Paradigm Shift

Chapter Seventeen: Shift

… … …

Kagome's world was full of the most wonderful smell. She inhaled it deeply, trying and failing to identify it. It smelled so good, though, and she was so warm and comfortable.

She snuggled down into the warm body.

'Wait. Body? Miroku!'

She pried her eyes open and was met with the sight of a long, tanned neck; stretched out from where Miroku's head was still resting against the stone behind him where he had relaxed last night.

She had apparently turned in her sleep, propped up against one of his shoulders with her side curled into him and her legs hanging over his lap. His right arm was laying over her knees with his hand hanging limply over her left thigh.

Her left arm was curled between them... and she didn't want to think of where her right arm was… precariously situated underneath of her. Where she really needed to remove it from. Carefully. Before her forearm or elbow hit something very embarrassing.

So she shifted slowly, dragging her arm out of his lap under her, so slowly, and sagged when she had freed it. Now to escape the arm over her knees and the arm wrapped around her back, his hand tucked between her right hip and his leg.

She knew she had settled on the wrong escape strategy when she scooted down flat, intending to roll out from under his arms and then stand. She wondered if there would have been any realistic way to get away when she felt the sigh and the arm across her knees slide down her legs.

Kagome held her breath, trying not to move so that she wouldn't rouse Miroku any further from sleep. When his breathing evened out again, she grabbed his hand and pulled it up above her abdomen, settling to flat against his own body. She rolled onto her left side, shouldering his other hand out from under her back and bracing herself on one elbow as she tried to sneak away.

She was jerked harshly away from freedom by his hand splayed over her middle, dragging her back into him.

As Miroku's fingers found their way under the hem of her shirt and onto her sensitive waist, she blew a frustrated gust of air into Miroku's knee.

She tried to pull away again but his hold on her was firm. His hand started to move over her side; his fingers brushing the strap of her bra under her arm, and she pushed at his wrist as she struggled to sit up.

That same firm pressure turned her onto her back in his lap and she was shocked to see his fully alert eyes on her. He wasn't smiling or smirking or laughing.

He couldn't. This was real, this was serious, and he knew that she knew and he couldn't stand it if she convinced herself that she was imagining it.

So he watched her as he pressed his advantage, drank in everything about her just in case she pushed him away or told him to stop. Because he wanted this. Wanted her. Wanted everything about her to stay right here in his arms and be his.

He wanted to know how her smile felt when it was pressed into his. Wanted her to know how it sent him into bliss when her aura touched his. Wanted to see her surrender and let him keep her.

He was ghosting his fingertips down her ribs. The light touch coupled with that look he was giving her froze her movements. She couldn't tear her eyes from his.

His fingers kept going as he watched her. His eyes darkened, his lips parted, and a loose lock of hair fluttered in the soft breeze by his lowered head. His touch caressed its way around her navel and she clenched, making his fingers and her skin break apart for a moment before he flattened that hand against her.

He wasn't ready to let her go yet and he was glad when she accepted his touch, pressing into her stomach to calm her, beg her not to leave yet.

His other hand came around, his bicep flexing against her neck as he bent slightly and that hand grabbed a handful of her shirt. He pulled it up, inch by inch, exposing his hand on her midsection. The sight of him touching her so intimately and the knowledge that he was being so forward; not asleep, not even close, it made her head fall back to expose her throat.

He was almost overwhelmed at the movement, at the sight of that smooth skin laid out for him. He wanted to know what it tasted like, what she would do if he slid his lips over her beautiful neck.

Her back arched minutely as the hand that had been tugging at her shirt found its way to her bare neck. The feel of its weight there and the contrast of his heat and the cool air made her gasp.

He groaned at the sound of her gasp, feeling his eyes dilate as he took in every second of this. He might never get to have her like this again, heaving and accepting and just feeling his touch.

He scraped his short nails lightly over her throat and hooked his fingertips into the waistband of her jeans, tugging them away from her skin gently as he moved his knuckles over her from one side to the other and back again. She was very aware of how close the tips of his fingers were to the elastic band that held her undergarments in place.

Never once breaking eye contact with her, he brought that maddening, wonderful, right hand to her face, rubbing his fingers over her lips.

He knew that he needed to let her mind catch up to her body. He needed to let her make her choices and decisions without him leading her into the oblivion that could come with pleasure.

"Good morning, Kagome." His voice was impossibly deep and rough, thick with his obvious arousal at her reactions. Knowing that she had seen his intent. Knowing that she hadn't pushed him away. Feeling how she had responded to him.

Disappointment ran through him as she took the opportunity to sit up and climb from his lap, stealing the heat of her away from him. He let her go, rubbing his palms frantically against the fabric over his own legs.

Kagome stood there, just a few steps away with her back to him. Her nails found their way to the outside seams of her jeans and picked at them as she tried desperately to form a thought. She was consumed by that heat that she had felt only a few times. It pooled in her and she squeezed her thighs together; the pants were suddenly too tight and her underwear were uncomfortable and sodden with that heat.

So maybe she had been right. He had just shown her exactly how interested he really was.

She tried and failed to force down her soft moan as she felt Miroku's hands find their way between her elbows and sides, pushing her backward but not forcing her to move; just asking if she would. She took that step back and into his embrace voluntarily.

"Are you alright, Kagome?"

She definitely noticed that he wasn't apologizing or offering platitudes and excuses for his behavior. When she closed her eyes again, his own swam before her; burned into her memory. Inescapable.

She smoothed her shaking hands over the arms around her and nodded slowly.

Then his lips were on her neck in a gentle kiss and his breath was on her ear and then his hair was against her cheek as he leaned around her. There was another gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth and that deep, rough voice so close to her.

"Good girl." And caught up in the rush that went through her with those two words, words that he had used before and in such a different way, she almost lost herself.

But he was pulling away from her, his arms and hands barely lingering as he did.

When she turned, incredulous, he had retrieved his shakujo and slung her much depleted lavender bag over his shoulder, walking away from her; down the western trail that was supposed to carry them to Atsuta Shrine.

Kagome stood there for a while. Stood there until it registered in her mind that he was far enough down the path that he was going to be out of her sight when he rounded the curve ahead. She jogged across the distance to his side, still not able to really hold on to any one thought, and stared at the side of his face.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and felt them redden as she blushed, but she looked ahead as well and they walked.

… … …

The heated encounter wasn't mentioned as they made their way to the shrine. Eventually, Kagome relaxed and was asking Miroku questions about what reiki training consisted of.

"I'm not entirely sure what you'll be doing to train. My own training was scattered and unconventional."

"What do you mean?"

He smiled at her with a far-off look on his face as he took her hand to help her step over a trickle of running water. If their hands lingered for a little while longer than was strictly needed, then they didn't mention it.

"When I was seven, my father took me to the place that he trained as a child. My grandfather had taken him at the same age. It's important for the men in my line to learn reiki control early."

"Because of the curse?"

Miroku's hand tightened around his staff and he nodded tightly.

"Yes. We traveled into China, to a shaolin temple. There, I learned the basics of reiki awareness and manipulation. I also learned how to fight; obviously something that I would need in my family's search for Naraku."

He grimaced at the dirt path before continuing.

"It was never my intent or my father's intent for me to become emersed in the shaolin lifestyle or beliefs. I wasn't tempted by it anyway. My family has been Soto-Zen for as far back as we can trace, and our temple has been passed down through the generations. I never could bring myself to give up the shaolin training pants."

She laughed and blushed at the winning smile and waggling eyebrows he directed at her as he stuck one leg out from under his robes.

"They do look like they'd be more comfortable for constant travel than…well… nothing." Kagome agreed.

"Oh, they are. These used to be black, I'll have you know."

Kagome eyed the grey fabric.

"How long have you had those!?"

"Since I finished my training in China and came back home. I was fifteen when we returned to our temple here in Japan, and sixteen when my father was taken by the curse."

Kagome was brought up short when it came to her that she didn't know how old Miroku was. She stopped in the middle of the widening trail, staring at his back with her head tilted to the side. She wracked her brian, trying to remember any time that the subject might have come up, but she couldn't think of a single instance. She didn't even know when his birthday was!

"Miroku!"

He startled and turned, fixing her with his wide violet eyes.

"Yes?"

"How old are you!?"

He laughed as he turned back around and waved her forward again. Once they were side-by-side again, and walking together, he put his arm around Kagome's shoulders and drew her into his side.

"It had been two years since my father's death when we met."

Kagome did the math in her head. So he was twenty-one. That wasn't so bad, just three years older than her. Maybe three and a half."

She ducked under his arm and smacked his shoulder as he laughed at her. Well, that was her intention. He had caught her hand and kissed it before letting it go when she had tried.

Miroku smirked at her blush as she spluttered, clasping her hands behind her back and rubbing the spot he had kissed with her thumb. She smiled, and it was because they could see the torii gate that marked the entrance to the shrine as they came around the last curve of the trail.

That's why she was smiling. Not at all because her hand tingled and her breath caught where he had teasingly kissed her hand and brought back memories of that morning.

"So… when's your birthday!?"

"Not far away, actually. Midsummer, just after Sanno in Edo."

"Oh! But that means you'll be here at Atsuta for your birthday. I'm sorry you'll have to miss the festival for me."

Miroku never got a chance to reply to her, though. As he opened his mouth, he found a knife under his chin. He could see Kagome in a similar predicament to his side. He held up his hands, one flat and the other holding his shakujo as always, seeing Kagome follow his lead.

The two youkai that held them immobile were female, Kagome and Miroku eyed the crescent moon marking on their wrists as the dark-haired one with Miroku spoke.

"What business does a soto-zen monk have at Atsuta Shrine?"

"And what exactly are you?" The red-haired one with Kagome added.

"Ah." Miroku laughed nervously until the knife pressed closer to his throat. It wasn't lost on him that the last time he had been at the point of a blade, it had been Sesshomaru holding the weapon; and now here he was again, with youkai that bore his crest. "Lord Sesshomaru sent us here." He faltered as he heard the low growl behind him. "For Kagome." His staff pointed to Kagome. "For training."

"This one does have Lord Sesshomaru's scent on her." The red-haired youkai said.

Miroku and Kagome were released.

"What sort of training has he sent you for?"

"Reiki control and manipulation." Miroku spoke.

The youkai glared at him and turned back to Kagome.

"Uhm. Yeah… he needs me to learn to control my reiki, like Miroku said."

"We can sense the reiki in you, and yet your dress does not indicate your station."

Kagome tried to stand as still as possible when the two youkai approached her and began sniffing at her clothing. 'They must be inuyoukai, like Sesshomaru.' She though awkwardly.

"And this soto-zen is your mate? His scent is even more heavily on you than our Lord's."

Miroku held his breath to repress the laughter trying to claw its way from him at the wide-eyes look and embarrassment written all over Kagome.

"No! I mean.. no, we travel together. With Lord Sesshomaru."

The inuyoukai gave each other a significant look as they turned to the torii and waved Miroku and Kagome on to enter the grounds.

"Scandalous." One of them said.

Kagome's blush deepened and Miroku finally laughed into his sleeve.

They were lead over the grounds of the shrine, past the gardens and other structures, and into the haiden.

… … …

Kagome had been shuffled into a room and away from Miroku once they had passed through the haiden's main hall and into the living quarters of the residents. Peroid-appropriate hakama and haiori, matching the attire of their inuyoukai escorts, were thrust at her and she was ordered to change.

She took a moment in the small room to herself, trying to shake off some of her nervous energy.

The fine silk of the clothing surprised her. She was used to seeing Kaede's miko attire, which was made from rough cotton. This bore the same design that Sesshomaru's hankimono did, It was red with the pattern of flowers in white around the neck, sleeves, and ankles.

She stubbornly refused to part with her undergarments as she changed.

When she finished, she bundled up her shirt and jeans, cradling them under her arm and holding onto her boots as she slid the screen to the side and left the room.

She was brought into yet another room and hastily made her way to sit by Miroku, across from a slender woman with greying hair.

"So Tatsuo and Seijun tell me that you have been sent here by Lord Sesshomaru for training. We have no miko amongst us, but we are competent enough to instruct you."

The tension between the three of that made it obvious that this was a formal setting, so Kagome was determined to show respect as she spoke.

"Thank you. I want to make Lord Sesshomaru proud."

The woman's eyes narrowed at Kagome and she went over her words in her mind, looking for anything she could have said to upset her.

"For Lord Sesshomaru? For him and not simply for The West?"

"Oh! Yes, of course."

"There is no of course about it, girl. If you claim loyalty to Lord Sesshomaru, himself, than much more will be expected of you. Does he give you this right?"

Kagome nodded, choosing not to dig herself any deeper by speaking again.

"Then you shall begin tomorrow morning. I am Nozomi. I keep and tend to the grounds and the shrine's buildings. I also bring news of the happenings, here at Atsuta Shrine and on its lands, to Lord Sesshomaru, myself. Know that I will be watching your progress and telling him of it while you are here."

With that, Nozomi stood and walked from the room, leaving them alone, but not before Kagome caught sight of a gray tail that trailed behind her. She turned to Miroku.

"Are they all youkai?"

"It would appear so. I was shown to the room that we will be sharing in the living quarters, and around the gardens where we will be training before they brought me here to meet Nozomi and wait for you. If there are other humans around, I haven't seen them yet."

"Where we will be training?"

Miroku gave an exasperated sigh.

"If I'm not training while I'm here with you, they consider me useless and I won't be permitted to stay while you learn."

"Oh. Sorry."

He placed his hand on top of hers on the table.

"There is no place that I would enjoy being more than here with you, Kagome."

He stood and held out his hand to her.

"I'm sure that they expect us to make our way to our room on our own, since they've already shown me where it is." He said.

One room. Kagome tried not to think of what had happened between them that morning. Or what could happen with them sharing a room. She hoped that there were separate futon rolls for them, at least.

Unfortunately for Kagome, she realized that while there were indeed two separate futon rolls, the size of the room did nothing to abate her nervousness. She was sure that if she laid on her back on the square floor and stretched her arms above her head, she would almost be able to touch the walls in either direction.

She did her best to appease her own modesty as Miroku stripped down to his shaolin pants and juban. She laid down on her futon with her head propped up on her folded modern clothing and inspecting the paneling of the walls. She had to look at him when his black monsuke settled around her. It was still warm and the smell of him invaded her world as she pulled it up to her neck.

"No sheets tonight." He told her, mischief in his eyes. "They've taken your bag to a storage room somewhere. I'm sure that you can retrieve whatever you need from it tomorrow."

Kagome rolled over to face him as he laid across from her, covered in his purple kesu.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Miroku reached over the empty space between their mats and ran his index finger over her cheek.

"No need to be nervous, Kagome. I won't attack you in your sleep."

That intense, serious look was back. This was so different from what she was used to between them and she wasn't sure how to act.

"Do…" She broke the eye contact and covered her head in his monsuke. "Should we… talk about it?" She asked. She felt a little silly and a little cowardly hiding under his clothes no less but she couldn't push the question out with him looking at her like that.

"It?" He snorted at the sight of her head bobbing beneath the heavy black fabric and scooted closer to tug it down, uncovering her red face. "It?" He repeated.

She stared up at the ceiling in refusal to resume that intense eye contact, and nodded again.

"You mean this morning when we woke up?" He asked, turning her head to where he was leaned on one hand far too close to her with his legs spread out in front of him. "You mean this?" And his top half was braced on his forearms above her, his hair hanging around his face, that look making her unable to move; unable to so much as blink.

She could feel his chest pressing into her, feel his heat, feel his right hip on top of her left as he twisted half of his body to cover her, could feel her hands on his shoulders even though she couldn't remember putting them there.

"I don't know." She told him. He smiled and moved away, laying back down and covering up again on his own futon, closing his eyes.

"That's okay too." He replied

Kagome turned back to the wall, confused and out of her depth as she tried to sleep. She could feel his eyes on her back, but she couldn't quite connect this Miroku and his advances to her friend Miroku and his playful but meaningless flirtations.

Just when she had finally broken away from Inuyasha, just when she had finally gotten Kouga to understand that she needed his friendship, but not his romantic gestures.

Miroku was supposed to be safe. Obnoxious, but safe. Steady and stable and not making her feel these things.

But she did sleep, eventually, torn between anticipation of beginning her training in the morning and remembrance of what his touch had done to her.