Chapter Text
Kaede was glaring at them in contemplation. She picked at the fresh stitching on Inuyasha’s suikan and finally spoke in a flat voice. “When Aiko came bursting into my house with the news that you all had returned battered and bloodied and in need of my assistance, I was picturing something rather more…dire.”
Inuyasha shot her a toothy grin from where he lay the floor, while Miroku flailed his unbound arm dramatically. “Kaede, we’re injured!”
Shippo squeaked and clung tighter to Inuyasha’s shoulder, where he’d been attached like a limpet ever since they sat down. He’d given them a suitably tearful greeting upon their return, and then absolutely refused to leave their sides. They’d had to pass him around like some strange adornment whenever any of them had to do anything.
“Some of us can be useful, at least,” Sango said wryly, pushing to her feet. “I’ll help you fetch some food, Lady Kaede.”
“Shippo, you go with her,” Inuyasha ordered gently. “She’s the least damaged.”
He lifted the kit off him by the scruff of the neck and handed him over to Sango, where he firmly attached to her arm. She absently patted him on the head as she grabbed Hiraikotsu. As much as they were all intent on relaxing, none of them so much as sat down without their weapons nearby. Whether they were eating, sleeping, or bathing, they remained armed and alert. Sango was especially cautious, knowing that with Inuyasha in a great deal of pain from his gut wound, Miroku unable to use his left arm properly, and Kirara still limping from the damage done to her paws, it was her turn to act as their front line of defense.
The shadow of Naraku’s incarnations also hung over them, keeping them all on edge. Each had strange new powers and posed a different kind of threat. Miroku found it impossible to view Kaede’s village as a safe haven, knowing that Naraku could be watching them, and plotting to destroy it. They could take their chance to recuperate, to gather supplies and heal, but they would have to leave again in a day or so. They couldn’t afford to linger.
“We need to plan out our next move,” he said to Inuyasha, propping himself up on one hand.
“Don’t we always?” the hanyou sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “We don’t have any trace of Naraku or the Jewel shards. There’s not much we can plan around.”
Miroku made a soft noise of agreement and scooted over to lie on Inuyasha’s shoulder. Fingers absently brushed the hair from his eyes, but he could sense the hesitation there.
“You’re worried about Kaede?” he asked quietly, following the hanyou's gaze up at the rafters.
“We only just told Sango,” Inuyasha murmured. “I want to, eventually. It’s just a lot.”
“There’s no rush,” Miroku said, and then he smiled. “We can tell her as we’re leaving, if you like. So that we can run away.”
Inuyasha snorted, and he cupped the side of Miroku’s face with a gentle hand. “You know she would hunt us down.”
Miroku chuckled and winced, the motion pulling on his stitches.
“You alright?” Inuyasha asked softly, his eyes tracing the wounds which he knew were hidden under the robes.
“Just a little stiff,” Miroku admitted wryly. “What about you? You have yet another hole in your gut.”
Inuyasha shrugged absently. “S’no big deal. It stopped bleeding this morning.”
“Remarkable,” Miroku said, and there was a tinge of awe in his eyes.
Inuyasha blushed lightly and buried his nose in Miroku’s hair.
~*~
“Naraku’s incarnations,” Miroku started conversationally as he shredded herbs for Kaede’s stew with his right hand, the other still in a sling.
“Juromaru and Kageromaru?” Sango asked, passing a cup of tea over to him and Inuyasha.
“Yes, but not only them,” Miroku sighed. “That Naraku made an incarnation in Juromaru who he couldn’t control makes me worry. Was it intentional? The idea that he can’t plan out exactly what he’s creating almost concerns me more.”
“Kageromaru said that he would obey only him,” Sango said. “But did he obey Naraku? It seemed as though Juromaru was only interested in battle, regardless of his opponent, and I can’t decide whether Kageromaru was following Naraku’s plan or his own desires.”
“The other three were obedient enough,” Inuyasha grumbled. “When I got to the village with Goshinki, he was saying something about following Naraku’s orders. And we saw Kagura and Kanna at his side at Koharu's place.”
“There is no telling what kind of enemy may attack next,” Kaede said somberly as she passed out bowls of stew. “You all must be even more careful and keep your wits about you.”
Miroku hummed thoughtfully as he accepted his bowl, and the others looked at him questioningly. “Perhaps, if we can discern some kind of pattern in Naraku’s incarnations, we can try to predict whatever will come next.”
“The hell kind of pattern is there?” Inuyasha asked. “You got a wind sorceress, a dead-eyed little girl, a giant demonic mind-reader, another vaguely-human-looking guy, and then whatever the hell Kageromaru was.”
“What about their powers?” Sango suggested. “At least the first three had unique abilities.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Miroku nodded, grimacing slightly. “Naraku told me that Kagura and Kanna were Wind and Void respectively, so I have to assume that Goshinki was Mind.”
“He’s centering them around an idea?” Sango asked, interest piqued. “Do those three things relate to anything?”
“Nothing I can think of,” Miroku sighed. “I thought that maybe he was aiming for godai, but Mind isn’t one of the five elements. Goshinki could be Water or Fire, but then what? Are either Juromaru or Kageromaru the Earth incarnation?”
“Inuyasha, you said that there was a strange chill that came from Juromaru’s mouth,” Sango said, looking over at the hanyou.
She frowned. Inuyasha’s ears had flicked back and his muscles had tensed. He was staring at Miroku, but seemed to shake himself out of it at Sango’s questioning look. “I think that was Kageromaru lying dormant inside him," he muttered. "That would make Kageromaru Water, or Ice, or whatever.”
Miroku nodded slowly, his brow creased in a concern frown before he pushed it aside. “If Naraku was aiming for godai, then five would be a complete set, but that makes no sense for him. If he can make as many incarnations as he wants, then why bother stopping? Especially when only two have survived!”
“We should examine the old legends for any sign of these ideas,” Kaede said decisively. “It may prove useful in determining Naraku’s plan.”
They ate in relative silence, weighed down by their own thoughts. Even Shippo was quiet, though he still polished off two bowls, so he couldn’t be feeling too poorly. He had plonked himself mostly on top of Kirara and kept on nuzzling into her fur in between stealing bites of food from the others. Miroku couldn't help but smile at that, but he kept on sending nervous glances at Inuyasha, who had his eyes fixed firmly on the floor and didn’t seem to be tasting his food. When they finished, the hanyou immediately stood and volunteered to clean the dishes. He took them outside before any of them could protest.
“He seems grumpy,” Shippo observed sagely from the sweet bun Kaede had given him.
Miroku caught Sango’s eye and shrugged before casting a forlorn glance out the doorway of Kaede’s hut, and the woven mat hanging there was still gently swinging in the breeze.
~*~
Inuyasha’s mind was a blur of half-formed thoughts and emotions he couldn't name. Wind and Void. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And Miroku knew, he was sure of it – he’d looked like he was going to be sick when he spoke about the different incarnations. So why hadn’t he said anything? After the battle with Naraku, Kagura, and Kanna, Miroku had told him what had happened after he was hit with the Wind Scar. He had conveniently forgotten to mention the part where Naraku decided to put the power of the wind tunnel into his creations. The fact that the monster could control that power without a curse, that he was more connected to the wind tunnel than any of them had thought before. And Miroku had said nothing. It was possible that the monk had actually just forgotten…but that rang false.
To Inuyasha’s mild surprise, the initial thrum of panic that came from someone so close to him lying didn’t force him down the path he was anticipating. It didn’t make him question everything the monk had ever said, or make him wonder if he had been lying about their relationship – because he knew why he’d done it. It was the same reason that he’d disappeared off to Mushin’s in the middle of the night without a word. The same reason he’d lied about where he was going that day in town. Miroku didn’t deceive with malevolence – not with them, anyway. The conning of innkeepers and rich lords was another matter. But in a few short months of travelling together, Inuyasha had forgotten how easily Miroku lied. He’d gotten so used to seeing the monk as open, charming, optimistic and joking, with occasional moments of painful sincerity or fear. He’d thought he’d learned to see past the mask, but now he thought that maybe Miroku had simply stopped hiding for a while.
And he trusted Miroku – there was no doubt there. As much as Kouga scared him, and the memory of Kikyo still haunted him, the tiny voice in the back of his head – the one that insisted that every good thing in his life was going to be violently torn away from him one way or another – had quieted slightly. Which was why it still hurt. Which is why it pushed him into a new kind of panic, because how the hell was he supposed to approach this with Miroku? How the hell could he force the monk to confront this new thing, this new threat that Naraku must have made just for him? He'd never even stopped to wonder about how much control Naraku had with the wind tunnel's curse. If he could use aspects of it in his incarnations, what else could he do? How much more of a threat did this make him to Miroku's life? If he wanted to, could he trigger the curse at will?
And he knew that Miroku wouldn't treat it like a big deal. He'd hidden it for a reason, and he'd brush it off just as easily. And now that his own panic had calmed just a little, Inuyasha knew that there was nothing they could do. He could understand why that would make Miroku tuck away his feelings, because didn't they all have enough to deal with already? But the idea of Miroku dealing with this, alone and secretly and in silence, hurt way more than the panic still clenching at his chest. He wanted to grab Miroku into his arms and shake it into him that they were supposed to be together on this! That the whole point of them being together was so they could help each other! But even saying it out loud would make Miroku shy away from him. Simply stating 'I know you hid this new threat from me because it was hurting you' wasn't going to work. Miroku wasn't going to stop hiding - if anything, it would make him more careful with what he revealed. It might make him pull away.
And he couldn't let that happen. He'd spent his childhood watching his mother hiding her tears, pretending that his very existence wasn't hurting her the way it was. Kikyo had held him at arm's length until her death, trapped by the pressures of the outside world. Miroku was the first person in his life that he felt he could actually talk to, and there was no way in hell he was letting that go. He couldn't lose the closeness he'd gathered tooth and claw. He couldn't deal with the crushing helplessness of watching someone he cared for succumbing to despair. And Miroku deserved better. If he was going to be any kind of partner to his monk, he needed to step the fuck up and help him. But he had to convince Miroku to let him first.
No, he had to go about this the right way. He had to convince Miroku separately from this issue that he would stand with him no matter what – that he could actually help. That he wasn’t alone. Fuck, he couldn't let Miroku think he was alone in this. The irony of the fact that he was taking this position with Miroku wasn’t lost on him. Neither was the fact that he was hiding this new revelation of his for the monk’s best interests. His youki was thrumming beneath his skin, telling him that he needed to find a faster solution – to hunt down the problem and rip it to shreds with his claws. He told it to be quiet.
~*~
As they gathered around the irori to sleep, Miroku knew that something was wrong. Inuyasha was holding him close, as he had done the night before, but there was a kind of urgency written into the force with which his hands grasped Miroku’s robes, the tension lining his body. Miroku shifted in his arms so they were face-to-face and brushed his fingers through Inuyasha’s hair, a silent question in his eyes. Inuyasha shook his head and pressed his nose into Miroku’s neck. The monk frowned but didn’t push – Inuyasha would talk to him when he was ready.
But the unease had settled into his mind like a disease. He could feel Inuyasha’s heartbeat reverberating against his ear, knew that he wasn’t asleep. It made it impossible to settle down. Once the others were asleep, their soft breathing filling the hut, Miroku reached out a hand and brushed his fingers down Inuyasha’s cheek. The hanyou’s eyes opened, surprised, but he didn’t move. Slowly, he traced the lines of Inuyasha’s nose, his lips, his eyes. The tips of his fingers brushed along the soft ears, through the strands of hair before coming to rest under his jaw. Inuyasha’s eyes were shining in the light of the embers, the smallest crease between his brows, holding unnaturally still.
As though offering up something within himself, Miroku eased back, tangled their hands together. Still, Inuyasha didn’t speak, didn’t move. The sense of wrongness hovered in the air around them, but it was dampened by their intimacy and the fragile peace of the night. Miroku let out a soft breath, not quite a sigh, and Inuyasha tugged him slightly closer. It was his turn to explore Miroku’s features, to follow the motion of his jaw, to brush a thumb along his cheek. There was a quiet, earnest force to his movements, even as he appeared to be holding himself back.
He shifted, wrapped his arms securely around Miroku and pulled him flush to his chest. Miroku tried not to feel disappointed, and instead pressed incrementally closer. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, to take comfort in the embrace and warmth and sweet, musky scent surrounding him. Because even if something was wrong, Inuyasha was still there. He would still be there in the morning, and they would work things out together. It was hard to convince himself that the good would last, and it wouldn’t walk away once a need was met. They had decided to stay, both of them, together. That would have to be enough.
Throughout the night, he dreamt of grasping claws and faceless voices, of something following him that he couldn’t see. He woke time and time again, but every time he fell back asleep, it was there once more. There was a faint pain in his chest and a catch in his throat. Inuyasha held him tightly, his nose buried in his hair, and Miroku tried to quell the feeling of being pursued.
~*~
A breeze brushed past the village, and she lowered her hands from the blankets she had been hanging up to dry. An ominous presence curled around her, one that had been increasingly common of late. She sighed to herself and set aside the rest of the washing. The wounded men all watched her leave, but none dared to speak to her. The women who she had been working alongside whispered to each other. No one tried to stop her.
The presence drew her through the forest, guiding her feet as always. He had come himself this time, another occurrence which had less rare in the past few months. She stopped in a clearing and waited. He did not reveal himself.
“Naraku,” she sighed. “What do you want?”
A dark chuckle came from her right, and the silhouette of his baboon mask peered at her from between the trees. “Sharp as usual, Kikyo.”
“How could I not notice you?” she challenged. “You’ve become careless in your spying. You seem to be quite concerned about my whereabouts, Naraku.”
She smiled, and laughed, and that angered him.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded sharply. It seemed she had struck upon something sensitive.
“It’s alright,” she soothed faux-sweetly. “I know that you cannot help but be concerned about me. After all, Onigumo’s heart beats strongly within you still.”
A flash of youki snaked through the clearing before it disappeared entirely. She could still taste his anger on the back of her tongue, as it lingered in the air. She turned and made her way back to the village.
His insects flew across the river that night. She watched them from the shadow of her hut at the edge of the village. At first she feared that he was going to attack the village out of anger at her words, but that was not it. These were scouts, not soldiers. Whatever else was coming would be far worse.
She barely made it outside the hut before she saw the dark shape slithering across the water’s surface. It was long, serpentine, and painfully familiar other than its colour of a bloody red. She watched as it rose high into the sky, and she finally recognized it for what it was.
Her soul collectors valiantly tried to fight off Naraku’s demon, but they were powerless against it. It was a mirror of their own design, only its body was longer than the tallest tree, and it did not discriminate in the souls which it consumed. Kikyo saw the spirits of the recently departed rising not only from the village in which she had found her latest home, but also far and wide across the countryside. This monster was going to consume every soul in the area, unless she could stop it. Her arrow glowed with spiritual power, but when it struck the demon’s throat, it merely shook its head in irritation. She watched in horror as the energy along the arrow was sucked into the demon’s body like just another soul. The beast opened its mouth wide, and something began tugging at her skin. She gasped as the souls within her tore from her body and flew into the demon’s mouth. Instantly she weakened. Pain seared across her chest. With no other choice, she turned and tried to make her escape.
~*~
They had scoured the village and shrine for every bit of writing they could find, in the hopes that some old record would have information about what kind of incarnation Naraku might create next. They were about to settle down and start reading when Kaede was summoned by one of the villagers to attend to a sickly man. Sango, Shippo, and Kirara went with her, to bring herbs and provide assistance. They left Miroku and Inuyasha to begin their search. Miroku was fairly sure that wasn’t going to happen.
Inuyasha was moving agitatedly from one chest of scrolls to the next, refusing to meet Miroku’s eyes.
“Yash?” he asked gently. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Inuyasha said dismissively, his ear twitching. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just trying to figure out where to start.”
Miroku leaned back on his heels, brows furrowed and eyes scrutinizing. “I can tell something’s bothering you – it has been for a while now. What is it?”
Inuyasha’s eyes were sharp for the heartbeat that they met Miroku’s before he looked away. “I’m just stressed about Naraku. Nothing new.”
Miroku’s frown deepened. “You didn’t seem like this before. Has something changed?”
“It’s nothing!” Inuyasha snapped, and he began pacing through the hut. “I just want the bastard dead, like always!”
“That can’t be all there is,” Miroku pressed, standing. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”
“Aren’t you listening?” Inuyasha’s voice was rising in pitch and intensity. “I’m fine! Outside of being pursued by an all-powerful demon who wants me and my pack dead, I’m fine!”
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“Please, just talk to me!” Miroku begged.
“There’s nothing to fucking talk about!” Inuyasha snapped, his pacing increasing.
“I know there is! If you don’t want to discuss what’s bothering you, then I’m not going to force you, but at least admit that you’re not alright! Tell me what I can do to help. Tell me what you need!”
“I don’t need anything because there’s nothing wrong!” Inuyasha snarled.
“Don’t lie to me!” Miroku almost shouted. “I can see that you’re hurting and I need to be there for you! Don’t shut me out!”
Inuyasha whirled on him, taking a step forward. He didn’t know what his plan was – to shove the monk aside, to push past him to the door and escape, maybe – but what ended up happening was very different. His youki was swirling around him, agitated beyond belief, and when he took that step, it jumped. A wave of his demonic power shot towards Miroku. The monk instantly froze, curling into himself slightly as his eyes went wide. Inuyasha froze in turn, horror crashing into him. Because Miroku didn’t look scared, not exactly, but there was more than just concern in his eyes. His heartbeat was calm enough – the opposite of Inuyasha’s – and his breathing was even, and there was no real pain in his scent. Inuyasha let out a shuddering breath, almost going limp with relief for the scarce heartbeat before guilt ripped through him.
“Yash-” Miroku started, a hand held out as though trying to calm a wild animal. Inuyasha leapt past him and out the door.
He didn’t stop running for a long time – out of the village, across the rice fields, and deep into the woods. By the time he slowed, his whole body was shaking and his breath came in shuddering gasps. He sank to his knees, bracing himself against the forest floor. Fear pulsed through him with every beat of his heart, hard-edged with horror at what had happened. At what he had almost done.
Fuck.
He curled into himself, digging his claws into the ground. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to be sick as nausea rolled over him in waves. He couldn’t- Fuck. Everything was wrong. He was supposed to be keeping Miroku safe, making him feel more secure, and he’d almost- He didn’t know what. He hadn’t seen the monk as a threat, not for a moment, but his instincts were pushing him to get away and his youki had reacted. He’d almost hurt Miroku. He’d frightened him.
He was dangerous.
He swore viciously, but the words got stuck in his throat and he almost choked. He was a danger to his pack, to everyone he cared about. He should have known, should have been more careful, but after Juromaru and Kageromaru he’d gotten careless. He still couldn’t control his youki – if anything, it was worse than ever. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down even for a moment. He couldn’t let anyone get hurt because of him – or by him.
Vaguely, Inuyasha could hear Miroku calling out for him. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to ignore the world. Then there was a tug at his neck, the nenju beads pulling him back, and because he was a gullible fool, he went.
Miroku stood outside Kaede’s hut, looking distraught. Inuyasha felt all his decisions and intentions drop away as his instinct to comfort and reassure pushed to the forefront of his mind. He reached out and barely stopped himself, his hands hovering uselessly in the air.
“Please,” Miroku said brokenly.
Inuyasha crashed into him, embracing him with a fierce desperation. “I’m sorry,” he gasped into Miroku’s neck. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”
“Shh,” Miroku hushed him, his hands winding into his hair. “Breathe, Yash. I’m fine. Nothing happened. I shouldn’t have pushed, I’m sorry.”
Inuyasha tried for a “no” but it came out as a whimper instead. He clutched the monk to him and breathed.
“Come inside,” Miroku whispered, and Inuyasha nodded.
They knelt on either side of the irori, Inuyasha staring hard at the floor. He could feel all of Miroku’s questions swirling unspoken in the air between them. He knew that it would be impossible to deny that anything was wrong. He didn’t know how he could explain what happened.
“What do you need?” Miroku asked gently.
Inuyasha shook his head, blinking rapidly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“This isn’t about making me feel better!" he growled weakly. "I’m not the one needs- You don’t get to-”
Miroku’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Believe it or not, I care about how you’re feeling. When something’s wrong, I want to help fix it, even if I am also having trouble.”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Inuyasha said stormily. “You want me to talk about my feelings but you hide yours.”
Miroku blinked, taken aback. He breathed through the instinctual unease which rose like an old wound. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
“I mean the mantis and Mushin’s temple. I mean the money. I mean Wind and Void! I mean the fact that you’re sitting there worried about me instead of yourself!” He cut himself off, but the damage was done. Miroku looked struck. So much for his plan. He took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone. “We’re both hypocrites, I get that. But if you want me to open up, then you need to as well. We can’t hide things from each other. You want to see me for who I am, then please, don’t lock yourself away.”
Miroku’s lips pressed together, his jaw clenched. After a long moment he sighed, and he nodded once. “I'm new to this - having a relationship. Having someone to talk to. I'm sorry.” He pushed past Inuyasha's immediate protest at the apology. “No, I am. I'm still learning, just like you are. And you're right. So, we have a deal.”
Inuyasha’s shoulders sagged and he ran a hand down his face. “Okay. Okay, good.” He swallowed his discomfort and blew out a breath. “In that light, I almost hurt you and that scared the shit out of me.”
“But you didn’t hurt me,” Miroku reminded him firmly, earning him a slight glare. “Yes, you frightened me – startled me – but no harm was done.”
“Is this what it’s going to be like?” Inuyasha asked. “My youki jumping in whenever I get upset?”
“I don’t know,” Miroku admitted softly. “Myoga seemed to think that it would only get stronger, but just like you’ve trained to handle Tessaiga and the Wind Scar, you should be able to wield your own power the same way.”
Inuyasha sighed. “Whatever. That’s something to deal with later. For now, we need to talk about the incarnations.”
Miroku swallowed hard, and he looked pained, but to Inuyasha’s surprise, he offered an explanation without prompting. “I didn’t think it made any difference. Naraku taunted me with it, but he does the same wherever he can – you with Kikyo, Sango with Kohaku, myself with the wind tunnel.”
“If it makes a difference to you, then it makes a difference to me,” Inuyasha said sternly.
“Fair point,” Miroku shrugged, offering a half-smile.
“I don't like what it could mean,” Inuyasha pushed gently. “Do you know how he even came up with the curse to begin with?”
Miroku shook his head grimly. “All my father and Mushin ever told me was that Naraku knew magic that most demons don't. And, well, we've seen that with the incarnations already. Whatever he did to create Wind and Void, there's no telling how it's connected to the curse.”
His eyes were fixed on the ground, gaze lost somewhere in the distance. Somewhere that Inuyasha couldn't see or reach. He could see the grief and fear that pinched Miroku's expression through his calm. Even if Inuyasha was still reeling, Miroku had found his peace with it. But Inuyasha could tell that it still hurt. He scooted over to sit at Miroku's side and wrapped his arms around the monk. Miroku sifted to press his face into Inuyasha's shoulder with a sigh.
Inuyasha tucked his nose into Miroku's hair and muttered “This whole situation is shit.”
Miroku's grunt reverberated against his skin. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”
~*~
As they returned across the village, Sango could feel Kaede’s eyes on her. She had stoically ignored all the questioning looks from her and Shippo since they arrived, but now she was cornered. She didn’t know if Inuyasha and Miroku were simply letting the others figure out their relationship for themselves, or if they truly didn’t know how obvious they were. But they weren’t volunteering any information, and she was left to confront the suspicious miko. At least Shippo hadn’t realized what he was seeing yet.
“It has been an eventful time for you, has it not?” Kaede prompted none-too-subtly.
“New incarnations, new problems, but the same mission,” Sango shrugged. “Things have simply gotten a little more complicated.”
“And yet you are persisting,” she pressed. “Working well as a team…?”
“Yes.”
“And Inuyasha and Miroku, they are continuing to treat each other well?”
Sango barely resisted rolling her eyes. “They are good friends, yes.”
“Good…friends. Good. That’s good.”
“We should get back and help with the scrolls,” Sango said with forced enthusiasm.
“Indeed,” Kaede said thoughtfully. Sango thought she may actually have gotten away with it when the old miko fixed her with a comforting look. “You know that any of you, be it you, or Inuyasha, or Miroku, may come to me with anything and I will listen.”
Sango smiled despite herself. “Thank you, Lady Kaede. I’ll let them know.”
When they entered the hut, Miroku and Inuyasha were sitting quietly on the floor, looking through scrolls. They appeared for all the world to be merely studious, but Sango could see Inuyasha’s red-rimmed eyes, the tension in his posture, the way Miroku was practically in his lap. Something had happened, but that was between them, and they seemed to have worked things out. She knew by Kaede’s sharp eye that she had also seen it – but again, not her problem.
She knelt down beside them and Miroku gave her a warm smile, slightly tight around the edges. “Were you successful?”
“The man should be fine,” Kaede said. “It is merely the cold returning.”
“What about you?” Sango asked, looking over the piles of scrolls and scraps of paper around the place. “Anything interesting?”
“Well, I’ve learned the entire history of that rock outside the shine,” Miroku sighed softly. “And Inuyasha is becoming an expert on sweet yams.”
“Thrilling,” Sango grinned humourlessly. “Hand me whatever’s next.”
~*~
By evening, it was obvious to everyone that they would be staying in Kaede’s village another day. They had worked their way slowly through about half the available texts, and still found nothing. While they discussed their next move, which might involve travelling to a city to search for more information, Kaede pulled her large cooking pot over the irori.
“I can cook tonight, Kaede,” Miroku offered mildly. “I haven’t had the chance for a while.”
She looked a little surprised but told him to have at it. She recruited Inuyasha to help her clear away the scrolls that they had already looked through. As they did so, Shippo eagerly volunteered to help Miroku however he could.
“How come you never really cooked when we were travelling together?” the kit asked as Miroku had him wash some yams.
“We were always eating roasted fish or the food was provided for us,” Miroku shrugged. “Back at the temple with Mushin, I cooked most of the time.”
“Can you teach me?” Shippo asked eagerly, and Miroku instantly agreed.
Sango watched them out of the corner of her eye as she tended her weapons. The monk’s face was warm with an old fondness that she didn’t think just came from Shippo. He rearranged the ingredients several times, a slight eagerness to his movements. The sight made her smile. When she glanced over at Inuyasha, she could see the hanyou shooting repeated glances over at Miroku, his expression soft and eyes shining. She grinned to herself and continued her task. She was so focused on not staring at them too much that she almost missed what Miroku was making.
“Curry?” she asked, as the food began to warm over the fire.
“Indeed it is,” Miroku grinned excitedly.
Sango watched him suspiciously. “You’re not going to put an obscene amount of chilies in again, are you?”
“No,” he said patiently. “I’m going to put in the correct amount of chilies, which is all of them.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
He hid his smile behind the large wooden spoon he was holding. “If I was, this would be the way to do it.”
“What are you saying?”
He gestured theatrically. “Sango, masterful and terrifying demon slayer, can’t handle a little heat!”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’d better watch your back.”
Despite her complaining, the meal was delicious, even though she was lightly crying the entire time. Shippo continued describing all the things he had done while they were away, which largely consisted of helping Kaede and playing with the village children, who were becoming increasingly fond of him. Once they were done, they continued reading scrolls in the light of the fire, but Inuyasha and Shippo were soon fidgeting.
“I think that’s enough for the evening,” Miroku sighed, rolling up the scroll one handed and starting to get up, but Inuyasha grabbed it from him and put it away for him. He caught Sango’s eye and blatantly ignored her broad grin.
They lay down around the fire, not quite ready for sleep, but done with the day. Miroku hummed a soft tune as he played with Shippo’s hair while Kirara butted them all with her head for pets. Gradually they settled down more. Inuyasha sighed contentedly, tugging Miroku slightly closer and nuzzling against his neck. He was slowly getting used to be able to press himself against his pack and breathe in their scent the way he wanted to, the way his instincts told him to do. Living amongst humans for so long had taught him to shove down his demon side as much as possible. But Miroku just hummed contentedly and rested his hand on the side of Inuyasha's head, holding him close. And Inuyasha melted into it. For a moment he just rested there, breathing in his monk's scent happily. Then he heard purring, and opened his eyes to see Kirara nuzzling her way into Sango’s neck, in the exact same way he'd just been doing to Miroku. Inuyasha’s ears flicked back and he frowned. Sango didn’t seem to notice, busy sharpening her sword, but Kirara blinked warmly at him. Inuyasha huffed and buried his head deeper into Miroku’s side. So what if he acted like a demon cat? He was part dog demon, after all, and apparently everyone was fine with that. Miroku would just have to deal.
~*~
There was something after him, he was sure of it. It wasn’t so much an immediate threat, more of a presence in the back of his mind. Miroku glanced over his shoulder but there was nothing, just swirling darkness with sparks of pink, blue, and amber. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. His hand pressed against his chest, at the clawed hand which pulled against his heart.
When he opened his eyes, Inuyasha was still asleep beside him, so he knew that he hadn’t reacted too strongly to the dream. Shippo was kicking his arm agitatedly, chasing something in his mind’s eye. Everyone else was quiet. Miroku closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep.
~*~
It was almost noon and they were coming to the end of the scrolls. Still nothing. Miroku’s eyes skimmed over the paper, looking for any relevant information. Normally, Inuyasha would be buzzing with frustrated energy at this point, but instead he simply sat by Miroku’s side, completely relaxed. His eyes roamed over Kaede, who was mending his suikan, and Sango, who was sharpening Hiraikotsu. He sighed contentedly and rested his head on Miroku’s shoulder. Miroku smiled softly and did the most natural thing in the world – pressed a quick kiss to the top of Inuyasha’s head before returning his attention to the scroll.
Inuyasha’s face was on fire as his entire body went rigid. Miroku didn’t seem to have noticed, but Sango was watching them from across the hut as though they were the most amusing thing in the world. Inuyasha curled his upper lip at her and her smile broadened. Yet despite everything, Inuyasha had no desire to move. He leaned a little more into Miroku and was rewarded by a hand running up and down his back before moving to sit heavily between his ears. Inuyasha shut his eyes and breathed it all in.
Some time later, he was pulled back to reality by a slight tug on his ear. Miroku’s fingers were playing absently with them, alternating between caressing and massaging the delicate skin. Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to moan. He leaned into the touch, bumping his head further into Miroku’s hand. The monk’s keen eyes were soon drawn from the scroll, darting from the silky ears to Inuyasha’s increasingly red face.
Miroku smiled broadly, warmly – maybe a little wickedly – and tucked the information safely away for later.
It was technically unnecessary for all of them to bring back the baskets and chests of scrolls together, but that didn’t stop them. After returning them to the shrine and various huts, they took a stroll around the village. Shippo ran after falling leaves and leapt on them when they touched the ground, trying to find the ones with the best crunch. Kirara found a fly and immediately made it her mission to capture it at all costs, bounding off windows and roofs and the occasional human in her increasingly aerodynamic chase. Miroku leaned heavily into Inuyasha’s side, their arms fitting easily around each other’s waists. At one point, Sango rolled her eyes playfully at them, so naturally, Miroku tackled her into a pile of leaves. She burst out laughing and smashed a handful of leaves into his face, which caused him to splutter and fall back. Then Shippo jumped on them, wanting to join in the fun, and they were somewhat rumpled when they returned to Kaede’s hut.
They agreed to leave the following morning. Kaede decided to take advantage of them while she still could, and summoned Inuyasha to tend to the various problems around the village that could benefit from the use of his hanyou strength. Sango and Kirara took Shippo to the river for some fish, as they were steadily eating through the village’s food supply. With nothing else pressing to do, Miroku decided to take a walk in the forest.
He was still full of a pleasant warmth from being with the others – it was hard to deny how much he had missed Shippo and Kaede. And despite having only been in the village a few times over the course of several months, it felt more like home than any place he had ever been outside of the temple. Yet it still felt good to spend some time alone, to have the chance to cast his mind outwards rather than focusing on specific people around him. Though being wrapped in Inuyasha’s arms was perhaps the perfect state of being, he hadn’t had the chance to meditate in quite some time. He turned his path towards a sunny forest glen, where the chirp of birds met the murmur of a stream and the whisper of the winds.
The presence of youki pulled his senses upwards. He peered through the trees, eyes straining. The long, serpentine body of a giant demon slid through the air above him. It twisted around, dipping its head to survey him before swinging back in the direction from which it had come. Miroku took in the six skeletal arms, the fanned fins framing the head, the pointed teeth… The soul collector was a hundred times larger than any he’d seen before, its body blood red.
Miroku glanced over at a patch of forest, following the faint tug on his heart. He didn’t know whether this was some new scheme of Kikyo’s, or whether the demon was after her, but there was no doubt that she was involved.
She crashed through the underbrush not a moment later, leaning heavily against her bow like a crutch. Her own soul collectors flew around her like guards.
“Kikyo!” he called out to her, catching her attention.
She didn’t exactly look pleased to see him. A tight grimace of pain marred her face, only deepening as he approached. She trembled and collapsed, and he barely caught her in time. The impact jarred along his arm and shoulder. She roughly pushed away from him. He was going to ask her if she was alright, or what was going on, but the giant soul collector began to crash through the canopy above them. Kikyo’s soul collectors rushed in between them and the demon, mobbing its face and trying to draw its attention, but it ignored them.
“I see you’ve been keeping busy,” Miroku said dryly as he wrapped a sutra around his staff.
With the advantage of a moment to concentrate, he was able to construct a proper spirit shield around Kikyo and himself. She glared at him, but there was a question in her eyes. Miroku avoided her gaze and instead watched the demon, waiting to see what would happen next.
~*~
Inuyasha heaved the log off the road, sending it tumbling down the rocky banks and into a ditch. The villagers thanked him, saying that the path was too narrow for horses to maneuver easily, and it would have taken many of them to lift the fallen tree on their own. Inuyasha shrugged, still uneasy whenever humans expressed any kind of gratitude for his presence. Earlier, he’d fetched some child’s plaything off the roof of one of the houses, and she’d actually hugged him. He shuddered at the thought.
He turned to Kaede, waiting for their next task. Instead, he caught something ominous on the breeze. He inhaled deeply, practically tasting the demon’s scent. He followed its trail to the horizon, where he could see what looked like a large red worm diving into the forest. Wait- He knew that youkai! He ran, ignoring the shouts of the villagers calling after him. Kikyo had to be nearby!
He burst through the trees, where the demon was being harassed by a flock of smaller soul collectors. Beyond them, Miroku and Kikyo knelt, covered by a spiritual barrier. Seeing them together sent a thrum of fear through Inuyasha’s heart – he keenly remembered the last time they had been in contact.
A buzzing through the air directed his attention back to the darkening sky, where a swarm of Saimyosho were gathering. He knew it! This had to be another of Naraku’s plots. He must be trying to get rid of Kikyo. Well, Inuyasha wasn’t going to let that happen!
He aimed for the Saimyosho first, knowing that if he got rid of the insects, then Miroku could use the wind tunnel if he had to. But the giant demon broke through Kikyo’s soul collectors, was diving at her and Miroku too fast for him to stop it. It bounced off the barrier and looped back into the air.
Miroku winced as he was jarred from the impact, but the barrier held. Kikyo was breathing harshly beside him, and he could feel her pain like some strange echo. The demon was coming for them again, its jaws open wide. It slammed into the barrier, its teeth raking along the surface, sending crackling energy running along the surface. Miroku grimaced as the force of the attack tore at his mental walls. Then Kikyo was moving, struggling to sit upright. There was something deeply wrong – he could feel it. It was like her very presence was fading away.
As the giant soul collector clamped its jaws around the half-sphere of the barrier, and Inuyasha drew Tessaiga, Kikyo grabbed Miroku’s arm. He gasped as pain shot through him, an ethereal white light emerging from his chest. No! He shoved her away, but his focus was shattered, and the barrier dissolved around them. Miroku lifted his staff just in time to block the demon’s attack, wedging it between the gaping jaws. He rolled to his feet, and Inuyasha was beside him. He pushed the hanyou towards Kikyo, seeing the conflict in his eyes. Inuyasha gathered her up in his arms and leapt safely out of the reach of the flailing demon. Miroku followed close behind.
The demon dove for them and Inuyasha jumped, clutching Kikyo tighter to his chest. He could smell the pain rolling off her in waves. He ran just far enough and spun around, desperate eyes immediately seeking out Miroku. The monk was retrieving his staff, which had fallen from the demon’s jaws, and easily avoiding the erratic movements of his opponent.
Inuyasha gently placed Kikyo on the ground, leaning her against the sturdy trunk of a tree. His eyes were sharp with worry as he surveyed her. “You’re hurt,” he murmured, though he couldn’t see where. “Just stay quiet here. I’ll take care of that monster.”
He moved before she could answer, drawing Tessaiga once more. Miroku darted under the demon’s belly and ran to his side, and they shared a solemn glance. Inuyasha stepped in front of the monk, lifting his sword above his head.
“You picked a fight with the wrong guy!” he shouted.
As the demon flew at Inuyasha, Miroku stepped out of the way, seeing where this was heading. He almost smiled to himself at the ease with which Inuyasha wielded Tessaiga now – and with no real training since its repair, and a gut wound slowing him down. Sango had joked with him, after Juromaru and Kageromaru, that Inuyasha was so stubborn that he didn’t notice the sword’s weight when those he loved were in danger. It would seem that she was right.
Inuyasha yelled wordlessly and shifted to the side as the demon flew at him. He swung Tessaiga out, slicing through the demon’s jaws and carrying the motion through the rest of its body. Miroku reached for the wind tunnel, and froze. Where the two halves of the demon fell at his feet, souls lifted from its flesh and floated up into the air. Dozens of them. Kikyo’s soul collectors sprang into action, snatching them from the air and depositing them in Kikyo’s body.
Inuyasha sheathed Tessaiga, unease rippling along his spine. He’d known that Kikyo needed souls to sustain herself, but seeing her like this… She couldn’t stand, couldn’t even lift her head up on her own. Yet as more and more of the souls were placed into her body, she blinked and looked around wanly, lifted a hand to brush the hair from her face.
“Kikyo,” he murmured, stumbling towards her.
Her eyes snapped to his. “Inuyasha?” she asked edgily, warily. “What are you doing here?”
He dropped to one knee in front of her. “That’s what I was gonna ask you.”
There was a slight rustling to his right, and Inuyasha’s heart clenched. Miroku’s eyes were steady as he nodded his head, took a step away. A small whine escaped from Inuyasha’s throat. Miroku’s eyes softened.
“It’s alright,” he whispered, just loud enough for hanyou ears to catch.
Inuyasha watched him as he disappeared through the trees. His gut twisted uneasily, but the scent of pain from Kikyo drove his attention back to her.
“Why did you come here?” he asked softly.
Kikyo shifted, grimacing in pain. “That demon was chasing me.”
Inuyasha nodded. “And you led it here knowing that I would rescue you.”
“Don’t be a fool!” she snapped angrily. “I was running wildly for my life and happened to come upon you.”
He reeled back. “Kikyo?”
She didn't meet his eyes.
Miroku watched from a distance. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and he tried not to intrude on their intimate moment. But even when he turned his back on them, he couldn't help but feel that he shouldn't be there. Time seemed to stand still, refusing to move forward. Hopefully Inuyasha couldn't hear his heart pounding. The promises they'd made to each other swirled in his mind, despite how much he tried to push them away. You and no one else. He had to trust that things would work out. Only time would tell if this thing between Inuyasha and Kikyo would prove stronger than the fragile new connection between him and Inuyasha. And whether he ended up being there as a partner or as a friend, Miroku knew that he had to stand his ground and do his part to keep Inuyasha from being ruined by this. He wouldn't let anything take away from the friendship they had built. He would put on a brave face and soldier on. He couldn't afford to bring his own fears into the mix, even though he knew that he was falling hard and fast. And when he snuck a glance back at the couple, at Inuyasha looking so lost and alone despite being right by her side, all of his doubt fell away. He would be there, no matter what. He had waited this long. He had kept his feelings in check thus far, and he could manage them again, even if the world around him fell apart.
The collectors continued to feed her souls. Inuyasha looked away, feeling somehow that this was a private event, not to be seen. His claws dug into one of the protruding roots of the tree, needing to hold on to something. He stared at the ground for a bit, and he had to swallow down the urge to move. He ended up scanning the area for more danger, even though he was entirely sure that any threat - from demons at least - had passed. It was why his eyes came to rest on the tree that Kikyo was leaning upon. Huh. What were the odds, that of all the trees in the entire forest, he would have brought her here?
“Fifty years,” he murmured, thoughtfully.
“What?” Kikyo asked suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”
“We haven’t changed all that much, seeing as fifty years have passed,” he said softly.
Kikyo shifted, turned away and closed her eyes. “Don’t talk nonsense. I have changed.” Her gaze cast upwards, to the tree she leaned against. “Since that day, all those years ago and yet not so very long ago.”
“It was because of Naraku that we hated each other,” Inuyasha said mournfully. “So much that you trapped me here. And you died, and I couldn’t do anything to save you. I don’t think I would have wanted to, if I even knew you were hurt,” he admitted quietly. His eyes locked to hers earnestly. “Kikyo, be honest – have I changed since then?”
She looked back at him wordlessly. Her eyes shone.
“I was so angry back then,” he continued. “When I woke, I burned with resentment for what you’d done to me.”
“Though not anymore,” she said softly. “You have changed, Inuyasha, in more ways than you are aware.”
There was a hard edge to her voice, something he couldn’t quite decipher. He needed to make it right.
“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, leaning closer to her. “We’re here now, and we’re still in each other’s lives. Your last words to me,” he swallowed hard. “The last time we saw each other, you told me that my life was yours.” He crept closer, a hand reaching out for her. “And yours is mine.”
Kikyo’s eyes flashed and she leaned back slightly, then she looked away and sighed. And laughed. “You sound just like Naraku.”
“What?” he reeled back as though struck. “You’re saying I’m the same as…as that monster?”
“Deep within Naraku, Onigumo’s heart beats with yearning for me, for my touch.” She smiled coldly. “Having me kill you with my own two hands was something that he dreamed about, for he was driven by petty jealousy. His desire has yet to fade.”
“Jealousy?” Inuyasha spluttered. “He did all that – caused all that pain – for something so ridiculous?”
“Yes, ridiculous,” she smiled. “But, that’s what mortals are.”
He stepped away, shocked by her coldness. He didn’t know which mortals she was referring to – Onigumo, Miroku perhaps, or maybe his own human half. Or maybe it was herself. He shook his head, casting aside the very thought. But Onigumo…
“Does that mean Naraku has feelings for you, too?” he asked.
“He is reluctant to admit it, but it is in an effort to quell these feelings that he wants me dead.”
“He won’t!” Inuyasha snarled, his fingers curling into fists. “I won’t let him!”
“Enough talk,” she hissed, pushing to her feet. “The souls have replenished me. I no longer require your aid.”
“Kikyo,” he shook his head. “You aren’t planning to confront Naraku alone, are you? You can’t! You’re not strong enough!” He looked away. “And the thought of that monster in love with you, what he might do… I can’t stand it!”
He reached for her, taking halting steps towards her.
“I don’t care you feel about me now,” he said, low and dark. “But I swear, I won’t let Naraku have you!” He grabbed her shoulders. “I can protect you from him!”
He squeezed his arms around her. She struggled, only for a moment, before her arms wound around him. He pressed her closer, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I will slay Naraku myself,” he swore. “So you won’t have to fight anymore. I will protect you.”
He meant it. He really, truly meant it. But the words weren’t only for her.
“Inuyasha,” she sighed.
“Kikyo…”
She pushed away from him, eyes flat. “You fool. You think that once you embrace a woman, she belongs to you – you and Naraku, both. Pathetic.”
“Listen-”
“No!” she said firmly, and he obediently stepped away. “I’ve learned something from you, Inuyasha. As long as the heart of Onigumo beats within Naraku, there will be an opportunity for me. That chance will be all I need.”
“Kikyo…”
He could see the coldness in her, the vengeance. Was she really still Kikyo?
The soul collectors surrounded her, lifting her into the air. He called after her, but got no response. She was gone. Again. And once again, he was left with a hollow emptiness aching in his chest.
Inuyasha closed his eyes, waiting as her scent faded away. A quiet breeze brushed past his face, holding a different scent, sweet and warm and familiar. He peered through the low evening light, where he could just make out a pale face against dark robes and trees. Far away enough that he couldn’t hear what they were saying, close enough that he could come to help if need be. Inuyasha stumbled towards him and then he was running, drawn by an invisible force. He caught Miroku in his arms and held him close. Miroku’s own arms were warm and strong around him, yet there was hesitation there.
Inuyasha couldn’t find the words to reassure him.
He was still reeling from Kikyo, still burning with the intensity of the emotions he felt whenever he was with her. He wanted so badly to protect her, to keep her safe… But with Miroku in his arms, he was only more confused. How could he face himself, drawing comfort from Miroku’s embrace, when he had run straight from Kikyo’s? He was trying to ease his mind about Kikyo with Miroku’s presence. The thought made him sick, made him curl away. Because he couldn’t deny it – he loved Kikyo. He’d never stopped loving her.
And he had no idea what to do next.