A/N: So, I haven't written a thing in years. Waaaay back in the wondrous land that was high school, I wrote a pair of Gundam Wing fics that now make me want to cry as they are poorly written in my estimation. In those days, my trusty green note book went everywhere with me and was the original bearer of all my musings. These days, I am 4 years into college and completely in love with my faithful (and 4 year old) dell laptop. Gypsy is amazing. An oddly interesting, and yet simultaneously boring, co-op job has led to my random musings being poured out on my personal hard drive. I figure, they want me to only work when on the clock, they ought to let me use one of their computers. Pooh on them. This fic came to me. I have no clue how it shall end, how long it will be, or how often I'll be able to update. School owns my soul- year round ya'all. Life just sucks like this. I hope to update anywhere from every other week to once every two months. If it gets to two months, it's because school quarters are 10 weeks long. I am hoping to get a back log of chapters not yet posted so you never go that long without an update. This fic is rated for future chapters and I promise future A/N's will be much, much shorter.
Disclaimer: I don't own a damned thing. If I did, that $24,000 a year tuition and new car would be much, much easier to swallow.
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Sunshine glistened on the water, sending golden ripples across the surface as the waterfall hit the small pond. Small rainbows danced where the fine mist of the secluded waterfall encountered the brilliant rays, never staying in one spot long, making the whole area look as if it were enchanted by a woodland fairy. Adding to the illusion were the stone benches sitting around the edge of the pond, delicate carvings of vines and flowers in all stages of bloom racing over the legs, stretching towards the seat, making the granite slabs seem to light to support a person. Small trees, heavy with blooms in all shades of brilliant pink stood like sentries, guarding the fairy garden in the warm spring air. Pale green was everywhere as flowers pushed their way from the earth and the soft grass fields waved in the occasional puff of wind, not quite ready for the first cut of the year.
A slim woman sat on a bench in the niche with the waterfall, staring out at the rest of the park. Pure black hair, so soft and shimmering it looked to be blue at times, fell in gentle cascading waves down her back to play with the hem of her shirt. Artistically cut bangs flowed over her forehead, partially obscuring her right eye from sight when they escaped from being tucked behind her ear. Her blue and silver dress, cut to be reminiscent of the kimonos of Japans past, brushed her knees as she stood to slowly walk around the waterfall, her luminescent silver eyes taking in every detail. The wide sleeves danced about her elbows and the tails of the wide blue belt, covered in bold silver embroidery, flowed as the wind picked up, the playful spring breeze swirling around the niche.
She paused at the edge of the waterfalls domain, peering from between the trees to where the sounds children's laughter tinkled on the wind. The creak of swings, the sounds of little feet running and climbing, the groan of an old slide, all drifted with the laughter to the waiting ears of the small woman. She closed her eyes and wrapped her hands around her middle, the pain nearly overwhelming her.
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"Kagome! Thank the gods you're back! The editor of Vogue just called, he's wondering about the fall collection. Also, that university from Cincinnati is still on hold on line 3- they've been holding for an hour now. They really want you to come do that guest lecture thing and help with the senior fashion show."
"Kagome, oh thank goodness! The pink fabric we had made just got here and the gold it in is all wrong! There's no where near enough and it snags-"
"Girly, I thought we were doing lunch? Where did you go?"
Kagome sighed and held up her hands for silence. She pointed to the first woman to speak. "Call Vogue- not for two more weeks. The University needs to email me more information." She turned on the second woman, her flashing gray eyes barely glancing at the fabric. "You're right, it's wrong. Send it back. And the next batch had better not be so sheer, nor should it snag like that!" The last sentence was yelled over her shoulder as she turned and paced towards her office. The last of the women to greet her entrance to the fashion design office feel in step with the petite designer, taking her temper in stride. They had, after all, been friends for the last ten years.
Sango followed Kagome into her office and shut the pale pine wood door behind them. The walls to the rest of the vast revamped warehouse that housed the fashion haven were painted a pale pink, covered in a pattern of white sakura blossoms. Vast windows overlooked the streets of the bustling city outside, tinted to let the world in without letting them see a thing. The windows were draped with bright red sheers, pulled open to let in the sunlight and only closed during the dark nights when the bustling business finally lay silent. A metal and bamboo desk dominated one corner, the metal frame shaped like flowers in bloom and unabashedly art nouveau in its inspiration. The large, sturdy slab of bamboo that covered the top was startlingly modern in contrast. A state of the art computer, complete with wireless keyboard and mouse and a full speaker system took up one corner of the desk. The rest was covered in drawings and fabrics. Across the room lay a seating arrangement of overstuffed chocolate brown chairs and loveseat set up around a low coffee table that matched the desk. Bamboo floors shimmered under foot, the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the windows bringing out their gold highlights.
Sango plopped down in one of the chairs, sinking into its comfortable embrace, and propping her feet up on the table. Kagome took the chair opposite her friend and mirrored her friends pose.
"So? Lunch? We going or not, girlie?"
Kagome chuckled. "It's only just now noon, Sango. Did you skip breakfast again? Really, you ought to know better. It's the end of the quarter. You know, that wondrous time were we all pull all-niters and work like loons to get out the next collection to producers and magazines on time? You've only worked here with me since we opened the place."
"Gah. You people and your obsessive sewing." Sango shuddered and pulled a face. "I don't see how you people do that all day. Give me some numbers and a bunch people to order around and I'm quite happy. Which reminds me; I went ahead and fired that errand girl, Katrina. She was two hours late again and since I know you despise that sort of laziness and there are girls world round who would kill to work for you, I got rid of her."
Both women stood by unspoken agreement and grabbed their purses from their perch on the grand desk. Sango led the way out the door, and towards the building entrance. She paused at the front desk to inform the receptionist that they were going out and would be back in an hour and a half. As the business boss and creative genius slipped out for a lunch that didn't some from a microwave, the pace of work inside the posh warehouse picked up even more, everyone desperate to prove their worth in one of the worlds fastest growing fashion enterprises.
The sounds of flirting, gossip, and wheeling and dealing drifted through the air at the open air café. Despite common opinion that Las Vegas was only good for gambling, beyond the glittering lights of the strip lay a thriving metropolis, one that was quickly growing and quite friendly to a business growing faster than it could keep up with. It had seemed the perfect place to set up shop after Sango and Kagome had graduated from college. Despite having plenty of practical experience upon graduation, thanks to their universities intense 5 year degree programs that included a year and a half of co-op experience, they had been told they were crazy to starting their own business right away. In the beginning, it has been only the two young women, both barely 23, and desperate to prove to themselves, each other, and the world that a pair of women from a small town in Japan could make it in the intense world of fashion. Now the offices of Sakura Fashions employed 29 people and counting. Aids, errands girls, under designers, seamstresses, tailors, and an accountant filled out the other 27 current employees. While many of Sakura Fashions clothes were produced for high end stores only, a select few were made for mass production and sale in stores that the lower middle class could easily afford and enjoy. The business was currently valued at over a million dollars- a long way from the struggles Sango and Kagome had faced 7 years prior just to get a loan to open their doors.
The two stylish young women made their way to a table near the fence that separated the seating from the side walk. Putting down their trays, they both laid a napkin across their laps and tucked into the delicious salads the small café specialized in. Fresh baked, crusty bread accompanied the gourmet bowls of greens, chicken, and strawberries, tossed in vinaigrette. Sango took a huge bite of her salad and, closing her eyes, groaned.
"Now that," she gestured at her bowl with her fork, "means spring. Forget having to cut your grass, the blooming flowers, any of it- spring is really ushered in by the arrival of the Summer Special and its delicious strawberries."
Kagome laughed, the pure, rich tones turning a few heads- nearly all male. Sango sighed, envy getting the better of her. Despite being gorgeous, gifted, and always fabulously clad, Kagome never noticed the hungry looks the male half of the population seemed to be intent on sending her way. For Kagome, life had always been about proving herself. Her mother and grandfather had not been very happy when she had decided to go to America for college, instead of staying in Japan. Her grandfather was obsessively worried that she would forget her roots, her culture, and become "one of those crazy Americans". Sadly, that was direct quote. To say he was unhappy about her decision to stay in the States permanently would be the understatement of the century. Her mothers worries were more for her daughters safety and well being and likely would have been the same had Kagome moved to a large city such as, heaven forbid, downtown Tokyo. Kagome figured hers mothers worries would disappear with time, as Kagome proved to her time and again that she was fully capable of making her own decisions and surviving the consequences. Her grandfather, however, likely would never be fully happy until she moved home and married the man he picked out. He didn't object to her career, he simply felt she ought to have children by now. He was finally coming to accept her choices, and even occasionally could be heard bragging about his granddaughter. "the worlds best fashion designer".
"Sango, really, what would I do without you?"
"Does that mean I get a raise this year? We do have the money in the budget, you know. Well, if we didn't invest nearly every penny of our earnings into hiring more people and growing the business."
"Honestly, girl. We're only just turning 30, and while we're not taking home huge salaries, we are paying into our retirement funds well. So what are you so worried about? You know as well I do that investing all that money now means we could be rich in 10 more years."
"I know, I know, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy grumbling about not being rich while I'm young enough to enjoy it."
Kagome chuckled at her friend, then turned her attention back to the people hurrying up and down the side walk, mere inches from where she ate. She loved to watch people- it was where her best ideas always came from. Seeing the way they moved, how they sat, stood, walked, ran, all of it, gave her inspiration. Inherent in all clothing was the fact that it restricted movement in some way or another. By creating garments that gave back some of the movement, while being beautiful and practical, her designs had gathered international attention. The dress she herself wore was designed to allow for free movement of the arms and shoulders. This made it easier for her to spend hours drawing, or sewing. Conventional dress shirts that buttoned straight up the front restricted arm movement and to Kagome this felt like her creativity was being boxed up and locked down.
The two women finished their lunches, alternating between chit chat and people watching. Kagome watched for inspiration; Sango watched to gather ideas for marketing and business strategies. Movement tells a complex story of a person's thoughts and feelings. The more people she watched, the better idea she had of current moods and trends. Her ideas and marketing plans were as large a part of the businesses success as Kagomes colorful creations. Most designers were not, after all, business people.
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Sunlight poured in from the floor to ceiling bank of windows, the view of downtown New York City scarcely obscured by clouds. Here on the 80th floor, not much aside from birds showed up in the views from the massive windows. Deep grey paint covered the two walls of the giant corner office that weren't solid glass. Blood red curtains stood half open to keep the light from blinding the men gathered around a coffee table, sipping scotch and debating a business deal. For these men, wheeling and dealing was their very blood, their only passion. It wasn't about the next dollar, nor even the next million (for many of those present where millionaires). Instead, it was about the thrill of the hunt, the exaltation at the closing of a difficult deal, the joy of a perfectly worded contract. Law and finance where their playgrounds. Congress listened to their wishes and the president was on a first name basis with two of the men present.
The clear leader, however, of the men was the one with pure white hair. It was the color of a moonbeam as seen in the open plains of the Midwest, unclouded by pollution and pure in its brilliance. The color of his hair would have suggested age, as would the deference shown to him by the employees who floated in and out of the room, but the idea of advanced age was belied by the his straight back and muscular build. The aura that radiated around him was one of power, and he was clearly used to being obeyed without question.
"Kevin, I understand you are hesitant to invest $1.5 million. However, if we don't get an answer from you in the next hour, we are going to have to proceed without your involvement."
"Sesshomaru, sir, I must hear back from my business partner first. Our agreement states that neither of us invest more than $500,000 without the others full and complete agreement. He is in India at the moment, and likely not awake."
Sesshomaru took a sip from the glass tumbler in the right hand, amber liquid sparkling and complimenting the pure amber flecked gold of his eyes. "Then I suggest you go wake him up. One hour. No more."
Kevin got up from the black leather chair and, placing his tumbler on the glass toped table in between the two chairs, turned to leave the room. His cell phone was dialed and pressed to his ear before he crossed the thresh hold and slipped into the hall way.
A third man sat across from Sesshomaru, ignoring his glass and instead, silently watching everything unfold.
"You know he's not going to be able to get a hold of his partner in one hour. It's only 3 am there right now."
"I know that very well, Miroku. I am hoping to force him into making a solitary decision."
Miroku shook his head slightly, his black ponytail dragging over the collar of his black shirt. "That would break up the partnership. I've read their business contract- what your suggesting is forbidden. Without his partner, he doesn't the one and half million we need from him to finalize the building deal."
Sesshomaru merely raised a single eye brow and smirked.
"What are you refusing to share?"
"Miroku, my dear friend, you ought to know better by now, really. He's always hiding something." Both Sesshomaru and Miroku turned to look towards the windows, where a six foot tall man with long silver hair and brown eyes with golden highlights, stood lounging. He turned from the windows and paced over to where the two other men sat, and fell sideways into one of the chairs with a plop, his feet hanging over one armrest and his head resting on the other.
"Inuyasha, you baka, could you at least pretend to be civilized? You're destroying the integrity of the chair sitting like that! At this rate, this who place will have to be refurbished as often as your office is!"
"Shees, bro, think you could calm down? So, what are you hiding this time, anyways?"
"If you're that interested, research our potential business partner yourself. You could occasional do some work around this place. Or I could always get rid of you."
"You know I'm stuck here. Dad said so. It's just bad he put you in charge!"
As the brothers bickered in a time honored routine of dominance and pettiness, Miroku decided to do something worthwhile. He slipped over to the desk in the corner and hit the space bar, waking up the screen. Typing in Sesshomarus password (which his boss had no clue he knew), he began to search through the open documents, finally coming across the one that contained shorthand notes of all the research done on Kevin Gotz. He hummed in satisfaction when he finally found what he was after.
"Gotz just inherited 17 million. He has the money to make this deal as an individual, instead of as half a team."
Mirokus interjected finally forced the brothers to stop fighting- mostly because it left Inuyasha so distracted.
"Wait, what? How did he inherit that much?"
Miroku scanned through the notes. "Says here his great-aunt died. Had no clue she existed until she left him a bundle, and a house in the Alps."
"Monk, cease your use of my computer. I suppose I need to change the passwords- again."
Miroku looked towards the door hurriedly. "You know people don't believe in monks and demons, Sesshomaru. What if Gotz had heard? He'd think we're all crazy."
"But you are crazy, so I don't see what the issue is."
"Thanks, Yasha, you're such a good friend." Miroku sighed, and moved back to the seating arrangement and away from the computer.
Sesshomaru held a single, elegant hand in the air, signaling for the friends to cease their bickering so he could listen. "Gotz is returning."
The door pushed open soundlessly, and the dejected looking Gotz slipped back inside. From the hang on his head and the soundless sigh that escaped his lips, it was obvious he had been unable to get a hold of his partner. Despite having the money to do the deal alone, doing so would mean the destruction of the partnership that had served him so well the last 10 years. Neither man had had the money to make major investments on his own, but the massive investments people like Sesshomaru demanded was what they both needed to take their wealth to the next level. So they had joined forces, and money, and together had doubled their yearly incomes. This plan of Sesshomarus was a once in a lifetime chance. The likelihood of success was high, and the initial investment could be doubled. If he invested on his own, from his inheritance, he would forever be a force to be reckoned with and he would finally have enough to start deals, instead of being brought in on others deals to round out the last million. But if the investment failed, he would be without a partner and the next few years would be spent engaged in whatever petty investment he would be allowed into. Ditching ones partner and having the scheme fail was a mark of an idiot and it would ruin his prospects. He had arrived at a decision, though, after spending 50 minutes pacing and thinking frantically.
"Sesshomaru, I would be honored to participate in this business venture. My partner... will not be involved."
"Good. I'll have my secretary send you all the necessary paperwork and this deal will be finalized by tomorrow evening. It's nice to have you on board, Kevin. Shall we go to dinner to finalize the plans?"
The other men all nodded their assent and soon the group was seated in one of New York's finest restaurants. After a 5 course meal, a couple bottles of good wine, and a long discussion covering the deal as well as current events, Kevin said his good byes to the group and left. He needed time to think over the monumental decision he had made.
After Kevin's departure, Sesshomaru turned to Miroku and Inuyasha to discuss other business dealings they had going on. Plans were made for the group to fly to California to spend a week at one of the hotels the corporation owned and perform spot checks at the companies in the area. Or so Sesshomaru thought.
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A/N2: Please review and send all thoughts and feelings, be they good or bad. Explain either way. ^^ Oh, and I'm prone to skipping words and bouts of bad grammar. Anyone want to volunteer to beta? Just put your email in your review and I'll get back to you. This fic will be posted on ffn and Single Spark. The lemons will only appear on SS (the fic hasn't told me yet that there will be lemons, so I'm telling the fic that instead. ^^ ) My muse is insane, ignore her.