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.