Lost But Not Forgotten
Chapter 5: On the Other Side of the Valley
Sango-sama
Disclaimer: I do own Miroku. He is tied to chair in my room. Ppbbbbthh! And Inuyasha is certainly not owned by Rumiko Takahashi, being that she is a multimillionaire and I am not. -_- ::goes off to pout::
Author's Notes: ARGGGGHHHHH!!! I have typed this damn thing nearly six times. MS Word keeps exploding!!!!! My cable modem keeps dying! So please excuse some of the spelling errors that might pop up. -_- I'm a bit stressed.
On a happier note, I'm really appreciative of the reviews I received for this last chapter. I love to see new readers and always appreciate the ones who have been around for a while. By the way, in case you haven't noticed, I truly do enjoy stirring up trouble. ^_^ Expect a lot more!
By request from Aino-kaachan, this chapter has been revised and is quite a bit longer...more plot and characters are revealed! ^_^
************************************************************************
Two days earlier...
He found himself in a rather obscure farming village, just a short ways up the rocky slope. Hiraikotsu was strung to his back The view of the valley below was picturesque, a bubbling brook snaking a path through the emerald grasses that covered the hilly plain.
Miroku sighed, crossing his eyes in sheer annoyance. If only the view up here were nearly so...pleasant.
"Ahhhh, Houshi-sama!" A rather portly girl grasped his arm tightly. "There's a scary youkai that's been plaguing my hut. You must come and take a look."
He raised an eyebrow. There sure as hell weren't any youkai auras in or even near the village.
"And perhaps then you could enlighten us, Houshi-sama." Feeling thin fingers tugging at the fabric of his purple outer robe, he turned his head, only to meet with sharp, beady eyes. "What do you men of the cloth wear beneath those robes?"
Miroku struggled not to roll his eyes. It really was just his luck--or perhaps a touch of karmic retribution; a village full of incredibly lecherous women and not a decent looking one among them. It became increasingly difficult to ignore the women as they began using his arms to play tug-o-war.
"Don't you people have better things to do? I'm quite sure those crops don't harvest themselves." A woman stood further up the path, balled fists resting at her hips, her short auburn tresses being tossed about by the light breeze. "Honestly, you all should be ashamed..."
A rather reluctant "Hai" was muttered in chorus and with shrugs and sighs, the lecherous band of females detached themselves from Miroku's robes and arms to return to the terraced fields.
For his part, Miroku simply gazed at the woman's profile as she watched the girls leave, prepared to reprimand them again, if need be. He felt a vague, lingering sense of familiarity.
Turning to meet his eyes, she whispered conspiratorally, . "You'll have to forgive them; they haven't seen an available man in years."
He chuckled lightly. "I must assume then, from your reservation, that you are taken."
"Naturally," she grinned. "My husband would be quite put off if I were nearly so loose with any man who walked into the village. Even one who came wandering in with my Aunt's weapon."
'Her Aunt?' Miroku frowned, hiw brows furrowing in confusion.
She drew closer, bring a finger up to inspecting the large crack which nearly ran the whole length of the weapon. "It's in very bad repair. This is Hiraikotsu, isn't it?" Her voice dropped an octave, taking on a decidedly more threatening tone. "How did you come by it?" Eyes narrowed, she tightened her grip on the wooden handle which emerged from the folds of her skirt, bringing the hidden steel blade just into view.
"I've come to have it repaired, actually." Miroku closed his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. "It's owner was rather badly injured, and the Miko who is taking care of her said I might find a smithy here who is good with unusual weaponry..."
Her steel gaze softened slightly. "Follow me."
************************************************************************
A sharp blast of heat met the Houshi's face, as soon as he and the woman walked though the door. Miroku drew a robed arm up before his face, his eyes barely peering over the black cloth; it was sweltering and a thick cloud of smoke permeated the whole room.
A man stood before the kiln, pulling a chunk of smoldering iron from the flame with a long pair of tongs and settling it atop an anvil. His sleeves and the legs of his hakuma were rolled up to lessen the intense heat.
As he had turned, the blacksmith appeared haggard; heavy bags settled beneath his eyes and beads of sweat covered his face and neck. But for as tired as he seemed, the man had been so engrossed in his work that he still had yet to notice their entrance. With one stocky arm, he had lifted a hammer above the anvil meaningfully.
"Kenrou..."
The man nearly dropped his hammer, his previously solid focus now all but lost. He stuttered, tapping the tips of his fingers together nervously as he turned towards the door. "Ah-A...Akagane."
The woman chuckled, brushing a few loose copper strands behind her ear as she walked over to stand beside him. "All this time, and even now you get so nervous, dear." She pressed her lips softly to his cheek.
Kenrou's blush deepened visable even in spite of the heat. Struggling to regain control, he spotted a robed figure in the doorway. "Ah...Houshi-sama. How can I help you today?"
Miroku unhooked the Boomerang from his back, setting it on the floor with a audible tap.
Kenrou frowned as he eyed the damage, running a trained finger along the length of the crack. "A rather unusual weapon you have here. It's fractured beside a previous repair line."
"Because of the nature of the materials, I'm afraid my friend had to repair it on her own. It was fixed only a month ago, but the edge was sharpened since then..." Miroku trailed off.
"On her own?" Akagane frowned, placing the darkening metal into the water bath to cool. "Didn't someone in the village help her?"
Miroku bowed his head reverently. "I'm afraid that my friend and her brother were the only two surviving, aside from you, Akagane-san."
"Only two...surviving..." she repeated in disbelief. The tongs and the metal both clattered to the bottom of the water bucket, as she fell ungracefully onto her knees on the floor. A hiss of steam rose up from the water's surface almost immediately.
With surprising speed, Kenrou was kneeling beside her on the floor. All his thoughts of embarrassment were pushed aside as he pulled her into his arms and ran his fingers along her back comfortingly. Her tears soaked the blue fabric at his shoulder, giving in to pained murmurs. "Otou-san...Kaa-san..."
Miroku felt the sharp pangs of guilt. So many of them had lost loved ones, and all at the malevolent hands of Naraku. His fist tightening its grip on the beads sealing his curse. "It was a taiyoukai who set the betrayal in motion. He used Sango's brother to kill the extermintaing party and then sent minions to kill the remaining villagers. All of that death just for the sake of one Shinkon shard...." His jaw clenched tightly, "I saw to it myself that everyone was buried properly."
Akagane, still clearly in shock, managed to nod numbly. Kenrou released his grip slightly. She straightened herself, brushing away the tears that remained. She too, had been a warrior, her strength tangible when she finally spoke.
"I want to see my cousin."
Miroku nodded, allowing a small smile. "I will be returning when her weapon is repaired and her clothes are mended."
"Kenrou."
"Yes," his voice squeaked slightly. "I can have it fully repaired in half a day....but I will need the raw materials."
"Fine." Akagane stalked towards the doorway, her hand removing the kama* from its place at her side, the blue flicker of a battle aura completely emcompassing her. "I will be back in three hours."
Miroku and Kenrou found themselves unable to do anything but watch as she left. There is something about a female warrior's battle aura that screams 'Stay the Hell out of my way, unless you like to lose something...important...'
Kenrou smiled awkardly at the other man. "I suppose you'll be needing a needle and thread then."
"I suppose..."
************************************************************************
With the passage of two days, they both found themselves traipsing up the dirt path that led up the mountain side that lay on the other side of the valley, laden with repaired parcels, a metal clinking echoing their steps. For the past few miles, Akagane had been recounting humorous old stories to keep themselves amused on their journey.
"I remember when the little ones in the village would pick on the girls, she would chase them all away and then pummel all the ones she's manage to catch." Her eyes were still sad and distant, but she couldn't conceal her smile, bringing a hand up to her lips to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. "I can't ever remember the boys ever running so fast as the time when they put a snake in one of the younger girl's hair."
The man laughed loudly, his lavender eyes shining with mirth. "Somehow, I can just picture that, Akagane-san..."
As his laugh subsided, a beaded hand was rather absently lifted to his cheek, imaging that those fingers were tracing over the rather inauspicious red hand mark that was usually plastered to his face.
The action had not gone unnoticed, but although she was curious, she kept quiet, smiling softly. 'I can always ask my dear little cousin about it later.'
"Ah! There he is!"
Both travelers looked up to see two teenage girls in Miko garb came running down the path.
"Houshi-sama, come quickly!"
"She's awake!"
************************************************************************
*Kama: This weapon is much like Kohaku's except without the chain. In fact, Kohaku's weapon is called the kusara kama. A standard kama has the sickle-like blade and some sort of handle, either metal or wood.
Chapter 5: On the Other Side of the Valley
Sango-sama
Disclaimer: I do own Miroku. He is tied to chair in my room. Ppbbbbthh! And Inuyasha is certainly not owned by Rumiko Takahashi, being that she is a multimillionaire and I am not. -_- ::goes off to pout::
Author's Notes: ARGGGGHHHHH!!! I have typed this damn thing nearly six times. MS Word keeps exploding!!!!! My cable modem keeps dying! So please excuse some of the spelling errors that might pop up. -_- I'm a bit stressed.
On a happier note, I'm really appreciative of the reviews I received for this last chapter. I love to see new readers and always appreciate the ones who have been around for a while. By the way, in case you haven't noticed, I truly do enjoy stirring up trouble. ^_^ Expect a lot more!
By request from Aino-kaachan, this chapter has been revised and is quite a bit longer...more plot and characters are revealed! ^_^
************************************************************************
Two days earlier...
He found himself in a rather obscure farming village, just a short ways up the rocky slope. Hiraikotsu was strung to his back The view of the valley below was picturesque, a bubbling brook snaking a path through the emerald grasses that covered the hilly plain.
Miroku sighed, crossing his eyes in sheer annoyance. If only the view up here were nearly so...pleasant.
"Ahhhh, Houshi-sama!" A rather portly girl grasped his arm tightly. "There's a scary youkai that's been plaguing my hut. You must come and take a look."
He raised an eyebrow. There sure as hell weren't any youkai auras in or even near the village.
"And perhaps then you could enlighten us, Houshi-sama." Feeling thin fingers tugging at the fabric of his purple outer robe, he turned his head, only to meet with sharp, beady eyes. "What do you men of the cloth wear beneath those robes?"
Miroku struggled not to roll his eyes. It really was just his luck--or perhaps a touch of karmic retribution; a village full of incredibly lecherous women and not a decent looking one among them. It became increasingly difficult to ignore the women as they began using his arms to play tug-o-war.
"Don't you people have better things to do? I'm quite sure those crops don't harvest themselves." A woman stood further up the path, balled fists resting at her hips, her short auburn tresses being tossed about by the light breeze. "Honestly, you all should be ashamed..."
A rather reluctant "Hai" was muttered in chorus and with shrugs and sighs, the lecherous band of females detached themselves from Miroku's robes and arms to return to the terraced fields.
For his part, Miroku simply gazed at the woman's profile as she watched the girls leave, prepared to reprimand them again, if need be. He felt a vague, lingering sense of familiarity.
Turning to meet his eyes, she whispered conspiratorally, . "You'll have to forgive them; they haven't seen an available man in years."
He chuckled lightly. "I must assume then, from your reservation, that you are taken."
"Naturally," she grinned. "My husband would be quite put off if I were nearly so loose with any man who walked into the village. Even one who came wandering in with my Aunt's weapon."
'Her Aunt?' Miroku frowned, hiw brows furrowing in confusion.
She drew closer, bring a finger up to inspecting the large crack which nearly ran the whole length of the weapon. "It's in very bad repair. This is Hiraikotsu, isn't it?" Her voice dropped an octave, taking on a decidedly more threatening tone. "How did you come by it?" Eyes narrowed, she tightened her grip on the wooden handle which emerged from the folds of her skirt, bringing the hidden steel blade just into view.
"I've come to have it repaired, actually." Miroku closed his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. "It's owner was rather badly injured, and the Miko who is taking care of her said I might find a smithy here who is good with unusual weaponry..."
Her steel gaze softened slightly. "Follow me."
************************************************************************
A sharp blast of heat met the Houshi's face, as soon as he and the woman walked though the door. Miroku drew a robed arm up before his face, his eyes barely peering over the black cloth; it was sweltering and a thick cloud of smoke permeated the whole room.
A man stood before the kiln, pulling a chunk of smoldering iron from the flame with a long pair of tongs and settling it atop an anvil. His sleeves and the legs of his hakuma were rolled up to lessen the intense heat.
As he had turned, the blacksmith appeared haggard; heavy bags settled beneath his eyes and beads of sweat covered his face and neck. But for as tired as he seemed, the man had been so engrossed in his work that he still had yet to notice their entrance. With one stocky arm, he had lifted a hammer above the anvil meaningfully.
"Kenrou..."
The man nearly dropped his hammer, his previously solid focus now all but lost. He stuttered, tapping the tips of his fingers together nervously as he turned towards the door. "Ah-A...Akagane."
The woman chuckled, brushing a few loose copper strands behind her ear as she walked over to stand beside him. "All this time, and even now you get so nervous, dear." She pressed her lips softly to his cheek.
Kenrou's blush deepened visable even in spite of the heat. Struggling to regain control, he spotted a robed figure in the doorway. "Ah...Houshi-sama. How can I help you today?"
Miroku unhooked the Boomerang from his back, setting it on the floor with a audible tap.
Kenrou frowned as he eyed the damage, running a trained finger along the length of the crack. "A rather unusual weapon you have here. It's fractured beside a previous repair line."
"Because of the nature of the materials, I'm afraid my friend had to repair it on her own. It was fixed only a month ago, but the edge was sharpened since then..." Miroku trailed off.
"On her own?" Akagane frowned, placing the darkening metal into the water bath to cool. "Didn't someone in the village help her?"
Miroku bowed his head reverently. "I'm afraid that my friend and her brother were the only two surviving, aside from you, Akagane-san."
"Only two...surviving..." she repeated in disbelief. The tongs and the metal both clattered to the bottom of the water bucket, as she fell ungracefully onto her knees on the floor. A hiss of steam rose up from the water's surface almost immediately.
With surprising speed, Kenrou was kneeling beside her on the floor. All his thoughts of embarrassment were pushed aside as he pulled her into his arms and ran his fingers along her back comfortingly. Her tears soaked the blue fabric at his shoulder, giving in to pained murmurs. "Otou-san...Kaa-san..."
Miroku felt the sharp pangs of guilt. So many of them had lost loved ones, and all at the malevolent hands of Naraku. His fist tightening its grip on the beads sealing his curse. "It was a taiyoukai who set the betrayal in motion. He used Sango's brother to kill the extermintaing party and then sent minions to kill the remaining villagers. All of that death just for the sake of one Shinkon shard...." His jaw clenched tightly, "I saw to it myself that everyone was buried properly."
Akagane, still clearly in shock, managed to nod numbly. Kenrou released his grip slightly. She straightened herself, brushing away the tears that remained. She too, had been a warrior, her strength tangible when she finally spoke.
"I want to see my cousin."
Miroku nodded, allowing a small smile. "I will be returning when her weapon is repaired and her clothes are mended."
"Kenrou."
"Yes," his voice squeaked slightly. "I can have it fully repaired in half a day....but I will need the raw materials."
"Fine." Akagane stalked towards the doorway, her hand removing the kama* from its place at her side, the blue flicker of a battle aura completely emcompassing her. "I will be back in three hours."
Miroku and Kenrou found themselves unable to do anything but watch as she left. There is something about a female warrior's battle aura that screams 'Stay the Hell out of my way, unless you like to lose something...important...'
Kenrou smiled awkardly at the other man. "I suppose you'll be needing a needle and thread then."
"I suppose..."
************************************************************************
With the passage of two days, they both found themselves traipsing up the dirt path that led up the mountain side that lay on the other side of the valley, laden with repaired parcels, a metal clinking echoing their steps. For the past few miles, Akagane had been recounting humorous old stories to keep themselves amused on their journey.
"I remember when the little ones in the village would pick on the girls, she would chase them all away and then pummel all the ones she's manage to catch." Her eyes were still sad and distant, but she couldn't conceal her smile, bringing a hand up to her lips to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. "I can't ever remember the boys ever running so fast as the time when they put a snake in one of the younger girl's hair."
The man laughed loudly, his lavender eyes shining with mirth. "Somehow, I can just picture that, Akagane-san..."
As his laugh subsided, a beaded hand was rather absently lifted to his cheek, imaging that those fingers were tracing over the rather inauspicious red hand mark that was usually plastered to his face.
The action had not gone unnoticed, but although she was curious, she kept quiet, smiling softly. 'I can always ask my dear little cousin about it later.'
"Ah! There he is!"
Both travelers looked up to see two teenage girls in Miko garb came running down the path.
"Houshi-sama, come quickly!"
"She's awake!"
************************************************************************
*Kama: This weapon is much like Kohaku's except without the chain. In fact, Kohaku's weapon is called the kusara kama. A standard kama has the sickle-like blade and some sort of handle, either metal or wood.