Chapter 1: A Monk's Tale

Miroku sighed as he climbed the worn stone steps that led up the mountain. It was snowing again, and he shivered slightly, wishing he had been allowed to bring more adequate footwear along. But the head monk of the Zenrin-ji monastery, the one who had sent him was firm: his journey into the far northern mountains of Japan was considered part of his Buddhist training, so he would have to make the trip wearing his normal robes and sandals.

The young monk wondered why he was being sent. There were older, more experienced monks at the monastery, but all he had been told that he had been chosen to guard something of great importance. Sighing again, he brushed some of the snow out of his hair and continued moving slowly upwards. It had taken Miroku nearly three months to make his way from the central island of Honshu to the smaller northern island of Hokkaido where the secret monastery was located. He had managed to hitch some rides on farmer's carts and wagons, but as he moved further north, the young monk had to increasingly travel by foot. He had found the boat ride between the two islands interesting, but quiet. Since then, Miroku had been asking the few people he came across if they knew where the monastery was, and it was only by chance that he had run into a monk that was heading south who kindly directed him where to go.

Realizing that the light flurries had stopped, Miroku paused and brushed off his purple Buddhist robes, unhappy that they now were nearly soaked with melted snow, making him even colder. Dark blue eyes closing, he gripped his Shakujo staff tighter, telling himself he would keep walking until he reached a level spot, then continue on in the morning. Shaking himself slightly, the monk kept walking, occasionally glancing to the left to admire the view of the valleys and smaller hills he had passed on his way through.

"I need to find the monastery soon…I'm nearly out of food." he muttered to himself, feeling the way the light bundle on his back bounced with every step. It had been much heavier at the start of his journey, and while he was careful to never eat too much, his meals had been meagre the last few weeks. At the moment, his stomach rumbled as if to remind him of that fact, and Miroku chuckled weakly. Reaching one of the switchbacks that allowed the path to keep moving upwards while remaining on the same side of the mountain, he looked up to check his progress and smiled. Not to far above him, the steps ended at the mouth of a cave, which he knew would lead to his destination.

After another fifteen minutes of solid walking, Miroku reached the entrance to the cave and stopped. He could feel a strong spiritual barrier right in front of him, obviously set up to keep demons away. Hesitating for a moment, he reached out and waved his staff inside the cave mouth to see if he could go in. Satisfied that he would not be thrown back down the mountainside by the barrier, the monk stepped into the cool darkness of the cave.

Aside from the distant drip of water, everything was silent. He could see now that the cave was actually a tunnel, so he started to walk down it, the jingling of the rings on his staff breaking the deep silence. Although the tunnel was pitch black, the path was clear and level, and it wasn't long before he was standing at the other end, staring down at the hidden monastery.

The monastery was located in a shallow valley between three mountains, with a small river running crosswise through it. A smooth path lead down to the entrance of the holy grounds, which was marked by two life-size statues of a sitting Buddha on either side of the path. A row of buildings flanking both sides of the path were next, and Miroku assumed that they were probably quarters and meditation rooms for the monks living there. A stone arched bridge crossed the river, and a flight of steps led to the temple. The temple itself was built like the other buildings, but even from across the valley Miroku could see the numerous tags and charms pasted or hung along the outside walls.

Miroku smiled and headed down the twisting pathway that led to the temple. Halfway down, he saw a group of people quickly gathering to meet him, and picked up his pace. Reaching the valley floor, the young monk stopped a few feet away from the man at the head of the group.

"Welcome, Miroku-san." the elderly monk said, and the rest of the monks murmured the greeting after him. After a pause, he continued. "I am Taro, the head monk in charge of this monastery and the artefact it guards. Your journey was long, so please come and get refreshed. I will tell you everything you must know afterwards." Ending with a short bow, Taro gestured for Miroku to follow him.

"Many thanks, Taro-sama. I am honoured to be here." Miroku replied with a deep bow to the older monk, and fell into step just behind him. He smiled and nodded to the other monks as they moved through the small group and walked towards one of the buildings sitting beside the path.

- - -

After a refreshing bath and a hearty meal, Miroku and Taro sat across from each other on a tatami mat, the younger monk waiting patiently for further information. Blue eyes fixed on the head monk's face, Miroku shifted slightly, wondering what the man had to tell him. A few minutes of silence passed, then Taro cleared his throat and began to speak.

"I know that you have little experience outside the monastery in Zenrin-ji, but you seem to possess strong spiritual powers and have a level head. Both traits will be needed for your duty here. The artefact that I mentioned earlier is a statue of a dog half-demon, and it is located in the temple. I cannot tell you the story behind it, since I was sworn to never reveal it when I took over the position of head monk here. I can tell you this much: the statue is of great importance and must be kept a secret at all costs. Also, you are never to touch the statue, since your spiritual power will cause it to shatter and something terrible will happen if it does break. Miroku-san, do you understand?"

Miroku was silent for a moment, thinking over what he had just been said. Although he was burning to learn the story behind the statue, he knew better than to ask. Nodding, he responded, "Of course, Taro-sama, I understand completely. I will do my duty to protect the statue even if it kills me." The elder monk sighed and nodded. "Very good. Now, go relieve Nori-san." Standing up, Miroku bowed and left.

- - -

Miroku sat in front of the statue, his back facing the door. It had been several weeks since he had arrived at the hidden monastery, and he was still fascinated by the stone half-demon. The male figure was standing upright, but was twisted around like something from behind had startled him. His dog ears were flattened back against his head, and his mouth was open as if he had been in the middle of saying something. The statue's left arm was raised slightly, clawed hand balled into a fist. He wore old-style clothing; an outer hitoe with an inner kosode peeking out at the sleeves and collar, an obi and a pair of rather loose hakama completed the outfit, and the figure had bare feet. Miroku had assumed from the style of the clothing that the artist either had an interest in historical dress or that the statue itself was several hundred years old.

Chin resting on his fist, the monk examined the statue yet again. It stood in the centre of the temple, surrounded by four stone pillars that had Buddhist prayers carved into them. Mounted on a pedestal, it was turned slightly so that the shocked face was looking at the wall instead of the door. The workmanship was excellent, and he wondered absently who had carved it. Miroku had noticed that small cracks were appearing in the stone around the figure's ankles, but dismissed them due to the age of the stone. Still, he couldn't see why the statue was important, and he could sense nothing spiritual or demonic from the stone. Frowning, he sighed in frustration. No matter how many times he asked Taro, the monk refused to tell him anything more about the statue, and none of the other monks knew anything else. The only useful piece of information he had heard was that a spell had been cast on the statue, but even that was just a wild rumour that a half-insane monk had started years ago. So Miroku was left to speculate about the statue's history.

The statue had been carved by a distraught human father after his young dog half-demon son had died. In an effort to keep his memory fresh, the father carved what he believed his son would have grown up to look like, and kept the statue hidden away until he died. Local villagers, possibly the same ones who had caused the young half-demon to die, discovered the statue after the man's death, and fearing that it had evil properties, gave it to a monastery so they could contain the wicked power locked inside the stone.

Shaking his head, Miroku dismissed that story. It didn't explain why the statue was so closely guarded, or why it was hidden away where few people could find it. Glancing at the statue again, the monk tried again.

The statue had originally been of a famous young prince, and had been carved to commemorate his heroic deeds. A priestess had fallen in love with the prince, but he kept refusing her advances, finally marrying a lady of noble birth. Infuriated, the rejected priestess cast a spell on the statue, reconfiguring it to show a man who was constantly looking over his shoulder. The dog references were a personal touch, added by the angry woman in order to show others exactly what she thought of the prince. Ashamed of what had been done to his statue, the young man ordered it to be sent far away and placed somewhere were he could never see it again. And so the statue ended up in a Buddhist monastery, with orders that it be kept under heavy guard in case the spell broke and the priestess' anger was unleashed in the form of a crippling spiritual attack.

Although that story made more sense, it still didn't settle well with Miroku. Staring at the statue, he knew that there had to be a bigger explanation behind it. Whatever it was, the tale must be important if even the head monk was sworn never to tell anyone about it. Rubbing the back of his neck, the young man sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere by just thinking, so he might as well spend his time more wisely. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Meditation would help to clear his mind; maybe then he could figure out the statue's history.

Crack.

Crack…crack…crack…crack…crack…

Crack…crack..crackcrackcrackcrackcrackcrack…

Opening his eyes at the peculiar sound, Miroku stared in surprise. The tiny cracks around the male half-demon's ankles had spread upwards and gotten bigger, ending just below his waist. That's definitely not the result of old stone…the young man thought, his mind flicking through the countless possibilities of why the stone was cracking so quickly. Suddenly remembering his duties, Miroku scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, wrenching it open and bellowing, "TARO-SAMA! Come quickly, something's happening to the statue!"

A few seconds went by, then the elder monk dashed out of a meditation chamber and ran towards the temple, clutching a bunch of Buddhist charms in one hand. Eyes wide, he brushed past Miroku and entered the temple, and the young man heard him gasp a moment later. Alerted by his call, other monks starting appearing in doorways and hurrying down the path towards the temple, eager to see what was happening and if their skills would be needed. Miroku stood aside and allowed them to enter, listening to their gasps and whispers once they saw the statue.

Taro was silent for a minute, then he turned to the gathered monks and spoke, raising his voice so he could be heard clearly by all. "This is a grave turn of events for us. I want the strongest monks here to erect a powerful spiritual barrier around the statue, using the prayer pillars as way to support it. Once the barrier is in place, no one must touch it, no matter what happens. From now on, there will be someone on duty at all times. I will leave it to you to sort out the schedule. If anything happens, find me at once. Is that clear?"

Murmurs of agreement drifted from each of the monks, and most turned and filed out of the temple quietly. Concerned, Miroku stayed behind, watching silently as Taro and four other monks hung strings with Buddhist charms attached between the four stone posts and chanted to set up a strong spiritual barrier. As the invisible wall was erected, the statue glowed dimly, silver light shining from the cracks. But the light faded and vanished once the barrier was in place, and the statue returned to looking completely normal. Seeing that two of the older monks were settling in to start guard duty, Miroku turned and left the temple, needing time alone and space to think.

The young monk walked slowly along the riverbank, watching the sun glint off of the frozen water. It was obvious now that something was trapped inside the statue itself, and was trying to break the seal and be set free. He had sensed something when the light shone out of the cracks, but the sensation had been so faint and fleeting that he couldn't identify it. "But what happened?" Miroku asked aloud, stopping and looking up to the light blue sky. For once, it wasn't snowing, and a light breeze blew down from the grey mountains that towered high above the monastery.

The wind ruffled his dark brown hair, and he absently ran a hand through it, lost in thought. A monk or a priest could have easily sealed something inside a statue, but why was it breaking out now, after all this time? Gazing upwards, he tried to figure out what could be trapped inside a statue, but none of the questions he came up with had answers. Was the statue just a cloak to hide the true form of the thing inside? Or had the person who cast the spell consciously formed the seal to resemble a statue? If so, why choose a dog half-demon? A samurai or an animal would make much or sense. Frowning, Miroku closed his eyes and let the questions leave his mind. Although he was curious, he knew it wasn't his place to ask such things. Taro would protect the monks should anything happen.

- - -

Miroku once more sat in front of the statue, ignoring the slight hum that the barrier made. In front of him were several small scrolls, one of which was unrolled. Printed on them were the teachings of a famous Buddhist monk. Miroku had taken it upon himself to expand his knowledge, and he had already memorized three scrolls which held more of the monk's sayings. Concentrating of his studies, he didn't catch the faint whisper that floated through the room every so often, gradually growing louder.

Kikyou…no!

Miroku looked up with a frown, mildly irritated that he was being interrupted. But upon glancing around, he realized the room was empty. "Must have been the wind." he muttered, hearing it whistle through the cracks around the door. Returning to his studies with a shrug, the young monk scanned the cramped writing, mouthing the words silently to better remember them.

Naraku…

He looked up again, certain that he had heard something. But the temple was still and silent. Blue eyes narrowing in confusion, Miroku glanced around uneasily. Was one of the monks playing a joke on him?

I'll kill you.

Miroku started at the threat and scrambled to his feet, eyes wide. The whisperer was male, but the voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Clutching his staff, he stiffened, ready to lash out just in case someone was out to kill him.

I mean it. I'll avenge her death!

The voice was coming from the statue. Edging forward cautiously, the monk held the tip of his staff in front of him, alert. But nothing happened. Relaxing slightly, he stepped closer and moved around so that he was looking directly at the figure's face. He decided to wait and see if the voice spoke again.

Kikyou…no!

Naraku…

I'll kill you.

I mean it. I'll avenge her death!

Miroku's eyes widened as he listened to the voice call out. It kept saying the same lines over and over, but he knew that the five sentences were the keys to figuring out what had happened to the statue. But he knew nothing of the people named.

"Miroku-san? Is something wrong?" Jumping, the young man turned to see Yokouji, one of the other monks, standing in the doorway. "Er…no, I just thought I heard something." Miroku replied, half-listening to the endless call for vengeance.

Yokouji paused to listen, then shook his head. "I don't hear anything. It must just be the wind."

"Yes, it must be." he replied with a slight smile. He can't hear it…only I can. Miroku thought to himself as he gathered up his scrolls and left the temple. Outside, the wind was howling, and gusts of snow made it hard to see anything. Grumbling about the storm, he waded through the small drifts back to his quarters and changed into his nightclothes.

Later, he stared up at the ceiling, listening to the wind howl around his hut. The voice of the statue still echoed in his mind, and as hard as he tried, Miroku couldn't forget it. There was a deep sorrow behind those words, as well as an intense fury. Something had happened, something major enough to keep whatever was sealed inside from resting in peace for eternity. Sighing, he rolled over and closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep before dawn.

- - -

Many days had passed since the statue started to speak, and no one else had mentioned it. Miroku shivered as he made his way towards the temple, sidestepping a small patch of ice. Although it was hard to tell in the mountains, the long winter was over and spring had arrived. The only thing the monk had noticed was that the snowstorms were less frequent and didn't last nearly as long. But it was still quite cold out, and Miroku was glad when he entered the warmer confines of the temple.

Brushing some stray snow flurries from his robes, he settled down and began to meditate, blocking out the repeated cries for Naraku's death. Relaxing, the young monk let his mind drift, basking in the inner warmth that meditation brought him. He hadn't found out anything more about the statue, not willing to reveal that the stone figure was speaking. Dimly, Miroku remembered the rumours that said a monk had gone mad from the isolation and had babbled that the statue was talking to him. Now that he thought about it, the man realized that it was the same monk who had spoken of a spell being cast on the statue.

Not wishing to earn himself the same reputation, Miroku cast the thought aside and settled his mind. He became so immersed in his meditation that it took him a moment to realize that the floor was shaking.

"Earthquake!" he cried, attempting to rise but failing as the earth shook even harder. Frightened, Miroku made his way towards the statue, hearing the sound of beams cracking and falling all around him. Farther away, he caught the cries of the other monks, but kept going towards the stone statue. The monk felt compelled to protect it, although he didn't know what he could do. Several roof beams cam crashing down, sending a cascade of snow and cracked roof tiles onto the floor below.

Miroku winced as one of the stone pillars shook and toppled over. The protective barrier crackled with pink electricity, then vanished. Gritting his teeth, Miroku stumbled towards it, but tripped over a roof tile and fell over the topped post. He tried to rise, but cried out as the roof above him collapsed onto his back. A searing pain instantly spread from his lower back outwards, and the monk could feel several sharp objects sticking into him.

"Ahhhh…" Groaning in pain, he tried to move forward, but yelped as a blast of pain went through his body. Realizing he was stuck under a pile of debris, he looked up and gasped. A section of the temple roof was on the verge of falling on top of the statue, and even as he watched, the roof dropped down slightly. Gulping back his fear and the pain, Miroku braced himself against the pillar using his left hand and stretched his right hand out towards the statue. He remembered Taro's warning to never touch the stone figure, but he wasn't going to watch it be destroyed!

The earth had stopped shaking, but everything rattled as another tremor occurred. Not daring to look up at the damaged roof, the young monk strained to touch the stone that was just out of his reach. Gritting his teeth as a wave of pain threatened to overwhelm him, Miroku lunged forward with all of his strength and managed to place the tip of his finger on one stone toe.

For a second, nothing happened. Then Miroku heard a loud boom, and the cracks spread upwards rapidly, quickly covering the entire statue. An instant later, slivers of silver light appeared from the cracks, growing into shafts of bright light as the cracks expanded in size. Miroku made to draw his hand back, but he was too slow.

Even as he moved, the statue was engulfed by a column of silver light as the stone exploded outwards, and the monk felt an intense pain stab the palm of his right hand.

"AHHHHHH!" he roared in pain, barely registering the surge of energy that suddenly flowed through his right arm. The arm dropped lifelessly onto the shattered floor, and Miroku felt himself slipping away. As everything faded, he managed to look up to see a figure dressed in red before him. Before he had a chance to wonder who it was, his eyes closed and everything went black.

- - -

And so begins "The Awakening Arc" of this fanfic. I chose to use the Japanese spellings for the character names simply because I'm sued to spelling them that way. Also, I decided to use honourifics to try and give the story a more authentic feel to it. As stated in the Prologue reviews and other comments are most welcome.

From here on, at the end of each chapter will be a list of terms used in the chapter that not everyone may be familiar with, along with their definitions.

Clothing

Hitoe: A type of jacket that is often mistaken for a regular kimono. It is made from the Cloth of the Fire Rat, thus offering Inuyasha better protection in battle and is also fire-resistant.

Kosode: A simple shirt that is often classified as underwear.

Obi: A traditional Japanese belt worn by both sexes.

Hakama: Basically, pants. Like his hitoe, they are made from the Cloth of the Fire Rat.

Items

Shakujo staff: A staff that a Buddhist monk sometimes carries. Made of wood or bronze, they can be long to use as a walking stick or just be a small hand-held item.

Other

Zenrin-ji monastery: A Buddhist monastery founded in 1291 in Kyoto.

Tatami mat: A woven mat made out of straw. An outer layer of rushes gives it the green appearance and helps the mat last longer.