If Miroku had been given a choice to be whatever he chose, he probably wouldn't have picked a monk. Indeed, Sango seemed to think he had chosen the wrong path as she stood over him, raging at his most recent attempt at seduction. He heard Inuyasha scoff, Kagome sigh, and Shippou laugh. Eventually Sango felt she had said enough and stalked off. He was left staring into the blue sky as his friends discussed stopping for lunch.
He sighed. Was he cut out for being a monk? He had to admit, he had spiritual powers that others did not, and thus felt that he should make use of them. And the only way to do that was to be a monk or priest if he didn't want unsavory characters petitioning him for truly nefarious deeds. At least spiritual men usually seemed to avoid that.
No, no, it was better that he was a monk. He helped people. People believed him when he spoke. He knew what they wanted and he could tell them what they wanted to hear. It didn't hurt that he could scam a few families of ill-gotten wealth as well. He thought of it as karma.
And the ordinary people needed some kind of solace. War surrounded them, threatened them, from humans and youkai alike, and there was little assurance they would live well, if live at all. In his teachings, he offered peace. They could live meaningful, peaceful, pleasant lives. Well, when he actually taught. Most of his actual work as a traveling monk was done when he and his friends desired shelter.
He held his sealed hand in front of his face. How strange it was that he had been cursed and yet brought blessings to others. Did that mean his blessings were also cursed?
He quickly sat up. There was nothing to be gained from dwelling on such things. He knew this from past experience, past sleepless nights. He hurried to join his friends, adding his opinion to the chatter.
The thought would not leave him, though.
It followed him well into the night, and he decided to meditate to clear his head. It had worked before.
He sat near the fire and closed his eyes, bringing his focus away from the world around him and letting himself be at peace.
A log in the fire snapped and Miroku adjusted his stance.
Shippou mumbled in his sleep from where he lay snuggled against Kirara. Kirara growled in response, which caused Sango to move, which distracted Miroku as he wondered what falling asleep next to her would be like. Which had him thinking about marrying Sango, which included a family, which included the possibility that any child he sired would have the same curse he carried carved into their hand.
He took a deep breath and let it out. Thinking along such lines was not his goal. He desired peace.
Mushin had called this Zen Buddhism. There were many forms, and many places to practice those forms. He focused on that, on specific teachings, since his mind seemed determined to wander.
Kagome closed her school book and stuffed it into her bag, where it slid between packages of food and first aid supplies. She bid Inuyasha a soft goodnight as she tucked herself into her sleeping bag, asking him to wake her just after sunrise so she could start breakfast. Inuyasha had yet to take his customary position in the trees overlooking their camp and Miroku had the rare opportunity to hear Inuyasha actually respond in kind to their lady companion, a soft and somewhat longing goodnight with a promise that he would see her in the morning.
Miroku imagined a similar ritual he might share with the woman he loved. A whispered goodnight as others slept—perhaps their children—gentle smiles and the promise of a new, shared day on the other side of night. If he ever told Sango how he felt, that is, and if she ever believed him, and if Naraku was no longer a threat to their future and happiness, and if he did not fall asleep wondering if he would wake up or if the void would swallow him and all he loved in the night.
He let out a huff and opened his eyes. This wasn't working at all.
"Oi," Inuyasha said from his place near Kagome, quiet enough not to wake the others. Miroku looked over at him. The hanyou was frowning, but that really wasn't anything unusual. "Thought you fell asleep sitting up."
Miroku mustered a smile and waved his hand. "Oh, no, my friend, just meditating before I sleep. I really should get back into the habit."
One of Inuyasha's eyebrows climbed up far enough to be hidden under his bangs. "Seriously?"
Huffing, Miroku folded his arms. "Yes, I'm quite serious." Inuyasha's other eyebrow rose up as well. Miroku sniffed and turned to lie down. "I am a trained monk, thank you very much. I take my job seriously."
Inuyasha gave a bark of laughter that startled Shippou into sitting half up, still mostly asleep. Both Miroku and Inuyasha held their breaths, silently begging him to just lie down and go back to sleep. He did, mumbling about acorns. Both men let out a sigh of relief. If Shippou woke, he would wake Kagome, who would wake Sango, and eventually two grumpy and sleep-deprived women would make the next day a living nightmare.
Satisfied that danger had passed, Inuyasha turned his smirk back to Miroku. He didn't even say anything.
His hanyou friend was being entirely too smug for no good reason. Miroku made himself comfortable and closed his eyes. He ignored the low chuckle from Inuyasha as he jumped up and landed near silently on an overhead branch. It was not until the next morning that Miroku realized he'd fallen asleep without worrying about his curse any further. He smiled and considered the benefits of a particularly difficult friend when one needed a distraction.