Chapter Text
The elevator opened with a ding, and Kagome Higurashi stepped onto the office floor, bundled paper in hand. She typically never came up here, but some bigwig was having a meeting with the higher-ups, and she'd been the lucky one to pick the shortest straw.
She'd planned on spending the entire day in her cubicle, regretting her fashion choices, but no, fate decided that forcing her through multiple hallways and storage rooms, along with parading her in front of a bunch of machoistic businessmen, was a better idea.
The rich, scarlet hue of her sweater had seemed like such a good idea when she'd bought it. Yuka had been beside herself when she'd tried it on, refusing to even let her take it off before paying. The other two women had gushed over how much it brought out her eyes, but Yuka couldn't get over how good everything else looked in it.
Kagome had never been one to dress to impress, but she also hadn't had a date in almost two years and figured it couldn't hurt. Thinking she'd try it out at work, she'd added a collared shirt underneath, hoping to tone down how "amazing her tits looked" according to Yuka, but all the extra attention was making her want to crawl under her desk.
Gazes lingered, brows raised, and Kagome had to pretend she was still wearing her usual navy business attire. And she couldn't even take the damn thing off, because she'd stupidly worn a bra to match underneath.
Sighing, she knocked on the meeting room door, praying that no further explanation was needed on the materials. They should already have the masters; all she was bringing were extra copies, as they'd miscalculated the number of people in attendance.
A gruff voice answered, and she turned the knob, avoiding all eye contact as she set the materials down on the table. She arranged them in sequential order on the table before realizing they'd all stopped talking. Biting the inside of her cheek, she stepped back, hands clasped in front of her. "Everything should be here," she said.
"Holy shit, you're gorgeous."
Head whipping to the side, she met the gaze of the dark-haired man at the head of the table. He was standing in front of the projection screen, the laser pointer in his hand currently reflecting off the ceiling.
A white shirt was pulled across broad shoulders, sleeves rolled to reveal tanned forearms. A braid hung over one shoulder, and his hair had probably been slicked back at some point, but his bangs had come loose, some sticking straight up in the air. At first glance, Kagome might've considered him attractive, but as she continued to stare, his mouth curved up into an arrogant smirk, and she was instantly on edge.
"Whatever they're paying you, I'll double it if you come work for me," he said, leaning over the table.
Her managing director cleared his throat. "That could be seen as harassment," he said, trying for a light tone.
"Not like that's stopped him before," someone else replied.
Half of the room snickered, but her managing director clasped his hands together firmly. "We should return to the topic at hand."
Kagome shot him a grateful look, then bowed. "Please call us if there's anything else you need."
"How about your phone number?" the man called as she exited the room. Kagome scowled, arms tense as she shut the door.
She was never wearing this sweater again.
"I never got your name."
Kagome stiffened in her chair, managing a deep breath before returning to the spreadsheet she was working on. "I never offered it," she replied coolly.
The hope that he'd get the message and move on was quickly dashed as he leaned against the corner of her cubicle. She continued typing for a solid minute before sighing and turning around. "Is there something I can help you with?" Dark blue eyes lit up at the open-ended question, and she amended it with, "Anything work-related."
"Party pooper."
Keeping her shoulders back, she crossed her ankles, making sure her body language was less than inviting. "Did the meeting go well?" she asked, changing the subject. She didn't want him sticking around, but at least this way, no one could accuse her of fraternizing during work hours.
He slumped slightly, running a hand through his hair and displacing more of his bangs. "Presentations aren't my strong suit, but our usual manager called in sick, so I got stuck with the job." He gave her another once over. "Can't say it was a complete waste of time, though."
"I hope the collaboration goes well," she said stiffly.
"What's your regular position?" he asked, arms crossed. "You don't look like a secretary."
"None of your business." The barb came out before she could stop it, but the snap of her reply only made him smile more.
"Damn, you really are hot." He fished a card out of his back pocket, scribbling something on the back before handing it to her. Good manners dictated she accept, and considering he was from a different company, she didn't want to cause any rifts before the contracts were signed.
Bankotsu Nintai was written in bold lettering in the middle of the card, the name of his company underneath, along with his business email and extension. Kagome turned it over and bristled at the personal phone number in red ink.
She scowled at him, half-tempted to toss it in the trash. "Weren't you warned about harassment?" she asked.
He shrugged a shoulder. "All I'm doing is passing along my contact information." He winked at her. "Even if you don't need it, at least you have it." His gaze hadn't left her face during their entire conversation, giving him a little more credibility than some of the others on her floor, but as he finally stepped out of her cubicle, he gave her that same arrogant smile. "I like the sweater, by the way. Brings out your eyes."
'That's it,' Kagome thought as he walked away with a nonchalant wave over his shoulder and a swagger to his step, 'I'm burning it."
The rest of the week passed in a blur, giving Kagome very little time to think about anything other than numbers and percentages. Her weekend plans were supposed to involve her couch and a recently updated true-crime documentary, but Yuka had somehow convinced her to put her documentary on hold in favour of joining her and the others at some new club she'd discovered.
It wasn't in the best part of town, but the bouncer had seemed nice, advising them which part of the bar menu was the best before ushering them inside. Techno music pulsed through the floor, and Kagome had hooked her arms around Ayumi and Eri as Yuka led them toward the bar.
Multiple auras swirled around the dancefloor, mingling between booze and sweat, and Kagome blinked in surprise as claws, pointed ears, and a few tails came into focus. "A youkai bar?" she asked when Yuka came within earshot.
Her friend grinned wickedly. "Told you you should've worn the red sweater," she said.
"I'm not wearing a sweater to a club," Kagome shot back. She'd opted for royal blue high-waisted shorts and a black tank top instead, wanting something she could easily move in—and easily deter any unwanted advances.
"Then we need to get you some clubwear in the same colour." She flagged down the bartender and placed an order of shots.
Kagome frowned. "That's not what the bartender suggested."
"Yuka's been wanting to try this drink for like a month," Eri said, waving her off.
Ayumi grinned, vibrating with excitement. "It's all the rage online. It's supposed to taste different to everyone."
Kagome wrinkled her nose when the glasses showed up. It looked like water. The other women grabbed their respective glasses, turning on her with an expectant look. Kagome groaned. "Don't give me the puppy eyes!"
"Take the shot. Take the shot," they chanted, cheering when she sighed in defeat, clinking her glass against theirs before they all downed the clear liquid. Gasping, Kagome gripped the bartop. There was no distinct taste, and it burned all the way down. Her stomach churned, and she had to swallow several times. She looked at her friends, expecting the same reaction, but they were all licking their lips.
"I'm going to need another one of those later," Yuka said, slamming her glass back on the bar.
"Me too!" the other two chirped.
Kagome shook her head. "I'll pass," she said, clearing her throat. Her friends rolled their eyes, then dragged her onto the dance floor.
Ten minutes later, Kagome knew something was wrong. The burning hadn't stopped, and she'd broken out into a cold sweat. She'd told her friends she needed to fix her hair before stumbling into the bathroom. The first few stalls were locked—she couldn't tell if they were actually occupied or just stuck—so she opted for the last one.
The door banged off the wall, and she winced as her knees hit the floor, stomach rolling. Nothing came out, even though she'd been sure to eat before leaving her apartment, and she dry heaved several times. Vision blurring, she gripped the edge of the toilet. She still hadn't figured out what had been in the drink.
When she'd broken away from her friends, they'd called after her to get a second round, but she'd pushed through the crowd to the lighted bathrooms. Once the room stopped spinning, she tried to get to her feet, but found that her legs wouldn't work. Whimpering, she crawled out of the stall, slumping against the wall beside the sink.
She waited five minutes, hoping that someone else would come into the bathroom and help, but the lights continued to flash under the door without it actually opening. She eventually gave up, fumbling with her purse, but her hands shook so badly that she dropped the bag, items scattering across the floor.
She hadn't had time to properly pack her clubbing bag after getting home from work. Yuka had shown up at her apartment with barely an hour's notice, only giving Kagome time to shower and change before her friend descended on her to do her makeup. She'd managed to eat every time Yuka reached for a new item, but she'd basically just grabbed a handful of things from her work bag before being dragged out the door.
Clenching her eyes shut to keep the room from spinning faster, she reached blindly around her, picking up what she could. Something sharp pricked her palm, and she hissed before slowly opening her eyes. The glossy business card contrasted against the bathroom floor. Kagome stared at it while she gathered up the rest of her things.
The fact that the girls hadn't immediately come after her spoke volumes about how much fun they were having, and she didn't want to ruin their night for what might be a bad allergic reaction. She could call an Uber, but there was still the issue of her legs not working, and she was feeling vulnerable enough as it was.
His comment about being distracted by her eyes prompted her to unlock her phone. Her breath was shallow, like she couldn't get enough air into her lungs, and she pressed her phone hard against her ear.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three—
"Yo." That was it. Just a single syllable, yet it felt like a lifeline.
She tried to find her voice, hoping that the volume of the music didn't drown her out. "Mr. Nintai?" she asked, just to be sure.
"Who is this?"
Attempting to clear her throat led to another dry heave, but she held onto the phone, knuckles turning white. "You gave me your card earlier this week at the office."
There was a pause on the other end before his voice became clearer. Brighter. "Damn, I didn't think I'd hear back from you. Did you decide to let me rock your world?"
She could almost hear his smirk, and focusing on it seemed to help clear away the blurriness from the edge of her vision. Everything about this screamed it was a bad idea, but she couldn't think of anyone else. "I need help."
She hated the way her voice warbled, but his immediately sharpened. "Where are you?"
She described the bar, as she couldn't remember the name. "I don't know what happened. We all had a drink. The others seem fine, but—" She swallowed the bile, attempting to wiggle her toes. Nothing. "—I can't move my legs."
There was scuffling on the end; the phone might've changed ears, but all Kagome could do was focus on his voice. He asked her more questions about the street they'd entered from and what the drink had looked like.
"It was a shot. It looked like water but tasted vile. None of the other girls seemed affected by it, though," she reiterated. The sound of a door slamming eased her nerves. "I'm sorry to bother you."
"Not a bother, babe," he replied. An engine revved, and he cut out for a moment before his voice sounded further away. "At least now I've got your number." She wanted to laugh, because even though she'd known him for less than ten minutes, he apparently had a good sense of humour.
The door to the bathroom suddenly opened, flashing lights lighting up the porcelain tiles, and her friends spilled in one after another, each one giggling harder than the next. Eri spied her first, brow crinkling in confusion. "Did you fall down?" she asked.
Yuka pushed past her, hands in the air. "We came to rescue you!"
Giggling harder, Ayumi checked her reflection. "Come on, Kags. The floor is super gross."
"I can't," she replied weakly, motioning to her legs as if that would explain it. Nintai echoed the words in her ear, and she shook her head. "Not you, my friends are here."
"Then tell them to get their asses in gear and get you out of there," he urged. "The longer you stay in there, the worse it's gonna get."
Kagome lay her head against the wall, trying to figure out which request to make first, and when she opened her eyes, Eri was squatting in front of her. "What's wrong? You look really pale."
Yuka rolled her eyes. "She just needs another drink." The thought of having another of whatever Yuka had fed her had Kagome's stomach rolling, and she covered her mouth to keep her stomach contents in her stomach.
"The fuck you do," Nintai growled, having overheard her. "Don't take anything from anyone."
Nodding in agreement, she pointed to her legs again. "I don't feel good. My legs don't work," she explained.
Eri seemed to be the only one paying attention as Yuka was now looking at her reflection, and Ayumi had disappeared into one of the stalls. "Do you want to go home?"
"We only just got here!" Yuka whined, fluffing her hair. "Come on, don't be a real party pooper." She grabbed her hand, and Kagome yelped as her phone skittered across the floor. Her friend ignored it, trying to get Kagome to her feet, but her legs were just as useless as before, and she barely rose an inch off the floor.
Yuka frowned, and Eri became concerned, collecting the rest of her things off the floor. "Did you hurt yourself?"
Kagome shook her head. "My legs don't work," she repeated. "I need my phone—"
"I got it!" Ayumi called, picking it off the floor. She stared at the screen for a moment before pressing the screen. "You butt-dialed some rando."
Eyes widening, Kagome reached for her phone again. "It wasn't a rando! He's coming to get me!" Had she given him enough information? Or would he turn around now that her friends had shown up?
She still needed him.
All three women stilled, Ayumi and Yuka catching eyes before the former grinned. "You didn't tell us you had a boyfriend," she said slyly.
"Yeah, spill!" Yuka said.
Eri handed her a now full purse, concern written all over her face. At least she was taking it seriously. "Not a boyfriend," Kagome said through clenched teeth. The room had stopped spinning, but the burning in her stomach was still going strong. "Guy from work."
"So it is a rando." Yuka pursed her lips. "Ditching us for a hook-up is against the rules."
Kagome whimpered, willing them to understand. Her brain was turning fuzzy, words harder to form, and she gave Eri an imploring look. Her friend patted her shoulder, then rose to her feet. "I'm going to get you some water." She opened the door, then jumped back, eyes wide. "This is the women's bathroom!"
A harsh voice sounded on the other side. "Listen lady, I've already got the fuckin' bouncer on my ass. I'm either going around you or through you."
To her credit, Eri doubled down, her protective streak making her lift her chin, one arm blocking his way. "Use the men's bathroom. There's never a lineup there."
"I don't need to take a piss!" he argued. He shoved her out of the way, barely getting one foot inside before he spotted her. "Ah, shit. I thought it might be a ruse."
If she weren't already on the floor, she'd have slumped in relief. Steeling herself as best she could, she lifted her arms, reaching out to him, and he was beside her in an instant. His hair was damp but still braided, and he placed the back of his hand against her forehead.
"I wasn't sure if you were still coming," she said.
"I've been hung up on before," he replied. The lightness of his tone didn't match the intense expression on his face, but she was just glad he'd made it. Now she could go home.
"Kagome, do you even know this guy?" Ayumi hissed. She was trying to get between them, but Nintai had already pulled her into his arms, standing up without so much as an exhale. He was warm to the touch, and after sitting on the grimy bathroom floor for so long, Kagome was ready for something more appealing.
She leaned against him, head tucked under his chin, and she managed to wrap one arm around his neck. It finally sank in that something had happened, but instead of helping to get her out, her friends stood in their way.
He stood a foot above all of them, but together they were far less intimidated. Normally, Kagome would've applauded their bravado, but all she wanted was to go home. "I'm fine," she whispered.
None of them believed her, including him. "Y'all can follow me if you want, but I'm taking her out of here whether you like it or not." He gave them a meaningful look. "And I don't care if I have to take you three out to do it."
The women looked at each other before Eri stepped forward. "Kagome, we get that you're sick, but who is this guy?"
She exhaled slowly. "Someone safe."
A snort warmed her ear, bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat. "Damn. First you call me, and now you're calling me safe? You are sick."
She managed to shake her head, arm tightening around his neck. "He's fine, girls, I promise. Ping my location later if you're worried." They finally let them through, falling close behind as he strode toward the exit. Kagome thought she heard him say something to the bouncer as they passed, but it was taking everything in her to stay awake, so she concentrated on his heartbeat instead.
"Did you get in trouble?" she asked as they finally broke away from the crowd at the entrance.
"Nah," he replied, stride never slowing. "He got all quiet when I handed him a fifty."
She tried to pull back, but he held tight. "I'll pay you back."
"The hell you will." They stopped, and he fished his keys out of his pocket without letting her go. "Part of the Bankotsu-rescue special."
She groaned as he got the door open. "Some princess I am," she muttered. Her clothes felt too tight, and she didn't even want to think about what kind of stains were on her shorts from the bathroom floor.
"I like the sweater better," he admitted softly, trying for levity.
Something between a cough and a giggle escaped her lips. "Because it makes my chest look great?" she guessed.
He didn't look at her as he slid her into the passenger seat. "I'm obligated to deny that fact because you wore it to work." Kagome blinked slowly, head still spinning. "But honestly, I was too busy looking at your eyes to notice your tits."
"And now?" she asked, fighting gravity by gripping the seatbelt.
He was in the driver's seat a moment later, catching her mid-slide and easing her head down into his lap. "You're sick, it's different."
The engine roared to life, vibrating under his thighs, and Kagome frowned as she looked up at him. "Why didn't you put me in the back?" she asked. It was the more logical choice. Up here, she'd just be in the way.
"Lets me keep an eye on you in case you get worse." He pulled away from the curb, then asked for her address. She remembered it easily enough, and he nodded in approval. "At least we know it isn't one of the regular drugs," he muttered.
"How do you know?"
He lay back in the seat, one hand on the wheel while the other checked her pulse. Callused fingers brushed her neck before combing through her hair. "Well, you're still conscious, for one. But you also haven't forgotten basic shit like your address."
"And that's good?" She wasn't up on the latest party drugs. She couldn't even think of when someone could've slipped it into her drink.
"Means I don't have to murder anyone." His voice was so deadpan that she smiled. Curling up in his lap felt like a much better idea, but she knew it wouldn't be long before they got to her apartment, and he still had to get her inside.
He'd dropped everything the moment she'd asked for help, though. That definitely counted for something. Maybe first impressions weren't all they were cracked up to be.
