The End is Only the Beginning
By Sakata Ri Houjun
*prologue

AN: I kow what the majority of Inuyasha fans say, that he and Kagome are soulmates. Well that's all fine and good, you're entitled to your opinion, as am I. Miroku is my favorite character from this series and deserves to get some. Unfortunately, I can't stand Sango. She has her good points, but half the time she's being manipulated, the other time she's more helpless than Kagome. A youkai slayer who carried a boomerang bigger than she is...helpless?
But I feel the same way about Mousse ending up with Shampoo. Not bashing the characters, but these boys could do so much better.
Anyhoo, enough of my rant. I have noticed a serious lack of Inu/Miro fics out there and it seriously bothers me since I can easily find doujinshi of that lemony flavor.
Who can resist the allure of hanyou on monk goodness? Certainly not me!
But if you can, then hit the back button right now since this won't be your cup of sake.
Note this says 'prologue', so don't give up hope with what you read. More is to come if I get many reviews!

Warning: Violence and Death are in this small part as well sweet monk and hanyou sappiness.

~***~

Side to side, shoulder to shoulder, monk and hanyou stood, facing their opponent, the smug expression of the youkai only fueling Inuyasha's rising ire. It was only the presence of Miroku that kept his temper in check, his lover's calm strength something of constant astonishment and facination for the hanyou. Seizetsu unfurled his youryoku, a shimmering power erupting from his body, pushing his assailants away from him. Miroku's back hit the ground with an almost sickening snap, but the pain barely lingered for a moment before he drew himself back up with the aid of his shakujo, looking down at himself to check for any injuries. Inuyasha landed not too far from the monk, one hand lightly touching a fresh cut on his neck, drawing away with blood although the wound was already starting to knit up.

Seizetsu's emerald kimono shimmered in the breeze, whipping it around his ankles as he regaurded the pair before him. "You dissapoint me, Inuyasha. Surely you can put up more of a fight than that," he murmured silkily as one hand lifted, brushing aside a few dark strands that had fallen from his loose plait in an almost bored manner.

Inuyasha raised an eyebrow at the statement, his hand wiping away the remainder of his blood, the minor cut healed completely. Slowly the hanyou lowered both his hands, now fisted, a grin crossing his face, enough to show his fangs. "You haven't seen me begin to fight yet," he taunted.

"Well then, I suppose I should begin as well." With those last words, the gentle breeze transformed into a brief yet brutal wind that turned the branches of the willow into a flurry of whips, each one targeted at the pair. Miroku held up his shakujo, the brass rings jangling as he parried each branch as fast as he could sense them. Inuyasha merely jumped out of the way, avoiding each of the whips, his body bending and twisting in an inhuman way. He laughed slightly, one clawed hand closing around the hilt of the Tetsusaiga, pulling it free of its scabbard in a flash of silver as it transformed. With it he slashed at the branches, until he managed to escape the tangle, now charging the lackey sent by Naraku.

Miroku shook his head with a direvitive laugh, an amused smile crossing his lips. Though only a select few could claim to have seen the true human side of the hanyou, it was a fight like this that truly boiled the youkai blood that still flowed within his lover's body. The monk gave a quick glance to the ridge up above the lake where this latest skirmish was taking place, checking to make certain that their other companions were safe before running to catch up with Inuyasha, not wanting to be left behind. Seizetsu had ambushed them unawares scant moments before, leaving only two combatants after seriously wounding Sango. Now Shippo and Kagome were tending to their fallen friend and could only watch as he and Inuyasha battled their foe.

The youkai laughed almost roaringly as he neared the water's edge, his youryoku prickling along the monk's skin like a thousand tiny needles. His arms crossed in an almost derisive manner, his lips curving into menevolent grin. As Seizetsu's eyes flashed red with power, the water behind him suddenly began to churn, circling in a vortex that moved not down but up, a watery funnel now forming behind their emeny. Inuyasha took a step back, looking up at the glittering rainbow-colored arc of water, one foot placed infront of the other, as though he were ready to run. His narrowed amber eyes were focused at the very center of the youkai's midsection, concentrating on the weak spot that he aimed to hit. Miroku froze in place, his eyes widening and heart pounding hard, but it wasn't out of fear or caution, but rather something much more alarming.

Seizetsu's hand moved, the water snaking down like a dragon about to strike, crashing towards Inuyasha in a roar of elements, intent on crushing the hanyou. However, Inuyasha's stance changed at this time, and the location where the water crashed stood empty, nothing but dark and wet earth stripped clean from the force of the blow. In that moment that he was suspended mid-air, a painful scream echoed in his ears. The silver-haired demon flickered his gaze momentarily to check up on his lover, only to find Miroku on his knees, his eyes focused on his cursed hand.

As Inuyasha hit the ground, he ran to the monk's side, suddenly worried about the grave and pained expression on Miroku's face. The dark-haired man gave out another painful cry as he grasped the wrist of his right hand, grip tight and trembling. Suddenly, the rosary wrapped around his wrist snapped apart with a sound that peirced through the hanyou's heart, the pearly fragments of the beads catching the dying sunlight like a thousand sparkling prisms. Time seemed to slow down as Inuyasha's eyes followed those falling peices with a grave certaintity gripping his being.

Miroku continued to scream, a sound of pure agony as he tried to close his hand, however it was too late. Before the broken rosary could hit the ground, a pillar of air sprung from the young monk's hand, moving as though alive. The swirling motion of the kazaana was kicking up a tremendous wind, Inuyasha's silver hair whipping around his shocked face. When he noticed that the ground was moving under his bare feet, he plunged the Tetsusaiga deep into the soil, rooting his position so he wouldn't be pulled into the vortex of wind. Caught off gaurd, Seizetsu was swept up, his cry of astoishment sucked into the void along with him.

From deep within the eye of this malestrom, Miroku kneeled, holding the wrist of his cursed hand tightly as though to contain its power. But there was no containing it this time, no escape from the void that was finally consuming him. Had he looked up he would have seen the darkness in his palm expanding, swallowing up anything in its path. However, the now silent monk's eyes shifted until they were locked with those peircing amber orbs of his lover, such volumes of guilt within his gaze. A slight smile curved across his lips at the situation. Inuyasha had given him a reason to fight, a reason to continue living, yet that love wasn't enough to save him from anihilation.

Inuyasha reached out towards the monk, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, such pain on his face. "Miroku!" he cried out, his voice swallowed up by the rushing wind. Though his eyes remained latched onto hanyou's, seeing within those amber depths such desperation, the monk managed a slight smile, ignoring the intense pain shooting through his body. His carefree nature had enabled him to look beyond the gravity of his situation in the past, and even with death dragging him away from the one person he had truly cared for, he would not regret anything done. Inuyasha watched helplessly as one tear fell down his lover's smiling face before the earth erupted around him, the curse finally claiming its bearer, claiming the hanyou's heart along with it.

His companions could only watch in utter atonishment as a deafening silence settled down, leaving only a solitary figure who kneeled down at the very lip of a huge crater, visibly crushed. The dust slowly settled and a new cry of suffering peirced through the aftermath, a sound so heart-wrenching and agonizing that one would guess that Inuyasha had died.

His fists clenched tightly, claws peircing the skin of his palms, but he paid no heed to the small amount of pain; it was nothing in comparison to what he felt in his chest. Inuyasha recalled the vow spoken the first night he and the monk had shared their fears and their hearts, one that would never be fulfilled now, and he swore himself a new oath.

He would personally rip off Naraku's head, avenging the man he loved, and then join Miroku in death.