My Precious

Title: Truth
Author: Saraste
Series: My Precious, part 4
Pairing: Kouga/Miroku, past Inuyasha/Miroku
Rating: series overall PG-13 fluff with some NC-17 naughty.
Genre: romance, post-mpreg, fluff, angst
Warnings: slash, post-mpreg
Wordcount: 1612
A/N: Written originally in January 2009. Not tagged here under Kouga/Miroku as there is no such category. After this there are two chapters left before I run out of already published material. I'm hoping December will bring much needed writing time as I'm far too busy this month to write/be inspired for new stuff for this. And I must stress again that the way I portray Inuaysha in this is for plot purposes only, it's not my general view on his character. Also, my 'Inuyasha experience' is largely based on reading the manga as I'm still looking through the original anime and avoiding the new.


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Miroku eyed his surroundings wearily. He'd been out of the world for so long he didn't knew how to interact. Kouga walked behind him and the monk took comfort in that. He began to feel more at ease again.

Not so afraid and shaken anymore.

Eager footsteps ran to greet them and Miroku was met by the sight of Sango rushing at them. She hadn't changed much from when he remembered her. They'd last seen almost over a year ago. It had been sudden and without good-byes.

“Miroku!” Sango cried out at him happily, a happy smile grazing her face.

Then she finally saw him properly and stopped on her tracks. Miroku drew in a deep breath. Now it would happen again. There was the surprise and shock, next would be anger, disdain and then loathing.

Unable to bear it, Miroku turned his head and closed his eyes. Shin's weight against his body his only and last comfort in the world.

Kouga scented his anguish. He lay a hand on the monk's shoulder and squeezed it again. The man shook under his touch. Afraid. Broken. Apart.

“Miroku?”

The monk looked up. Sango didn't sound anything but genuinely concerned. Worried about him. Her warm friendly voice the soothing influence he now graved for with every inch of his being.

And he saw.

To Sango he wasn't an abomination. Some one she'd judge. He was simply a man, a friend, whom she'd known for years. His sister in naught but blood.

And the harsh reality of it was...

... she didn't know yet.

Then he felt ashamed. Ashamed to doubt Sango. To think she'd judge him for his family. For his Shin. And the affection there had been between him and Shin's father in the past.

Time shifted back into focus again after the silence had stretched on. Miroku looked at Sango as she smiled.

“Hello Miroku, long time no see”.

A warm hand on his shoulder, scorching but soothing all the same. Miroku knew he should shake the hand off. Should shake it off and not let comfort seep into his heart. He shouldn't and yet he did.

“Sango!” He said. It was good to see her, in the end. “Hope you are well?”

“I am, thank you”, she nodded. Her eyes rested on Shin and her smile widened. “How about you?”

A shadow passed over Miroku's face. Barely there but enough to see. And scent. A bitter tang of sorrow permeating the monk's scent.

“Oh, I'm sorry Miroku...” she lay her hand on his arm. “I'm sorry..”

“I'm too...” Miroku said quietly. His face was withdrawn. He was feeling the pang of sorrow yet again. Memories of his time with the man he'd thought he'd share his life with flashing through his mind at the inadvertent reminder.

All of it was straining to get back to the surface again. The hurt. Blame. Pain.

But he still forced a strained smile on his face. For her sake. Didn't want her to feel bad on his account. He'd gotten what he'd ordered.

“Let's go for some grub, eh? Ye must be starvin'!” Kouga cut in, the silent suffering exuding from the monk too much for him. And he needed to get some meat on those bones. The monk had clearly been more concerned about his son than himself for quite some time now.

Not quite skin and bones yet but on his gloomy way to getting there. His face sunken and the long fingers gripping the staff almost thin as twigs. Robes hanging loose over a previously lithe frame.

Emaciated. Malnourished. Eaten by his suffering.

Miroku and Sango nodded. Sango didn't like Miroku's behaviour. He was holding back. It was so unlike him to do so. It made the taijiya edgy. Twitchy.

They followed Kouga to the grassy field surrounding the wolves caves. Almost immediately, they were surrounded by members of his clan. Both youkai and wolf. And they all looked at Miroku. His uncomfortableness sky-rocketed, the fear in him rising it's head again. Kouga could feel him. Trying so hard not to loose it and run. Escape again. Let the void of human contact be his world again. Safe without having to deal with anything.

Safe in his own private cocoon where there were no-one else but him and his child.

“Kouga?!”

They were barraged with questions. Miroku shied away behind Kouga, his heart racing.

Mistake. It had all been one big mistake. He never should have come here. Never. No matter how much Kouga had tried to convince him otherwise.

“Shut up!” Kouga bellowed for his clan members to be quiet.

He was livid. Miroku was so panicked, heart racing, fear enveloping his whole being. All of him drowning in that dank abyss. Slipping away.

“He isn't a threat! He'll not be treated as such. Miroku is a friend!” Kouga declared. There was still some murmurs and glances thrown at the monk and his son. But none of them were outwardly hostile. Simply curious. Most of the females present teemed with questions. As did some of the males, too. Especially those with mates of their own.

Kouga eyed them one final time. Then he nodded in approval as the crowd dispersed.

“Good. Follow me!” He then added to Miroku and Sango, beckoning them to follow. “We'll go and talk at my cave”.

He led them up the rock face to what was a wide rip on the surface which opened to a cave with some pellets in one corner as a make shift bed. They sat around on bits of fur Kouga flung at them. They all took seats near the open entry way.

Miroku took Shin off of the sling to cradle him in his arms. “Thank you”, he said to Kouga with an emotion laden voice.

“Miroku, what's wrong?”Sango cut in. “Tell me, please?”, she pleaded with her old friend. Her dear friends torment was too much for her to bear.

Miroku looked up at her with haunted eyes.

She only now got a proper look at his child and understood. “It's all about your child, isn't it?”, Sango asked softly.

Miroku nodded.

“But I thought”, she glanced at Kouga, “I thought you were with him?”

And as she spoke, it seemed like she'd hit the mark with her words. A tear escaped Miroku's eye. He nodded towards Kouga and spoke: “He knows, Sango”, he said quietly. “He knows I was with Inuyasha...” He averted her eyes.

The monk swallowed. His heart steeled for the blow he still feared would come from her. He'd been hurt so much to trust easily again, even a friend. He finally raised his head again and looked at Sango with his tormented eyes.

“He knows who the father is...”

Sango could do nothing but gasp so the monk ploughed on.

“I gave birth to him. He's Inuyasha's...”

“Miroku...”

“He left us”, Miroku said, his voice quivering. He tried to fight it. He really tried. But it was to no avail. “He left us...”, he sobbed brokenly again and burst to tears.

The wound was still all too fresh.

Sango watched him fall apart, sobbing with his head bowed, tears falling on his son's face. Crying desolately as obviously painful memories filled his heart with despair.

“Oh, Miroku!” she cried out and hugged him.

Kouga watched the exchange with envy in his heart. He didn't yet have such an easy intimacy with the monk. Whatever his personal feelings, he knew that the comfort the taijiya so readily provided was something the monk needed right now.

But it still made his hackles rise.

He wanted to be the one to soothe Miroku's aching heart. Gather him in his arms and hold him close as he cried. Try and soothe the pain away. The feel of the monk's sorrow hit him hard. It was deep and raw. The surprised panic brought forth by the hug ebbing to the dull throb of the sadness as the monk finally truly relaxed into the warm embrace.

After some moments Miroku gathered himself and gently shook Sango off.

“Never think I'd judge you for this!” Sango said vehemently. “Never!”

“Thank you, Sango...”, Miroku sniffed, wiping his tears away. He sat up a little more straight, settling his son more comfortably in his arms. He unfolded the blanket to let Sango see more easily. He'd been keeping his son close and hidden to protect him.

“Sango, this is Shin”.

Sango looked at him, taking stock of his mixed raven-snowy hair, elven ears and now curiously open violet eyes. She squealed happily. “He's simply adorable!”, she cooed. “Such a precious little son you have...” she hushed. Her face was lit by a wide delighted smile.

Miroku let out the breath he'd been holding and smiled. As he did he noticed how Kouga's hand had sneaked back on his shoulder again. A comforting gesture he'd not even realized had been there until now.

He let it slide, He understood it was for comfort. He must have looked so utterly dejected. And even if he and Kouga hadn't really known each other before there was a definite friendship forming between them now.

It was new and frightening. For there was something, a feeling inside of him he'd thought had been buried and done with which was trying to break out. He shook that ludicrous idea out off his head.

He looked at both the youkai and taijiya. Both smiling at him. Smiling at him and Shin.

Smiling.

It seemed he could do it. Be happy again and trust. Have friends in his life again. People he could rely on.

People he could trust.