DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inuyasha or any related characters. The story and art is property of the great Rumiko Takahashi. This fan fiction is for entertainment purposes only, and in no way will be used for my betterment. I wrote this because I admire the owner's work and wish to daydream about the characters.

Sorry folks for the wait. I was transitioning computers and didn't wish to start a new chapter with my old computer. Now let's see. I'm on chapter seven with this one right? I think this one's going to end up longer then YMMB, which by the way now has NINE chapters. Yay! And now… on with the show! (er.. fanfic.)

nreep

SANGO'S SON AND MIROKU'S DAUGHTER

"Damn!" Miroku exclaimed after being bitten yet again by the scotch tape dispenser. He looked around to make sure that Rei wasn't nearby to hear him. In front of him sat a lumpy package, a dress that he'd spent the money he'd been saving for himself, in a box. He couldn't find the birthday wrapping paper and it was wrapped in newspaper. Newspaper that a shrine visitor had left behind. I can't even afford a newspaper! He put his injured finger in his mouth, having just drawn blood.

"That's the fifth time tonight," Mushin said from his seat across the table. His present for Rei had already been neatly wrapped. Miroku envied him.

Miroku smiled though, "Why don't you do it then? I'll break into your cupboard for you if you do."

The old man nodded his head in consent and started to fix Miroku's bungled up job. "Get yourself a glass as well, you need it," his comment causing Miroku to wince. He was always was riding the elder monk about being a drunkard, yet he couldn't help but admit to himself that he liked sake as much. At least he didn't drink it in excess. Miroku grabbed the pliers and cut through the old lock opening the cabinet. Two glasses were poured. "Bring the bottle!" Mushin called.

"To the last five years," Miroku said, lifting his glass then throwing it down his throat like an expert. Mushin nodded and did the same.

"To the last seven years."

He's already drunk… Miroku thought with an eye roll. "Rei's only five, nothing's happened in seven years"

Mushin poured himself more rice wine. He stared at the liquid a moment or two. "Not quite. We had a bit of a scare when you were sick…."

So that's what he was talking about. "I was dying admit it."

"Yes.. you were…"

Miroku helped himself to more wine. "So what it wasn't a great deal or anything. I got better, end of story."

Calmly Mushin put down his cup and finished wrapping the present before continuing. "It was a miracle."

Miroku's cup slammed down on the table, spilling the contents slightly. "There's no such thing as a miracle. I just got sick of being dead!" His act of anger didn't seem to startle the monk though. He just continued to drink his sake. Miroku disgusted with the calm attitude got up, finishing off his second glass of wine, poured a third that he took with him. "I'm going to bed. You better be able to handle the shrine by yourself tomorrow."

Miroku sat on his bed, swirling his glass around, watching how the light played in the rich wine. He worried for a second that he might be becoming an alcoholic, but banished that thought quickly. He couldn't afford that. Who would take care of Rei?

Rei… he thought, taking a large sip. His eyes drooped severely, and he zoned out, thinking back years ago, before Rei, before there was even a chance of Rei.

Miroku, age ten, rubbed at his sore right arm. Having blood drawn always hurt him. But even with the horrible pain he'd grown use to it. At first he would cry, then his eyes just watered up. Now he didn't even register it. Everything was routine. He'd catch a small cold and instantly be dragged to the doctors. Blood would be drawn. While waiting for the lab results the cold excelled, and he'd be rushed to the hospital with high fevers and cold sweats. Last time he claimed that he'd seen his father at the foot of his bed.

But this time it wasn't a cold that brought him in. He'd fallen down in the schoolyard and now was covered in bruises. Miroku hopped of the doctor's table, his legs shaking underneath him as he headed out the door to his guardian. Mushin stood there, drunk as usual, but his face grim….

And just a few days ago Rei hopped off the doctor's office, falling on her knees, standing up and brushing them off. She held out an arm expectantly waiting for the band-aid to be placed. She could handle having blood taken better then he had at that age. He could faintly remember clutching at his father's sleeve and burying his face in his shirt. All Rei wanted was his hand to hold on to.

"The results should come back in a couple of days." The nurse told him in a whisper. Miroku nodded his head numbly.

"What a brave little girl you are Rei-chan, why don't we get you a sticker?" the nurse said taking his daughters hand…

A tugging at his arm woke up Miroku. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, "Rei-chan? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asked, still groggy and throat thick from his drinking. He finished off the glass quickly. Rei nodded her head, looking very guilty, and Miroku knew that she felt she had done something bad now.

"Aw, come here," he said pulling her onto his lap, "Too excited?" Rei shook her head no. "Bad dream?"

Rei played with her nightgown, which was just a shirt of Miroku's that shrunk in the wash, she nodded her head yes. She shook a little and buried her face in his torso. She didn't cry though, just shake.

Miroku fumbled around in the dark of his room till he found his hairbrush. With great care he started to brush out his daughter's hair, being extra careful of the tangles. The rhythmic pattern and soft swishing noise easily lured her back to sleep.

He sat there gently stroking her hair, his chin resting on the top of her head, for a few minutes before he picked her up and carried her back to her own room. Miroku tucked her in with a grin on his face.

"Happy fifth birthday tenshi…"