He might have been born 500 years ago, but if there's anything Sesshomaru knows about the current era...
It's how to charm modern women.
Less Than Three series:
A collection of one-shots on love & technology.
Romance just got a lot less romantic.
"I'll be there in 8 minutes. You'll love this."
"What kind of date are you planning, exactly?"
"Something more... time-appropriate."
"Yes, Miko, it'll be dope."
There were very few things that made the Lord of the Western Lands uneasy or uncomfortable.
He was usually always confident with his perfection and wide array of talents, assured and superior in whatever activity he decided to take on—whether it be fighting a swarm of demons or setting up a business empire or... or finding the courage to walk in a drugstore to buy her
tampons when she unexpectedly needed it.
They'd been together for an entire year—and before that, four years of strong, unshakable, growing friendship since the moment she clambered up the permanently closed well and found him standing on the other side, having waited five hundred years to be there, beside her, when she mourned the loss of her final link to the feudal era.
In all that time since, Kagome has never found anything Sesshomaru can't do.
Recently he seemed a little bothered by things that never bothered him before—their differences. They had their past in common, that same sense of loss for a life long gone, the same weariness for hiding who they were and that yearning for someone who understands. Overtime they found more things in common than just that past life, but overtime they also found things that they differed on.
And there were many.
"I apologize, Miko. I didn't mean to make you wait four hours in the rain. I didn't get your message—the stupid website would not this Sesshomaru log in to his account. I didn't know you were waiting for me. Those damned, useless, far-too-numerous social networks—they require too complicated passwords, love. You need at least ten characters, a number, a capital letter—for heaven's sake, no wonder I cannot remember any of them! What good is a password when you can't remember what the hell they are!"
Kagome shifted uncomfortably.
"Sesshomaru, to be fair, 'tenseiga' is kind of an obvious password for you."
He thought for a moment.
"So is 'foolishhalfbreed."
His unease wasn't a sudden event; more like an accumulation, something that grew every time he couldn't relate to something she said or did or watched, and every time she dismissed, "never mind" or "don't worry about it."
Being Sesshomaru, he worried about it.
"I apologize, Miko. But it was that worthless app on that worthless phone. That meddling little thing ended the call without this Sesshomaru's permission."
"You mean, you accidentally pressed the red circle on Skype on the bottom of the screen."
"I did no such thing! My finger only so much as touched that foolish, repulsive button—"
"That's why it's called a touch screen."
Lately, he was restless—frown lingering too long when she referred to some word or phrase he didn't understand, lips pressed together too lightly when their musical tastes didn't coincide or when he preferred traditional cuisine and fine-dining while she was fine with McDonald's—or when he simply couldn't comprehend why she enjoyed shoving deafening speakers into her ears with long bothersome, always-getting-tangled white wires for 20 hours a day.
In the few times Sesshomaru was not filled with confidence and self-possessed superiority, he usually came crawling to her like a puppy caught chewing a slipper, mumbling an apology for his too-common technological mishaps.
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 4m
Miko. Are you still in pain?
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 4m
Hold on. I'll be there soon.
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 4m
I'm in line at the pharmacy buying those pills the doctor prescribed.
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 4m
It should help get rid of that diarrhea.
Kagome Higurashi omgitskagome 3m
SesshT For the love of god, inbox, Sesshomaru INBOX!
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 2m
Kagome Higurashi omgitskagome 2m
SesshT USE FACEBOOK'S INBOX. EVERYONE CAN READ THIS.
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 2m
Sesshomaru Taisho SesshT 1m
...You mean Twitter isn't private?
Of course, Kagome didn't blame him for his lack of technological... aptitude, but recently Sesshomaru looked more and more ashamed of this shortcoming. It didn't matter that he was the largest shareholder of the Western Lands Estates, or that he was fluent in six languages and still retained his position as the Lord of the Western Lands, albeit implicitly and corporately. Still, when faced with the great big websites of doom, the Lord was suddenly restless with insecurity.
Which was why Kagome was starting to get suspicious.
She stared at the ticking clock on her living room wall.
He'd promised something "time-appropriate."
What does that mean?
Exactly what did Sesshomaru plan to do for their first-year anniversary?
Kagome jumped up at the sound of the doorbell and swung the door open.
She smiled, taking in his sharp, mesmerizing eyes, the sleek blackness pressed polo and tie, the bright gleam of his silver hair that stood in contrast. He leaned down as she grabbed his forearm and quickly struggled to put on her heels, offering her a soft, long kiss in the process.
She narrowed her eyes. "What did you mean by time-appropriate?"
"As in, contemporary, Miko. Up-to-date. You'll see we're not so different after all."
"Hurry, I've made reservations. Let us bounce."
Kagome paused, but she was already being dragged down the porch. Then she saw it—the long bright sheen of the white limousine parked by the sidewalk of her in-campus townhouse. Kagome froze. "What is that?"
Jesus, where the hell were they going, the president?
Before she could utter another exclamation, Sesshomaru ushered her into the spacey vehicle, inside of which was practically bigger than her closet. As the vehicle thrummed into motion and the leather seats beneath her warmed instantly with built-in seat warmers, Kagome gaped at the colourful set of buttons across the ceiling and side panels. Running her fingers through the LCD screens and wireless remotes, consoles and vehicle buttons, she exclaimed, "It's like the cockpit of a plane in here!"
Sesshomaru looked exceedingly pleased with himself. "This limo is one of the company's most advanced." He motioned towards the screens and consoles, "Touch-screen entertainment, should you wish to play games or watch Blu-ray movies. It's command system is also voice-activated. These buttons adjust the temperature, lighting, windows, music—Oh, there's Wi-Fi."
Kagome sat, stunned. "What are you supposed to use Wi-Fi for, inside a car?"
"You announce your useless, worthless mental rants to the rest of the world on an online social media platform, of course. That seems to be the favoured pastime of your contemporaries. Are you pleased?"
"Indeed, it is truly hardcore."
She paused—"It's what?"
He frowned at her, as if she were suddenly stupid for not getting something so simple. "Hardcore." He checked his watch. "Meaning something intense, extreme or awesome, generally referring to a good experience."
She stared at him. "Right, anyway," Kagome looked through her purse, looking for her phone. Finding it, she quickly snapped photos of the interior before rolling down the window and captured the flashing lights and colors of the city. "Sesshomaru—where are we?"
"I thought I'd take you around parts of Tokyo you haven't seen before. We're in the skyscraper district." It was perhaps the epitome of downtown—lights and glass, people and shopping centers. Kagome snapped away for a few moments before shooting a glance at the man beside her.
He raised an eyebrow in question. "What for?"
"Take a picture with me," she explained. "I want to remember this."
He smirked then, eyes softening with understanding. "Ah—of course Kagome."
Sesshomaru shifted over, arms wrapping around her.
"I would love to camwhore with you."
They went around downtown to sightsee shopping centers and the financial district—he insisted they stop so she could browse through designer boutiques and the ever sleek and state-of-the-art Apple store, but she hadn't bought anything. Then he took her to see a movie—complete with the 3D, IMAX experience with high definition surround sound (and the rare but comical sight of the ruthless killing machine wearing thick rimmed 3D-glasses).
...So after all that—she hadn't expected this.
Kagome's jaw dropped, eyes nearly blinded by the glinting smooth surfaces of polished floors, marble walls and twinkling chandeliers.
"Sesshomaru... what is this?"
They stood in a grand lobby, with geometrical cream-and-black couches and high-definition screens. It was decorated not with the detail and golden intricacy of something antique, but with soft smooth silver, straight and defined lines and the polished back and white of modern interior design. Lights dimmed to give an ambiance of tranquility, luxury and wealth—and modernity.
A large, warm palm rested on the small of her back and guided her towards a long line of elevators. "One of the most recent high-tech skyscraper hotels in the country, opened only a few months ago."
"What are we doing here?"
He ignored her. "Notice the design, the architecture—quiet contemporary, is it not? Do you like it, Miko?"
"Sesshomaru, answer me. Why are we here?"
A smirk graced his handsome face. "You'll see soon. Just...chill."
Though impassive as always, Sesshomaru's face contained an undercurrent of boyish excitement in the barely restrained crinkles of his eyes, the pursed line of his lips, all signs that told her he was fighting of the impulse to grin.
Kagome narrowed her eyes. He was up to something.
"Okay," she huffed reluctantly, "I'll... chill."
Before she knew it, the elevator had brought them to the highest floor it could go, the penthouse. If Kagome's jaw dropped upon entering the lobby, it must have detached entirely once those elevator doors slid open. The circular room was vast and richly carpeted, with lavishly ordained tables. A restaurant. She glanced at Sesshomaru, his lips set in determination, eyes scrunched in concentration and locked onto his wristwatch: she knew he was a man with a purpose. He and a hotel server wasted no time finding tables; instead, they walked straight to a private back room.
Kagome's breath caught.
The room was as sleek and polished as the lobby, with the same artsy and futuristic design of straight-edged furniture, geometric architecture, and glass everywhere. In the middle lay a round table with two chairs, a single candle and rose at its center. Across the room, a wide expanse of windows ran halfway around in a half-circle. Kagome noticed the moving city-lights outside the window. Moving lights.
Kagome stared longer, confused for a moment before finally seeing the entire panorama of the city's downtown lights, all slowly but steadily gliding to the left.
They were moving.
It was a revolving restaurant.
She suddenly felt warmth against her back and snaking around her waist. "Miko?"
Kagome spun around, breathless. "This is amazing. Sesshomaru—this is way too much!"
Suddenly he looked like a chastised puppy. "I guess it is—I'm sorry if it isn't to your liking, love, I just wanted... never mind. I could have the chandelier taken down, I suppose. Or—or I could have the revolving restaurant... stop revolving?"
A laugh burst out of her before she shook her head rapidly. "No, no, no—this is perfect. It's fine the way it is." Her eyes returned to the fancy, futuristic-like interior of the private dining room before she started for the window, entranced by the floating lights that made it look like they were soaring. "I'll be back with your menus, sir," the server murmured in the background.
She leaned against the windowsill, taking in the city lights and waiting for Sesshomaru to draw nearer. That was a chronic habit of his, to come up behind her when she least expected it to wrap his arms—
Kagome fumbled through the contents of her bag.
Sesshomaru: Enjoying the view, Miko?
Kagome: Uh, yeah, yes—it's amazing.
Sesshomaru: And the restaurant? Quite impressively state-of-the-art, is it not?
Kagome: why are you texting me when we're in the same room?
Sesshomaru: ...is this not the preferred mode of communication of your generation?
Kagome spun around frustrated, eyes glaring impatience and exasperation. "Sesshomaru! Stop it!"
Obediently, he came over, his arms a natural enclosure around her as he stood closer. "There's a terrace," he whispered. "Would you like to see it?"
She brightened. "We can go outside?"
"Of course, follow me." He led the way across the other side of the room towards an immense set of double glass doors, running from floor to ceiling. Always the old-fashioned gentleman, Sesshomaru went ahead and pushed the heavy doors open, Kagome strolling right behind him, when—
Her head snapped back.
"Miko!" Sesshomaru's hand shot out to catch the heavy doors once again and pried them open. "Kagome—my apologies. Are you alright?"
Kagome rubbed her aching nose. "Jesus, Sesshomaru, why the hell did you let go of the door?!"
He looked at her and stated so matter-of-factly, "So that you can open it, of course."
Genuine confusion flashed on his face. "I thought modern women liked to be independent?"
Kagome spluttered. "Not when it gives them a broken nose!"
"I'm sorry," Sesshomaru conceded, pulling the doors wider apart before frowning to check his watch. "Indeed, an epic fail."
He laid a hand against her back, strong and soothing. "Never mind. We can forget that incident. Let us..." His forehead crinkled, his eyes flicking to his wrist. "Chillax. Shall we chillax and enjoy the city lights, miko?"
Kagome shook her head, still dazed by the 2-tonne glass that had attacked her face. She walked ahead of him to lean against the terrace railings and take in a bird's eye view of the city. Wind swept softly around them, cool and silent. Despite her aching nose, Kagome felt soothed by everything around her. "Thank you," she murmured quietly, "this was an amazing anniversary, Sesshomaru."
Silence followed afterwards, the kind that always befell them, calming and content and comfortable and...
—Sesshomaru cleared his throat, awkward and restless.
"So," he began, hand fiddling with his phone and not quite meeting her eye. "I've heard that the US archery Olympic team are quite talented."
Kagome raised her eyebrow. Since when was Sesshomaru interested in—?
"We've only had three silver and two bronze medals, but for the coming Summer Olympics, Japan's archery team is improving, yes?"
Why in the world was Sesshomaru—
"That recent archeological dig in the southern islands found a buried, feudal village from the 1500s. We might be acquainted with it."
He fiddled with his phone again, eyes flickering down.
"Is your school involved in it, at all? The Archeology department of Tokyo University have plenty of resources to offer."
Kagome's eyes narrowed.
"And Kenji Kato is quite a... tolerable singer, I suppose."
His finger grazed the screen, as if scrolling...
"And the national museum is apparently adding a new exhibition of artefacts from their recent archeological digs. That's... fascinating?"
"And the Arashi band is... adequate. I could understand why you like them... I guess, not quite, but—"
His eyes flickered towards the phone again.
"And can you believe that season finale of GOT?"
She got it.
"And those sales on Forever 21!"
"See? We have many similar interests, Miko. We are not too incompatible."
Annoyed, Kagome reached over and snatched his phone from his hands.
USA Archery USAArchery
Archery Japan ArcheryJPN
World Archery worldarchery
NPS Archeology NPSArch
Department of Archeology, University of Tokyo UofTarcheology
Kenji Kato KenjiKatoOfficial
Japan National Treasures Org. JPNTofficial
National Archeological & Anthropological Museum NAAMJapan
"Sesshomaru," she huffed, staring at the screen. "You're just listing everyone I follow on Twitter."
He bristled. "I am not."
"Look, the city lights!" He snatched the phone back and whirled her around to face the city below. "It's an amazing sight, Miko."
She sighed, finding no energy to resist. "Sure."
"Indeed it's off the chain."
Kagome halted. "Off the—what in the world are you—?"
"Oh. Does that not make sense?" Sesshomaru fumbled with the cuffs at his sleeves. "Would bitchin' be more contemporary? Or—" He squinted at his nonexistent wrist watch. "Ahhh—I believe this is a better term—"
The entrance doors to the terrace clicked open and server looked out. "Sir? I have your menus. Did you find everything alright with the balcony?"
Sesshomaru's eyes snapped up. "Yes, we're fine, thank you. This view is the shit!"
"Here, we should select our orders." He ushered her into the room hurriedly and forced to sit in the center table. To her surprise, the server placed a sleek, wide iPad before them on the tabletop. Bright, vivid images of meals and desserts flashed before the screen in high-definition. She saw a logo on the bottom right of the screen—IRT: Interactive Restaurant Technology. She glimpses the blue and red square buttons on the menu screen that told her wireless internet allowed customers to browse Facebook, Twitter, Youtube and even access their credit cards, pay their bills and get a taxi on this web-friendly menu. Staring at their table closely, she realized that its surface was touch-screen as well—this more geared towards room control, such as adjusting the lighting, music, curtains, temperature and the LCD screens.
The server chirped, "If you need any help accessing our interactive menus, I'll be happy to—"
Yes, thank you—
She stared at Sesshomaru in disbelief as he took the tablet with all the confidence in the world, like it was just another demon he would soon slay.
"We're perfectly fine."
"Uh, no we're not, wait—"
The door thundered shut. The server was gone.
"Sesshomaru!" She glared at him. "Do you even know how to use this?!"
He rolled his eyes, his self-assured facade so ever unruffled. "Of course." His fingers danced above the screen, as steady and certain as those times he'd sliced and slashed at evil souls; this time, he sliced and slashed at several buttons, although he was on the internet now and she could no longer see any images of food—
"It is far from complicated. Working this advanced piece of innovation is entirely easy—"
ALERT: TROJAN MALWARE DETECTED
System Scanner detected a virus.
Virus Name: !B
Action Taken: Unable to repair this file
Threat Level: Severe
Fingers froze. Kagome gawked.
"What are you doing?"
"What did you just—!"
"Chillax, Miko. I am perfectly competent with techno—"
The screen flashed blue with bright, white letters.
A fatal problem has been detected and system has shut down to prevent damage.
If this is the first time you've seen this stop error screen, restart your computer.
***STOP: 0x0023344123 (0x0000,0x02200000,x00000)
Beginning dump of physical memory.
Physical memory dump complete.
"Sesshomaru!" she shrieked, "You idiot, what did you do?"
"It is not my fault, Miko. A window popped up!"
She stared, waiting.
"It said Click Here."
"So I clicked it."
"That was a virus. Oh my god, you just broke the—!"
"It's perfectly fine." Sesshomaru shoved the tablet under the table sheets. "Just leave it there. We can wait for him to come back."
"You can't just—!"
"Here, I've bought you a present."
Kagome blinked, her vision suddenly filled by a large, rectangular box wrapped in dark, glossy blue. He's changing the subject. She glared at him, but couldn't bring herself to interrupt the eager, boyish look on his face as he handed her the box. He might as well have wagged a tail, too.
"Open it," he prompted. "It's the bomb."
She dropped the box.
"You gave me a bomb?!"
"No—Miko, just open the box!"
Quickly, she tore through the wrapping paper and regarded the big white box.
The new Mac Air.
Kagome stilled, stunned. She loved it, but— "What is this?"
"You wanted it. Back at the Mac store."
"I glanced at it."
"It's yours. You're thinking of graduate school, correct? This should help."
She couldn't stop gaping. This was all too much—he was doing so much for her. "This is real?"
"Yes," he scoffed, glancing again at his wristwatch—when she finally realized he had no wristwatch at all. "It is undoubtedly legit."
A small white strip stuck out of his cuffs.
Kagome's eyes narrowed. That's it.
Out of impulse, she reached out and grabbed his arm, fingers grasping at the white strip of paper.
Translating Teen Slang
What are Young People Saying These Days?
He shifted, eyes on the floor like a chastised boy. "Yes, miko?"
"What have you been trying to do this entire night?"
"I do not know what you—"
He might as well have whimpered, and she suddenly felt horrible, like she had just kicked a puppy.
"It's only a small cheat sheet."
"For communicating with you."
"Since when did I talk like a fourteen-year-old One-directioner fangirl, Sesshomaru? We communicate just fine."
Sesshomaru sighed, fighting through the last of his hesitation. "I wanted to impress you."
"By breaking the menu?" she asked, incredulous.
"By doing all this," he motioned about the room. "I am not familiar with... all these colloquialisms, trends, gadgets... I just—I wanted us to have something in common." He looked away, pride and indifference still preventing him from being too open. "I do not watch the same TV shows or movies or listen to the same music as your friends. You cannot deny that a regular guy in the street would have more shared habits and interests with you than I do now."
" I recognize... Kagome," he paused, clenched his fist, struggling first before finally biting out the words. "I know I am not the ideal mate for you. I know that."
He heaved a sigh.
"But—tonight—I wanted to prove that wrong."
Her eyes softened. Sesshomaru, as self-important and regal as he was, often still had his insecurities—his and her compatibility, for one, or lack thereof. She wanted to tell him it didn't matter, that she fell in love for him because of his strength and grace, his honour and kindness—however hidden. She loved how he loved his lands and people, loved how he would die for the things he called his and gave promises he never intended to break. She loved how much he cared and protected, how much he gave even at his own expense, regardless of the cold, chilling exterior that concealed that selflessness and kind-hearted integrity.
"Oh Sesshomaru." She got up from her own seat to plant herself on his lap, arms wrapped tight around his neck. "I never asked you to be someone you're not."
He already had to hide what he was. She knew it pained him to have to conceal something that he was proud to be and prided himself in—being a Daiyokai. She was the last person she wanted him to pretend around with.
Grasping his face between her hands, she forced him to meet her eyes and lay her forehead against his.
"I fell in love with you," she whispered, "Not some ordinary guy with an iPhone who eats McDonalds and watches Hollywood movies. Okay?"
His grip tightened, his lips brushing hers. "Thank you, miko."
She smiled, pulling away. "Though I admit, all these preparations were impressive."
A smirk grazed his face, any sign of sadness of disappointment gone. "So you like it?"
"I love it."
"Then I have just one more thing to complete the night."
Kagome raised an eyebrow as Sesshomaru lifted her off him and strode to face the tabletop. He reached behind him to pull out a familiar white, rectangular device. "What?" she said, "Are you gonna make it rain iPods now?"
"No, Miko," he replied patiently, plugging the iPod into the system. His fingers swept through the touch-screen surface of the table, more carefully this time. With a flick of a finger, the room dimmed, leaving only the orange and sensual red glow of the evening lamps. He looked up at her—intensely, hungrily—before electronically drawing the white, see-through curtains close with another graze of a finger, leaving only vague shapes of the outside. The temperature rose, the room only slightly warmer, slightly more intimate. With a last flick of his thumb on the red button on the corner of the screen, the doors clicked. Locked.
Kagome fought a smile as she ambled over, breath mingling down the back of his neck.
"What are you doing?"
"Do you know I'm quite up-to-date with the latest music these days, Miko?"
"Music? What for?"
"To complete the atmosphere."
"First the dimmed lighting, now mood music?" Her lips brushed the now slightly sweating skin on the nape of his neck. "What kind of atmosphere are you trying to complete?"
He smirked at her, eyes boring into her soul with a gaze so passionate and devouring and predatory, even as one finger scrolled to find the music he was looking for.
She met his stare with the same seductive look, waiting for some soft, sweet harmony to fill the room—or, perhaps, something sharper, a dark, slow, low melody: sexier.
"Are you trying to seduce me, my lord?"
A slow, magnetizing smile.
"Are you seduced, my miko?"
She smirked. "Well, I guess we'll find out—"
—CALL 9-1-1 NOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!
DUH DUH DUH WAAAAAHH
DUH DUH WAAAAAH!
"Oh my god! Sesshomaru! What—what the hell is that?!"
He smiled, a lost little puppy waiting for a pat on the head.
"Do you like it? It's a popular genre these days."
DUH DUH DUH WAAAAAHH
BOW BOW BOW WAAAAAAAH!
"I believe it's called Dubstep."
=D Just a quick one-shot for some quick laughs!
Leave a review if you giggled, even just a little bit!
Let me know what your favorite adorable-Sesshomaru moment was, ahahaha.
Less Than Three series
(Check out the other one-shots from my profile)
A collection of one-shots on love and technology.
Romance just got a lot less romantic.
(Less Than Three #1)
There are many things the Lord of the Western Lands can do.
Texting is not one of them.
(One-shot, Sesshomaru X Kagome)
(Less Than Three #2)
In which the Lord of the Western Lands tries to decode the secret human language of smiley faces & texting slang.
And fails miserably.
(One-shot, Sesshomaru X Kagome)
If Ninjas Had Twitter
(Less Than Three #3)
Internet makes romance a lot less romantic.
(One-shot, Kakashi X Sakura)