InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Revenge of the Romance Novel ❯ Chapter 1

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Title: Revenge of the Romance Novel
Author: LuxKen27
Universe: Canon (mid-manga)
Genre: Comedy
Rating: T
Word Length: 1015
Summary: Kagome’s guilty pleasure is reading romance novels. As it turns out, so is Miroku’s.

Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.

~*~

“Do you hear that?”

Sango held up a cautious hand as she and Kagome approached Kaede’s hut. It was a hot, dry afternoon, and the girls had only just returned from a long, leisurely dip in the nearby stream.

Kagome cocked her head, listening intently. “Sounds like a scuffle of some sort.”

The girls eyed each other warily, clutching their bathing supplies tighter in their arms. Rarely did they have downtime during the shard hunt; more depressingly, even during this small window of leisure time, they had to stay on guard. What a waste, Kagome thought, turning her attention back to the entrance of the hut. I actually enjoyed being clean for a change.

Sango quickly readied the knife hidden at her forearm, shifting the weight of her belongings before pushing aside the door covering, Kagome quick on her heels. The two breathed twin sighs of relief and exasperation as they surveyed the scene before them.

Shippo had taken up residence next to Kagome’s yellow backpack and was busy rooting through her belongings, throwing papers, books, and clothes this way and that as he dug for his treasure. Inuyasha, ever in fine temper, was berating him, while Miroku had stationed himself across the room, engrossed in one of the tossed aside books.

“Aha!’ the kitsune said, lifting his edible prize into the air as he shifted back on his haunches.

“Thanks, shrimp,” Inuyasha replied, swiping the bag of potato chips from his hands.

“Hey! Give those back!” Shippo cried, standing and bouncing from foot to foot, trying to reach the bag that Inuyasha held safely out of reach. “I found them – they’re mine!”

“Shippo,” Kagome groaned, stepping out of Sango’s shadow, heading for the bickering pair. “How many times have I told you not to go through my things? If you want something, just ask!”

“He started it,” Shippo responded, immediately pointing the finger at Inuyasha, who protested around a mouthful of chips.

Sango could only shake her head, her attention drifting away from the trio. She eyed the items from Kagome’s pack that had been tossed around the room, her gaze eventually settling on the far too quiet monk settled against the far wall. He seemed absolutely engrossed in whatever he was reading, and that instantly made Sango nervous.

A quiet monk always put her on guard.

Miroku looked up at just that moment, his eyes lighting up when he saw her watching him. He smiled and stood, his finger marking his place in the book as he made a beeline for her.

Sango’s stomach dropped.

Miroku’s expression was thoughtful and intense as he approached, halting only a few steps from where she stood by the doorway. “Daggers and scimitars hold no danger for me,” he intoned, “but you, I think, are deadly.”

Sango furrowed her brow, confused. “What?”

“I could fall in love with you,” he continued, sweeping one hand over his heart. “God help me, I think I already have. And that will wound me much deeper than any knife ever could.” He leaned closer, adding, “To the bone. To my very bones.”

At that moment, the chatter on the other side of the room ceased, making Miroku’s dramatic declaration echo through the dwelling. Sango could only stare at him in disbelief, wondering if he had developed some sort of mysterious, delusional illness over the course of the afternoon.

After a moment, Miroku fell back on his heels, his brows knitting together. “Hmm,” he mused, more to himself than anyone else. “It worked for the guy in this book…”

Sango ripped the paperback from his hands, opening it to the page he had so helpfully marked, paying no heed to her bath supplies as they clattered to the ground. Deftly, she skimmed the prose, her eyes growing wide and her cheeks staining red when she found the offending words – and the actions that followed.

“Hentai bastard!” she swore, beaning him on the side of the head with the book. The sounds of the pages fluttering mixed with the rush of the door covering opening and closing as Sango stormed out of the hut. Miroku made to follow, holding his head in one hand, but tripped over the borrowed bottles of sweet-smelling shampoo and body wash, landing in a heap in the doorway.

Shippo and Inuyasha, who had been watching the exchange with interest, both frowned, the open bag of chips forgotten. Kagome rushed to Miroku’s aid, swiftly kicking the offending book away as she knelt to make sure he was okay, her face as red as Sango’s had been moments earlier.

“What just happened?” Shippo asked.

Inuyasha eyed the book, now mere inches from his feet. “I’m not sure,” he replied slowly, picking it up and looking at the cover. He wrinkled his nose as he spied the cover, of a half-dressed couple in a tight clench, and understanding slowly dawned.

“Hey, Kagome,” he called, “you like this stuff? Why?!”

Kagome’s cheeks continued to burn as she helped Miroku steady himself. “Take a wild guess,” she muttered under her breath.

“What stuff?” Shippo demanded, scrambling up to look at the cover. “I don’t get it.”

Miroku glanced up at her as she applied a cold compress to his temple. “I understand the concept,” he confided, “but it seems the execution is lacking.”

Kagome glanced at him skeptically. “How much of the book did you read?”

Miroku’s eyes sparkled. “Only the good parts,” he admitted, adding with a shrug, “and it seemed worth a try.”

Kagome glanced over her shoulder. Inuyasha’s curiosity had led him to start skimming the book as well, though from his expression, it appeared he was thoroughly unconvinced any such techniques were worthy of anything other than uncomfortable derision.

She sighed. No wonder she was reduced to reading cheesy romance novels to ease her frustration.

Miroku cleared his throat. “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to have any more of those…would you?”

Kagome looked back at him sharply, disbelieving, only to see genuine interest flicker across his features. Could it be…she wasn’t the only one in need of a quick fix?

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Author’s Note: Miroku’s quoted excerpt is from The Cobra and the Concubine by Bonnie Vanak, © 2005 Leisure Books