A/N: Just to placate you, despite certain appearances in coming chapters,
this IS a Sango x Miroku fic.
"Hime's Demon"
Miroku felt like throwing up.
The requisite panic had been offset by first shock, then the need to charm the soldiers and stay calm in public, but now that he had a private room (which the local lord had been kind enough to prepare as soon as Miroku had batted "her" eyelashes at him) he was free to hyperventilate.
"I'm screwed, I'm screwed, so absolutely and utterly screwed . . . " he moaned, borrowing the expression from Kagome. "What was I thinking; I can't keep this up!"
He was tempted just to run for it- the moon was full and very bright tonight- but the soldiers that had protected him on the road trapped him here, and he'd be in more trouble without them anyway.
But Sango was in danger. They were all in danger; he had to DO something! Traveling with the soldiers was taking even longer than going solo had. If he didn't think of something soon, he'd go insane.
"Dear . . . " he moaned; then wondered who he was talking about.
Miroku wished more than anything that he could escape. More than anything, he wanted to run straight to Sango and be as close to her as humanly possible. Wanted to be safe, and it was safest with her. Somehow he was certain of that. But the lord had warned him not to go out to the gardens because of the guards surrounding his palace. Something about a youkai roaming the area.
"Dear, please don't leave me," he wailed under his breath, feeling his eyes start to burn. "I'm so afraid . . . "
This body was so insanely weak- a powdered and puffed princess with baby- soft skin and delicate bird-bones. There was no way it had been the youkai's original form. It was just some unfortunate girl who'd made the same mistake he had in trusting a stranger with hypnotic blue eyes.
He was damned. No matter what he did, he was damned.
He wasn't ready to die. All his life, he'd prepared for that one thing, and now that it was finally coming, he was panicking. Pathetic.
"Dear," he sobbed one last time, burying his face in his hands and finally breaking down in tears.
Then he felt a cool hand on his shoulder, and someone whispered, "Don't cry, hime," as he sensed a trace of . . . something. He couldn't place it, but he knew it all the same.
Miroku raised his head and came face to face with a dark-haired boy with large, gray eyes that looked almost silver in the light. He was moonstone- pale and wore a simple black yukata made of rough fabric. His hair was ratty and loose, about waist-length, and all of his being suggested something that Miroku knew he'd be kicking himself for not recognizing later.
"What's wrong?" the boy asked, quickly withdrawing his hand. "Why are you here? They aren't-" and he tensed- "they aren't going to make you marry the lord, are they?"
Miroku shuddered at the thought. "No! I'd kill him first!" he exclaimed.
The boy looked startled, then he grinned. "Kill him but not yourself? Not many women would say that," he remarked in amusement.
"Um . . . " Miroku winced.
"It's all right; I won't tell anyone," the boy promised with a chuckle. "No one would believe me anyway."
"Why not?" Miroku asked, glad for any kind of distraction.
The boy smirked ironically. "I'm the lord's son."
"Eh?!" Miroku choked.
"I am a bastard child," he explained further. "Does that alarm you?"
"Should it?" Miroku asked dryly. "Tell me your name."
The boy bowed a little awkwardly, seeming unused to formalities. "Kazuma, my lady. And you?"
"Sango," Miroku lied, returning the bow and regarding him thoughtfully. "Kazuma, will you do me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?" Kazuma asked, raising an eyebrow.
Miroku allowed himself a small chuckle. Naïve in manners, maybe, but at least not in street smarts- promising nothing before he knew what Miroku wanted. "I need a bodyguard," he explained with a lazy smile.
Kazuma blinked in surprise. "Ah . . . my lady, I don't think that's such a good idea."
"I'll give you whatever you want, as long as it is within my power," Miroku promised, mentally hoping he was picking a good 'bodyguard.' If Kazuma couldn't fight, they'd both be in trouble. But he looked like a warrior, and hopefully Miroku could still use a few of his own tricks.
"Princess, I can't-" Kazuma said weakly. "You have soldiers- you don't need my help."
"Can't travel fast enough with them," Miroku replied simply.
"Wait, you want to travel with JUST me?!" Kazuma boggled at him. "You're- you're joking!"
"I don't joke about things like this," Miroku huffed, flicking back his hair. "I need to get to the priestess Kaede, and I need to get to her quickly. It takes too long traveling with all those soldiers. What do you want? I could give you this body."
"You'd regret it in the morning," Kazuma warned. "All of it."
In the morning . . . Oh, that's what he was sensing. Imagine his luck, finding Kazuma right at that time of the month.
"It's alright, Kazuma-san," Miroku said with a smile, leaning towards him and winking conspiratorially. "I know you're a hanyou."
* tbc . . . *
"Hime's Demon"
Miroku felt like throwing up.
The requisite panic had been offset by first shock, then the need to charm the soldiers and stay calm in public, but now that he had a private room (which the local lord had been kind enough to prepare as soon as Miroku had batted "her" eyelashes at him) he was free to hyperventilate.
"I'm screwed, I'm screwed, so absolutely and utterly screwed . . . " he moaned, borrowing the expression from Kagome. "What was I thinking; I can't keep this up!"
He was tempted just to run for it- the moon was full and very bright tonight- but the soldiers that had protected him on the road trapped him here, and he'd be in more trouble without them anyway.
But Sango was in danger. They were all in danger; he had to DO something! Traveling with the soldiers was taking even longer than going solo had. If he didn't think of something soon, he'd go insane.
"Dear . . . " he moaned; then wondered who he was talking about.
Miroku wished more than anything that he could escape. More than anything, he wanted to run straight to Sango and be as close to her as humanly possible. Wanted to be safe, and it was safest with her. Somehow he was certain of that. But the lord had warned him not to go out to the gardens because of the guards surrounding his palace. Something about a youkai roaming the area.
"Dear, please don't leave me," he wailed under his breath, feeling his eyes start to burn. "I'm so afraid . . . "
This body was so insanely weak- a powdered and puffed princess with baby- soft skin and delicate bird-bones. There was no way it had been the youkai's original form. It was just some unfortunate girl who'd made the same mistake he had in trusting a stranger with hypnotic blue eyes.
He was damned. No matter what he did, he was damned.
He wasn't ready to die. All his life, he'd prepared for that one thing, and now that it was finally coming, he was panicking. Pathetic.
"Dear," he sobbed one last time, burying his face in his hands and finally breaking down in tears.
Then he felt a cool hand on his shoulder, and someone whispered, "Don't cry, hime," as he sensed a trace of . . . something. He couldn't place it, but he knew it all the same.
Miroku raised his head and came face to face with a dark-haired boy with large, gray eyes that looked almost silver in the light. He was moonstone- pale and wore a simple black yukata made of rough fabric. His hair was ratty and loose, about waist-length, and all of his being suggested something that Miroku knew he'd be kicking himself for not recognizing later.
"What's wrong?" the boy asked, quickly withdrawing his hand. "Why are you here? They aren't-" and he tensed- "they aren't going to make you marry the lord, are they?"
Miroku shuddered at the thought. "No! I'd kill him first!" he exclaimed.
The boy looked startled, then he grinned. "Kill him but not yourself? Not many women would say that," he remarked in amusement.
"Um . . . " Miroku winced.
"It's all right; I won't tell anyone," the boy promised with a chuckle. "No one would believe me anyway."
"Why not?" Miroku asked, glad for any kind of distraction.
The boy smirked ironically. "I'm the lord's son."
"Eh?!" Miroku choked.
"I am a bastard child," he explained further. "Does that alarm you?"
"Should it?" Miroku asked dryly. "Tell me your name."
The boy bowed a little awkwardly, seeming unused to formalities. "Kazuma, my lady. And you?"
"Sango," Miroku lied, returning the bow and regarding him thoughtfully. "Kazuma, will you do me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?" Kazuma asked, raising an eyebrow.
Miroku allowed himself a small chuckle. Naïve in manners, maybe, but at least not in street smarts- promising nothing before he knew what Miroku wanted. "I need a bodyguard," he explained with a lazy smile.
Kazuma blinked in surprise. "Ah . . . my lady, I don't think that's such a good idea."
"I'll give you whatever you want, as long as it is within my power," Miroku promised, mentally hoping he was picking a good 'bodyguard.' If Kazuma couldn't fight, they'd both be in trouble. But he looked like a warrior, and hopefully Miroku could still use a few of his own tricks.
"Princess, I can't-" Kazuma said weakly. "You have soldiers- you don't need my help."
"Can't travel fast enough with them," Miroku replied simply.
"Wait, you want to travel with JUST me?!" Kazuma boggled at him. "You're- you're joking!"
"I don't joke about things like this," Miroku huffed, flicking back his hair. "I need to get to the priestess Kaede, and I need to get to her quickly. It takes too long traveling with all those soldiers. What do you want? I could give you this body."
"You'd regret it in the morning," Kazuma warned. "All of it."
In the morning . . . Oh, that's what he was sensing. Imagine his luck, finding Kazuma right at that time of the month.
"It's alright, Kazuma-san," Miroku said with a smile, leaning towards him and winking conspiratorially. "I know you're a hanyou."
* tbc . . . *