CHAPTER ELEVEN

*

"Don't go near Inuyasha," Sango said.

Miroku blinked and rubbed his eyes. Morning had come all too soon, and he suspected that the sun had gotten a lot brighter than it had been the day before. He yawned. "Why not?"

"Inuyasha isn't happy."

"Why not?"

"Well, because he has a splitting headache, an upset stomach, and morning breath that could fell a dozen swamp demons," Sango said calmly, folding her slender hands. "Not surprisingly, he's in a thoroughly foul mood. He'd probably tear you apart if he could walk in a straight line without falling over."

Miroku closed his eyes. "Odd. I suppose he can't handle sake very well. I feel more or less all right." It was stretching the truth; he had a faint dull pain behind his eyes, but nothing that a little fresh air and water couldn't cure. He suspected that the hapless Inuyasha needed a lot more than that. "How foul a mood?"

"If you want to keep your head where it is, then don't go near him. The only people who can go near him are Kagome and-"

Sango broke off as a small moving object sailed over them, wailing all the way. Shippo landed in the dust and tumbled head over tail, right into a drainage ditch. Miroku winced.

"I stand corrected. He'll only let Kagome get near him," Sango said dryly.

*

I really do need to be a little more subtle, Miroku thought. He watched a dragonfly hop from one blade of grass to another, contemplating his next move.

It was early afternoon and Inuyasha was still hung over, groaning and crawling around the campsite. "Well, next time maybe you should stick to water," Kagome had been saying earlier. "Don't give me that look. Are you still feeling sick?" As the miserable half-demon sprawled out on the ground and let Kagome rub his back, Miroku and Sango edged away. It was a good idea to leave Inuyasha alone until he felt better.

"I see it's going to be necessary to try something a little different," Miroku murmured as he walked along the riverbank. "Simple, not very potentially harmful, and certainly something that he would be too dense-"

His thoughts were broken by a gagging noise. Inuyasha's legs and back were huddled up just outside the bushes, and his head and shoulders were completely hidden by the leaves. Kagome was sitting next to him, patting his back and saying, "It's okay, Inuyasha -- once you're done, you'll feel a lot better."

There was a wet, retching noise from inside the bushes.

"Or maybe you won't," Kagome amended.

Maybe he should try eating some grass, Miroku thought, continuing on his way. Kagome and Inuyasha hadn't noticed his presence, so he didn't feel that he should intrude. Besides, in Inuyasha's present state of mind, he might decide to rip Miroku to shreds. Even considering what he had been doing in those bushes...

Miroku smiled as he rememberede his embryonic plan. They would be at the inn in a few days, give or take, assuming that Inuyasha recovered fairly soon. The ancient innkeeper was an old friend of his, and had been a friend of his father before Miroku was born. And Miroku knew that the innkeeper would readily provide their group with the "special" room that villagers for miles around knew about.

No muss, no fuss, no problems, he thought. So simple, yet quite effective in theory. And I'm sure Inuyasha will like this a lot more than a drunken seduction. For one thing, less guilt, since he feels guilty so very easily. I'll have to go ahead on Kirara to get things ready for him and Kagome...

TO BE CONTINUED