InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Darker Purpose ❯ Chapter Two: A New Addiction ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do NOT own InuYasha, or any related characters.

 

A/N: Well, color me surprised! I originally meant for this fic to be a two-parter, but it kinda' started writing itself - or maybe it was just `dark' Miroku teasing me with that `Come hither' grin of his, LOL. So, yeah ::sighs:: it's going to be a bit longer than intended, hence the repost. I'm not sure yet, maybe four or five chapters. Warning! There is a fair bit of Kikyou-bashing in this chapter - it's not because I HATE Kikyou - I just think she's a very complex character, and you gotta' admit she's VERY contrary; helpful one moment, hateful the next. Anyway, Kikyou-lovers - don't take it personally! Thanks for reading everyone!

 

A Darker Purpose

 

II: A New Addiction

 

Miroku's cold temper was at a rare, all-time high as he slammed a single, carelessly loud punch with the base of his fist into the flimsy apartment door. The sound was sudden and violent, and the door shuddered on its hinges with the force.

He stood in the dimly-lit hall of the second floor of the apartment complex and waited with angry impatience for the occupants within to answer. Despite the light bulbs being out in the ancient fixtures overhead, a brave, stray beam of early afternoon sunlight was shining in through the grimy window at the end of the corridor, and hitting the side of his face. He wearily turned his head away from it, but it followed, teasing at the corner of his aching eye past the barrier of his heavy silver sunglasses.

The lock on the other side of the door clicked, and Miroku looked back as it slowly swung open to reveal the shadowy, svelte figure of the undead priestess Kikyou.

He didn't spare her much more than a disdainful glance before pushing the door further open and brushing past her to get inside.

“Where the fuck is he?” he snapped, looking around the clean but threadbare furnishings of the small apartment.

Kikyou only looked back at him sullenly, and he gave a snort of disgust and walked through the minute living area and kicked open the door into the even smaller bedroom.

As expected, the hanyou instantly leapt up from his sleeping position on the futon at the sudden intrusion, his ever-present sword, Tetsusaiga, firmly in hand. He was fully dressed in his red fire-rat cloth jeans and matching long red duster over scuffed black leather motorcycle boots and a white t-shirt, clearly staying ready in case of an attack, and Miroku smirked - how convenient.

InuYasha immediately relaxed upon seeing his life-long friend, and ran a clawed hand through the tangle of his long white mane as he scowled sleepily at him through glowing gold eyes. “Damn, Miroku, what the fuck are you - “

Miroku balled his cursed hand into a tight fist and hit the half-demon with an uppercut to the jaw so hard it threw InuYasha into the wall as his head snapped back. His hand felt half-broken from the blow, but the pain was worth seeing the stupid bastard hit the floor - even if it only was for a few seconds.

InuYasha fingered his tender jaw in disbelief before he looked up at him with murder in his eyes.

Miroku jumped on him before he had the chance to speak. “What the fuck were you thinking, sending Kagome to get me last night!” he exploded, ripping off his sunglasses in the thankfully dark room. “Do you know how wasted I was? I couldn't have defended her against a fucking fruit fly if Naraku had suddenly decided to come after us! Where the hell were you? I thought we'd talked about this!”

InuYasha leapt to his feet, the expression of fury on his face fading into one of confusion. “What the hell are you talkin' about? I didn't send Kagome anywhere last night - sonofabitch!” His eyes widened with sudden realization. He bit off the curse with a fierce shake of his head and pushed past Miroku, out into the narrow hallway.

“Kikyou!” he bellowed, slapping the door out of his way, leaving claw marks in his wake.

Frowning, Miroku followed him, and found the miko glaring into the face of her lover as he yelled at her. Realization burst upon him, too, and he clenched his jaw against the sudden urge to strangle the dark-haired woman. The bitch had succeeded in stealing InuYasha back from Kagome many months ago, but she was still irrationally hateful and jealous when it came to the girl's and InuYasha's `working' relationship.

Miroku had known of this, but he'd had no clue the woman would go to such lengths to try to hurt Kagome - and she had been trying, if she'd sent her to retrieve him from the dark part of Tokyo he'd been in last night.

Kikyou must have intercepted a call meant for InuYasha from one of their many contacts last night, and then called Kagome…

Miroku shook his head at her in silent disbelief of her audacity. “You cold-hearted, devious-minded bitch! You purposely sent her out there to find me, didn't you? By-her-fucking-self?!”

Miroku took an enraged step forward, years of meditation and ingrained discipline barely holding him in check when InuYasha threw up a hand to silently tell him to back-off.

“I've had it with this shit,” he snarled, well aware he had issued more oaths in the past two hours than he had in the entirety of his kami-cursed life. In another time, another existence, he might have quietly wandered off to pray to Buddha for guidance and temperance, but he had all but forsaken his sacred duties in the past long year. He'd lost his friend, the girl he'd begun to think would be the ONE for him, and with her, he'd thought he'd lost everything - his heart, his hope, his faith…

Now Kagome, the girl he'd always thought of as belonging to InuYasha, had unearthed his heart from where he'd buried it along with Sango. Ever since her death, he'd known exactly what he was, and where he was going - directly, and unerringly down - and then, as if Heaven had opened up and shone down on him that morning, Kagome had made him hope, only for the merest instant…but apparently it had been enough.

His heart was lost to her, and now he didn't even have the slightest clue who the hell he was, anymore.

“Kikyou, if I ever - “

“I'll take care of this,” InuYasha told Miroku in a grim, uncharacteristically quiet voice.

Miroku looked his friend in the eye. After a moment of silent communication, he gave a tight nod.

He wasn't the only one who'd changed in the past year. After practically dumping Kagome to move in with Kikyou, it hadn't taken InuYasha long to figure out that his precious priestess had changed dramatically since her unholy resurrection. The hanyou had matured a lot emotionally since then, and Miroku knew that he often regretted his guilty decision to take care of Kikyou.

Miroku now understood just how much. He'd always thought he'd known what InuYasha was missing in letting go of Kagome, but now he knew. InuYasha was even stupider than he'd ever thought.

He could have lived the fairytale.

A burning pain shot through his palm, reminding him that this was reality, and while evil, hell born demons abounded, fairytales very definitely didn't fucking exist...

Miroku mentally sighed in disgust at his maudlin thoughts, and jerked himself out of his stupor, fisting his hand against the jolt of pain.

Kagome, fairytales…he didn't know what he was thinking. The happenstance direction of his thoughts only proved to him again what he'd known for the longest time - he wasn't any use to anyone dead-sober.

Speaking of, his throat was beginning to feel a bit parched…

Satisfied that InuYasha would straighten his clay mannequin out on a few things, Miroku gave Kikyou an unhurried up-and-down glance that spoke volumes of his loathing for her, and turned to stalk out of the oppressive atmosphere of the sad little apartment.

On the way out, he paused in the sunlight to push on his sunglasses, and to again briefly ruminate over his friend's very questionable preference in women.

Perchance InuYasha was into Sadism…a masochist, perhaps…?

Miroku smirked at the lewd turn of his thoughts, and then shrugged. How could he be blamed? He was a lecher, after all…

Tilting his head to the heavens as he stood on the sidewalk in front of the building, Miroku contemplated the perfection of the gauzy blue summer sky, all the while fighting not to wince away from its brightness. Truth be told, he couldn't recall the last time he'd truly felt the sun's light upon his skin. He knew it wasn't at all healthy, and that he was pale and wan-looking because of it - and, a more likely suspect, his overdeveloped fondness for sake.

Seeing the world in the light of day again made him think of Kagome. The urge to go back to the shrine to see her was easily overwhelming his well-honed instincts to go find a dark place with cool drinks and hot, willing women.

Miroku found himself smiling…grinning, actually. He laughed out loud, the sound seeming hesitant even to his ears as he lifted his gloved right hand, palm up, as if to catch the warmth of the purifying sunshine in his aching grasp.

He would have cried if he could remember how.

It seemed as if the goddess had cursed him yet another new addiction…Kagome.

 

To be continued in Chapter III…