Niroku's Story
Chapter 3: She Was Who?
Angel: I'm so happy! The Powers That Be have seen fit to add my story to the site! But I didn't get any reviews. Please help me out! Even if you just say you hated it, give me some input. Anyway, this time, Niroku has requested to do the disclaimer!
Niroku: Bri—I mean Angel doesn't own any of the characters from Inuyasha. She says Maraku and I are "her characters," which means she owns us. I don't know what makes us her characters, though. She won't tell me.
Angel: And with good reason! Enjoy, everyone!
Miroku woke half a step from screaming that morning. His nightmare hadn't involved the Kazaana, for once. No, it had been worse. That beautiful woman that had told him "Of course," had graced it, but then she had turned into Naraku! And they had just kept on… Miroku shuddered to think about it. He didn't have time to brood, however, because screams were coming from outside.
"Would it be too much to ask you to kindly shut up?" he yelled, stumbling outside, still rubbing his eyes.
"Ah, the monk. It's you I'm to kill," a boy, about ten years old by the look of him, said casually. He pulled the prayer beads from around his palm, and there was a dark hole in it that began sucking in everything around him. Everyone frantically tried to find something that would anchor them against the ruthless winds.
Then it hit the monk like the Hiraikotsu. That girl… That dream! It had been Naraku!
"No!" Miroku yelled. "It can't be! You can't be…"
"Can't what?" the boy, who I hope you all realize by now was Niroku, asked with all the innocent curiosity of an inquisitive child.
"I am your father," Miroku admitted.
"No, Naraku is my father," Niroku protested.
Everyone looked at Miroku, inquiring silently what was going on.
He blushed bright red for the first time in his life. "I was restless one evening, so I went to the tavern to drink it off. I met this absolutely beautiful woman and asked her to bear my child."
Sango growled something unintelligible and threatening under her breath. It contained the words "monk," "pervert," "never learns," and "hurt him."
"That was Naraku, I suppose. She agreed, and—yes. The rest you can imagine," Miroku finished hurriedly.
"As if we'd want to," Sango muttered.
Miroku took her hands. "No need for jealousy. My offer is still open."
The slayer's only answer was a resounding slap.
"So that's why I don't have a mother," Niroku said thoughtfully.
"What's your name—" Miroku had to force the word out—"son?"
"Niroku, and I am not your son." The boy looked up at the monk, mistrust in his eyes. "I don't know you at all. I just came to kill you." The boy began to release his Kazaana again.
"Niroku! Your orders have changed. Come with me," a girl called from her perch on a tree branch, balancing precariously where she never should have. Niroku had never seen her before in his life. She resembled him quite a bit, with the same snow-fair skin and rather pointed features. Her eyes were amethyst-violet, though, with silver specks that caught the sunlight and made them shimmer.
Besides, Niroku thought angrily, who's to say Father didn't have a hundred children like me? She may be just another one.
He followed the strange girl, fuming, and so not wondering why he would have been pulled out of a mission for the first time. Foolish, really.
To Be Continued…
Angel: So, how'd I do this time? Well, I hope! Please press the pretty purple button and tell me what I'm doing wrong. Also, the story's plot isn't set in stone yet (my minions are having trouble with the chisels), so if you have any ideas, that would be much appreciated, too.