KEY:

Dialogue

Inner Thoughts

Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own anything. . .

Chapter 37:

(Miroku POV)

Committing a sin was easy, waking up and looking that sin in the face was the hard part. Temptation all powerful is nothing compared to the willpower of man though Miroku still found himself beaten by the inescapable grip of temptation. Not just any temptation but one of the flesh.

Now Miroku was always known for being a lecher, however, to commit sodomy was something even Miroku never stooped so low to do. To bed, a demon was an even worse crime. But what could he do now? Repent and hope his soul would be saved or embrace the fact that somewhere deep in his body he felt comfort in the way this demon's large muscular arms wrapped around his body protectively. Or the way he could still feel the others most sacred liquid spill from his insides.

I'm disgusting. Miroku thought but still felt a small smile tugging at the sides of his lips when Gaara pulled him underneath him. But how? How had they come to this? He had hated Gaara but somehow in his drunken state, he found himself being filled with everything that made Gaara a man and he liked it! Nothing like this had ever happened before but also he had never felt himself so fully contented and so thoroughly pleasured.

I have to get out of here. He was not thinking like himself. No, sin had corrupted his mind and rewrote everything that he knew to be wrong and made it right. No matter how good Gaara smelled or how nice it felt to be held so tightly, this was wrong.

Miroku pulled himself from under the larger man feeling that warmth that the other provided slowly leave his body leaving him cold. He rolled himself over to the side of the bed swinging his legs to the side so he was sitting up right before a string of pain shot up his backside. He grunted rubbing up to his lower back as he reminded himself: this is the price of sins.

From the other side of the bed, he could hear Gaara shifting, most likely awakening from his own slumber at the absence of Miroku's body. "You know...you probably won't be able to properly move for a few days so you should just lay down and rest." Gaara's voice was deep and to Miroku, it almost sounded like a slight tease hid in his throat, his eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he slowly turned his head to send Gaara a glare deadly enough to kill, but Gaara wasn't looking at him. Instead, the red-head sat on the other side of the bed stretched his tired body while showing off every well-defined muscle in his back and arms. He seemed like a god- sculpted, large, and magnificent. His hair, long to his waist, fell beautifully down his back, a perfect representation of its owner's fiery soul all while captivating the onlooker's eyes with its beautiful vibrant color.

Miroku tore his eyes away. He shouldn't have wanted him this badly. It wasn't as though Miroku had a history of liking men. In fact, the exact opposite he had a very strong infatuation with women, one that could rival the sexual desires of himeros himself, but Gaara was different. His voice, body, and even just the way Miroku could see the slightly stinging electric aura of power that surrounded Gaara-

That's new. Miroku could have sworn his eyes was tricking him but nope he could definitely see Gaara's demonic aura, pulsing and powerful like some sort of new spiritual ability. But it would be simply preposterous if he gained a new spiritual ability while committing a sin...right?

"If you think I would stay in your bed for a moment longer you would seriously play me as a fool," Miroku responded by gaining Gaara's attention before he slowly turned around to look at the monk. His green eyes gazed lazily at the monk for a moment before it glazed over his naked body. Instantly Miroku grabbed a handful of the sheets beside him and wrapped them around his vulnerable body.

So that how it felt like to be stared at like a piece of desert. It was revealing and uncomfortable but had it been anybody else he would not have felt that flutter of excitement in the pit of the stomach that even after Gaara had sobered up he still wanted him.

"And here I thought we had grown a bond." Miroku frowned at Gaara's statement. The redhead was so...Miroku could not even find the words to describe him. He simply hated that smug behavior. Gaara turned around and stood to reveal a good tone pair of buns and it took everything in Miroku to neither be envious or aroused as he casually pulled on his hakama and pulled his hair up into a lazy bun.

"I hope you know what happened last night can never happen again. And that you can tell no one about what transpired between us." Miroku stated firmly so his position on the matter was clear. He wanted no reminder that this had ever happened and he hoped Gaara was a reasonable man to accept these condition. After a moment of silence the red-haired demon slowly cracks his neck and without looking at him laughed humorously to himself.

"As if anyone I know would even care." He whispered before continuing with a voice that suggested his next words were for the monk. "What do I look like? some kind of female that would runs and gossip to her friends?" Gaara shook his head as if he was growing fed up with the conversation before he began to shove a haori in the travel bag he had brought with him.

"Not even Sesshomaru." Miroku clarified gaining an aggravated sigh from the demon as he pulled on a new haori over his body and turned to look at the monk. The travel bag swung over his shoulder so that it was painfully evident that Gaara was not just dressing.

He's leaving.

"I won't tell anyone that I fucked you while we were wasted and intoxicated, happy?" Miroku nodded slowly, suddenly keeping his little secret was less important to him as he realized Gaara was leaving. Miroku stood from his spot on the bed and ignore the pain he felt in his lower back as he slowly limped over to the tanuki demon.

"Where are you going?" Gaara's annoyance seemed to dissipate for a moment, before quickly returning to his face. He frowned a frown that was almost cute to Miroku. He was so honest, all his facial expressions worn on his sleeve as though he wanted the world to know. He reminded him of Inuyasha but he was much, much more gentler...and bigger.

"Does it matter?" Gaara's voice pulled Miroku from his thoughts and admiration returning him to the present moment where Gaara was about to leave him. Miroku's hand reached out to cup his cheek before his mind could properly process the consequences of such actions. He regretted it as soon as his hand touched his, stubby and warm, cheek and tried to pull away but before he could Gaara's larger hand took a hold of his own and cuddled his cheek against his palm.

A warm feeling spread in Miroku's stomach as he watched the peaceful expression on Gaara's face. His eyes gently closed so the only thing his mind could focus on was the soft cushion of Miroku's hand. They stayed like that for a moment before Gaara's deep voice broke the silence.

"Mating season prevents the group from traveling to defeat Naraku but I don't need the group to kill him. I can do it all on my own. I'm going after him. I cannot sit here and wait a whole month to kill him." Miroku's eyes widened as he heard the words leave his mouth. Was he stupid? He couldn't kill Naraku by himself. Miroku pulled his hand away from Gaara's cheek.

"You can't fight him by yourself. Are you crazy? He'll kill you. I can't let you leave." Miroku snapped. He began to reach for the travel bag to put it back down but Gaara took a step back so it was out of his reach. Miroku stumbled forward his pain pushing him off balance from the sudden movement.

"You...do not control me." Gaara hissed as he took a few more steps back. "And if you were smart you would not stop me from leaving otherwise I might get mouthy about last night." Miroku leaned back a hurt expression replacing his concern before he glared at Gaara.

How could he say that? He wanted to hit him. He wanted to be angry but he was too shocked and too confused and to be honest, he didn't even know why he was trying so hard to make him stay.

"Fine then. Go ahead and get yourself killed, Gaara." Gaara waited a moment, simply staring at Miroku before he shook his head and slowly turned away. He reached for the door and at that moment Miroku felt something in his heart reach out and grab a hold of Gaara's hand.

"Wait...dont go." Gaara glanced down at Miroku shaking his hand off of his as he reached for the door again. "Fine...but at least let me come with you. I know Naraku better than you do, I could help you."

Gaara actually paused at this. Turning so that his body was facing Miroku. He released a sigh before he placed his bag down on the floor and reached over to lift Miroku off the ground. With one swoop he lifted the monk into his arms and carried the monk all the way to his bed before placing him down. Gaara hovered above him for a few moments. Letting his fingers rub against the bottom of Miroku's lips before leaning down and giving him and a chaste kiss. To Miroku, it was too quick but to even think that was a sin in itself so he killed the thought as soon as it came.

"You need to watch over Inuyasha. He's very sick and he will need his friends. Don't worry Naraku will not harm me...I will come back to you." Miroku's breath caught in his throat. Why would he say that last part? What would make him think Miroku wanted him to come back for him? He just didn't want him to die.

But somehow, despite all that Miroku believed, those words were enough to silence all of his protests long enough for Gaara to walk out the room and leave him alone.

The day had rolled over into the night and Miroku waited until he could finally gain the strength to walk and finally make his way out of the room. By the time he did and entered the lounge, he found his pack all surrounding each other, worried expressions on their faces and the shadow of possible death.

Did something happen to Gaara? Was his first thought and he hated himself for it because it quickly dawned on him that there something terribly wrong with Inuyasha.

"What's wrong?' Miroku asked as he circled around the huddled group and took a seat between Kagome and Sango. Kagome's eyes were puffy with tears and Sango's eyes burned red as she struggled to contain her own. Shippo was snuggled against Kagome silently sobbing. As Miroku's eyes scanned the room his worry multiplying by ten folds. His group was not the dramatic type, they had been through far too much to let simple things cause them so much distress.

He's seriously hurt. Miroku concluded. His face hardened as he braced himself for the bad news but to his surprise, his pack didn't answer his questions, the demonic healer did.

"Inuyasha is currently receiving an energy transfer. His body had begun a physically straining process that required an abundant amount of energy Inuyasha did not have. You see during the mating season a demon who had not experienced mating would go through something known as a preheat in which his body would be physically transformed into a 'matured' demon...or in other words an adult demon. It's the demonic equivalent of what humans refer to as puberty but unlike humans, this process requires an ample amount of demonic energy and takes over a period of a few weeks instead of years. Inuyasha lacked the proper amount of demonic energy needed to undergo this stage of maturity... so it is killing him by drawing on the energy his body needs to simply live." Miroku's lips gaped slightly open as the information was relayed to him. It was so much but more importantly, it was so scary.

"Well...what does that mean? Is Inuyasha gonna…" he couldn't even finish the words, it felt too taboo to say. Instead, Miroku's hands rested against his mouth as he tried to subdue his fear and his guilt. While his friend was going through all of that he was...

"No, he will not. At Least not if my theory that Lord Sesshomaru's energy is a match for Inuyasha's. Plus even if I am wrong the season may fix our problem for us." The last bit was muttered but Miroku was just content to know his friend's life was not over and that he had a fighting chance. Miroku lifted his face from behind his hand. Was this also the price of his sin? The life of his friend? It sounded preposterous to even think about but Miroku could not help feeling as though all of this was his fault.

It's not about me. He reminded himself. It was a serious problem of his to think the world surrounded him with tragedy to punish him, but Inuyasha was not a tragedy. The healer had a solution. even if he didn't seem one hundred percent certain in it, he seemed to believe Inuyasha would survive this- if the glint of confidence in his eyes told Miroku anything.

"and ...Lord Sesshomaru has agreed to donate his precious demonic energy to our dear friend?" Miroku asked looking up at the healer just in time to notice him nod slightly. A small sigh escaped his breath. The feeling was not complete relief but it no longer felt as though he was smothering, suffocating with fear, now there was hope.

"Yes, despite what you must think Lord Sesshomaru cannot bear the idea of losing Inuyasha especially after establishing such a unique bond with his brother." at this statement everyone's ears perked up. Shippo even stopped sobbing as everyone's attention was focused on the healer and his words.

"Unique bond?" Kagome finally spoke up after her long silence to voice what everyone else must have been thinking...or at least what Miroku was thinking. " What unique bond could they have possibly grown." Kagome didn't hide the accusation in her voice. After all, she hated s

Sesshomaru the most out of all of them because of what he did to Inuyasha. Miroku was angered with the demon lord as well but he remembered the day that their pack rested at the village and Inuyasha told him the reason for his sudden departure and what had transpired between him and Sesshomaru because of it. Miroku knew that something was beginning to change between the two brothers but a bond was the last word he thought would be used to describe them- at least not so soon. With all the fighting and arguing and especially with how divided the traveling group had been he had not thought a bond was secretly forming.

They had always ignored each other's existence and now they are facing their issues head-on. Miroku supposed. Perhaps a bond could have grown under those circumstances or at least an understanding or tolerance of one another. It was honorable and undoubtedly praiseworthy.

"Well the brother's are no strangers to conflict but they care for each other even if they have not noticed it yet." Miroku could see the red flushing through her features. An inner anger and hatred for Sesshomaru boiling in her blood. He grabbed her wrist, quickly trying to subdue any anger but he grabbed the wrong member of his group, it was sango that snapped first.

"Sesshomaru has inflicted years of abuse on Inuyasha and you expect us to believe that he cares for him!" Sango cracked, her anger breaking through her usual neutral expression. " That is literally a load of bull. I don't know what these whole let's be friends bullshit is you demons are trying to pull but we are not friends. Sesshomaru does not care about Inuyasha- he never has. Our agreement is sole to help kill Naraku and that is it. We will be done dealing with you demons until we are in our graves. So do not get comfortable." Sango stood up from her spot and marched out of the lounge. The rest of the group stood as if in total agreement with everything she said and followed her out. Miroku stayed where he was. His eyes fixated on the ground, his hand left in the spot kagome shoved it when she followed the demon slayer out, but he could not follow them. Not after what he had just done. He couldn't share in their hatred which made him an outsider. He couldn't hate them all not when his mind wondered if Gaara was safe. Not when he prayed Sesshomaru did care enough to save his friend. It just was not possible when he could still feel everyplace that Gaara touched him.

I'm a traitor. Was Miroku's only explanation. An explanation that left him isolated from the rest of his group. He could never tell them what he had done- he had already known that- but now not only his pride but his friendship was at stake and that terrified him.

"You and your group of friends are stubborn…" the healer spoke. Miroku tilted his head up to look at the demon as he followed his words. "But I believe you and Inuyasha will figure out a way to help them understand."

What? Why did he think that? Why did he believe he didn't share the same hatred as his friends. He wanted to ask but feared the response and simply stared at the healer walked out of the lounge to his room.

The next few days were spent with Lord Sesshomaru and Inuyasha in complete isolation. No one knew of Inuyasha's condition but the healer promised that their friend was doing okay. Miroku avoided many contacts with his pack only interacting with them when he played with Shippo.

Any moments alone were spent with him wondering where Gaara had gone and when he would return. The demon occupied his mind whenever his brain would idle. He tried to stop it. Tried to forgot these needy feelings that he's recently acquired from the demon but the more hours that tick by the more he craved the return of the crimson tanuki even more. He didn't know where these sudden feeling came from but he wished deep in his heart they would go away.

Otherwise, he felt he might literally die.

Whether from his loneliness at being apart so long

or the guilt that came with wanting to be with him so badly.

It had been too long since he had seen Inuyasha. He felt if he heard his friends voice he would be okay or perhaps he hoped that the healer's words would grow to mean.

Gaara's absence should have brought more peace to Miroku, however, the god of sufferance didn't kill- no he took prisoners. Miroku was one of many.

Inuyasha was locked in confinement for the last week with Sesshomaru. The healer promised their friend was getting better but other than his word it was anybody's guess. The pack was growing restless and where Miroku would usually take this time to put everyone's mind at ease he was too guilt-ridden to speak to them outside of small talk and playing with Shippo.

Day one he thought the guilt would kill him, then day two the loneliness hit. Not the kind of loneliness you feel when you haven't spoken to a friend in a few years, but the loneliness that tears at your heart and leaves you bitter and cold. The loneliness that accompanied death and filled your soul with emptiness.

Yes, that was how Miroku felt. He felt as though even with Inuyasha in confinement he was the one who was truly isolated. Alienated from his friends because of a sin that smothered him silent.

He was a coward. That was undeniable. His fear should not have made him keep this secret for so long, but how could he. How could he look at Sango and tell her what he'd done? He couldn't! She'd hate him.

I can't handle her hating me.

So he stayed in his room, curled under a thick layer of sheets thick enough to block out the world. So when nausea, the guilt, or the loneliness hit him, he would be alone. Away from his pack. Away from anyone who might dare know.

A series of knocks echoed throughout Miroku's room and mere seconds after the healer stepped in. His blonde hair fell down his face innocently as he peaked his head through the doorway with a sympathetic smile.

"I was told you weren't feeling well. Not so much told but threatened by the women in your pack. They are quite the bauldy bunch aren't they." The healer closed the door behind him and immediately Miroku sat up. The words from the last time he'd been alone with him echoing through his head and the question that plagued him for days resurfaced in his mind.

What had he meant by those words?

"Do you mind if I take a look?" The healer asked as he cautiously stepped towards the bed. Miroku shook his head before lifting up a hand halting the healer's movements.

"I am fine. I am just a little nauseous." The healer looked at him for a moment. His eyebrows furled in confusion as his blues eyes scanned down the monk's body. Immediately Miroku pulled his robe tighter against his body before looking away. He hated when demons stared. It made him feel vulnerable.

"Hmm." The healer clicked his teeth before walking over to a single chair at the corner of the room and taking a seat. " I'm sure you have been. However, nausea for such an extended amount of time is a cause for concern."

"it has only been a week." The healer's pressing earned an eye roll from the monk. He couldn't stand the probing especially since he couldn't say that the nausea was due to the guilt that had been building in the pit of his stomach for the last few days.

"A week too long." the healer continued before he released a low sigh. "please, sir Miroku if you are fine a simple check-up will mean nothing. It will simply put your pack's mind at ease. They worry about you, please consider them." Miroku stared at the healer whose eyes remained as innocent as ever. He couldn't help but falter at the mention of his pack, though something told him that beyond those innocent hues was a mind that knew all of what would make him bend. He sighed, hanging his head low before nodding slowly.

"Alright.." He agreed. "Just make it quick." The healer's bright smile returned before he bounced up off the chair and walked over to the monk.

"That is fantastic." He grinned as he took a seat the corner of the bed. As soon as he did his bubbly expression was replaced with a more stoic professionalism as he began to look at the monk. He started with eyes, before moving down the sides of his face and looking at his neck. He paused at the beginning of his robe, looking up for permission. Miroku nodded slightly before the healer continued his checkup, moving the robe off of Miroku's shoulder and running his hands against the monk's chest. "How long has this been here?"

Miroku looked down at the spot on his chest that the healer touched only to see a marking of a bunch of black withering roses tattooed on to the red flesh of his chest. It was dark and pigmented like a warning of sorts. It felt evil, empty but most of all it felt like death.

Miroku's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the marking before he looked up at the healer. "I have never seen that before in my life." He responded sharply before clearing his throat. The healer didn't say anything instead he let his eyes linger on the monks in comfort before he slowly pats the monk's shoulder. As sure as Miroku was that the healer meant well the action annoyed him.

He hated empty gestures, but what else could be expected from the healer that traveled with a bunch of demons who preferred solidarity to socialization. Still, he knew the sympathy expressed in his eyes were related to the tattoo etched into his skin. Withered roses could never mean something good, but still, he had never seen something similar to that.

Subconsciously his hand reached up and touched the marking. Hoping that if he touched it he would understand it, instead, a warmth spread throughout his body, easing his tensed nerves, and filling his nostrils with the sweet cherry smell of…

Miroku's eyes flew open but, he hadn't even realized when he closed them. He was losing his mind. He had to be otherwise what else could explain that smell or the energy that coursed through his veins like a wild flame. It wasn't his own. He knew and understood that.

It's his.

It was Gaara's. Everything about it screamed to every one of his nerves. It clawed at his flesh and made him uneasy. It made him anxious. It made him…

"Get out…" Miroku spoke, his voice was barely audible and rough from the dryness of his throat.

"Miroku, it is nothing to be ashamed of. It is perfectly natural-" Forte began as he reached out to take a hold of Miroku's hand. He immediately pulled away instead of giving the healer a deadly glare.

" Shut your mouth! I said to get out, so leave!" Miroku snapped. Forte lips gaped open for a moment before he slowly closed his lips. Forte nodded slowly before he too stood from his spot on the bed.

" Alright, sir Miroku, I understand." He responded before he picked up the bag he had entered with and made his way over to the door. He stopped just before swinging it open and kept his back towards Miroku. "But...you will have to face this issue eventually and unfortunately your body is a biological clock working against you. So you don't have much time." Forte didn't linger after he spoke. He quickly exited, leaving Miroku to the silence.

my body… is working against me? Miroku let his head fall into his hand. The healer could not have been any more right. There was no way he could last like this. He had to tell his pack there was no other option.

A/N: I thought this chapter would be a lot harder to write especially since I wrote chapter 38 first but it actually flowed and came to me very easily so I am very excited about that. I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to show you guys more. I love you guys and please RR ~Love Nana