Note: This self-indulgent, naughty tidbit projects Inuyasha and Miroku into the Old West. Think of it as a premise of immortality, where the Dog and the Monk wander the world together in blissful yaoi happiness forever. And imagine Inuyasha on a paint horse. Unf. This is my first fanfic in a long time; I always come back to IY. Enjoy.
The Secret to Happiness
Welcome, stranger. Set right down and have y'rself a whiskey—on the house. Let me dust off the stool for ya. Y'see, we don't get strangers 'round here too often, so we treat 'em right when we do.
Me? Just call me Gramps, ev'r'body does. Been in this ghost town so long, I c'n scarce remember my name.
What's that ya say? Saw a coupla strangers out yonder, out past the ol' depot? One in robes an' the other with hair white as snow on the prairie?
Well sir, that don't surprise me at all. They don't come into town—what there's left of it, but I know jes' the two ya mean. Nobody can say rightly when those two first showed theirselves in this part o' the Territory. And there's a heap o' tales 'bout 'em, even some who says they ain't human. But mostly we just say live and let live in this lonely part o' Wyomin'.
Here, lemme pour ya another one, and I'll tell ya what I know 'bout the fellas we call the Monk and the Dog.
I was a scrawny beanpole not yet fully growed, when they came ridin' like thunder into our ranch one scorchin' summer day. Said they didn't want no trouble, jes' water and supplies. Had plenty o' gold to pay for it, too. I jes' gawked at 'em, not believin' my eyes. My pappy grabbed his shotgun an' told 'em to git. But my mama, she was part Crow Injun, and her big ol' heart could see kindness in their eyes. Didn't make no difference t' her that one had eyes gold as the sun and ears like a dog. That jes' made him closer to the gods, she tol' me. An' th' other one? Well, his eyes were the color o' wildberry jam, and jes' as full o' sweetness, mama said. Now Pappy, he didn't like that one bit, but we both knew mama wasn't gonna change her mind once she made it up, so he shrugged an' put down his gun an' told me to unsaddle and water their horses. Then mama invited 'em in for supper.
It was a quiet meal, with the white-haired one hoggin' down fried chicken like ya think he'd never tasted food before, and the berry-eyed one givin' him his meat. But after the pie, he knocked back corn liquor with pappy like they'd knowed each other all their lives.
Soon pappy—who never could hold his liquor—passed out on the sofa. Mama told me to take 'em out to set a spell on the porch whilst she washed the dishes and packed what was left in some cloth, along with some smoked meat for their journey.
That left me alone with the fellas, silent and starin'. When they leaned one against th' other and smiled, I finally got up my nerve. "Are ya really gods, like Mama said?"
The dark-haired one shrugged.
"What are ya, then?"
"Just a monk and his dog," he said, with a funny kinda accent I never heard before nor since. Then the white-haired one grabbed and kissed the other one in a way a man don't kiss a man.
"What're ya doin'?" I asked, scared and wonderin' if maybe the white-haired one was really jes' a girl dressed like a boy.
The monk winked and said his peace: "We may look young, but we're not. We don't know how long we'll live or where we'll be when we die. We've traveled for hundreds of years together, from east to west and back again. And in all that time we've learned only one thing.
"Jes' one?" I asked.
He nodded and grinned bigger. "Just one," he said, "but it's the secret to happiness."
My eyes went wide and I begged 'em to tell me with all the yearnin' in my innocent heart.
"Oh, it can't be told," the monk fella said. "We can only show ya."
Hmm, I sure do need to whet my whistle a little. Might as well fill yers up too. What's that? The secret? Oh, it cain't be told, stranger. But if ya'd like to join me fer supper, I'd be right glad to show ya.