InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Winds ❯ The Night Breathes ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1

The Night Breathes

 

When the night had quieted, and he could be sure of leaving in a silence so certain no one would know, Miroku crept away from the embers of the evening's fire and out into the trees. The night had been full of wind, so much so that even Kagome's strange fires from the future would not easily light. It had been Inuyasha who eventually succeeded, and his boasting had induced Sango to whack him, Shippou to taunt him - and then of course Kagome used her subjugation spell to punish Inuyasha for dangling Shippou by the tail.

All in all, a normal evening - but he had not joined in their banter, or even risked Sango's ire by reaching for her behind. More and more lately, he had begun to distance himself from her, afraid in more ways than one. His right hand contracted, holding the binding beads tightly. What if he should die, and she should be alone again? Or if he should be swallowed by his Kazaana, which seemed more and more likely as the days went by. Sango did not deserve to lose her life a second time - and while they searched daily for Naraku, they had no guidance or direction. He was sure Inuyasha would never admit it, but these days they were wandering more and more randomly, following every whisper of a rumor, every trace of a hint.

So he left them at night, and wandered himself, thinking between the trees while the birds were quiet. Tonight, the moon was nearing its full, and he had waited longer than usual to make sure Inuyasha was asleep. Probably he would not care, but it was not something he wished mentioned in the daylight, when he would have to explain.

Miroku was tired, so very tired, of explaining. There were days when he felt he was the only one left still serious about finding the jewel shards - silly, of course, but it brought him back to his first days of traveling with company. He trusted Kagome because she was pretty, and that was his weakness - he knew it, and so what? There were far worse things that could be wrong with him.

And Inuyasha? After the first few battles, there was no reason not to trust Inuyasha, except for the sneaking desires of his demon blood. Kagome controlled him, and was controlled by him, while neither of them admitted this, and she was from the future. The possibilities and the practicalities were far too daunting - he had given up without really trying.

The list of names that he had become acquainted with since joining them was grown, and his cares were grown with it - Sango, Kohaku, Shippou, Sesshomaru, Kikyou - how many were enemies, and how many were friends? He knew nothing about Kikyou but what Inuyasha would tell him; nothing about Sesshomaru but what Inuyasha would tell him, and Inuyasha did not tell.

Sango could not mention her brother's name without tears in her voice, if not on her face. Even if she refused to admit it, Miroku knew that the shard in her brother's back was his death. Inside him, it was tainted, and controlled. Removed, his life went with it. Deathly, and simple - the traps Naraku planted that worked always were.

Naraku!

That was the name he himself had brought, the gift of knowledge, but it had not really helped them much. Knowing their enemy had not aided them in defeating him, and though each time they met their little group had gathered greater strength, so had Naraku.

Miroku stopped walking, and held his bound hand up in the light streaming off the moon. He had made no mention of it to the others, but the Kazaana was growing. More than growing, in fact, it was exploding across the surface of his hand, as though making up for lost time. For a while, it had seemed to stop growing at all.

Now I will be lucky if I make through another year. Since I was old enough to see over the autumn grasses, I have hunted Naraku. Since the day my father was devoured, I have lived in fear. Will the end be worse than the fear, I wonder?

His hand dropped to his side, and he sighed. The power was useful, and without it he doubted if they would have come this far, but the fact remained: it would destroy him.

Suddenly, he was on his guard. The wind was rushing again, but this time he thought he could discern the reason. A broad, white feather was making itself visible in the sky, peeking from between clouds, but while his eyes followed it the presence of jyaki that had alerted him was growing stronger and closer.

Why aren't you coming down, Kagura?

The moment after the thought, he felt an edge of bamboo press lightly against his throat, and a noise sent a chill down his back. It was a strange noise to create fear, but he had heard it too many times. What followed was never nice.

Kagura's fan slid open, ss-ss-ss-tlink - soft with the whisper-ruffle that silk makes as it slides against itself.

“You are not very prudent, to wander alone in these woods at night, Houshi. It is lucky for you that you are my intended prey, so that others are not as likely to seek you out.”

He turned so that he could see her face with the corner of his vision. She licked her lips in a disturbingly arousing way. She was not moving, and seemed in no hurry, but he had to answer her.

“I am your prey? I thought you were the goad that Naraku liked to send after Inuyasha.”

She bared her teeth, and flung him out of her grasp. A pulling wind grew around her feet, tousling the grass, but despite the reddening of her eyes nothing came to harm him. While he stood, she spoke, and Miroku's eyes focused on the hand that held her fan, the fingers tight and white, the claws trembling.

“I am no one's goad. Naraku may use me, but he does not control everything I do. My heart is his - my mind and my power are my own to use.”

Miroku's face contorted, and he took a step backwards, his whole being writhing with disgust.

“Your heart? You not only serve Naraku, but you are his lover? And here I did not think you could be more vile.”

That was a mistake!

Kagura's grimace of rage was pure fire, though she was wind. True to her nature, she flew at him, and the hands that clutched his shoulders and dug claws into his flesh shook him like a rag doll. Her kimono blew in the gusts of her passion, which tore the order out of her hair and made the trees around them lash their heads in protest.

“You dare call me vile! You dare, when you know nothing of me, nothing! He has my heart, you descendent of whores - my heart. Feel this!”

She dropped him, and he lolled for a moment, dizzy. She took his hand, and placed it on her chest. For a moment, wide-eyed with incredulity, he thought she was trying to make him grab her breast. As she grew still, and he became more aware of his own pounding heartbeat, he finally noticed her lack. The perfect skin under his hand was silent, and though warm, had no pulse.

Kagura saw his awareness, and pulled away, drawing back into herself like a neatly rolled ball of yarn, tucking all the loose ends inside. A dozen expressions were scrabbling on Miroku's face, but his heart was full of a gut-wrenching sympathy. She was his enemy - he knew it, and she had proved it enough times - but they shared something with each other that they shared with no one else.

“You are not the only one, Kagura. Naraku's curse rules my life as well.”

He held out his right hand, wrapped as always in black and indigo cotton, tightly tied with shining, priestly beads. Her fingers touched his palm, feeling the power that was hidden, the draw of energy so close to her own soul.

“Naraku despises the wind. It is free, as he cannot ever be, so he hates it, and twists it, and desires others to hate it. So it always is with him; he will never really be alive.”

She withdrew abruptly, rubbing her fingers against each other as though they had been dipped in oil.

“I came here with a purpose, and you have disrupted it.”

Miroku bowed in apology, only half-mocking.

“Then please forgive me. What is your purpose - and how can I be sure that it is not Naraku's?”

Kagura gestured wanly at her own chest, and smiled faintly.

“My purpose is to rid you of your curse, Houshi. As for surety, I can give you nothing more than what you now know - and my word, but I doubt that you would trust it. Is it so hard for you to believe that I would want my freedom from Naraku? Every bit of power he loses over you and your friends is distressing to him. When he is distressed, he comes out of hiding, for it is then that is he less willing to leave his destructive endeavors in the hands of we `children'.”

Her smile thinned, and Miroku did not notice that his hands had clenched into fists.

“I know how to rid myself of my curse, Kagura. I must rid myself of Naraku for that to happen, and it seems to me that such a task would be made considerably easier if you were not around to help him.”

He squared himself, and swung his staff across his body, preparing for battle. His eyes hardened, but Kagura only laughed.

“It would be extremely foolish of you to attempt destroying me on your own, Houshi. Since you are so untrusting, I will finish quickly, and depart.”

She raised her arm, and a whistling wind passed between them. Miroku looked up quickly, and saw the drifting feather that had first distracted him begin a slow descent.

“In the south of this land, there is a mountain blessed by the hermitage of an ancient saint, whose name and history are all but lost to time. This holy man was said to have imparted his sacred essence to a shrine of stones, deep within the caverns of the blessed mountain. Any who pray before this shrine with pure thoughts in their heart and a desire for good will be cleansed of all evil.”

She flung out a casual hand, to point at his Kazaana.

“Naraku's curse is powerful evil, but this saint is more powerful still. Naraku sought to use this saint to his advantage, as he has done before, but the pure barrier of the mountain repulsed him, and he could work no evil there.”

The feather landed, and she climbed onto it gracefully, and knelt in its center. As it was rising, she looked at him, and Miroku felt pierced by the intensity of her gaze.

“Your time is running out, Houshi. Do not waste this chance.”

She was gone on another gust of wind, and he stood for a long while staring up into the sky, watching until the feather had disappeared in the night distance, another glint of white in the star-jeweled sky.

Behind him, there was suddenly a great deal of noise in the brush, and then Inuyasha leapt free of the clinging leaves and their shadows, swinging tetsusaiga as though that would make an enemy appear.

“Miroku! I smelled Naraku - where is he!”

Miroku sighed, and gestured vacantly around the clearing.

“Does it look like Naraku is here, Inuyasha? He never misses an opportunity to taunt you, now does he? You were sound asleep when I got up - are you smelling Naraku even in your dreams now?”

He was surprised with himself; there was no reason to lie to Inuyasha, even though it was not really a lie. Naraku had not been there, but Kagura did carry his scent, according to Inuyasha's nose. There was no reason to hide her presence, either, despite the inexplicable nature of the encounter, but he did not want to be involved in another session of `I wonder what this truly means'.

“I don't dream about Naraku, baka! And it does smell like him, so don't even try it again!”

Miroku leapt at the opening, trying to distract with the thoughts he knew Inuyasha expected from him.

“I see, forgive me Inuyasha. I should have realized that with Kagome to distract them, Naraku would never have a possibility of entering your dreams. I wonder, do you dream about Kagome one night, and Kikyou the next night - or are they both in the same dream? Or perhaps - ”

Inuyasha's shout of rage made Miroku wince - if he had any luck, the girls wouldn't wake - and he turned and ran back toward the campsite, dodging fists and branches with equal skill. When he was safe in his bedroll and Inuyasha was occupied quietly muttering and smashing his fist repeatedly into his chosen tree, Miroku turned onto his side and stared out into the dark.

He almost let out a gasp of pain as he turned. When she had shaken him, Kagura's claws had made perfectly aligned wounds on both his shoulders. How had he not noticed until now? The punctures had bled freely onto his robes, and the blood glistened darkly on the indigo fabric. He was lucky Inuyasha had been very distracted, or there would have more than just Naraku's scent to explain away. He touched the claw wounds gently, wincing, and sighed.

Could it be true? Was there a way out, after all? He didn't want to share his hope, or the snakes-head of suspicion that he could not contain. Kagura aided Naraku - she was his servant, his sorceress, and his slayer - but now that he knew why, his earlier sympathy returned and lined itself with pity. His thoughts had already reshaped, marking her more tragic than evil.

--My Apologies…somehow this chapter was deleted…??...or something. But, it's back now!