Miroku – Enchanted Rosary
Author's Notes: This starts off with Miroku this time at the age of about five or six. In this story, Miroku's Kazaana hasn't formed yet, but his father (knowing the truth) has to break the news to him. But...how do you tell a six year old that he's going to die? Think of this as a background story, because I plan to do the same thing with Sango and then write a fanfic with both of them. ^_^ Besides, this kind of explains a few things that the anime didn't.
A young Miroku, dressed in beige shorts and a white top intensely watched his mother as she carefully performed a purifying ritual. In front of her were a bunch of small white pearls that were soaking in holy water. Whatever she was doing, she was calling upon a lot of ki to do it.
Miroku always thought his mother was most beautiful when her ki blazed brightly like it did now. Her hair flowing weightlessly on the magical glow of her aura. When she was done, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She had only performed this ritual once before and that was on another rosary. It had protected her husband for all these many long years. True, it was only a replacement for the one that he had received from his father, but hers was stronger and held part of her soul in it. This rosary would protect her son with the same fiery intensity. She strung them together and clasped the ends together securely. The young child in front of her did not truly understand the meaning of this ritual, and he never would until the curse took its effect. She looked at her son with sadness and held on tightly to the newly created rosary. If her spell was strong enough, little Miroku would grow to be an old man. She put a little bit of her life energy into it, hoping for just that. "What's wrong, mama?" Miroku asked. He had remained still the entire time she performed the spell and only now had the courage to speak. Motherly instinct kicked in and the woman before him wanted nothing more than to hold him tightly and protect him from any and all dangers, burdening herself with them instead if she had to. But this was something she had no control over, and that's what made it hurt all the more. When the time came, what could she say that would ease Miroku's heart and mind? Opening her mouth, she wanted to say anything she could to express the regret of him having to wear this meant, but she could not find the words. Another person entered the room. It was her husband and Miroku's father. "Is it done?" She nodded and handed him the plain but powerful piece of jewelry. "What is that, father?" Miroku asked, hoping to get an answer from him at least. His father locked eyes with him for a moment and heaved a heavy sigh. "Miroku. Come with me." Without waiting for an answer, the man turned and went back the way he'd come. Miroku looked to his mother, but all she could do was nod. A strong lump had formed in her throat and she feared another word would cause her to burst out into tears in front of her son. Miroku stood and followed his father out, slowly and without confidence. The sense he got from both parents made him wary. As soon as she saw that both men are over the hill in the far distance, she let out her sadness and cried into her hands. Such innocence should not be taken away with such a cruel twist of fate and reality. The man behind it must have the blackest heart in all of Japan. She knew she could do nothing but watch that innocence blow away to a land beyond reach. So was the destiny of Miroku.
* * * Miroku's father kept walking until they were at the edge of the temple grounds, at a hill that had a marvelous view of the war-plagued land below. It was only here, that Miroku believed a man could forget about fighting his fellow man and live in peace. His father, though, did not seem at peace. "Miroku." He said suddenly. "Do you have anything that you want to accomplish in life?" It was a strange question to ask a boy his age, but what he was about to tell him was anything but childish. "I...I want to end the war and become a monk like you, father." Miroku said. Though he said nothing, Miroku's father reflected nothing but pride in his eyes and towards his son. His smile said it all. "It will not be an easy task, my son." "Nothing in this world is, Father." He knowingly replied. His father sighed once more and sat down on the lush grass. "Sit down, Miroku. There's something I must tell you." Miroku did as told and looked at the rosary in his father's hand. "Is it about the charm of protection Mother made?" "Yes, in fact it is. Miroku, there are demons out there, terrible youkai that take pleasure in harming others anyway they can." His father hesitated, then finally ran out of words to soften the blow and came out with it. "Years ago your grandfather was curse by such a youkai. His name was Naraku." "Naraku?" "Yes, and he's still alive out there. Somewhere. But, that is not the point." He turned to his son and suddenly got more serious. "Miroku, give me your right hand." Miroku complied and his father wrapped the rosary around his arm and around his fingers. "Father?" Now Miroku was scared. Why did he need such a powerful talisman of protection? "Miroku, never take this off, understand? The curse Naraku placed on our family is still running in your blood and one day it will awaken in your right hand. That rosary is the only protection your mother and myself can offer you. Promise me you won't take it off." Miroku's heart seemed to jump into his throat. Was there really a curse powerful enough to travel through three generations? "W-when will it go away, Father?" "It won't." He replied gravely. "Until Naraku is defeated it will continue into all the generations of our family centuries to come." Miroku began shaking his head in disbelief. "N-No! I can't believe it! Why? Why me?" Miroku's father immediately wrapped up his son and held him close. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be burdened by this. I will find and defeat Naraku. But until then you too will have to bear the curse. Just be strong. Please. Never lose faith...or you may lose yourself to the curse as well." Miroku's eyes watered up. How can life become this unfair? Why was he- out of everyone -cursed like this? There had to be a mistake. "I don't believe you!" Miroku pushed his father away and jumped to his feet. "My hand's just fine! I won't believe what you say!" "Haven't you ever noticed why I never take mine off!?" His father tried to convince him. "Mother gave you that! It was a gift, or course its precious!" "It's also keeping the curse at bay! It's the only reason I've lived this long!" Miroku didn't want to hear anymore, so he turned and ran away...
* * *
Miroku ran to the waterfall, his personal place of training. He could last underneath its powerful might for hours, all the while making his own chi stronger. The waterfall and surrounding pond has always brought him comfort. And comfort was something he needed very much right now. What curse could Naraku place on his family that was really all that bad? And besides, he was the third generation to have it, so it probably lost its power already.
Looking down at his hand, Miroku's heart began beating nervously. He was scared; he wasn't going to deny that.
Maybe he shouldn't. His father seemed pretty convinced of its power. But he had to see...
Pulling the rosary down his arm and over his hand, Miroku watched intently at the lines in his palm.
"I knew it! I haven't been cursed!"
But young Miroku spoke too soon, for just a few seconds later, an intense pain erupted in his palm. He grabbed his wrist and cried out, the rosary still held tightly in his left hand. "W-what's going on!?"
He felt the wind pick up all around him. Then starting off small but growing rapidly, a black hole formed in his hand. Branches, leaves, and rocks began flying towards him. Scared, he aimed his palm away from him. The water in the pool began swirling and lifting up flying towards him like everything else.
Struggling, he pulled the rosary back over his hand and was amazed when the winds immediately died down. The debris in the air stopped and fell to the ground, as well as the water.
His legs unable to support him anymore crumbled beneath him and he sank to his knees. His arms shook and he couldn't get enough air. Tears formed in his eyes and before he knew it, little Miroku lowered to the ground and cried as if the entire world had just ended for him.
The sun would never rise.
The mountains would fall back into the earth.
And the moon that held its place in the sky so majestically even when the surrounding darkness closed in around it, trying to shut out its gentle light would finally fade away forever.
All of these natural beauties seemed to disappear from his life. Everything taking a turn for the worst. Life would never be the same.
And all he could do about it was cry...
* * *
It was after dusk when Miroku finally returned home, his eyes bright red and puffy. He had no more tears left, but the loneliness and despair he felt still beat strongly inside his heart.
His mother greeted him at the door with a warm hug, but his arms stayed loosely at his sides. He didn't blame her, but his body was weak and he was tired. So, with a weak smile, he retreated to his room, the thoughts of his father still echoing in the depths of his mind.
It was the middle of the night when he heard the ruckus outside the temple. His father shouted and he could hear his mother's panicked voice.
Bolting up out of bed, Miroku ran outside to the door and beheld a most dramatic scene.
Before him were a hundred demons at least, all creeping out of the surrounding forest. They were attacking the temple as a whole, all bent on tearing it down to its foundations.
"Miroku! Get inside now!" His father shouted, pulling his attention back to his parents. Without waiting for a response, Miroku's father unwrapped the rosary from his hand and the wind exploded all around him. "Kazaana!"
The demons, caught off guard by this, lifted up and got sucked into the air void. All of the demons were soon gone, but suddenly he heard his father cry out and grasp his hand even tighter.
Miroku's mother screamed and ran over to her husband, but unable to control it anymore, Miroku's father unwilling sucked up the love of his life too.
"No!" Miroku cried out and ran outside, his hand reaching forward.
A voice from behind called out to him. "No! Miroku! Don't go!" Before he could save his father, the man wrapped strong arms around him and held him back.
"Father! Father!"
"You mustn't get any closer or you'll get sucked up too!"
Miroku didn't bother to look behind him, because he knew who it was. Mushin. Another monk, a friend of his father's, who was also staying at the house. How had he known about the curse?
But none of that mattered right now. Before his eyes, Miroku's father began shrinking as more and more of him disappeared into the air void.
Then there was a flash and a bang. The next thing Miroku knew, there was a huge crater in front of him, but no sign of his mother or father.
The strong arms that held him back became a shield to hide his tears. He was all alone now and cursed to make things worse. Would that happen to him as well? Was he destined to die by something he couldn't control?
Miroku wasn't sure, but he was sure about one thing...
As the days passed, Miroku and his new guardian, Mushin, made a grave marker at the sight of his father's disappearance. Now, all by himself, Miroku knelt on both knees and closed his hands in prayer. "I swear, on this grave and with the witness of the gods, I will hunt down and kill Naraku. This curse will belong to no one else but me and if it so kills me, then I accept my fate. But until then, I will seek my revenge."
He clasped the rosary tightly and thanked his mother in the after world for her blessing. May she watch over and protect me on my mission until it is my time to join her. I love you both and I will miss you. Until then...
Author's Note: Pretty intense, huh? I know I may have gotten a few details wrong, but for the most part, I think I did all right. My next short story will focus around Sango and her first steps to becoming a youkai exterminator. Anyone know what she's called again? Anyway, it's a sweet story between brother and sister, but for those of us who know the hardships they go through later, it'll really hit a soft spot. Until then!
Author's Notes: This starts off with Miroku this time at the age of about five or six. In this story, Miroku's Kazaana hasn't formed yet, but his father (knowing the truth) has to break the news to him. But...how do you tell a six year old that he's going to die? Think of this as a background story, because I plan to do the same thing with Sango and then write a fanfic with both of them. ^_^ Besides, this kind of explains a few things that the anime didn't.
A young Miroku, dressed in beige shorts and a white top intensely watched his mother as she carefully performed a purifying ritual. In front of her were a bunch of small white pearls that were soaking in holy water. Whatever she was doing, she was calling upon a lot of ki to do it.
Miroku always thought his mother was most beautiful when her ki blazed brightly like it did now. Her hair flowing weightlessly on the magical glow of her aura. When she was done, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She had only performed this ritual once before and that was on another rosary. It had protected her husband for all these many long years. True, it was only a replacement for the one that he had received from his father, but hers was stronger and held part of her soul in it. This rosary would protect her son with the same fiery intensity. She strung them together and clasped the ends together securely. The young child in front of her did not truly understand the meaning of this ritual, and he never would until the curse took its effect. She looked at her son with sadness and held on tightly to the newly created rosary. If her spell was strong enough, little Miroku would grow to be an old man. She put a little bit of her life energy into it, hoping for just that. "What's wrong, mama?" Miroku asked. He had remained still the entire time she performed the spell and only now had the courage to speak. Motherly instinct kicked in and the woman before him wanted nothing more than to hold him tightly and protect him from any and all dangers, burdening herself with them instead if she had to. But this was something she had no control over, and that's what made it hurt all the more. When the time came, what could she say that would ease Miroku's heart and mind? Opening her mouth, she wanted to say anything she could to express the regret of him having to wear this meant, but she could not find the words. Another person entered the room. It was her husband and Miroku's father. "Is it done?" She nodded and handed him the plain but powerful piece of jewelry. "What is that, father?" Miroku asked, hoping to get an answer from him at least. His father locked eyes with him for a moment and heaved a heavy sigh. "Miroku. Come with me." Without waiting for an answer, the man turned and went back the way he'd come. Miroku looked to his mother, but all she could do was nod. A strong lump had formed in her throat and she feared another word would cause her to burst out into tears in front of her son. Miroku stood and followed his father out, slowly and without confidence. The sense he got from both parents made him wary. As soon as she saw that both men are over the hill in the far distance, she let out her sadness and cried into her hands. Such innocence should not be taken away with such a cruel twist of fate and reality. The man behind it must have the blackest heart in all of Japan. She knew she could do nothing but watch that innocence blow away to a land beyond reach. So was the destiny of Miroku.
* * * Miroku's father kept walking until they were at the edge of the temple grounds, at a hill that had a marvelous view of the war-plagued land below. It was only here, that Miroku believed a man could forget about fighting his fellow man and live in peace. His father, though, did not seem at peace. "Miroku." He said suddenly. "Do you have anything that you want to accomplish in life?" It was a strange question to ask a boy his age, but what he was about to tell him was anything but childish. "I...I want to end the war and become a monk like you, father." Miroku said. Though he said nothing, Miroku's father reflected nothing but pride in his eyes and towards his son. His smile said it all. "It will not be an easy task, my son." "Nothing in this world is, Father." He knowingly replied. His father sighed once more and sat down on the lush grass. "Sit down, Miroku. There's something I must tell you." Miroku did as told and looked at the rosary in his father's hand. "Is it about the charm of protection Mother made?" "Yes, in fact it is. Miroku, there are demons out there, terrible youkai that take pleasure in harming others anyway they can." His father hesitated, then finally ran out of words to soften the blow and came out with it. "Years ago your grandfather was curse by such a youkai. His name was Naraku." "Naraku?" "Yes, and he's still alive out there. Somewhere. But, that is not the point." He turned to his son and suddenly got more serious. "Miroku, give me your right hand." Miroku complied and his father wrapped the rosary around his arm and around his fingers. "Father?" Now Miroku was scared. Why did he need such a powerful talisman of protection? "Miroku, never take this off, understand? The curse Naraku placed on our family is still running in your blood and one day it will awaken in your right hand. That rosary is the only protection your mother and myself can offer you. Promise me you won't take it off." Miroku's heart seemed to jump into his throat. Was there really a curse powerful enough to travel through three generations? "W-when will it go away, Father?" "It won't." He replied gravely. "Until Naraku is defeated it will continue into all the generations of our family centuries to come." Miroku began shaking his head in disbelief. "N-No! I can't believe it! Why? Why me?" Miroku's father immediately wrapped up his son and held him close. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be burdened by this. I will find and defeat Naraku. But until then you too will have to bear the curse. Just be strong. Please. Never lose faith...or you may lose yourself to the curse as well." Miroku's eyes watered up. How can life become this unfair? Why was he- out of everyone -cursed like this? There had to be a mistake. "I don't believe you!" Miroku pushed his father away and jumped to his feet. "My hand's just fine! I won't believe what you say!" "Haven't you ever noticed why I never take mine off!?" His father tried to convince him. "Mother gave you that! It was a gift, or course its precious!" "It's also keeping the curse at bay! It's the only reason I've lived this long!" Miroku didn't want to hear anymore, so he turned and ran away...
* * *
Miroku ran to the waterfall, his personal place of training. He could last underneath its powerful might for hours, all the while making his own chi stronger. The waterfall and surrounding pond has always brought him comfort. And comfort was something he needed very much right now. What curse could Naraku place on his family that was really all that bad? And besides, he was the third generation to have it, so it probably lost its power already.
Looking down at his hand, Miroku's heart began beating nervously. He was scared; he wasn't going to deny that.
Maybe he shouldn't. His father seemed pretty convinced of its power. But he had to see...
Pulling the rosary down his arm and over his hand, Miroku watched intently at the lines in his palm.
"I knew it! I haven't been cursed!"
But young Miroku spoke too soon, for just a few seconds later, an intense pain erupted in his palm. He grabbed his wrist and cried out, the rosary still held tightly in his left hand. "W-what's going on!?"
He felt the wind pick up all around him. Then starting off small but growing rapidly, a black hole formed in his hand. Branches, leaves, and rocks began flying towards him. Scared, he aimed his palm away from him. The water in the pool began swirling and lifting up flying towards him like everything else.
Struggling, he pulled the rosary back over his hand and was amazed when the winds immediately died down. The debris in the air stopped and fell to the ground, as well as the water.
His legs unable to support him anymore crumbled beneath him and he sank to his knees. His arms shook and he couldn't get enough air. Tears formed in his eyes and before he knew it, little Miroku lowered to the ground and cried as if the entire world had just ended for him.
The sun would never rise.
The mountains would fall back into the earth.
And the moon that held its place in the sky so majestically even when the surrounding darkness closed in around it, trying to shut out its gentle light would finally fade away forever.
All of these natural beauties seemed to disappear from his life. Everything taking a turn for the worst. Life would never be the same.
And all he could do about it was cry...
* * *
It was after dusk when Miroku finally returned home, his eyes bright red and puffy. He had no more tears left, but the loneliness and despair he felt still beat strongly inside his heart.
His mother greeted him at the door with a warm hug, but his arms stayed loosely at his sides. He didn't blame her, but his body was weak and he was tired. So, with a weak smile, he retreated to his room, the thoughts of his father still echoing in the depths of his mind.
It was the middle of the night when he heard the ruckus outside the temple. His father shouted and he could hear his mother's panicked voice.
Bolting up out of bed, Miroku ran outside to the door and beheld a most dramatic scene.
Before him were a hundred demons at least, all creeping out of the surrounding forest. They were attacking the temple as a whole, all bent on tearing it down to its foundations.
"Miroku! Get inside now!" His father shouted, pulling his attention back to his parents. Without waiting for a response, Miroku's father unwrapped the rosary from his hand and the wind exploded all around him. "Kazaana!"
The demons, caught off guard by this, lifted up and got sucked into the air void. All of the demons were soon gone, but suddenly he heard his father cry out and grasp his hand even tighter.
Miroku's mother screamed and ran over to her husband, but unable to control it anymore, Miroku's father unwilling sucked up the love of his life too.
"No!" Miroku cried out and ran outside, his hand reaching forward.
A voice from behind called out to him. "No! Miroku! Don't go!" Before he could save his father, the man wrapped strong arms around him and held him back.
"Father! Father!"
"You mustn't get any closer or you'll get sucked up too!"
Miroku didn't bother to look behind him, because he knew who it was. Mushin. Another monk, a friend of his father's, who was also staying at the house. How had he known about the curse?
But none of that mattered right now. Before his eyes, Miroku's father began shrinking as more and more of him disappeared into the air void.
Then there was a flash and a bang. The next thing Miroku knew, there was a huge crater in front of him, but no sign of his mother or father.
The strong arms that held him back became a shield to hide his tears. He was all alone now and cursed to make things worse. Would that happen to him as well? Was he destined to die by something he couldn't control?
Miroku wasn't sure, but he was sure about one thing...
As the days passed, Miroku and his new guardian, Mushin, made a grave marker at the sight of his father's disappearance. Now, all by himself, Miroku knelt on both knees and closed his hands in prayer. "I swear, on this grave and with the witness of the gods, I will hunt down and kill Naraku. This curse will belong to no one else but me and if it so kills me, then I accept my fate. But until then, I will seek my revenge."
He clasped the rosary tightly and thanked his mother in the after world for her blessing. May she watch over and protect me on my mission until it is my time to join her. I love you both and I will miss you. Until then...
Author's Note: Pretty intense, huh? I know I may have gotten a few details wrong, but for the most part, I think I did all right. My next short story will focus around Sango and her first steps to becoming a youkai exterminator. Anyone know what she's called again? Anyway, it's a sweet story between brother and sister, but for those of us who know the hardships they go through later, it'll really hit a soft spot. Until then!