|Born One Foot In The Grave
Author: YamiPaladinofChaos PM
Some are born closer to death than others. A chronicle of Miroku's early life. [Part Two] “By living, Miroku, we fight Naraku every day.”Rated: Fiction T - English - Miroku - Chapters: 2 - Words: 998 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Updated: 09-25-05 - Published: 09-21-05 - id: 2588764
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer- I don't own Inuyasha.
Despite having been so young, Miroku clearly remembers the day his life changed.
It was an innocent question, or so he believed. His father had just a bear youkai, and was forced to use the Kazaana in front of his son, as he had done in a few occassions.
However, today... today Miroku wanted to understand.
Wanted to know.
How was a child supposed to understand that ignorance was bliss?
"Father? Where did you get the Kazaana?"
His father, normally so serene and gentle, became violently disturbed, actually spinning abruptly to face his son. His face was one that Miroku could never forget, full of suffering and pain, and even tears.
After all, he could see just where his own son's life would lead.
To the grave.
"It's a very long story Miroku. Perhaps we should find a place to rest first." He replied softly, a sort of cold mask enveloping his face.
Disturbed by his father's reaction to the question, Miroku followed silently.
After the usual line and pointless exorcism, his father sat the two of them in a room, closed the doors, and left only one candle burning.
His father's face was that same stony mask, but those eyes were full of sorrow.
Miroku found himself afraid.
"My son... the Kazaana is a curse, placed upon our family by a demon named Naraku." The tale was spun, the deeds of the past unveiled. And with each word, a pit of fear grew in Miroku's stomach, festering and twisting and churning, a disease that spread throughout his body.
But the finale of the story hit Miroku the hardest.
"And if I fail in this task, Miroku... the Kazaana will pass to you, and the task of defeating Naraku and freeing our family from this wretched fate as well."
The boy could not understand.
What child is ready to know that he will die within a the next two decades? Or that his father would die within the next year or so?
His father's eyes were sad, and the tears flowed freely. "I am so sorry my boy." He whispered quietly, embracing his son. "I wish it could be some other way." His father pulled back, his face twisted into a far too cheerful smile, though his eyes remained sad.
"However, this gives you a valid reason to try and get every woman you can, my boy. The family line must continue on, after all." He laughed, a tad forced, and patted his son on the back.
At his son's still too serious look, his father looked at him with a serenity that Miroku was jealous of. "My son, one day Naraku will be brought to justice. And someone with our blood will be there to do it. One day."
And on that day, Miroku made a vow to never have to say these words to his own son.