Summary: Miroku has a nightmare. Will he find a way to forget about it?
A/N: This is a little gift for sunshineisdelicious.
How To Forget A Nightmare
His hand was burning as if it was being held in fire. He wanted to scream, but whatever noise he made was sucked in the howling wind. The darkness and pull of the hole in the palm of his hand was the source of the most terrible pain.
He looked around in panic, trying to see where his friends were. For a brief moment he felt relief wash over him, because the forest meadow was empty and the void was sucking only trees and dirt.
But then he saw the ground and the realization hit him with enough force to bring him to his knees and weep. There were three marks on the ground, all leading towards his hand. One was deep and broad, likely made by a thick object. The second was just a set of twenty lines, not as deep and much thinner than the first one, looking like something tried to use its claws to stay rooted. Judging by the width of the mark it belonged to Kirara's battle form. The last was like a mark left by Tessaiga's blade all those month ago, when he had tried to suck the hanyou in his void during their first meeting. There were no marks indication Kagome and Shippou's fate, but he didn't need them to know what had happened.
His friends weren't there, because they were already gone down the cursed void.
Miroku woke with a start, gasping for air as he curled in a ball under his blanket. He almost didn't dare to open his eyes, but he needed to know. The night forest was serenely silent and this lack of howling wind made him finally lift his eyelids.
His friends were fast asleep, everyone where they had went to sleep. Kagome was resting in her sleeping bag under the tree on which Inuyasha was napping. Sango was curled into Kirara's side.
He felt dizzy with the relief of seeing them alive and well. Taking deep breaths to calm his rapid heartbeat he forced his body to relax. It was just a nightmare, one of many he had since his father's death. Only the people dying changed in his nightmares. Before in his dreams he had sucked his mother, master Mushin and Hachi. Now the dreams changed, featuring his new friends more often. 'I knew they will be appearing in my dreams,' he thought bitterly. 'All people I let too close to me do.'
Since leaving his master's temple he had always tried to avoid too close ties to others, moving swiftly across the land not only to avoid being discovered as a fraud, but also to prevent more people to appear in his nightmares. He had lived not attached to others until, one day, he had met the miko, the kitsune and the hanyou. He had been reluctant to join the unlikely team because he had feared growing fond of them, but it had happened anyway.
One could think that he should be already used to the dreams, the knowledge he could die from his cursed hand. Yet it wasn't true. No day passed by when he thought about it. But he refused to be influenced by it, to soak in despair and sorrow. He chose to use his curse to help others, for as long as he could, while looking to change his fate. Every time he dreamed this dream he was silent and melancholic for a while, trying to forget the fear, the feeling of utter helplessness, of being unable to free himself and not pose a threat to others.
He had always been wandering, fighting alone, but now it changed.
Since he had met the team he had felt more hopeful than ever. But the dreams were plaguing him still, reminding him about his terrible fate and that he had to be always watching his hand, so he wouldn't harm those he grew to love as his most dear friends. He refused for his curse to end their lives. Still, he used it as a tool to help them, to protect them, to stand at their side while facing the world.
A hand touched his cheek and Miroku's eyes snapped open. Concerned emerald eyes were looking at him.
"Shippou?" he asked.
"You had a bad dream," the little kitsune said. "Wanna me cheer you up?"
"Oh," Miroku smiled faintly. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to play or talk right now. We don't want to wake others up."
"Feh!" Shippou replied softly. "We can do something that won't wake them up and still help you forget the bad dream. My dad used to do it when I had my bad dreams."
Miroku raised himself on his elbow and gave the kitsune a nod, accepting his offer.
Since he joined the gang he was never alone to push back the feeling of depression, there was always someone who offered help. Even if it was Inuyasha grumbling at him to stop overthinking things.
.
Inuyasha woke up and quickly looked down to find Miroku and Shippou awake and sitting reclined against a nearby tree, looking up at him with amused curiosity. He scowled at them, thinking that the morons were probably just glad they woke before him. The females were still asleep, so instead of yelling at them he decided to remain quiet.
As he glared in annoyance he noticed something flashing behind him. It was white and was moving fast behind his back. He could hear the think things swishing through the air. With a silent growl he jumped to face the thing on the branch and found nothing out of ordinary there. His surprise was broken by two chuckling idiots on the ground. He growled down at them and that white thing appeared for a second, just on the edge of his sight field. With a frustrated growl he reached a hand for it and caught it. His claws dug in the thing and at the same time he felt pain.
It was nothing like he knew - it was coming to his brain from a limb he wasn't sure how to label. Before he could decide what it was and what to do, he lost his balance and almost fell on top of Kagome, bringing much joy to the audience.
The commotion of course roused Sango, who jumped from under her blankets and reached for her wakizashi to fend off the attackers.
Just to see that she wasn't wearing her usual attire. Her plain yukata and wrap skirt were replaced by a flowing garment of rich silks, more fitting a princess than an exterminator. She tripped over the multiple layered kimono and almost fell on her back, squeezing the elaborate bow nestled there.
"What's the meaning of this?" she called towards the monk and kitsune sitting under a tree. Then she saw the hanyou who was now crouching ready to pounce at them and her jaw dropped. "Inuyasha!"
"...Osuwari," Kagome mumbled sleepily, thinking that the hanyou had angered Sango somehow. The next second she had the boy thrown across her legs and unable to stand up, his thin cat tail swishing in agitation and hitting everything it could reach.
"Oi, what was that for?!" Inuyasha hissed from where he was pushing himself off of the ground. "I did not-!"
He never finished his sentence, because he was too busy staring at the sight that was Kagome with orange highlights in her hair and fox ears sticking out of the tangled mane. Kagome noticed his stare and carefully reached up to pat the top of her head and gasp when she found the two fuzzy triangles. While they were distracted staring at each other, Shippou ran to hide behind Kagome, just in case Inuyasha figured out that all the oddities were results of the illusions he had cast the previous night.
Miroku didn't think about preserving his life, he was too busy rolling on the ground and laughing. Until the eight-legged Kirara jumped on top of him, demanding to be freed from the terror of added limbs.
Shippou peeked out from behind Kagome to see the older members of the gang in various stages of shock, mirth and annoyance. Miroku didn't look sad anymore, so he guessed his trick to make him smile again worked.
Now he had to figure out a trick to keep his hide from Inuyasha, who was sure going to throw a hissy fit.