Miroku's Bedtime Stories
Chapter 3
Profit and Pleasure
Miroku had already decided he wasn't going to spend this night sleeping on the ground again.
Oh, it was all right sometimes, but enough was enough. He started listening for opportunities.
He never felt too guilty about deceiving some wealthy nobleman out of a night's lodging and food. Most of them were pompous, stupid and arrogant. He particularly enjoyed setting up some nasty fellow who treated the local villagers oppressively. And, as it turned out, his services often became genuinely needed.
Youkai had an unpleasant habit of following their little group around.
The Shikon no Tama shards had many seekers.
Sango was tired, but she watched carefully for weasel youkai. There were many of them in this particular forest. Not the most fearsome creatures, but dangerous, nevertheless. She rubbed the abrasion on her left forearm from a fight a few days ago. It itched, part of the healing process.
She fought the urge to scratch it. Miroku had put a healing ointment on it for her, although she had protested. She could tend it herself. He'd insisted. She'd relented. She didn't let herself think about whether she enjoyed his touch or not. Wounds had to be cleaned and treated. That's all it was.
He walked up ahead of the women, with Shippou riding on his broad shoulders. He was singing as he walked along.
"Probably making up more stories in his head," she thought, snorting a little.
Silly romantic stories. She hadn't known that monks could be such foolish romantics.
Of course, most monks didn't go around eating animal flesh, groping local village girls or frequent geisha houses drinking sake all night.
Most monks weren't tall, handsome and charming either.
She listened to what he was singing. A romantic song. What else?
She blushed. The lyrics were somewhat...suggestive.
Kagome noticed the blush. She grinned at her friend.
"In my time, love songs are even more explicit than that," she said to Sango.
"Really?" asked Sango. She often wondered what Kagome's time was like.
Kagome was her best friend, but she came from times when women apparently were much freer to do as they pleased. The thought was intriguing.
Men of her time often found her unfeminine. Demon slayers couldn't always act or dress like proper ladies. She didn't even dress like a woman most of the time. She was past marriageable age anyway, as far as most men were concerned. Nineteen. She'd be twenty soon.
A man wanted a young, pretty and submissive woman who could bear him healthy children. She rarely thought about being pretty. She wasn't particularly submissive. She was strong, courageous and smart, though. Good enough.
She forced those thoughts from her mind. "Pay attention!" she chastised herself, mentally. "You'll get everyone killed wandering off in your mind."
She looked up at the houshi. He seemed to have no such worries. He was walking along quite casually, singing that stupid love song.
Spending his time making up stories about princesses who fell in love with the east wind. It was a good story, though. She loved listening to his rich voice. And, she wondered about the story. Was he trying to say something? Did one person really know the heart of another?
She listened to the song. It made her think about the few conversations they'd had alone.
Sometimes, her skin tingled when spoke near her ear.
His eyes were so beautiful, she thought. Almost black, but they looked purple in certain lights...
She stopped herself. It was inappropriate to think of the houshi-sama that way. She focused on his more unsavory attributes. He was cunning, a con- artist, and sometimes he lied. And the wandering hands. The winking. The leering.
"It must be nice to take life so lightly," she thought.
He acted as though the wind tunnel curse that was going to gradually take him over was nothing. He rarely mentioned it.
"There's a large village up ahead," called down Inuyasha from a large maple tree; he had run ahead as usual to scout things out for their party.
"Good," sighed Kagome. She and Sango were walking together. "This backpack is starting to weigh a ton."
Sango nodded. It would be good to sleep in a village again.
Miroku grinned. If the village were large enough, there might be an innkeeper whose inn needed a curse lifted.
He rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully. He hoped it was a nice inn. And that there was a stupid innkeeper.
Inuyasha scowled. He never felt comfortable around villagers. They were usually scared shitless of him. They accepted him because of his friends. Sometimes.
He'd rather spend the night in a tree. It was quieter. No one giving him fearful glances or angry stares.
He looked over at Kagome and Sango. They seemed tired. They'd been fighting a lot of those stupid weasel demons in the last week. It was getting boring. They hadn't found a jewel shard in two weeks.
He sighed. He'd sleep inside tonight. For Kagome's sake.
They ventured into the village. People stared outrageously, of course.
A tall, silver haired half dog youkai didn't come into your village everyday.
Accompanied by a handsome monk, a demon slayer walking with a cat demon on her shoulder, and a girl from the future wearing strange clothes.
A village elder approached them, frowning. "What business do you have here?" he asked bluntly.
Miroku spoke.
"My fellow travelers and I are no threat to you," he said smoothly.
"We were walking by your village and I felt a curse had been put upon it. Cannot you feel the dark cloud hanging over you? Have there been any unexplained deaths, any sickness? I think you have need of our services. All we ask is food and lodging in return."
The man looked thoughtfully at Miroku.
"Houshi-sama, it is true that three villagers have died in strange circumstances in the last week. Perhaps we have need of your talents. Come along, but you must give me your word that the youkai will not harm anyone."
"He is completely under the miko's control," lied Miroku, pointing at Kagome and the prayer beads Inuyasha wore about his neck.
"And the kitsune is a mere child."
Inuyasha snorted and rolled his eyes. Kagome dug her elbow into his ribs, hard. He gave her a dirty look. Shippou grinned.
The headman took them to a reasonable looking inn. "You can stay here, my sister owns this inn," he explained. He went in to make arrangements.
"One day, Monk, that routine isn't gonna work," growled Inuyasha softly in Miroku's ear.
"But today, it did," he grinned at the hanyou.
Miroku went through his act, placing wards upon likely places, and chanting. He finally declared the village safe.
That night, they had a comfortable bed for a change. And a good hot meal and a bath.
One room, but it was big enough for everyone. The women shared a futon with Shippou and Kirara curled up by Sango's shoulder.
Inuyasha grabbed a blanket and was drowsing, back against the wall. Beds were for weak ningens or the sick. Besides, someone had to keep watch.
Miroku sighed and lay down on the other futon. He wasn't crazy about the idea of sharing a bed with Inuyasha anyway. Those sharp clawed toes of his were lethal.
The light from the lamps glowed.
Shippou spoke up. "Miroku, do you know any more stories?"
Miroku frowned and sat up. He'd taken off his robes and wore a simple dark cotton yukata. His hair, still damp, hung down loosely.
Sango peeked over at the monk. He looked thoughtfully into the lamplight.
"I know a few more stories, Shippou, but I think everyone wants to go to sleep."
"We don't mind," came Kagome's voice from under the blankets.
"If it helps put Shippou to sleep, go ahead."
Miroku thought.
Finally, he said, "This story is called 'The Foolish Monk who tried to Tame a River."
Inuyasha snorted. "Is this a true story?" he asked sarcastically.
Miroku shot him an amused look from under his brows. "Perhaps," he said, smiling ironically.
Chapter 3
Profit and Pleasure
Miroku had already decided he wasn't going to spend this night sleeping on the ground again.
Oh, it was all right sometimes, but enough was enough. He started listening for opportunities.
He never felt too guilty about deceiving some wealthy nobleman out of a night's lodging and food. Most of them were pompous, stupid and arrogant. He particularly enjoyed setting up some nasty fellow who treated the local villagers oppressively. And, as it turned out, his services often became genuinely needed.
Youkai had an unpleasant habit of following their little group around.
The Shikon no Tama shards had many seekers.
Sango was tired, but she watched carefully for weasel youkai. There were many of them in this particular forest. Not the most fearsome creatures, but dangerous, nevertheless. She rubbed the abrasion on her left forearm from a fight a few days ago. It itched, part of the healing process.
She fought the urge to scratch it. Miroku had put a healing ointment on it for her, although she had protested. She could tend it herself. He'd insisted. She'd relented. She didn't let herself think about whether she enjoyed his touch or not. Wounds had to be cleaned and treated. That's all it was.
He walked up ahead of the women, with Shippou riding on his broad shoulders. He was singing as he walked along.
"Probably making up more stories in his head," she thought, snorting a little.
Silly romantic stories. She hadn't known that monks could be such foolish romantics.
Of course, most monks didn't go around eating animal flesh, groping local village girls or frequent geisha houses drinking sake all night.
Most monks weren't tall, handsome and charming either.
She listened to what he was singing. A romantic song. What else?
She blushed. The lyrics were somewhat...suggestive.
Kagome noticed the blush. She grinned at her friend.
"In my time, love songs are even more explicit than that," she said to Sango.
"Really?" asked Sango. She often wondered what Kagome's time was like.
Kagome was her best friend, but she came from times when women apparently were much freer to do as they pleased. The thought was intriguing.
Men of her time often found her unfeminine. Demon slayers couldn't always act or dress like proper ladies. She didn't even dress like a woman most of the time. She was past marriageable age anyway, as far as most men were concerned. Nineteen. She'd be twenty soon.
A man wanted a young, pretty and submissive woman who could bear him healthy children. She rarely thought about being pretty. She wasn't particularly submissive. She was strong, courageous and smart, though. Good enough.
She forced those thoughts from her mind. "Pay attention!" she chastised herself, mentally. "You'll get everyone killed wandering off in your mind."
She looked up at the houshi. He seemed to have no such worries. He was walking along quite casually, singing that stupid love song.
Spending his time making up stories about princesses who fell in love with the east wind. It was a good story, though. She loved listening to his rich voice. And, she wondered about the story. Was he trying to say something? Did one person really know the heart of another?
She listened to the song. It made her think about the few conversations they'd had alone.
Sometimes, her skin tingled when spoke near her ear.
His eyes were so beautiful, she thought. Almost black, but they looked purple in certain lights...
She stopped herself. It was inappropriate to think of the houshi-sama that way. She focused on his more unsavory attributes. He was cunning, a con- artist, and sometimes he lied. And the wandering hands. The winking. The leering.
"It must be nice to take life so lightly," she thought.
He acted as though the wind tunnel curse that was going to gradually take him over was nothing. He rarely mentioned it.
"There's a large village up ahead," called down Inuyasha from a large maple tree; he had run ahead as usual to scout things out for their party.
"Good," sighed Kagome. She and Sango were walking together. "This backpack is starting to weigh a ton."
Sango nodded. It would be good to sleep in a village again.
Miroku grinned. If the village were large enough, there might be an innkeeper whose inn needed a curse lifted.
He rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully. He hoped it was a nice inn. And that there was a stupid innkeeper.
Inuyasha scowled. He never felt comfortable around villagers. They were usually scared shitless of him. They accepted him because of his friends. Sometimes.
He'd rather spend the night in a tree. It was quieter. No one giving him fearful glances or angry stares.
He looked over at Kagome and Sango. They seemed tired. They'd been fighting a lot of those stupid weasel demons in the last week. It was getting boring. They hadn't found a jewel shard in two weeks.
He sighed. He'd sleep inside tonight. For Kagome's sake.
They ventured into the village. People stared outrageously, of course.
A tall, silver haired half dog youkai didn't come into your village everyday.
Accompanied by a handsome monk, a demon slayer walking with a cat demon on her shoulder, and a girl from the future wearing strange clothes.
A village elder approached them, frowning. "What business do you have here?" he asked bluntly.
Miroku spoke.
"My fellow travelers and I are no threat to you," he said smoothly.
"We were walking by your village and I felt a curse had been put upon it. Cannot you feel the dark cloud hanging over you? Have there been any unexplained deaths, any sickness? I think you have need of our services. All we ask is food and lodging in return."
The man looked thoughtfully at Miroku.
"Houshi-sama, it is true that three villagers have died in strange circumstances in the last week. Perhaps we have need of your talents. Come along, but you must give me your word that the youkai will not harm anyone."
"He is completely under the miko's control," lied Miroku, pointing at Kagome and the prayer beads Inuyasha wore about his neck.
"And the kitsune is a mere child."
Inuyasha snorted and rolled his eyes. Kagome dug her elbow into his ribs, hard. He gave her a dirty look. Shippou grinned.
The headman took them to a reasonable looking inn. "You can stay here, my sister owns this inn," he explained. He went in to make arrangements.
"One day, Monk, that routine isn't gonna work," growled Inuyasha softly in Miroku's ear.
"But today, it did," he grinned at the hanyou.
Miroku went through his act, placing wards upon likely places, and chanting. He finally declared the village safe.
That night, they had a comfortable bed for a change. And a good hot meal and a bath.
One room, but it was big enough for everyone. The women shared a futon with Shippou and Kirara curled up by Sango's shoulder.
Inuyasha grabbed a blanket and was drowsing, back against the wall. Beds were for weak ningens or the sick. Besides, someone had to keep watch.
Miroku sighed and lay down on the other futon. He wasn't crazy about the idea of sharing a bed with Inuyasha anyway. Those sharp clawed toes of his were lethal.
The light from the lamps glowed.
Shippou spoke up. "Miroku, do you know any more stories?"
Miroku frowned and sat up. He'd taken off his robes and wore a simple dark cotton yukata. His hair, still damp, hung down loosely.
Sango peeked over at the monk. He looked thoughtfully into the lamplight.
"I know a few more stories, Shippou, but I think everyone wants to go to sleep."
"We don't mind," came Kagome's voice from under the blankets.
"If it helps put Shippou to sleep, go ahead."
Miroku thought.
Finally, he said, "This story is called 'The Foolish Monk who tried to Tame a River."
Inuyasha snorted. "Is this a true story?" he asked sarcastically.
Miroku shot him an amused look from under his brows. "Perhaps," he said, smiling ironically.