Cursed Touch

By Rurouni Star

Can't…respond…too many…reviews…

I love you people. You know that, yes? Keep them coming and I shall keep writing. Both stories, I mean it. I'm just getting this one well started; I'll get back to ALAP in a few days.

Yeah. I know. No comfort.

Oooh, but I do have one shoutout: What happened to Oddity? I miss it!

Chapter 1 – Unease

"It is impossible to experience one's death objectively and still carry a tune."

                                                -Woody Allen

            Miroku woke with a start, gasping for air. His right hand was clenched tightly into a desperate fist – tiny shoots of pain went through it from the beads that dug into the skin. He relaxed it uneasily, almost expecting death to come as it opened once more. But the beads still held; and the hole was still closed.

            He shuddered, running a hand through his hair. Naraku had taken rather painful amusement from the latest 'conversation'. Normally the evil hanyou gave up reminding him of his doom by the third time he ignored him. It was becoming a trial to do so now, though… the nightmares were wearing his nerves thin. It was only a matter of time before his normally congenial, laid back personality turned into Inuyasha's – which was much more frightening than death, Miroku thought, the corners of his mouth tugging upward slightly.

            The monk laid back against the wall of Kaede's hut once more, intending to pull a few more hours of sleep out of the troublesome night. But he found that such a sleep refused to come. After a sigh of exasperation (at least he might be able to sleep more while Kagome was gone) the Houshi rose from his spot and walked to the door softly, pushing aside the reeds that acted as a door.

            The night was cool and calm, moon rising over a deserted countryside. A slight mistiness pervaded the world, creating a serenity that belied the dream he'd just woken from. His feet began to move on their own, much as his right hand did on occasion. Apparently, they had decided that he needed a good walk to soothe his nerves.

            He had no specific destination in mind, really. Therefore, it was a complete surprise when he found himself staring down into the eerie darkness of the bone-eater's well for the second time that day.

            "…never even leave that stinking, rotting village they've stuck you in while you wait to die…"

            The thought troubled him. Of course he'd thought of Kagome's absences like that before – it was impossible to not know that each day he spent waiting was another day of his shortened life, gone by. Another chance to kill Naraku wasted.

            But these were unworthy thoughts. He could hardly expect her to give up her family forever. At least she still had one – could any of them even claim something similar?

            The monk turned away, picking his way back up to the village. A few minutes' times found him sitting in front of the hut, staring up at the moon and listening to the beat of his own heart.
 

Badum. Badum. Badum.

            It was hard to believe that it could stop at any moment.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

"You do know. You know you fight a futile battle…"

Perhaps it was true. But it would be worse not to fight it at all.

**

            She rushed from her bedroom in a flurry of activity. Kagome pulled on some clothes and ran downstairs, glancing at the clock on the way.

            Two am…

            She bit her lip as she slipped on her shoes. She couldn't possibly wake anyone at this hour.

            Instead, the girl scrawled a hurried note on the fridge:

            Gone to past. Might or might not be back.

                                                -Kagome

            It would have to do.

            The girl flew to the well house, tripping every once and a while as she went. What if Miroku really was dead? What if the hole had swallowed him, what if it had killed him while she selfishly held them up so that she could shower and take silly tests…

            The girl jumped down the well, a half-waking hysteria descending on her hazy mind. If he was dead… it would be her fault… she'd just seen him hours ago, and he would be gone

            The feeling of freefall faded as her feet touched the ground gently. Kagome found herself climbing the vine that had so confounded her before with a new vigor, going up and up and up… she cleared the top of the well and stumbled over the edge slightly, falling onto the grass for an instant and scraping her knee.

            The rational part of her mind began to set in at this point.

            He's probably fine… you just had a bad dream…

            But a voice in the back of her head was telling her that this wasn't so. And that, dream or no dream, she had been doing something horribly wrong.

            She exited the copse of trees that extended from the forest, stumbling slightly as she went. A few of her scratches began to burn in the cold night air. She caught sight of the quiet hut…

            Kagome heaved a sigh of relief.

            Miroku was there. Sleeping outside.

            She had to suppress a bit of hysteric laughter born from the unimaginable relief (had Sango kicked him out again?). Kagome approached softly. The monk's forehead rested against one raised knee, his unruly bangs pushed back to the sides. His whole form rose and fell rhythmically.

            "Thank god," she muttered, relieved. But she had to know…

            The girl knelt beside his sleeping form, searching for the tell-tale glow of a Shikon shard. She almost gave up, convinced that it truly was just a bad dream…

            But there! Hidden against his chest!

            The shard let off an eerie glow in the mist-filled night. The last bit of corruption faded as she neared it – it had somehow turned a pitch black. Kagome bit her lip.

            It still could have been a dream. She could just be reading too much into it… she frowned. That still didn't make it right. How had she never thought of it? How had she not understood the fact that her tests were leeching away at his life?

            The girl snuck into the hut, dimly aware of the other four occupants of the room – Shippo, curled into a ball beside Kirara (who was purring happily), Sango in a bedroll, her hiraikotsu close – and, of course, Inuyasha. Who was looking rather worse for the wear. She reminded herself that he had deserved it at the time, but guilt began to creep into her consciousness. The hanyou's ears twitched as she passed, and she thought she heard a low growl; but his nose sniffed the air, and he relaxed again. She smiled – there was one thing to be grateful for. She wouldn't have to deal with him tonight.

            Kagome crept over to one of the corners, where a pile of neatly folded blankets sat. The girl took one in her arms, shivering slightly as the cold material pulled the heat away from her body. She slipped through the reeds silently and unfolded it, tucking it around the sleeping monk (whose lips were looking somewhat blue). The girl may have simply gone back in – but her eye caught on his gloved hand, which rested in front of him, beneath the monk's other hand.

            She hesitated. But Kagome could still feel the piercing sensation, the empty hollowness…

            She covered the beaded hand with her own tentatively, feeling the spheres shift beneath it. His hand was warm… but she knew he must have felt the same creeping darkness, even in sleep. It amazed her, for some reason, that it shouldn't register when she touched him.

            Kagome looked up and stiffened. Miroku's opened eyes stared back at her.

            "Kagome-sama…?" he said sleepily. She hurriedly removed her hand.

            "Um… it's nothing, Miroku-sama. Go back to sleep." He chuckled and bowed his head again, apparently still very weary. She let her breath out slowly and rose to her feet. Kagome thought longingly of the bed back home for a few moments before walking into the hut herself and settling against a wall. She pulled another blanket around herself, huddling into it.

            This was where she belonged. It was where she had to stay until they defeated Naraku.

            What kind of a friend would she be, otherwise?

**

            Miroku became aware, consciousness returning slowly. The pre-dawn light had awakened him. He put a hand to his mouth, covering a yawn – and blinked as a warm blanket slid down his shoulders.

            What had happened last night?

            Stretching, sucking, growing…waiting to die…losing battle…

            And something else. Something else entirely.

            Something warm… a hand on his…

            "Ah! Miroku-sama! You're up?"

            Yes!  That voice! That's the one!

            Miroku turned around, suddenly quite awake. "And you're back?" he asked Kagome in return. She blushed, embarrassed.

            "I… there was nothing for me to do there. I decided to come back." He suspected it was a lie, but he let it pass. "So we really should get a move on soon, I heard from one of the villagers that there was a youkai worth checking out to the
north-"

            "You seem very interested in collecting shards all of a sudden," he said wryly, forgetting that he had just decided to let her white lie go. "Could it be that Inuyasha went and bullied you back?"

            Kagome seemed genuinely surprised for a moment. "No… of course not. I would have sit-"

            BAM!

            "BITCH!" came a yell from the inside. "I was sleeping, damn it!"

            The peaceful morning was suddenly not so peaceful.

            Kagome's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh my gosh, Inuyasha, I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!" The so-named hanyou was out there in a moment, scowling deeply; his firerat robes hung from his muscled frame, wrinkled from sleep.

            "Like I'm supposed to believe you!" he accused. "You just say it whenever you damn well feel like it!" His angry expression froze, however, as he came more fully awake. "Hey… wait… you're back?"

            Well. There went that possibility.

            Kagome frowned. "What? Is it so amazing that I might want to go shard hunting for once?"

            The hanyou's answer was a gape. After the immediate moment of surprise, he pinched himself. "I've got to be fucking dreaming…" he said as he shook his head. Kagome's frown deepened.

            "Okay, wise guy, then you get firewood duty tonight. And first watch!"

            Inuyasha's glare was restored, but it didn't seem as serious for once. "Fine. At least you're back."

            That one drew stares from the two figures exiting the hut. Sango raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Shippo, on the other hand, snickered. "Inuyasha finally pulled that stick out of his-"

            The second loud noise of the day was that of Inuyasha bashing the kit over the head. The rest of the morning was predictable.

            "Waaah! Kagome! He hit meeee!"

            "Shut up and keep still so I can kill you, brat!"

            "Kagome! Help me!"

            "Would you stop bugging her? You're the one that said it!"

            Kagome… rubbed her temples. And sat back down. Sango looked bewildered.

            "I thought you were staying another two days," the taijiya observed. Kagome sighed.

            "So did I…" she muttered beneath her breath. Miroku shot a quizzical glance her way. He pulled the blanket from his shoulders and decided that this time he really wouldn't comment. The monk folded the blanket deftly and went inside to stack it – Kagome's eyes followed him from beneath her bangs. She didn't know what she was expecting – but he hadn't said a word. And neither would she.

            "Kagomeeeeeeeee!" A certain fox kit jumped into her arms, huddled in fear. "He's gonna kill me!"

            Kagome narrowed her eyes at the approaching hanyou, who skidded to a stop, eyes widening in realization…

            And she turned away. Just like that.

            Inuyasha opened one of the eyes he had closed, preparing for impact. Nope. It wasn't just his imagination. He was still upright.

            "Try not to act so violent," Kagome grumbled as she went inside.

            He pinched himself again. When that didn't wake him up, he pinched himself harder (and cursed as the pain was very real).

            What the hell was up with her?

**

            Miroku walked forward easily, his shakujo jingling with every step he took. But for all that his outward face held its usual calm smile, inwardly the questions in his head were much too numerous and complicated to answer.

            He put a hand to the shard that rested against his chest unobtrusively.

            She still hadn't taken it back.

            "It comes close now, Houshi. Very soon you'll be joining your father and his father."

            Miroku's face tightened almost imperceptibly, but he kept going… and blinked as he ran into something. It was soft. And… female.

            Kagome, walking ahead of him, had stopped dead in the road. She shivered against him, as though suddenly cold. Miroku blinked.

            "Ah… is something troubling you, Kagome-sama?"

            She sucked in her breath suddenly, and shook her head vigorously. "No. N-nothing."

            He was not an idiot. He knew for certain that it was not "nothing". But what was he supposed to do? If she didn't want to tell him, she wouldn't. And what business was it of his, in any case?

            Miroku reluctantly backed up. "If you're sure," he said quietly. He kept walking… completely aware of her eyes staring into his back intensely.

            Kagome hurried to catch up with him.

            "Um… Miroku-sama?" she asked tentatively.

            He was surprised that she was even attempting conversation. Usually their travel was either silent or marked by kitsune whines and hanyou curses. "Yes, Kagome-sama?" he asked, intrigued. She bit her lip.

            "Ah… um…" It seemed she was trying to choose her words carefully. "If… if you ever want to talk…" She struggled to keep going. Miroku raised his eyebrows, amazed. Why the sudden interest? "-I'llalwayslistenifyouwanttotalk," she finished breathlessly. And immediately went bright red with embarrassment.

            "What was that?" he asked, not quite sure that he had heard her correctly.

            Kagome mumbled something, her head down. But she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. The girl looked him in the eyes. "I'll always listen… if you need to talk about something." Simply saying such a thing seemed to be taking every ounce of willpower she possessed.

            He grew somewhat suspicious. Whatever her motives were, they were good. But why had she suddenly decided that he needed to talk to someone? "Not to say I'm not flattered…" he started uneasily. "But it seems quite sudden. What brought this on, Kagome-sama?"

            She gulped. "It's just… no one ever talks. Ever. Everyone just sort of broods if they have problems and – and sometimes they don't even do that. Sometimes they just hide it and pretend like everything's fine. I just sort of realized it."

            He was surprised to hear her echoing his own thoughts from the day before. But she seemed so genuinely concerned about it. Miroku smiled. Kagome was so naive in her own way… but it was what made her the anchor point in their motley group.

            "You're too kind, Kagome-sama. I'm fine." He thought of the shard against his chest involuntarily. The monk pulled it out, noticing as he did that it seemed slightly off color. Miroku put it down to the lighting. "I believe you forgot this with me before," he explained.

            Kagome's face turned inscrutable.

            I could take it… I shouldn't be listening to those things… Her conscience had been prodding at her unceasingly lately… but… But then, who would know about it? Who would even care about him if I didn't?

            "…no. Go ahead and keep it," she said, feeling slightly guilty. The shards in her own necklace throbbed once as Miroku held it out – but soon went dead. The priest tucked it back into his robes, looking at her questioningly, but not saying a word.

            He'd been doing that a lot lately. Not asking, that was. And was she ever grateful for it.