A/N: Short little fic about the cutest IY couple that my cousin
Anie and I could think up at three A.M. And since we're
deranged little fangirls, of course it had to include a sexy
bishounen bastard as well as a cuddly uke who tends to get
skipped over in fics. So ignore your preferences and please
enjoy my lovely little fling!
Shippou's POV. -^__^- Everybody say "aww . . . "
"The Color of the Stars"
"The stars are bright tonight," Kagome says softly, giving the
moonless heavens a faint smile. Inu-Yasha nods a little
drowsily and leans in, curling up against her side. The hanyou,
his face almost human for the night, yawns once and then drifts
off. She follows a few minutes later, joining Sango, Kirara the
giant death-kitty, and her undeclared demonic boyfriend in
repose. Only I remain awake, kept up by a memory.
How silly, I think to myself, to be unable to sleep just because
Kagome has mentioned the stars. But my father loved the stars.
He'd pointed out all the constellations, youkai and human alike,
and taught me the name of each and every one. I wish now that I
hadn't let myself forget so many of them. And Kagome had been
right- the stars are brilliant tonight; each one sparkling even
brighter than the Shikon shards our group so devotedly seeks
I would pay with my own blood to learn those long-forgotten
I sigh gently and tear my eyes away from the sky to stare at the
fire. Still, the stars are burnt into my memory, and imposed
over the flame by a trick of my traitorous mind they look like
tiny yellow and orange suns- or worse, foxfire.
I jerk my eyes away again, glaring out at the forest and
muttering a curse.
"Have I upset you?" a mild voice asks, and I jump in surprise as
I realize that Miroku stands among the trees before me, his
darkly clad figure barely visible in the darkness. He takes a
step forward and the starlight strikes him full on. Even
without the moon's steady gleam, his skin fairly glows. And
even as I whisper an apology, oh, how I ache . . .
I have lost count of all the reasons to hate my childish body,
but certainly the greatest of all is this person, this sweet
cherry Miroku. Not only do I appear too young for him, I am not
even the correct gender.
Oh, have I surprised you? Mm, I thought that I might. I am
older than I look, you know- not quite as old as the others, but
still older. Certainly old enough to love someone- not that you
can really put an age limit on such a thing.
And what's wrong with loving him anyway? He's beautiful, and
very powerful . . . and going to die in a few years. Even if he
weren't cursed, he'd probably die in battle before my body was
even mature enough to let him consider me as a possible mate.
That is what I really will mourn when he passes on- the complete
waste it will be. Such a wonderful soul as his should not die,
but live forever and ever. I would give him my body in an
instant if I could- take that horrible curse and candle-brief
life for myself and let him be the immortal kitsune; let him be
truly happy for once without having his impending death forever
hanging over his head. That smile he wears so often would fit a
kitsune well, and he deserves that gift so much more than I.
And it is only an accident of birth that stole it from him and
forced it upon me.
Miroku sits beside me, eyes large and solemn for once, and
remarks, "My father was somewhat fond of stars. He and my
foster father taught me their names. Would you like to know
them too?" The look in his eyes is almost hopeful, and I wonder
for what must be the thousandth time exactly what I am to him.
And still, I am so horribly and painfully grateful that it is
all I can do to nod and not burst into tears right then and
The stars are still burnt into my vision, and for a moment I see
him as if he were among them, a smiling constellation
sacrificing his sorrow to the darkness around him and shining
more brilliantly than any other.
My father told me once that some people believe that the stars
and their various shapes used to be real people whom the gods
immortalized in the sky. I do not claim to be any kind of god,
but if I had the power, I would make Miroku a star without a
moment's hesitation and look to him every night for the rest of
* ende *
. : review or miroku eats you- and not in the good way! : .