Kagome jolts awake in the middle of the night to the sound of a sharp growl. Her eyes fly open, expecting to find some yokai about to wreck their camp and their day.
And then, as she takes in the familiar surroundings of the home she now shares with Sesshomaru, she relaxes. Gone are the days of tramping about all over the country looking for jewel shards, troublesome yokai, and any telltale hint of Kikyo or Naraku. Ever since her return to this time after high school, things have become far more peaceful.
And then she hears another growl.
The bedding beside hers is empty, so she assumes her mate must have gone to deal with something. She rises and slides open the door, and then freezes.
Her mate is so lost in his tasks, he doesn't even seem to see her. He snarls something under his breath as his claws snag the delicate silk he is using to wrap something.
A gift, she realizes, her heart softening for this stoic male she's married and mated. He might not fully understand human customs, but when she'd explained Christmas is a romantic holiday back in her time in Tokyo, he'd clearly taken the words to heart.
His claws are a clear impediment to his ability to use the delicate silk for wrapping, but it doesn't stop him from trying, either. Several ruined squares of cloth have been discarded in a pile beside him, yet he continues on.
As she watches, her mate carefully picks up the corners of the silk. He works to keep his claws from touching the fabric, attempting to carefully secure them around the little box in the enter of the wrapping. He manages to get through several steps, but when he is about to tie it, his claw snags the tip.
He snarls. "Perhaps I should cut these."
She nearly shouts out No! but holds herself back in time. She knows how important his claws are to him—to his kind—and she would rather have a few rends in her gift wrapping than see Sesshomaru experience that, even if they would grow back.
It's not her decision to make.
He eyes the cloth for a moment before discarding it and starting again. Evidently, he's decided against clipping his claws, at least for now. He works slower than before, carefully following each step. "Next year," he growls as he works, "I will use yokai spider silk. Human-produced silk is far too weak."
He drapes the two ends across the box. Kagome catches her breath as he picks up the ends to tie. He's so close now—
He doggedly continues, tying the ends so slowly she's afraid she'll need air before he stops.
But then he manages it.
She takes in a short breath as she hears his satisfied grunt. "She can find no fault with this," he preens to himself, oblivious to his mate hovering nearby. "Perhaps the human boys in her time could produce such wrapping with ease, but they could not tie the knot to resemble a flower. It is vastly superior."
Kagome bites back a laugh as she sneaks back into her bed, promising herself she'll make a big deal out of the wrapping. After all his hard work, it's the least he deserves.