InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Overwhelming Nausea ❯ The Truth is Out ( Chapter 3 )

Overwhelming Nausea

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Disclaimer: The hell.....? Is this really necessary?

Summary: Miroku isn't the carefree little monk everyone thought him to be...RAPE! (Sessh/Mir) Inu/Mir

Rating: R

Warnings: Rape, cutting, violence, lemon, possible OOC-ness, cursing, AU

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Chapter Three: The Truth is Out

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"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Miroku nearly jumped out of his skin. His head whipped around with inhuman speed until his wide dark eyes settled on a very groggy, haggard looking Inuyasha. Sometime during the night, he'd pulled his chair closer to the bed, so he could keep his eyes on Miroku's face. He'd watched for any sign of nightmares through the long hours. Luckily, the monk had slept the rest of the night in an almost frightening calm. `I guess I don't know him very well,' he decided. `I'll fix that this morning.'

Instead of asking Inuyasha what he was doing in his room, Miroku fingered the tight bandages around his arms and sides. He prodded the plastered strip on his head and cringed as it throbbed in pain. In a split second, the dark-haired boy had calculated and determined what had gone on that night. He sighed and leaned back against his pillows. "Uhm…" the boy murmured. "I guess you…"

"Hold that thought," Inuyasha interrupted. He was out of his chair and nowhere to be seen in seconds. Miroku stared at the doorway, blinking. A few minutes later, he heard some clangs, then the smell of fresh tea swept through the room. He smiled half-heartedly at the thought of some freshly brewed goodness. `He's so good to me', the monk thought. He felt a tingle in his cheeks as he mused over the kindness that was the white-haired hanyou. Most people never got to see it. All they focused on was his roughness, his I-don't-need-you attitude. And in a way, that's all Inuyasha ever showed in general. But Miroku and the others knew how he really was. As soon as he got away from Kagome, he dropped the bastard mask and started acting almost fatherly. He always made sure they had food and the other necessary goods, like water and heat. But lately, he'd been showing signs of stress. Apparently the task of being the group's "daddy" was getting to him.

Not only did he take care of them, but he also made sure all of the members felt special and needed. Miroku knew that before coming to his new team, he was a wreck; unloved, beaten, abused, and practically suicidal. Of course, he never showed anyone this. He kept his loneliness inside, hidden so the world couldn't prey on it. (This is really the only reason why he hit on the ladies so much; it provided him with a bit of company. And at least he was making an impact in someone's life.) He knew Sango's village had been destroyed and her family killed. Kouga just kind of hangs around. Even Inuyasha himself wasn't much respected by the average person and didn't have the best reputation. And yet here, they all knew that they were a team.

Miroku smiled genuinely, thinking about all the things Inuyasha did for them. I should really help out more, he thought.

The hanyou entered after that thought, holding two steaming mugs in his hands. "Thought you could use this," he explained with a silly grin on his face. "It may help the pain in your head." The monk smiled into his heated mug, which warmed his hands and arms. What Inuyasha didn't mention was that he needed it too, because he'd been up all night.

`For me,' his mind giggled a bit. Miroku felt another tingle on his cheeks.

"Er, are you okay?" Inuyasha asked, noticing the redness. The slender young man quickly assured him that he was fine. "All right then," the older one said as he sipped from his mug. "Mm… precious tea…" Miroku chuckled under his breath and drank his quietly. They sat in silence for a while, drinking and savoring the peaceful atmosphere.

"Hey, Inuyasha! Are you in there?!" Sango yelled, not bothering to knock or anything. She threw open the door, killing the silent haven the two boys had created. Walking into the room, the young lady eyed Miroku up and down, a knowing, odd look on her face. "Are you going out for a walk today, Miroku?"

Miroku snorted and looked down at his blankets. "I doubt Inuyasha would let me."

"Absolutely not," the hanyou-in-question responded. "There's no way either of us are going out anywhere today."

"What? Why aren't you going?" Sango asked curiously.

"I'm going to take care of Miroku," Inuyasha explained, lowering his brows at the demon exterminator and silently telling her to drop it, or else. Miroku saw the look in his eyes and decided it was safer not to argue.

"Uh… okay then, Kouga went out looking for food...and I guess I'll just go take a walk and maybe have a nice bath in the hot springs..."

*****

"Good rice," Miroku complimented, a half-smile on his face. Inuyasha looked up at him and grinned. They both knew that the rice was terrible and too sticky, and that Inuyasha couldn't cook to save his life. Still, it was food, and that was good enough for them. After breakfast, the white-haired young man brewed one more pot of tea - for himself. Both youths had agreed that Miroku didn't need another cup of liquefied caffeine.

"So…" Inuyasha started after settling down on the bed next to Miroku. "You ready to talk?"

"About what?" the monk asked innocently.

"You know," Inuyasha said, trying to sound firm and determined.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Don't give me that, Miroku," Inuyasha groaned, brushing a hand through his white locks. "That was probably one of the scariest nights I'd ever been through. I thought you were going to die. Now you owe me some sort of explanation as to why you're having madness-inducing dreams and self-destructive fits."

Miroku paled visibly and tried to sink into the sofa cushions. He absolutely did not want to talk about it. Especially with Inuyasha. `He'll think I'm dirty,' the younger boy thought, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. `I don't want him to think that.' Inhaling deeply and squeezing his knees, the monk croaked out, "Do you absolutely have to know?"

"If it's hurting you, yes," Inuyasha replied calmly.

"Then sit back… it's a long story." `Please let me get through this.'

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"Miroku! Dinner's ready!" An old monk yelled up the staircase. After waiting for a few minutes and getting no reply, he tried again. "Miroku! Come to supper!" The middle-aged man called three more times and still got no reply...

*

A young Miroku trudged through the cold, frosty forest leaving light tracks behind him. He shivered as the harsh winter winds whipped his face, but he really didn't care. He didn't care about much of anything now. There was nothing left to care about. The boy winced in pain as a loose branch scratched against on old wound and reopened it. His whole body was covered in them, all from his parents.

He let a tear drop from his eye as the wind swept over the fresh blood. He couldn't go on any longer and huddled down behind a rock in hopes it would provide as a good windbreaker. `At least this is better than home,' he thought pitifully. He originally came out there to spend some alone time away from his house and family, but now he figured it would just be better to die here and never have to go back. He sighed and rested his head on his knees.

CRACK

His head shot straight up and he looked around with wild eyes looking for the source of the snapping twig. But instead, the source found him and the next thing Miroku knew he was on his back on the cold ground staring up into menacing, narrow hazel eyes....a youkai. His eyes widened as he saw the lust-filled glazed look in the demon's eyes. He knew what was coming.

*

The young boy woke up in some sort of medical bed in a shivering mess. His eyes darted around as he recalled what had happened the night before.

"Damn boy!" His father yelled as he burst through the wooden sliding door. "What the hell were you doing out there?! Getting yourself in trouble, that's what!" He stormed over to the terrified boy and slapped him harshly across the face.

Miroku shivered as he bent over in the bed and cried into his hands.

*

He was back home. He stared at the open space, his face dead. "You know where the medicine cabinet is," his mother's voice echoed in his mind. He reached out with a scarily steady hand and wrapped his small fingers around a jar. I want to die, he thought over and over again as the liquid began to disappear down his throat. I want to make it stop.

He didn't die, and it didn't stop. As he'd fallen, drugged and overdosed, Miroku had knocked over a large glass bowl, which had woken up his parents. He was sent to a doctor and had his stomach pumped. When the doctor asked why the boy may have overdosed, his father quickly said that earlier, his son was feeling bad. "He must have felt sick," the man determined, "and thought the medicine would make him better." His wife and the doctors bought it.

Nothing changed. Miroku went back home, and absolutely nothing changed. His mom still neglected him, his dad still beat him, and the white-haired, hazel-eyed stranger always waited for him...in the forest.

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Inuyasha stared at his friend, the whites of his eyes huge. Miroku was quivering, despite the blanket wrapped tight around his torso. "Th-tha… that's it-t…" he stammered, shuddering and hiding his face in the folds of the musty piece of fabric. The young man had never told a single soul the story of his abuse and rape. Now the hanyou knew everything. "Y-You th-think I'm d-dirty, right? Go-od, Inuyasha, p-please don't h-hate me…" His words quickly turned into sobs, and his body rocked with tremors.

"Miroku…" the white-haired young man whispered. He didn't know what to do. "Of course I don't hate you… and you're not dirty… Oh god." He tried to move in closer so he could wrap his arms around his friend, but Miroku wouldn't have it. He scooted away quickly, crying harder every time Inuyasha tried to comfort him.

"P-Please don't t-touch me, In-Inuyasha…" the boy rasped, his voice fragile.

The hanyou sighed and dropped to his knees on the floor. He scooted over to where Miroku's head lay, still wrapped in blanket. Inuyasha began to stroke his dark hair softly, grateful that the monk didn't try to get way from him again. As he petted the boy's head, he whispered gentle words to him. "Don't worry," he whispered, running heavy fingers through light strands of hair. "You're safe here. No one will hurt you… no one… as long as I'm around. I understand, Miroku. I'll always be here for you… whenever you need me."

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Hmm.......fluffiness........review!