InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Youkai and the Exterminator ❯ Chapter Sixteen ( Chapter 16 )

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Jano held his jaw tightly clenched, a dark and deadly expression in his eyes as he walked slowly down the corridor. Tension was evident in his deliberate pace and every now and then his fingers twitched toward the knife he kept concealed in his sleeve.

 

The youkai who walked behind him made no sound, his footfalls bare soft whispers against the stone floor. Jano didn't have to turn around to know exactly where the demon was, his senses were hyper alert, reacting to the presence of someone he personally had always viewed as a threat, even if Sessh didn't share his opinion.

 

Barou-sama gave him the creeps.

 

Jano reflected that Barou would be a fool to try anything within the fortress walls. And he also reminded himself that whatever else Barou was, he would not betray his lord any more than Jano himself would. It didn't quiet his nerves either way, the way he felt was pure hardwired response and trusting Barou's loyalty to Sesshomaru didn't mean that he would ever trust the man himself.

 

Maybe it was the fact that he knew too much about the kind of demon Barou was. Maybe it was simply the fact that he remembered too well how Barou had become clanlord.

 

Those terrorized moments in the deep dark of a forest were memories that Jano tried very hard not to relive. He wondered idly if Sesshomaru felt the same, it was certainly something they didn't ever speak of. However, it was also the reason he knew his lord and friend trusted this particular clanlord more than any other.

 

He had reached their destination and knocked softly on the door to Sesshomaru's private study, sliding it open after a moment's pause.

 

“My lord,” he said quietly, respectfully. He was on duty and this was no time for casual behavior. “Barou-sama has arrived to see you, as commanded.”

 

“Thank you, Jano.” Sesshomaru turned around and regarded the other youkai, who immediately presented him with a deep bow. It was completely unnecessary under the circumstances but Sesshomaru knew that Barou's formality was a matter of habit.

 

He made the tiniest gesture with his fingers and the clanlord instantly rose to look him in the eye and then look away. Barou rarely looked anyone in the eye for long. A faint smile crossed Sesshomaru's lips and he nodded with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head.

“It is good to see you, cousin.”

 

“Likewise, my lord,” Barou's soft voice replied. Standing together, Jano reflected that the two demons were near perfect mirror images of each other. Barou's pitch-black hair was held back in a long braid that nearly swept the ground, a perfect foil for the pure white of Sesshomaru's. The resemblance didn't end there either, bone structure, the cast of their faces, he might have taken them for brothers if he didn't know better.

 

Only Barou's eyes were the color of a storm-gray sea, not the incandescent gold that Sessh and his brother had both inherited from their father. Their coloring was an unusual genetic variation, quite rare among inuyoukai who tended towards darker shades of skin and hair. Although their temperaments and mannerisms were as different as Jano would have believed possible, there could be no mistake that both were the sons of Inutaisho.

 

Almost as if Barou had read his mind, which Jano knew was quite likely, the clanlord glanced over at him before addressing Sesshomaru. “One has heard your brother visits this fortress as well, my lord.”

 

Sesshomaru brushed aside the comment as if it were insignificant to him. “A brief visit, Barou. We have no desire to linger in each other's company. I assume you know why I've requested your presence and,” here he hesitated slightly, “I also seek your counsel.”

 

Barou looked at him, a mild expression on his face and a faint twist of a smile graced his lips. “My counsel, my lord? I am deeply honored that you think there's anything I might offer.”

 

Always the gracious pleasantries first, Sesshomaru reflected, deliberately turning away and walking to his balcony. Barou didn't need to be told to follow him and Jano remained as a night-dark shadow to the foreign lord. Outside, a soft morning wind was blowing; the sky fairly sparkled with sunshine, glistening on the dew that still adorned the ancient stone like tiny jewels. Sesshomaru's fingers felt the dampness of the mist and his eyes were drawn to the distance, where the faint outline of mountains capped with snow shimmered and played with shadows.

 

“I sense your unease,” Barou murmured, standing close to his lord. Sesshomaru could feel Jano's distrust burning like a small fire behind them, his bodyguard didn't care for Barou's presence, liking it even less when the clanlord chose to stand within such intimate distance.

 

Sesshomaru had no such concerns as he had personally nothing to fear from Barou. Both as a matter of loyalty and the fact he knew he could drop his strange cousin with a minimum of effort. Physical combat was not Barou's weapon of choice, which was why he was generally reviled by members of the court and feared by other youkai. Even his own people walked in dread of him.

 

Not Sesshomaru. Barou's unusual abilities would have made him an outcast and had he been born a common youkai, he very likely would have been slaughtered at a young age. Sesshomaru's eyes were drawn to the scar that graced Barou's throat. A long red mark, twisted and puckered with age, signified that this demon had already survived such an attack.

 

It had been Barou's sister that gave him the mark. Their father had pitted them against each other from their birth. Barou never would have survived the attack if his Azaryu mother hadn't known the precise antidote to the poison his sister had used. As it was, Barou said he'd raged with fever for weeks on end and still, in the darkest nights of winter, he felt the blade again.

 

“Something is out there,” he told Barou in his soft voice just barely more than a whisper. “Do you feel it? Creeping like a disease and fouling everything around it. Do you know of this?”

 

Barou nodded slowly, uneasy himself. He'd felt the faint touches of power moving across the land. His spies hadn't found anything, no more than Sesshomaru's had. Both of them were far too experienced to not sense the changes in the wind. Barou had made his observation and patiently waited for the summons he knew would come from the fortress.

 

“I have felt it, my lord. I regret that I don't have more information to offer you. My thought was that perhaps it was no more than a passing vileness, something moving unchecked across the land and that it might feed and then move on.”

 

“You are wrong,” Sesshomaru whispered. Just in that one instant, his own senses sharpened by the nearness of his cousin, he found himself sure.

 

“We are under attack, cousin. I did not bring you here to speak in riddles. I want to know who or what has set this darkness loose. My scouts returned yesterday from the north. Several remote human settlements have been destroyed, no evidence of warfare or attack. Only bodies that had been fed upon by something that defiled the very ground. Its hunger is something that I can feel, its lust for flesh and blood. My scouts dispatched a unit to try and track this monster, see if they could follow it to its master. They did not return.”

 

“Some youkai, some demon let loose to feed,” Barou began softly, standing so close now that Sesshomaru's hair whisked over his face as he spoke. The youkai lord shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder to meet Barou's gaze.

 

“It's more than that. It's growing stronger by the day, working itself up to attack. I can feel its thirst for inuyoukai blood. The humans it has consumed were just the first course. As it grows stronger, it will grow bolder.”

 

Barou's eyes were closed and he leaned his slim hands on the stone railing, his face composed and serene as he cast his mind out over Sesshomaru's domain. “There is no intelligence behind it, no presence save malice. No youki.”

 

His eyes opened. “Could such a creature have formed naturally?”

 

“Perhaps.” Sesshomaru doubted it. It was unlikely in his opinion that such malice had been set loose by nature. This stank of something viler, more familiar and he felt his teeth bare in a snarl when he realized who could have done it.

 

Naraku.

 

Barou noticed the anger seething under his cousin's expression and withdrew a few inches. It would not do to be caught in Sesshomaru's fury. “You know who did it, Sho-kun?” he asked, greatly daring to address his cousin by the old familiar nickname from his youth.

 

Eyes flashing ominously, he turned his citrine gaze on the clanlord and Barou felt a thrill of danger course over his body. “I have an idea,” was the response and Barou found his own lips curving in a bloodthirsty smile.

 

Turning away, he followed Sesshomaru back into the study, knowing better than to press his lord for answers. The controlled violence in Sesshomaru's expression was enough for him. There would be a severe retribution for whoever had been foolish enough to provoke the lord of the West like this. He did not attempt to search his cousin's mind for the name; it was inconsequential and would have been dangerous to try.

 

Unlike other demons, Sesshomaru had a very disciplined mind that even Barou's abilities couldn't read. That was one of the main reasons other youkai avoided Barou. It was unsettling to know that he could ease into their minds, reading their deepest thoughts and desires and then slip back out again unnoticed.

 

Not only that, if Barou so chose, he could inflict a fine, prying madness into those minds he invaded, manipulating them for his own purposes. He didn't need skills of battle to destroy anyone. There had been a time when he couldn't focus this ability, when he was as helpless against it himself as anyone else.

 

He did everything he could to conceal his strange and uncontrollable powers, living for years with the constant fear of discovery and the constant abuse of his family that could sense his oddness. His sister had been the one favored by his people, she had the beauty and charm of their mother, the viciousness of their father. Himishima had been the kind of youkai that thought physical agony might force his son into something more appropriate, more ruthless.

 

Trapped by that and his own abilities growing more and more likely to drive him to madness, Barou had been desperate for rescue by the time his father had made a fatal mistake.

 

He had provoked the Daimyo.

 

It had been Inutaisho that had recognized Barou for something unusual and set about training the young lord's mind into a weapon. After Himishima's death, the Daimyo had made sure that the young clanlord could control himself, defend himself, and focus his abilities. It was the first time the young youkai had ever known a sense of peace and his gratitude to his lord had turned into something more akin to worship.

 

Sesshomaru understood that, he knew the kind of effect his father had on others. It was the main reason he could trust Barou. That kind of loyalty would be impossible to compromise and after Inutaisho's death, that loyalty had found a home in his son.

 

He thought about this even as he turned his mind to more important matters. Other youkai could sense Barou's strangeness and hated it. Even Jano, who was normally easygoing and fully understood the situation, could barely contain the instinct to distrust and destroy what was considered an abomination in youkai eyes.

 

“One understands there are also humans in this fortress now,” Barou said softly, a hint of amusement crossing his face. More than that, the rumors implied that at least one of these humans was very important to his lord.

 

Sesshomaru caught his gaze and actually smiled, a relaxed expression that caught even Barou completely off guard. “There are indeed.”

 

Barou frowned slightly, wondering if Sesshomaru would confirm anything more. It really wasn't his nature to pry into such affairs, although he did understand that such a liaison would cause considerable consternation among the members of the court. Politics muddied his mind and he had no desire to go trailing around in the thoughts of humans or snobbish youkai nobility.

 

He decided to launch a new course of inquiry. “Have you seen Naota recently, my lord?”

 

Sesshomaru stopped abruptly and threw his cousin a look. “Naota has not been back to this fortress since my father died, Barou. You should know that.”

 

“I didn't ask if he'd been to the fortress, my lord. One had heard rumors he'd been seen in the West. I wondered if they were true.”

 

Sesshomaru's face remained icy and expressionless. “I did see him, some months ago. He has since returned to the east and his human life.” He had absolutely no intention of telling Barou what had drawn Naota back to his home territory or what he'd encountered in the mountains. It was simply a personal matter that he did not wish to discuss.

 

Besides, Naota had made it plain on numerous occasions that he wanted nothing to do with inuyoukai, openly preferring to live as a human after the horrendous bloodbath that had followed Inutaisho's death.

 

“Will you stay for the feast tonight?” he asked Barou, knowing full well that his cousin was deeply uncomfortable at large gatherings. He said the many minds of demons blended into a roar that could be quite overwhelming and gave him sickening headaches.

 

Barou smiled shyly and looked away. “Thank you, my lord. I must decline.” His gaze took on a dreamy, unfocused quality and Sesshomaru nodded, knowing that having called Barou's attention to the matter, his cousin would not rest until he found further answers for his lord.

 

oOo

 

“He touched you where?” Makiko asked in shock. She carefully set down the antique ceramic that she'd been cleaning and fixed her sister with a serious gaze. Aiko flushed, not meeting her sister's eyes.

 

“It wasn't so much of a touch, really more of a grope,” she explained.

 

Makiko closed her eyes and wished for patience for what had to be the tenth time that day. “For the love of the gods,” she muttered, drumming her fingers on the table. “First that stupid hanyou and now the monk.”

 

She glanced up at the nervously waiting Aiko. “This is the second time I've heard a story like this.”

 

“Second time?” her sister echoed. The girl scowled darkly, planting her hands on her hips. “Who else did that pervert touch?” It hadn't occurred to her that the monk might have had other victims. Somehow, she found that to be extremely annoying, far more than her own encounter with the overly friendly human.

 

Makiko smiled faintly at her sister's expression. “It was Zumi. She was polishing the floor in the audience hall and he just snuck right up on her. Scared her half to death, poor girl.”

 

She almost wished she'd been witness to the incident. The normally shy, quiet and reserved Zumi had turned around and walloped the living daylights out of that monk. She had honestly thought it was a member of the household guard getting a bit too friendly and reacted accordingly.

 

Of course, the gentle natured girl had felt awful when she saw it was only a human and promptly reported her actions to Makiko, timidly asking if she should be punished. No hands on the humans meant no hands on the humans. Makiko had assured her that her response was completely justified under the circumstances.

 

“We are going to have to deal with that young man,” Makiko said finally, her eyes snapping with indignation.

 

Aiko bit her lip, toeing the floor nervously with her shoe. “Are you going to tell Jano-san?” she asked. In spite of his wandering hands, she really didn't want to see the pleasant faced monk disciplined. She knew exactly what Jano would do to a member of the guard who was caught taking liberties like that.

 

Makiko snorted humorously. “No, I'm not going to tell Jano. He'd find it amusing and I don't think that human needs any encouragement from the likes of him. We will deal with Miroku in a different fashion.”

 

Aiko gave her a questioning look and Makiko waved her hand. “Go find Zumi and bring her here. That human monk is going to find out that one does not take liberties with inuyoukai females and expect there to be no consequences.”

 

oOo

 

Miroku sat down and leaned back against the stone wall, enjoying the feeling of sunshine playing on his face. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. The courtyard was deserted and it seemed like a good place for him to catch an after breakfast nap. Rin and Shippou were playing some game involving chasing a ball; Miroku had politely declined to join them, much to their disappointment. Instead, he settled himself comfortably and composed his face as if meditating.

 

You are still a monk, he reminded himself. You should at least try to act like one now and then.

 

His face still hurt where the young lady had belted him. Considering an inuyoukai's greater strength, Miroku reflected that he was damn lucky she hadn't broken his jaw. He honestly regretted startling that girl so badly; she'd almost been in tears when she realized he was a mere human. His palm itched with a satisfied feeling. Had been worth it, but he was going to make sure he was a bit more careful the next time. The blow had almost had a familiar feeling, like one of Sango's angry retaliations.

 

Miroku sighed and tried to direct his thoughts away from the exterminator, determined to not let himself get lost in thinking about it once again. You should have told her how you felt a long time ago, he chastised himself. Instead you sat back, let her think that you were nothing more than a lech and look where it got you. She's in love with someone else and there's nothing you can do about it.

 

He smiled, that thought almost sounded like something Mushiin would have said. Miroku wondered what his foster father would think if he knew how much trouble his former apprentice had managed to get himself into. He snorted; he'd say exactly what everyone else would say. Your own damn fault for not treating Sango like a woman you loved and respected, someone who you'd be lucky to spend your life with.

 

He'd blown it, pure and simple.

 

A rustle of silk caught his attention and he opened his eyes. And damn near jumped out of his skin when he realized it was Sango's face that was hovering just in front of his, a perplexed expression on her face.

 

“Miroku, you're not actually meditating are you?”

 

Just for the briefest moment, he wondered what she'd do if he took hold of her arms, drew her down to him, and kissed her the way he'd always dreamed of doing. She'd crack his head open most likely. So he swallowed the urge, swallowed the feeling of heartache and offered her a smile instead.

 

“Just reflecting on the constantly changing nature of the universe,” he murmured.

 

She flopped down next to him, a vision in that violet silk, he decided. Sango rested her chin on her fist and gave him her serious look. “Liar. You were thinking of groping some girl. Admit it.”

 

He flushed; she wasn't that far off the mark. Deliberately, he let a twinkle of mischief into his eyes. “Maybe.”

 

She laughed at that and leaned against the wall. “Have you seen Kohaku this morning?” she inquired.

 

Miroku shook his head. “He didn't join us for breakfast, I had been wondering where he was.”

 

It was true, he had thought that maybe Kohaku would distract the relentless Shippou and Rin and give him a few hours of peace. Not that it was his duty to keep the youngsters out of trouble, but he did want to make sure the curious kitsune left Inuyasha and Kagome alone long enough for them to talk. He smiled, hoping that the irascible half-demon didn't throw Kagome's sympathy back in her face.

 

Sango poked his shoulder. “Why are you smiling like that? Is there something going on that I don't know about.” The girl looked around her, her eyes flicking over Shippou and Rin's game. “Where are Inuyasha and Kagome?”

 

So she had noticed. “Um, talking,” was all he could offer. Sango raised an eyebrow.

 

“Talking? What about? Come on, Miroku, you know something I don't.”

 

“I know many things, dear Sango,” he said lightly. She fixed him with that stare of hers that always went right through him. Damn. “It's nothing,” he finally answered. “Inuyasha got some kind of challenge from that demon he beat up yesterday, Makiko insisted he shouldn't accept and he did anyway. Kagome is probably trying to talk some sense into him.”

 

“A challenge,” Sango mused. Like Inuyasha needed a challenge to get in a fight. She felt a flash of sympathy for whoever was stupid enough to provoke Inuyasha when he was already on edge. Vaguely, she wondered if Sesshomaru was aware of it, finding a silly smile on her lips when she imagined the demon lord's annoyance with his combatitive younger brother.

 

Miroku saw the soft smile and the distant look in Sango's eyes and felt his heart weigh down again. “Are you thinking about Sesshomaru?” he asked quietly.

 

Dark eyes met his. “How did you know?”

 

Miroku shifted, the chill of the stone he was sitting on wanted to seep through his robes. “Just a lucky guess, your expression had a certain tenderness to it. I hadn't seen it before.”

 

She blushed, looking at her hands. “I guess I'm pretty obvious, huh? You always could read me so easy.”

 

“I could?” He cocked his head at her. “I thought that you were the one who was always a step ahead of me.”

 

“Two steps ahead of that hand, you mean,” she laughed. Her amusement trailed off when she saw a closed look drop over her friend's face. “Miroku, what's the matter? I...whenever you look at me, you make me think I'm someone you don't know.”

 

The look deepened and Sango felt her heart twist inside her. “I'm sorry,” she whispered at last.

 

He met her eyes and tried to paint his placid smile back on his face. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sango. Why would you say that?”

 

Gods, this was difficult. “I'm just sorry,” she told him again. She wanted to reach for his hand, comfort him somehow. He was her friend, her rock, the one who'd insisted she keep going when she thought she'd used up every last ounce of strength or fortitude.

 

“I'm the one who should be sorry,” he said, surprising her by the harsh tone of his voice. She saw a hint of anger in his jaw, the hard gleam of his eyes before he turned away from her. Sango's heart welled up with emotions, some she couldn't even name.

 

She did love Miroku, she always had. But that love had changed inside her, almost overnight, when the fire of demon's embrace woke the hesitant desires of her body, when a touch like a feather could fan the flames of passion to heights she'd never even dreamed. Oh gods, she'd lost him. Lost her best friend, lost someone who cared for her and hurt him grievously. Sango bowed her head, a single tear hidden behind the veil of her hair.

 

His hand twitched towards hers. “Sango, please,” he murmured. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

 

“You always did upset me,” she confessed, showing him a smile behind the tears. “Whenever you looked at me, I thought you could look right through me.”

 

“Maybe your uniform, that would have been fun,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

 

“Don't,” she said and this time she reached for his hand, holding it tight between hers. He looked startled by her gesture and she squeezed hard, feeling the rough calluses of his fingers, the knotted fabric over his palm and the smooth texture of prayer beads. “No, Miroku. Don't joke about this. I feel like I'm losing you, losing your friendship. I've lost too many people already. Please don't say it has to be this way.”

 

Miroku found himself reacting to the passion in her voice and winced a little, knowing he'd never hear his own name spoken from those sweet lips in the night. “I don't see how we can continue,” he said mildly, keeping them above the water. “You have chosen someone to love, I'm happy for you.”

 

Sango shook her head, her hair flopping loosely around her face, no demon maid had insisted on tying it back after her bath and she'd forgotten. “You say you're happy, but your voice says something else. Miroku, you will hardly look at me anymore!”

 

“Maybe that's because if I do look at you there's a chance someone might cut my head off for it,” he said bitterly. Then he wanted to slap himself, he didn't mean to say it, not like that. No one had threatened him, but he knew damn full well what would happen if he gave them reason to.

 

He saw her flush, then flinch from his words. Slowly, she pulled her hands away and folded them in her lap. “So we are no longer friends?”

 

Miroku shot her a look that questioned her sanity. “I will always be your friend Sango. I had thought that someday I might mean more to you.”

 

Could he not understand that she knew that? Wasn't there any way she could heal this. Suddenly, Sango clearly saw him moving away from her, distancing himself. She couldn't let it go, oh no, she wasn't giving up without a fight. Sango didn't know why her life and heart had taken such unexpected turns; she didn't know why she was head over heels in love with someone that until a few weeks ago, she thought of as pretty close to evil incarnate.

 

She had misjudged Sesshomaru then, she wasn't about to make the same mistake with Miroku.

 

“Why didn't you ever tell me that you were in love with me?” she demanded.

 

His eyes grew wide and he stared at her owlishly. “In love with you?” he asked in a tiny voice.

 

“I knew you were,” she said. “I knew that you were starting to think of me as something more than just a warm body to grope. Didn't you see the way I looked at you?”

 

“Uh, no,” he confessed. “Sango, you smacked me every single time I...”

 

“And you deserved it!” she shouted, angry with him now. Shippou and Rin stopped playing to look at them, confused by the adult conversation only half heard. Sango's cheeks grew red again, realizing that no few inuyoukai had probably heard her exclamation as well.

 

Ruthlessly, she continued before she could lose her nerve. “I wanted to be different,” she muttered. “I wanted you to see me as something more than just a woman you wanted to bed. Couldn't you understand that?”

 

He could, oh damn, but he could. “I was a fool,” he said at last, drawing circles around on the stone paving. “I am the world's biggest fool, the densest man alive.”

 

“No, that's Inuyasha,” she said evenly. She saw the ghost of a smile in his eyes. “I'm sorry, Miroku. I'm so damn sorry it hurts me inside. I never meant for this to happen, I always thought that somehow, we'd both drop our guard and be together. I wanted that, but I'm also the one who was too stubborn. If I hadn't been to damn proud, I would have let you know how I felt and stopped shoving you away so hard.”

 

“Does he really make you happy?” Masochist that he was, he had to know. It hurt to lose her, but if he had to be the one to give her up, then he wanted to at least have the assurance that she was going to be well treated and appreciated. Loved...even by an icy inuyoukai prince if that's what she'd chosen for herself, but damn it to hell, he wanted to hear it from her lips.

 

She took a deep breath. “When I'm with him, I feel like I'm home,” she said simply. Miroku blinked at her, knowing that from Sango, that simple statement held a world of meaning. “When I'm with Sesshomaru, I feel like nothing will ever be wrong again. I feel like I don't have to be strong and brave, I don't have fight all the time.”

 

“Does he love you in return?” He was pushing her, he knew it and she knew it too. Sesshomaru wasn't exactly overflowing with warm emotion; he couldn't see the demon professing his love in flowery declarations. Was it a fair question? No. Was it his business? Absolutely not. Still, he couldn't let her go without asking or rest his feelings for her unless he knew that what Sango felt was being returned.

 

Sango took her time answering, knowing that if she didn't say it just right, Miroku would assume that she was giving herself to someone who didn't give a damn. He would think her a fool and worse, he just might not be wrong.

 

“I don't know what youkai feel, Miroku. It wasn't exactly something my father felt the need to train me in. All I can tell you is what I feel, how I feel. I love him; I know that right down to my soul. It's not just sex.”

 

Gods, could she blush any harder, Sango wondered if there was any blood left in her body that hadn't made a rush for her cheeks at this point.

 

“Not just sex?” he asked, amused. In spite of himself, the perverted spirit inside him just couldn't leave that subject alone.

 

Her eyes caught his. “If you believe there's a difference between just fucking and making love. You should know this, I started it. I offered myself to him. I told myself I was just so grateful for Kohaku that I had to do something, but it was more than that. I wanted him. I wanted to make him want me too, in spite of what he thought about humans. I couldn't see it then, but I know it now.”

 

Miroku shifted and brought his hand up to rub his face thoughtfully. Images of the demon and Sango together flicked across his mind, enjoying each other, Sesshomaru's white hair fluttering across Sango's lovely breasts, her eyes closed in passion as she seduced the lord of the West. He blinked, trying to erase those images before it got him into trouble.

 

It takes some effort, he thought wryly.

 

Finally, he looked up, met her gaze and grinned. “I'm jealous as all hell,” he commented. “Sango, I do care for you. I'm happy to find out, if a bit too late, that you cared for me too. My hands have always been too quick for me, I don't want you to think that all I cared about was just bedding you.”

 

That made her smile and he couldn't help but add, “Although seriously, I really cared a lot about bedding you. And that's because you have to be the most amazing woman I've ever laid eyes...or hands...on. Sesshomaru doesn't know how lucky he is.”

 

Her eyes started to twinkle. “I'll be sure to remind him every chance I get. Are we still friends, you perverted excuse for a holy man?”

 

“I'm whatever you need from me. Always.” Miroku saw her eyes light up at his words and was proud of himself. It didn't hurt so much anymore, that she'd never be his. He'd regret it until his dying day, but seeing her happy meant more to him than he'd ever realized. Sitting in the sunshine, he found it was going to be enough after all.