11 is my wife.

Winter stretched long and cold.

After several days of continuous snowfall, even the strongest half-demons preferred to stay indoors, huddled at home, waiting for the bitter cold to pass.

The day Sesshōmaru awoke was an ordinary one.

The sun was dipping westward, casting a soft orange glow into the dim room. Reclining upon his fluffy tail, the man opened his eyes, his expression indifferent.

A grass blind was rolled up over the window, and a barrier kept the cold wind at bay.

Outside, the snow had not melted; a vast expanse of white stretched beneath a sky stained crimson by the setting sun.

Sesshōmaru remained still after awakening, still leaning against his tail, his body bathed in the sunset’s splendid hues, though his demonic energy flowed with slight obstruction.

He pressed a hand to his temple, discomforted by the unfamiliar sensation of his power; his head throbbed in spasms.

Where am I? The thought flickered through his mind.

The atmosphere inside the room relaxed him; familiar demonic energy, a familiar scent—but he struggled to recall whose it was.

Other than him, who else could it be?

His gaze swept indifferently around the room. The dwelling was clearly not the palace he knew. His silver-white hair spilled over the tail he rested on, his expression detached.

Hearing movement, he slowly turned his eyes toward the door.

Sunlight streamed through the worn wooden doorway, casting elongated shadows, twisting like a slender serpent.

Flower Emi, just stepping inside, froze upon meeting Sesshōmaru’s awakened gaze.

Awake?

Sesshōmaru is awake?

Should she greet him? Say, “Hi?”

The handsome man regarded her quietly, even in repose his inherent arrogance and aloofness radiated from his very bones.

It was the aura of a superior being.

The thought of greeting him vanished instantly.

His beautiful, crystal-like golden-red eyes were calm and unreadable.

Something was off.

Sesshōmaru looked strange.

He did not speak nor move, only watching her with a suspicious look. Emi felt inexplicably guilty.

Especially when she noticed the few delicate flowers resting beside him, her guilt deepened.

A subtle thought flashed through Emi’s mind: “The dog is more charming than the flowers.”

Quickly reviewing her recent actions, she realized she’d been overly obedient lately, unlikely to have provoked Sesshōmaru.

The atmosphere grew tense.

Neither dared to speak first.

Instead, the snake tail shyly crept forward, coiling around Sesshōmaru’s tail used as a backrest, a familiar entanglement. The fluffy tail wiggled in protest but was firmly held down, the snake tail brazenly asserting itself—a bully forcing virtue aside.

Emi shuddered, quickly glancing at Sesshōmaru.

His tall, slender figure remained motionless, gaze lowered to his own tail.

Though his face was radiant, Emi broke out in a cold sweat.

Quietly tugging her uncooperative tail, seeing he bore no anger, she cautiously moved further inside, carefully asking, “Sesshōmaru, are you alright?”

At her question, Sesshōmaru hesitated, his voice deep and unfathomable as he gave a slight nod.

Emi shivered under his gaze and tried to steady herself. “...Is something wrong?”

His eyes remained fixed intently on her, bewildered.

She carried his scent everywhere.

Not just scent— their demonic energies mingled with no resistance, yet he could not recall who she was; his memories were fragmented.

Vaguely, an image of himself entwined by a snake flashed through his mind.

On a towering ancient tree.

A snake and a white dog, tangled together.

Flower Emi?

The name suddenly appeared in his mind, and his eyes seemed to clear somewhat.

Emi felt a chill under his stare. To be honest, she was a little afraid to meet Sesshōmaru’s gaze—after all, he was a dog who rarely spoke, who walked only straight paths, despised the weak, and pursued a singular path of dominance.

Far more difficult than Inuyasha’s simple, sweet nature.

Inuyasha had endured fifty years sealed away by a human woman and still ended up falling in love with her reincarnation.

With Sesshōmaru? Reconciliation was out of the question; he would simply slaughter the human.

Thinking this, Emi found Sesshōmaru’s gaze even stranger, chilling in its appraisal.

“Sesshōmaru?” she called uncertainly again.

Snapping back to reality, he glanced at the snake tail draped over his shoulder and answered softly, “Hmm.”

A voice echoed in his mind.

“Your scent is so sweet, I cannot control myself.”

His pupils contracted. Though inwardly disturbed, he maintained the poised, noble demeanor of a lord.

So—

Sesshōmaru slowly looked toward her.

His gaze swept the snake tail entwined with his own, as if pondering something. After a moment, he lifted his head leisurely, eyes fixed on Emi standing at the doorway, as if to verify something. His thin lips parted, voice cold: “Come here.”

Huh?

Huh?!

Unexpectedly called by Sesshōmaru, Emi’s mind raced through possibilities, finally settling on one phrase: settling scores in autumn.

Then she reconsidered. She had done nothing wrong and had even saved Sesshōmaru; with his personality, he would not repay kindness with cruelty.

Besides, she was no Naraku—she had not toyed with him.

Summoning courage, Emi stepped forward.

His long, pale hand rose, naturally circling her waist with a slight pressure.

Caught off guard, she was pulled into his arms. Unluckily for her, his hand rested on the sensitive area where scales met skin at her waist and abdomen. Her body weakened uncontrollably, collapsing into his embrace.

Emi: ???

As they drew close, their demonic energies melded seamlessly. Sesshōmaru confirmed his suspicions.

A seductive voice whispered by her ear: “Thank you for your trouble—”

That enchanting voice, that magnetic murmur, made Emi’s spine weaken utterly; she fell fully into his arms, the plum blossom fragrance between her nostrils unmistakably his, her mind filled with: Damn! Damn! Damn! Could it be Sesshōmaru is offering himself!?

You wouldn’t believe it, but she was actually a little moved.

Perhaps the room’s warmth was too great, or Sesshōmaru’s embrace too intoxicating. In any case, her waist felt as soft as if it could be tied in a bow.

Heat surged through her body, rushing from her neck upward; Emi guessed her entire face was aflame.

“N-no, um—w-we—” Not that close, and not familiar enough to be offering herself. Emi wanted to say that, but now it was Sesshōmaru holding her!

His sculpted fingers stroked the ends of her hair, fingertips threading through her long, silky blue-white strands that fell like satin to her waist.

Feeling the familiar scent, Sesshōmaru’s irritation over his lost memories eased somewhat.

“Hm?” he responded lightly, naturally holding her close and curling his fluffy tail around her waist.

It was a possessive embrace.

What might be a simple gesture of goodwill was clearly overstepping boundaries. This intimacy unnerved Emi; she nearly suspected Sesshōmaru was either out of his mind or an imposter.

A chill ran down her back. Despite her desire for beauty, Emi dared not linger in his arms, quickly straightening.

She looked at Sesshōmaru in alarm. The demonic energy was definitely his, unmistakably his scent.

But...

This simply did not feel like Sesshōmaru!

Had he been possessed?

Seeing her struggle, Sesshōmaru made no move to stop her, maintaining a lazy, relaxed demeanor. His cold golden-red eyes rested patiently on her.

But to Emi, it felt like the calm before a storm.

This was bad—definitely the tail’s fault.

Emi glared fiercely at her disobedient tail. Unfortunately, the beauty-obsessed snake tail had already wormed its way inside, even resting its tip on Sesshōmaru’s shoulder, flaunting itself.

Emi’s vision darkened repeatedly.

Could she even keep this snake life?

Hesitant, she asked, “Sesshōmaru... what do you think of me...?”

Could it be Sesshōmaru secretly liked her?

No, she didn’t have that much face.

Maybe Sesshōmaru wanted to toy with her? Oh, what a jerk!

“I-I—” Emi’s expression twisted; the tail coiled lightly around her waist, brushing the exposed skin between scales, tickling and tingling like feathers, sending shivers through her.

Pleasant yet uncomfortable, a teasing touch that left her aching for more.

Wait—

Now was not the time for fantasies. Emi snapped back, placing her hands on Sesshōmaru’s shoulders, looking down at him seriously: “What do you take me for?!”

“Wife.”

When Sesshōmaru said those two words without changing expression,

Emi was stunned.

Was Sesshōmaru really that shameless? Had he lost himself?

“...” No, did he really intend to toy with her?

After speaking, he rubbed his temple slowly, his eyes half-lidded as he added, “I don’t quite remember.”

Just moments ago, Emi had been shocked by the idea of Sesshōmaru secretly liking her. Now hearing this, her mouth formed an ‘O’ shape as she blurted, “...Amnesia?”

Sesshōmaru glanced at her coolly and replied in a measured tone, “I remember you.”

Those three words stopped Emi’s retort dead in her throat, leaving her expression speechless. Well, thanks for that.

All she could think was: Good grief, it’s truly you.

Speechless and wanting to say more, her eyes stabbed at the overly relaxed demon. Emi was certain Sesshōmaru’s mind was troubled. She opened her mouth, then hesitated.

Others lose memory and lose wives; you, on the other hand, lose memory and end up with a wife.

Only you, Sesshōmaru.

Truly one of a kind.