Love Language by Luna [One-shot #097 Mystery]
Title: Love Language
Author: Luna
Prompt: Mystery
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Warnings: Mild language.
Word Count: 2,591
Summary: Sesshoumaru meets a strange girl at the university he works at, and though she won't speak to him, a game of post-its ensues that starts the strangest courtship Sesshoumaru had ever been a part of.
This one-shot was inspired by a short film I watched, titled “Love Language: A Short Film About How We Connect” Please check it out, it’s such a lovely short, and very romantic.
http: // www. karmatube. org/ videos. php? id = 2178 (without the spaces)
…
“Love in its truest form has no language or words, it just has a thousand and one actions we all wish we could describe.”
By: Kenneth B. Emery
…
“Professor Sawa?”
Sesshoumaru looked up, his customary scowl on his face, and his glasses sliding down his straight, aristocratic nose. The student cowered for a moment before shakily bringing his hand up with his report. Sesshoumaru stared at the student, his mind filing through the database in his mind trying to place the face. A memory surfaced, and the frown between his brows relaxing for a moment before he looked back down at the paper he was grading.
“Place it on the desk.” He said curtly, slashing corrections across the paper in an angry red. Grading papers always put him in a bad mood; he taught his students all they needed to know, yet they never listened; he found the same mistakes in them week after week.
When the student hesitantly dropped his paper off, Sesshoumaru looked at his retreating back from beneath his lashes for a moment. “Souta.”
The student froze, then turned to face Sesshoumaru with a respectful bow. “Yes, Professor Sawa?”
Sesshoumaru studied him with narrowed eyes, his scowl not softening in the slightest. Souta had continued to come to class despite obviously suffering from a fever. Sesshoumaru was never lenient on his students, yet Souta seemed to be the only student to consistently improve. Sesshoumaru had stopped his lesson to send Souta to the nurse’s office, and when he failed to show up at school the next day, Sesshoumaru broke his rule of leniency and sent an email, telling Souta to turn in his report as soon as his health improved. He only missed the deadline by two days, and since Sesshoumaru had over two hundred students at the university, it wouldn’t have made much difference progress wise for Sesshoumaru to accept one late.
After a moment, he set aside the paper he finished grading and reached for another one. “Do not get sick again. I do not want to fail my best student because he didn’t take care of himself. If I am not mistaken, you are here on a sports scholarship for soccer, correct?” Without waiting for an answer, Sesshoumaru continued. “Take better care of yourself in the future, understand?”
Souta perked up, and beamed at Sesshoumaru before giving an enthusiastic bow. “Yes, Professor! Thank you very much!”
Shaking his head, Sesshoumaru returned to grading the papers. He had another class in an hour, and he wanted to make a small dent in his stack of papers. He needed to hire a student aid, but there was never a candidate that satisfied his academic criteria. He never felt comfortable having a student grade another student’s paper.
By five o’clock that evening, Sesshoumaru was shrugging on his long over coat, then looped his red scarf around his neck and grabbed his suit case. His hair, cropped short in the back with his bangs hanging with artless grace across his arrogant brow, gleamed silver in the dull florescent lights. Students avoided him in the hall; eyes averted, distance no less than four feet away from him at all times, as if there was some invisible force field around him that all students unconsciously avoided.
He didn’t care that he wasn’t liked. He held high standards for his students, and if some didn’t appreciate the burden of them, they could either transfer or flunk out of his class. He also welcomed questions, and he’d stay behind in class if any of his students requested it, but so far only Souta seemed to overcome whatever fear the students felt for him and ask him about things he didn’t understand.
Still considering Souta, he thought back to his paper. It was about the deaf community; about reaching out and advocating for those who didn’t have a voice to help represent them. It was a good paper; unfortunately it was supposed to be a rhetorical analysis of a current event, not an emotional outreach. He’d have to mark him down for that one, unfortunately. Idly, as he left his department and walked out to the courtyard to enjoy his late lunch, he wondered why Souta felt so passionate about the deaf community.
He glanced at the girl sitting on his favorite bench, but ignored her for the time being as he sat at the opposite end and started pulling out his bento box his house keeper made for him. He waited for her to leave; most students left immediately after he made his presence known. He was an asshole, but he didn’t know why his cold countenance scared students away. His sister-in-law Rin told him it was because when he was stressed he tended to look very intense and scary, and when he wasn’t stressed he just looked like an asshole - a cold asshole, he corrected himself, frowning. She was developing too many bad mannerisms after marrying his younger brother, Inuyasha.
He glanced at the girl again, wondering about why she was still there, and stared for a minute. She wore a pale blue sun dress, her legs crossed and sandaled feet tapping to an unknown rhythm. The sun was slanting through the trees, and it made her raven hair shine beautifully, and it gave her porcelain skin a soft, golden glow. She was very pretty, he thought, almost beautiful. She had a pair of black headphones in, and she seemed completely engrossed in both the music she was listening too - hard rock, if the erratic beat of her foot was any indication - and the crossword puzzle that was resting on her lap.
“What on earth are you listening to?” He asked finally, when staring at her didn’t seem to get her attention.
She continued tapping her foot to the beat of the music she was listening to, and he scowled at being ignored. “What. Are. You. Listening. To?”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, flushing slightly from his blatant stare. She tapped her headphones, indicating that she couldn’t hear him over the music, then looked back down at her puzzle, her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration.
Scowling even more fiercely, he looked at the spot that her pencil rested against, then at the clue to the answer. He watched as she wrote in an answer, considered it, then erased it to start again. After a few more tries from her, he reached over, his half eaten lunch forgotten, and grabbed the pencil from her hand and wrote it in himself, his letters slashing over the page in his usual abrupt style.
She stared at the answer for a moment, then at him, before a slow smile spread across her pretty face. Then she laughed and stood up, winking at him before moving away. He stared at the odd girls’ retreating back, and then scowled down at his remaining bento. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, then ate his lunch with a scowl.
He didn’t know why he was back the next day. Only that she irritated him and for some reason that made him remember her, and curiosity made him want to see if she’d show up again. She was a mystery… of course, if she ended up being one of his students, it would be one mystery that he’d have to stop exploring. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted to see her again, but… He glanced at the watch, realized it was three and he’d be more productive in his office rather than writing out his lesson plan for the next week outside, but reasoned he was already at his bench and he might as well wait - no, not wait, do his work - outside since he was already here.
An hour slipped by, and Sesshoumaru started to feel like a fool, and then another slipped by without him noticing. He was so engrossed in his work, he actually jolted when a slim hand crept across his notes, and left behind a little sticky note.
“What are you working on?”
Sesshoumaru stared at it blankly, then over to the girl he had been foolishly waiting on for who knows how long, and for God knows what. He noticed she still wore her headphones, and though it irked him, he decided to go along with her game, and he pulled out his own yellow sticky pad so he wouldn’t have to write on her gaudy pink one.
“Lesson plans. What are you listening to?”
She smiled down at his note, then wrote back on her own pink pad. “It’s a secret. What’s your name? I’m Kagome.”
Sesshoumaru scrawled back, his irritation floating away unnoticed. “Sesshoumaru. Professor Sawa Sesshoumaru.”
He waited a beat, then wrote another one quickly. “Are you a student here?” It was possible. She seemed young and was obviously bright. He should know; as a teacher, he could tell the smart ones from the dumb ones. When Kagome smiled at him, Sesshoumaru wondered why; he wasn’t exactly someone people smiled at often.
“No. I graduated from a university in Toshima.”
Sesshoumaru raised his brows, surprised. Sesshoumaru worked at Tokyo University, despite attending the prestigious Gakushuin University, and was considered a genius. The only universities he knew of in Toshima were fairly prestigious in their own right. Tokyo U bordered Toshima, so it wasn’t exactly a long commute from there to here, but he wondered why she was here if she was not a student.
“You live there?”
“No,” she wrote. “I live in this area with my younger brother. We sort of live together until he can find his own place, but he’s been sick lately.”
“Are you waiting for him then?” He asked, thinking it reasonable, if not a little mother-hen like, for her to want to come to her little brothers school and wait for him.
Kagome flushed slightly, and she hesitated writing back for a moment. “I was yesterday. Not so much today.”
He realized then that she meant him. He almost flushed, realizing that he was probably ten years older than her, and that he was actually flirting. Flirting… no, it probably didn’t seem like flirting to her. Younger people flirted more openly, if his students were anything to go by. Innuendos were woven into every day conversation, making him, a grown man, wonder what era it was that he grew up in that made him feel so old fashioned around them.
Hey there… wanna take a look at my… gym? I’m always open.
He cringed, then realized she was waiting for a reply. “I’m here every day. Most students avoid me, so having a visitor is a nice change of pace.” Sesshoumaru cringed again, wondering if he could sound any more lame.
She didn’t seem to mind; she smiled again, but before she could write anything down, a light started flashing on her wristwatch, and she looked down at it with a frown. She wrote quickly, “I’ve got to go. But I’ll be back tomorrow, Sesshoumaru.”
“Wait,” he wrote. “What’s your number?”
She looked a little sad at that. “I don’t have one. I’ll be back tomorrow though!”
Sesshoumaru frowned at Kagome’s back. She didn’t have a cell phone? Everyone had one nowadays - even he had a cell phone. Was she blowing him off? He wouldn’t blame her. He was a thirty-two year old asshole, and she seemed to be a bright, lovely young woman. He felt foolish for playing the post-it game, and gathered his belongings quickly, telling himself that he wouldn’t come back the next day.
But he had. And she had. And the next, and the next, and the next…
“I wish I could hear you laugh,” she wrote one day, her sigh wistful.
“I don’t laugh,” he wrote back, his expression sardonic. “Feel lucky I’ve at least smiled.”
“You’ve smiled at me? And I missed it? How’d that happen?” She playfully replied.
Sesshoumaru was relaxed with her, which was a miracle in and of itself. It was odd how such a playful game of post-it’s could make himself feel closer to who was once a complete stranger. He looked at her, simply looked. She was such a pretty young woman, he thought, not for the first time. He looked at her head phones, wondering what kind of music she couldn’t live without, and wrote down his original question.
“What are you listening to?”
Again, that fleeting look of sadness streaked across her face, and she wrote back, “Would you like to hear it?”
“Of course I would,” he said out loud, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.
She smiled at him, saying nothing as she pulled out her ear pieces and handed them over. Sesshoumaru took them gingerly, not liking the idea of putting anything in his ears, before he held them just outside of his ear canal, so he’d still be able to hear without shoving them inside. When he heard nothing, he frowned, pushing them in properly, but he still couldn’t hear anything.
“There’s something wrong with them. I can’t hear anything.” He looked over at her, stopping abruptly when she started to bring her right hand up to her forehead, her fingers in the shape of an “ok” sign, where the thumb and index finger meet, and twisted it slightly, her expression regretful, before she brought her hand away from her forehead, palm flat and fingers together. It was Japanese Sign Language, he realized, for I’m sorry.
She pointed to herself, then spelt out with her fingers, “D-E-A-F.”
Deaf. I’m deaf. Sesshoumaru couldn’t believe he never realized it.
He remembered the first day he sat down next to her, when she seemed completely oblivious to his presence, and her foot tapping out a rhythm that only she knew. Their post-it game, which he thought odd, but hadn’t said anything. He looked at her face, at her anxious expression, and reached for his pen and post-it.
“Want to go get some coffee?”
“You don’t… mind?” Her expression was still hesitant, as if Kagome was used to having people treat her differently just because she was deaf.
Sesshoumaru didn’t see things that way. He had three students that were deaf and they communicated through an interpreter, and he fully expected them to be just as capable as a hearing person. Her being deaf didn’t make her less attractive in his eyes. “As long as you can promise you’re not a student of mine, I don’t see why I would. However…”
Clumsily, he signed back to her. “I think I need to start learning sign language.”
He must have done something wrong, because for a moment she looked completely confused, before a bright grin spread across her face, and she quickly wrote something down and slapped it his notebook that was now filled with her post-its, before grabbing his hand, giving him only two seconds to read her note before he had to grab his binder so his papers wouldn’t flow away.
“I have no idea what you just signed but… coffee sounds great.”
Ignoring the wide-eyed stare of students, and wondering at the open mouthed shock of Souta as he passed him in the hall, Sesshoumaru let himself get dragged outside, on what he considered to be the start of a very interesting courtship. Because, despite the obvious language barrier, Sesshoumaru… didn’t care. He appreciated all forms of intellect, and the study of languages was one of them. Signing was one he could officially say he didn’t know, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to learn.
Her being deaf didn’t make a single bit of difference, and him not knowing her language didn’t either.
After all… Love had no language.
Author: Luna
Prompt: Mystery
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Warnings: Mild language.
Word Count: 2,591
Summary: Sesshoumaru meets a strange girl at the university he works at, and though she won't speak to him, a game of post-its ensues that starts the strangest courtship Sesshoumaru had ever been a part of.
This one-shot was inspired by a short film I watched, titled “Love Language: A Short Film About How We Connect” Please check it out, it’s such a lovely short, and very romantic.
http: // www. karmatube. org/ videos. php? id = 2178 (without the spaces)
…
“Love in its truest form has no language or words, it just has a thousand and one actions we all wish we could describe.”
By: Kenneth B. Emery
…
“Professor Sawa?”
Sesshoumaru looked up, his customary scowl on his face, and his glasses sliding down his straight, aristocratic nose. The student cowered for a moment before shakily bringing his hand up with his report. Sesshoumaru stared at the student, his mind filing through the database in his mind trying to place the face. A memory surfaced, and the frown between his brows relaxing for a moment before he looked back down at the paper he was grading.
“Place it on the desk.” He said curtly, slashing corrections across the paper in an angry red. Grading papers always put him in a bad mood; he taught his students all they needed to know, yet they never listened; he found the same mistakes in them week after week.
When the student hesitantly dropped his paper off, Sesshoumaru looked at his retreating back from beneath his lashes for a moment. “Souta.”
The student froze, then turned to face Sesshoumaru with a respectful bow. “Yes, Professor Sawa?”
Sesshoumaru studied him with narrowed eyes, his scowl not softening in the slightest. Souta had continued to come to class despite obviously suffering from a fever. Sesshoumaru was never lenient on his students, yet Souta seemed to be the only student to consistently improve. Sesshoumaru had stopped his lesson to send Souta to the nurse’s office, and when he failed to show up at school the next day, Sesshoumaru broke his rule of leniency and sent an email, telling Souta to turn in his report as soon as his health improved. He only missed the deadline by two days, and since Sesshoumaru had over two hundred students at the university, it wouldn’t have made much difference progress wise for Sesshoumaru to accept one late.
After a moment, he set aside the paper he finished grading and reached for another one. “Do not get sick again. I do not want to fail my best student because he didn’t take care of himself. If I am not mistaken, you are here on a sports scholarship for soccer, correct?” Without waiting for an answer, Sesshoumaru continued. “Take better care of yourself in the future, understand?”
Souta perked up, and beamed at Sesshoumaru before giving an enthusiastic bow. “Yes, Professor! Thank you very much!”
Shaking his head, Sesshoumaru returned to grading the papers. He had another class in an hour, and he wanted to make a small dent in his stack of papers. He needed to hire a student aid, but there was never a candidate that satisfied his academic criteria. He never felt comfortable having a student grade another student’s paper.
By five o’clock that evening, Sesshoumaru was shrugging on his long over coat, then looped his red scarf around his neck and grabbed his suit case. His hair, cropped short in the back with his bangs hanging with artless grace across his arrogant brow, gleamed silver in the dull florescent lights. Students avoided him in the hall; eyes averted, distance no less than four feet away from him at all times, as if there was some invisible force field around him that all students unconsciously avoided.
He didn’t care that he wasn’t liked. He held high standards for his students, and if some didn’t appreciate the burden of them, they could either transfer or flunk out of his class. He also welcomed questions, and he’d stay behind in class if any of his students requested it, but so far only Souta seemed to overcome whatever fear the students felt for him and ask him about things he didn’t understand.
Still considering Souta, he thought back to his paper. It was about the deaf community; about reaching out and advocating for those who didn’t have a voice to help represent them. It was a good paper; unfortunately it was supposed to be a rhetorical analysis of a current event, not an emotional outreach. He’d have to mark him down for that one, unfortunately. Idly, as he left his department and walked out to the courtyard to enjoy his late lunch, he wondered why Souta felt so passionate about the deaf community.
He glanced at the girl sitting on his favorite bench, but ignored her for the time being as he sat at the opposite end and started pulling out his bento box his house keeper made for him. He waited for her to leave; most students left immediately after he made his presence known. He was an asshole, but he didn’t know why his cold countenance scared students away. His sister-in-law Rin told him it was because when he was stressed he tended to look very intense and scary, and when he wasn’t stressed he just looked like an asshole - a cold asshole, he corrected himself, frowning. She was developing too many bad mannerisms after marrying his younger brother, Inuyasha.
He glanced at the girl again, wondering about why she was still there, and stared for a minute. She wore a pale blue sun dress, her legs crossed and sandaled feet tapping to an unknown rhythm. The sun was slanting through the trees, and it made her raven hair shine beautifully, and it gave her porcelain skin a soft, golden glow. She was very pretty, he thought, almost beautiful. She had a pair of black headphones in, and she seemed completely engrossed in both the music she was listening too - hard rock, if the erratic beat of her foot was any indication - and the crossword puzzle that was resting on her lap.
“What on earth are you listening to?” He asked finally, when staring at her didn’t seem to get her attention.
She continued tapping her foot to the beat of the music she was listening to, and he scowled at being ignored. “What. Are. You. Listening. To?”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, flushing slightly from his blatant stare. She tapped her headphones, indicating that she couldn’t hear him over the music, then looked back down at her puzzle, her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration.
Scowling even more fiercely, he looked at the spot that her pencil rested against, then at the clue to the answer. He watched as she wrote in an answer, considered it, then erased it to start again. After a few more tries from her, he reached over, his half eaten lunch forgotten, and grabbed the pencil from her hand and wrote it in himself, his letters slashing over the page in his usual abrupt style.
She stared at the answer for a moment, then at him, before a slow smile spread across her pretty face. Then she laughed and stood up, winking at him before moving away. He stared at the odd girls’ retreating back, and then scowled down at his remaining bento. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, then ate his lunch with a scowl.
He didn’t know why he was back the next day. Only that she irritated him and for some reason that made him remember her, and curiosity made him want to see if she’d show up again. She was a mystery… of course, if she ended up being one of his students, it would be one mystery that he’d have to stop exploring. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted to see her again, but… He glanced at the watch, realized it was three and he’d be more productive in his office rather than writing out his lesson plan for the next week outside, but reasoned he was already at his bench and he might as well wait - no, not wait, do his work - outside since he was already here.
An hour slipped by, and Sesshoumaru started to feel like a fool, and then another slipped by without him noticing. He was so engrossed in his work, he actually jolted when a slim hand crept across his notes, and left behind a little sticky note.
“What are you working on?”
Sesshoumaru stared at it blankly, then over to the girl he had been foolishly waiting on for who knows how long, and for God knows what. He noticed she still wore her headphones, and though it irked him, he decided to go along with her game, and he pulled out his own yellow sticky pad so he wouldn’t have to write on her gaudy pink one.
“Lesson plans. What are you listening to?”
She smiled down at his note, then wrote back on her own pink pad. “It’s a secret. What’s your name? I’m Kagome.”
Sesshoumaru scrawled back, his irritation floating away unnoticed. “Sesshoumaru. Professor Sawa Sesshoumaru.”
He waited a beat, then wrote another one quickly. “Are you a student here?” It was possible. She seemed young and was obviously bright. He should know; as a teacher, he could tell the smart ones from the dumb ones. When Kagome smiled at him, Sesshoumaru wondered why; he wasn’t exactly someone people smiled at often.
“No. I graduated from a university in Toshima.”
Sesshoumaru raised his brows, surprised. Sesshoumaru worked at Tokyo University, despite attending the prestigious Gakushuin University, and was considered a genius. The only universities he knew of in Toshima were fairly prestigious in their own right. Tokyo U bordered Toshima, so it wasn’t exactly a long commute from there to here, but he wondered why she was here if she was not a student.
“You live there?”
“No,” she wrote. “I live in this area with my younger brother. We sort of live together until he can find his own place, but he’s been sick lately.”
“Are you waiting for him then?” He asked, thinking it reasonable, if not a little mother-hen like, for her to want to come to her little brothers school and wait for him.
Kagome flushed slightly, and she hesitated writing back for a moment. “I was yesterday. Not so much today.”
He realized then that she meant him. He almost flushed, realizing that he was probably ten years older than her, and that he was actually flirting. Flirting… no, it probably didn’t seem like flirting to her. Younger people flirted more openly, if his students were anything to go by. Innuendos were woven into every day conversation, making him, a grown man, wonder what era it was that he grew up in that made him feel so old fashioned around them.
Hey there… wanna take a look at my… gym? I’m always open.
He cringed, then realized she was waiting for a reply. “I’m here every day. Most students avoid me, so having a visitor is a nice change of pace.” Sesshoumaru cringed again, wondering if he could sound any more lame.
She didn’t seem to mind; she smiled again, but before she could write anything down, a light started flashing on her wristwatch, and she looked down at it with a frown. She wrote quickly, “I’ve got to go. But I’ll be back tomorrow, Sesshoumaru.”
“Wait,” he wrote. “What’s your number?”
She looked a little sad at that. “I don’t have one. I’ll be back tomorrow though!”
Sesshoumaru frowned at Kagome’s back. She didn’t have a cell phone? Everyone had one nowadays - even he had a cell phone. Was she blowing him off? He wouldn’t blame her. He was a thirty-two year old asshole, and she seemed to be a bright, lovely young woman. He felt foolish for playing the post-it game, and gathered his belongings quickly, telling himself that he wouldn’t come back the next day.
But he had. And she had. And the next, and the next, and the next…
“I wish I could hear you laugh,” she wrote one day, her sigh wistful.
“I don’t laugh,” he wrote back, his expression sardonic. “Feel lucky I’ve at least smiled.”
“You’ve smiled at me? And I missed it? How’d that happen?” She playfully replied.
Sesshoumaru was relaxed with her, which was a miracle in and of itself. It was odd how such a playful game of post-it’s could make himself feel closer to who was once a complete stranger. He looked at her, simply looked. She was such a pretty young woman, he thought, not for the first time. He looked at her head phones, wondering what kind of music she couldn’t live without, and wrote down his original question.
“What are you listening to?”
Again, that fleeting look of sadness streaked across her face, and she wrote back, “Would you like to hear it?”
“Of course I would,” he said out loud, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.
She smiled at him, saying nothing as she pulled out her ear pieces and handed them over. Sesshoumaru took them gingerly, not liking the idea of putting anything in his ears, before he held them just outside of his ear canal, so he’d still be able to hear without shoving them inside. When he heard nothing, he frowned, pushing them in properly, but he still couldn’t hear anything.
“There’s something wrong with them. I can’t hear anything.” He looked over at her, stopping abruptly when she started to bring her right hand up to her forehead, her fingers in the shape of an “ok” sign, where the thumb and index finger meet, and twisted it slightly, her expression regretful, before she brought her hand away from her forehead, palm flat and fingers together. It was Japanese Sign Language, he realized, for I’m sorry.
She pointed to herself, then spelt out with her fingers, “D-E-A-F.”
Deaf. I’m deaf. Sesshoumaru couldn’t believe he never realized it.
He remembered the first day he sat down next to her, when she seemed completely oblivious to his presence, and her foot tapping out a rhythm that only she knew. Their post-it game, which he thought odd, but hadn’t said anything. He looked at her face, at her anxious expression, and reached for his pen and post-it.
“Want to go get some coffee?”
“You don’t… mind?” Her expression was still hesitant, as if Kagome was used to having people treat her differently just because she was deaf.
Sesshoumaru didn’t see things that way. He had three students that were deaf and they communicated through an interpreter, and he fully expected them to be just as capable as a hearing person. Her being deaf didn’t make her less attractive in his eyes. “As long as you can promise you’re not a student of mine, I don’t see why I would. However…”
Clumsily, he signed back to her. “I think I need to start learning sign language.”
He must have done something wrong, because for a moment she looked completely confused, before a bright grin spread across her face, and she quickly wrote something down and slapped it his notebook that was now filled with her post-its, before grabbing his hand, giving him only two seconds to read her note before he had to grab his binder so his papers wouldn’t flow away.
“I have no idea what you just signed but… coffee sounds great.”
Ignoring the wide-eyed stare of students, and wondering at the open mouthed shock of Souta as he passed him in the hall, Sesshoumaru let himself get dragged outside, on what he considered to be the start of a very interesting courtship. Because, despite the obvious language barrier, Sesshoumaru… didn’t care. He appreciated all forms of intellect, and the study of languages was one of them. Signing was one he could officially say he didn’t know, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to learn.
Her being deaf didn’t make a single bit of difference, and him not knowing her language didn’t either.
After all… Love had no language.