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Sesshoumaru dragged a hand down his face, frustration and exhaustion causing the text he was trying to read to bleed together. He'd narrowed his choices to two schools, but even though he was certain of his career in medicine, he couldn't decide on a major.
Todai and Keio were both prestigious universities, and with his mother's backing, he wouldn't have to worry about student debt. However, while Keio was more based on research, the student expectations at the University of Tokyo were more rigorous. Todai was also more globally known by name, which would benefit him if he decided to travel.
But then there were the extracurricular activities. Sesshoumaru had never taken much of an interest in them in high school, but Meio was known for its baseball team, and a scout had approached him after filling in when his father's company had gone up against one of its rivals.
They'd only needed a body to stop from getting disqualified, but after a few warm-up throws, the coach had swapped him with their second pitcher.
They'd won the game by a landslide.
Tapping Keio's brochure, he leaned back in his chair. His stepmother would be happy if he joined a team, though she'd be happy if he made friends in general. He had a few acquaintances—and a small group he studied with regularly—but his father's new wife was hellbent on him making actual friends.
When they first met, he hadn't been sure what to make of the petite, dark-haired woman. She was soft-spoken but all smiles, asking him open-ended questions that required more than a simple yes or no answer. His parents were divorced but on civil terms, so he'd had no reason to dislike her, and he found it harder and harder to do so each time they interacted.
Even now, she wasn't pressuring him to go to university. She'd encouraged him to take a year off to travel and have fun, a soft sigh escaping her lips when he'd given her a confused look.
"I don't want you running yourself into the ground, Sesshoumaru-san," she'd said. "You're allowed to take a break now and then."
He'd scoffed at that. Breaks weren't needed. The faster he got into university, the faster he'd complete his career path and be able to—
His bedroom door squeaked open, causing Sesshoumaru to frown. Even Izayoi knocked before entering. Had she seen his light on and come to check on him? Swivelling in his chair, Sesshoumaru pinned the intruder with a harsh stare, ready to wave off any needless concern, but was met with a dark hallway.
His frown deepened until he heard something scratching against the floor, and he grimaced as a small ball of fluff crawled over the threshold. Checking his watch, he pursed his lips. "You are supposed to be in bed."
Golden eyes blinked up at him, tiny silver ears twitching before a gurgled coo echoed through his room. His half-brother was barely seven months old but intent on getting into as much trouble as possible. And now that he could crawl, it meant coming into Sesshoumaru's room whenever he wanted.
Inuyasha tried to push himself into a sitting position but ended up rolling side to side on his stomach instead, chubby fingers reaching for him expectantly.
The boy had no understanding of personal space.
Sesshoumaru turned back around in his chair. "It is not playtime," he stated. "And I am busy." Completely undeterred, Inuyasha righted himself and crawled toward him, grabbing his pant leg. Sesshoumaru nudged him away. "I told you, I am busy."
Inuyasha plopped onto the floor, and Sesshoumaru was worried he might start to wail, but the pup grabbed him again, slowly but surely pulling himself up onto his feet. Only one was flat on the floor, his balance precarious, and Sesshoumaru stared at him in shock.
"Did you not just start crawling?" he asked.
Realizing he'd done something significant, Inuyasha grinned up at him, baring a few tiny teeth as he tugged insistently on his pants. Stifling a groan, Sesshoumaru obliged, lifting him into his lap.
Inuyasha immediately grabbed the Todai brochure, attempting to chew on it. Sesshoumaru snatched it out of his hands, shifting them far enough away from his desk so he wouldn't be able to grab anything else.
"These are not a toy," he stated firmly. "I am trying to decide on which university to go to." The boy didn't understand, thinking Sesshoumaru was playing a game with him and reaching for the brochure again.
Brow furrowing, he kept it out of reach. He'd thought Inuyasha would go for the easier targets on his desk, but he was intent on going after Todai, and Sesshoumaru cocked his head at him.
Here he was, trying to devise a good enough reason to choose one of these schools, and the pup seemed to be doing it for him. Balancing Inuyasha on one knee, he thumbed through the brochure, one particular major catching his eye.
Pediatrics.
He glanced at his brother again, tiny body squirming as he latched onto the arm holding the brochure. Sighing, he finally relented, allowing him to sink his gums into the paper.
Todai it was.
Izayoi stretched, consciousness creeping into her mind. Checking the clock, she frowned. Usually, Inuyasha was up at this point, whimpering for his midnight feeding, but it was well past then, the telltale signs of sunrise peeking through the window.
She turned on the monitor, blinking away the last of her sleep to find his crib empty, and she sighed. Assuming Touga had heard him first, she slid from their bed. Normally, she'd be ecstatic that her husband got up with the baby, but he had an important business meeting that day, and she'd wanted him to get as much rest as possible.
Intent on scolding Touga, and reminding him that she didn't mind the late-night feeding on days like this, Izayoi padded along the hallway, swallowing a yelp when she all but bumped into him.
"I thought you'd be in the kitchen," she replied, rubbing her nose. Touga placed a finger to his lips, eyes gleaming in the darkness before motioning to the open door beside him. Reassessing her location, she realized it was Sesshoumaru's room and visibly winced.
She knew how much the stoic teen preferred his alone time—and personal space—but Inuyasha refused to leave him alone. She was constantly finding him in Sesshoumaru's room or playing with his things. She'd recently had to tape one of his school essays back together because Inuyasha had ripped it to pieces. Sesshoumaru had sneered at the baby, plucking the Frankensteined paper from her fingers when she'd explained what had happened.
"You're not supposed to be playing with him at night," she hissed. "He'll get used to it and never go back to sleep."
A chuckle ruffled her hair. "I have done nothing, dear wife," he replied. "I was finishing up last-minute preparations for today's meeting and noticed the open door."
"You let him disturb Sesshoumaru-san?" she hissed. "He's probably studying!"
Tougo shook his head, then pulled her in front of him, pointing into the room. Izayoi bit her lip, not wanting to intrude, but as she scanned the room for her stepson, a sharp gasp escaped as she realized what had captured Touga's attention.
She knew about the significance of youkai fur, having done extensive research before even approaching Touga. Some were born with it, while others manifested it during adulthood, but it was exceedingly precious, and sharing it with another person, pack or not, was very rare.
Sesshoumaru was asleep on the floor, still dressed in his school uniform, one arm folded under his head as a pillow. His pelt had been made into a makeshift bed, encircling Inuyasha's tiny form as he slept soundly beside him. He was sprawled on his back, one hand fisting the soft fur while the other was wrapped firmly around one of Sesshoumaru's fingers.
Tears pricked her eyes as she covered her mouth, not wanting to wake them up, and Touga rested his chin on her shoulder. "It appears Sesshoumaru is not as immune to the pup as we thought."
Izayoi gave a jerky nod, heart swelling. She'd tried so hard to be a good stepmother, giving him his space while supporting him as much as possible, but Inuyasha had latched onto his brother almost as quickly as his parents, and no amount of scolding or babyproofing could keep him away.
The angle of Sesshoumaru's body belied the calm rise and fall of his chest, protecting the infant from any that might seek to harm him, and Izayoi finally relaxed, letting Touga drag her away from the precious sight. "Do you think he'll deny it in the morning?" she whispered.
Touga snorted in her ear. "The pup's scent will not be so easily washed from his pelt. Besides," he grinned, showing off his dimples, "he will be forced to request his spare uniform during breakfast."
A giggle broke free, and she hugged her husband fiercely. Sesshoumaru might deny it, but now she knew just how well the brothers got along.
It was all she'd ever hoped for.