Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this long-awaited update... especially for the one who is displeased. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

He Objects

A few more hours later...

Miroku was washing his hands in the boys' lavatory when there was a sudden rush and rumble that lifted him off his feet and cracked his head against the tile wall.

Power was rising in retaliation before his vision cleared.

Sesshoumaru's grip on his arms tightened, and red flickered across his eyes. "Do not test me further."

Quickly quelling his reaction, Miroku contented himself with admiring Sesshoumaru's youkai markings. "I may never stop being amazed by youkai strength."

"Fear it."

He shook his head. "I find it reassuring, really."

"This reassures you?" Sesshoumaru challenged. Then his nose twitched, and his eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"I am not entirely sober." Miroku warmly accused, "You were worried."

"I was not," Sesshoumaru growled. But then he grumbled, "That fox dragged you out a window."

"He invited me out a window."

"Must you contradict everything I say?"

"Only when you are … ah. When a point needs clarification."

Sesshoumaru slowly lowered him to the floor, but he didn't step back. Miroku was getting used to the posturing.

"Why did you leave?"

"Scrabble Night at the Higurashis' is a Friday tradition. My presence was required."

"This is a long way from that farm."

"Did you follow me?" Miroku's mind raced. "How did you track me down? Scent? Emanations? Instinct? You know, some of the scrolls wax eloquent about soul bonds! Is that something a lord shares with his retainers?"

"You are being ridiculous."

"I am being … not entirely sober. But it was good of you to come for me. Can we fly home? It is entirely wonderful whenever literary hyperbole proves to be literal." He lowered his voice to confess, "Flight is exhilarating.

Sesshoumaru blinked.

"It is also cold." With a dramatic shiver, he mumbled, "Necessary evil, given the season."

"That fox," Sesshoumaru growled. "He endangered the health of my retainer."

Miroku would have defended his friend, but he was suddenly tangled in fur. "What? What is this?"

Effortlessly lifting him, Sesshoumaru stalked along the hall.

"I should probably let Shipp know …."

"You would grant him courtesies you denied me?"

Miroku gave the silken mass of silver fur a soothing pat. "I would rather out-courtesy someone than out-slight them."

"This I can do." And with a haughty tilt to his chin, he barged through an exterior door.

Youki flared, and Miroku gaped in utter disbelief. Raw power crackled around them in a perfect sphere.

"I am superior to that fox," Sesshoumaru insisted.

"I am impressed," Miroku conceded, meaning it.

"Are you cold?"

"Not in the least."

"Hnn." Sesshoumaru looked entirely smug. "We are going home."

What else could Miroku say? "Yes, sir."

But he hesitated, then asked, "What do you find exhilarating?"

Miroku wasn't so drunk that he didn't recognize a pissing contest. How to answer …? He settled on something that was both true and open-ended enough to give his boss room to show off. "Surprises never fail to stir me up."

A long, slow blink. The lift of a brow. And Sesshoumaru accepted this new challenge with a pleased little, "Hnn."

End Note: Posted on May 28, 2022. 511 words. Thanks so much! I'll see you in June. And as always, if you're curious about what else I write, follow your curiosity to ForthWrites dot com. ::twinkle::