DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the characters herein portrayed, nor do I profit from this story. It is a work of fan fiction, for the enjoyment of anyone.
Beyond Belief
Sango had gotten a good blaze going, and turned around as the group entered the hall. Seeing the dripping, motionless form cradled in Inuyasha's arms, her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth. "Houshi-sama!" She sought out Kagome's eyes as Inuyasha gently laid the monk on the ground. "What happened?"
"It was my fault," sniffled Shippo. "He saved me from a tree branch that blew in. It hit him instead!" He burst again into tears.
Kagome tried to comfort him as she knelt and began digging through her backpack for supplies. "Come on, Shippo. You know you didn't mean for him to be hurt." She produced the one remaining blanket, as well as some gauze and tape. "Sango, get me some water to wash his wounds; Inuyasha, when I'm done I want you to get him undressed and wrapped in this blanket."
"What?!?"
Kagome blushed furiously. "Well, he'll go into shock if he lays there much longer in those soaking robes! Ever hear of hypothermia?" A sly look , "Do you really want me and Sango to do it?"
Picturing his love-interest seeing that pervert naked…"No, no. I'll do it," he huffed.
Sango returned with the water, and their monk was quickly bandaged and bundled in the blanket near the fire. The ashen gray pallor to his features was slowly replaced by a more healthy shade as his body began to warm, even though he was still comatose. Kagome sat back on her heels, satisfied that there was nothing more she could do for the time being. Sango settled next to Miroku, dabbing his forehead with a damp cloth and willing him to wake up.
"Let's go get the rest of our stuff, Inuyasha." Kagome pulled his sleeve towards the tunnel. "You, too, Shippo. It'll only take one or two trips that way."
Shippo's eyes shifted from their focus on the unmoving form, glad for something constructive to do. "OK Kagome."
"We'll be right back, Sango." Sango merely nodded, acknowledging the statement.
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Out in the entrance cave, she found Inuyasha staring out at the storm. His black hair whipped about in the wind. "Sun's down," he announced unnecessarily, as he turned towards her. His torch lit the grim lines in his face. "Let's get our stuff and head back; we can come for the rest of the wood if we need it." Going to the sheltered corner where their blankets and dinner sat, he picked up two cups of ramen and handed them to the kitsune who had followed. "Here, Shippo, you carry these."
Just then the earth decided to mimic the ocean. Beginning with a snap, the ground began to undulate and roll, cracking rock walls and floor alike.
"Down!" cried the transformed hanyou, tackling Kagome to the ground and shielding her with his body. Dropping the noodle cups, Shippo cowered next to the pair. Stones cascaded all around the trio, but miraculously none of the larger ones actually struck them. Nevertheless, the earthquake seemed to last forever, and all three of them were quite bruised by the time it was over. Finally the sounds of groaning earth and falling rock gave way to the howling wind of the ongoing gale.
"This is ridiculous!" exploded Kagome, lifting her head. "I've heard of 'acts of nature' before, but come on! Who ever heard of a typhoon and an earthquake at the same time?" She found herself furious at current events, simply because they were so utterly beyond her control.
"Are you all right?" asked Inuyasha, as he clambered to a standing position, rubbing an aching shoulder where a particularly jagged stone had struck. He held out the other hand to Kagome, gently helping her to her feet. His eyes studied her minutely, searching for any trace of injury.
She felt her anger draining away in the face of his concern. "Yeah, Inuyasha, I'm just mad at Mother Nature. I mean, don't we have enough forces pitted against us already?" She dusted her short skirt with her hands, then knelt to where Shippo sat crying on the ground. "How about you, Shippo? Are you OK?"
"Ye…es." he sniffled. "B…but I dropped the noodles."
Kagome hugged the demon child to her chest like a rag doll. "Oh, don't worry about that. You're all right, aren't you? You weren't injured?"
Wide-eyed, lower lip still trembling, he shook his head. "I'm OK." he managed in a small voice.
She stood and smiled. "How about you, Inuyasha? Are you hurt?"
"Nah." Realizing that she was pointedly staring at the shoulder he was unconsciously massaging, he hurriedly dropped his hand.
"In your current form, you could be killed just as easy as me you know!" This had just dawned on the schoolgirl, and she sublimated her concern into more familiar channels.
"Oh yeah? Well at least I…" the escalating argument was cut short by a quiet question from the kitsune.
"I wonder how Miroku's doing?"
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Miroku was still oblivious to his surroundings, therefore the earthquake hadn't bothered him a bit. Sango, on the other hand, was quite disturbed. She had unknowingly mimicked Inuyasha; at the first tremor she had thrown her body over her unconscious charge, shielding him until the worst was over. Raising her head slowly, she shook the dirt out of her hair and cautiously looked around the cavern. Other than a few fallen stalactites, little change was immediately apparent within the fire's illumination. She gradually became aware of the monk's warmth beneath her, as his chest steadily rose and fell. His skin was surprisingly soft to the touch, and sent a shiver through her. He smells like sandalwood. Blushing, she scooted off to sit beside him again. Thank goodness he didn't wake up just then! What would he have thought? Her eyebrows drew together in annoyance as the answer occurred to her. Glancing down at his sleeping face belied his traditional behavior. Kami, he looks so innocent when he's unconscious! She smiled to herself. Maybe that's why I slap him senseless whenever he's inappropriate…
Just then the object of her contemplation began moving his head and muttering under his breath. Not quite catching the words, she leaned in closer.
"…bear my child?"
She sat up abruptly. Even in his dreams he's a hentai! I wonder who he's propositioning this time?
Miroku's canary-eating grin faded and he became more restless, rolling his head from side to side in denial. His dreams had clearly taken on a darker tone. "No…no…Father!.....Let me go, Mushin! Father!.....NO! Nonononono……" His voice rose to a hoarse anguished cry, then trailed off.
Sango grabbed his face between her hands to still his writhing. He must be remembering his father's death. "Shhhh, houshi-sama, it's all right. Shhhhh." He'll hurt himself if he keeps flailing about like this.
His eyes were tightly shut, eyebrows drawn together in the grip of his mental imagery. Sweat stood out on his forehead against the still-damp locks of dark hair plastered there. His head struggled weakly in her grip, and his shoulders began to shift as well. "Shhh." she repeated. "I'm here…." Grabbing his shoulders, she used her not-insignificant strength to try to still the monk.
"No, no….Mushin…" Still remembering childhood traumas, he was thrashing more violently despite Sango's reassurances, and she was desperately afraid that he might worsen. She wasn't certain what came over her just then; perhaps his expression of loss, or perhaps his overwhelming need for comfort. Whatever the reason, she suddenly found her lips on his. He tastes like pears and sunshine…
Even comatose, Miroku responded to some degree. His flailing struggles calmed as his subconscious mind suddenly switched tracks; his brow smoothed along with his expression. As Sango sat up again, he lapsed back into his previously dreamless sleep.
Shocked at her own boldness, she turned scarlet as she spoke to the insensible monk. "Now I know you're really out; you didn't even try to grope me just then!" When no response was forthcoming from the injured man, she pursed her lips and glanced towards the passageway to the outer chamber. I wonder what's keeping the others?
Tucking the blanket around his shoulders again, she gathered a firebrand for light and headed toward the passageway.
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"Oh no, it's blocked!" Kagome stared in disbelief at the rock fall jamming the entrance to the inner chamber. "How are we going to get back in?" The narrowest portion of the tunnel appeared to have collapsed in on itself from floor to ceiling, making an impenetrable wall.
Inuyasha strode forward determinedly. "Well, we'll just clear it!" So saying, he scrambled forward and pulled off one of the stones, tossing it behind him. Kagome, recognizing that nothing else could be done, began working on the other side, while Shippo started on the smaller ones. An hour of back-breaking work resulted in a sizable pile of displaced rock, but no end in sight. The more stone they removed, the more there was beyond it.
"Inuyasha!" called Kagome. "Let's take a break!" Her dusty face was streaked with sweat, and she was shaking from exhaustion. Shippo didn't look much better, covered head to toe with dirt and grime, making his clothes a uniform brown.
Inuyasha took all this in as he glanced down at her and nodded, containing his frustration. If he had been in his normal form, they'd already be with Sango and Miroku. As it was….he stared at his blunted, chipped, human fingernails in frustration. His shoulders sagged as the three of them went to the corner of the cave by the fire.
Kagome added some wood to the fire they had rekindled once they realized they were going to be here for some time, then heated some water. Adding it to the now-soggy ramen cups that hadn't spilled, the three managed a late dinner in relative silence. The storm still howled outside, and the blustering wind swept inside more frequently. While trying to clear the passageway, they hadn't noticed the falling temperature, but now they felt chilled.
Kagome gathered one of the blankets from the corner, folded it, and laid it near the fire. Gesturing to the despondent kitsune, she said gently, "Come here, Shippo. We're not going to get much else done tonight. Why don't you try to catch some shut-eye?"
Shippo crawled over and collapsed on the blanket. "I'll try, but I doubt that…." He was asleep before he could finish the sentence. Kagome stared at him fondly for a moment before turning back to Inuyasha.
"I don't think we're going to get much done tonight." She said gently, sitting next to him.
He couldn't face her. "Not in my condition, at any rate." He was disgusted with his weakness. When they finally got the jewel….
"Oh, Inuyasha." Her voice carried compassion that he didn't want to hear. He started at the soft hand placed on his shoulder. "We're just tired. Yes, you'll be stronger in the morning, but so will I. There's no shame in it."
Frustrated, he turned toward her abruptly. "Yeah, well I'm useless like this! I can't protect you from anything, I can't save the bouzo, and I can't even clear away a few rocks!"
She thought about mentioning that he was in his hanyou form when Miroku was injured, but decided against it. "That's life. There are things we just can't control." She gestured to the still-raging storm for emphasis. "So you'll do like all human beings – deal with it."
He dropped his head in defeat. "Yeah, well…"
"I know. I'm worried about Sango and Miroku, too."
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Sango had found the corridor blocked as well. Having traveled three-quarters of its length, she suddenly came upon the occluding debris extending from ceiling to floor. Narrowing her eyes, she pondered the obstruction for a few minutes, determining the safest way to start clearing it without bringing the roof down on her head. No doubt Kagome and Inuyasha were working at it from their side, but if one of them had been hurt…she quelled the quiver of fear she had at that thought, and set to work. It felt good to be doing something productive, but it didn't require much thinking. That left her mind free to consider other things.
Why in heaven's name did I just kiss him? I took advantage of the monk! Now who's the pervert? She felt her face flush, and not just from the exertion of moving rock. Yes, it did calm him, but is that any excuse? What would I have done if he woke up?
Tell him what happened, replied a calmer internal voice.
Why did I do it?
You know why, answered her rational self.
To keep him safe?
No answer.
Because I love him?
Her subconscious heaved a sigh. It's about time you were honest with yourself.
But he's a monk! A hentai monk, but a monk nonetheless. Wouldn't it be sinful to join with him? Her hands kept shifting stone from the passage as she considered her relationship. Admittedly, I'm not Buddhist, but still…
She took a breather, and went to check on the object of her consternation. Miroku lay as she left him, cocooned in the blanket next to the fire. Sango was worried about the holy man, much as she hated to admit it to herself. For all his faults, he still never hesitated to put himself in harm's way if one of the group was in danger. She frowned; if only he weren't such a womanizer! Of course, who can blame him? He's trying to fit as much living into the little time he has left as he can. She became more dejected. And it's not as if he has a lot of alternatives; Kagome is clearly taken, and I…I am more of a comrade-in-arms than a woman to him. Except for his groping, I wouldn't even be sure that he actually noticed that I WAS a female of the species! He seemed relatively peaceful, so after adding a little wood to the fire, Sango went back to work.
Of course, there are Buddhist sects that allow their practitioners to have wives and children; clearly both his father and grandfather did. And if it were sinful in his religion's eyes to make love, then how could he summon the power to make the ofuda work? I know their effectiveness is directly proportional to the holiness of the user. All the meditation in the world wouldn't purify him if he believed his actions to be wrong.
A new thought occurred as she carried a particularly large rock back to the main cavern. But, does that mean that hitting on all those girls is acceptable behavior? That can't be right. So how does he manage to make his ofuda so powerful? Are the gods rewarding him to compensate for his shortened life? Or does the shortened life itself justify the behavior? Maybe because it is his 'duty' to his ancestors?
Prying loose another boulder from the pile obstructing the exit, her eyes widened. So if we defeat Naraku, and his Kaazana heals….he won't be able to be a hentai anymore! Otherwise, he not only loses the weapon of the wind tunnel, but the magic of the ofuda.
Her brows drew into a frown. But then, once we defeat Naraku, he won't have any reason to fight demons any more. And powerless ofuda are still good for a night's lodging and protection from imaginary 'dark clouds'. He could spend the rest of his life wandering from town to town, engaging in numerous trysts with innumerable women, each more beautiful than the last…My life will always be as a demon-slayer. When my family and village are avenged, it will be safe to reestablish it, and train a whole new generation. As we've already seen, when Naraku disappears, the demon population comes out of hiding. The services of my kind will be more in demand than ever.
Would houshi-sama want a working life of fighting and danger when he could con his way into one of luxury and decadence? She sighed despondently. No, probably not. But my duty is clear.
Why do I love him, anyway? This question took some pondering. I guess the longer I know him, the more good qualities I perceive. At first, there was just the frivolous, womanizing, thieving con-artist, because that's the image he projects. But then he slips and shows us the brave warrior, or the holy wise man, or the stalwart companion…after a while, the good qualities begin to outweigh the bad. The whole reason he's hurt now is that he saved Shippo from injury, without any thought to the fact that the demon-child would have recovered much faster than he himself. As often as I remind myself of his reprehensible character traits, the fact remains that I do care for him deeply. In the mountain, when I thought he was dying and he told me to go on and save myself, I realized that I would rather die with him than live without him. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of admitting this aloud; I'm surprised that Houshi-sama bought my 'I don't remember' act afterwards. He could have held that over my head for weeks, making me the butt of all kinds of Hentai jokes. After all, with all those beautiful women falling all over him in every village we visit, why should he especially care for me? She flushed again. I'm everything a woman shouldn't be; strong, self-sufficient, able to protect myself and others…men feel inadequate, and I frighten them. I'm simply not 'feminine'. Still, I'll never be a shrinking violet; I'll always speak my mind when I disagree with a man's opinion, and that's hardly customary. On top of all that, she thought dejectedly, hurling another stone from herself, I'm not very pretty. I have scars over my entire body which are hardly attractive, and I'm constantly adding more to the collection. As I rebuild my village, that will certainly not change. What would a charming, handsome, perverted monk want with me? A quick, convenient fling when we're between villages? He'd just discard me when another pretty face came along.
No, best to leave well enough alone. I'll keep denying my love for him, and repeating his less admirable features both to myself and aloud.
Perhaps I'll come to believe it.
She was sweating profusely an hour later, and paused to wipe her forehead. She had been checking on the comatose monk every fifteen minutes or so, but the delirium had not returned, and he remained frighteningly still. Heaving one last rock to the ground, she turned back to the main chamber to make certain Miroku was still safe. Her train of thought was suddenly disrupted by a cry of pain from the main chamber. Heedless of her footing, Sango broke into a run, panicked that Miroku had awakened alone and had managed to injure himself further.
Upon reaching the cave itself, the sight that met the taijiya's eyes confirmed her worst fears. "Houshi-sama!" she cried. The monk was sitting upright, cradling his left arm in his right and rocking back and forth, keening quietly in pain. He was still unclothed, and her heart fluttered both in fear for his welfare and for a reason her mind refused to acknowledge. The blanket was in disarray, although it still inadvertently covered what it must for modesty's sake, and Sango was unsure if she was relieved or disappointed. She rushed over and knelt by his side, squelching the blush that was invading her cheeks.
Miroku's head hung so that his hair obscured his eyes, but came up slowly when Sango touched his arm. His face was clenched in pain as clouded eyes sought hers. "Hurts…" he managed to mumble, indicating his arm.
Putting on her gentlest demeanor, she murmured, "Let me see." Prying the tense fingers off the arm, she was relieved that the injury was much more minor than she had originally imagined. The skin of the outer arm was reddened from a burn, but not blistered or raw. Clearly he had begun flailing again while she was working in the tunnel, and had struck a hot faggot from the fire. The burn was enough to bring him to some semblance of consciousness, but under normal circumstances would be superficial enough that he wouldn't have even commented on it. Right now his emotions were unguarded, and all his confused mind could discern was that it hurt.
"I'll be right back with something to make it better." She promised, then scooped a washcloth out of Kagome's knapsack and jogged over to the spring. Dipping the cloth into the frigid water, she brought it back to the waiting monk. She took the arm again, then draped the material over the injury. His breath hissed between his teeth as the freezing fabric contacted his reddened skin, then his whole body began to relax as the heat was drawn out.
"Better?" she asked, seeking his eyes.
He rewarded her with a small, fleeting smile. "Yes, thank you." His eyes were confused, then narrowed in concentration. "Sango, right?"
She straightened in surprise. "Don't you know me, Houshi-sama?"
He studied her face carefully. "Yes, I think so. We're…fighting someone? Looking for someone?" He paused. "Looking for someone to fight?" he finally hazarded.
"Naraku." she muttered.
His eyes dropped to the ground in front of him in resignation as memory flooded in. "Yes, that's it. Naraku. And the Shikon no Tama." His eyes closed, and he wrapped his arms about himself as he shivered.
Mentally chastising herself for not noticing the chill sooner, Sango pulled the blanket over his shoulders again, wrapping it closely about his body for better heat retention. "Why don't you lay down for a bit and rest?"
He nodded tiredly and complied. Sango put her hand comfortingly on his forehead, then inhaled sharply in surprise. "Houshi-sama, you're hot!"
He chuckled wickedly as his lids slid shut. "Why thank you, Sango! You're pretty cute yourself!"
The demon-slayer's mouth twisted into a grimace as the joke sunk in. "Oh, Houshi-sama." she chided, tapping his cheek with a feigned slap. Taking the cloth off his arm, she headed back to the water source to freshen it up before laying it gently on his forehead.
"Mmm…nice" he murmured, as his breath deepened into a soft snore. She settled beside him, studying his sleeping face as she gently brushed the hair off his forehead.
What is it about him? she wondered. Why can't I deny what I feel? She frowned, staring at his somnolent features. And why can't I still the pounding of my heart when I see him in pain?
"Don't worry, Houshi." She spoke softly, so as to not awaken him. "Next time you awaken, I'll be right here." So saying, she prepared for a long night.