Disclaimer: I do not own the Inuyasha series or any of the characters.
Summary: Miroku has always been good at misdirection, but when melancholy sets in, he learns that Kagome is full of surprises. One Shot.
AN: As always, translations can be found at the bottom.
Defences
Miroku, seated on the porch of the village headman's house, flexed his hand and let it drop back down to his side. It ached, sometimes, especially after he'd been using the kazaana — not enough to really hurt, but just enough to lurk at the edge of his awareness and make him notice the curse. He'd unleashed it earlier upon the youkai who'd been terrorizing this village, and while he'd earned the group their supper and a room for the night by doing so, he'd found it difficult to enjoy the fruits of his labours.
He'd maintained the façade, of course, because it wouldn't do to let the others know when he was feeling bothered by the kazaana. He could bear the burden so long as they didn't offer too much sympathy, because it was somehow easier to be strong when he could pretend no one was concerned on his behalf. Something about his friends' sad, gentle gazes and comforting words unmanned him, made him feel weak, and robbed him of his desire to be strong. It was easiest to avoid pity.
So he'd laughed and jested, made a show of enjoying the food despite his lack of appetite, and flirted with the headman's daughters. In short, he'd done everything he usually did when he wanted to ensure that his inner world remained invisible. He'd always been skilled at misdirection, and if Sango was busy hitting him, Inuyasha was busy insulting him, Kagome was busy shaking her head, and Shippou was busy making sarcastic remarks, none of them had time to notice anything amiss. So he'd simply acted "normally", and when he'd gotten the chance to escape without drawing suspicion, he'd taken it and retreated to the porch.
Night had fallen, and the autumn evening was calm and crisp. His breath hung in the air before him, white mist rising slowly through the dark. This was half the reason he'd wanted shelter tonight, and the others had seemed grateful for it, too (except Inuyasha, who liked to be contrary, and didn't believe in showing gratitude even if he didn't mind sleeping indoors either). The chill in the air made Miroku shiver despite his thickly layered monk's robes, and the cold nipped at his nose and ears, numbed his cheeks and toes, and made his fingers feel stiff and clumsy. Still, he could not bring himself to move from the spot where he sat. He wasn't ready to slip back inside the mask yet, and so he stayed there, brooding on pain, failure, and his own mortality.
A thick shaft of light fell across him as the door slid open with a soft scraping noise, then disappeared again as the door shut.
"Miroku-sama?"
He didn't turn or answer, and instead just listened to the tentative footsteps on the wooden floor as the speaker approached. He was busy pulling the mask back together, and he really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now anyway. The footsteps stopped near his side and the voice spoke again.
"Are you okay out here?"
He turned to her then, illusion in place, and smiled. "I am fine, Kagome-sama. Your worry is unneeded, but thank you."
She didn't leave as he'd half-hoped, instead stepping closer and sitting down beside him.
"Brrrr!" she exclaimed, rubbing her arms. "It's cold out tonight! I'm glad we have such a nice place to stay."
"Hmmm."
"Aren't you cold?" she continued. "It feels like we'll have frost tonight. How can you just sit there in the same clothes you wear in the middle of summer?"
He turned and eyed her then, studying her strange clothing. As the seasons had changed, she'd traded in her scandalously short skirt for some sort of narrow-legged, dark blue hakama made of thick, sturdy cloth from the future. She'd also begun to wear woolly tops she called sweaters layered over cooler garments, and when the cold was particularly deep, she also wore a heavy sort of haori with strange fasteners down the front.
"I suppose I'm used to it," he replied.
"You should come inside soon," she suggested. "You might get frostbite."
Suddenly he didn't feel like talking anymore. He also knew the easiest way to drive Kagome away without hurting her feelings.
Throwing a lecherous smile up onto his face, he leaned towards her, invading her personal space, and leered. "Such concern for my well-being, Kagome-sama! No need to hide your feelings; fall into my arms and bear my children for me!"
She leaned away, wide-eyed, and he suppressed a smirk of triumph. But then her expression turned coy and she leaned back towards him, nose-to-nose, which was more than a little alarming.
"Miroku…" she whispered softly.
She's getting closer! What's she doing? Oh kami, if Inuyasha saw this I'd be so dead!
"Oh Miroku, I had no idea you felt this way," she said breathily, much too close for comfort.
He stared at her in apprehension as he leaned back to try to avoid her. "Huh?"
Abruptly, she leaned away again, restoring their personal boundaries.
"Nice try, Miroku, but I'm not that easy to distract," she continued. Her expression turned smug. "I really had you there for a minute, didn't I?"
She'd thwarted him, true, but there was one more way to get rid of her.
"That you did," he admitted, stealthily reaching for her bottom. "Such a beautiful, cunning woman as yourself…"
She caught his hand before it could reach its target and held it trapped in both of her own. "Stop that! You think I don't know what you're up to?"
She was annoyed with him. She'd go away now. He'd be alone again.
But she stayed right where she was, and she continued to clutch his cold hand in her warm little ones. She gave it a little shake, as though to make sure she had his full attention. "Why are you so determined to be lonely, Onii-san?"
He gaped at her for a moment.
"Onii…"
"That's right," she said determinedly. "Onii-san. So propositioning me and trying to grope me is highly inappropriate."
"Of course," he murmured, feeling ridiculously out of his depth.
"Now come inside out of the cold," she said, standing and tugging at his hand. "It's not good for you to sit out here moping when there's a warm room full of people who care about you."
He stood obediently, letting her hook her arm through his and propel him to the door. Did she really see him as a brother or was it just a joke? She seemed sincere, but he felt unsettled by this unexpected turn of events.
Inside, she made him sit down with Inuyasha, Sango and Shippou, and immediately started fussing over him. "Are you still hungry? You didn't eat much at supper." She pushed more food at him, and he was mildly surprised to realize that suddenly he was quite hungry after all.
"Thank you."
"You must still be cold from sitting out there," she went on as he struggled not to shovel the food into his mouth the way Inuyasha usually did. "I'll go ask for some tea, how's that Onii-san?"
The others were staring, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Yes please, Imouto."
She gave him a brilliant smile and flung her arms around him, squeezing his ribcage with surprising strength. He felt his cheeks heat (was he blushing? he didn't usually do that…), and felt extraordinarily pleased. Then she released him and fairly skipped out of the room to go and beg some tea from the headman's wife.
"What the hell was that all about?" Inuyasha demanded almost as soon as the door slid closed.
Miroku focused on his food, pondering the odd juxtaposition between the coldness still lingering on his skin, and the warmth filling his insides. "I don't expect you to understand," he replied loftily.
And I'm not going to try to explain it either, since I don't quite understand it myself, so don't ask.
Inuyasha snorted, and Miroku felt a little of his mischief return. He lifted his eyes and stared at the bewildered hanyou.
"By the way, Inuyasha, we need to have a little talk later, you and I."
"Oh yeah? 'Bout what, Bouzu?"
Miroku felt the smirk escape him. "About your intentions towards my imouto."
And as Inuyasha spluttered and Sango and Shippou laughed, Miroku reflected that he'd realized two things tonight.
Solitude was not the best way to handle a dark mood.
And Kagome was an angel in a thin disguise.
::Owari::
Translations:
Kazaana – Miroku's wind tunnel
Youkai – demon
Hakama – wide, pleated trousers tied at the waist (but in this case, Miroku is referring to Kagome's jeans)
Haori – short kimono-like garment used as a jacket
Kami – god/gods
Onii-san – older brother
Imouto – little sister
Hanyou – half-demon
Bouzu – derogatory term for a Buddhist monk