Handed over

7 Reasons Why

Chalix

Disclaimer I don't own any characters originally created by Rumiko Takahashi in the Inuyasha manga/anime.

AN And really? I'm not this hentai...I'm just really trying to put Miroku's father in proper cough Hope you enjoy after the LONG period of absence. Oh yes, and just so know, because I'm obsessed, Youko Kurama WILL be guest appearance-ing later on. A few plot twists here! And yes, before you ask, "WHAT?!"at the end of this chapter, know that it will all be explained to your satisfaction. I hope. AND tell me what you think of what Naraku calls Miroku. I'm not so sure I like that name...but it was spontaneous. If you have any recommendations, tell me! Last note - forgive the short length of this chapter, the next WILL be longer, and come out sooner.

What a lovely night it had been! Finally, the real last innocent. No more, unfortunately. No more innocents and, well, no more innocence for her. In no more than two words and he'd had her down on the bed and -

And now, nine whole damn months later, he was staring - not gazing lovingly - staring, rather harshly, into the infantile eyes of his day old son, nicknamed Mi-mi by the mother, known as Miroku by the father, and non-existent to the entire rest of the world. Except, of course, to the promised one, by whom he would be called Hi'ichi in private and, spitefully, Miroku in public.

Not that the 'public' was built up of much more than the Western Lord, Sesshoumaru, - and, not to be forgotten, his servants, - Naraku's other pet Torikimi, - who had lived a relatively pleasant life in an unmarked village in complete obscurity until the age of 16 when Naraku had come for him, - and, perhaps, an old accomplice.

Yet the 'public' would not have a chance to greet the poor babe if the houshi didn't give him up first, and so the houshi, sulking, graced the shrine, where he had met Naraku the first time, with his wonderful presence, and that of his child. With only memories, much too recent for his liking, and infantile wails to keep him company, he settled down.

Not for long, however. He was up in no more than three heartbeats to pace around a washing fountain, carrying the babe across his chest.

"When I visit you next...when I visit you next...when I visit you next..."

The second visit had come and gone, no more entertaining than the first.

Today was the next next, the day his Miroku would be stolen away. Impatient as he was, the hentai monk waited ever so calmly in cold anticipation, a scowl blemishing his ravishing features for more than a couple reason. A couple was deemed to be two. Two reasons for his fury at the situation? Hah. No. He'd run out of fingers and toes, f'ck that, he'd run out of hairs to count the reasons on.

1. Depriving him of sex for that night.

2. Depriving him of sex for maybe more than one night.

3. Naraku had to use that condescending tone.

4. Stealing his son from him, that bastard.

True, he'd never kept in with past ladies about their affairs or if they'd gotten pregnant. Hell, he could have 27 (or more) sons and never know the difference.

Only thing he would say if asked was that his sons had all better be damned and downright handsome, no matter if they grew up with father or no father. Of course, he had, despite himself, become rather attached to his most recent tyke.

5. Had he mentioned the lack of sex?

Ah, a one track mind. Of course. Was that not what all men's minds were composed of? When and where? No need to ask what. Nor why. Who cared.

6. He had been forced to live with a woman.

Terrifying as it may have sounded, he had survived. But he did not think he could stand one more day of the ceaseless ranting and raving he found directed towards himself if he so much as looked at another woman.

It didn't stop him. After all, he could out run her any day. He still could have lived without the annoyance.

After all, why had Naraku required that he live with the woman? He could have just snuck in on the day it was due and whisked it off to his torturer. This was not just punishment for lustful desires. He wished to kick something.

7. Then, there was the...lack...of...

Oooh! Target practice! One flying Naraku coming right in! He was perfectly aligned and positioned and everything was perfectly set, one swift kick to the -

Oh, but he had forgotten the entire deal where Naraku could freeze frame his entire body. Life was shit.

The houshi was stuck in a ballerina like position, and his foot was starting to ache from balancing on the toe. He couldn't twitch a single blood cell.

"Tch tch tch. Now is that any way for a man to behave? It's really quite, inappropriate for one such as yourself don't you believe so? Ah, so that's the little monster. Oh, did I say monster? Forgive me, I meant to say there's the little tyke soon to become a monster. Such promising aspirations! Now, now, hand the little terror over..."

The houshi held out his arms, by force of Naraku, in offering of the babe, wrapped in the colors of his father's profession.

"Kukukuku...you are mine now," his voice dropped to a level which could easily be mistaken for a caring whisper, Naraku spoke to the babe of devilish plots that he would be raised with, a sadistic grin stealing over his features.

Miroku's father's stomach revolted against itself. Naraku, without a single look in his direction nor the slightest snap of his fingers, had wrought the houshi's insides with torment. The revelation that it would be the cause of his death was no new shining light from Kami. He had known. From the first day he had set eyes on his antagonist, he knew. Maybe not immediately, Naraku was always one for long lasting torture. He could expect nothing less than a week, nor more than a month of life. If that's what it could be called.

And then, all was missing. Naraku was missing. Miroku was missing. The fountain was missing. The ground was missing. A distant part of his conscious whirled confusedly. However, as it was his subconscious that was now in control, all he could feel was relaxation and gratefulness that it was all finally over. Was it not? He vaguely made a wish that it was so.

Somebody coughed. It was early morning, as was obvious by the gleaming moon shining through the open window. Despite the room being open to the cold, there was no chill draft inspecting his room and sending wicked shivers down his spine.

The cough came again, sounding louder than was normal due to the vast echo of the palace's structure and the otherwise perfect silence it had been uttered into.

Ok, once was bad enough, but twice? Did this person hold no consideration for the Masters of this place?

Miroku sat up, leaning against one of the bed posts and drew up a knee to rest his elbow on as he shook the last vestiges of sleep from his mind and prepared to berate, and possibly more, the perpetrator of the crime. The crime of waking him from his beauty sleep of course.

Stalking out into the hall, it was no surprise to see the two guards placed at his door...fast asleep.

It was not as if he needed the guards, he was well enough off to protect himself from any attack directed towards his person, but one had to keep up image. After all, what despicable, evil villain did not keep guards nearby who were obviously faulty at their jobs and were very good opportunities to practice torture techniques on? Especially youkai ones such as these, as they would heal within days, weeks even if they were hurt enough, and be in PERFECT condition for another round!

It was only with some shock that he came across the best servant of his household as the one who had caused the disturbance. Kanna.

Kagura would have liked him to think it was her, to take the pressure off of Kanna, but Miroku could sense a lie before it was even spoken. Or he was just a good reader of people's actions and reactions to certain events. Either way, he knew what was up.

"My dear, dear, Kanna, come with me. Why don't we get you something for that? So that we shall learn the importance of never waking up Master when he is enjoying his precious sleep? Shall we?" His golden earring swinging and gleaming in the moonlight, he beckoned with a nod of his head and turned to face away, signaling his readiness to return to his chambers. He extended his hand, and she took it without hesitation, knowing that the slightest misstep would earn her a worse punishment.

She may have been obedient to a point that she seemed a mindless robot, but that did not mean she did not think for herself or was stupid. Intelligence could be hidden, if it was never looked for in the first place. She would never give away her position. Guardians must never do that.

With that reminder to herself, she matched his pace as he led her back to his room for a few hours of painful promise. This was her destiny. To protect another, to give more of herself to him that she had of herself to give.

For the moment, she would put aside as much spiritual awareness as was possible, and allow her body to be abused by the one she had been assigned to and who she had grown to love, despite the flaws Naraku had ingrained so deep within, that they had become a part of Miroku.

Kagura should have counted her lucky stars she was not being punished as well for her insubordination, but instead she directed a wounded whimper to the heavens, keen and mournful.

Guardians, young ones even more so, should never be forced to endure such devil treatment.

Kagura did not care that Naraku would be the one to wake this time, and that the punishment would be more severe that simple physical torture, but that of the heart as well. Kagura wished for this punishment in retribution for her lack of protectiveness.

So, she waited. Waited, in the end, for nothing, as Naraku never came. She was sure he knew what she wanted and was purposefully disregarding her wish.

At the same time, her paranoid thoughts suddenly whirled to a halt. If Naraku could read her thoughts, then did he know that Kanna was secretly Miroku's Guardian? And she, Kagura, his?