Eighty-Six by thetroll

Chapter 1

A/N: For those who continue to read, love, and support, this is for you. I appreciate each one of you, and your support means everything right now.

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Kagome could hardly breathe as she took in the gorgeous upscale restaurant before her. It was exactly his style, hosting a unique blend of Chinese fusion food in Japan. Somehow, given Sesshomaru's former dress in the feudal era, she wasn't the least bit surprised to see this was the restaurant he ran now.

They'd met for the first time at a park not far from here when Kagome had been relaxing on her lunch break near her office. Sesshomaru had walked past, dressed to the nines in a midnight blue suit, distracted by a phone call, but he'd stopped, turned—and, for a moment, their eyes had met as his human illusion had flickered.

She'd known who he was instantly. He might look older, perhaps with a few more years than she had now, but she would have known him anywhere.

He'd invited her to dinner that night, ostensibly to catch up. She'd left her college students' work ungraded, and dinner had turned into drinks and then a long night walking around Tokyo as they'd caught on on the changes to their lives. She'd finally learned the fate of all her friends—and why no one had ever found her, because no one had actually remembered her last name, and the war had caused them all to disperse—and she'd learned the fate of his own companions as well.

She'd thought that one night would be it, that she would never see him again.

But Sesshomaru continued to invite her out—and Kagome continued to accept. For six months, they'd met up whenever they had time. Her heart had softened to him and, she hoped, they were friends now.

She pushed the large glass doors open to the restaurant, knowing Sesshomaru did not like to be kept waiting. He'd been elusive about his work but now, she was finally going to see this part of him as well.

Sesshomaru stood just inside the doorway, waiting to greet her, dressed every bit the chef. She thought it looked a little odd, seeing him in a chef hat and coat, but she reasoned it was because she'd seen him in little else but suits and dress shirts for the last six months.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, holding out the small bouquet to him. Boys deserved flowers too, she'd reminded herself earlier, and if he was going to go out of his way to make a meal for her, it was the least she could do in turn. "I missed the first train."

He accepted the flowers, an odd look on his face that she couldn't quite read. "You came."

"I said I would." She flushed, a little embarrassed that she'd missed the train. She'd gotten distracted by a wedding display on her way here, and the silly daydreams of a beautiful white dress that a single woman in her early thirties had no business daydreaming over. "I just wanted to apologize again."

She'd sent a text letting him know she was running late, but that wouldn't excuse her. She just hoped he hadn't been working too hard on a meal now ruined by her tardiness.

"There's no one else here," she added, glancing around. Had he managed to reserve the restaurant for her? She knew some chefs could make good money, but she hoped he hadn't spend too much on something like this for just a friend. 

And that's all they were, of course. Friends.

"No," he agreed after a moment. "This way, Kagome."

She followed him to what had to be premium seating, even for a high-class restaurant like this. The air-conditioned, enclosed balcony overlooked the city while keeping patrons in comfort—and there was only room for two tables out here. She noted only one was set, and for only two people.

She relaxed marginally. At least he intended to eat with her.

"Can I do anything to help?" she asked, turning to him as he set her flowers down opposite her at the table. "I can help bring out—"

"No." Sesshomaru pulled out the chair for her. "Sit. I will bring the food out."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the serious look on her face had her change her mind. She sat down, giving him a short nod.

"Wait here."

As he left, Kagome drummed her fingers on the table. This meal was important to him, but she wasn't sure why. They'd eaten together over a hundred times now, and the only difference now was the fact that this time, he'd cooked for her. If he was a chef though, as she'd assumed when he'd said this restaurant was his, he cooked for hundreds of people a week.

It was odd either way to see the daiyokai uncharacteristically nervous.

He returned to pour them both a drink—his usual mijiu, and a fruity cocktail for her that she immediately enjoyed, reminding her of strawberries and guava.

And then, without a word, he left again before returning with the appetizer. 

She eyed the rare cooked meat and seafood platter he brought out, all thinly sliced, with mild surprise. Sesshomaru rarely ate much, if anything, when they'd eaten out, but he'd always had at least a drink. There was so much food here, however, that he had to plan to eat with her otherwise it would all go to waste. "You must be really hungry tonight," she joked as he sat down across from her.

That same strange expression flickered across his face. "Hnn," he said, reaching for his chopsticks, but he made no move to sample anything until she had her own chopsticks in hand.

She thanked him for the meal before reaching for a piece of lightly seared crab. She'd always loved crab—

The moment it hit her tongue, she fought not to blanche. It was horrible. 

Thinking it to be a flake, she tried some salmon next, and then the beef, all with the same results. It was all terrible. There was too much seasoning, too many competing flavors, that she could barely even taste the meat or seafood underneath it all. 

If this was what high-end food was, Kagome sincerely hoped she never ate an expensive meal in her life again.

"You do not like it."

She hid a wince as she looked up to find Sesshomaru watching her, his expression serious as he set his chopsticks down. "It's, um, a lot of flavor," she said, striving for something diplomatic. "I'm just not used to Chinese fusion food, I guess."

"Hnn." He stood and, before she could stop him, took the appetizer platter away.

She sighed with relief as soon as he was gone. Who would have even thought of combining horseradish, ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil together to begin with? She was pretty sure she'd tasted red pepper ad star anise as well, but her palette certainly wasn't as well-developed as any food critic.

Whatever he brought out next, she sincerely hoped it was better.

Sesshomaru quietly returned and set down two plates, one with what looked to be a prime cut of steak. Sesshomaru really seemed to like meat, she noted. "This looks great," she said cheerfully, not seeing as much seasoning on the steak. She really hoped it would be more edible than the last, though she did find it odd the steak was sitting on a bed of rice and vegetables.

Perhaps that was just how Chinese fusion food was supposed to look.

His expression relaxed as he sat down across from her, but he made no move to eat as he watched. A little unnerved, she cut a small piece and lifted it up to her mouth, wanting to show that she savored the food he'd worked so hard on. 

Oh my god.

It was even worse than the appetizer. It took everything she had not to spit it immediately out in the napkin beside her plate. She fought valiantly to chew, but she knew her misery had to be showing plain as day on her face. 

"You do not like this, either." Sesshomaru's expression was unreadable again.

Her eyes watered as she finally managed to swallow. "It's a little bitter," she managed, wondering how the hell he'd managed to make a meat so damn bitter to begin with. Was this really what people paid big money to come and eat?

It seemed like torture.

And yet the fact that he'd worked so hard on it had her wincing from her own rudeness. "I'm sure it's very popular, though," she lied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. God, she hoped it wasn't, or she was never going to trust any critic-rated restaurant again. How had this one gotten such high marks?

Sesshomaru abruptly stood, taking the plate from her before she could try to force herself to take another bite. He left without a word, but she knew she'd hurt his feelings.

Dammit. She exhaled as she ran one hand through her hair. Why was it so hard to just enjoy what he'd obviously worked so hard on? Or, at least, make him think she had?

He returned, this time with a small piece of cake for each of them, and she relaxed. No one could possibly mess up a cake, right?

"Your honest opinion," he warned, pulling the cake back when she'd reached to take a bite. "You will be honest, Kagome."

"Of course I will," she said, momentarily offended before she recalled her previous attempts to downplay the food. He'd told her before how much he preferred honesty and, she realized, she'd given him anything but. "Okay, I will this time," she added. "I promise, Sesshomaru."

He inclined his head as he relinquished her plate and sat down, once again watching her.

She took a big bite, ready to sing his praises and salvage the night, but this time, she couldn't stop herself from coughing as she spat the cake out onto a napkin. "Holy shit," she blurted in English before switching back to Japanese. "That tasted worse than dirt. How can chocolate cake even taste that bad?"

Sesshomaru's expression was brittle as he reached for his own fork and, to her horror, took a large bite and chewed with a thoughtful expression before he swallowed. "Hnn."

"It's terrible, right?" She stared at him, wondering how he'd managed to keep down the cake. It was, without a doubt, the worst part of the meal.

"I wouldn't know."

Kagome gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing several times. "What?"

"I wouldn't know," he repeated, wiping his mouth with a napkin before setting it aside. "I do not eat human food often, but when I do, it all tastes like this to me."

"It—but—you—how—you're a chef," she finally managed, staring at him. "How can you make food you can't taste properly?"

"I am not a chef," he clarified with a tiny smile. "I own the restaurant, but I do not run it."

She leaned back in her chair as the pieces fell into place. "Then why did you cook tonight?"

"To please you." He gestured with two of his fingers towards the plate before him. "You have stated before how you prefer a home-cooked meal. I spent a week with my chef learning to make this for you, but it seems it was not enough."

Her heart melted then and there. She couldn't have said when it'd began, but she could firmly say then that somewhere along the way, she'd fallen in love with him. "Thank you." 

"You should not thank—" he stopped as she rose from the table and urged him to stand as well. "What are you doing, Kagome?"

"We can't eat this," she said with a reassuring smile. "You don't eat human food anyway, right?" At his short nod, she continued, "But you made it all anyway for me."

He inclined his head. "I wished to impress you as your kind do." More quietly, he added, "The ways of my kind failed to resonate."

She faltered. "Impress me?" Her heart began to beat faster as she dared to hope. Could he truly have felt the same way?

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled a small velvet case out as she could barely breathe. "I have been informed that your kind have grand meals like this before such a conversation," he informed her quietly. "I have failed to do so, so perhaps I do not have the right, but—"

She took the box from him eagerly, opening it to find a small, charming little ring that suited her tastes. Eyes misting, she looked up at him. "You want to marry me?" She hoped she was right; if she'd leapt to conclusions now—

"It is all I have desired since I first saw you that day in the park." A faint glimmer of hope shone in his own eyes. "I did not dare think such a reunion might have been allowed until that moment."

"Will you put it on me?" she asked, voice trembling as she smiled through her tears. He'd wanted her, wanted to be with her, and god, this was something out of a sappy Western romance movie—horrible meal notwithstanding—but she ate it all up anyway. After so many years alone, she appreciated his clumsy attempts at romance. He was trying. 

He slid the ring onto her finger, his touch impossibly gentle. "You consent, then?"

"Only if you kiss me," she told him, boldness coursing through her now that she knew he felt the same way. "But then I—"

She didn't get the chance to finish as he pulled her to his chest and kissed her as thoroughly as she could have hoped for. His kiss was gentle for only a second before he deepened it, taking her with such fervor that she could only cling to him, as desperate as he for more.

"We could go to a hotel," she said, breaking the kiss, her eyes dancing. "They have room service, Sesshomaru."

His brows rose as she bent to whisper something else in his ear—a plan for the evening that did not involve food in anyway.

Her laughter followed them both out of the restaurant as he raced to his car with daiyokai speed, Kagome tucked firmly into his arms. Once tucked into a nice hotel room, well, room service was promptly forgotten for some time as Kagome followed through on that promise—and Sesshomaru added a few of his own.