A/N: Okay, so this is a one-shot song fic to the song Pink by Aerosmith. It's really a fun song, and as always with my song fics I highly suggest you download it and listen to it while reading the fic, cause it's just a whole lot more enjoyable that way.
I had heard this song ages ago and loved it, but it wasn't until recently that I popped an old CD into my car stereo and when this song came on as I was driving by myself I got to thinking about this little scene in my head. I was wary about going this much into Miroku's head, though, and since he was the only one I could see this song with, I put off writing it. And it wasn't really easy for me to write because I really had to go into his head to write this fic and it was sometimes a little uncomfortable…however, Puck really pushed for it, so…*shrugs* There you go…(He really likes writing in Miroku's pov, I guess. )
Anyway, if you don't like it, blame him, not me. I'm innocent I tell ya! Innocent!
*Puck raises an eyebrow* "Well, after taking that little foray into Miroku's mind, you're not so innocent, anymore, are you?"
*Em chucks a book at his head* Shuddup!
So, yeah, I know I've been doing a lot of one-shots based on songs, but you know, I get my best inspiration based on songs, so…and here went Miroku having to get in on the act…you shoulda seen the way it left Puck for hours afterward (the laughter of the female fae he chased all over my apartment is still ringing in my ears), so I hope you all enjoy the fruits of my sacrifice! ^_^.
Ratings: Yeah, so this is a peek into Miroku's head, so that should be enough to warn you about ratings. It's not really dirty, nothing explicit is explained or detailed, but it does get a little grimy, if'n you know what I mean? ^_~.
'Up, down, up, down, up, down…' Miroku's head shifted to the side as he timed the movements to the beat of her steady pace. 'Such a steady, even pace…' he mused, quite philosophically, he thought. Steady like sound of her feet hitting the compact dirt in the companionable silence that had settled over them…steady like a heartbeat…like his heartbeat…
Miroku blinked himself out of his thoughts and looked up, smiling inquiringly at Sango. "Yes, Sango?"
"Are you certain you wish to walk behind me?" she asked, the tone of her voice clearly confused.
Miroku could tell she wanted to ask why he insisted on walking behind her, but was stopping herself from going that far. "Quite certain, Sango-sama," he insisted.
"But there's plenty of space for both of us to walk…" she was somewhat suspicious of his decision. Finally, that suspicion got the better of her notions of propriety. "Why?"
"I enjoy the view…"
He had answered all too truthfully, without bothering to think about it and at her question, realized what he had said. 'Kuso!' he cursed himself. "Eh…" he hedged. "The view," he motioned around them. "It is a fine view for…" he faltered his eyes searching around him at the lush forest, finally settling on her inquiring eyes once again. "Covering your behind…" he mentally slapped himself. "…er…back." 'Quick thinking, Miroku,' he berated. "To make certain that nothing takes you from behind…" 'E gads, monk!' he berated himself. 'You can do better than that!' He forced a pleasant looking smile on his face, hiding the anxiety from his eyes. "Or sneaks up behind us and…" he searched for a reason. "…and if it does, I am more free to use the Kazaana without fear of doing you…eh…harming you should you be too close."
Internally, he was wincing, waiting for the inevitable clonk on the head. 'Next time, monk, don't open your mouth until you are certain of what you're going to say!' Suddenly, he was very glad he had stayed a few paces behind her. Of course, Hiraikotsu could reach easily, but…
She blinked at him for a few moments and he took the time to detail the pinkish tone on her eyelids…the soft pink of her pursed lips…he followed the line of color along the swell of her breast and down past her ribcage, the delicate waist…curving around her delectable hip and…
Noting that she had lost his attention to other matters and unable to do anything since he had not attempted to breach propriety by touching or comment, and she couldn't really stop where his eyes traveled, she huffed and turned, continuing to walk.
'Ah, yes…' he finished following the trail of pink on her armor…to the perfect swell of her backside. His head inevitably cocked to the side again as he watched the perfect mound shift up and down with each step.
'Like a…pink…heartbeat…' he thought as he followed. 'Undulating up and down, up, down, up, down…'
'Funny,' he thought idly. How he never really noticed how warm the color made him feel. Warm like he was wrapped up in the folds of a warm blanket in front of a roaring hearth…with her…with her blankets…in her blankets…in her folds…
He mentally shook his head and suppressed a groan, but the steady up, down continued and it was hard to discontinue his previous train of thought.
'Warm? It was damn hot…' he thought. He smiled to himself. Just like it would be with her arms wrapped around him...he would be warm indeed with her cuddled in his arms…wrapped around her…held inside her…
He shook the train of thought once again. 'Thought of cuddling, good,' he told himself. 'Thoughts of more…baaad…' he chastised. He refrained from lifting his hand to the new bump that was still sore on the crown of his head. 'Very bad,' he amended. He realized his head had turned slightly to the other side as his gaze had shifted once again to the pink spot, taunting…teasing him…
Up, down, up, down, up down…
'Oh, yes…very bad…' he exhaled. 'He had been a very bad boy…'
He blinked himself out of those thoughts and straightened his head, his bearing once more restored to its proper level. Calm, cool…collected. But inside…inside he was quite the opposite…he was boiling, blistering from the heat that one…one little color brought out in him.
'Ah, pink,' he sighed mentally. 'It's my new obsession,' he admitted to himself. 'Pink,' he repeated, his steps unconsciously falling into the rhythm of her up, down, up, down… 'it's not even a question.'
He stopped walking inches shy of tripping over a rock when he realized that Sango had turned around to glare at him. He rose his eyes, easily slipping into his innocent face, it was like breathing for him now, after all, and he smiled at her. "Did you need something, Sango-sama?"
Sango narrowed her eyes at him, but he was too far away from her to have actually been trying anything, so she frowned, trying to figure out what it was. "What are you doing?" she asked finally.
Miroku focused on her lips and his smile spread into a grin. 'Pink on the lips of your lover, ´cause…' he inhaled deeply and looked up at her eyes. 'Pink is the love you discover.' "Merely walking, why do you ask?"
If at all possible, her eyes narrowed even further. "You seem suspicious," she spoke.
Miroku found her suspicion highly amusing, but he covered it in mock offense. "Why, whatever do you mean, Sango-sama?" With what Miroku could've sworn was an adorable little growl, she turned around and continued walking.
Miroku's grin upped several decibels in wattage. 'Up, down, up down,' he followed happily.
He went into a sort of trance, watching her walk in front of him, her steps so steady and…her…her movements making the pink of the tail end of her armor move so deliciously. And in this trance, much like the trances he entered when he really mediated…he remembered things…He remembered when they had stumbled across a cherry tree with the ripe fruit so red and ready to eat tantalizingly on its branches. They had been so sweet, and soft and so delicious…especially as he had watched the juice dribble down Sango's chin and her laughter in surprise. How he had wanted to taste that juice, tinged with Sango. The juice had started out being red, but had looked almost …he grinned inwardly…almost pink as she savored the treat and then hastily wiped at what had dribbled down her chin. . 'Pink,' he thought. 'As the bing on your cherry,' he improvised. He laughed silently. He liked that. He could almost do a poem about the color Pink and Sango, couldn't he? 'Yes,' he decided. Everything revolved around Pink.
'Pink,' he tried again and paused, thinking. There was so many things about Sango that reminded him of the color pink. Just as the color itself was a tantalizing mixture between the fire passion of red and the virginal purity of white, Sango was…was… 'Pink,' he inhaled through his teeth at the thoughts crowding his mind. '´cause you are so very…' his thoughts trailed off as Sango glanced back at him at the sound he had made. He grinned quickly at her and swatted an imaginary insect off his arm. "Insect," he told her by way of an explanation.
Unconvinced, but unable to say much else, Sango turned again and continued walking, muttering under her breath.
Miroku relished the look in her eyes. No one would ever really know this, but he did things to make her mad just to see that spark of fire in her. That look so close to passion, ardor…'Pink,' he mentally continued his poem. 'it's the color of passion…' he tried to think of another rhyme, enjoying himself immensely. 'Cause today…' he faltered, trying to think of a rhyme for passion. 'it just goes with the fashion…?' he tried out in his head. He almost laughed out loud. Sango was not what one would call fashionable, but still…from the moment he saw her in that armor, he had known…
'Pink,' he thought. Oh, yes…he had known, 'it was love at first sight.' He ignored the voice in his head that said that he had said that quite fervently about many a girl even before he had met Sango, but…he almost tripped over his robes as he realized…but not seriously since he had met Sango. Oh, sure, he flirted, and he was as hentai as they expected him to be, but not with as much…gusto…as he had before he met Sango. Now, he was awed to realize, it was mostly just to watch her eyes flare and the emotion light her features.
His eyes trailed up from her adorable plump behind to take in the rest of her. She was beautiful, no doubt, but there was more he saw in her now when he looked at her body, wasn't there? There was a strength to her step, her hips which although he knew would be good for child bearing, also seemed to be the exact right shape to wrap his arms around. He looked at the dip in the small of her back and watched the sinewy muscles move up the smooth, straight line of her back. Although the armor covered it, he knew what he would find there…the scar that marred her otherwise flawless skin. He could see it without having to see it, the few times that he had actually gotten a glimpse of her bare flesh more than enough to imprint the image of her perfection and her pain permanently in his memory. 'when I turn out the light, and…' he fought with his memory to think of words to describe this feeling of weightlessness and flight he had every time he woke up from a dream where they were together. An epiphany came in the memory of the origami like butterfly Kagome had brought for Shippou. The butterfly shaped kite had been tied to a string and had coasted casually on the wind currents, its pink, blue and purple colors shining brilliantly in the sun as they had each taken turns holding the string and feeling the tug of the breeze under the flapping of the paper. 'Pink gets me high as a kite,' he added to the poem in his mind. It was his best simile yet. It was exactly as he felt the few times she smiled at him or in the dark of the night as they all slept around him and he actually allowed himself the luxury of dreaming about their future together.
He smiled to himself, a feeling of peace stealing over his senses. 'And I think everything is going to be all right,' he added. His smile faltered momentarily as he thought of where they were heading…another rumor of another jewel shard, another step closer to meet their destiny and by nightfall, who knew if all of them would be alive. It was the same every time they embarked on one of these, and yet…he really felt that everything would be fine…they would make it through this…'No matter what we do tonight.'
The rhythmic motions of her step called to him again and he felt the peace vanish in a quick, deep surge of longing. Mmm…
He shook his head. 'Pink…pink…something else pink…' the pretense of the poem had actually allowed him to go more than 10 minutes alone with Sango without needing to touch her, but if he didn't continue this poem, he might not be able to hold out much longer.
An image popped into Miroku's mind and he had to restrain himself from not laughing. It was an image of a gawky looking mammal that he had spotted in one of the spell books Kagome had brought with her. It had seemed like some form of crane, but…not. Perhaps some deformed crane demon, only, Miroku well remembered, the mirth it had brought to everyone as they looked on…only the bird had been a bright pink. He strained his memory, trying to call up the name Kagome had given the strange fowl. He nodded sagely as the word came to the forefront. 'Flamingo,' he thought proud to have recalled such an odd sounding name for such an odd looking bird. And yet, he remembered that something about the bird had seemed almost regal to him, poised, as it's long skinny leg held up the bulky center body and elongated neck…perfectly balanced on only one leg as the other was bent alongside the first…
Much like Sango, if he thought about it. She was incredibly poised, regal, no matter what got thrown her way or what she was put through. She was always calm and managed to think logically…even to a certain extent, when dealing with her brother…Miroku pushed aside the dark feelings that overcame him at the thought of the pain in her eyes and forced a smile. She could keep her balance even,' he thought. 'If she was only on one leg.' He chuckled internally at the thought. 'You could be my flamingo,' he added, relishing in the thoughts of the look on her face if he were ever to call her his little flamingo as a pet nickname. He had to physically stop himself from laughing as he could imagine his response to her fiery demand. '´Coz pink,' he could imagine himself telling her simply. 'is the new kinda lingo.'
He stopped himself when he realized he had reached out his hand to touch her and quickly swatted at his arm when Sango glanced back at him. "There are insects everywhere, Sango-sama, do you not feel them?" he asked innocently.
Sango shook her head carefully and turned around once again, preferring to continue to walk, ignoring his strangeness than commenting or beating her head up over what he might be doing. They had been alone together for something like 15 minutes now and she hadn't once had to swat his hand away or beat him with Hiraikotsu…that was a record…not since the days of Mt. Hakurei had such a feat been accomplished. Best she not mention it…
She looked up at the sky as she walked under a cloud and realized the dark clouds were gaining in number. "It seems as if it might rain soon, Houshi-sama," she told him without bothering to look back.
Miroku looked up at the sky. "I believe we will be at our destination before the sky breaks, Sango-sama," he told her calmly.
"Hm," Sango said noncommittally. "Perhaps we should have asked Kagome-chan for her um-brell-ahs just the same," she answered.
"Um…?" he started, not remembering to what Sango referred before the memory hit him and he smiled at the memory of the strange contraptions. "Yes, perhaps," he answered good-naturedly. He grinned to himself as he remembered that one of the umbrellas Kagome had brought one time had been pink. He sighed happily. Pink was everywhere.
'Pink like a deco umbrella,' he added to his poem. Images of Sango and he huddled close under the pink slick material as the water fell around them, as if they were in their own little world…inside their own little hut, almost…he wondered how he could fashion holding an umbrella as he kissed her? He would want to hold her to him with both arms…maybe they could…it wouldn't be easy, but let it never be said that he didn't have imagination…he grinned at the possibilities. Yes, umbrellas could indeed be used for more than just keeping off the rain, as Kagome-sama had told them once.
He watched Sango walking and smiled wickedly. 'What would she say if I told her what I really thought as we huddled under Kagome-sama's umbrella?' he wondered. If he got that bump just from brushing his hand across her hip…okay…her lower hip…well, more like her rump, but still, if he got that hurt just from a light brushing, imagine what she'd do to him if he told her what he was thinking? He grinned wickedly at the thought. Oh, the possibilities. 'It's kink,' he admitted, returning to his poem. 'but you don't ever tell her.'
He sighed internally, allowing a slow grin to overtake his lips. Oh, yes, Pink, he spoke to the color. 'It was love at first sight.' Strangely, he realized even in the darkest of night, when the fire had died down to mere embers and the moon was either kept out by the roof over their heads, hidden behind a cloudy sky, or absent entirely, even on those dark nights, he could always make out the outline of Sango's sleeping form, the curves of her body rising and falling like mountains in the distance.
Tonight's darkness, he vowed, would be no different…he would watch over her as she slept off the wariness of the day once again…he would watch her sleep, hear her breathing, and finally, when he finally slept, dream of the wonderful color pink… 'Everything is going to be all right,' he mentally repeated a previous line from his makeshift poem.
He frowned. Well, repeating lines wouldn't do at all, he thought. It was time to come up with new lines. He grinned somewhat wickedly as he realized the first line that came to his mind. 'I want to be your lover,' he would proudly continue the poem if he ever had the courage to recount this poem to her face to face and aloud. He frowned. Now, what rhymes with lover?
He was at a loss.
'Cover?' He shook his head. 'No, too base.'
'Rover?' he tried. 'No, that doesn't really rhyme.'
'Rubber?' He cocked his head to the side. Was that even a word? He seemed to remember hearing it somewhere…he rubbed his chin in contemplation as the jingle of his staff rang out in the silence of the forest. "Ah, yes, of course," he spoke aloud as the memory came to him.
"What was that?"
Miroku started out of his thoughts and rose a brow at Sango. "Pardon?" he inquired.
"You spoke," Sango pointed out, looking at him.
"I did?" he asked. Had he said that aloud? What had he said? "What did I say?" he asked.
Sango sighed, clearly exasperated. "You said, 'Ah, yes, of course,'" she reminded him.
"Did I?" He queried. "Hmm…" he let his sentence trail off and smiled placidly at her.
"Well?" she prompted, clearly holding a very thin tether on her patience.
"Oh, was of no consequence," he said breezily. "Simply the answer to a question Moushin had asked me long ago and I only now came to realize the answer while in light meditation," he lied smoothly.
"Humph," she mumbled disbelievingly and continued to walk, her hair swaying temptingly across her back.
Miroku smiled. 'Yes,' he continued his previous train of thought. 'Rubber was a word, and it was the word that Kagome had used to describe that pliant and yet surprisingly strong material that the gloves she had brought were made of. Yes, he thought…a hungry kind of smile gracing his usually peaceful features. 'Rubber would do nicely…now…' he thought. How shall we use it? He remembered thinking, when Kagome showed it to him, how strange it felt going on his hand, how it seemed to stretch to fit his much larger hand and how when he slipped it on, it seemed to heighten all the nerve endings in his hand, making the feeling of touch all the more prominent. He almost laughed. 'I want to wrap you in rubber,' he added to his poem, chuckling slightly under his breath at the image it produced. Oh, certainly, he could see himself telling Sango that, no problem…and then when she killed him, he could hope to hold on to this plane and haunt her as a ghost. He couldn't help but grin regardless as he imagined Sango dressed head to toe in pink rubber.
He could see the landmarks that signaled they couldn't be far from where Inuyasha and Kagome agreed to meet them, and if he strained he could almost smell the woodsmoke of the fire they must have started up ahead. If he wanted to finish this poem, he would have to be quick about it.
'As pink,' he started, thinking that a simile couldn't hurt the piece. 'As…' he thought briefly. Oh, he could see her wrapped in another kind of pink, even if it wasn't rubber…pink linens, bright pink bed sheets Yes, that would also do nicely, to see her dark hair contrast against the pink of the pink below her. 'As pink as the sheets that we lay on,' he composed the line together. 'Cause pink....' he faltered. Well, now, what rhymed with lay on? Sayon? He shook his head. No, that was the name of one of Mushin's mistresses, hadn't it? Kalon? He winced. That was the name of one of the daughters of a manor house he had visited some time before meeting Inuyasha and Kagome. What did he know that was pink? Maybe he should start there? Well, he had pretty much mentioned everything he could think of. Not much in these days had such bright colors, other than women's kimonos and seeing as how Sango didn't really wear very many of them, he didn't dare think of putting the color of another woman's kimonos to Sango's poem.
Color…color…what had color? He smiled to himself as the answer came to him as if whispered from Buddha's lips. Shippou's coloring sticks, of course! And what had Kagome told him they were called in her time? He grinned like the cat who had eaten the canary.
'Cause pink is my favorite crayon,' he added, quite pleased with himself. He made a mental note to ask Shippou if he would consider parting with the stick of the particular color. He would love to keep it with him, as a sort of memento of the poem which he would never share with another soul, but perhaps he could write it out when no one was looking? And perhaps with Shippou's color stick. That was a fine idea.
Now, to finish the piece…
Perhaps he should add the repeating verse here? Yes, here he would repeat the verse…he tried out the verse in its entirety. 'Pink, it was love at first sight,' he grinned. "Pink, when I turn out the light,' of course that line would be part of the repetitive verse. 'Pink, it's like red…' he paused a moment. That was new, but it was certainly true. It was like the passion of red, but…'It's like red, but not quite,' he added to the poem.
So content was he with the way the poem had seemingly come together of its own, with very little effort on his part, and so intent was he in admiring the beauty of the tone on her uniform, that he failed to notice that she had stopped moving and as he had continued to move, he soon found himself much closer to the tempting color than he had previously allowed himself.
So, of course, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to caress the lovely color…
When next he opened his eyes it was to look up at a confused looking Inuyasha glaring down at him with an expanse of darkening sky behind him.
"What's with the bouzo?" Inuyasha inquired, oh so eloquently.
Miroku blinked a few times and realized that he was, indeed, lying on his back on the ground with Inuyasha staring down at him instead of the much more pleasant sight of Sango.
"I knew he was up to something!" Sango exclaimed to Kagome. "He had been behaving only to lure me into a false sense of security!"
"Miroku-sama!" he heard Kagome exclaim somewhere above him. He blinked up at Inuyasha who only smirked, apparently glad it hadn't been him she was using the tone with this time.
Inuyasha extended a hand to Miroku which Miroku gracefully took. 'Well,' Miroku thought as he tried to avoid the headache. At least he had finished his poem, hadn't he?
Miroku sat up only to be knocked back again by an infuriated Sango. "And stay down, you hentai!!" he heard her exclaim.
'Oh, that would hurt in the morning,' Miroku thought as he hit the ground again with a thud. One would think he was more used to being hit…shouldn't he be developing some sort of immunity to the pain?
"What's he grinning for?" he heard Kagome-sama ask somewhere above him.
'Well one thing was for sure,' Miroku thought as he closed his eyes and pretended to be unconscious. 'I think everything is going to be all right,' he repeated in his mind, starting to realize that the darkness behind his closed eyelids was swirling...pink? So maybe he wasn't pretending so much, anyway? He grinned at his old friend, unconsciousness and managed one last coherent thought: 'No matter what we do tonight…' Miroku vowed. "He mumbled something about pink?" Inuyasha's voice faded above him.
Miroku attempted not to laugh, but couldn't be sure if he had succeeded as Unconsciousness took him off to sleep. 'What a way to go,' he thought before he knew no more.
A/N 2: Remember to hit that little review button down there at the bottom, now, and lemme know what y'all think of this little attempt to go into Miroku's mind. I'm excruciatingly nervous about it, so I'd appreciate any insight. ^_~.
Okay, so I didn't really take any liberties with the song, but in case you were wondering what it looks like in its entirety without any MirokuThoughts interspersed, here ya go…
Pink it's my new obsession
Pink it's not even a question
Pink on the lips of your lover, ´cause
Pink is the love you discover
Pink as the bing on your cherry
Pink ´cause you are so very
Pink it's the color of passion
`Cause today it just goes with the fashion
Pink it was love at first sight, yea
Pink when I turn out the light, and
Pink gets me high as a kite
And I think everything is going to be all right
No matter what we do tonight
You could be my flamingo
´Coz pink is the new kinda lingo
Pink like a deco umbrella
It's kink - but you don't ever tell her
Pink it was love at first sight
Pink when I turn out the light
Pink gets me high as a kite
And I think everything is going to be all right
No matter what we do tonight
I want to be your lover
I wanna wrap you in rubber
As pink as the sheets that we lay on
Pink is my favorite crayon, yeah
Pink it was love at first sight
Pink when I turn out the light
Pink it's like red but not quite
And I think everything is going to be all right
No matter what we do tonight