Chapter Two: The Graduate

Miroku felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice. The world lay far below him, but it was foreign and unexplored. The world he knew lay crumbling under his feet.

Graduation Day.

It's not like he had to speak or anything, but his hands were a little clammy at the idea of receiving his diploma. He had been too busy the past few years to think of what he was going to do after graduating. He knew that he would continue working at the IBSP, but now he had debts to pay off. How was he to pay them off and live on the IBSP salary? Where could he find a job that put both his diploma to work and gave him the flexible hours to work with the Bureau?

He didn't know and it scared him. He supposed that, at 26, he was old enough to go off and get his own place. Like he could afford that. There was safety in numbers, anyway. He lived with Fuu and Ferio, and most of the time Ranma stayed with them. He had his own room there. Every once in a while his best friend would be required to go home and make a compulsory check-in with his folks. His dad, Miroku thought, always seemed a little happy that he didn't have to look after Ranma. His mother, Miroku always had known, was sad that she had lost her son to another family,but proud of him for his accomplishment.

She knew, as well as Ranma and Miroku did, that it was because of Miroku's influence Ranma had been able to pull up his marks and graduate university the year before. Miroku was even prouder when his friend managed to get himself a job at a dojo conducting private lessons. There, he was able to make his own hours, and the pay was enough so that Ranma had started paying rent. Fuu and Ferio had refused at first, as politely and eloquently as they could, but when they had seen how serious Ranma was about paying them for his lodging, the three of them had reached an agreement.

Miroku knew that he wouldn't be able to get a job like that. He sighed as he tried to listen to the Dean speaking proudly, as if she had known the students proudly all her life. There was also Sango to think about. She would graduate the year following him. What would she want to do with her degree in science? He knew she had always wanted to work in the IBSP with Urahara, helping to design gadgets and playing with experiments, but now that they were together… did she still want to do that?

His own degree was a major in history, with a minor in religion and language arts. Miroku had worked his ass off to get it, and he was thrilled with the knowledge that he had access to in his mind. The sheer knowledge he had acquired had been worth it… but what could he do with it? He had never really thought about it going into the subject. All he knew was that there was a calling for him in those fields. Every fiber in his body had screamed at him to pick up a history textbook, to pour over some obscure document…

The commencement music started. It wouldn't be long now. When people with the surname 'D' started going up, Miroku went with them. Walking up to the Dean, shaking her hand, and being congratulated all seemed to go by so fast that in the end he didn't have a chance to be frightened of it. As he stood there, shaking hands, he glanced out across the sea people searching for a familiar face.

He knew that Sango wasn't there. He had known she wouldn't show up. Her own university was holding exams that day, so Sango was no doubt poured over some fetal pig she had to dissect and label. Still, a small part of him wished that she had shown up. He always looked forward to seeing her face.

Miroku could pick out Fuu and Ferio's faces in the crowd, smiling proudly and clapping for him. Ranma was the most visible. He was the only adult in the crowd not old enough to be a parent. He also slouched in his seat, bored, but when he saw Miroku he sat up the slightest little bit taller. Miroku couldn't help but grin at his friend. Much to his surprise, sitting next to Ranma was Sango's uncle, Kakashi.

Like Miroku, Sango's parents had both died when she was very young. Her father had been a member at the Indian branch if the IBSP. Her mother had worked at the Japanese one. Kakashi always described that when his sister meant Sorata, it was obvious they had a connection. Arashi had stayed in India and married Sorata. They had both died shortly after Sango turned four. She was sent to Japan to live with her closest living relative, Kakashi.

As Miroku looked up at Kakashi he saw a light bulb go off, and the four of them laughed at the picture Kakashi had gotten on his digital camera. Miroku smiled at them, mentally sighing. So, Sango had asked Kakashi to come to get pictures? He would get them….

On second thought, it probably wouldn't impress the woman he wanted to marry by mooning her uncle.

"I'm so proud of you!" Fuu squeaked as she hugged Miroku. Embraced in a bear hug, Miroku really had no choice but to hold her back. Over her shoulder he could see Ferio with the rakish grin he wore when he was really happy. "Our Miroku is a certified student now!"

"You looked really commanding up there, Miroku," Ferio agreed. He touched his wife's shoulder, slowly peeling Fuu from him. "You really have a stage prescence. When you went up to get your diploma, the lady in front of us began commenting on how cute you looked."

Much to everyone's surprise, a slow blush crept up his face. Fuu had to hide a small snicker behind her slender hand, and Ferio continued smiling. Ranma was trying very hard to keep from laughing and managing to succeed, if barely. Kakashi, however, was the only one who looked proud at Miroku's uncharacteristic display of bashfulness.

"Don't worry. I won't tell Sango that another girl was checking you out," he promised. Miroku sighed with relief, watching Kakashi fiddle with the digital camera. He held it out for Miroku to see, and he watched the younger man laugh.

"I look like a deer in head lights." He passed the camera back to Kakashi and became lost in thought along the way. Both of them held the camera, staring off in space. He watched the youthful summer wind play with Kakashi's silvered hair and knew his own black hair was moving much the same way. It made him feel a small, tender connection to the commanding man. Kakashi didn't need a stage to have a presence. Miroku wondered if one day he might be the same way. "May I talk to you alone, sir?"

Kakashi arched an eyebrow, curious. Miroku released the camera so that he could tuck it into his jacket pocket again. Kakashi glanced up at Miroku's foster parents, silently asking if they knew what was going on. Both of them looked just as confused as he did.

"All right, Miroku."

Miroku smiled. "Great. We can walk and get some privacy. Guys," he said, turning back to the others, "there's a booth set up with food off towards the cafeteria."

Both men watched the others walk away. Miroku felt a strange separation from the scenario as he watched Ranma laugh out loud with his foster parents. Was that what he looked like when he smiled or laughed? Did his eyes crinkle in the same way? Were there already tender laugh lines in the corners of his mouth? Ranma was looking so old already; both of them had matured too much, too fast. Only when Ranma relaxed and became comfortable did the young man in him come out.

Did Miroku's inner self reveal itself when Sango was around?

Kakashi arched an eyebrow, staring down at Miroku. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Oh, yes, sir!" Miroku snapped to attention, as if they were discussing work. He paused, wishing that his robes had pockets. As they didn't, he clasped his hands behind his back. "Do you mind if we walk and talk?"

"Not in the slightest." Kakashi began wandering, and Miroku followed after him. The tall man's strides were slow, and his lean body made his walk appear almost lazy. In comparison, Miroku's steps were quick and alert. He stared up at the sky, feeling the warmth of the bright sun on his face.

It was a beautiful day. The early summer air was warm, but it maintained a crisp springiness to it which kept the humidity away. There were few clouds in the sky, but those that were there were fluffy and white, flawless in color and formation. Birdsongs filled the air, and the colors all seemed to brighten at their songs. Miroku could feel the warmth of the sun fill him, soaking into his body and filing him with confidence.

"I wanted to ask your advice, sir."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "For a long time now I've been thinking about Sango, sir." He paused, reflecting in the growing sunlight to again refresh his courage. "I'm thinking about asking her to marry me."

Kakashi was excellent at masking his surprise. He had years of experience at avoiding and lying. No flicker of surprise or disapproval flickered on his face—Miroku would have seen it from the corner of his eye. Instead, the white haired man missed a step. For half a second, his gait had been out of sync. To the empath, Kakashi might well have been broadcasting his surprise. Kakashi's voice was dry and detached as he answered, giving leave for Miroku to continue. "I see… and what do I have to do with this?"

"You're her legal guardian, sir. I'm aware that doesn't give you permission indeciding for her who she marries, or even liking who she marries for that matter, but it would mean a lot to me, sir, if you'd give me your approval in asking for Sango's hand. I don't want to be intrusive. I don't want you to feel like I'm taking her away from her. I love Sango, sir. I just want your blessing that… that she'll accept my proposal."

"I see…" He repeated. Kakashi had picked up on the small waver in Miroku's voice. He hadn't asked Kakashi just for approval. It was about assurance, too. He was scared and wanted Kakashi's reassurance that he was doing the right thing, and that he wouldn't get rejected. Kakashi stared down at Miroku in silence as they walked. When he felt ready to speak again, he began directing them towards the sakura trees, where they could get out of the sun for a little bit and sit down to converse.

"You're right, of course. I don't have any say in who Sango marries. I will be honest with you, Miroku. I never thought that you and Sango would last two months as a couple, let alone two years. But… I was wrong. You two compliment each other nicely, you respect her, and you make her happy. You should see her face after you drop her off from a date sometimes… I feel like she's sixteen again. You've proven me wrong about a lot of things, but don't prove me wrong about giving you my blessing."

He continued before Miroku could interrupt. "Your nervousness does you credit, Miroku. If you'd walked up confidently and simply stated that you were going to marry my niece, I think I would have been put off by your egotism. There is a difference between self-assurance and excessive pride… and you seem to know where that line is. But I sense that there is something else that you want to ask me too." He watched as the color on Miroku's cheeks darkened subtly. "I can only presume this, too, is about Sango."

For a long moment Miroku was quiet, gathering his thoughts. Kakashi did not urge him to start, but allowed Miroku the time he needed. Had Miroku not been so nervous, he might have been able to perceive the fondness with which Kakashi regarded him. Miroku was a man, Kakashi had concluded long ago, of surprising contrasts, and it was affected by the world around him which aspect he chose to show. He could be both proud and nervous, commanding or nurturing, and either rough and dominant or sensitive and pliable, all depending on the situation. Miroku was androgynous in his behavior, capable of displaying both traditionally masculine or feminine traits. After watching his Sango and Mirokuinteracted, Kakashi approved of Miroku's character because Sango was much the same way. When one was experiencing one trait, the other assumed without hesitation, something to encourage or deter the other's emotion.

He had earned Kakashi's respect; that was why Kakashi had agreed and why the older man was now giving Miroku the berth and time he needed to speak his mind.

"I've been carrying around this ring for about a month now. I keep trying to ask Sango, sir, but I'm… scared. I know I shouldn't admit something like that, of being scared…"

Kakashi shook his head. He sat down under the sakura tree, leaning his head against the rough bark. "It's all right to be scared. Like I said: your nervousness does you credit."

"Yes, sir." Slowly, Miroku sat down next to him. "I'm scared of her rejecting me, and I'm scared I'm going to ask her the wrong way. I don't know how to begin. How do I ask Sango to marry me?"

"This is other piece of advice you needed from me?" Miroku nodded. Kakashi braced his head against the sakura tree with his hands, watching the sky above him. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he thought about the question. "It's not exactly like I think often about asking my niece to marry my, kid."

"I wasn't suggesting you did, sir."

Kakashi glanced over at Miroku to see the younger man grinning broadly. He had recognized that Kakashi as trying to tease Miroku, and his answer had been impertinent, not serious. A small smile began to tug at Kakashi's lips. A sense of humor, too. That was rare to find. Not a sense of fun or laughter. That was fairly common. Miroku had a sense of humor. He could give jokes as well as he could take. Rather impressed by how well Miroku was handling himself, Kakashi gave the answer due thought. After a moment, he began voicing his thoughts.

"The problem with Sango," he began, "is that there are so many different aspects of her to appeal to andit's hard to know which one is proper. Do you ask her in the traditionally Japanese way? Do you ask her in the traditional Indian way? Do you ask her in a human way? Do you ask her in a demon way? Is there a traditional way to ask half-demons to marry you? I don't know."

Miroku nodded, agreeing. "Yeah. That's kind of what I was hoping you could help me with. I guess she's never spoken to you about how she would fantasize getting asked. I think if I were going to do anything, I'd like to ask her the way she always imagined it happening, but I don't know."

"You tried talking to Akane?"

"No," he replied. "I'm afraid that if I do, Sango will pick up from Akane's attitude that something's happening."

Kakashi's eyes half-closed. "Hm… good point." With his eyes half closed, and Miroku with his face upturned to the sun as if he were drinking it in, Kakashi's thoughts were kept hidden. The turmoil beneath his silent, sculpted face was buried deep. Wounds he had thought were long closed began to weep again, painfully. Letting out such a forlorn sigh that he thought his heart would break, he spoke in cautious, treading, slow words. "I was going to be married once, you know."

Miroku's face never turned from the brilliant sun. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yes, I was. I was very much in love. Unfortunately, they died before we could wed."

"That's how you got that eye, isn't it?" Miroku asked. The eye in question was covered up with a contact lens to hide its real color and design. The younger man shivered as that eye turned his way and Miroku felt as if something had pierced him deep within, seeing something it should not have been able to see. He quickly turned back to the warmth and shelter of the honey-scented sunlight.

"It is how I got the eye. My own was taken in the accident that killed my partner in the Bureau. When my fiancée died, I received one of their eyes to give me back my sight. If they hadn't been half-demon, I doubt that it would have worked, but the healing factor is carried in the DNA, or so we assume, and so the eye began healing itself." He paused, and rubbed at the eye, remembering the experience all-too well. "It was a rather painful situation and one I wouldn't recommend anyone else going through.

"Miroku… have you ever noticed that all of the senior members of the IBSP are married?" The young man looked at him quizzically and Kakashi began counting off his fingers. "Fuu and Ferio. Serena and Darien. Abarai Renji and his wife. Rukia and Ichigo. The only three not married are myself, Sesshoumaru, and Urahara. The latter two are so old they have those positions until the world crumbles into dust, I suppose. But as for myself, I was engaged. My partner died, but my job was too valuable a connection to letpass. I was allowed to become a senior agent because I was invaluable, and…."

He stopped. Miroku was staring at him, looking rather confused. Kakashi could still the lingering hope on his face, hidden under the confusion in his blue-grey eyes, that Kakashi could help him. Instead he had been about to make everything worse. Did Kakashi even have permission to tell Miroku something like that?... Miroku was smart. Kakashi decided to be honest, for as long as he could suffer to be.

"They spend a long time, Miroku, pairing people up. It's not like just because one person has a skill for fighting and the other for subtlety we throw them together. The IBSP isn't as concerned with that. They want partnerships that complement each other. Take you and Ranma. You two get along well together, you encourage and support each other, you have some of the same interests, and your strengths make up for his weaknesses and vice versa. Generally speaking, to avoid pre-pubescent infatuations as partners start training as early as eight years of age, most of the teams are the same gender. That is how the IBSP operates, everywhere. But all of the senior couples are generally heterosexual, because they're married couples.

"Sometimes… sometimes Ranma, the IBSP does such a good job putting together teams that when two junior teams are put together, they… they end up falling in love," he said. Plain and simple. Miroku had turned away from the sun and was staring at him now, listening intently. "Eventually most teams pair up. A lot of the time these partnerships are again directed together by senior members of the IBSP. In the case of you four—yourself, Sango, Akane, and Ranma—it was purely by chance and it worked out so beautifully no one could have planned it better. Akane and Ranma struck it off right away, earning their respects with their mutual fighting abilities. You and Sango were a little rougher in the start, but in the end, she decided she wanted to get to know you more."

Kakashi could bring himself to say no more on the subject he was trying to explain. He hated himself, and he didn't know if it was because he was allowing Miroku to go blindly about his dream, or if he hated himself for knowing he was going to have to offer Miroku a choice that one should never have to make. Let him, he decided, keep his hope for now. It was graduation day, after all. It was all about hope, and Miroku had looked so hopeful as he bathed in the golden sunlight. Let him keep that hope.

"When I asked him to marry me, I came out and said it. Marry me. That was it. My personal suggestion is to ask Sango like that. Don't have romance leading up to it. Don't give her a chance to figure out what's going on. It would make her nervous and it might force her to run away… and if she runs, it will take a long time to get her settled down again to ask her for a second time. Just come out and say it. Marry me. Marry me? But… but do it at a time when Sango will never be able to forget it. Make the occasion and the surrounding, the timing special. Don't make the words special, because she'll forget those. In the end it will be the sight of a sunset, the smell of a particular food or place, or a song that will make her remember."

He looked over at Miroku. The young man, he noted, had registered everything he had said and had taken it to heart, but he still looked apprehensive. Kakashi gave him a benign smile, knowing that Miroku was curious, but fearing being intrusive. "Go ahead."

"Um… well… I'm sorry, sir. I just… I didn't really realize you were a…"

Kakashi chuckled and the eloquent Miroku choked on his words with nervousness. "I'm not."

"But… you said 'he'…."

"Yes."

Miroku was staring at him, the apprehension dismissed in a wave of astounding confusion. His eyebrows furrowed and he stared at Kakashi in a way that made him smile harder. He never thought he would have enjoyed telling somebody about his fiancée, but Miroku was proving him wrong.

Kakashi decided it would be best to explain and put the poor boy out of curiosity. "You know who Sorata-san is by now, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. He's Sango's father."

"Yes. His partner, when Sorata-san was alive and working at the Indian branch the Bureau, was his brother. When my sister Arashi and I went over to help them, Arashi found herself falling for Sorata-san. It left his brother and I alone for long periods of time. We began to challenge each other to brawls, chess matches, drinking competition… all matter of friendly rivalry. We barely understood each other. Arashi was our interpreter… but we understood competition. Slowly, I guess around the time Sango was two and a half, I realize that somewhere amidst shots of tequila and losing at fist fights and at chess because of that bastard's natural cheating ability," he gestured to the eye in between the scar that ran from forehead to cheek, "that I loved him. I missed him. And right when I was realizing that, he showed up. I can still recall it clearly. I was set to fly to India immediately and refuse to leave, and I had been the middle of packing my bags when the doorbell rang… and there he was, right when I needed him.

"I had always liked girls before that, on the rare occasion when Arashi wouldn't slap me silly for ogling one. Sango gets that from her mother," he said with a tender smile. "But he was different. Some part of me called out to him, and him to me. I still like girls, even at the time when I was missing physical things about him: his smile, or the way we fought so well together, or how quiet he was when he moved, like a shadow. I wasn't attracted to his body, but to the things his body revealed about him. In was something that transcended sexual love.

"Soulmates. It's a clichéd, over used term, but it's the truth. We were soulmates. I didn't care what he looked like, or what sex he was. I loved him. In the end, I realized I didn't miss the way he fought, or how he moved, or how he laughed. I just missed him. I missed his presence. I missed the way he made me feel. I felt uneasy whenever he wasn't around. And… and call me crazy, but I think that you understand that."

Miroku, to his surprise, looked almost guilty. He very slowly began to nod, wetting his lips. "Yeah, I do. Back when I was getting those visions, I could tell whenever Sango was around. I could pick out Fuu too, and it made me feel better because… because I was always so comforting to have her around. It seemed natural to relax. I mean, I know that she was never really like my mom. I was too old to need a mom when I was adopted by Fuu and Ferio. But I still needed someone to make me feel…"

"Safe? Comforted?" Kakashi asked.

Miroku shook his head. "No. Ferio was the fighter. He could make the home feel safe and comforting as well, because he was always looking out for us. No, I needed someone to make the place feel like home, and that's what Fuu did. I always remember her being in the kitchen when I came home, with fresh cookies ready. And even though we wouldn't speak—just sit there and do work at the kitchen table and eat her cookies—it still made everything feel at home. When I was sick, Fuu's presence made me feel like I was at home. And if she was there, then I knew Fuu wasn't far away. Fuu always stood between Ferio and I, where she was the safest, and where I was the most emotionally secured.

"But Sango was different. At the time, when I relaxed around her I thought it was just relief because it meant she was safe. I was convinced those last visions were about her, that she was going to die… And if she was there, then I didn't have a reason to worry. And back then, when my powers were stronger, I would wrap myself in her aura and her mind. I would never try and read her thoughts. Even with those medications, I wasn't strong enough to be able to read minds like Fuu. But I could still feel her mind, and I would wrap myself in her emotions and just… float. Even now, I find myself so attuned to her emotions that I can feel her in my sleep, or from far away… are you… are you suggesting that Sango and I are soulmates?"

Kakashi shrugged. "I'm just talking; I'm not suggesting anything. Can I ask you something?"

This time Miroku shrugged. "It seems only fair as you've been so honest with me."

"What's the shortest time that you've ever waited to bed a girl after going out on a date with her? Not the average now, the shortest. And keep in mind that I can tell when you're lying," he added with a grin that made Miroku feel he was looking at himself.

He didn't know if the last part was true or not. Could Kakashi see lies? Miroku decided not to try and lie. Besides, he hadn't been planning to in the first place. Kakashi had been honest with him and Miroku felt that he needed to give Kakashi the same honesty in return. "I don't know how long… but, well, there have been a few dates where we've just…you know, ended it with sex."

"Mm-hm. And have you and Sango had sex yet?"

"Of course not!"

There was that grin again. Kakashi's eyes were dancing with silent laughter. "So why the sudden change? No, no. Don't answer me. Answer yourself. But back to your original statement. If you really want to know how to ask Sango, I suggested talking to Urahara. I know that would hardly be the most comfortable thing for you, as you and he were rivals for Sango, but he would have more opinions on the subject than I. Urahara has loved Sango almost as long as she's loved him. It wouldn't surprise me if he had given some consideration into proposing to her before. Even if that isn't the case, he's a demon. He may know of the proper way of asking a demon to wed, or something."

Kakashi didn't look up, but kept staring down at Miroku. "There's a teacher heading this way. Try your best to cheer up, kid. People are going to think I just broke up with you."

A small smile began to reappear on Miroku's nervous face. He looked up. It wasn't just a professor—it was the Dean. Miroku quickly jumped up, trying to be respectful, dusting off his graduation gown of soil, leaves, and sakura blossoms.

"Please, please. Don't trouble yourself. It's your last day as a student, Miroku-san. You should be enjoying it. I hate to break up this conversation, but I have urgent and important questions to ask our latest graduate. If you wouldn't mind, sir," she added, nodding to Kakashi, "may I borrow him for a bit? I promise I will return him within the hour."

Kakashi stood up himself, and smiled. "Of course you may. I feel like going and checking out the food table before Ranma empties it. I'll try to save you something too, Miroku. Ja ne!"

The Dean smiled pleasantly after the man. "He seems charming. Relative of yours, Miroku-san?"

He shrugged. "It's my girlfriend's uncle."

The woman watched Miroku, and then slowly smiled. "I see… I hope then, that he will be a relative soon. I'm afraid that my bones do not run as smoothly as they once did. Would you mind if we remained here for our discussion?" Miroku nodded and the older woman sat down, wincing slightly. Miroku could hear her knees grinding against each other and winced. "Arthritis… in my youth, I was a soccer player. You would never have guessed it now though, would you? I will be blunt with you Miroku-san…. Rezo's sudden and premature departure has left many of his courses unattended. Lina-san is, of course, taking over many of the upper year courses Rezo normally would have held, but it leaves the first-year introductory courses without a teacher. Your university is in a bit of a bind for next year."

"I suppose you are, sir"

The Dean glanced at him with a small smile. "Did you know that you had the highest marks in you class, Miroku?"

His blue-grey eyes widened in surprise. "No… No, I didn't."

"Rezo spoke about you often and highly. That is why I am going to make you an offer. Normally something like this would have been out of the question, but… we need help, Miroku-san. There are three introductory courses Rezo normally would have taught. You not only excelled in those classes and the ones following it, but last year he was thinking of making you his TA. I don't know why he didn't. He simply said that you two had a falling out, and it's frankly none of my business. But… he still recommended you for the position, and he's not without his strong points. You have a natural charisma, intelligent and wit, you'rea good listener, wonderful academic skills, a strong speaking voice…

"We would like you to come in and teach those classes, Miroku. You would get paid less than a normal professor would, as you technically lack the qualifications. It would only be those three classes, but it would enable you to start paying of your school debts. And, providing you are an adequate professor, say, if you happened to start acquiring the necessary documents and degrees to continue teaching, then there's no reason to think it couldn't turn into a full workload by the time you acquire your masters or your doctorate."

Miroku was staring at the Dean. "You want me to teach?"

The Dean nodded. "You don't have to answer right away…"

"Yes!" he cried, jumping up. "I'd be an idiot not to accept the position!"

The Dean smiled and stood up. Miroku helped her settle back on her feet, and the old woman's smile was a little tired. "I will go and break the news to the rest of the faculty, then. Enjoy your summer. I will require you to come and see me once a week over the summer, in order to make sure that you're creating an agreeable course outline and conducting research. I won't let you flounder about, Miroku-san, worry not. Rezo also left his old documents for you, so that you can go over them and use them as you see fit. You can build upon his research and lectures. Shall we schedule our first meeting for… next Friday? That gives you a week to enjoy your summer vacation before it disappears into dusty old books and libraries."

"That sounds wonderful."

The old woman smiled again and left. As he turned back to run to the food table and tell his family the good news, Miroku caught sight of a stately man with dark hair standing far off, in the shelter of a university archway. Miroku recognized the man. Rezo.

Rezo was smiling. As Miroku watched, he slowly put up his hand and waved goodbye. Or maybe he was waving hello.

Slowly, Miroku put up his own hand and waved back. Slowly, he realized that he was smiling back at Rezo. Although he was uncertain what Rezo meant, Miroku knew what he meant. If it hadn't been for Rezo's teaching and manipulation of the faculty, Miroku wouldn't have gotten the job offer. Miroku was saying thank you.

Respect flowed between them, briefly covering up the hostility and the tension which had existed since Rezo had tried to kill Sango and Miroku. Before the respect had the chance to break, Rezo turned and walked away. Miroku, despite being his pupil and now a budding scholar, was still underneath it all a cop. Rezo took his leave before Miroku could draw attention to his presence and take him in for questioning, though no physical evidence remained for putting the older man behind bars permanently.

Rezo had it wrong, though. Miroku was simply Miroku. He had no intention of drawing attention to Rezo's presence. He would some other day, but not on graduation day.

That day was all about the beginning of a new part of Miroku's life, and nothing else.