A/N: Hey, a very nice chica is posting this ficcy on her way-cool site. I
didn't even have to send it to her; she ASKED. ^_^ I'm very happy now and
thusly posting sooner than I'd expected.
Check out her Miroku/Sango shrine at http://mirokusango.topcities.com/. Es muy bueno, gringos. ^_~
"Shippou's Silence"
Shippou was worried.
He wasn't quite sure why, but something had been . . . wrong. Ever since yesterday, when he'd found Inu-Yasha and the others arguing outside the city gates, something had been making all of his fur stand on end. Upon sensing it, he'd instantly attached himself to Kagome and hadn't spoken a word to anyone.
Not that anyone else was doing much talking. The group in general was being very quiet and no one seemed up to making small talk. He couldn't say he was protesting though.
Inu-Yasha was annoyed by all the time they'd lost because of that storm a few days back, Kagome looked worried for unexplained reasons, Miroku seemed oblivious to everything, and Sango had too much of a headache to care about anything at all. So Shippou had kept quiet, curling into Miroku's offered arms when Kagome began to tire of having his weight on her shoulders.
Still, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to speak at all. He kept his trap shut and thought about all the things that for some reason weren't really adding up- Sango's unceasing headache, Kagome's ever-furrowed brow . . . Even Miroku's over-friendly cuddling was making him nervous.
He snuggled deeper into the monk's robes, blinking fiercely and breathing in Miroku's scent. For him, everyone's scent had a feeling or emotion attached to it- love, or strength, or sometimes simply power. There had always been something reassuring about Miroku's; a sense of competence and the utter, absolute conviction that everything was going to be okay in the end.
For some reason, it wasn't comforting anymore.
Shippou sniffled once and Inu-Yasha glared at him. "And just what's wrong with you, fox?" he demanded.
"Shut up," Shippou retorted without the usual vigor.
And then there was the princess.
He had glimpsed her so briefly in the city right before finding the others, a beautiful woman in yellow silk and gold, surrounded by protective soldiers and buying a kimono from a merchant- a simple one, dark purple with black lining. She hadn't even noticed him, but for some reason, his nose had chosen that exact moment to twitch.
And amidst the stench of the unwashed soldiers and market in general, her scent was the most comforting thing in the world.
Shippou had followed them for as long as he dared in the guise that looked suspiciously like Inu-Yasha during his time of the month, if somewhat neater and lacking the golden eyes, and she had been smiling the whole time, like she knew some great secret and was never going to tell it.
Then some demon had attacked the edge of the town, and the soldiers had run off to battle it. The hime had been separated from the few that remained with her amidst the citizens' panic, but Shippou had managed to keep up with her. And when he'd seen the thug advancing on her from behind, his eyes greedy and licking his lips . . .
Well, he'd attacked. Smashed the man upside the head with all the strength of his temporary body, and the hime had turned, surprise on her face, just as the kitsune illusion that masked him had finally shattered under all the stress.
He'd frozen, expecting her to scream and possibly faint.
But she'd only smiled at him . . .
And kept on walking.
"Thank you, Shippou," she had called over her shoulder, and then the soldiers had swarmed in around her again, hiding her from view.
And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how she knew his name.
* tbc . . . *
Check out her Miroku/Sango shrine at http://mirokusango.topcities.com/. Es muy bueno, gringos. ^_~
"Shippou's Silence"
Shippou was worried.
He wasn't quite sure why, but something had been . . . wrong. Ever since yesterday, when he'd found Inu-Yasha and the others arguing outside the city gates, something had been making all of his fur stand on end. Upon sensing it, he'd instantly attached himself to Kagome and hadn't spoken a word to anyone.
Not that anyone else was doing much talking. The group in general was being very quiet and no one seemed up to making small talk. He couldn't say he was protesting though.
Inu-Yasha was annoyed by all the time they'd lost because of that storm a few days back, Kagome looked worried for unexplained reasons, Miroku seemed oblivious to everything, and Sango had too much of a headache to care about anything at all. So Shippou had kept quiet, curling into Miroku's offered arms when Kagome began to tire of having his weight on her shoulders.
Still, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to speak at all. He kept his trap shut and thought about all the things that for some reason weren't really adding up- Sango's unceasing headache, Kagome's ever-furrowed brow . . . Even Miroku's over-friendly cuddling was making him nervous.
He snuggled deeper into the monk's robes, blinking fiercely and breathing in Miroku's scent. For him, everyone's scent had a feeling or emotion attached to it- love, or strength, or sometimes simply power. There had always been something reassuring about Miroku's; a sense of competence and the utter, absolute conviction that everything was going to be okay in the end.
For some reason, it wasn't comforting anymore.
Shippou sniffled once and Inu-Yasha glared at him. "And just what's wrong with you, fox?" he demanded.
"Shut up," Shippou retorted without the usual vigor.
And then there was the princess.
He had glimpsed her so briefly in the city right before finding the others, a beautiful woman in yellow silk and gold, surrounded by protective soldiers and buying a kimono from a merchant- a simple one, dark purple with black lining. She hadn't even noticed him, but for some reason, his nose had chosen that exact moment to twitch.
And amidst the stench of the unwashed soldiers and market in general, her scent was the most comforting thing in the world.
Shippou had followed them for as long as he dared in the guise that looked suspiciously like Inu-Yasha during his time of the month, if somewhat neater and lacking the golden eyes, and she had been smiling the whole time, like she knew some great secret and was never going to tell it.
Then some demon had attacked the edge of the town, and the soldiers had run off to battle it. The hime had been separated from the few that remained with her amidst the citizens' panic, but Shippou had managed to keep up with her. And when he'd seen the thug advancing on her from behind, his eyes greedy and licking his lips . . .
Well, he'd attacked. Smashed the man upside the head with all the strength of his temporary body, and the hime had turned, surprise on her face, just as the kitsune illusion that masked him had finally shattered under all the stress.
He'd frozen, expecting her to scream and possibly faint.
But she'd only smiled at him . . .
And kept on walking.
"Thank you, Shippou," she had called over her shoulder, and then the soldiers had swarmed in around her again, hiding her from view.
And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how she knew his name.
* tbc . . . *