Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Inuyasha, I only claim to have written this Inuyasha fan fiction. Author's Note: I have chosen, in my surpreme authoressness (joking, people...), to make use of the following Japanese terms in my story. They are, for the most part, names, titles and honorifics:
- youkai: demon
- hanyou: half-demon
- sama: Basically, a term of respect
- chan: Basically, a term of endearment
- houshi: monk
- bouzu: derogatory term for "monk" (this is what Inuyasha frequently calls Miroku)
- Sengoku Jidai: Warring States Era
- hakama: the pants that Kikyou wears
-
Death-by-Blanket-Senario Fic
by Akane-Lovely
Though the average person may not be aware of it, five hundred years ago, things were considerably different than they are today. Magical spells and potions were far more prevalent than echinacea and the flu shot (and, arguably, much more effective). Youkai were every bit as common as peasants (even though the former did not seem to be killed off quite as frequently as the later). Most notably, however, is the fact that random, freak snowstorms quite regularly wreaked havoc upon the now temperate island of Japan. It is during one such snowstorm that we encounter the hero of our tale.
Miroku considered himself to be a basically good person. As a monk, he followed the Eight-Fold path of Buddah (usually). He didn't steal (much) or lie (often) and he was a very hard-working man (when threatened with bodily harm). At the very least, he somehow managed to keep his thoughts fairly pure during a reasonably good percentage of his daily prayer time. It was a rare individual who would claim to be as virtuous, which is why Miroku had a difficult time understanding why Fate had seen fit to curse him with such a rotten day.
Taking one tedious step after the other, the hapless houshi slowly made his way through the knee-deep snow that had covered the ground in a matter of minutes. He didn't know where he was or in which direction he was travelling; he only knew that he had to keep walking or his friends would find him, several days from now, as a blue houshi-cicle not unlike the frozen treats Kagome-sama had introduced them to last summer. Not willing to be done in by something as trivial as the weather, Miroku trudged on. He tried in vain to catch a glimpse of something - his friends out looking for him, a village, a youkai in the form of a beautiful woman... Anything would have been nice. The only thing that met his eyes, however, was the ever-present snow.
Now, Miroku could certainly admit when he was wrong... to himself, anyway. He should not have ventured out on his own. If he had brought Sango along with him, then the drastic change in temperature would have been quite welcome. When two people with unresolved sexual tension traveled alone together, random, unexplainable blizzards were generally signs of good things to come. It had always been thus: the couple-in-question would happen across a conveniently-located, abandoned shack just in time to escape hypothermia. Usually, the two would be "forced" to huddle together naked under a single blanket (in order to conserve body heat, naturally).
"Ah, Sango..." Miroku sighed, lost in wishful fantasies... That is, until he could no longer ignore the reality of unforgiving winds slapping at his face. The icy fingers were, to the mind of the near-delirious monk, like Sango's divine fist delivering punishment for his errant thoughts. "Another time, perhaps."
The sad fact was, Sango remained in Kaede's village with Kagome, Inuyasha and Shippo, while Miroku was lost in this storm all alone.
Lone men traveling in blizzards do not tend to have anywhere near as high a survival rate.
No sooner had that depressing thought occured to him, than a vision materialized before his very eyes. From the swirling gusts of white immerged a splash of color - a beautiful woman with dark black hair and a cherry-colored hakama. Although her skin was quite pale, she didn't seem to be suffering any ill-effects from being out in this weather. She glided across the ground unhindered, and Miroku began to wonder if she was, in fact, a youkai of some sort. (Not that it would have mattered to him at this point... Or, in fact, at any point.)
The monk continued to stare at her. She was remarkably familiar, but his exhausted mind was having trouble identifying her. Had he asked her to bear his child before? Beyond the point of shivering, he sank to his knees as she moved towards him. If he was going to die, at least the fates had seen fit to let him do so in the presence of such beauty.
"You are Inuyasha's friend, huh?" The woman was kneeling in front of him, now, and Miroku's eyes widened.
"Kikyou-sama?"
The priestess was now searching the horizon with a frown. "Is he out in this weather?"
Miroku could only shake his head in the negative. Kikyou seemed to relax at this. She stood and turned to face the direction she had come from.
"Wait!" Miroku called after her as she began to walk away. He didn't know how she could possibly help him, but he didn't exactly want to be left alone in this blizzard, either.
Kikyou looked over her shoulder at him. "You should follow me, I know where there is a conveniently-located shack nearby."
At the mention of shelter, the monk regained some of his strength. He rose to his feet and shuffled through the snow after her. Miroku wasn't certain just how long they walked. Somehow, following the bewitching woman's path made the trek much more endurable for him. Kikyou was the one young, attractive woman on the face of the planet that Miroku had honestly never lusted after (for more than a minute), but it was difficult to ignore her femininity now that the only thing he could see for miles was her curvaceous backside. He wondered how she would react if he tried to touch her. Would she kill him immediately, or would the death be slow and painful?
Well, if he was going to die anyway...
"Here it is. You should get inside before you freeze to death."
Kikyou turned around, and Miroku's hand stopped mid-way to its intended destination. The priestess raised an eyebrow.
"Before you try anything... untoward, you should know that I have excellent aim." With that, she whirled around and stepped through the threshold of a tiny hovel that Miroku swore couldn't have been there five seconds ago.
"This is... fortuitous," he muttered to himself as he looked over the outside of the shelter. It was a fourth the size of Kaede's hut, but that wasn't necesarily a bad thing. Kikyou couldn't skewer him if she didn't have enough elbow room with which to draw her bow. Besides, the smaller the hut, the closer the two of them would have to sit. For a moment, he thought he saw a sign in neon-orange above the thatch roof flashing the words, "Love Shack." Was it an omen? A vision of the future? Miroku blinked and shook his head - the sign disappeared.
Deciding he had better get inside before he completely lost himself to feverish delusions, Miroku stumbled into the hut - and immediately felt himself losing consciousness.
-
The first thing Miroku became aware of was how warm he was. The second thing was the calming sound of a fire crackling nearby. Next, he realized that his body was no longer numb and he could actually feel his hands and feet. That, unfortunately, led to his fourth realization... he had been completely stripped of all his clothes! In horror, he opened his eyes to see that he was still in the tiny shelter, covered in a thick blanket, while Kikyou knelt a foot away, tending to the hearth. She must have heard him shifting around, because she turned around to face him.
"You're awake. Good."
"Ah, dear Kikyou-sama. Were you worried about me?" (She shot him a look that could have been interpreted either as, "I want you badly" or "die, you lecherous swine," depending on how one chose to interpret it. Ever the optimist, Miroku forged ahead.) "I see you have removed my clothes..."
"They were soaked, so I removed them for you." She nodded behind him, where his robes were currently hanging up to dry. "You would have frozen to death, otherwise. Don't think there's anything more to it than that."
"If you insist, my lady." He propped himself up on his elbows and adopted a look of deep concern. "But, what of yourself? Surely your clothes are also wet. Why don't you hang yours up to dry as well?"
Yes, the look she shot him now was undoubtedly, "die, you lecherous swine." Still, she hadn't moved to kill him yet, so there was still a chance...
"I do not mean to imugn your honor, Kikyou-sama." (Miroku decided that his "innocent" look would work best in this situation.) "You can use this blanket. I would hate for you to freeze to death for my sake."
Kikyou sighed. "It doesn't matter, really. I'm always cold. Whether my clothes are warm or dry makes no difference."
Excellent - Miroku could definitely work with this! He sat up and wrapped the blanket around his waist so that he could kneel next to the priestess. She was staring intently into the flames, but Miroku was confident that Kikyou was paying more attention to him than she let on. He reached out to clasp one of her hands in his.
"That is... terrible, Kikyou-sama! To think that you have been wondering this earth for so long without warmth... I'm here for you, my lady, should you ever have need of a strong shoulder to cry on." Kikyou didn't pull her hand away. That was always a positive sign.
"Miroku-sama..." she whispered.
"I could always keep you warm." Miroku thought he heard soft music playing in the background as her eyes flitted towards him. He couldn't have prayed for a better mood.
"Miroku-sama." She leaned in towards him, reaching out to touch his shoulder with her free hand.
"Houshi-sama."
He closed his eyes as his body fell back to the ground.
"Houshi-sama..."
"Miroku-sama..."
-
"Houshi-sama?"
"Miroku-sama, wake up..."
Gentle hands were shaking him. A voice was drawing him out of his content slumber.
"Houshi-sama, you need to get up, now!"
That last voice was less kind and yet, somehow, even more welcome.
So... it was just a dream?
"Watch his hands. He's probably awake and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to grope you."
And it was such a good dream, too, Miroku lamented. He opened one eye, alowing his vision to focus so he could see the woman kneeling in front of him. After seeing him move, she stopped shaking his shoulder. Now, she was eying him suspiciously. Perhaps she thought he really was only pretending to sleep so that he could grope her. But, Miroku was too confused to think of groping (at the moment), for he was now looking into the eyes of a dark-haired woman who was so like the one in his dream that it was uncanny.
"Kikyou-sama?"
A collective gasp was heard... Then, an oppressive silence. It was funny - the effect that one word could have on a group of people. That is to say, it would have been funny if Miroku had been a fly on the wall rather than himself. The monk couldn't, however, find much humor in the situation with the aura of Doom that suddenly filled the tiny cabin he and his friends were sleeping in and threatened to suffocate him.
Kagome sat back on her heels in shock. Before he could think of a decent excuse to give, her eyes narrowed shrewdly. Her face darkened, and the usually kind-faced woman looked ready to kill.
"N-no, wait," he stammered, "it wasn't like that..."
"Oi! Damn, lecherous bouzu! What the hell were you dreaming!"
Miroku grimmaced and looked behind Kagome to see Inuyasha advancing towards him, most likely trying to determine the most painful way to gut a monk.
"Sit!" Kagome hissed. The hanyou went crashing to the floorboards with a string of curses.
"Hey! What was that for, bitch!"
"Sit, sit sit! This is all your fault, you big jerk!" Kagome yelled at Inuyasha without turning to look at him. "Just sit there a little while longer and think about what you've done!"
Miroku didn't have much time to feel relieved that the girl probably wouldn't let the irate Inuyasha kill him, after all.
"Hooouuuushiiiii-saaaaamaaaaaa!" A sudden chill, accompanied by a pain in the back of his skull, reminded him that there was still someone else in the room. "What exactly were you dreaming about, huh?"
"Please! I am a monk!" They all snorted at this. His "innocent" face was clearly not going to work in this situation.
"Come on, Sango-chan, let's ditch these two idiots - SIT! - and go take a bath."
"Sango... really... it wasn't what you think!" He called after her as she stormed towards the door, following Kagome. Sango stopped in her tracks and pivoted on her heels to face him.
Uh-oh...
She smiled.
I know that look...
Sango walked gracefully towards him... he tried to back away from her, only to find that he was, in fact, up against a wall.
"Houshi-sama?" Her face was inches away from his. Heaven help him!
"S-S-Sango, I -"
Smack!
This time, Miroku saw stars.
-
THE END
-
If you enjoyed this story, please leave me a note and let me know. Thanks for reading! Also, before you flame me, I have some things to say! (I'm trying to anticipate some comments, here...)
A) Yes, I do plan on finishing "Attack of the Warm Fuzzies." Computer issues, life, and a general case of writer's block have been getting in my way. I know exactly what I want to happen next, I just have to write it. Take this story for now - it came as a random inspiration and I had to get it down before it flitted away. That's just the way it goes, sometimes.
B) This is a comedy! Even if it's not your style of humor, please remember that I'm not trying to do any major character studies here. Don't take this fic seriously, is what I'm trying to say. I don't really sail the Kikyou/Miroku ship (if there even is such a thing). I'm actually a big Inuyasha/Kagome, Miroku/Sango fan. I simply thought this would be amusing to write - Nothing more, nothing less. Also, before you tell me that Kikyou was out of character, I want to remind you that Miroku was dreaming!
C) Is this a parody of the blanket fic senario? Yes. Am I writing this specifically to make fun of and/or put down anyone who has ever writen a blanket fic? No. As I said before, I was experiencing a bit of writer's block, and the pre-packaged story idea served as a springboard for my slightly warped imagination.