I ask myself everyday why I agreed to marry him. I suppose it could have been his good looks, his charm, or his dependability to be there when you really needed him to be. If ONLY when you needed him to be. Maybe it was because I thought I knew who he was. Whenever I saw him it was normally during a fight with some demon, and that was pretty much the only times we interacted. I know he was a womanizer, despite the fact he was a monk.

So, naturally, when Miroku first asked me to marry him, I thought he was kidding. Even though I thought he was joking, the deepest part of my heart hoped he wasn't. That part shattered immediately when, soon after he asked me the question that I only dreamed of him asking me, he had turned around and grappled some woman's behind. Then, when she had turned around fully prepared to slap him, he grabbed her hand and asked her to bear his children. I literally saw red. Well, I actually couldn't really see anything because of the tears clouding my eyes.

I walked away, stubbornly wiping my tears away. He found me some time later, and apologized like there was no tomorrow. I told him I wouldn't marry him, ever, and he should just go swat some other girl butt to get over it. We didn't talk to each other for the remainder of our trip to Kaede's village, and our friend's had noticed this. They had been kind enough to voice their concerns to us, but I didn't really feel like talking about it, about him, about anything. That night I remember getting absolutely no sleep at all.

It took Miroku about a month to get me to start talking to him again. And even then I still regarded him as a perverted prick. Still he did try, I'll give him that. At first it started out annoying, then irritating, and somehow after that I actually thought it came off kind of sweet. He brought flowers, gifts, anything to try and get me back on his side. I didn't relent, knowing that in reality, I could never really have Miroku. He would always want a different girl; and that truth really stung.

Then, when we were defeating Naraku, I was injured pretty badly. Like, I couldn't even sit up right, and it had felt like every muscle in my body had been torn in half. I was unconscious for three days. When I did wake up though, the sight of a worried Miroku greeted me. It looked as though he hadn't gotten food, sleep, or fresh air since I went under. He smiled at me, relieved that I was ok.

What I really noticed while I was healing was that I had Miroku's focused attention. He was always there, asking me how I was whenever I woke back up. And whenever a girl would come in bringing fresh water, Miroku hardly glanced at the girl. She was very pretty; I can't believe he didn't ask her his signature question, or even swat at her butt. He had proposed to me again in that time, saying the L word and mentioning that he didn't know what he would do without me. I said I might consider it, and his face lit up like he had just gotten a present.

Once I was healed completely, and moving again, Miroku kept his hands to himself. I was really surprised at first, even if those hands wandered towards me twice as often. A few weeks later, he brought up his proposal again. I, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to marry him, and then we were married. Just like that. Well, it actually took about another month, but it all flew by rather quickly.

I remember the wedding night, maybe one of the most embarrassing nights of my life. As a demon slayer, I don't really have all too much experienced in other area. So when Miroku had coaxed me out of my wedding dress and into a bed, you really can't imagine how nervous I was. But, I suppose all of Miroku's womanizing years had at least given him experience, if anything. He was patient, slow, and it ended up being one of the most memorable experiences of my life.

It was also the most memorable because that was the night I first got pregnant. Miroku was practically bouncing off walls when I first told him. Though I know that deep down he wanted a boy, our first born was a girl, named Kiomi. He didn't act any differently, but I could tell he desperately wanted a boy. I told him a girl was just punishment for all of his womanizing ways. We laughed at that, the Miroku said, 'Well, let's work on making the second one a boy.'

Much to Miroku's chagrin, our second child was also a girl, and we named her Kumomi. I was very content with two children, since the man of the house tended to do nothing but laze around. He did occasionally change the girls, play with them and whatnot. Then, it was a winter night when Miroku wanted to snuggle closer to me for warmth. About nine months later, Miroku finally got his bouncing baby boy, and we named him Haji.

As much as I do love Miroku, he is the most horrible excuse for a husband I have ever seen. All he does is lay around doing nothing! He doesn't help me clean, cook, or do anything! I think he's actually go so far as to start hiding from me.

I sighed, a crying baby snapping me from my reminiscing thoughts of the past. I stood to take care of Haji, while absentmindedly looking around for Miroku. Probably hiding from me again. I tucked the baby in the crook of my arm and headed out towards the yard of our small home. I huffed as I found him lying against a tree, staring at nothing. I felt my anger rise at the fact I just cleaned an entire house by myself, and Miroku just took a nap! He was so not getting sex tonight.

"There you are Miroku!"