Chapter Text
From the covered stairs in front of the old Buddhist temple, the old monk Mushin sat in silence with Miroku. In his hands, he held a small cup that he kept filled with sake from a pitcher by his side. Mushin liked to believe that after all these years of practice that he could hold his liquor well, but this stuff, this Mist of Sages, had hit him like a club from the very first sip. While he could tell that he was no doubt going to wake up with a raging hangover the next morning, it was going to be very worth it.
He had felt a little guilty sending Miroku and the others up the Kasumidake for it; while no one had said that anything strange had happened up there, the lack of words clearly meant that something had. But with every additional sip he took, Mushin could feel any guilt and regrets he had about sending them there,or about making them clean the entire temple and buy him an expensive meal, quickly evaporate away. Anything this good was made to be drank with no regrets.
By all accounts and purposes, some (very, very good) alcohol coupled with the clear and peaceful night air, and spending some quality with the man he had raised since childhood, should have been the perfect combination to make the best of what could very well be his last night alive. And yet, Miroku had been restless the past view minutes, darting his eyes between Mushin and the area of the temple where his friends slept, constantly opening and closing his mouth but never saying anything. Mushin would have felt insulted, but he could tell that it wasn’t that Miroku would have preferred to spend the evening with his friends than an old, drunk monk, but rather that he had something he wanted to tell him, he just wasn’t sure how.
“What’s on your mind Miroku?”
Miroku turned to face Mushin in confusion, but quickly gave a small smile and sigh. “Sorry Master, I suppose it was quite obvious wasn’t it.”
Mushin took another small sip of the sake. “I haven’t seen you this restless and unsure since that priestess came to visit the temple when you were only thirteen. So I assume that whatever you want to speak to me about involves a woman in some way.
He watched as Miroku once again looked towards the sleeping area of the temple before taking a steadying breath. “I asked Sango to marry me.”
Well, that had been unexpected. Mushin finished the remainder of the alcohol in the cup and grabbed the small pitcher to pour some more out. “So that’s what happened on the mountain I assume? And since none of you have said a word about it I suppose she shot you down?”
Miroku’s face twisted into one remembering unpleasant memories as he seemed to recall what actually took place. “No, and I would rather not speak about what took place there if it’s all the same to you.”
Mushin simply shrugged as he took another sip and sorted through his drunken stupor for who this ‘Sango’ was. Miroku had seemed to think he would know who this women was so it was clearly someone he had met and was somewhat familiar with, which narrowed it down to the two girls that travelled with Miroku. He recalled one of the women, a demon slayer if he was correct, never far from the younger monk when they were in the same room, and her barely suppressed fury at the dinner the other night. If she had been furious because of the inn girls clamoring over Miroku then her actions suddenly made that much more sense.
“The demon slayer? I’m surprised that you managed to get her to agree to have your child Miroku. Though I suppose it does makes sense. A child with your spiritual powers and her demon slaying training would certainly be up to the task of killing Naraku.”
“No, you misunderstand Master Mushin. I asked her come live with me after we kill Naraku and to bear any children then. I couldn’t bear the idea of her watching me getting sucked up into my own Wind Tunnel and then watching our child get sucked up as well years later. No parent should have to watch their child die before them, especially in a way as horrible as this.”
Mushin looked up at the large, round fissure in the ground that served not only as the grave of Miroku’s father, but Mushin’s best friend. He could understand the sentiment clearly. It was a horrid way to die, leaving no closure for their loved ones, and nightmares for those who witnessed it as well. Not a single trace of the person was left behind, it left no body to bury or any items to make a shrine to honor them in death. It was an indiscriminate death as well, sucking up anyone and anything in the vicinity before finally leaving it’s curse on the next in line and starting the vicious cycle all over again.
“Besides, I refuse to do what Father did and simply have a child with Sango just because they would have a better chance of defeating Naraku if I fail.”
Mushin sighed at this and took another sip of the Mist of Sages. It seemed that for all Miroku loved and respected his father, he still hadn’t forgiven him for that.
“I must say, I am surprised. You seemed to have no qualms about asking every girl out there to bear you a child until now. What changed?”
Miroku’s gaze was hard. “You know I had been searching for any hint or trace of Naraku ever since Father died, but it seemed I was no closer to finding him then Father had been. I had started to think that the only way to remove the curse was to follow in his footsteps and make an heir. And then, with no warning, the Jewel of Four Souls had not only returned, but been shattered, and shards of them were turning up all over the area. I had intended to collect as many pieces as possible and use them to heighten my own power and draw Naraku out, but I met Kagome, Inuyasha, and Shippo instead.
“It was only supposed to be a temporary partnership, but then Naraku started to appear everywhere. It was like he was following them and I realized that if I stayed then I would finally get a chance to defeat Naraku and the curse would be broken and end with me. I couldn’t afford to pass an opportunity like this up.”
Mushin nodded along, but wasn’t sure if it was because the sake had started to make him dizzy and tired, or if it was what seemed like the right thing to do. He deemed it was probably some combination of the two.
“And where does the demon slayer come into this?”
Mushin didn’t think it was possible, but Miroku’s eyes hardened even further and he clenched his right hand into a fist. “Sango joined us not long before I asked you to repair my Wind Tunnel. Naraku had killed everyone from her village just because she had found a shard of the Shikon Jewel and they were keeping it safe. Not only that, but he had left the village defenseless by taking away their most powerful slayers on a mission to his castle, and used that opportunity to take control of her younger brothers body and kill everyone with them, including her. She told us that she had actually clawed her way out of her own grave and Naraku took that chance to tell her that not only had her entire village been slaughtered but that we had done it. When we finally met her she had come to kill us and was covered in her own blood and barely standing, even under the power of a jewel shard in her back. By the time we had managed to convince her that Naraku was lying, she was so close to death it was a miracle she was able to speak, muchless move. Naraku had taken everything away from her Master. Her home, her family, her friends, her community, everything.”
Miroku smiled softly and Mushin was surprised at the amount of fondness and love in it. “You should see her fight though Master Mushin. When Inuyasha wields the Testusaiga he’s the strongest fighter of any of us, but Sango is far and away the most skilled. She doesn’t even have any spiritual or demonic powers like the rest of us but can fight leagues better than anyone else I’ve ever met. She spent years training and perfecting her fighting style and it shows. She has back-up weapons for her back-up weapons! Even when injured and on death’s door, she was able to go toe to toe with Inuyasha. I truly, honestly believe that if Sango and Inuyasha ever had to fight each other seriously, she would win. She knows so many tips and tricks for overcoming his attacks and weakening his demonic senses that there would be nothing he could do. She is truly a sight to behold.
“And she loves so much it’s unbelievable. When she learned that Naraku had brought her younger brother back to life to use against her, all she could think of was freeing Kohaku and getting him back to her. She wears her heart on her sleeve and can become angry at the drop of a hat but it’s just proof of how passionate she is at what she does and knows what she wants in life, and she’s not afraid to take on anything or anyone in her way to get it. She acts so quiet an unassuming when not fighting, but in battle I can’t think of anyone I trust more to have my back.
“I’ve never met such a strong women in my life, and I want her in it for as long as I’m still alive.”
Mushin just listened to all of this, slowly sipping the sake as he realized for the first time just how far Miroku had fallen for this demon slayer, how much he loved her. That his proposal hadn’t just been the words of a man who didn’t have long to live, but the words of one who intended to live, and spend the rest of it with her. It shocked him, that Miroku had finally found and been able to grasp what his father had wanted but had never been able to have.
With this thought in mind, he finished off what little alcohol was remaining in the cup, and watched Miroku grab the pitcher and poured some more into Mushin’s cup himself.
“There you go. So tell me, how does it taste?”
Mushin smiled. “Superb.”