Miroku sat hunched over the coals of their fire for that night trying to keep the damp wood aflame. It had been raining and they were in search for the shards again, so Kagome's noodle cups had spent valuable mealtime in her pack, away from the group's clutches. Bangs fell into his eyes as he stirred the fading warmth and he tossed them out of the way.
"Miroku?" Sango sat down next to him.
He smiled and looked up to her. "Yes?"
"Don't look at me that way, Monk. I just found some dry wood." She rolled her eyes and got back up from her seat. Miroku's eyes followed the curve of her hip into her leg as she walked away from him. Tempting, but he didn't feel like having her hand imprinted onto his face right now. He trailed behind her, managing to catch a few more glances at her lovely hind-side.
They came to a small clearing a short walk away and found the hut in the center. The dew was clinging to the grass this evening, and Miroku felt his sandaled-feet collecting seeds. The air was still moist and the hut had the look of neglect for some time. The roof was falling in a few places, the wooden steps were rotting, and the cloth to cover the opening for the door was in rags. Everything smelled like mildew and wet. Miroku scanned around the outside of the hut to look for a firewood shelter. There was none. And no wood for that matter.
"Sango?"
"Yes?"
"Um…the wood? I hope you didn't mean this old hut. Because the boards would need several days in the sun just to pretend to be dry." He stood next to her with his hand on her shoulder.
"Monk, I suggest you move your hand before it travels somewhere I wouldn't want it—you wouldn't want it there after I sent Kirara after you either." Miroku thought about it, and then removed his hand with a smile. Sango continued. "There is a whole pile of firewood that has been kept dry with skins and straw inside the hut."
Miroku raised his eyebrow. "That seems like a lot of work to go through for firewood when you have a shelter."
Sango nodded and said, "I thought so too. Maybe you can take a look at it and make sure it's safe."
Miroku nodded and proceeded to carefully enter the hut. It was even worse inside. The walls were full of holes from the old trails of woodworms leaving their footprints behind. The air was so wet, Miroku was forced to take small, paced breathes to keep from hyperventilating and taking in too much moisture. The fire wood was piled near the back left corner of the hut, close enough to the walls to be out of the way, but far enough to keep the water seeping in the hut from affecting the wood. Nothing else remained in the hut, not even and old kettle or bed throw.
"Hmm," Miroku rubbed his smooth chin and bent down next to the pile wrapped in skins. Sango was right, someone took at great deal of care with keeping the wood dry and safe. The pile sat on one layer of thick, tough leather, another layer of straw, then wrapped in heavy yet soft skins.
Sango chuckled. "Well, if worse comes to worse, we'll still have some nice skins to wrap up in tonight."
Miroku neglected to respond as he carefully touched the skins and said a prayer. "I don't think it has any incantations on it—at least not the skins." He began to unwrap the wood.
The wood once freed smelled amazingly fresh and rich, as if the skins had helped to preserve the wood's newly cut air. Well, that's what it was meant for, I'm sure, thought the monk. The wood was indeed dry and there was plenty of it for several nights use. Miroku licked his lips. The group would be dinning tonight!
"I don't sense anything strange…do you?"
Sango shook her head and picked up an arm's full of firewood. "Okay then, let's get going. I'm starving."
When Kagome came back with Shippo and Kirara, she found Miroku stirring a large noodle cup, Sango hurriedly eating another, and three more steaming cups sitting near the fire. She was so happy to see hot food she didn't notice one person was missing. Well to be more specific, one half dog-demon was missing.