Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own any of these lovely characters. Declaring such, I'm not breaking any laws or incurring the wrath of any lawyers(right?), so here's my next copyright-infringement free chapter. Enjoy!


It was still that dark and stormy night, even in the set of guest rooms in the Lady Kagome's mansion, though it seemed much darker and stormier than before to most of Miroku's servants, since he was now drunk, just like he usually was after someone threw a banquet for him. Therefore, all of his female servants were cowering in their respective corners and all of the male servants were bracing themselves for a rough night, excepting one... Inuyasha was also cowering in a corner, and the rest of the servants didn't blame him. Their master was past his "happy drunk" stage, where he made all sorts of lewd comments about the lady that he had met earlier in the day and laughed and giggled hysterically, and was into his "raving angry lunatic" drunk stage. Inuyasha was praying that Miroku had had enough drink that he didn't remember the happenings of the day. However, this hope was to be short-lived. "Bring Inu... Inuyasha here... to me." Miroku picked himself up from the pillows on the floor where he had lain sprawling and yelling for the past 10 minutes or so and glared at the bottle in his hand to try and focus his vision. Was this his... second bottle? No, it had to be more than that. His third? He shook his head and forgot all about the number of bottles when the women parted from a corner and shot sympathetic looks at Inuyasha as he walked towards Miroku and knelt before the table that held his master's cups and bottles.

Sweat was breaking out on Inuyasha's brow, but he hoped that his head was enough towards the floor so that Miroku couldn't see. Whatever happened, Miroku wasn't given to pity, except to women, and not even them when he was in his drunk moods, and any sign of fear or weakness would make the hammer fall even harder. Inuyasha's hands started to tremble on his knees. He wouldn't give in to fear... not now...

"I think you know how... why you're here." Inuyasha nodded, which was probably a good thing. Miroku didn't think that he could say the whole thing in this state of inebriation. "I sentence you to fifty... a hundred... no, fifty lashes with a whip. Outside!" Miroku pointed weakly. "Now! Kouga, you will be responsible for his pun... his punish... his sentence." And with that, Miroku collapsed onto the floor.

Inuyasha breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like one of the girls had learned from experience and slipped something into Miroku's drink. And with Kouga carrying out the punishment? This would be easy. He smirked to himself, then got to his feet with feigned fear as Kouga walked toward him, whip in hand, and dragged him towards the door by his long hair, kicking open the door and thrusting him out into the rain. As Kouga shut the door behind him, Inuyasha could hardly contain himself, and as the latch clicked, Inuyasha burst out into relieved laughter.

"Fifty lashes carried out by you!" Inuyasha giggled almost hysterically, "Damn, if I had know that before, ha, I wouldn't have worried one bit! Piece of cake, eh, Kouga? Way to fool the head bastard!" He broke out into more fits of laughter, but Kouga was staring at him stonily, whip still in hand. When Inuyasha calmed himself, he looked up at his old friend. "Hey, Kouga, what's wrong with you?"

Kouga sighed. "I'm sorry, Inuyasha, I can't let you off.

"What?" Inuyasha blinked. "I thought we agreed? You crack the whip, I scream, and everybody's fooled. Right?"

Kouga shook his head sadly. "It can't be like that anymore. The jig is up. Someone that doesn't like either of us figured out the ruse, and now if anyone reminds him, he's going to check for welts on you and bruises on me, because he knows that you would put up at least some of a fight, even for your best friend."

"Some best friend you are," Inuyasha growled, "Not even willing to take a tongue lashing for someone you've known your whole life"

"You don't get it, do you?" Kouga snarled in his face, pushing Inuyasha onto the soaking ground. "It wouldn't just be a tongue lashing, for either of us! Master Miroku would get one of his oafs to beat us both into the ground, if not something worse." He backed of a bit from Inuyasha and stared off towards the mansion. "He's one sick minded bastard, that Miroku."

Inuyasha was silenced, nodding in agreement, heedless of the mud quickly soaking through his clothes. It was a warm rain, and he didn't mind much. Then he smiled wryly. "I suppose I have to punch you, then."

Kouga chuckled and sighed. "Wait till after. The bruises have to be convincing, and you probably won't be so mad at me if you do it after."
Inuyasha grimaced and braced himself for the worst. At the first crack of the whip, he gasped in pain, and it was all downhill from there.

Kagome was cheerfully brushing out her hair before she went to bed. She usually had her attendants perform the task, but she was in an especially good mood tonight and she enjoyed the feel of her own shining black hair before she slept. Her crisp white sleeping kimono fell loosely over her and her deep sash was patterned with soaring white cranes and waterfalls. She sighed in contentment as she thought about her husband-to-be. He was very handsome, and he had a certain air of strength and authority about him. His servants always responded to him instantly and there was no doubt who was in charge of them. Kagome liked the idea of a strong man.
Just then she heard a noise, a sort of stifled giggling coming from down the hall. Kagome softly crouched near her door and peered through the crack a a trio of maids coming down the passageway, gossiping all the while.

"I do feel sorry for the mistress. She's star struck now, but wait till she finds out what he's really like!" One was giggling, merely a girl who should have been scrubbing floors.

"I'm surprised that she hasn't heard the rumors. That man has something of a reputation." Another nodded and agreed, a little more wide-eyed and timid.

"Don't you talk like that." The third maid, a wrinkled, grumpy creature, turned around and snapped at the other two. "The mistress marries who the mistress marries. Now go, shoo!" She brushed the others a way with a broom, and they scattered, scurrying off to their various duties.

Kagome paused at the door, wondering what to do next. Now she was suspicious, as well as curious. Was this Miroku really too good to be true?