InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Ours ❯ Miroku ( Chapter 27 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
I buried Sango in the demon slayers' old village, next to Kohaku's grave. The scent of incense filled my nostrils as I muttered prayers over the spot where she had been buried. This would be much easier if I was not doing this for my newlywed wife. My wife. To my surprise, though my eyes did water from time to time, not a single teardrop actually escaped. I guess it helped that I had known this would happen.

Kirara mewed in sorrow next to me. I opened my eyes and shook a finger at her.

"Now now, we cannot dwell here any longer. Remember what Sango said?"

I refuse to do anything but smile. I refuse to come off as anything less than cheerful. The past is in the past, and though it hurts, we cannot undo it. The more time one spends in the past, the more they waste of their present, and in turn, they corrupt the future. Sango will always be my wife.

I am not the only man in mourning. There are so many others suffering even more. Therefore, the remainder of my time will be spent not for the past, but for the future. Those that are already gone cannot be revived; but those that are still here, those that have been left behind-they still have a future.

These people will still be here when I am gone. These people are the ones who now control the fate of the world. These people are the ones who, after we all leave, will be inhabiting the world we fought to save. They need to know not to make the same mistakes that we did. They need to move on so that our sacrifice was not in vain.

The fruit of our deaths is their lives and to ensure changes in humanity.

"Come, Kirara." She transformed into her larger state and carried me on her back, knowing what I was about to do. I was going to use my last moments for the living relatives and friends of the deceased pilots.

Before I went to see anyone else, I had to pay a visit to the one person alive that had affected me most. Master Mushin. When I first told him about me and Sango getting married, he was ecstatic. He saw that my wind tunnel was gone and thought I was about to settle down and start a family that did not have any sons with the same curse.

Now he knew he was mistaken.

The wind tunnel was gone, but I was still going to die. There would be no starting of families. He would not see grandkids. His daughter-in-law was dead, and I was going to follow her soon.

"Why are you worrying about me, Master Mushin?" I asked, making sure that I looked happy. "I have lived to accomplish my goal and remove the curse from my family. I have made many true friends, and I have lived to be happily married."


"I am dying as a hero, Master Mushin." I continued. "So there is nothing to feel sorrow over. The person that needs sorrow is not me. Babies die. Children die every second of the day, without getting a chance to live life. And unlike me, they have no warning beforehand. So...instead of being symphathetic for me, please think of the millions of people, children, and babies that do not get special deaths."

We paid a visit to my father's grave, made offerings and said prayers. I have never felt so proud. Not only was the curse gone, I have managed to marry the most beautiful woman in the world despite my flirting and now, I go out like a hero. Whatever sins and misdeeds I have committed, I think I can forget about now and live up to my title as a monk. What greater honor is there for a priest than to sacrifice himself for the good of the world?

I stood up from my kneeling position and felt something pierce my back. I looked down at my chest; there was an arrowhead poking out from my robes, drenched in my blood.

(Normal P.O.V.)

"Miroku's missing?!" screeched Dung Beetle after Hiroshi told him the news. "What the hell do we do now? The fight starts in like, one hour!"

"I will go." Kaede spoke up. "I will fight."

Sesshomaru, Kagura, Hiroshi and Dung Beetle all turned to the old miko. She had put her hand on one of the sheets of paper Dung beetle kept in a stack in the corner, signing herself up to be a pilot.

"What are you standing there for?" she said. "Go look for Miroku!"

And so they teleported to the place they thought he was most likely to visit before his death; his old foster father, Mushin's house. He was sitting huddled in a ball in a dark corner, drinking large amounts of sake. To interrogate him, Kagura shook the old man. He did not answer. She shook him three more times and when that didn't work, she took the bottle of sake he held in his hand and poured it over his head. That did the trick.

When he awoke, his eyes widened as he recognized these people and the floating mouse as they fit the descriptions from Miroku's story perfectly. The old man sat silent for a minute, then put his head in his hands and wept. He was so hysterical they had to hit him until he would answer their question about where Miroku had went. The reply that he gave was unsettling.

"So, what happened to the guy who shot him?" Hiroshi had asked.

Mushin continued to weep. "I killed him. I made a deal with him to not tell anyone, and then when his back was turned, I took his arrows and stabbed him with them. I...I have killed a man!"

Kagura bit her lip. "Think that's the same person who killed Kagome?"

"He said he was on a mission." Mushin said through muffled sobs. "He was with a group of people trying to stop the killers...the killers using the giant monster."

"Why didn't we just tell everyone the truth?" asked Hiroshi.

Dung Beetle scoffed. "Because if they had known, everyone in the world would have wanted to get their hands on Zearth!"

From above, there was a familiar sound of something metal moving above the ground. Kaede's fight had begun. Meanwhile, Mushin continued to drink himself stupid.

"Dammit, I can't even do this anymore." exclaimed Dung Beetle. "If the dimension pruning goes far enough, there's still a possibility it'll circle back around! So however long it takes the next Earth to win changes the possibility of the war happening again. I heard though, the more wins a place has, the less probability it has of getting chosen again. But who knows? It could be a year, ten years, ten thousand years-it could still happen again."

"Dammit, Miroku..." cried Mushin. "Miroku!"