A/N: Aha- behold, the chapter is complete! *happy monkey dance* Took me
forever to get it right, but since a few people seem to like poor little
suffering Kazuma, I thought I'd flesh him out as well as get some nice
Miroku-torture in.
"Merchant's Staff"
Miroku shrieked in a fashion that one might compare to a banshee were one in feudal Ireland instead of feudal Japan as the youkai merchant's greedy fingers found purchase in a less-than appropriate place. Instincts that he really shouldn't have had as a man kicked in and he slapped the other soundly. Then he thought better of it, picked a particularly expensive- looking vase from the merchant's cart, threw it at the lecher, and then retreated behind Kazuma's dark figure with a shudder of disgust.
Kazuma glared at the full-blooded youkai in a way which suggested that much pain and a great deal of blood were impending as Miroku tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he had just been soundly groped by what was quite simply a larger, uglier version of the oh-so-icky Jaken. It occurred to him after a moment's disbelief that he felt rather liked he'd been used, and something not unlike guilt poked at his conscience.
He wished Sango were here. She'd have known how to punish the youkai.
Without thinking, he curled into Kazuma, unconsciously seeking protection and feeling a brief flash of disappointment to feel disturbingly bony limbs instead of armor hidden underneath the hanyou's yukata.
"So yer takin' a human mate, then, Kazuma?" The merchant looked amused. "Not a surprise, I suppose, seein' as ya was 'raised' by 'em- if ya could call it that."
Miroku glared at the unnamed youkai and tightened his grip on Kazuma's yukata. He did not like this creature. He seemed like the sort who would sell anything- including other people's secrets.
"Let's just leave," he muttered, and Kazuma gave a last glance to the cart.
"I did bring you to Hayama for a reason, you know," he said with a sigh. "Is there anything you think you could use?" The hanyou gestured to the cart, and Miroku saw that a small but varied assortment of weapons was laid out there on blood-colored silk.
He gave them a brief, calculating glance, then finally stepped forward and came back with a glittering pair of sword-breakers. A quick inspection, and they went back to the silk while he turned his attention to an obsidian dagger. As Kazuma watched bemusedly and the merchant Hayama became more and more impressed, he went through the entire pile, finding nothing of quality that he could use to its full potential as a woman.
"Worthless," he said shortly, casting the last knife back atop its fellows. "I cannot use any of this."
Hayama grinned wolfishly and reached into his cart, pulling out a tightly wrapped bundle that was even taller than Kazuma. "Try one o' these, dearie," he advised her, and opened the bundle to reveal a half-dozen staffs.
Miroku again went straight into the weapons, unable to contain the grin when he picked up the fourth staff. It was beautiful- made of a dark, purple-black wood, and highly polished. Better still, it had absolutely flawless balance and at the end was a glittering silver blade. It was a halberd then; and not just a staff.
He gave it a quick spin; then automatically swiped it out a hair's breadth from Kazuma's nose. The other two gave him a bemused look as he cursed aloud at his own lack of speed.
"Gods damn this weak body," he said under his breath, and Kazuma gave him a worried look.
"Sango-hime?" he inquired, but got no reply.
"I must find Kaede-baba," Miroku muttered, rubbing at his temples and lowering the staff, which already threatened to make his new arms sore. "This situation is absolutely unacceptable."
" 'Situation'?" Both youkai raised an eyebrow at that.
"Yes!" he snapped. "I absolutely must get back to the village! My dear will be there, I know it!"
"Who the hell is 'dear'?" Kazuma asked helplessly, and Miroku glared up at the setting sun, ignoring the other two.
"Damned new moon," he growled. "Inu-Yasha will be late now. But we already are, I suppose. Kazuma, we must get going!" He turned to the merchant and demanded: "How much for this?"
"Fer you?" The youkai grinned again. "A kiss." Miroku blanched in disgust and Kazuma growled. The merchant laughed. "Really, girlie, if ya can take Kazuma's face- mine's not THAT much worse. And it ain't like I'd steal yer soul." Still chuckling, he wrapped his wares back up and returned them to his cart. "But if yer afraid, then yer afraid, and that's that."
"I'll give you a kiss- one you'll feel for a week!" Miroku threatened, clenching a fist at him. The merchant only laughed again, and Miroku fumed, dearly missing the Air Rip. "If I had my true form . . . " he growled without thinking, at which the other two blanched.
"Yer . . . true form?" Curious, the merchant leaned forward. "I ain't sensin' nothing- but I can't smell ya lyin' neither. What are ya, then, if ya've no youki?"
"Never said I wasn't human," Miroku muttered, but decided it was more than time to keep his trap shut in regards to the details of his current situation. "The staff- "
"Take it," the merchant cut in shortly. "I owe yer mate that much, gel." Before Miroku could even fully process the sudden change of opinion, he'd vanished, along with his wares.
"You never owed me a thing, old man," Kazuma muttered after him with a soft curse. "You saved me from myself. You gave me all the strength I have."
Miroku slung his staff across his shoulders and gave the hanyou a dubious look. "Whatever. Can we go eat now?"
* tbc . . . *
"Merchant's Staff"
Miroku shrieked in a fashion that one might compare to a banshee were one in feudal Ireland instead of feudal Japan as the youkai merchant's greedy fingers found purchase in a less-than appropriate place. Instincts that he really shouldn't have had as a man kicked in and he slapped the other soundly. Then he thought better of it, picked a particularly expensive- looking vase from the merchant's cart, threw it at the lecher, and then retreated behind Kazuma's dark figure with a shudder of disgust.
Kazuma glared at the full-blooded youkai in a way which suggested that much pain and a great deal of blood were impending as Miroku tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he had just been soundly groped by what was quite simply a larger, uglier version of the oh-so-icky Jaken. It occurred to him after a moment's disbelief that he felt rather liked he'd been used, and something not unlike guilt poked at his conscience.
He wished Sango were here. She'd have known how to punish the youkai.
Without thinking, he curled into Kazuma, unconsciously seeking protection and feeling a brief flash of disappointment to feel disturbingly bony limbs instead of armor hidden underneath the hanyou's yukata.
"So yer takin' a human mate, then, Kazuma?" The merchant looked amused. "Not a surprise, I suppose, seein' as ya was 'raised' by 'em- if ya could call it that."
Miroku glared at the unnamed youkai and tightened his grip on Kazuma's yukata. He did not like this creature. He seemed like the sort who would sell anything- including other people's secrets.
"Let's just leave," he muttered, and Kazuma gave a last glance to the cart.
"I did bring you to Hayama for a reason, you know," he said with a sigh. "Is there anything you think you could use?" The hanyou gestured to the cart, and Miroku saw that a small but varied assortment of weapons was laid out there on blood-colored silk.
He gave them a brief, calculating glance, then finally stepped forward and came back with a glittering pair of sword-breakers. A quick inspection, and they went back to the silk while he turned his attention to an obsidian dagger. As Kazuma watched bemusedly and the merchant Hayama became more and more impressed, he went through the entire pile, finding nothing of quality that he could use to its full potential as a woman.
"Worthless," he said shortly, casting the last knife back atop its fellows. "I cannot use any of this."
Hayama grinned wolfishly and reached into his cart, pulling out a tightly wrapped bundle that was even taller than Kazuma. "Try one o' these, dearie," he advised her, and opened the bundle to reveal a half-dozen staffs.
Miroku again went straight into the weapons, unable to contain the grin when he picked up the fourth staff. It was beautiful- made of a dark, purple-black wood, and highly polished. Better still, it had absolutely flawless balance and at the end was a glittering silver blade. It was a halberd then; and not just a staff.
He gave it a quick spin; then automatically swiped it out a hair's breadth from Kazuma's nose. The other two gave him a bemused look as he cursed aloud at his own lack of speed.
"Gods damn this weak body," he said under his breath, and Kazuma gave him a worried look.
"Sango-hime?" he inquired, but got no reply.
"I must find Kaede-baba," Miroku muttered, rubbing at his temples and lowering the staff, which already threatened to make his new arms sore. "This situation is absolutely unacceptable."
" 'Situation'?" Both youkai raised an eyebrow at that.
"Yes!" he snapped. "I absolutely must get back to the village! My dear will be there, I know it!"
"Who the hell is 'dear'?" Kazuma asked helplessly, and Miroku glared up at the setting sun, ignoring the other two.
"Damned new moon," he growled. "Inu-Yasha will be late now. But we already are, I suppose. Kazuma, we must get going!" He turned to the merchant and demanded: "How much for this?"
"Fer you?" The youkai grinned again. "A kiss." Miroku blanched in disgust and Kazuma growled. The merchant laughed. "Really, girlie, if ya can take Kazuma's face- mine's not THAT much worse. And it ain't like I'd steal yer soul." Still chuckling, he wrapped his wares back up and returned them to his cart. "But if yer afraid, then yer afraid, and that's that."
"I'll give you a kiss- one you'll feel for a week!" Miroku threatened, clenching a fist at him. The merchant only laughed again, and Miroku fumed, dearly missing the Air Rip. "If I had my true form . . . " he growled without thinking, at which the other two blanched.
"Yer . . . true form?" Curious, the merchant leaned forward. "I ain't sensin' nothing- but I can't smell ya lyin' neither. What are ya, then, if ya've no youki?"
"Never said I wasn't human," Miroku muttered, but decided it was more than time to keep his trap shut in regards to the details of his current situation. "The staff- "
"Take it," the merchant cut in shortly. "I owe yer mate that much, gel." Before Miroku could even fully process the sudden change of opinion, he'd vanished, along with his wares.
"You never owed me a thing, old man," Kazuma muttered after him with a soft curse. "You saved me from myself. You gave me all the strength I have."
Miroku slung his staff across his shoulders and gave the hanyou a dubious look. "Whatever. Can we go eat now?"
* tbc . . . *