#mirokuanswerstagtobeadded.

[cursedmcnk]

“i ain’t doin’ it.” stubborn & bull headed, he was. “i don’ get why we gotta help every little person with every little cry fer help. ain’t we fuckin’ busy doing — something else??”

miroku wanted to laugh. because he agreed: it was a waste of his time and energy to constantly be stopping to ‘assist’ people. but such was the life of a ‘monk’. but lady kagome insisted, as well as sango; such were the hearts of women. fickle, fragile things.

but neither of those women were around. which meant miroku could let his walls ‘down’ a tad. besides. he had been curious to see how inuyasha would react.

he smiled, but it was different from miroku’s usual smiles: it was thinner, smaller, briefer. and that ‘warmth’ didn’t at all reach his eyes.

“....i agree, inuyasha. i would rather be doing anything else. why, you certainly are wise.”

[cursedmcnk]

“Help isn’t coming.”

"is that so...? and you're saying this becaaause...?" he smiled across at her, then blinked, and let out a low hum. "oh! you think you're threatening me! i see. how cute. just one second."

miroku cleared his throat, and finished off his cup of sake before setting it down and standing up, brushing off the back of his robes.

“now now. did you think that i came here unaware you were nearby? i was waiting for you.”

[cursedmcnk]

“Not everyone in this world plays nice, don’t bother trying.”

"my, my. what a bold thing to say!" how stupid did she think he was. of course he knew that: had learned it over and over and over through the years. had it drilled into his head, seared into his heart, more than once.

don’t bother trying.

a little chuckle left miroku, and he smiled, “you know what they say.” and he didn’t finish the sentence. deliberately. let her get irritated. he could care less.

[cursedmcnk]

“You’re not doing so good, you should relax a little.”

miroku had to bite back a scoff; kept a rather lax posture, even with that pain. human bandits were nasty fucking foes to battle. especially with inuyasha preoccupied with that clay-doll of a ‘priestess’. stupid half-demon.

still, bandits died the same way as everything else did when faced with miroku’s wind tunnel. it had been quick. not easy, certainly not ideal. but miroku had gotten the job done well enough.

or so he had thought. until kururugi michiru decided to open his fucking mouth and chastise miroku. after such a job well done? what absolute idiocy--

"sire michiru! have faith. tis but a flesh wound. it will heal with some salve. incidentally, i should go and gather up some plants. no doubt we’ll need it." his eyes surveyed the damage done, those who hadn’t died but were clearly injured. grand. more work.

[cursedmcnk]

“A flower, for you.” (from @kitsxnebi lil shippou)

what kind of monk preferred the company of demons? well. miroku did. to a degree, at least. demons had a nature about them, mostly predictable. they were vast like humans, yes, but to another extent. perhaps it was just how often he had to be attuned to their energies, along with that ‘light’ of his own abilities.

more than likely, miroku was just tired of having expectations pushed into his shoulders. ones he could never meet, for all his struggles. all his hard work.

demons never expected much of humans, aside from looking at humanity as things to eat, things to fuck, things to kill. demons never expected miroku to save them or offer sage wisdom.

in turn, miroku never expected anything, of anybody. each time he had, he’d been let down, or not at all surprised.

but this.

being given a flower, it surprised him. genuinely.

....

well then.

“where on earth did you come across this,” he reached out, fingers laid against the edges of the flower petals. miroku didn’t move to take it from shippou at first. he’d never bothered with picking plants aside from making salves or studying under his father’s tutelage all those years ago. 

maybe miroku thought he may crush the flower if he took hold of it.

“...thank you,” it’s murmured some, and miroku lays a palm out, towards, for shippou to place the flower down onto.

[cursedmcnk]

“What do you think of people?”

he couldn’t stand a good majority. with his ‘job’ as a monk, miroku had travelled far and wide across the vast land of japan. he had seen the filthiest of people: men, women and yes, at times, even children alike. no one was exempt of foulness. least of all himself.

if he had to rank it, why, he would put himself at the very top. the vilest of them all.

what a fitting crown for him to wear.

he mulled over her question, feeling her stupid doey eyes on him. he hadn’t been able to get rid of her, for all his trying. she was persistent. bubbly. shining. that light she projected burned his eyes and gave him a migraine.

“that sure is a question, haha,” he trailed, humming gently to himself. some nearby kids, no doubt exuberant about summer break even with all this rain, laughed as they ran about. miroku eyed them. noisy brats.

“i think we all do what we can, with what we’re given.” there. safe enough. he looked towards her and smiled, “why do you ask?”

[cursedmcnk]

“You have your friends. They care about you.”

‘friends’? did she mean the people who abandoned him without a word for literal months on end? and where exactly was this coming from? miroku had given no indication to his inner thoughts, nor to anything. yes, he had made a light joke, but that had been all--

...oh. she was simply stupid then.

“why. yes, of course i do!” he smiles at her, giving a little shrug, along with a brief wave of his hand, “and i wouldn’t think otherwise of them. they care in their own ways, as we all do. i’ve just grown so accustom to being alone that, care from people can be, surprising still.”