InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Not-So-Broken Dreams ❯ 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Okay, so we all wonder what made Miroku start groping, right? Well, this is just my take on it :) This chapter really has nothing to do with what happened in the movie, but it fit with the flow of the story, and just had to be written. Enjoy!


Not-So-Broken Dreams

Chapter 2

----------------Flashback----------------------

"Mushin-sama, Mushin-s-ama!"

Young Miroku's eyes widened slightly as he caught the slight crack in his own voice. Of course it could be attributed to his being out of breath, he thought to himself as he slid to a halt and paused for a moment to pull air back into his lungs.

Mushin stood with the lord of the village at one end of the rather large home, having sent Miroku on his way towards the other end of the building. The two men paused in their conversation as the boy stopped beside them.

"Mushin-sama, I found it!"

The older monk cocked a slightly skeptical brow at his charge's enthusiasm, though only those accustomed to reading his expressions would have noticed the change. "The demon?"

Miroku nodded excitedly, pointing back the way he'd come. "Back there! In the shrine!"

He looked back and forth between his mentor and the village lord, hoping this just might be his chance to exorcise the demon on his own. Mushin usually did the honors, but this one was his! He found it first.

"Well what are you waiting for, boy? Go expel it!" Mushin ordered, shooing Miroku off with his large hands.

"Yes, sir!" Miroku called over his shoulder, already halfway down the hallway. He nearly tripped over the hem of his robes in his haste to reach the room he knew the demon was using as a hiding place.

Reaching one hand out, he caught the frame of the doorway and practically swung himself into the room, carried on by his own momentum. He braced his feet quickly and brandished his father's staff before him, eyeing every corner for traces of the demon's dark energy.

"I know you're in here! Come out!" he called, wincing as the slight echo of his squeaking voice reverberated off the walls.

Where was the stupid youkai? he thought, shoving the strands of hair that had come free of their binding back behind his ear rather impatiently. If his quarry didn't show itself soon, Mushin would come and probably take over.

This was his chance! He had to make it good, and prove to the older monk that he could exorcise the demons on his own.

Sensing movement out of the corner or his eye, Miroku turned a little too quickly. He lost his balance, the sandal on his pivoting foot catching at an uneven board in the floor while the other foot was still in the air, and he went tumbling backwards.

"Ow!" he muttered, wincing as he rested on the floor for a moment. He'd caught himself in time to avoid hitting his head, but had still injured his elbow and his backside in the process.

What he thought was a muffled giggle had his gaze shooting up towards the doorway.

He scrambled to his feet and merely gawked, hardly able to breath.

He'd never seen anyone quite like her-- long, sleek dark hair drawn up partly by several decorative combs, deep brown eyes peeking at him over the top of the sleeve she had used to smother her laughter--

"I am sorry to have laughed at you, sir," he vaguely heard her murmur in soft, melodic tones. She bowed in apology, then straightened, waiting for some response.

He could barely find his own voice. "No, no. I-it's--"

He clutched a hand to his throat, mortified at the sound that had just escaped through his mouth. He could feel his cheeks growing more heated with every second that passed.

The corners of her eyes crinkled and the sleeve went up to hide her face once more.

The creak of one of the boards out in the hallway had him nearly jumping out of his skin, though it reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing.

Miroku spun around, again brandishing the staff in all directions as he searched for some sense of the demon's energy.

His heart was still beating too quickly, and the sound echoed in his ears as he tried to concentrate.

He knew the youkai was there-- it had been before he'd run off to report his findings to Mushin. But where was it now?

He moved towards the corner furthest from the doorway, hoping that putting more distance between him and the girl would allow him to calm his racing pulse and slow his breathing.

"Is it gone yet, boy?"

At the older monk's call, Miroku whipped around, his staff swinging outwards just a bit too far. The end smacked the leg of a small table near the wall, causing the entire thing to shift and a rather expensive-looking vase to begin teetering precariously towards the edge.

With the way his luck was going, Miroku had just _known_ something else was going to go wrong, and looked over his shoulder in time to see the vase begin to fall.

He turned and dashed forward a couple of steps, reaching out as far as he could in the hopes of stopping the pottery from falling to the floor and smashing.

He closed his eyes and lunged forward, though he knew he would be too late.

Something heavy landed in his arms just as he hit the floor.

His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His fingers clutched at the smooth, somewhat cold, object that rested in his hands.

The only thing he could hear... was silence.

Unsure of what he would find, he cracked one eye open, then the other, and blinked incomprehensively for a moment.

The inside of the vase was rather dark, he thought idly. Except for the two glowing spots that appeared to be lit inside.

Sitting up carefully, Miroku turned the vase this way and that, looking for some thinner portion, or perhaps pieces of glass that would let light in in such a way.

The mosaic-like tiling on the surface was rather odd, as well as the overall shape of the vase-- as if it were made of many rolls of clay laid in circles one on top of the other-- but he didn't find any clues as to what would cause the glowing inside.

He once again turned the vase so he could look down into the opening, and instinctively threw it at the wall an instant later.

The pottery shattered, reforming and solidifying in the shape of a rather menacing-looking snake.

"Hah! So there you are!" Miroku cried in triumph, grabbing his staff and raising it above his head. The rings jingled as the metal rod swung in a wide arc down towards the floor.

The snake moved more quickly than he expected, however. It slithered towards him and drew back, seeming to leap towards him from a couple of feet away as it struck.

A split second before its fangs came in contact with the hem of his robes, it disappeared in a puff of smoke, one of Mushin's ofudas floating to the ground where the snake had been.

Miroku released the breath he'd been holding, not sure whether he should be angry with the older man for taking his prize, or grateful for the saving of his life.

"Still a bit too slow, aren't you, boy?"

He looked up, to find Mushin smirking down at him, another spell-paper lazily dangling from his fingers.

Miroku glared back, pushing awkwardly to his feet.

"Or was there something distracting you?" the old monk murmured quietly, his grin growing wider.

The glare grew fiercer, even as the boy's cheeks began to burn. He folded his arms across his chest and turned away, deliberately ignoring his mentor.

"Although I can't say I blame you..."

----------------End Flashback------------------------

He and Mushin hadn't always seen eye to eye on women, Miroku thought with a wry smile, opening his eyes to stare up at the stars littering the night sky. What was appealing to one wasn't always so for the other. And the older man made a great show of educating him on how to treat the females they encountered.

Some of the time, the women were amused, especially if they were older, but many of the younger ones tended to be disgusted. Females just hadn't flocked to Mushin's side as they seemed to for Miroku at times.

He'd been very smug when they first started to come to him, and bragging to his mentor would usually get him whacked with whatever was handy that could be used as a weapon-- his father's staff more often than not.

He hadn't really thought about it until now, but lately, the women didn't affect him the same way. He went about reading palms and making charms as usual, but he didn't quite enjoy having so many around him.

Maybe it was because he knew they were acting as much as he was, that nothing would come of flirting in the end. Or maybe it was just because he knew they'd be heading on soon, with Inuyasha impatient to reach the next shard or Kaede's village. Maybe it was just getting old.

Then again, it didn't help that he kept picturing a furious Sango any time one of the women began to flirt with him.

He didn't really think he minded it that much, either.

There were times he imagined she was one of those women, how she might react. But he couldn't quite place her there. None of the scenarios that ran through his head rang true.

It had occurred to him that she might behave differently if the man were someone other than him. But then he considered the thought, through the jealousy that hit him. Sango just wasn't the type. She might allow someone else to get closer, but her personality wouldn't change.

At least he didn't have to worry about Inuyasha, or Kouga, or even Mushin, vying for her affections.

He never really _had_ needed to compete with the old monk for a female's attention. Especially as Mushin tended to prefer sake, which did nothing but turn him into a drooling, sleepy old man. Miroku had never seen the appeal of alcohol, and always chose the company of attractive women as his method of escaping the worries he woke to every morning.

Of course his antics had gotten him into more trouble than Mushin had ever encountered while under the influence of alcohol. And it had all started with that same village lord's daughter...

----------------Flashback------------------------

They'd gone through the usual motions, accepting the thanks of the village lord, as well as the man's invitation to stay the night in his home. Miroku didn't really remember much, but then again, he'd been too hopeful that he'd catch a glimpse of the girl he'd seen earlier to really pay attention to the food they were brought, or to how comfortable the sleeping mats were.

But it was one of the few nights that he went to sleep without worrying a single time that it could be his last.

The next morning, they'd been given breakfast, and welcomed the supplies and a couple of other gifts the village lord felt compelled to give them for their services.

Miroku hardly tasted his food as he watched the young girl eat her own meal. He was sorely disappointed when Mushin announced that it was time to leave.

He finished his meal and reluctantly stood up, helping his mentor gather their few belongings. The village leader and his daughter followed them out into the yard, the man thanking them for the help once again.

Miroku grew bored with listening to the usual back and forth "Thank you," and "It was nothing". He wondered at times why saying things just once didn't seem to suffice. Mushin sometimes managed to gain some extra token of appreciation by delaying their departure in such a way, however, so he didn't complain.

So, instead of paying attention to what the two men were saying, he allowed his attention to be drawn to the girl standing only a couple of feet away. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noticing how the bright morning sun made her hair shine.

It didn't occur to him to wonder why this particular girl drew him-- he didn't remember her name, if he'd ever been given it, and she really was just like any other girl he'd seen.

She looked out into the village, appearing as bored with the conversation as he was.

Shifting his feet, he turned slightly, so as to look at her from a much more comfortable position.

She wasn't quite as tall as he was. But if she was around the same age, she'd possibly have a little bit more growing to do.

Her hair fell slightly past her waist, and instead of the combs, a simple white ribbon held some of it in place. Enough of it seemed to be pulled back to keep it off of her face. It looked quite soft in the sunlight, but he resisted the urge to reach out and touch it.

The fall of her hair seemed to emphasize the slight curves of her body. Of course, he knew there were differences in the shape of a female and the shape of a male. He'd seen enough people in his life to identify them. And he'd noted that women seemed softer in places than men were, as if they had extra padding for reasons unknown to him.

But did they really?

There was one way he could find out... but dare he try it?

He'd seen Mushin do it. He wasn't quite sure why the older man seemed drawn to that particular part of the female anatomy, but then again he'd never really focused on girls at all until now.

There was always a first chance for everything, right? It was like trying a new food-- have it once to see if you like it, instead of refusing it right away. He had a feeling he wouldn't find anything distasteful about this experiment, however.

And why shouldn't he try it? The girl was standing right next to him, after all.

He glanced around out of the corners of his eyes, checking for signs that anyone else might notice him and what he was about to do.

No one. Good.

He shifted his feet slightly, inching just the tiniest bit closer to the lord's daughter.

Then, as stealthily as he could, he reached his left hand out and behind the girl, flexing his fingers just before--

The loud smacking sound of a hand striking flesh followed the outraged squeal that left his ears ringing.

Miroku merely stood still as the lord's daughter ran back inside the large hut she called home, the skin of his cheek heating with the force of her slap.

A goofy grin began to spread across his face as he considered the results of his little test.

Yep, he'd seen the same thing happen to Mushin, too.

But oh, had it been worth it!

----------------End Flashback---------------------