Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this long-awaited update... especially for the one who gets lost in books. Or scrolls. Probably even tomes. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

Collections and Connections

Early March...

Once the weather cleared, Miroku was only too glad to return to work. "Are you sure you do not mind the early start?" he checked.

"It's fine," Souta assured. "I can lend a hand to the guys in Dr. Barrow's practicum, then grab second breakfast with them in the cafeteria."

"Is that not unusual, arriving so early?"

"Not exactly. It's lambing season." Souta laced into his boots and shouldered his bag. "They've been sleeping in shifts because everyone in their class is supposed to deliver two lambs. But the ewes are sneaky and drop them in out-of-the-way corners."

Miroku laughed. "A challenge! Sounds fun."

"Does it? Well, then, Sensei. You're welcome to join me in our barn tonight."

It only took a moment to catch on. "The goats?"

"What's good for the ewe goes double for the nanny!" Souta quipped. "I'm pretty sure Gasket is carrying twins."

The campus was hushed when Miroku pulled up in front of the long row of low barns. "Have a good day."

"Don't forget." Souta bent to lean back into the car. "It's Scrabble Night. And Sis is bringing friends."

"Once I am in the library, I will forget." Miroku held up a finger, pulled out his phone, and promised, "I am setting an alarm."

"You'll hear it this time?"

Souta had good reason for concern.

Miroku smiled apologetically. "I promise to try to tear myself away."

"And I promise to hotwire your car if you're late."

"Can you do that?"

Souta snorted. "I've been tinkering with engines since I was tiny. And I don't want to miss out. Scrabble's extra interesting whenever Shippo and Inuyasha are over."

Miroku displayed his phone. "Alarm set. And you know my number."

With a small salute, Souta slammed the door and strode away. A short drive along a road that meandered past a lake brought Miroku to the lot behind Acclamation Hall. The sun wasn't even up yet, and his first lecture wasn't until third period. He had hours.

Steps light, he went directly to the library.

Ever since adding his signature and seal to Sesshoumaru's contract, Miroku had been spending all his spare time in the locked-up library. Some of his reading was a set course, intended to fill in the sizeable gaps in his knowledge. But he found the discourses on reiki use … dry.

So he stole these early morning hours, losing himself in old scrolls with beautiful calligraphy and in more recent descriptions of youkai culture.

Foxes. Dogs. Tanuki. Dragons.

Time passed too quickly. His mornings. His lunch breaks. His evenings. His weekends. It was coming to the point that he was glad Sesshoumaru wouldn't be renewing his contract. Miroku might love teaching, but he was ready to become a student again.

Life as Sesshoumaru's retainer might have its risks, but the inu-youkai seemed serious about grooming him. Already, Miroku had met with three different reiki-users.

Kaede was gruff, but she was an experienced mentor who was willing to help Miroku unlock his potential … once she finished what promised to be a lengthy assessment phase.

Totosai was a trifle eccentric, but his expertise with youkai weapons was intriguing. Sesshoumaru had hinted that Miroku could learn to defend himself. He wanted to arm himself as well.

Mushin was … difficult to quantify. He was a monk himself, and he'd rambled on about ofuda, spell scrolls, and barriers. All things he could remember his grandfather talking about. Miroku could only hope that during their next lesson, Mushin was actually sober.

Miroku had hoped for more feedback after those initial sessions. Maybe a hint about his aptitudes. Or a syllabus for him to peruse. But all three of his new tutors reported to Sesshoumaru. Not to him.

Miroku was confident in his ability to wheedle his way around any obstacle. Or at the very least, to gain ground on the strength of personal study. It would work out. And once he understood his inheritance, he could use it to protect his friends.

Miroku blinked slowly and eased his hips forward on the sofa. The late afternoon sun slanting through the windows was making him warm and sleepy.

"Do you allow your students to drowse through your lectures?"

"Pardon my rudeness." Miroku sat up and rubbed the side of his face. "I had an early start today, and your office is so comfortable."

Sesshoumaru quirked a skeptical brow.

He tried to explain. "I feel safe in here. Something about the atmosphere puts me at ease."

"Unusual. But not unheard of."

That piqued Miroku's interest. "In what sense?"

Sesshoumaru frowned slightly. "You are my retainer. I am your protector."

"A contract can have that sort of effect?" Miroku had read the thing carefully, but he hadn't taken into account anything less tangible. "Or was it the verbal agreement?"

"I could not say for certain." Picking his words with exaggerated care, Sesshoumaru answered, "However, when both parties enter into an agreement with the necessary resolve … yes. There are consequences."

Miroku got the distinct impression that the upshot was unintended. Possibly even embarrassing.

Apparently, his new boss didn't want him feeling calm and cozy. Yet here they were.

"Speaking of contracts! In the old scrolls, I found all kinds of titles that were used to denote respect for one's youkai benefactor."

There had also been several euphemisms and slurs for those who entered service, but Miroku hoped they were outdated.

"What sorts of scrolls?" Sesshoumaru asked sharply.

"Oh, I don't recall specifically. I've been browsing." Miroku leaned forward. "What's your fancy? Lord? Master? Boss?"

He huffed. "That is not what I will require from you."

"But you will require something?"

Rising, Sesshoumaru strolled around the desk in order to loom over Miroku's chair. "Hnn. I will."

According to the materials Miroku had read so far, a show of dominance needn't be interpreted as a threat. But Sesshoumaru was asserting his traditional role. The lord being higher than his retainer.

Showing his palms, Miroku asked, "What can I possibly offer?"

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes and huffed again. "You cannot merely glean freely from my collection. Anyone who takes must learn to give."

Miroku could only repeat, "What can I possibly offer?"

"Add to the collection."

"I do have a few scrolls that were handed down."

"Hnn?" Interest flickered in Sesshoumaru's gaze, but he waved a hand. "I am willing to assess them, and if they have merit, we could discuss purchase … or a loan … or a bequest. But no. For now, tell me of your history. What stories of your lineage have been handed down?"

"I may know a tale or two about my ancestors' exploits." Miroku felt he was in a position to barter. "I'll spin out one of them if you'll let me see you while I do."

"Why?"

Miroku let his gaze slide to the side, trying to see Sesshoumaru's true form out of his periphery. "Because you are here, and you are real. I like looking at you."

His attention snagged on the cuff of Sesshoumaru's shirt. Was that a peep of color? Miroku slid a finger under the cloth, lifting it away.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Miroku shook his head in wonder. "How is it that nobody has noticed that you are … you."

Sesshoumaru straightened, firmly tugging his cuff into place. "Most people have the good sense to avoid me."

"Ah, yes. It must be a trial, taking on a retainer with so little knowledge. I appreciate the tutors you arranged, but wouldn't it be more effective to train me personally? What better way to cultivate the most useful traits?"

"Hnn." Sesshoumaru returned to his chair, but his expression wasn't quite so foreboding.

"You could teach me, yes?"

"If you are not completely hopeless."

Was he … pleased to be asked? Perhaps a little discreet ego-stroking would keep the peace.

Sesshoumaru tipped his head to one side, his gaze assessing. "You will present yourself here during your lunch hour—Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I will require your Sundays."

"You want me here on Sundays?"

"No. I have a private residence. You will be there on Sundays, no later than 11:00 AM."

"For brunch?" Miroku asked lightly.

"For training." Sesshoumaru let his disguise fall and flicked a clawed hand. "Now. Begin your story."

Souta was definitely showing off when he had the car warmed up and waiting by the time Miroku exited Acclamation Hall.

"Should I be concerned about future felonies?" Miroku teased.

"You're late," Souta countered. "Can I drive?"

"By all means." Sliding into the passenger's seat, he said, "I apologize. My meeting with Dr. Saiga went long."

"It's fine. I got my reading done."

For most of the drive home, Miroku quizzed him on the journal articles he'd assigned.

"Oh. Almost forgot. Mind if we make a quick stop?" Souta hit the turn signal and pulled into the parking lot of Archer's lone liquor store. "Gramps wants us to bring home a big bottle of rice wine. Your choice. Mom says he's dusting off the sake cups in preparation."

"Ah. A man after my own heart."

And so Miroku was anticipating a pleasantly tipsy evening with friends when he and Souta strolled into the Higurashi's kitchen. He was not anticipating Inuyasha hustling him right back out the door and pinning him to the wall.

"Why do you smell like Sesshoumaru?" he growled. Literally growled. In that whole not-human way that probably should have been intimidating.

Miroku couldn't have been more delighted. "I realize we have met, but perhaps not properly. Really, this is an unparalleled pleasure."

"You say that now," grumbled Inuyasha, who peeled off Miroku's gloves, sniffed his palms, and definitely stole a lick. "Did he touch you?"

"I would say he prefers looming." And since it seemed to be important to Inuyasha, he admitted, "I did hug him before leaving."

Inuyasha gaped. "He … hugs?"

"I think not. He was as shocked as you look." Lowering his voice, Miroku added, "Alas, my hug was entirely unreciprocated."

"How are you still alive?" Then shaking his head, Inuyasha asked, "How do you even know the bastard?"

"Dr. Saiga is a dean at Dominion University, where I work. I came here straight from his office. And that unrequited hug." Wanting to calm Inuyasha further, Miroku kept talking. "We had a meeting. All very harmless. Quite amicable, really."

"You work there. With him."

"That is correct." Trying to inject a little humor into the impasse, he added, "Dr. Saiga must have decided I am a troublemaker. I am called into his office with shocking regularity."

Inuyasha's grip loosened, and he seemed to have realized that he was growling, because it tapered away. "You feeling okay? He didn't hurt you? Aw, hells. Did I hurt you?"

"I feel quite well, and I am looking forward to the evening." Miroku angled his face, trying to get a better look at the ears pricking in his periphery. "May I ask why you are so concerned?"

"Last time Sesshoumaru got close to someone I care about, he poisoned them."

Miroku frowned. "Why on earth would he do that?"

"Because my brother's a fucking bastard."

End Note: Posted on April 23, 2021. 1,863 words. Thanks to everyone who dropped by my KO – FI account today. I enjoyed hanging out. See you next month!