Wind rustled the trees overhead. A bed of bark had been laid on the ground and nestled inside was a man forlorn. He hid his face inside his kimono reluctant to raise his wearied face to the sun. His scars ached and his wind tunnel had sucked the better part of his arm into itself.

Naraku will pay.

Inuyasha and Sango had left him weeks ago with Kagome to Tokyo. His Wind Tunnel ached harshly the day they left and this worried him. The monks he stayed with were particularly worried.

They had many conversations and all agreed that the time was drawing near when Miroku would be destroyed by his own wind tunnel. Naraku was said to be drawing nearer to the village, hunting for prey, and Miroku was determined to vanquish him.

The battle had gone badly for Miroku. He had his body mutilated to the point of death and had no energy to make it back to the town. He had just enough energy to plea for help and pray for Songo's safety (typical). He envisioned Songo would grieve horribly on his grave. Little as he knew that was all a fantasy.

The end was drawing near and his vision hazed. His shoulder was now a whirling mass of darkness that blended with the evening sky. All hope had slipped away and his breathing slowed. Blood cascading down his wounds, he took one last breath…

Before Inuyasha found him. Kagome healed him and they skipped down the lane and lived happily ever after forever sucking lollipops and gum drops rained from the sky.

Did you really think I would let that pervert die? I hope all you Miroku fans are happy.