Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN! Mah first Inu-Yasha fanfic. I'm just so gosh-derned happy. Yeah.
And my very first yaoi one to boot! My idols… are Sunfreak, Katalyst, and mixe. Yes. I seceretly worship you all in my hallway closet ^.^ KWAHAHA!
I plan to write a good deal more, in my free time… my favorite cannon couple is Inu-Yasha/Kagome (I despise Kikyou.) and I'm a big supporter of that. But Inu-Yasha/Miroku is so much yummier. And …mmm…Naraku… no words are needed.
Miroku's mah favorite "good guy". Naraku's my favorite "bad Guy".
…heheheheh…
This takes place in the middle of volume 12. -.o I know, I know, my resources are limited, but I do have access to manga translations and scans. Full youkai Naraku ish yummy ^.^ After the encounter with Jinenji, but before the encounter on the mountain and stuff. Sort of AU, I guess.
Disclaimer: I don't own Inu-Yasha. Big surprise, ne? I expect everyone reading this fic will have a heart attack and die from the sheer shock of that new. **shakes head** If I actually owed this… they wouldn't be able to sell it in decent family-friendly book stores. **evil grin**
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Chapter 1- Peace"But then peace, peace! I am so mistrustful of it: so much afraid that it means a sort of weakness and giving in." -D. H. Lawrence, Selected Letters of D. H. Lawrence
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"I'm tired of explaining it, Inu-Yasha! I have to go home!"
The said hanyou dug his heels into the ground and blatantly refused to let go of Kagome's right wrist as she shouted those words for the umpteenth time that day. Kagome had made the mistake of believing Inu-Yasha had grown accustomed to her sparse trips into her own world. Obviously not.
Hence the term 'mistake'.
"Inu-Yasha!" she turned on him furiously. "Things are obviously getting more and more involving! I'm going to be gone for a long time, and I need to let my mom and my grandpa know! Not to mention," she faltered before she spoke the word "schoolwork". Her future was important to her, but the recent situation had made her studies seem kind of… miniscule.
"Not to mention what?" his dog-ears perked forward. If Kagome were not absolutely furious with the hanyou, she might've paused to notice how incredibly kawaii he was when irked.
"…other things!" she said, managing to yank her wrist free. "I'll be back in two days, Inu-Yasha!"
"Come back here!" the hanyou sprang after her-
"OSUWARI!"
SHMACK!
-and he was flattened to the ground. Growling and digging his claws into the earth in sheer frustration, he watched as she ran off through the forest. Damn unpredictable mood-swinging-typical-cheery-teenage snip of a girl.
She paused and turned slightly, waving. And then she went on.
Inu-Yasha's furious gaze softened slightly. Maybe she wasn't all that bad.
-.-
"So Kagome-sama has gone off… again?" Miroku cocked a brow at Inu-Yasha, who was sitting near the small fire in Kaede's hut.
"Yes," Inu-Yasha muttered.
"How long this time?"
"Two days."
"That's not so bad, Inu-Yasha," Sango said from where she was sitting opposite of the hanyou, and beside Miroku. Kirara was curled in her lap. "I mean, she's only going off to say goodbye to her family and all. Not as if it were for good or anything. I think her departure is perfectly understandable."
Inu-Yasha blinked very slowly.
"I agree with Sango," Miroku said quickly.
"Of course you do," Inu-Yasha muttered. "Everyone takes the first opportunity that presents itself to team up against me."
"That's right!" Miroku and Shippou chirped cheerily at him, simultaneously.
Inu-Yasha was left to his grumblings- and the ramen that Kagome had generously left for him.
-.-
The moon was high in the sky, near full. Only a tiny sliver of shadow kept it from being the full, shining orb that so set lovers' hearts on fire and young girls' eyes a-shine. In was waxing, and hung in the night sky amid the star-studded velvety blackness, beaming soft moonlight down like some grand crescendo, awaiting for its full rising the following night.
And Miroku felt this crescendo. It might have been near midnight- he did not know. Not a breeze stirred among the silvery grasses, not a wing-beat disturbed the peace in the treetops. In short, silence reigned.
The houshi cast a backwards look towards Kaede's hut. Kaede-baba had been kind enough to allow the group to use her hut for the night as a means of sleep. She had gone off to some other villager's house. No doubt a close friend.
Inu-Yasha, Sango, and Shippou were fast asleep. Miroku at first had thought the hanyou were merely pretending, as he normally did, but upon closer inspection he realized Inu-Yasha was actually fully and completely knocked out. Even half-youkai need their strength.
Miroku had seized that moment to go outside. Often, when he used to travel alone, he'd awake in the middle of the night and simply go for a stroll on his own, enjoying he calm that came in the uttermost dead of the night, before the stillness of dawn came.
Stillness was one thing. In the dawn, one could practically feel the hum of the energy and promise of a new day. The moment when all is groggily awakening, when you are filled with an irrational joy and you want to run, to shout, anything to express the joy within you.
But Miroku liked the simply calm before the joy. He tilted his head, closing his eyes and leaning on his staff. The sound he loved the most- complete and utter silence, and not one borne of death or destruction… one of sweet slumber. Peace.
He swayed slightly as a breeze kicked up. In this absolute peace, he could hear the grasses whisper against one another, as if bearing secrets only those who knew how to capture this moment must know.
And Miroku was not alone that night. In his contented, blissfully oblivious state of mind, he was alone- but another prowled the shadows.
--
Kohaku had done his work quickly- after the battle in which Naraku had discovered the true power hiding inside Kagome- to his master's urging. And Naraku was no weakling. Stealing the body of a lord, he'd lain in wait, recovering his strength. The palace hands had been driven away. Only Kohaku was there to aid him. But Kohaku was all he needed.
And as the days passed, and as his strength grew, his anger did also. Curse the fates. Curse that damn girl. Curse that half-breed Inu-Yasha.
And, as he had regained his previous state of empowerment, he'd made a resolution. He'd make them pay. Inu-Yasha. Kagome. Sango. Miroku.
So he'd tracked them. It wasn't difficult; tracking them never was. And he found them. And watched them.
And he'd waited. It was to his disappointment that the girl had fled to safety inside the well. He hadn't been far when watching- careful to place himself downwind of the hanyou (of course, Inu-Yasha's mind was on other things at that moment…) and had watched. He knew he had an opportunity to strike down the girl, to obliterate her then and there… but something had held him back.
That was too easy. He wanted long, delicious torture.
So he'd waited, deliberating. He'd been driven on by his insulted pride and his dull, steady anger. He was somewhat at a loss as of what to do- not that he'd ever admit that he, the great Naraku, could be seen sitting and twiddling his thumbs.
Not that he was twiddling his thumbs. That hadn't been invented yet. It wasn't to come to practice 'till about thirty years later, somewhere in Europe. Of course, Naraku had not the foggiest what or where Europe was, or that it existed. Of course he wasn't twiddling his thumbs.
He was dozing.
Maybe it was the way the tree he had perched in swayed and rocked gently, as if moved by an unseen wind. Maybe it was the utter calm and quiet that had fallen over the world like a silky cloak, embracing all in a soft, lulling hold.
Or perhaps it was the patterns the bright moonlight was making with the shadows of the leaves on the forest floor- mottled dances between barely distinguishable colors that led and fatigued the eyes until one was tempted to merely close them, sigh, and allow slumber to take them.
And he had almost done just that. Not sigh contentedly and lean back, but nearly completely nodded off when he caught the faintest glimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye.
The monk.
Naraku stiffened, leaning forward and pushing his baboon-pelt hood back so he could observe the human more clearly. He appeared to be… well, just standing. His bright, purple-blue eyes plainly reflected the moonlight. They were semi-closed, a sign of great relaxation… and then the monk closed them, leaning on his staff.
Naraku blinked. Apparently the monk had utterly lost his mind. Miroku knew of the dangers facing he and his companions, Naraku was sure of that. Could this be some kind of trap? No… he was sure they hadn't taken notice of him. If Inu-Yasha had scented him, even for a moment, he would have rushed headlong into battle.
No… this was another of those painstaking opportunities. For once, Naraku was left to curse his own good luck. He watched Miroku, trying to inwardly figure out what would be the best course of action.
--
Miroku looked up to the moon, slowly opening his eyes. The breeze that was rustling playfully about the grasses began to pick up, lightly ruffling the monk's hair.
--
Naraku watched. He felt a stirring of some sort of unfamiliar feeling. The monk looked so peaceful. So much a part of this velvety-quiet night. He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze becoming quizzical.
If you have never watched a stray cat roll over the gravel outside your door and wonder why it rolls in such seeming ecstasy, or marveled at the endless stamina of a dog as it races aimlessly from room to room, or stood in silent wonder as a wolf simply gazed, gazed at the bright, full moon hanging high in the sky with eyes widened to manic proportions until an obsessed howl rips its way from the creature's throat, you might not understand what Naraku did next.
He began to wonder. Who was this monk? Miroku had hardly said or done anything to Naraku, though it was obvious he despised the hanyou. Miroku was merely fighting for his life, and the life of his children, and his children's children. It was understandable. Almost noble.
Why did he stand here, happily oblivious to all but the pleasure stirred by the stillness and wonder of the night? What prompted him, despite all his shortcomings, and despite all the terror and obstacles in his way, to simply enjoy himself?
And yet he hid his sorrow, his fear from his comrades… he was so stoic. So noble.
Naraku narrowed his eyes. And that so-assumed nobility was what might destroy him, in the end. That monk and his cursed hand.
He paused. But Miroku couldn't use his hand now…
Naraku dropped down, silently, and moved forward.
--
Miroku closed his eyes once more, lifting his face to the full moonlight and simply standing still, sighing deeply. His allowed his mouth to hang slightly open, tasting the crisp night air. If Nirvana was anything like this, this solitary silence… then he was grateful he was a servant of Buddha.
--
On the forest fringe, Naraku froze. He was suddenly aware of something he hadn't felt in a long time, a sort of pulsating throb in every inch of his body. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his breath quickened, his eyes widened.
Miroku was goddamned beautiful.
There was no other word for it. Bathed in moonlight, standing statuesquely, his lips slightly parted, eyes closed, a look of utter peace on his face… he looked as if he, too, were pulsating- but with a quiet joy. Almost… innocent.
Naraku gave a shudder. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than Miroku. To dissolve that false sense of peace, to defile that innocence… to feel soft, yielding flesh under his hands, to crush his will upon the monk until his will was his prey's will… he wanted to control, to own, to dominate that obstacle which made him shudder so.
But how? He needed to move quickly.
--
Miroku slowly opened his eyes with a resigned sigh. Dawn would be soon approaching… and he would need his rest. Keeping Inu-Yasha under control would be enough of a deed tomorrow. He didn't need to do it without any hours of sleep under his belt.
He turned halfway- then paused, casting one last look to the moon and stars. The breeze, which had clung about him so softly this whole evening, suddenly picked up sharply, blowing against his front. He closed his eyes again, sighing, as his robes were swept back; they pressed against his front, highlighting the sinuous contours of the houshi's body.
--
Naraku gave a shudder as he saw the monk standing before the gale. He wanted him. He wanted him now.
He had stooped to pluck a handful of strong-smelling plants leaves when he paused. What had brought this irrational desire on? Why did he suddenly want this human, to break, to claim… to shatter? Why?
Miroku opened his hypnotic eyes again and turned.
….revenge. Anger. To pit the ultimate torture against the one member of Inu-Yasha's accursed band of comrades who hadn't directly affronted him, who was only caught in the age-old struggle of life against death.
His own intent. Seeing someone so innocently happy, seeing someone drinking in such simple pleasures as if they were the finest sake… he needed to show them that no joy was simple. Pain. Pleasure. They went hand in hand.
Desire. The wants of the flesh. His own body, though half-youkai, still held some semblance of human blood… he needed release. He needed to vent thus frustration. All upon an unwilling candidate… an unwilling, goddamned beautiful mystery of a man.
He shuddered with the very deliciousness of it.
He gently breathed his poisonous breath onto the leaves. Pain? No. He'd caused enough pain. Pain was only one form of torture. Physical pain, that is. But to elicit mental anguish and shame… ah. Now there was a new experience. And on so already fragile a man…
Not pain. Pleasure would be his weapon.
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Note: Woo! How was that? I think I'll go ahead and continue, regardless of reviews… but I would like some positive response. BLEEG! Feed me your reviews!
Flames, whatever. I feast upon feedback. Nya.
-Pertelot