--Respect, Part II--
Normally warm violet eyes glared at the poised young man, the gaze steely and unflinching. After some moments, the boy began to shift uncomfortably, trying to pretend that the older man's gaze wasn't still locked on him. As Miroku got to his feet, he fingered his staff lovingly for a few moments before speaking.
"You know, boy, the staff of a monk has many practical uses." The young man nodded eagerly, simply grateful for the moment that the awkward silence had been broken. "It is his best friend in every battle, always at his side, always able to be depended on. In fact, besides from being a great tool, the staff is a deadly weapon, always used for protection." Suddenly, Miroku's arm flicked forward, and a split second later the staff was embedded in the opposite wall, quivering gently- not unlike the now-nervous spectator.
At that moment, Sango and a tall young woman walked into the room, the girl dressed with exactness. "Ah, father, you're home!" Miyuki greeted him with a kiss before turning to the boy with a smile. "Are you ready to go?"
As the older couple watched them pass from the window, Miroku noted with satisfaction that he had never seen someone walk so quickly in his life.
A/N: Hooray for double standards. (snicker)