Bittersweet by thetroll

Chapter 1

Kagome had done everything right. She'd worn a mask, restricted her movements, stayed away from anyone outside her home as much as possible.

COVID had found them anyway.

Sesshomaru, as a yokai, had either been immune or had had such a mild case he might as well have been, and he'd been tasked with caring for her and their youngest, a son, Hiroki, still living at home with them. As a hanyo, Hiroki had been more susceptible to COVID than either of them had hoped, but he'd recovered far quicker than she had.

The rest of their children had grown and moved out, but had stepped up to deliver groceries upon their father's request.

The first few days had felt like a normal cold or flu, but after day five, it had hit hard. Kagome had come out the other end of it another six days after that, miserable and weak but finally able to breathe and eat again.

Only to find she couldn't smell and she couldn't taste anything.

She couldn't smell or taste the dinner Sesshomaru had made as celebration for her and Hiroki's recovery. She couldn't smell the candles he'd lit for the dinner table nor could she smell her husband's scent when he'd pulled her into a hug at her ashen face.

She'd tried to put on a brave face, for Hiroki, to reassure him that everything was well.

But there was no enjoyment in the dinner that might as well have been ash in her mouth for all she could taste it. Sesshomaru was a good cook, but she could taste none of the spices he usually used.

She couldn't even taste the chocolate in the cake he'd had delivered for dessert.

It was the chocolate that ruined her attempt at a brave face but she didn't want to breakdown at the dinner table. She knew it was supposed to be sweet and flavorful, but it felt like chalk in her mouth at the first bite.

She fled, to the shower, turning on the water as hot as she could and stripping to stand under the hot water before she began to cry.

It's not fair, she thought as she sobbed. She was old enough to know better—tears would fix nothing—but she cried anyway. She cried for her loss and she cried for her own misery, the depression spiraling beyond anything she could cope with then.

What if she could never taste or smell anything again? Their eldest was a professional baker and often brought sweets to the house. It was a bonding experience to share them with her husband and children.

In fact, she'd made it tradition to celebrate with food. Graduations, anniversaries, even school events were all celebrated with food—a habit her own mother had begun and Kagome herself had continued.

Was she going to feel like an outsider in her own home now? Would she feel alienated from her own family's events? There was certainly no joy to be found in eating when she could smell or taste nothing.

She sobbed harder as another thought occurred to her. How could she cook herself if she didn't know what tasted good? She never measured anything when she cooked—a habit from her mother. All of her cooking was done according to taste.

And she could taste nothing.

She beat her fist against the wall, sobbing as she slowly slid to the floor.

"It is temporary," Sesshomaru said suddenly.

She blinked through her tears, unsurprised that her husband had followed after her or that he'd guessed why she was upset.

"They think," she corrected him from her place on the shower floor. She didn't have the energy to move. "No one really knows."

Sesshomaru's lips thinned but he was forced to agree. "No one knows for certain, but the odds indicate you will recover both taste and smell in time, Kagome."

She slapped a hand half-heartedly on the small pool of water in the shower. "I don't want to eat, Sesshomaru. Not like this," she pleaded, hoping he would understand. "Everything is wrong. It tastes wrong. It could be months or more before it's normal again. If it will be."

She felt the tears well up in her eyes again.

He slid open the shower door and, to her surprise, walked in, fully dressed, and pulled her up and into his embrace. He didn't rebuke her for her reaction but instead, rocked her, crooning to her as he'd often done with their own children when they were small or troubled.

"I was looking forward to your cooking," she said, crying all over again as she hugged him back. "I was so sick for days and I couldn't eat at all and I kept looking forward to eating food again and now this happens."

He ran one hand over her wet hair, mindful of his claws, as he rocked her. "You will recover, Kagome."

"And if I don't?" she challenged, voicing her worst fear. "I'm not sure I can handle this as the rest of forever."

He was silent for a moment. "We will figure it out if that happens. Are you not the one constantly reminding me that your kind are capable of fantastic scientific progress? If this is a permanent condition for many, I am sure your kind will discover some solution."

She didn't appreciate hearing the reminder, though she had indeed told him those very words on more than one occasion. "Harrharr, Sesshomaru," she grumbled, pulling back to see a teasing smirk on his face.

"While you recover, it would be a most opportune time," he said, that smirk spreading, "to help you learn to appreciate the foods you do not enjoy. After all, it's not as if you could taste them. Perhaps our next meal will consist of cooked carrots and stewed cabbage."

She sputtered, both because she'd pulled back enough that the shower had caught her full on the face and because of her mate's sardonic humor. "You wouldn't," she hissed. "If you dare, the next meal I cook for you is going to be made of wet dog food, Sesshomaru!"

He raised an eyebrow. "You, of course, should not cook until your senses recover, though I wouldn't be averse to your help in the kitchen. From what I have read, smelling strong odors like spices can help your body recover faster. Under supervision, of course, so the meals are still edible."

She glowered at him. "It's not funny, Sesshomaru."

The smirk fell away from his lips. "I did not say that your condition was," he told her solemnly. "If this were not a normal side effect, I would be extremely worried myself, but I am simply grateful that you sustained no other major health issues. You might be a longer lived human, Kagome, but you are still human and your body is still susceptible. I had worried..." he trailed off, but she could guess what he hadn't said.

I had worried you would not recover.

Kagome's irritation fled, though her depression was harder to push aside. "Sesshomaru," she murmured, pressing a small kiss to the side of his mouth, "I won't pretend I'm not upset about what my body is doing. I can't; it's really hard. Scent is the most important sense to you, so I'm sure you can understand why. But," she added when he opened his mouth, "you're right. It could have been a lot worse."

The words didn't really make her feel better and probably wouldn't until they both learned if this was her new 'normal' or not and decided on their next course of action.

But he was right; she could have died. She could have had permanent breathing issues.

But that also didn't mean that her own losses weren't severe in their own impact, either.

He seemed thoughtful as he nodded. "Perhaps I was wrong for thinking this was a minor side effect," he conceded, shifting his hand to cup her chin. "But that does not mean I will not help you however I can, Kagome. We can call the doctor tomorrow and see what she recommends to help your senses recover."

Kagome was suddenly weary and sagged against Sesshomaru. "Okay." She wrinkled her nose at the sensation of wet clothes against her bare skin. "Your clothes are wet, Sesshomaru."

He chuckled. "If you were in better shape, I would believe that to be a suggestion to remove them for other activities, Kagome," he teased, "but as it is, I believe you need to finish your shower and rest."

He pulled back from her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Do you need any assistance bathing?"

She considered, taking stock of her own body, and then shook her head. "I think I'll be okay."

"You will be," he said, giving her a soft kiss, "in time. Finish your shower, Kagome. I have already cleaned the sheets so you can rest."

He pulled back from her and moved to leave the shower.

"Sesshomaru?" she called out to him as the thought occurred to her. "I better not find any cooked carrots or steamed cabbage in my dinner tomorrow."

He simply chuckled as he left the bathroom.

Rotten inuyokai, she grumbled to herself, finishing her shower, and his rotten sense of humor.

Of course, if he did sneak in any of her least favorite foods, she would simply get him back. After all, the only upside to not being able to taste was if she made something truly terrible, she wouldn't have to suffer, too. She'd be able to eat it even if it was too spicy or had warring flavors that didn't agree.

She'd simply have to make a separate plate for Hiroki. Their son shouldn't have to suffer for his father's bad choices.

She didn't really feel any better as she climbed into the bed that she'd practically lived in for the last two weeks. She blew out the candle by their bed, not wanting to waste the wax when she couldn't smell the floral scent.

She lay in bed for awhile, lost in her own thoughts, before Sesshomaru came to bed himself, wrapping himself around her to cuddle her.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I found a list of foods online that you should be able to enjoy, even in this condition," he told her, pulling her tighter to him. "I will prepare some for you tomorrow."

She wasn't sure what food that would be or what to expect but felt her heart melt a little at his words. "No cooked carrots?" She shifted to stare up at him in mock suspicion.

She more felt than heard his answering laugh. "No cooked carrots," he said and then teased, "at least not tomorrow. Go to sleep, Kagome. Hiroki is already in his own bed."

She had a retort ready but a yawn interrupted her. "Okay," she gave in, yawning again. "But I'm serious about the carrots."

He kissed her but another yawn kept her from returning it. "Go to sleep," he said again.

She felt herself nodding off as he told her he loved her, but she made a mental note to keep an eye out for cooked carrots and steamed cabbage in her food tomorrow.

Just because she couldn't taste or smell didn't mean she didn't have eyes.

But Sesshomaru was true to his word: there would be no cooked carrots or steamed cabbage in her food. At least, not tomorrow.

A/N: I am still recovering from COVID myself. I lost my sense of smell and my sense of taste. I don't know how long they'll be gone or if they'll even come back. 

I needed some way of expressing that loss, so here we are. It's hard to express the depression that comes with a loss of smell and depression in any other way but in this.