There was a long moment of stunned silence before the auditorium burst into chaos. Sesshoumaru stood, the picture of silent dignity, while his human audience seethed like a stormy sea; some fled in terror, most railed in outrage. Still he stood, waiting.

"Now," he continued when the volume of his audience had died down somewhat, "I have trusted humanity with my greatest secret." The auditorium had quieted again. "I have not changed since yesterday. Is there any human here who fears me no more now than you did then?"

The question was intended to be rhetorical, but a movement out of the corner of his eye startled him. He glanced to his left, and found Kagome emerging from the wings. His eyes begged her to stay back, to stay safe, to stay out of the public eye, but she strode resolutely toward him, her face lit with adoration.

She reached his side, her eyes not wavering from his face. He held out his arm to her, and she stepped into his embrace, burying her face in his lapel. After a moment, she drew back, eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"My name is Higurashi Kagome," she said, just loud enough that the microphone picked it up. "And I will never fear you." Helpless to resist, Sesshoumaru pressed his lips against hers, drawing her tight against him. She returned his kiss with abandon.

In that instant, all around Japan, youkai were shown that there were humans who could accept them.

In Narita, Sesshoumaru's housekeeper and her twin sister watched with teary eyes while the 'young master' revealed himself to the hateful gaze of humanity. At Kagome's kiss, though, their eyes met; a decisive nod, and Ah and Un looked into each other's scaled faces for the first time in a hundred years.

In Kyoto, Japan's only true supermodel pursed her painted lips at the screen, biting back a sigh that Taisho-san had finally been caught by another woman. Ah, well. She flicked off the TV and called her photographer. The following day, Kagura's image was all over the media – with her natural red eyes, and her bare wrist held up in challenge.

In Sapporo, the patrons of The Purple Iris, the hippest club in Northern Japan, were faced with the fanged face of their outgoing proprietress, her red pigtails bobbing defiantly.

In Okinawa, Japan's favorite heartthrob started discussing a film about wolves with his packmates, his tail swishing in excitement for the first time in years.

In Tokyo, all hell broke loose.

Japan's foremost criminal defense attorney took off his bracelet; he was a flea youkai.

Japan's most ruthless politician took off his bracelet; he was a spider hanyou.

Japan's most prominent medical researcher took off her bracelet; she was a phoenix youkai.

Japan's best-loved television psychiatrist took off his bracelet; he was a magnolia tree youkai.

Japan's most vocal civil rights activist took off her bracelet; she was a bat hanyou.

Japan's most decorated general took off his bracelet; he was a dragon.

Japan's most celebrated artist took off her bracelet; she was a thunder elemental.

It took several days for youkai to gain courage, but following the example of the braver celebrities, they gradually did. Across the country, humans saw their friends and neighbors shimmer and change, reappearing with markings on their skin or different-colored hair and eyes.

In her apartment in downtown Tokyo, where she'd been hiding for nearly a week, Yura stood before her bathroom mirror and watched as her hair turned a dark, rich green; with a grin, she patted her bob and preened, magenta eyes sparkling. In the Taisho mansion, the butler rubbed at his green beak and squawked in irritation when he tripped over his own webbed feet. In the living room of the Sunset Shrine, Kotoko bit her lip as Kagome's brother and mother gaped at her hanyou cat ears. In Jin's, Jinenji and Manten looked at each other in trepidation, terrified of human reactions to their ugliness – but the few regulars who appeared at their door were only hesitant, not horrified. The children, while curious at first, soon forgot that they had ever known anything different, and played happily on the new swings.

Gradually, gradually, the tide of public opinion turned. After a week, the mobs were a memory. After a month, the bolder youkai hesitantly began returning to work, walking the streets openly without concealments. After a year, youkai children were back in school. Ungai was tried for kidnapping and unlawful restraint; the anti-youkai coalitions dissolved under the weight of public outrage, as humans learned the truth about their neighbors' children's 'illnesses' and 'extended holidays.' Eventually, all the kidnapped children were reunited with their families, the imprisoned youkai adults released. In bars, in conference rooms, in courts, the braver humans defended their youkai friends and coworkers from lingering bigotry and discrimination, until gradually, gradually, even that faded.

In the meanwhile, Kagome and Sesshoumaru had some planning to do.

"I'm not wearing a bloody twelve-layer kimono, dammit," Kagome groused. "Or a wig."

"It is tradition," Sesshoumaru rumbled, lifting one of his mother's formal kimonos carefully out of its trunk. It was made from white moth-youkai silk, and glittered in the sunlight like spun glass. By his elbow, Kagome gasped.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," she yelped, waving her arms frantically. "I'm not wearing that."

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Sesshoumaru," she pleaded, "this is me we're talking about. I put that on, the first thing I do is going to be to knock over an ink pot or pour a glass of wine on myself. No. Hell no. I'm not a risking an artifact that rare or that beautiful—"

Her tirade was interrupted by a pair of warm lips.

"Rare," he murmured against her jaw, "yes, indeed." His lips moved down to her throat. "Beautiful, oh yes," he whispered against her skin, making her shiver. "Nothing," he finished, nipping gently at her ear, "could be better suited to you."

She moaned and allowed him to pull her flush against his hard body, arching under his hands.

"Mate," he murmured into her hair as her hands grasped the firm flesh of his ass, belatedly realizing that they were unlikely to get anything accomplished today if they continued. "We have planning to do." Her tongue was working some kind of sorcery on his collarbone; he felt his spine prickle in anticipation. "Your mother wants your wedding dress chosen by this evening."

"I can think of any number of things I'd rather be doing," she answered with a wicked smirk. "And not one of them involves clothing."

With a groan of surrender, Sesshoumaru lifted her into his arms and left the details of the human ceremony for another day. Now that they were mated, she would share his lifespan; there was no hurry. The worst of the darkness had passed, and what lay ahead of them was a long, long lifetime of sunshine.

That's all, folks! Thanks so much for joining me on this little adventure. Reviewers, thank you so much for making this so much fun :)