InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Secret Weapon ❯ Chapter 2

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Sango and Miroku find the nest. Miroku flirts. Sango threatens him with bodily damage. They fight youkai. And Miroku does something really stupid.

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Comedy | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 01.21.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 685 | Status: Work In Progress

Okay, so I have chapter two ready, so I'll post it. I edited this as best as I could but I might have missed some things. So feel free to point them out to me if you notice anything amiss. In a polite manner, of course, because I probably won't listen to you, otherwise.

Disclaimers: Inuyasha does not belong to me. But we all knew that already. So why are you still reading this? Go read the chapter!

Chapter Two

The centipedes' lair was exactly what Miroku thought it would be: Dank, dark, smelly, and nearly cold enough to freeze hell. He shivered involuntarily as yet another droplet of icy rainwater fell from the roof of the tunnel they were passing through and managed to find its way down the back of his already-soaked robes. He was trying his hardest to avoid looking at the litter of bones and other various remains of what had, at one point in time, been living creatures, but considering that if he didn't look he'd end up stepping in them instead, he opted to go for visual effect rather than personal contact with his feet.

One of these days, he was going to have to ask Kagome to bring him a pair of those winter boot things she had worn on several occasions; they truly would have come in handy right about then…

“Why so jumpy, Houshi-sama?” Sango's voice murmured just under his ear, causing him to…well…jump. “You act as though this is the first youkai nest you've ever set foot into. If you can't handle the tension, then perhaps you should wait outside until I'm finished here?”

He bristled momentarily, not liking the slightly-mocking tone her words had taken on, but then relaxed and reminded himself that she hadn't wanted him to come in the first place, and was no doubt goading him on purpose in the hopes that he'd leave in a huff. He smiled grimly in the dark. “If my sixth-sense wasn't tingling so ominously about this mission of yours, perhaps I would be able to find it in myself to relax,” he murmured in reply. “As it is, until the queen is lying dead at our feet, I don't intend to allow you out of my sight for a moment.”

Sango had nothing to say to that, but he could detect the glitter of her widening eyes in the gloom of the tunnel, the faint shock of surprise crossing her face at the fierce protectiveness he'd inadvertently allowed to slip into his words. She opened her mouth for a moment, closed it, opened it, and then closed it again, giving herself a slight shake. He smiled, pleased that he'd managed to fluster her again so easily. Although he couldn't see it, he could well imagine the lovely flush of pale pink spreading over the finely-shaped cheekbones, the expression of flattery and irritation warring in her dark eyes. He knew those expressions well; he'd been witness to them so often as of late.

And then almost as one, they both froze in their tracks as the familiar, soft, slither-tick of many-legged creatures scuttling toward them reached their ears. Kirara growled, leaping from her perch on Sango's shoulder and transforming to her larger size in the same moment with a blaze of fire. Miroku brought his shakujou before him, held at the ready, while Sango reached back for Hiraikotsu. She hesitated as her fingers brushed the well-worn strap, apparently realizing how narrow it was in the tunnel; using the giant bone weapon would be impossible without risking further damage to its structure, not to mention the risk of it hitting one of them instead of the intended targets. Rather, she reached to her side and withdrew her katana, automatically taking a defensive stance, shoulders-to-back with Miroku. Kirara stood tensely before her, fur bristling and fangs bared as she growled a warning in her throat, prepared to defend her mistress to the death. The slither-tick seemed to quicken as the approaching youkai picked up the pace, venomous pincers clicking hungrily at the prospect of another meal.

“Seems we're surrounded,” Sango stated, almost too calmly.

“Yes. It would appear that the remaining wayward children are returning home to their mother,” Miroku murmured in reply, his body tense in preparation for the oncoming fight.

“How many of them are there?” she asked softly, trying to get a judgment of movement; she could see glistening, shadowy forms slithering toward them, the gleam of many red eyes fixed on them with feral hunger.

“I sense no less than fifteen,” he reported. “They are not…pleased.”

Sango gave a snort of laughter, despite herself. “Such a gift you have for understating the obvious,” she told him wryly, and leapt forward with a shout as the first of the centipedes reached them, pinchers agape and dripping with poison. It was dispatched quickly, as was the next, and from then on there was only the fight, the battle cries, Kirara's enraged roars, the rasping shrieks of dying youkai, the jingle of metal rings from the shakujou and the hiss of purifying ofuda as they came into contact with the writhing monsters.

When all was said and done, the three warriors stood in much the same position as they had started out in, looking much more the worse for wear for all of their efforts. They stood among a stinking litter of youkai remains, panting heavily from their exertion; it was not as easy as it would seem to fight off a hoard - no matter how small it was - of youkai in such cramped quarters, especially when said youkai could climb walls and ceilings and thus maneuver much more easily than the humans. Even Kirara had been having difficulty; her fur was matted and stained where more than one youkai had fallen from the ceiling onto her back, attempting to get the drop on her. The humans' clothing was torn, their hair mussed - Miroku's dragon tail had come undone and now his unruly locks hung in messy disarray about his face - and they were covered head-to-toe in the kind of stinking muck they both preferred not to identify.

Surprisingly enough, neither of them had been very seriously hurt in the fight, sporting only a few cuts and bruises; only Kirara was more seriously hurt, sporting a large gash across her shoulders where a sharp pincer had caught her before she'd thrown the youkai off. The poison was slowly working its way into her blood, but as the youkai had been only an infant, it wasn't nearly as deadly as it could have been. Sango, always prepared, easily took care of the danger with a small, clay jar of some foul-smelling ointment, which she rubbed carefully into Kirara's wound. Kirara's own natural healing abilities were fast taking care of the gash itself, already clotted with blood and well on its way to healing. The fire-cat, now back in her more portable size, trilled her thanks, shook herself, and settled down for a much-needed grooming.

Sango shuddered as she picked a slimy clump of…something…off her cheek. “She's got the right idea. I really need a bath,” she muttered sulkily, and heard Miroku chuckle behind her.

“I quite agree with you on that,” he replied cheerfully. “Perhaps when we are finished here, we might seek out an available stream? I'll gladly wash your—”

“Complete that sentence and die, Houshi,” she growled.

“—hair for you,” he finished with an unrepentant grin.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then grabbed him by the sleeve of his robe, lifted her sword - his eyes widened in shock and just a little panic at this - and after a moment of contemplation…proceeded to thoroughly wipe the filthy blade on the fabric before sliding it back into its sheath with a satisfying click.

He gaped at her. She smirked at him, then turned and continued on her way through the tunnel in the direction they'd originally been going. Kirara trilled and bounded after her, her fur once again in respectable order.

Miroku eyed his sleeve with distaste before starting after her, shaking his head ruefully. “Thank you,” he called to her dryly. “I appreciate it. Really.”

“Don't mention it,” came the sweet reply.

~*~*~*~

They found the queen soon enough, as the tunnel abruptly gave way into what appeared to be a small, underground cavern.

Actually, the cavern probably wasn't all that small. It was the fact that three-quarters of it was taken up by the curled, sinewy body of what could only be the queen mother of all centipedes that made it seem so cramped. Sango stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening, despite herself, at the immensity of the thing. She gulped and hastily took a step back, bumping into Miroku.

“Um. I think we found her,” she muttered.

“Indeed,” he replied wryly.

“So…where does she begin?” Sango breathed, a little awed despite herself. She had to admit that this was no doubt one of the biggest insect youkai she'd ever come across, even all balled up as it was. The creature must have been ancient to have grown to such an immense size. She wondered suddenly if she'd been wise, after all, to have sought it out; she had the feeling that this time she was in over her head, but of course her pride would never allow her to admit such a thing. As she examined more closely, she saw that the centipede's gray, sinuous body was covered with pockmarks and scars of previous battles fought, and it suddenly occurred to her that she was seeing such details much more clearly than she should have been able to.

It was then she realized that there was pale light in the cave, streaming weakly from the ceiling high overhead. She could see the cracks in the stone that allowed the daylight to seep into the gloomy cavern, along with the mist of rain that still hadn't let up, making the floor and the centipede's body slick with moisture. She supposed it made sense; the tunnel they'd been traveling had never turned downward very far, but had stayed fairly level. The entrance to the tunnel itself had been in the very same cliff that had damaged Hiraikotsu, hidden behind an overgrowth of boulders and thick, tangled vines. She was certain that the cavern they stood in was, in fact, just another part of that selfsame cliff, hollowed out to suit the queen's nesting purposes.

As such, she realized uneasily, a fight in such a place was highly dangerous. If it got violent enough, the ceiling itself might simply collapse on top of them. While that might effectively take out the queen - after all, she was only an insect and even she would doubtless be unable to stand beneath the weight of several tons of rock - Sango didn't relish the thought of getting caught under it with her.

“Why hasn't she moved?” Miroku was muttering into her ear.

Sango frowned; she'd been wondering that same thing, herself. “She must have gorged recently,” she whispered back. “She might still be digesting whatever it was she ate.”

“In that case, it should be a simple matter to dispatch her, should it not?” Miroku suggested hopefully.

Sango frowned and shook her head. “No, do you think she'd leave herself helpless like that?” she murmured. “See how she's all balled up? Her shell is probably nearly impossible to pierce without a lot of effort, even with your ofuda or shakujou. Her vulnerable parts are well-protected. She's very old, Miroku, so she's probably survived plenty of fights and…um…wh-why are you…looking at me…like that…?” She stammered into silence, her wide gaze fixed on his face, which was fixed on hers with an unnerving expression glowing in his dark, dark eyes.

“You called me Miroku,” he murmured, his voice suddenly deep and husky and…and…

“Wh-what?” she squeaked, suddenly confused.

He leaned closer, eyes lidded, an odd smile twitching about his lips. “You…called me…Miroku,” he repeated, his warm breath drifting across her lips, and a dark flush rushed swiftly to her cheeks.

She blinked, thought for a moment, and realized he was right. “Oh. S-sorry,” she muttered, trying to force the heat from her face.

“Please, dear Sango, do not apologize,” he murmured, his smile slow, sensuous, and completely unnerving. “I've been waiting for a long time to hear my name on your lovely lips.”

He has? “You have?” she squeaked, then cursed herself for urging him on…instead of beating him over the head with a rock as he obviously deserved.

Miroku shot her a boyish grin - the one that usually made her stomach turn back-flips inside of her abdomen - and opened his mouth (probably to say something perverted, she thought dazedly), when a sudden noise abruptly jerked both of them out of the dreamlike stupor they'd seemed to be falling into.

The monstrosity was moving, glistening coils rasping as the queen shifted, pointed legs clicking together as she stretched. And then, the rock-gray folds of her body seemed to part, and from the writhing mass reared the huge head, easily twice Kirara's fully-grown length, gaping pincers as thick as a man's arm and as long as Inuyasha's transformed Tetsusaiga, glowing with a venomous green haze.

“Oh dear. It appears our friend has finished her nap,” Miroku commented idly.

Sango belted him with her fist. “How can you say that so calmly?” she screeched. “We're in for it now, you dope!”

Miroku sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps now you are the one acting jumpy,” he clucked. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

She blinked at him, and he sighed again. “Our secret weapon,” he reminded her, and proceeded to step around her, pushing her behind him as he raised his hand - his cursed hand - and gripped the bespelled beads wrapped around it in preparation to release his most dangerous weapon.

Sango belatedly realized what was about to happen. “Wait, Miroku…don't!” she cried, trying to stop him…but it was too late.

“Kazana!”

~*~*~*~

Oh, and there'sthe evil cliffhanger I was so looking forward to leaving you. Don't fall off now!