InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Twelve Days: A Christmas Story ❯ On the Eighth Day of Christmas ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities for the characters in this string of drabbles…especially for the one with wandering hands.

 

Author's Note: Glory be! I'm finally on speaking terms with tall, dark, and tentacular. No author likes to be snubbed by her own muse.

 

 

Twelve Days: A Christmas Story

 

 

On the Eighth Day of Christmas

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The monk surreptitiously monitored his friends, hoping for a clue to his benefactor's identity. Everyone seemed oblivious, though. No one batted an eye when he'd used the new chopsticks to eat his ramen at dinner last night. Either the others had no idea what was going on, or they were doing a very good job of pretending they didn't.

 

By midmorning, the Inutachi reached the source of rumors—a village at the mercy of a power-mad youkai. The bear demon was defeated in short order, and Kagome smiled with satisfaction as another shard was added to their collection. A grateful headman offered them rooms for the night, and Miroku accepted graciously on everyone's behalf. After the noonday meal Miroku went for a short walk with Sango, admiring the delicate flakes of snow drifting lazily down from the steel grey sky. Snow can be pleasant when you know you won't be sleeping in it. Returning later to the room he was to share with Inuyasha, Miroku slid open the shoji screen. As he moved towards his futon, the monk was not completely surprised to see a small bump marring the otherwise smooth bedding. With a quiver of expectancy, Miroku slowly folded back the blanket, and with gentle fingers, lifted the small, glazed teacup. Soft brown without, Ceylon green within, and painted around the rim with a pattern of gingko leaves. Gingko, for endurance and for longevity. At least someone seems convinced I'll live through this.

 

For that Miroku was truly grateful.

 

 

250 words