A/N: Well guys... This is it. The final chapter... *crying* Not a huge story, but I've loved every second of it. I hope all of you have enjoyed, and thanks to everyone who has left a review and followed along! It means the world to me. I genuinely love hearing your thoughts. I hope you all love this last chapter as much as I do!

Until next time, friends!

Sesshomaru stared up at the steps ascending the hill before him. The sun was just barely beginning to rise, the sky morphing from black to deep blue, gradually growing lighter with each passing moment. He'd been standing there for hours, waiting. Sesshomaru had arrived only last night, and he'd immediately headed for the shrine. Unfortunately, it was two in the morning, and Inuyasha had all but forced him to wait.

"You can't go barging into a shrine in the middle of the night," he'd said. "You'll scare the hell out of her family!"

Sesshomaru had come very close to maiming his brother then. "Kagome—"

"She'll be there in the morning," he'd said, softer. "Trust me. Wait until the morning. Her family hasn't met you yet, and her grandfather is stuck in the old ways. If he sees you waltz in there, he'll try to purify you. Won't do any damage, but having holy water thrown at you is still damn annoying."

So he waited. He stood just at the base of the steps, counting the minutes until it was acceptable to "barge in," as Inuyasha had phrased it. But it had taken all his strength not to tear the world apart in an effort to reach her, and even with all his willpower in use, he'd still struggled.

Up the steps was the shrine—which meant just up those steps was Kagome. His wife, his mate, the other half of him, the holder of his heart. And she was waiting for him.

The shrine had been a place Sesshomaru hadn't allowed himself to go—not until it was time to find her. Up until the war, when he'd lived nearby, it had been tantalizing and all too tempting, but he hadn't allowed himself to go there. Not when Kagome was too young to know who he was. He knew that one day, she would return to her own time as the woman he loved, erasing the version of herself that had no idea who he was.

He'd counted the days. Waited anxiously, eagerly, restlessly.

And then the war had started in the north and flipped his world upside down.

He would have been here to find Kagome had it not been his own family—his own pack—fighting in that war. When Rin grew up, she married an Ookami of Kouga's pack. His youki kept her alive and healthy long past her human years, and they had four children. They stayed in the north, but visited Sesshomaru yearly.

The war was in their territory. And Sesshomaru was torn between going to his life mate after centuries without her, or going to protect his family. As Lord of the West, he still had duties to tend to and allies he sided with. He would not let them down—he would not let his pack down.

But every day had been a knife in his heart.

During his absence, he'd sent trusted informants to keep watch over the Higurashi shrine. Sesshomaru had made certain that Kagome and her family, as well as the shrine property, had been kept safe.

Of course, he himself had watched over as often as he'd been able—until the war, that is. In the years following her departure from his own time, Sesshomaru had spent centuries guarding that shrine. He'd guarded the surrounding forest, watching as the trees dwindled over time as technology became more and more advanced and the humans expanded their territories. He'd watched as cities, both new and ancient, evolved and the world around him expanded.

But the shrine had always remained the same.

When Kagome's grandparents had taken over the shrine, the house they'd lived in on the property was old fashioned and outdated, decrepit even. Then they'd had it updated to fit their needs, and then it had been updated again when Kagome's parents took over as the shrine's keepers. But that was all that had changed. The family had taken great pride in the shrine over the centuries, maintaining its history but not altering it.

It was a piece of the familiar in an ever-changing world.

Kagome had told him stories, long ago, of the world she'd come from. She'd spun stories of electricity and shopping malls and strange types of currency that you swiped into a machine. She'd spun stories of technology and heightened medicine and surgeries and politics and entertainment. And all the while, Sesshomaru had struggled to grasp with the concept that a day would come that humans advanced so rapidly—far beyond the capabilities of even youkai. To see it with his own eyes was even more shocking.

And yet here he was—an ancient relic in a modern era.

Sesshomaru stared at the steps, made of stone and lining the hill upward to the property. Trees surrounded the property, but from where he stood, the city was new. It was as if the shrine was the last surviving piece of the past in a world now modernized and different.

He, too, remained unchanged. He stood stiffly before the Higurashi Shrine, wearing traditional clothing that was usually stored in the back of his closet. The world passed by, men in suits and short hair, and Sesshomaru looked entirely out of place. But he did it for her. It was always for her.

Today, he dressed in a way familiar to Kagome, wearing the same clothing she'd known him to wear so long ago. The same white kimono with red floral embellishment, the same pristine hakama, the same boots, the same golden sash. With the exception of his armor and mokomoko, he dressed just as he had the day Kagome had left.

He could have easily worn the Armani suit hanging in his closet, could have easily tied his long silver hair back into a polished ponytail, but he didn't. Ignoring the curious looks from the people that passed by, he wore what Kagome was familiar with.

There was so much different in this new era, and Kagome would see him for the first time since their separation as she remembered him. He'd left his hair long, he'd kept the same clothes, all for her. The only part of him that was truly different was the lack of markings. They were there, but concealed. They were too difficult to explain to curious humans.

Sesshomaru's jaw clenched, his fists tightening as he waited—as he forced himself to wait until she was awake. The past five hundred years had been torture. He had known there was a high possibility that the well would seal, but that hadn't stopped the pain when it actually did. Kagome had mentioned three years, which had been a bad enough outcome, but permanently? Nothing had prepared him for that.

Sesshomaru had spent years grieving, missing, waiting. Years knowing he would one day see her, but losing his sanity at the daunting wait ahead. Each day had been a test of his patience, a test of his will to keep from tearing the fabric of time to shreds in an effort to find Kagome. There had been a time when Inuyasha had to physically hold Sesshomaru back from ripping the well to pieces.

It had ended in a lot of blood, a lot of bruises, and two very angry Inuyoukai.

And, eventually, two brothers somehow growing closer over their mutual loss.

Despite it all, Sesshomaru had endured with the knowledge that he would one day find her again. He'd let the knowledge anchor him, spent countless days distracting himself by training Rin, and hunting—a lot.

And now it was finally time to see her again.

Five hundred years later, he had finally found her.

He took a deep breath, pulling in the scents around him and categorizing them one by one. The trees surrounding the shrine were ancient, and somehow parts of them still smelled like the forest so long ago. The Goshinboku, with its old power, was up the steps, its earthy, powerful scent mingling with the other trees. A bus blazed down the road behind him, the exhaust burning his nose. Beyond the forest, if he let his power move up the steps, he could smell earth and flowers and traces of purity.

It was all familiar. It was all different.

Golden eyes shifted upward as he let the scents of the shrine coat his senses. There was an older woman up there, her scent peaceful and similar to Kagome's—her mother. An elderly man with a rustic, spicy scent—her grandfather. An adolescent boy with a mild scent that mingled summer rain and tea leaves—her brother. All were sleeping peacefully, but—

Sesshomaru's eyes snapped open, his aura reaching out desperately as one familiar scent and an even more familiar aura exploded around him.

The scent was sweet, powerful and drugging. And the aura was latching onto his own with the same ferocity as his aura clung to hers.

He was moving before he could process his thoughts. Sesshomaru didn't even know he'd gone up the steps until he stood at the top. And by that time, he was frozen to the spot, his breath caught in his throat. Pulse racing, he stood, breathing in the scent of her and watching as his miko—his breathtaking, achingly beautiful miko—walked across the shrine courtyard.

She was just as stunning as he'd last seen her, and only a little changed. Her hair was longer, tumbling over her shoulders in shining waves. Her clouded eyes seemed serene. And she looked and smelled healthy, no longer crippled by her unexplained headaches.

Sesshomaru watched her for only a moment, soaking in the sight of her like a man starved of oxygen. Emotion clawed at his throat, squeezed his lungs, as he let himself take a moment simply to watch her.

It had been so long.

And he'd missed her like one missed the sun. He'd missed her like one missed water, and the mountains, and the sky. He'd missed her as if the color had drained from his world, and just by looking at her, he was seeing a spectrum of light and color for the first time.

Swallowing the unbidden emotion threatening to bring him to his knees, Sesshomaru moved toward her.

Pulling on a warm cardigan, Kagome stifled a yawn as she slipped out the door. Cool air wrapped around her, the quiet thrum of the city surrounding the shrine alerting her to the hour. Her alarm had been set for later that morning, but her internal alarm clock always seemed to wake her up early. This morning, she woke just before dawn.

No one else in the house had been awake when she'd stepped outside into the shrine courtyard, which she'd honestly been happy about. This time before anyone else was awake had become precious to her. It gave her time to be with her thoughts and enjoy the serenity of a quiet morning on her own. Today, as she moved through the courtyard, broom in hand as she swept up a few fallen leaves, she was even more thankful for the quiet as usual.

The night before, she'd been too restless to sleep. Something had felt off all night, and she couldn't quite place why.

All night she'd thought of Sesshomaru. Kagome repeatedly told herself that he was safe, that the war had kept him busy and that he would come for her soon. But it was hard to stay calm about it when she knew the war was over. But according to everything Inuyasha had told her, Sesshomaru's work hadn't ended with the war.

It was hard to imagine Sesshomaru as a grandfather, but Rin may as well have been his own flesh and blood. When she'd married and moved up north, the Ookami she'd married became a part of Sesshomaru's pack—as well as the children they'd had.

Inuyasha had told her that his family had been right there in the middle of the war, that Rin's children, who are grown and powerful hanyou, were fighting alongside their allies. And Sesshomaru had gone to help them. Then after the war, as Western Lord, he'd been in charge of the clean up. The political side—making negotiations, ensuring those affected by the war had what they needed to survive. Then there was the physical clean up. Youkai existence was hard enough to keep secret. Add in a war, which was also kept secret, and things became difficult.

It all made sense, and Kagome truthfully understood why it was taking so long for her daiyoukai to come to her. But that didn't stop the anger. Over a year—he could have at least sent her a letter every now and then.

And then there was the fear. It may have only been about a year for her, but for him it had been centuries. How much had he changed? Had he cut his hair, too? Had his personality changed? What if he'd injured himself in the war? What was new about him that she didn't know?

The thought that there may be sides of him now that she didn't know scared her.

With a sigh, Kagome turned the broom in her hands and began sweeping. This was a chore that was strange without eyesight. She knew where she needed to sweep, and she could tell when the broom made contact with leaves. But in terms of dirt and dust, she didn't really know if she was succeeding in her cleaning endeavors or not.

Oh well. It's the thought that counts, right?

And if she just sat there all the time, she'd go out of her mind. He'll be here soon, Inuyasha had said. How soon? It had been a few days since that conversation, and so far she'd heard nothing.

If she didn't burst into tears when she found Sesshomaru, there was a good chance she'd punch him.

Dried leaves skittered across the ground, crumbling as the rough broom swept the ground. A gust of breeze rushed past her, sending the leaves up into the air—and with them, an unsettling ripple of power washed over her. But not the kind of unsettling she'd gotten while hunting jewel shards all those years ago. Not the kind of unsettling that meant danger.

The kind of unsettling that meant something was different. The kind that implied something big was waiting just around the corner. The kind that meant there was about to be a storm on your emotions.

Kagome froze, tucking her hair behind her ear as she let her reiki expand around her. She stiffened, feeling the presence across the shrine. Someone standing, someone watching her. His power twined with hers, his aura caressing her own in a way that was both tender and intimate—and familiar.

A soft gasp sliced through the air.

She would know that aura anywhere—she would know him anywhere.

Her reiki mapped out her surroundings, and the shape of him formed in her mind's eye. Sesshomaru stood across the courtyard, at the top of the stone steps that led down to the sidewalk by the street. His build was just as powerful, just as familiar. It was as time had stood still just for him.

And then, as the tears spilled from her eyes and her trembling hands came to cover her mouth, he moved closer.

Sesshomaru stopped only a few feet away. He swallowed the tightness in his throat, willed himself not to grab her and pull her into his arms. Not yet, he told himself. Wait. He wanted to look at her first—just look at her. Let himself see all that the years had taken from him. Let himself see the beauty of his mate. Five hundred years had passed and he had not once forgotten her face. He remembered her like it was just yesterday—but he had not considered the possibility of change. She was the same—same beautiful face, same passionate spirit. But if it were possible, she was even more radiant.

And those eyes—those clouded, pale, blue eyes nearly destroyed him.

They were unseeing, but they saw right through him. Stripped him bare to see right into his soul.

Kagome's hands trembled as she stepped closer, and Sesshomaru wondered if she knew that she was holding her breath. But then, he hadn't realized until that moment that he'd been holding his.

He swallowed, golden eyes following her movements as she slowly pulled her hands away from her mouth and reached out to him silently—searching and seeking. Sesshomaru forced himself to stay put, forced himself not to gather her into his arms and kiss her tears away.

Breaths hitched.

Tears fell.

Fingers caressed.

With a slow cautiousness, Kagome traced the lines of his jaw. She swallowed back a gasp, moving her fingers to trace the contours of his mouth, his nose and eyes. The first touch had been a test of his willpower, and it had nearly unraveled his sanity, but Sesshomaru remained still. He leaned into her touch and brought a hand up to hold her wrist, if only to feel her skin as he let her take her time to remember his body. She felt the tips of his ears, the softness of his long hair between her fingertips. And as she went, the trembling in her hands grew, her tears falling faster.

Everyone around her had changed or disappeared. Sango, Miroku, Kaede—gone with time. And Inuyasha was so different that it was almost difficult to process. Kagome had been overwhelmed with emotion when she'd seen him for the first time, and it was so good to see him. But it wasn't him. Not how she remembered, anyway. Not how she could actually see them.

He had changed, and while she remembered what he looked like for the most part, the smaller differences in him now made her memories fuzzy. Inuyasha had told her that Kouga had piercings and a few tattoos now, and Inuyasha's hair was short and he had stubble. His old self had become a blur to her memory. And that hurt.

But Sesshomaru was here and he was beautiful and perfect and exactly the same as she remembered. Same long silky hair, same calm demeanor, same scent. And it dawned on Kagome that he did it all for her. He stayed the same so she would not forget his face when he finally found her again.

Thumbs tracing where she knew his markings to be, she took in a shaky breath. "Sesshomaru."

Hearing his name on her lips nearly brought him to his knees. "Kagome."

At his soft murmur, she completely fell apart, and Sesshomaru pulled her into his strong embrace, holding her as if he was afraid she would disappear. He moved his hands down her back, pulling her closer as he pressed his nose to the crook her of neck—right over the scar that marked her as his. Her scent was soothing, calming. He had missed her—he had missed her more than anything. Five centuries endured without her—it had been hell. But she smelled healthy and she looked well, and he knew that his decision had been the right one.

Body shaking with great sobs, Kagome clung to him, her fingers fisting in his hair as she held onto him as tightly as she could.

A sudden wave of rage washed over her scent like a tidal wave. She pulled away, punching him in the shoulder. And then again. "I— I can understand about Inuyasha," she sobbed. "But you! Where the hell have you been? You've been here— You've been here all this time and I don't hear anything? It's been over a year, Sesshomaru!"

Sesshomaru held her hands gently, stopping her from punching him. "I am sorry."

"Sorry?" she shrieked. "You're sorry? You could have sent a letter, a messenger— Anything!"

Her anger overpowered the rest of her scent. It was spicy and thick and dark as it coated his senses—and damn it all if he didn't love it. He'd missed the scent of her. He'd missed the spark of her anger, the passion that seemed to make her scent flourish. Sesshomaru smiled softly, pulling his furious mate back into his arms and kissing her so soundly that her argument was completely forgotten. The anger in her scent dissipated, her arms going still. Sesshomaru let go of her wrists, moving his hands around her body to hold her close.

"If you are done screaming at me," Sesshomaru said against her lips, his voice watery with unexpected emotion, "I have five hundred years to make up for. I intend to start now."

At that moment, it did not matter who saw them. It did not matter that the shrine was technically a public place and would soon be open to visitors. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the strong arms around her waist, the hands pushing the hair from her neck, the lips on her skin. All that mattered was the way he was kissing her and the caress of his fingers dipping beneath her shirt.

"I have missed you," he said through gritted teeth, fangs grazing her mating scar, "every second of every day. I have thought of you—every moment for five hundred years."

Her breath hitched. "Sesshomaru—"

"Are you healthy?"

More tears falling, she gave him a gentle smile when he moved to look at her. "I'm fine. I had a minor surgery that cured my headaches."

There had never been more relieving words. It only solidified his knowledge that he'd done the right thing. If it meant keeping her safe, keeping her healthy, he would do it all over again.

Only now, he didn't have to.

When Sesshomaru lifted her into his arms, she didn't ask where he was taking her. She didn't care. Using power she hadn't witnessed in far too long, he flashed away from the shrine, laying her down on soft grass when he touched ground again. His deep voice was warm and husky when he said, "Welcome home."

It was then that Kagome realized he'd brought her to his estate. Sesshomaru moved over her body, taking note of the somberness in her scent. At his low rumble, she smiled. "I've missed so much of your life."

Sesshomaru looked down at her with understanding. "I am immortal, mate," he said softly. "There is so much more."

"I know." She gave him a wobbly smile, her fingers threading through his hair. "I've missed you so much."

Brushing featherlight kisses against her skin, he moved up her body to find her lips. But he only kissed her briefly before cradling her face in his hands and pressing the tip of his nose to her jaw. Then just below her ear. Another to her chin and the tip of her nose.

"You have me," he said against her skin. "You have me until the end of time. I am yours, mate, and you are mine."

"I am yours," she breathed.

Sesshomaru growled, low and sensual, against her neck. "I have missed too many years with you. I will miss no more."

Pushing her shirt up, he tugged it over her head and moved his mouth down the column of her throat. Her breath came out in short puffs.

"Wait— My family—" Kagome moaned when his fingers hooked into the waistband of her jeans. "They'll worry."

Sesshomaru nosed her collarbone, her cleavage, rumbling with satisfaction at the desire he found in her scent. "I left a note."

Kagome blinked. She should have known. Even five hundred years later, her daiyoukai was the same—efficient, thorough, never missing a beat. She laughed, wiping her stray tears with the heel of her palm. "When did you— It doesn't matter. Of course you did."

"Are you complaining, my miko?"

The smile she gave him was brighter than the sun. "How could I ever complain when I finally have you again?"

"You will have me always," he said. "Always."

They spent the day making up for lost time, just as Sesshomaru had said they would. He reacquainted himself with her body, cherished each and every freckle on her skin. And only when they were both spent and Kagome's tears finally dried did he carry her inside—into their new home, where they would have many more centuries to replace the ones they'd lost.

And then they slept.

Wrapped around each other, they slept as if they hadn't slept in years. Of course, without his mate, what sleep Sesshomaru had gotten was never peaceful. But with Kagome in his arms, with her scent surrounding him and her softness against him, Sesshomaru slept hard.

He knew that he would have to take her back to the shrine, to explain everything and meet the family that had inadvertently given him the world in blessing him with Kagome. But that would come later. For now, he couldn't bring himself to leave the futon. Not when he'd finally found his mate again.

Kagome stirred beside him, heaving out a long sigh and stretching. Her eyes opened, blinking but not squinting against the morning light. Her reiki swirled around him, her aura entwining with his, and then she smiled.

"You're really here." She yawned. "I was afraid that it was all a dream."

Tracing gentle circles on the bare skin of her back, he kissed her brow. "I am real," he said softly. "I'm surprised to find you awake so early."

Kagome smiled, snuggling against his chest. "You know I've always loved the morning."

"You have."

Her hands smoothed up his chest, up his neck to cradle his face. Sesshomaru turned, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of her palm. "I have so much to tell you," she said. "And so many questions—about Rin and the war and everything that I've missed."

"Hnn." Pulling her closer, he brushed the tip of his nose along her jaw. "Later."

"Later," she agreed. And then she snuggled closer, stifling another yawn. "Tell me about the sunrise."

Allowing a small smile, Sesshomaru looked out through the open screens to the morning outside and began to paint her a picture, sparing no details. And it was then that Sesshomaru saw, for the first time in centuries, how magnificent the sunrise was.

Perhaps it was only the sunrise he found so breathtaking.

But he was inclined to think it was her.