Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this journey... especially for the nostalgic one. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

Chapter 25: Sniffing Around

Over hills, through valleys, in sunshine, or rain shower—Sesshoumaru's gait never varied. For the most part, Miroku appreciated the easy pace, but there were times when he would have liked a little variety. Inuyasha had often cajoled him into running like an idiot over the countryside, the two of them pushing themselves in an effort to outrun the maddening sense of urgency that had ruled their lives. Sango and Kagome would follow with Shippo on Kirara, and... I miss them. A pang throbbed in his heart, but for once, Miroku managed to smile through the pain because it was such a good memory. I should miss them. They were dear... and always will be.

While the monk was lost in bittersweet memories, Sesshoumaru's steady stride slowed to a standstill. The taiyoukai gazed about with peculiar intensity, and after several moments, Miroku realized that he was taking deep breaths. Has he been searching for this place... or a scent? They'd been climbing steadily for the better part of the morning, and the high meadow his new lord was scrutinizing was unremarkable, save for its beauty. "Is this it?" Miroku politely inquired.

"Hnn," the inu-youkai replied, nose still working.

"May I inquire why we are here?"

"Hnn," he replied distractedly, wandering off towards a stand of coniferous trees.

Determinedly following, he patiently pressed, "Sesshoumaru-sama, why are we here?"

Golden eyes briefly slanted his way. "I am trying to remember."

"Remember what?"

"A song."

Miroku was stunned. Is he really is trying to recall a childhood lullaby simply because I said it was important? He was forced to hurry his steps to catch up to Sesshoumaru once again, for the inu-youkai was exploring around the roots of the ancient trees that sheltered the grassy slope. "Coming here will help you remember?"

"Perhaps."

"But... why?" the monk pressed, mystified.

"Scent is memory."

"Ah," he replied, thinking hard. He doubted any individual traces could linger so long in a place like this, but perhaps the scent of the meadow itself held significance. "Is this a place from your childhood?"

"This is my birthplace."

Miroku straightened, and slowly, a sense of awe filled him. It was the same when Inuyasha brought us to the place where his mother is buried. The hanyou had been brusquely bashful about revealing the spot... and pleased when they'd all paid their respects. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Miroku detected nothing but clean, clear air and the faint scent of pine, and when he opened his eyes, he found Sesshoumaru watching him with the barest trace of amusement. The monk smiled crookedly and said, "My nose is not as keen as yours, but scents bring back memories for humans, too."

The taiyoukai nodded and said, "The scent of flowers remind Rin of her mother."

"Do they?" he returned, feeling a little giddy over having established actual dialogue. To his chagrin, he couldn't think of anything to say to keep the conversation flowing.

Gazing thoughtfully into the middle distance, Sesshoumaru inquired, "Do you remember where you were born?"

"I was shown the place."

"Show me."

The flat demand took him aback, and the monk asked, "Why?"

The taiyoukai merely lifted a shoulder and gazed at him expectantly. Leaning on his shakujou, Miroku glanced at the position of the sun in the sky as he gathered his wits and got his bearings. "The village is that way... more or less," he announced, pointing.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head and replied, "Proceed."

For several moments, the monk grappled with disbelief; then, he cautiously asked, "You wish me to take the lead?"

"Hnn."

"Yes, milord," he gravely accepted. Choosing a direction that would run them into one of the roads Sesshoumaru was so fond of ignoring, Miroku began walking. After several moments, he glanced back over his shoulder to see the taiyoukai drifting after him, eyes half-focused as he contemplated the clouds. A slow smile spread across Miroku's face, and without a word of warning or explanation, he picked up his pace... then began to jog... then ran like an idiot across the countryside. There was no urgency driving him this time, but it was nice for a change. He actually felt free.

End Note: This installment was written for the Live Journal community iy no kakera, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. I'm slowly working my way through two different prompt tables. This particular chapter owes some of its inspiration to Set #2, Theme #94, Place of Birth. 700 words. Posted on March 17, 2011.