"... Hey, Miroku. Do you know any, good prayers? I mean, for the departed, I--" he trails off, seeming to hesitate. Inuyasha rubs along the side of his own neck, gaze narrowed a bit. He smiled, some, "I wanted to, say a prayer. For your dad."
the question.. shocks him. so much so, he’s taking a step back. then two as he looks at the ground. master mushin, hachi, and himself-- those were the only people who had mourned his late father. someone, even now, that miroku lost so young that he could scarcely remember him. and the memories he did have, he cherished and held dear.
they were sacred to him. things that are sacred are not to be trifled with.
for a moment, midnight eyes lift to inuyasha. miroku hesitates. he tries to think of a prayer. yet-- his mind’s.. blank. unsure of even what to say, he looks away again and his fist tightens on his staff.
“it does not benefit anyone to speak on the dead.” his words are shorter than he’d like them to be, and he cannot lift his gaze to inuyasha no matter how much he wants to. “your well wishes will do fine enough inuyasha, there is no need for anything further,” he’s even more short as he turns and starts making his way back to camp, avoiding the subject all together, “--i must begin to prepare for this evening’s meal. there’s no time for such trivial matters. what’s past is past, and to move forward in our own lives, we have to overcome the obstacles of our past.”
he gives a sharp narrowed look over his shoulder. “my father, is not one i’d like to revisit.” with that being said, he continues walking back to camp, with his back to the hanyou. he was done with this conversation.