Role Model

Shippou was sitting on a rock, munching on a chocolate bar and musing. An almost mature guy like himself had to do a lot of both, especially one that wanted to become the great hero of untold power and having many fans.

He was looking at the rest of the gang doing their usual things around the camp, just a normal day of shard hunting.

He had no father anymore, no older brother or a cousin to give him advice and examples of how to achieve his goals. But he was a smart boy, he could figure out stuff by himself, using his great intellect.

Being powerful was actually easy. He had to practice a lot and keep an open mind so he could learn from all possible sources.

But becoming good with women... Hm, that was going to take more work and thinking than that. Everyone could be strong, provided they would train a lot.

He looked for to Miroku. After all the monk was proclaiming himself charming and having a lot of experience dealing with women. Shippou frowned at what was happening before his eyes.

Sango was slapping the half-conscious monk for his attempted groping.

'No, definitely not going that way,' Shippou thought and looked to the other side of the fire.

Inuyasha was pouting and readjusting his robes after being carefully wrapped in bandages by Kagome. The miko smiled at him and scratched behind his ear, whispering something Shippou couldn't hear from his rock. The hanyou looked sharply at her, as if ready to bark at her, but then blushed faintly and ever so slightly, leaned into her touch. Kagome's smile widened.

Shippou looked back to Miroku hastily apologizing to Sango before she could go grab her boomerang then again to Inuyasha, who was grumpily demanding ramen from the giggling Kagome. The kitsune didn't miss how his expression softened the minute Kagome's back was turned towards him.

Miroku had a silver tongue and knew how to talk to women, but he had little knowledge of their body language and seemed not to realize that personal space was a thing. Inuyasha on the other side was showing his feelings by his actions, but seemed to be too shy to actually say anything meaningful, unless cornered and without any way of escape.

Yes, being good with women was a real art, one that a man should perfect through his whole life. And there was no one real role model he could follow.