Chapter Text
Miroku knew that Inuyasha was not a subtle person, but he was surprised by his own apparent inability to do anything other than smile stupidly the entire day. They had slept almost until noon, utterly exhausted from the battle with Kouga and Kagura. Miroku woke to Sango stoking the fire, Kirara grooming herself by the door, and Inuyasha’s arm wrapped around his waist. It wasn’t the first time that Inuyasha had held him as he slept, but that usually occurred after excessive injuries to one or both of them. Miroku felt his face flush and he quickly hid behind his sleeve. He needed to pull himself together! But then Inuyasha grumbled in his sleep, stretching out before tugging Miroku closer to him. This drew Sango’s attention, and she sent Miroku an amused glance.
“Comfortable?” she mouthed silently.
Miroku glared at her. Slowly, he wormed his way out of Inuyasha’s grasp and climbed stiffly to his knees. He shuffled over to the fire, letting it chase away the chill of the autumn air and disguise the redness of his face.
“Now what?” Sango asked quietly. “We need a safe place until we’re in fighting condition again. Do we stay here?”
“There’s no rush,” Miroku pointed out. “We can stay here for another day until Inuyasha’s fit to travel and then find someplace more suitable.”
Sango nodded. “In that case, we had better find some food. There was nothing in the river nearby, and there are no villages close enough for us to buy anything.”
“We can forage a while,” Miroku shrugged. “Find some mushrooms or root vegetables, maybe track down a river or lake with some fish.”
“You’d better take Kirara with you,” Inuyasha cut into their conversation, pushing himself upright with his left arm. “You two are utterly useless at catching fish, and she’ll be able to sniff out anything else to eat.”
“She and I can go,” Sango said decisively. “Miroku, you can put the sutras back up after we leave. I don’t want any demons tracking us down, and besides, you two need to rest. You look awful.”
“I thought we looked gorgeous,” Miroku said, ostensibly offended. “Aren’t we gorgeous, Yash? Or at least ruggedly handsome.”
“I am not answering that,” Inuyasha said flatly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.
“I can answer, if you like,” Sango suggested with a wicked smile.
Miroku waved her off playfully. He got up with only a little groaning and pulled the sutras from around the doorway of the old rest house, letting Kirara outside. “Be careful,” he told the two of them as they left.
Inuyasha was staring at him when he turned back around.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“The hell was that?” Inuyasha asked, with none of the usual bite to his words.
“Sango needs to know how attractive we are,” Miroku informed him, kneeling down beside him.
“Miroku,” Inuyasha said in a low voice, his ears flicking nervously. “I don’t think I’m ready for anyone else to know about this yet. Hell, I don’t even know what this is!”
“We don’t have to tell anyone until we’re ready,” Miroku promised. “We can just see how it feels. Besides, I want you to myself for a while first.”
Inuyasha’s expression softened remarkably and his eyes shone. Miroku scooted over to his side, wrapping his arms carefully around the hanyou’s chest, mindful of his injuries. He rested his head on Inuyasha’s shoulder, feeling his arm come to slide comfortably around his waist. Happiness thrummed through him with every beat of his heart. It still felt unreal. He couldn’t believe that he and Inuyasha got to be like this together, even if it was only when the others were gone.
Miroku knew that he was a viscerally tactile person. He enjoyed to touch and be touched, and not only in a sexual way. In his many years wandering alone, physical contact had been rare and fleeting. His shoulder bumps and occasional hugs with Inuyasha had been desperately-needed sustenance for his touch-starved soul. And now, there was nowhere he would rather be, nothing he would rather be doing that cuddling up with this hanyou in an old abandoned house.
Hence why he couldn’t stop smiling.
He managed to maintain some semblance of poise when Sango and Kirara returned. He desperately tried to school his features into a pleasantly neutral smile as Sango cleaned the fish they’d caught and he cooked the mushrooms and few edible roots into something resembling a meal. They spoke as they ate, discussing where to go next.
“You mentioned the apothecary last night,” Miroku said to Sango. “Is it worth the risk to go back in the next few days?”
“We know that Naraku is watching us,” Sango said slowly. “It’s the only way he could have known about Kouga. It’s possible that he already knows about the town. It’s safer for everyone if we wait for the two weeks to be up and get everything in one trip. We already risk a lot by going back there.”
“Isn’t that old lady likely to sell off the poisons she made?” Inuyasha asked.
“If she does, then we will commission another batch and pay her extra for her troubles,” Miroku shrugged. “Sango’s right – we need to be more cautious than ever. We can’t risk establishing a pattern that Naraku might detect.”
“So we go back to when we first set out,” Inuyasha said. “We walk around waiting for a Jewel shard to pop up, or for another sign of Naraku.”
“What else can we do?” Sango sighed. “It’s impossible to make a plan of attack if we don’t even know where he is.”
They all knew the truth of her statement. As frustrating as it was, they needed to wait for their next opportunity to come to them. Normally, Inuyasha would be climbing the walls after the first day being stuck indoors, but for some reason – he knew the reason – he didn’t mind terribly this time. Sango and Miroku took turns going outside to wash their clothes or the cookware from the old house, to fetch water or firewood, or tend to their weapons, always with Kirara standing guard. When Miroku left, Inuyasha followed his every sound with keen interest. When Sango went, Miroku lay down next to Inuyasha and they held each other close. When they were all in the house together, Inuyasha slept in a pain-filled blur. His chest and arm ached. It didn’t take long for Miroku to notice.
“Kirara, would you be up for another trip?” Miroku asked that evening. “I want to see if there’s a willow tree nearby. The bark can be used to make a tea to treat pain.”
“If that’s for me, don’t bother,” Inuyasha said firmly, nervous about them straying too far at night. “I can deal with it.”
“You can, but you don’t have to,” Miroku told him gently. “We’re already stuck in this drafty old house. We may as well be as comfortable as possible.”
Inuyasha didn’t like it, but they left regardless. He was so intent on tracking them through sound that he didn’t notice Sango staring at him until it was too late.
“Do you think it’s likely they’ll be attacked?” she asked, one hand instinctively reaching for Hiraikotsu.
“Just about as likely as any other time,” Inuyasha grumbled. “They can handle themselves.”
Still, he didn’t breathe properly until he herd them touch down again after dark. He and Sango had been busy with not sulking while they were gone. Inuyasha had discovered that there were exactly fifty seven sticks in the fire. Sango had been a little more productive, as she'd asked to look over his Tessaiga again. Her expression of absolute heartbreak when she'd peered down at the untransformed blade had done wonders to his sullen spirit.
“Let it go, Sango,” he'd advised after watching her go at the sword for even longer than he'd thought she would.
“No,” she snapped at him. “I'm so mad right now.”
“It doesn't even matter if it's rusty in this form!” he tried to console her. “It's perfectly clean and sharp once it's transformed, and the rust doesn't even rub off on the sheath or anything. I think it's supposed to look this way, like it's camouflaged as a useless weapon or something. To keep random humans from trying to steal it or whatever.”
Sango completely ignored him save for a small growl, and continued frantically rubbing away the rust that had crept back along the blade suspiciously quickly. Inuyasha watched her with a small smile and almost managed to convince himself to stop straining his hearing for every little sound outside the rest house. It was difficult, when the sound of an insect moving along the ground was distracting him from the heartbeat he so desperately wanted to hear. But thankfully it didn't take long, and he found himself smiling all over again at the sight of Miroku waving a long strip of bark in the air triumphantly.
Miroku shared a laugh with him when he explained what Sango had been doing while he and Kirara were gone. He'd even managed to duck the buffing cloth that Sango threw at his head in response. Inuyasha laughed at the two of them until Sango threatened to push him into the fire, and they all settled down to Miroku's good-natured argument on why murdering one's friends was generally not acceptable in polite society. The willow bark tea didn’t taste as awful as Inuyasha expected, and it took effect almost immediately. He sighed contentedly and lay back on the ground. He usually preferred to sleep sitting up with his back to the wall, but the position bothered his injuries. Besides… Miroku lay down next to him, just barely touching, far enough away that it looked like it was unintentional. Inuyasha closed his eyes as his lips spread into a soft smile.
~*~
The next day was much like the last. By the afternoon, while Sango was mending Inuyasha’s torn robes, Miroku sat just outside the house, meditating. He claimed it was to ponder what to do next. Inuyasha knew he just needed to clear his head. The smell of arousal had been steadily rolling from the monk since morning, and it was getting cloying. Inuyasha was internally grateful that the renowned lecher hadn’t tried anything yet. There had been a few times, when Sango and Kirara were away, that Miroku’s eyes had darted to his lips and lingered. Inuyasha had always turned away.
Most of him wanted to hold the monk close and never let go, but at the suggestion of anything more intimate, he found himself shrinking back. The ghost of other lips still haunted him, the only other person he’d ever let so close to himself. He had truly loved Kikyo, and the kisses they had shared were seared into his memory forever. He wanted to experience that with Miroku as well, to touch him and feel him and taste him, but a deep, primal fear still held him back. It was stupid. He didn't want it to be that way. But he just couldn't force himself to push through it. He couldn't do that to Miroku. One day, he promised himself. He would make it perfect. He wouldn’t let this hold him back.
For now, simply holding the monk in his arms – or arm, rather – was enough to make him ache with happiness. He could feel it in his cheeks and his chest and his bones and his soul. He hadn’t known that was even possible before. He knew that if they carried on this way, Sango or at least Kirara would pick up on what was going on between them, and he tried to rein himself in. But his youki was humming just beneath his skin, begging and whining for more.
~*~
They were all happy to say goodbye to the old rest house when they were finally back on the road. After much discussion, they had agreed that moving out in the open before Inuyasha was healed was just too risky, so they'd stayed inside for five more days. Five. Wretched. Days. It had rained one night, and the holes in the roof left them all drenched and miserable for the next two days. There was a constant draft through the holes as well, leaving the humans constantly cold, but growing the fire too big had them all choking on the smoke. It was cramped and dingy and horrible. At least Kirara had gone out hunting on her own one night, once everything vaguely edible in the area had already been foraged. She brought home a wild boar, and they had feasted.
But now they were free, enjoying the fresh air and the feeling of truly stretching their legs. Inuyasha’s arm was still tender and fragile, but it had healed to the point where he could move it without problem and fight if need be. Miroku had wanted to give it another couple days, but Inuyasha had sternly informed him that if he was shoved in that box for even another night, he would rip them all to shreds. As it was, Miroku had dug an old suitou bamboo canteen from the rest house and filled it with another strong draught of willow bark tea. Inuyasha told him that he was being ridiculous – his arm was almost better! He also refused to wear the brace or sling outside, since if Naraku was watching them, he would take it as a sign of weakness.
However, by later afternoon when the rains started once more, and Inuyasha kept on forgetting himself and moving his arm as he normally would, he appreciated the monk’s foresight. Kirara found them a cave to hunker down in for the night. The wood that the humans gathered was so damp that even when Kirara transformed right over the fire, it refused to light. They were left with wet clothes and gloomy dispositions as they huddled together at the back of the cave, gratefully leaning on Kirara’s flank for warmth.
“Who would have thought this would be so glamorous?” Miroku grinned at his companions, who met him with glares of various intensities. “There should be a village nearby. We might make it there tomorrow if the rain clears up.”
“I’m not opposed to staying here until it does,” Sango grumbled. “I would like to be dry again at some point. Besides, we have no destination in mind. There are no Jewel shards around, and I can’t sense any demons in the area.”
“I gotta wonder about that,” Inuyasha said, absently playing with one of Kirara’s tails. “How has Naraku been spying on us and none of us noticed? He had to have been sending someone to do it, so why didn’t we sense ‘em?”
“He could be using a human,” Miroku theorized. “Perhaps he’s found another person like Kohaku, who can get nearby without us noticing them?”
Sango’s jaw clenched but she nodded. “It would explain how anything could get so close without any of use sensing youki or a strange scent.”
“It makes me wonder about Kagura,” Miroku said slowly. “Naraku was able to manipulate weak demons, Sango, Kohaku, Royakan, and even Sesshomaru into doing his bidding, yet Kagura seemed different. The same scent and spider mark, and yet she isn’t Naraku. Are they related?”
“What, you mean like his sister or something?” Inuyasha snorted. “Naraku ain’t even real youkai – he’s just a bunch of weak demons clumped together onto Onigumo.”
“Yes,” Miroku nodded. “Yes, exactly. He is made from many different parts, all bound together. What if he could remove one of those parts to create something new?”
The others stared at him, but he had a point. “Kagura was strong,” Inuyasha said warily. “If Naraku can create someone like her, we’re fucked. But I don’t get it – why now?”
“Right,” Sango said. “Why wouldn’t he have done so much earlier?”
“I don’t believe he was simply waiting,” Miroku sighed.
“You think he couldn’t before,” Sango finished for him. “He’s gotten stronger. Do you think it was from the Fuko spell? Absorbing the Kodoku?”
“It’s possible,” Miroku shrugged. “That was more than a month ago, but I suppose we have no way of knowing when Kagura was created, if she even was created. And we still don’t have a full grasp of Naraku’s abilities. Something feels strange, is all.”
“I’d feel better about all this if we knew what we were up against,” Inuyasha grumbled. “Give me a plain ol’ demon who wants to eat me, and I’m good to go. I don’t like all this trickery and deception.”
“At least it keeps things interesting,” Miroku offered, and they all sighed.
~*~
Kagura stood in front of Naraku, waiting for her orders. Storms of miasma clouds swirled outside. Something big was coming.
“With the blows that you received from Tessaiga, I was able to comprehend the power of Inuyasha’s sword,” Naraku said from his seat on the floor. “Go forth now, Kagura. Kanna has already been dispatched.”
Kagura’s eyes were drawn to the row of clay jars on the far side of the room. Naraku had said that Kanna was her sister. She didn’t know what to think. She felt no kinship to the strange girl that Naraku had spat out sometime before herself, but then again, there was little love to be had in Naraku’s den. From what she could tell, Kanna had never left the castle before. She was always by Naraku’s side, possibly even privy to his plans. Kagura had no such luxury. Her wounds from the Wind Scar had barely healed, and she knew better than to expect this plot to be any safer. She turned and walked from the room. Naraku may be displeased with her attitude, but they both knew that she had no choice but to obey.
For now.
~*~
Sango knelt by the lake, filling up their suitou canteens. Inuyasha was scouting the area for fish, while Miroku and Kirara were looking for edible plants growing along the water’s edge. They were fairly close to a village, but it would be better if they didn’t have to pay for more supplies than they had to. They still had to pay for their weapons, masks, and poison powders from the other town, and there was no guarantee of finding paying work between now and then.
Splashing coming from her left drew Sango’s attention, just as the man rushed at her from the fog-covered reeds further along the shore. She struck him in the head with the canteen she was holding and knocked him back into the water. Dark shapes emerged from the fog behind him, three more men, one of whom was on a horse and sported several bandaged wounds. The men on the ground bore bamboo pike staffs and were glaring at her menacingly.
“Who are you, wench?” the man on the horse asked haughtily, though there was fear in his voice.
“That’s what I would like to know” Sango said with forceful calm. She slowly knelt to pick up Hiraikotsu, not taking her eyes from the men, and added pointedly “You don't look like bandits to me, so I see no reason why you should be attacking me out of nowhere.”
“She’s not Koharu, my lord,” the man in the water spluttered, somewhat unnecessarily as he scrambled to his feet.
“And yet she is a beauty,” the man on the horse, the lord, leered. “Bring her with us.”
The men started forward obediently. “Come with us,” one of them told her sternly, reaching for her. “Resist, and you shall be forced.”
Sango kicked him soundly in the chest and sprang back, weighing her options. They were humans, so she didn't want to seriously injure them. But she would if she had to. Unfortunately, she lived in a world where she knew exactly what could happen to her if the wrong group of men caught her off guard. Still, she would hold back unless she had no other choice.
Apparently, Inuyasha had no such qualms. He jumped up from somewhere far behind her with a shout of “No you don’t!” His fist connected with the face of one of the men, before swivelling around and kicking the other two. He spun and leapt at the lord, punching him solidly in the nose with a cracking sound. The lord fell from his horse, which spooked and ran off. The men rushed to the lord, picking him up out of the water and exclaiming over his broken face.
“Forgive us, sire,” one of the men called over his shoulder as he ran past. Inuyasha snorted.
He waited for them to leave before gingerly clinging to his right arm. Shit. In the rush of things, he’d forgotten himself and swung with the wrong hand. Pain laced up his arm and the damaged bone ached. He didn’t think he’d caused any real harm - and it was worth it even if he did. Still, he needed to be more careful. He’d been so taken off guard that he’d forgotten to even think. He’d been wrapped halfway around Miroku when he heard the scuffle.
“What was their problem?” he asked, watching the men retreat.
“Thank you!” an unexpected voice replied from behind him, and he whirled around.
A young woman had emerged from the tall reeds beside Sango, maybe a few years younger than her. She was dressed in similar clothes, and her long hair was tied back with a light pink cloth.
“Was it you they were after?” Sango asked, seeing how she could be mistaken for this girl.
“I’m afraid so,” she said with a wry smile. Beneath the hint of humour was barely concealed fear. Whatever those men wanted from her, they both knew it wouldn't have been good.
A slight jingling sound drew their attention to where Miroku and Kirara were approaching, looking concerned. “Everything alright over there?” Miroku called out to them.
The girl gasped, and her face lit up. “Miroku!”
Miroku stopped, making a slight noise of surprise. Inuyasha and Sango both glanced between the two of them, suspicions raised.
“It is you, Master Miroku!” the girl proclaimed joyfully, running at the monk with her arms outstretched. “You came back! Miroku, how I’ve missed you.”
She pressed herself against his chest, clutching at his shoulders almost frantically. Miroku had a faint smile plastered across his face, but he looked rather lost. Inuyasha and Sango exchanged a look.
“I take it we’ve met?” Miroku said as the girl detached from him enough to peer into his face like she was drinking him in.
“I’m Koharu!” the girl announced, as though that explained everything. “Oh, Miroku, it’s been so long.”
“Koharu!” Miroku smiled warmly, gently touching her arm, though a slight waver in his voice betrayed him. “You don’t say! I almost didn’t recognize you. How very…providential meeting you like this.”
Miroku glanced nervously over at his companions. Sango was glaring at him with open suspicion, while Inuyasha… Well, Inuyasha looked struck. Hurt and anger and betrayal all swirled around on his face. Miroku gently pulled away from Koharu, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just kept staring up at him with shining eyes.
“You two know each other?” Sango prompted flatly.
“Master Miroku and I met three long years ago,” Koharu said wistfully. “You see, I had lost my parents and siblings in the war. The Keeper of the Oil took me under his care, but worked me day and night. It was hard work, and I was tired and hungry and cried myself to sleep every night. But one day, a wondrous day, Miroku came to our village.”
She glanced up at Miroku as though he had gifted her the moon. Miroku carefully kept his face smiling but blank. He was beginning to remember this story, and he didn’t like where it led.
“He was here to perform an exorcism. He was so kind to me! I had tried to run away, but I had no idea where to go. He found me hiding in the fields. He gave me his food and told me not to fear. He told me that I had my whole life ahead of me – I was only eleven then, after all – and that there were so many wonderful things I could experience. We spoke until evening, and he said that one day, we could settle down together. I would be his wife and bear his children.”
Sango reeled back, her eyes snapping to Miroku in horror. Inuyasha was rooted to the spot.
“I was so happy!” Koharu sighed dreamily. “Three years have passed since that day, and I have waited every moment for his return. I knew that he would come back for me – I believed it with all my heart.”
“You,” Sango growled, snagging Miroku’s wrist and dragging him away. “We need to talk.” Once they were out of earshot of Koharu, she turned to him with blazing eyes. “Explain, now.”
“It’s not like it sounds,” Miroku assured earnestly. “She was an orphaned child in a bad situation who was losing hope. I only wanted to comfort her. I swear, I didn’t lay a finger on her. I would never.”
“I should hope not!” Sango hissed. “How could you lead her on like that? Did you have any plans of actually returning for her? Any at all?”
“No,” Miroku admitted quietly, his eyes on the ground. “I only wanted to make her happy - to give her hope. I thought that with something to keep her going, she would be able to make it through the hard times.” He glanced up at her, begging her to understand. “I was fifteen, Sango. I didn’t know how to solve any of her problems, so I offered her the same thing that was keeping me going – the thought of a quiet life with a loving family.”
Sango’s eyes softened but she didn’t relent. “Instead you made her fixate on you for three years.” She shook her head and he nodded slightly in recognition. “You need to go out there right now and explain to her that you made a mistake, that you’re not going to marry her, and that she deserves better.”
“I will,” he promised softly.
Koharu and Inuyasha were still standing in silence right where they left them. Koharu looked nervous. “Is everything alright?” she asked, glancing between Miroku and Sango. “I don’t want to cause any problems.”
“You aren’t,” Sango said firmly, shooting one final glare at Miroku and shoving him forward with a firm hand on his back. “Miroku wants to speak with you, that’s all.”
“Oh, Miroku,” Koharu wailed. “I promise I’ve been good! I didn’t mean to cause trouble with those men.”
“What happened with them?” Miroku asked, concern colouring his voice.
Koharu stared at the ground, her expression closing off. “My master’s son has been leering at me for a while. My fears were realized last night when he tried to force himself on me.”
“So you ran,” Sango said, everything sliding into place. She wished she'd punched the man after all.
“Yes.” Her fingers plucked idly at her skirt, her expression pinched at the memory. “He'd cornered me and I couldn't get away. So I struck him with some firewood until he lay motionless.” She turned and threw herself at Miroku. “Please, Miroku, won’t you take me with you?”
“Koharu-” he started, but she cut him off.
“I have nowhere else to go!” she pleaded. “He'll kill me if I stay here. He'll say I attacked him for no reason.” Miroku bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. He knew the truth of her words. “Please! I’m an adult now. I’m able to bear your children!”
Miroku shrank back slightly under the force of the combined glare of Inuyasha, Sango, and Kirara, as well as the implications of Korahu’s words. He didn't know what to do, other than the obvious.
“Why don’t we get somewhere safe before those men come back?” he suggested calmly. “Then, Koharu, you and I can speak in private.”
Koharu nodded enthusiastically. She led them away from the nearby village, to an old storehouse by the forest. As she went inside, Sango grabbed Miroku’s arm once again.
“You realize we can’t take her with us,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
“But we can’t just abandon her. She’s still an orphan child.”
“Perhaps she can accompany us until we find a suitable family that can take her in,” Miroku suggested uncertainly, casting a careful look at Inuyasha. The hanyou refused to meet his eyes.
“At the very least,” Sango sighed. “She’s spent three years of her life expecting you to come back and live together! She’s still planning on raising kids with you!”
“I didn't even think about that part. I ask every woman I meet to bear my child,” Miroku shrugged.
“You never asked me,” Sango pointed out, pulling him up short.
“It’s not that I’m not interested,” he explained warily. “But I thought you might kill me if I asked.”
“You were right.” She sighed and ran a hand down her face. “Alright, I’m going to try to talk some sense into her. You go on to the village and see if anyone there would be willing to take her in. We need someone who will stand up to that asshole and his father.”
Miroku nodded, and Sango disappeared into the storehouse after Koharu with Kirara following them. Miroku turned to Inuyasha. The hanyou stalked past him without a word.
“Inuyasha?” Miroku called out after him, but got no response. Silently, he followed him into the village. He only hoped that he could repair the damage he had done.
~*~
“I’m so glad to finally see him again,” Koharu sighed as she and Sango sat by the water just outside the village. “I was almost starting to forget what he looked like. But he’s exactly as I remembered!”
“You really love him, don’t you?” Sango asked sadly.
“I know I can be a good wife to him,” she smiled, before worry clouded her expression. “You and he…”
“We’re friends,” Sango assured her quickly. “We hunt demons together.”
“I’ve never met a woman as strong as you,” Koharu said with admiration. “I bet you could have taken on all of those men alone!” She glanced out over the water. “I wonder what it will be like, to be married to a monk who slays demons.”
Sango followed her gaze. Suddenly, she could see why Miroku looked so frightened. This was an uncomfortable task. She didn’t want to crush Koharu’s hopes, but she didn’t want to encourage them, either. She only hoped that Miroku would find her a place to stay.
~*~
“Such a pity!” the Headman sighed forlornly. “Poor young child. You know, I lost my own daughter in the same war. Such tragedy.”
“So, would you be willing to take her into your village, shōmyō-sama?” Miroku pressed.
“I would be honoured!” the old man smiled. “We must look out for each other in these hard times.”
Miroku bowed deeply to the man, promising to bring Koharu to him as soon as possible. He seemed kindly enough, and he would be able to protect Koharu from any vengeance sought by the Keeper of the Oils and his son. Behind him, Inuyasha turned and walked silently away, following Sango and Kirara's scents to where they were with the girl. Miroku obediently went after him.
Koharu sprang to her feet when she saw Miroku, running up to him. “I was worried!” she said, holding on to his sleeve. “Your friend said that you had to attend to business.”
“Yes,” Miroku said grimly. “I was speaking to the Headman of the village. He has agreed to take you into his home, under his protection.”
Koharu stumbled back as though struck. “What? You mean, I can’t come with you?”
“It’s for the best,” Sango said, coming up behind her. “This will be a safe place for you to stay.”
“Please, no!” Koharu begged, pawing at Miroku’s robes. “I promise not to be a burden! Let me come!”
“It would be dangerous for you to come with us,” Sango tried, but Koharu wasn’t listening to her.
Miroku pressed his lips together firmly. “Koharu, come with me,” he said quietly, holding out a hand. She took it. He led them a ways away, under the shelter of a grassy hill, giving them at least some semblance of privacy.
“Miroku, I cannot bear it!” Koharu cried, clutching at his robes. “We only just met again. I can't bear parting again so soon!”
Miroku swallowed hard, guiding them both to kneel down on the grass. She pressed against his chest, and he held her close. It brought back a sudden memory, stronger than any other he'd dredged up thus far, of sitting like this once before with a crying child in his arms. Barely more than a child himself. Alone and struggling in a harsh world. Still trying to avoid coming to terms with the fact that, after four years of searching, he may never find Naraku. That he may very well die alone and unnoticed. Another child lonely and frightened, he had wanted to spare her that same pain. He'd never thought that the opposite could be just as dangerous.
“Please try to understand, Koharu,” he murmured, fighting to keep his voice level. “If you were to come with us, I can’t guarantee that you would be safe. I’m not sure whether I would be able to protect you.”
“I can be brave!” Koharu insisted. “I can learn to fight, like that other woman you travel with!”
“I am sure you could,” he said with a small smile, which quickly fell from his lips. “But the demon I pursue is more devious and formidable than any other.” He hugged her close. “It’s hard for me to say goodbye as well.”
At the crest of the hill, Inuyasha watched Koharu bury herself in Miroku’s chest.
“What are they saying?” Sango asked, watching beside him. “Is he trying to convince her?”
Inuyasha growled half-heartedly, his ear flicking.
Miroku continued to hold the girl close, and Sango scoffed. “He’s all over her! He’s only making her fall deeper in love.”
Inuyasha didn’t respond. He hated absolutely everything about this. He didn’t know whether to rip Miroku away from her and shout at him, to chase the girl away from him, or to simply leave and never come back. As it was, he watched as the two of them parted, still sitting side-by-side.
“But you aren't leaving forever,” Koharu’s voice rose with uncertainty. “We are only parting for now, like last time, right?”
“Koharu, listen.” Miroku tightened his arm around her shoulders and fought to keep his voice firm but gentle. “You are about to start a new life in a new village. I know you must be afraid – life itself is a frightening specter for us all.”
Inuyasha frowned. Miroku was staring straight ahead, not looking anywhere near Koharu at his side, and his heart was pounding. His scent was a strangled mess of a dozen different emotions, all saturated with a coating of disgust and fear. What was the monk doing?
“You’re not safe with me, Koharu,” Miroku murmured. “In my right hand is a hole capable of drawing everything in its path into the void. A wind tunnel, if you will. A curse was placed on my family in my grandfather’s time. Both he and my father were consumed by their curse. In time, I will eventually meet my own fate in the terrible nothingness of my own hand.”
Miroku knew that he was trembling, but he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t bear to meet Koharu’s eyes as he crushed her hopes. As he tried to convince her that he was dangerous – that he was a curse that she should not have to bear.
“I made the decision to use this terrible curse to help others,” he continued. “The wind tunnel allows a mere human like myself to take on demons, so I have come to think that my curse is also my greatest weapon, my greatest strength against evil. I had to make that decision, to bring my own death faster in order to help others.”
He could feel eyes on him, not just Koharu’s. The person he had been when he met her was gone. Back then he had been naïve, convinced of his family duty, and still acting as though sure that he would be the one to defeat Naraku and break the curse. That he could rid the world of a great evil and save his life, his bloodline. He had meant what he said to her – he had still been expecting to settle down, with someone like her if not her, to marry and have children and live a normal life. He'd thought he could save her, too, but the boy who had promised her the world had died long ago.
“Being strong in life,” he said softly. “It’s not easy. Overcoming uncertainty is difficult. My life is not a pretty one, Koharu. In it, there is ugliness and fear and pain. I would not wish that on you.”
“I can be strong,” she whispered.
“You shouldn’t face more than you need to,” Miroku said. “You've already been through more than you should have. My companions and I are strong because we need to be to face down this demon. You are strong because you had to survive on your own. This does not mean that you should seek out even more hardship. You deserve a husband who can provide safety and security. You deserve a real home. I can give you neither.” He held her back enough that he could meet her eyes. Suddenly, keeping her from him was the most important thing. “I know that you have waited all this time and I am so sorry for that. I cannot give back all the years you spent on me, but I can spare you any more in the future.”
“But I love you,” she said, looking up at him. “I will never meet another man like you.”
“That’s the point,” he told her. “You will meet someone who can give you everything you deserve. Please. This is your chance, Koharu. You can have so much better than this.”
Koharu nodded tearfully, rising to her feet. Miroku resisted the urge to embrace her again, knowing that it would only make it worse. She walked back up to the others and he followed, avoiding Sango’s sympathetic gaze and Inuyasha’s accusatory glare. They guided her to the Headman’s house, where she was met by him and his wife.
“Hello, Koharu,” the older woman greeted warmly. “My husband tells me that you need a place to call home. Well, as it happens, we need someone to call our child. Not right away, of course – we still need to get to know each other first – but no matter what, you are welcome here.”
Koharu nodded jerkily, tears in her eyes. “I would like to have a place,” she whispered, and glanced over at Miroku out of the corner of her eye. “I'm ready to start the next part of my life.”
The older couple each gave her an overjoyed smile, and the wife whispered conspiratorially to Miroku “I think she'll fit right in.”
Koharu smiled shyly at that, though her expression was still pinched. She followed the Headman's waving hand until she stood next to them both. The couple beamed at Miroku and each other, and something settled deep in Miroku's chest. When they tried to leave, though, Koharu wasn’t having it.
“Miroku, I’m begging you,” she said. “Won’t you stay with me one last night?”
“You heard Koharu,” the Headman smiled. “Won’t you stay the night? We must thank you properly for introducing us.”
“No,” Miroku said regretfully. It would mean sleeping outside, as it was already getting dark, but Inuyasha had yet to look him in the eyes since they came to this place. Besides… “I fear that postponing our departure will only make it that much harder for her.”
Tears burst from Koharu’s eyes and she stumbled into the house with a choked sob.
“Stay for her sake,” Inuyasha grumbled, glaring at the ground.
“One more night won’t make that much difference,” Sango added. “And besides, we’re the only people here she knows. It will help her settle in.”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Miroku said, aiming the question at Sango but really asking Inuyasha.
The hanyou growled softly, his ears twitching. He stalked past Miroku into the house, muttering “She’s still fucking crying.”
He followed the sounds through the house, coming to a stop in front of where she sat, curled into herself on the ground. He hated everything about this. He should be furious with Miroku – and he was, no doubt about it – but the misery leaking into his scent was messing with Inuyasha’s head. And he should hate this girl, this threat to the fragile thing that was his relationship with Miroku, but he didn’t. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t entirely Miroku’s fault, either.
“We’ll stay here the night and set out in the morning,” Inuyasha told Koharu firmly. “But no tears then, okay?”
She looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Alright.”
She ushered everyone inside and began asking the Headman where everything was in their house. He responded with good humour, and Koharu was delighted to find out about their bath.
“Can I prepare a bath for you, Miroku?” she asked eagerly.
“I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t impose,” he replied.
“It’s no trouble!” she insisted. “For you or any of your friends!”
Sango sighed, and she couldn't help but take pity on both Miroku and Koharu. “I’ll take the bath if he won’t, Koharu. Maybe you could bring him some hot water, though? He has a wound that needs to be cleaned.”
She scrambled to oblige, and Sango and Kirara followed her through the house. Koharu was talking rapidly about her plan to make them all a grand feast for supper, to thank her new guardians for taking her in. The Headman and his wife, who were watching the whole affair, laughed quietly together and informed Miroku that they were going to go take stock of their food supplies in case Koharu got a little overzealous. Miroku was left alone with Inuyasha.
“Yash?” he asked quietly, still not getting a response. “Please, talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say,” the hanyou snapped under his breath. “You’ve set her straight and we’ll be gone tomorrow.”
Miroku sat back on his heels, but he didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” was all he could offer.
Inuyasha stood up and walked out of the house, muttering that he was going to go catch some fish, since the Headman was being nice enough to let them raid his pantry. Miroku sat by the fire and wondered what on earth he could do.
Dinner was, indeed, a feast. It wasn’t as grand as some of the absolute banquets Miroku had been given from some of his wealthier cons, but the food was delicious. The looks Sango was shooting him had turned from irritated to gently amused as it became increasingly obvious that Koharu was still trying to impress him. She was attentive on all of them, if oddly quiet, and made sure that Kirara got an entire roasted fish to herself. The only one not enjoying the meal was Inuyasha, who was staring moodily into the fire. Miroku lowered his bowl as he finally plucked up the courage to ask what was wrong. But then, he felt it, too.
“We’re surrounded,” he warned the others.
Inuyasha grasped the handle of Tessaiga. “It’s strange. I don’t smell any demons.”
“If this gets messy, guard the house and keep them safe,” Miroku said to Sango as he followed Inuyasha to the door, and she nodded.
Countless villagers were approaching the house, wielding weapons, tools, and torches. Calls of “Kill them!” and “Beat them to death!” rose from the crowd, but their movements were slow and sloppy. They were coming from all directions, the clanking of metal and the villagers’ groans joining together in a cacophony of sound.
“What’s with these guys?” Inuyasha asked, looking around at them.
“They seem to be under some kind of spell,” Miroku warned. “Someone must be controlling them.”
Kirara darted out between them and growled at the approaching humans. Sango was behind them, Hiraikotsu in her hand. One of the village men raised his sickle and the mob rushed forward in an uncoordinated mess. Inuyasha leapt forward to meet them, knocking a row of them to the ground, caught another as he rushed and him and flung him aside. He threw another man at a cluster of villagers, using him to knock the others down, but there were so many!
“Inuyasha, they’re only mortals,” Miroku warned as he pushed several away in turn. He caught one on the back with the flat of his staff. He was holding back, trying not to hurt them. Stupid. He'd get himself killed like that.
“Yeah, I figured that out,” Inuyasha growled. He struck or kicked at the villagers, trying to knock them down just enough to keep them from getting up again. It was hard to judge how hard to go. Miroku and Sango were on either side of him, while Kirara circled the Headman’s hut, keeping any of them from finding their way inside. They were able to hold them back, but they wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace forever. Whoever was controlling the bumbling mess of humans was nowhere to be seen, and there was no clue if there would be more coming at any time.
“Help!” a shout came from inside the house. Koharu appeared at the door, looking out at them frantically. “Something dreadful has happened!”
Sango nodded at Miroku and followed Koharu back into the house. She kept the girl behind her while Koharu told her which way to go, leading her deep into the house’s interior. When Koharu nodded at one of the doors, Sango motioned for her to stay back and burst into the room. The Headman and his wife lay motionless on the floor.
“What did this?” Sango asked, looking around, but there was nothing else in the room.
“A demon!”
“What kind?” she asked. “What did it look like?”
“I don’t know,” Koharu shook her head. “I only caught a glimpse of it.”
Sango’s frown deepened. Inuyasha hadn’t smelled a demon, and neither she nor Miroku had sensed one. Even now, there was no trace of youki around except for Inuyasha and Kirara. Sango stepped forward to check on the old couple lying on the floor when a faint shadow appeared on the other side of the screen wall. Sango quickly slid the door open, revealing the figure of a young girl, maybe ten years old, with pure white hair and startlingly black eyes, dressed in a white kimono and holding a round, silver-framed mirror. Sango lifted Hiraikotsu, but the girl vanished into thin air.
“Stay back!” Sango ordered Koharu.
The girl appeared again behind them before disappearing once more. Sango whipped around, uneasy. She’d never encountered a demon like this before – was she even a demon? There was still no demonic aura around this strange phantom child. Maybe she was a ghost, but there was no way any kind of spirit could be behind the villagers’ attack.
The moment the girl appeared again on the other side of the room, Sango threw Hiraikotsu at her. The girl held her mirror out in front of her, and the Hiraikotsu struck the invisible barrier which stood around the child. The weapon caused sizzling bolts of energy to leap from the barrier before Hiraikotsu was hurled back at Sango with alarming speed. Sango ducked, but it was too late. She felt Hiraikotsu clip the side of her head, throwing her back. She gasped, her vision going black before slowly returning, faded and blurred.
Sango pushed herself onto her forearms, focusing her eyes on the white blur moving towards her. She had to get Koharu out of there! She had to warn the others! Sango tried to move, but her body was unresponsive and her head pounded. She'd been hit with the blunt inner wall of her weapon, but the force was enough that she could feel blood pouring down her face. She didn't have long left before the head wound took hold and she wouldn't even be able to stand.
The demon girl came to a stop in front of her, and her mirror began to glow. Sango caught her own wide-eyed reflection in the glass, saw the red painting her face, and saw the white light begin to emerge from her body. As what she assumed was her soul began to flow into the mirror, Sango struggled to keep conscious, but it was a quickly losing battle. She could only gasp as her essence left her body and darkness claimed her.
~*~
“We need to lead them away,” Miroku said as the villagers continued to rush at them. “If they’re after us, then we can at least keep the others safe.”
“Kirara, guard the house,” Inuyasha ordered as he leapt to Miroku’s side. Together, they cleared a path through the sea of bodies, pushing through to the fields beyond. The villagers turned and stumbled after them, still calling for their death and waving their weapons. Satisfied, Inuyasha and Miroku ran down the steep hill between the Headman’s house and the rest of the village, hoping that the incline would make it more difficult for the villagers to climb back up to the house. The villagers tumbled down after them, with apparently no concern for self-preservation.
As they spun back around to face the oncoming horde, they saw Kirara chasing the stragglers over to them and taking up a protective position at the crest of the hill. They kept close to one another, focusing on taking the weapons from the villagers’ hands and throwing them as far away as possible. Inuyasha struck more and more with his left hand, his right arm already aching from the little he’d used it. He also relied more on his feet, kicking the villagers in the head or chest.
“Use restraint,” Miroku warned, striking out with his staff to bat the people away. “We mustn’t harm them.”
“I know that!” Inuyasha snapped, but Miroku had to know that if it came down to them or the villagers, Inuyasha wouldn’t hesitate to knock any of them out cold to keep Miroku safe. Fear was already swirling in his chest, stronger than usual. This was his Miroku that these humans were threatening. His responsibility to make sure that his monk stayed alive, more so than ever before. The new weight of the dedication they hadn't even really agreed to yet was churning his insides. The cost of caring. He punched a few more humans into oblivion, but they kept on rising. “We aren’t getting anywhere!”
“You fools are pathetic,” a familiar voice called out to them, and they spun around to see Kagura standing on a boulder nearby. “You should have killed them all, so they wouldn’t keep coming after you.”
Inuyasha growled, stepping in front of Miroku. “Not you again!”
“Then again,” Kagura said disinterestedly, examining her fan. “I suppose that if you were capable of slaying them, you would have already done so.”
“So you’re the one who possessed these people?” Inuyasha accused, eyeing the villagers who had suddenly frozen in place.
“I am,” Kagura said easily. “A mortal with no soul is no different than a corpse.”
“No soul?” Inuyasha asked warily, his hand snaking towards Tessaiga’s hilt.
“Your friend is having the soul sucked out of her even as we speak.”
Inuyasha and Miroku exchanged a wild look. Sango must be facing a second demon.
Kagura’s fan snapped open. “Inuyasha, unsheathe your Tessaiga,” she ordered. “This time, victory shall be mine!”
“Miroku, go help Sango,” Inuyasha said quietly.
“What about you?” Miroku asked, eyeing Kagura’s fan. Inuyasha couldn’t dispel Kagura’s twisters on his own, and without her youki being purified with spiritual power, he couldn’t use the Wind Scar.
“I’ll be fine,” Inuyasha growled, pulling out Tessaiga. “Go!”
Kagura smirked and sliced her fan through the air, shouting “Dance of Blades!”
Inuyasha blocked the incoming crescent blades with Tessaiga, covering Miroku’s retreat. He was forced back by the powerful attack, but he didn’t care if he lost ground. His arm ached and he could barely hold Tessaiga steady. Miroku was running through the villagers, who were beginning to come after him again. Inuyasha swore, unable to move as Kagura’s blades continued raining down on him. Kagura hadn't hit him last time, but Miroku was still carrying the injury from those blades. If she turned her attention back to the monk, he didn't know if he'd be able to get between them fast enough.
Miroku got to the base of the hill and was met with a wall of villagers. He could face them, but it would cost him valuable time. A growl came from above and Kirara threw herself at the possessed bunch, tossing them bodily aside. Miroku ran through the path she had cleared, calling “Thank you!” over his shoulder. He cast a look back to see her clearing the villagers from around Inuyasha, allowing him to focus all his energy on Kagura. It wouldn't be enough. They needed to stand together to have a chance of defeating her, but luck, it seemed, was not on their side.
Miroku burst into the house, calling Sango’s name as he ran from room to room. Instead, he found Koharu lying face down on the ground. He dropped to his knees beside her and lifted her into his arms. “Koharu?”
“Miroku!” she gasped, her eyes snapping open. “I was so scared!”
“You’re safe now,” he promised, looking around the room. “Have you seen Sango? Come on, we need to find her.” He tried to get up but Koharu was clutching at his robes, keeping him down. “Koharu, let me up,” he ordered gently. She refused.
Miroku pulled away from her, trying to calm her fear so they could find Sango and the second demon. Instead, he saw Koharu’s eyes blazing with sudden anger as she raised a large knife above her head, poised to plunge it into his chest.