InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Small Moments ❯ Dark Thoughts ( Chapter 23 )

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Miroku's thoughts were as dark as the night he trudged through. The wounded kazaana in his palm throbbed a constant reminder of all he stood to lose.

His steps remained measured, as they always did when he was traveling, but he fought the urge to run. He knew running would be pointless. He vividly remembered a time when he had run faster than ever before, and had still been too late. It did not matter how fast he was; his father had died anyway, consumed by the same curse that threatened Miroku now.

He wondered if he would be too late this time, too. If he would always be too late.

It was a long way yet to Mushin's temple.

He decided that walking a bit faster couldn't hurt.

A while later, he caught sight of movement in the long grass up ahead. For a moment he wondered if it was some sort of animal, but almost immediately he realized that it was a youkai. A very familiar youkai, at that.

"Hachi!" he called out.

The tanuki emerged from the grass in front of him, looking alarmed. "Master Miroku," Hachi stuttered. "I did not expect to see you here."

Miroku suspected that Hachi was also surprised to see him alone. He had sensed the tanuki's presence a time or two since he had teamed up with Inuyasha and Kagome, so he had a feeling Hachi probably knew how long he'd been traveling with a group. Still, meeting up with him was a stroke of luck that Miroku was not about to pass up.

"I need a favor," he said.

"A favor? From me? What are you planning, Master?" Hachi asked, his tone implying that if it involved trickery - and little danger - he wanted the details of any plot Miroku might be hatching.

"There's a temple I need to get to," Miroku explained. "Time is of the essence: it's a matter of life and death. Will you take me?"

One of the best things about Hachi was that he knew when not to ask questions. "I will take you."

In a matter of moments, the tanuki had changed his shape, allowed Miroku to climb onto his back, and taken to the sky. Traveling by air was much faster than walking, though it did not make Miroku feel any better. The torn kazaana in his palm ached and burned as much as ever, and now he had nothing to do but sit and think.

He had expected to feel regret. He had not expected to regret the loss of his companions. They seldom trusted him and often misinterpreted his intent, but he had come to like them. Even Inuyasha and Sango, in spite of everything. Somehow, it especially rankled that he had not been able to make amends with Sango after the incident with the false water god. For a while, he was content to think about that rather than the other painful memories that seemed so desperate to intrude upon his mind, but as night lightened into dawn and they drew closer to Mushin's temple, Miroku's thoughts returned to that fateful day so many years ago.

He'd run so fast, been so desperate... and it had done him no good at all. A violent rushing of wind, and then his father was gone.

The sky grew pinker and pinker as the sun rose, and Miroku found himself watching the landscape below with a feeling that might almost have been anticipation. It was not long after that that he saw the first clear landmark, and called for Hachi to take them down.

They came to rest at the foot of the hill and began to climb the stone stairs leading up to the temple.

"Is this the temple where you grew up, Master Miroku?" Hachi asked.

"Yes."

It was indeed this temple where Miroku had spent his childhood. And it was not far from here that Miroku's father had been sucked into the kazaana in his hand until nothing remained of him. Mushin had assured him that his grandfather had died in the same way. The kazaana in Miroku's palm pulsed strongly, as if reacting to the memory. He had to wonder if he would be the curse's next victim.

As they reached the top of the hill, they walked past an enormous, perfectly round hole in the ground. Oblivious to Miroku's determined attempts not to look at it, Hachi commented, "What's this big hole?"

"Oh that," Miroku said, still refusing to look, "it's my father's grave."