilac crescent moon adorned the center of his forehead, framed by long bangs, and Kagome found that, when she looked back at him, she could not speak—she could barely even move.
“Ah,” he added after a moment, apparently taking in her height more consciously, “you need…help? Reaching the dashi?”
Numbly, Kagome nodded. Come on, girl! Use your words!
The man offered her a small smile, but his eyes sparkled like the sun. “Here.” He offered her the box he’d already taken, and when their fingers brushed, Kagome felt a jolt that caused her entire body to shiver. “I can always get another one.” And so he did, reaching up with ease and selecting another box of dashi, then turning to look at her once more.
“Th—thank you,” Kagome ground out at last, relieved to have found her words. “I’ve been—trying—to reach that for a hot minute now.”
“It seems you just needed a little help,” the man said; his voice was even, but Kagome again detected a hint of amusement in his eyes, in the way that his lips twitched. “Are you making something special? For your husband?”
“What? Ah! No!” Kagome stammered. “It’s—it’s my brother’s birthday, and he really likes beef udon, so I’m making it for him.”
“He is lucky,” the man commented, “to have a sister willing to make such a special meal for him.”
“How about you?” Kagome couldn’t help but wonder. “Are—are you—”
“For my mother,” the man said, dropping his own box of dashi granules in his basket. “She’s had a cold, and is absolutely insufferable when she’s ill.” The man paused, and did Kagome see the faintest hint of a blush creep over his alabaster cheeks? “The doctor has suggested that she needs some more iron in her diet,” he added, “so I, too, am making her a beef udon.”
“Really?” Kagome exclaimed, perhaps a little bit too loudly for the soup aisle at the grocery store. A little old lady who was perusing the canned soups shot her a glare, but Kagome glared right back—she’d had enough grocery store bullshit that day with the damn dashi and didn’t need anymore, quite frankly. “Isn’t that something!”
“So it is.” The man regarded her, the amusement she’d seen in his eyes spreading to his face, as his lips twitched upwards most appealingly. Really, he was hot. He dipped his head. “Taisho Sesshōmaru.”
“Higurashi Kagome.” Kagome dipped her head in response.
“Well, Higurashi-san,” the man—Sesshōmaru—replied, “if we are shopping for the same meal, perhaps it would make sense for us to shop for our ingredients together? Just in case there are more that are on shelves that are too high for your reach.”
“You’re making fun,” Kagome said, but there was no real heat in her voice.
“I would never,” Sesshōmaru answered, completely serious.
“Then,” Kagome said, finding herself falling under the spell of Sesshōmaru’s luminous eyes, “I accept.”
“Excellent.” Sesshōmaru pulled out his phone, and Kagome could see that he had the recipe for the udon on his screen. “Let me see,” he said. “Next on the list is…”
“Do you have soy sauce and mirin for the dashi?” Kagome asked. “You need to have those if you are going to make the broth.”
Sesshōmaru pursed his lips slightly. “I…am not sure,” he admitted. “Perhaps you could show me where to find them in the store? It couldn’t hurt to have additional bottles of those staples, correct?”
“Absolutely,” Kagome said. She turned and left the soup aisle, and headed to the aisle with condiments (personally, she had never understood why this store stocked the dashi separate from the soy sauce and the mirin, but whatever). “Those will be down here, and then we can go and get the produce that we need.”
“You have…made this dish before?” Sesshōmaru asked; his hands were large, and graceful, as he selected one bottle of soy sauce and one of kirin each.
Kagome nodded. “Every year on my brother’s birthday,” she replied. “He always asks for it, and in the past, I always helped my mom. But this year we’re both on our own in the city—Mama is back at our family shrine—and I wanted to make him something that reminded him of home.”
Now she was sure that she saw a faint smile brush Sesshōmaru’s lips, and it was beautiful; the barest hint of pleasure lit up his entire face. “You said…produce…is next, Higurashi-san?”
“Kagome,” she corrected him gently, “and yup! We need negi for this dish, but we’ll need the beef, too, and the butcher will slice it thinly for us if we ask.”
“Kagome,” he repeated, and she felt a warm flush flooding her system at the way his deep voice rumbled over her name. “What cut of beef do you recommend?”
“If we’re being fancy,” Kagome laughed, “I would say a rib eye?”
“Ah, an excellent cut,” Sesshōmaru complimented, and Kagome couldn’t help but beam a little. “Do you know where we find a butcher in the store?”
“Have you never been to a grocery store before, Taisho-san?” Kagome couldn’t help but tease him as they collected the negi, and Kagome also talked him into getting some mitsuba for a topping. Then, they went to the rear of the store, where the meat counter was located, and Kagome went to the counter next to the metal door that led to the coolers, where the meat and other refrigerated goods were kept.
“Not—not one like this,” Sesshōmaru replied, and paused for a moment, Kagome turning as she felt a hitch in his step. “And Sesshōmaru is fine…Kagome.”
Kagome couldn’t help it; she cast a brilliant smile at him, causing his lips to again twitch upwards in response.
She couldn’t help but wonder: a handsome, single man, cooking for his mother, alone…
“So…” she asked, “will you make your mother’s beef udon alone?”
Sesshōmaru simply stared at her, his golden eyes cool and unflinching. “Why?” he replied. “Should I have someone else there to help me? Does this dish require additional hands?” His eyes narrowed in concern. “You did say you always made it with your mother, after all,” he added thoughtfully.
Oh, shit, nope, oops. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed, jiggling her basket and probably being too loud once again. “I meant that…is there…someone else…a…” She was definitely turning red, but had to persist, “significant someone who might be helping you?”
“If you are asking if I am dating anyone, Kagome,” Sesshōmaru replied smoothly, “the answer is no…I am not.”
“Oh!” Kagome looked down at her basket, suddenly shy. She wasn’t sure why she had asked that question…okay, no, she was completely sure she knew why; she just…
“Ah, Kagome-san!” Kagome jumped when Jakotsu, the lead butcher, came to the counter. “What can I help you with today?”
“Hi, Jakotsu-san,” Kagome replied, silently thanking all the gods for the distraction. Luckily, she was friendly enough with the butcher that he would definitely be willing to help her out. “I need…about half a kilogram of sliced rib eye, in two equal packages.”
Kagome saw Jakotsu’s eyes slide from her to Sesshōmaru, and his face broke out into a wide grin. “You sure you don’t need just one package, Kagome-san?”
“N—no, thank you.” Kagome tried to keep her voice steady. “Two will be fine.”
Jakotsu shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll go make that up for you. Be ready in ten?”
“Perfect.” Kagome turned to Sesshōmaru. “Shall we go get the noodles and come back?”
Sesshōmaru nodded, and Kagome tried to ignore Jakotsu’s parting grin as she led Sesshōmaru back through the store, and to the fresh food and carryout section of the store. “I’m going to get fresh noodles,” she told him. “I think they taste best?”
“I’ve only ever used dry ones,” Sesshōmaru replied. “Will the fresh ones cook differently?”
“Yes.” Kagome selected two packages of fresh udon; she put one in her basket, and when Sesshōmaru held his basket out to her, she blushed a little, and put the other package in his basket for him. “Now,” she said, willing her voice to not sound too high-pitched, “is there anything else you want for the soup?”
“Would I need anything else?” Sesshōmaru asked, the little space between his eyebrows furrowing slightly—whether in thought or consternation, Kagome couldn’t be quite sure.
“Well…” Kagome tapped her finger against her chin, thinking. “I’m going to get some narutomako to serve as a topping,” she said. “Would your mother like that, do you think?”
“Whatever you think is best…Kagome.” She did not miss the way that Sesshōmaru’s breath hitched a bit when he said her, and she also did not miss the way his eyes turned, gentle and almost fond, when she placed two packages of fish cakes in her basket, before adding two to his own.
“Kagome.” His hand reached out, and brushed against hers, as they both tried to jostle the cakes to get them to fit. She looked up—she had to look up really high to see his eyes, but they still had that same, faraway, fond look, and it was making her…well?
It was making her think things that she should not be thinking about a man she just met in the grocery store.
“I—I think that the meat should be about ready?” she said, removing her hand and smiling softly at him.
“Yes.” Sesshōmaru adjusted the fish cakes and then turned. He started to lead the way, but then stopped, and looked back at Kagome. “Which way to the butcher counter again?” he asked, the tension between them shattering a bit.
Kagome couldn’t help it; she laughed. “This way,” she said, and together, they walked back to the meat counter, Kagome stopping along the way to snag some fresh onigiri for a snack. They talked easily, Sesshōmaru telling her about his mother, and all her “eccentricities,” as he called them, and Kagome telling Sesshōmaru all about her little brother, and how it was his first birthday away from home, and that she wanted to make it special for him.
“There you are, Kagome-san.” Jakotsu was already at the counter waiting for them. “All sliced and weighed, so you should be ready to go.”
“Jakotsu-san.” Kagome stared at the counter, panic rising in her throat. “You—you didn’t—”
“Oh, what!” Jakotsu dropped his mouth open, an exaggerated surprise that was obviously a lie. “I’m so sorry, Kagome-san! You said you wanted two packages of the beef, not one, didn’t you?”
“I’m so sorry.” Kagome turned to Sesshōmaru, her heart stuttering. “I know I did ask for two.”
“You sure did.” Jakotsu was now grinning. “I must have forgotten.”
You didn’t forget, Kagome thought. She couldn’t believe he had done this! She had to…
And then, a delicate, clawed hand reached out, swept the wrapped meat off the counter, and slid it into his basket. “It is fine,” Sesshōmaru said. “We’ll take the meat, as it is.”
“But, Sesshōmaru,” Kagome began, but Sesshōmaru was already striding away towards the checkout, and with a quick glance back at Jakotsu (who was still grinning at her, the idiot!), Kagome sighed, and hurried after Sesshōmaru.
They reached the checkout, and Sesshōmaru began to place his items on the conveyor belt. Kagome watched as he removed each item carefully and set it down, growing more and more nervous as he emptied his basket. When he got to the sliced beef, the beef that she was supposed to get half of, the beef she was supposed to pay for, she couldn’t help it; Kagome had to say something.
“Um, about the beef…”
“It is no concern,” he said simply. “I will cover the cost.”
“Oh!” Kagome replied, anxious. “I can’t let you do that. It’s for my brother, after all…”
“You are making a kind gesture,” Sesshōmaru answered her, now putting his credit card in the reader as the cashier bagged the groceries, “and I have no issue with covering the cost.”
His tone was firm, and Kagome could only nod, and take out her own groceries, then pay her bill next. She slid her basket under the belt, took her bags, and followed Sesshōmaru out of the store.
There was just one thing left they had to discuss…
“Um, excuse me?” Sesshōmaru turned around at the automatic doors, one eyebrow quirked at her. “Do you…that is…the beef.”
“Ah.” Sesshōmaru opened the bag and looked in, as though he were just realizing the true implications of one package of beef for two people. “Yes. I see.”
“You can just take it all!” Kagome said quickly. “It’s not—I have plenty of proteins at home that I can use instead.”
“Not at all, Kagome,” Sesshōmaru replied. “We were supposed to split this beef, and so we shall.” He grew quiet, appearing to be lost in thought, and Kagome watched him intently, fascinated by the way his eyes faded in and out, by the way they flickered over to her briefly, by the way his throat constricted and relaxed, by the way that, at last, he let out a long huff of air.
“This recipe,” he began, “is more complex than I had originally thought.”
“It’s really not that hard,” Kagome said, “it’s really just a matter of following the directions and giving the flavors time to blend.”
“See?” There it was again; that tiny half-smile. Kagome liked it, a lot. “You already know so much more than I do.” Sesshōmaru frowned. “Perhaps you would not be opposed to telling me more of how to prepare this meal…maybe over coffee?”
Kagome’s mind went blank. He…he wanted to have coffee with her? Like a…
“What about the meat?” she asked, feeling both a little silly and a little emboldened. “What do we do about that?”
Sesshōmaru reached into his bag, took out the package of beef, and slid it into Kagome’s bag. “You have plenty to make a nice birthday meal for you brother,” he said. “Perhaps you might be willing to prepare it, take some pictures, and show me what you did?”
Kagome smiled. “Over coffee?” she asked.
“Over coffee,” he agreed.
“Okay,” Kagome said, her grin getting wider. “I would be happy to share all my secrets to cooking the perfect beef udon with you.” She paused. “And maybe…other recipes, too?”
“Of course.” Now she was sure: Sesshōmaru was smiling at her, and it was wonderful. “And if you need someone to go shopping with you to get the required ingredients,” he added, “I’ll make sure to get all the items on the shelves that are too high for you to reach.”
Kagome gaped at him, then laughed, then reached out and took his arm. “For now,” she said, “I think I like reaching for this, right here, if you do.”
She didn’t miss the way Sesshōmaru’s cheeks flushed slightly, or the way that he stood a little bit straighter at her touch.
“Yes,” he said after a moment. “I think that this is…quite nice, too.”