The Beads

Far too late, the scent of fear and violation reached Inuyasha’s nose and he awoke with a jolt. All at once the smell portrayed what he had failed to catch before—each of Sesshoumaru’s undesired touches and each tremor of Miroku’s body as he was penetrated against his wishes.



The scent had been delayed.



Eyes wider than normal, the gold standing out in the darkness, Inuyasha searched the group. The girls and Shippo were sleeping peacefully, none the wiser. Miroku—where was Miroku? Inuyasha got to his feet quickly and followed the trail of pungent fear that lingered in the monk’s wake. He found Miroku just a short walk away from the group, kneeling on the ground with nothing covering his body.



He was trying to remove the beads from his neck, but his hands were shaking too badly. All around him danced the mocking stench of Lord Sesshoumaru.



Inuyasha tried to approach him carefully. If what he smelled and what he sensed right now were on the mark, then each movement would have to be delicate. When he spoke, he would have to sound assuring and calm.



Struggling with his scattered feelings of anger, and immense sorrow, and terrible uncertainty, the half demon forgot his physical surroundings. He froze completely when an echoing snap spread around the two in the clearing. The sound ran through him in a shiver. He had stepped on a twig.



Miroku jumped immediately at the sound. His head whipped around to stare at the frozen Inuyasha. At that moment, the half-demon could see every shade in Miroku’s wide eyes; from deep chocolate brown to milky amber around the edges. The colors shone fearfully for a split second, then filled with agonizing shame.



He was as skittish as a rabbit. He trembled like one.



“Miroku…”



“I can’t get it off,” Miroku whispered. Inuyasha was puzzled. But his eyes shifted to the red marks around Miroku’s collarbone, and he understood. He’d been trying to remove the beads. The half-demon knelt beside his frightened companion and looked with heightened suspicion at the necklace.



“You think…that they…?”



“I know it. The beads…somehow called him…I know they did…and I…” Miroku shuddered even more violently than before. He swallowed thickly. “…I couldn’t move. He never gave me…never gave me a chance…”



Inuyasha almost growled, but managed to refrain so as not to startle Miroku. He was terrified enough as it was.



So the hanyou took a moment to gather his thoughts on the ordeal. He knew one thing for certain: without some kind of powerful influence, there was no way Sesshoumaru would ever go near a human, much less force mating upon one. His brother’s sexual restraint was no doubt held sternly in place by his pride most of the time. He’d sensed there was something wrong about those beads the minute he’d seen them…but this went beyond any of his reservations.



What, exactly, was the true effect of the beads? Why did it only draw Sesshoumaru to the monk? If that accursed piece of jewelry around Miroku’s neck was releasing some kind of pheromone, then it should not have just been Sesshoumaru to attack Miroku. Even Inuyasha himself should have been affected.



Why Sesshoumaru?



In the middle of his inner musings, Inuyasha draped his fire rat cloak around his friend’s quivering shoulders. He absently scanned the ground and found the shredded fibers of the monk’s robes.



“Please, don’t tell Sango,” Miroku pleaded suddenly, his wide eyes still filled with the same painful humiliation. Inuyasha sighed and did his best to keep the pity out of his eyes.



“I don’t know that I have a choice, Miroku. Shippo will be able to smell…and your clothes…”



“Please, just do something,” Miroku begged. “She can’t know. I can’t imagine how she’d…look at me if she knew.”



A dreadful, desperate silence took place then. Inuyasha did not know how to say no to such a plea; a plea from his friend. He looked up the sky. It was still quite dark. It would be some time yet before anyone else woke up.



Ignoring the thick and invading scent of his brother, Inuyasha smelled the air for water. He picked up the cool scent of a spring a few miles west. It wouldn’t take him long to get there…



He nodded to Miroku. His face was gentle.



“All right,” he said. He gathered up the monk and the torn clothing into his arms. “We’ll take care of that scent first. I’ll think of what to do from there.”



Miroku let out a great sigh and slumped, energy fully spent, against Inuyasha’s chest. “Thank you.”



The half-breed’s lips set into a thin and tense line. He didn’t respond, and took off in the direction of the spring without another word.



((Yay, this chapter was crap. I can totally do better...but I'm being lazy with this story for once, and it kinda feels good.))