Obviously i do not own the Manga/Anime or the song.
You Are The Girl
That I've Been Dreaming Of,
Ever Since I Was A Little Girl.
"Ahahahaha! Miroku-Chan! Miroku-chan! I didn't know girls could become priests"
The boys, as children are often wont to be, were cruel. Anything not of the socialistic norm was harshly rebuffed with an ignorance only bred from inherited hatred.
"Miroku-chan's the prettiest girl in the village!" Another mocked.
From the time he was born, it was apparent Miroku was, above all else - for lack of a better term- an Onna's man. Friendly and charming, with roguish habits that put him across -at such a young age- as boyishly adventurous and entertaining rather than any sort of misconstrued wickedness, he put females at ease . Girls, women, females of all ages and races fell into his acquaintance with the utmost cheer. The girls of the village -when he made his rare trips to it in his limited free time- were no exception. If one were to ask any girl (under marrying age, yet logically above that which one learns to communicate) who their best friend was, the answer would be simple, and hardly shocking.
"Miroku-kun, of course." Stated perfectly innocently, straight faced and inconcieving of how unusual it was.
The fact that he was marked; the apprentice to a powerful monk led the families of his childhood friends to accept him into their homes and lives. In the village closest to the temple (indeed the village his own mother had hailed from) Miroku was definitely the most beloved visitor.
However, that being said, it should not be misconstrued that all the residents of the village liked the young priest in training. No, in fact it could be said that the young boy's of the village all held a certain level of animosity towards him.
By now, some of the older boys had joined the circle, as eager as their younger counter parts to take part in such a childish, demeaning ritual. Such an opportunity become increasingly rare as the day went on, girls rushed to finish their chores and tasks, and soon enough the boy would be surrounded by hordes of awaiting fan-friends.
"Miroku-chan! You're sure to grow to be a beautiful woman. In fact, I believe I see a hint of such womanly figure already. Miroku-chan, would you do me the honour of bearing me a child?"
The bully's snickered, believing themselves smarter than all the daimo's writers and painters and artists for such a supposedly witty remark. The eldest - a boy who was particularly bitter about his eventual brides' fixation on the purple eyed boy- drove the message home.
No woman would bear the child of one.
Miroku considered himself above their level of immaturity, and, reminding himself (self satisfyingly, bitterly) that he was gifted, lucky, he was taught and trained and he had a destiny, and that he was the bigger man. Boy. Person.
As he walked away, he consoled himself with thoughts of the woman he would find to bear his children. The woman who would be everything he could ever imagine and more. The woman who would find it perfectly acceptable for one woman to bear another's child, if that was what they both wished. The woman who wouldn't be so weighed down by the gloom of life, like the sad, solemn priestesses that frequented the temple, and was not so caught up with the opinions of others as social custom dictated.
The woman who would love everything and everyone... but also love him, just a little more than any other.
There was inkling in the way she sparkled in the water, the first moment he saw her.
There was a hint in the oddity of her contraption and her mannerisms when he first spoke to her.
However, it was when she came flying into his life (quite literally) that he knew. Her companion (Lover? Husband? Pet?) Interacted with her on a level of equality in absurdity, and just like that, he knew.
I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you.
She came to him often. They would sit and discuss anything that came to the forefront of both bright and capable minds. Her lighter nature clashed with their darker quest, and it often found them discussing the wonder and joy of life, as well as its quirks and idiosyncrasies. Only occasionally would they would drift towards deeper subjects. Through each other, they came to understand the worlds in which they had not born into, and yet both found that, on a level they understood their own worlds even less.
Does the darkness smother light, or force it to shine all the more brighter?
How could the darkness of the world outlast time?
How could hatred and oppression transcend it?
How could they never discover a way to remove the horrible sake-induced after ache?
As it would always be with Kagome, often it was the most obscure things that wrought the most thought and dedication.
Once, she wistfully asked of him to take their mutual companion -the one who was not her lover, husband or pet but was built of fire and passion and arrogance and the negatives all experienced but only some held to- under his wing. It was not a serious request, yet it stuck with him as if it were.
"I- i just, He's so hard to deal with. I love him, on some undistinguished level. His unintentional cruelty is biting, but he's a friend and I won't just leave him. He's a good person, but he can be a terrible companion. I wouldn't change him, but I hope he'll learn to treat people more like you, Miroku."
"Ah. Dear Kagome-sama, the courtly dance of wit and charm is one few men of action hold patience for, and our dear Inuyasha, I fear, even less so."
What was left unsaid was that to him, much like his dreams, his beliefs, his home, his time with her was sacred to him. That which was sacred was held on tightly and, selfish though it were, he would not commit such an action to endanger it.
She knew him like no one else, and that was his alone.
Miroku had always held a roguish air. Mind, body and spirit, he enjoyed the lighter side of life much, much more than the serious one. It became clear, shortly after the addition of the understandably distraught taijiya, that where previously the monk and Miko's brighter nature could suppress the gloom, now with the addition of more to the ranks, the gloom -if left to its own devices- would suppress them.
And so, once more after the completion of what had been innocuously dubbed the Inu-tachi, Kagome both felt and saw the warning signs and acted.
Inuyasha- a being to thoroughly self involved in his own angst if ever they had met such a person- held to none of their frivolous sentimentalities, and with Sango once more otherwise occupied and Shippo dozing, the two spiritual warriors were left to their own devices.
Kagome, knowing the expectations apprentice children are set, sought to relive her childhood and gift Miroku with something she doubted he ever truly experienced.
Laughing, chasing and playing in the idyllic spring weather, it was Kagome's innocent ending to the game of tag that changed it all.
With a joyous war-cry, kagome tackled the precariously perched Miroku, forcing both bodies to tumble down the grassy slope in a heap of breathless laughter. Below him she lay, hair spread in a tangle of wild waves – as it was, eternally- with sprigs of green showing from beneath the sapphire shine. Her effervescent eyes met his, laughter trapped within both blue and purple. In a second, eye's still twinkling with untold mirth; their lips were upon one another as they melded seamlessly from one state to the next. An eternal moment where the wind slowed and the sweet scent of untouched nature overcame the scent memory of blood and hatred.
"You're sitting on my arm."
The Idyllic mixed with the realistic, but the slowly simmering joy, bubbling and lighting the soul as the morning star never faded.
"She's not you're woman!" Inuyasha hollered.
"Yea, well, Muttface, she's more mine than she is yours!" Kouga bit back, minute whirlwinds dancing around his feet in preparation for the oncoming scuffle.
"Actually" Charming Miroku, the mediator stepped forwards, a steady grin lighting his handsome features, arms conspicuously at his sides.
"The lady is mine."
In one fell swoop he dove in, and the couple were parting for much needed air before anyone would even comprehend the statement, much less the time they lost processing it.
"Not that she is any form of object to be claimed, of course." He concluded with a small smattering of light pink dusting his cheekbones (something only kagome could notice –and cherish all the more-).
Soooo... As i'm sure you can guess... i got this idea listening to this song. Plus, MirXKag is adorable and there should be more of it. Oh, and just to be on the safe side... if anyone took offence to the "No woman would bear the child of one." Comment, please don't. It was not meant to offend anyone in anyway, i was just attempting to represent the prejudice and missinformed quality some people (and some children) have. As this is a work of fiction, this does not represent my opinion in any way.
The song (obviously) is Black Kids - I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You So... yea. :)
Anyways... R&R?