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.

Cute Little Conniver

Sesshoumaru gave no indication that he was ready to leave, so Miroku did what he always did when visiting Mushin. Binding back his full sleeves, he set to work unearthing the elderly man from his own rubbish.

Memories of his last visit haunted him. He'd been with the others, then, and he longed for their voices, their company. But the only voice that carried through the echoing halls was Mushin's.

He rambled on, probably too drunk to realize that his audience was a demon.

That's when Miroku caught a few lines of what Mushin was saying.

"…so thoroughly convinced that a spook inhabited the toilet, we had to keep him in diapers to spare the sheets, right up until he turned…"

Miroku stomped into the room, hauled Mushin to his feet, and steered him none-to-gently to his futon for a nap. "Why say such things to Sesshoumaru-sama?"

Mushin blinked blearily. "He was interested."

"In my toilet training?"

"In you." He smiled indulgently. "Such a cute little conniver."

Miroku doubted Mushin had many lucid memories of those years. He'd probably favored Sesshoumaru with skewed tales and outright libel.

Returning to the porch where Sesshoumaru sat sipping tea, Miroku demanded, "What did he tell you about me?"

A shoulder lifted. "Nothing of consequence."

"Mushin is not a reliable source of information. You cannot believe everything he says."

Setting aside his cup, Sesshoumaru rose. "You are a rogue and a cheat and a charmer of women."

Miroku gaped.

"You could drink a man under the table at eight. Pick his pockets with a kitsune's skill by ten."

He hesitated. "There were circumstances."

Sesshoumaru smoothly continued, "He believes your line is susceptible to dangerous beauties. My intentions toward you were called into question."

Miroku was speechless.

Sidling closer, Sesshoumaru inquired, "Are you angry with me?"

Miroku's jaw worked. "I will be if you take his word over mine."

"Can you deny that your grandfather attempted to seduce Naraku?"

"There were circumstances."

"Do you deny sampling liquor while a child?"

"I did acquire a taste for it rather early."

Sesshoumaru's eyes glittered. "Why are you angry?"

"I am not."

"Listen to your lord."

The sudden shift in tone startled Miroku and stiffened his spine.

"That monk's words mean less than nothing. But scent never lies." With absolute assurance that his nose knew the truth, Sesshoumaru said, "You are angry. And he is proud of you."

End Note: This chapter was helped along by a prompt from Aviva, who contributed the word "libel" over on my Ko-fi account, where I'm currently hosting a fandom event. I'm also ticking off a prompt from a table I procured (ages ago) from the Live Journal community iy no kakera, where I hold a claim on Sesshoumaru & Miroku. Set #2, Theme #44, The Elderly Man. 400 words, originally posted on March 27, 2021.