FINALLY finished this. Please, forgive any continuity errors in this fic. I'm trying hard, really I am, but I'm operating under a knowledge handicap. ^^; If you note any characterization or major continuity errors (though I'm more worried about OOC mistakes) please email me with some tips on how to improve!
I must thank both Rin (Sunfreak) and Xintriel for their help on this. You two are great betas, if only because you bolster my ego. Also, anyone who likes this pairing and -hasn't- read Sunfreak's "The Existance of You"... what are you WAITING for?
... I think that's it. Enjoy, all ^^
=+=+=+=
The day, Miroku reflected as he dodged yet another barrage of blows, was not going as planned.
He had planned on a pleasant evening with his comrades, staying in the most expensive home in town. He had planned on possibly spending some nice, quality time with Sango. What he had most certainly not planned on was being run out of town.
Well, how was he supposed to know she was the prince's daughter?
Inu-Yasha apparently expected him to be psychic, as he was currently attempting to beat him within an inch of his life. Thank god Kagome was there to keep him in check. Not that dealing with Kagome's scolding was much better, especially with Shippo nodding smugly along with all of her points.
And of course there was Sango, who after hitting him once so hard his teeth had rattled, retreated into an offended silence that had him feeling quite dreadful.
Sometimes, he wondered if anyone would ever understand, even Sango. Every day, he lived was one closer to being swallowed by Naraku's curse. And if he didn't fulfill his duty, his family would disappear with him. He didn't know why everyone considered him a pervert. He just took his duty to bear a child very seriously.
... well, okay. Maybe he had one or two perverted moments. But he was a monk! He would never truly take advantage of a woman.
"Miroku, are you even listening?" Kagome broke in on his thoughts, her tone even more annoyed than it had been at the beginning of her lecture.
He winced and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, Lady Kagome. I'm terribly sorry, I... got carried away." He spread his hands, shrugging. "It won't happen again.
"That's what you said last time, monk!" Inu-Yasha glared up at him from his twisted and painful looking position down by Kagome's feet. One too many "sits," Miroku presumed.
"Yea!" piped up Shippo, not to be left behind in the conversation.
A dull headache had blossomed between his eyes, and he reached up to rub at his nose slightly.
"Does anyone else hear that?" Sango suddenly shushed the group, moments before the attack hit.
=+=+=+=
Miroku was running in earnest and wondering how in hell they hadn't anticipated the attack. Naraku had made another offensive against them, sending a horde of lesser demons and Kagura to torment them yet again. And of course, while Inu-Yasha was busy with Kagura and Miroku was all but taken out of the fight, due to the hellwasps in the air, the demons had separated the rest of the comrades, leaving him without Sango or Inu-Yasha's fighting abilities, and with hellwasps hovering in the air and quite a few crazed lesser demons on his trail, he was more-or-less the underdog.
The whole running-away thing would have been, of course, easier if he hadn't had to flee up the mountain instead of into the town. He would have lost them a long time ago if his options weren't so limited. Rather easy to guess where your prey was going when you were chasing it up a mountain.
Ducking into a shallow crevasse was the only remotely sneaky battle tactic that sprung to mind. Breathlessly, aching from bruised lungs and limbs long past burning and cramping, squeezed between sharp rock walls, Miroku waited for his pursuers to pass him, hoping desperately they had gotten lost enough in their bloodlust to have abandoned tracking him by smell.
His luck held out. He counted the youkai as they passed him... one... two... six... More than he had hoped, but better than he had started out with. Cautiously he poked his head out of his hiding place, inching out of it. Quietly and quickly as possible he began picking his way down the narrow mountain trail, nervously glancing behind him.
A sudden, loud rumble from just behind him startled the monk, and as his head snapped back towards the source of the sound, he felt his feet begin to slide beneath him. He had time for one panicked shout before his footing dropped out from beneath him, and he was sent hurtling down the sheer side into blackness.
=+=+=+=
Sesshomaru observed Naraku's latest failed battle from the side of the nearby mountain. A light breeze, carrying the stench of demon blood ruffled his tail and pulled at his hair.
He supposed his half-brother and his friends had escaped unscathed again. A pity, that. Though he didn't agree with the other youkai's goals, he would not object to Naraku killing Inu-Yasha, provided, of course, that he receive the Tetsaiga.
He turned to leave, disgusted with the whole affair and anxious to get back and check on Rin and Jaken - if she had gotten herself in trouble again, his servant would have hell to pay.
Making his way down the mountain proved a touch more difficult than getting up it. Part of a higher trail had collapsed, strewing piles of rubble into his path. Sesshomaru froze, staring down at the rocks that blocked his way... and the body of the monk who traveled with Inu-Yasha. He lay apart from the rubble and his neck was turned at an awkward angle, pools of blood slowly drying on the rocky ground below it. He was obviously dead - probably having fallen when the trail collapsed.
Sesshomaru stared at the human's body impassively for several moments, watching the silky dark hair ruffle in the breeze, the only movement left to it. Slowly, he came closer, kneeled down next to it, careful not to touch the human's blood. He rested his hand on the human's head lightly, frowning almost imperceptibly as he let his fingers slip through the monk's hair.
Suddenly he stood up, half-turned away from the body, continuing down the mountain, one hand almost unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword.
He managed a couple steps away, before he paused. Letting his gaze fall back on the human, he frowned again, deeper this time, then went back, sinking down beside him again, awkwardly gathering the still-limp body into his arms.
=+=+=+=
Miroku yawned, stretched. Was it morning already? He groaned, flinging an arm over his face, trying desperately not to be awake. He had horrible dreams all night.
He had dreamt that he had died. But that wasn't the bad part, not really. Dead was really kind of... peaceful. Serene, like there was nothing left to really worry him. No curse, no need to have children or fight, or do anything. Not even worry about his comrades. He had known, without quite knowing how, that everything was all right.
The part that had him unaccountably angry was the part in his dream where he came back. It was as if he had been dragged back to his aching body by his hair, kicking and screaming the whole way.
Not the sort of dreams that encouraged waking up and facing the world, really.
Miroku snuggled down into the futon a bit more, sighing, keeping his eyes screwed shut. It was so damned comfortable. He was glad he had picked this palace. The lord was really quite...
... wait a second. Miroku let his arm fall to his side, eyes snapping fully open as he stared at the ceiling, suddenly beginning to wake up and fully remember what had happened yesterday.
They hadn't stayed in the town that night, they had been run out of it, thanks to his inability to choose the women he proposed children to wisely. And had fought Naraku's demons. Lots of demons. And he had...
Funny, he couldn't remember exactly what happened. One moment, he was slipping away from the demons chasing him, the next - blackness. And blinding pain.
He got up quickly, cursing under his breath and ignoring his various muscle aches and the pounding headache he seemed to have acquired, practically tripping to the door in his alarm. Where was everyone? Were they all alright? And most importantly, what the hell had happened?
He was stopped short by a low chuckle, from the far corner of the room. It was a voice he hoped to god that he didn't recognize as he instinctively reached for the knot that held his air rip closed.
I must thank both Rin (Sunfreak) and Xintriel for their help on this. You two are great betas, if only because you bolster my ego. Also, anyone who likes this pairing and -hasn't- read Sunfreak's "The Existance of You"... what are you WAITING for?
... I think that's it. Enjoy, all ^^
=+=+=+=
The day, Miroku reflected as he dodged yet another barrage of blows, was not going as planned.
He had planned on a pleasant evening with his comrades, staying in the most expensive home in town. He had planned on possibly spending some nice, quality time with Sango. What he had most certainly not planned on was being run out of town.
Well, how was he supposed to know she was the prince's daughter?
Inu-Yasha apparently expected him to be psychic, as he was currently attempting to beat him within an inch of his life. Thank god Kagome was there to keep him in check. Not that dealing with Kagome's scolding was much better, especially with Shippo nodding smugly along with all of her points.
And of course there was Sango, who after hitting him once so hard his teeth had rattled, retreated into an offended silence that had him feeling quite dreadful.
Sometimes, he wondered if anyone would ever understand, even Sango. Every day, he lived was one closer to being swallowed by Naraku's curse. And if he didn't fulfill his duty, his family would disappear with him. He didn't know why everyone considered him a pervert. He just took his duty to bear a child very seriously.
... well, okay. Maybe he had one or two perverted moments. But he was a monk! He would never truly take advantage of a woman.
"Miroku, are you even listening?" Kagome broke in on his thoughts, her tone even more annoyed than it had been at the beginning of her lecture.
He winced and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, Lady Kagome. I'm terribly sorry, I... got carried away." He spread his hands, shrugging. "It won't happen again.
"That's what you said last time, monk!" Inu-Yasha glared up at him from his twisted and painful looking position down by Kagome's feet. One too many "sits," Miroku presumed.
"Yea!" piped up Shippo, not to be left behind in the conversation.
A dull headache had blossomed between his eyes, and he reached up to rub at his nose slightly.
"Does anyone else hear that?" Sango suddenly shushed the group, moments before the attack hit.
=+=+=+=
Miroku was running in earnest and wondering how in hell they hadn't anticipated the attack. Naraku had made another offensive against them, sending a horde of lesser demons and Kagura to torment them yet again. And of course, while Inu-Yasha was busy with Kagura and Miroku was all but taken out of the fight, due to the hellwasps in the air, the demons had separated the rest of the comrades, leaving him without Sango or Inu-Yasha's fighting abilities, and with hellwasps hovering in the air and quite a few crazed lesser demons on his trail, he was more-or-less the underdog.
The whole running-away thing would have been, of course, easier if he hadn't had to flee up the mountain instead of into the town. He would have lost them a long time ago if his options weren't so limited. Rather easy to guess where your prey was going when you were chasing it up a mountain.
Ducking into a shallow crevasse was the only remotely sneaky battle tactic that sprung to mind. Breathlessly, aching from bruised lungs and limbs long past burning and cramping, squeezed between sharp rock walls, Miroku waited for his pursuers to pass him, hoping desperately they had gotten lost enough in their bloodlust to have abandoned tracking him by smell.
His luck held out. He counted the youkai as they passed him... one... two... six... More than he had hoped, but better than he had started out with. Cautiously he poked his head out of his hiding place, inching out of it. Quietly and quickly as possible he began picking his way down the narrow mountain trail, nervously glancing behind him.
A sudden, loud rumble from just behind him startled the monk, and as his head snapped back towards the source of the sound, he felt his feet begin to slide beneath him. He had time for one panicked shout before his footing dropped out from beneath him, and he was sent hurtling down the sheer side into blackness.
=+=+=+=
Sesshomaru observed Naraku's latest failed battle from the side of the nearby mountain. A light breeze, carrying the stench of demon blood ruffled his tail and pulled at his hair.
He supposed his half-brother and his friends had escaped unscathed again. A pity, that. Though he didn't agree with the other youkai's goals, he would not object to Naraku killing Inu-Yasha, provided, of course, that he receive the Tetsaiga.
He turned to leave, disgusted with the whole affair and anxious to get back and check on Rin and Jaken - if she had gotten herself in trouble again, his servant would have hell to pay.
Making his way down the mountain proved a touch more difficult than getting up it. Part of a higher trail had collapsed, strewing piles of rubble into his path. Sesshomaru froze, staring down at the rocks that blocked his way... and the body of the monk who traveled with Inu-Yasha. He lay apart from the rubble and his neck was turned at an awkward angle, pools of blood slowly drying on the rocky ground below it. He was obviously dead - probably having fallen when the trail collapsed.
Sesshomaru stared at the human's body impassively for several moments, watching the silky dark hair ruffle in the breeze, the only movement left to it. Slowly, he came closer, kneeled down next to it, careful not to touch the human's blood. He rested his hand on the human's head lightly, frowning almost imperceptibly as he let his fingers slip through the monk's hair.
Suddenly he stood up, half-turned away from the body, continuing down the mountain, one hand almost unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword.
He managed a couple steps away, before he paused. Letting his gaze fall back on the human, he frowned again, deeper this time, then went back, sinking down beside him again, awkwardly gathering the still-limp body into his arms.
=+=+=+=
Miroku yawned, stretched. Was it morning already? He groaned, flinging an arm over his face, trying desperately not to be awake. He had horrible dreams all night.
He had dreamt that he had died. But that wasn't the bad part, not really. Dead was really kind of... peaceful. Serene, like there was nothing left to really worry him. No curse, no need to have children or fight, or do anything. Not even worry about his comrades. He had known, without quite knowing how, that everything was all right.
The part that had him unaccountably angry was the part in his dream where he came back. It was as if he had been dragged back to his aching body by his hair, kicking and screaming the whole way.
Not the sort of dreams that encouraged waking up and facing the world, really.
Miroku snuggled down into the futon a bit more, sighing, keeping his eyes screwed shut. It was so damned comfortable. He was glad he had picked this palace. The lord was really quite...
... wait a second. Miroku let his arm fall to his side, eyes snapping fully open as he stared at the ceiling, suddenly beginning to wake up and fully remember what had happened yesterday.
They hadn't stayed in the town that night, they had been run out of it, thanks to his inability to choose the women he proposed children to wisely. And had fought Naraku's demons. Lots of demons. And he had...
Funny, he couldn't remember exactly what happened. One moment, he was slipping away from the demons chasing him, the next - blackness. And blinding pain.
He got up quickly, cursing under his breath and ignoring his various muscle aches and the pounding headache he seemed to have acquired, practically tripping to the door in his alarm. Where was everyone? Were they all alright? And most importantly, what the hell had happened?
He was stopped short by a low chuckle, from the far corner of the room. It was a voice he hoped to god that he didn't recognize as he instinctively reached for the knot that held his air rip closed.