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Mistaken Identity	By : TheKaytla Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > Sessh?maru/Miroku > Sessh?maru/Miroku Views: 3728 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the series Inuyasha, nor its characters. They are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 3
- 4
Chapter Four

Backstage, the atmosphere was much different. The space he walked through was dark and crampt, with a single light every few feet or so, and cables hung from the ceilings and crawled along the floors. Despite the dim light, however, it was more obvious away from the patron areas that this building had once been a house, remodelled to suit the owner's purposes. Again, he wondered why such a high class act like Se was working here.

Still, it was only a dim thought. Running paramount through his mind at the moment was the concern that this club, however low key, was clearly run by youkai. Though he had met plenty over the years who were perfectly friendly, he had to admit the majority of them had been, at the very least, disdainful toward humans. Sometimes much worse. And a lot of them weren't afraid to show it.

Miroku's concern grew as he was led up a flight of stairs, away from the noise, what he'd clearly noted were the dressing rooms at the other end of the hall, and from... witnesses. With tension starting to knot between his shoulder blades, he began to seriously wonder if he should just turn around and walk - hell, run - in the opposite direction. Had he upset the pretty singer with his advances somehow? No, no, it had just been flowers. How could that offend a lady? Or maybe... it was her boyfriend who was offended. Likely a youkai boyfriend.

The thought had him gripping his phone tightly in his pocket, thumb grazing over where he best guessed the 9 was. He wouldn't be caught off-guard. Face grim, he opened his mouth to speak to his escort, to start spinning some excuse as to why he had to get the hell out of there right now, but before he could get a word out, they reached the top of the stairs and a door opposite was knocked on, then, at a sign too quiet for him to hear, opened for him. The stage hand gestured for him to enter.

Trepidation had him hesitating a moment. He got the feeling that if he entered that room, he wouldn't be leaving again until the occupant was ready to let him go. But as he could see that the only person in the room was Se... maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. With desire overriding common sense, as was often the case with Miroku, he stepped in. The door was closed quietly behind him as he moved slowly toward the middle of the room.

He looked around him. It was dark, but he could see that it was a fair-sized room that had been converted into office space. From what he could see out the window and past the glorious fall of silver that was Se's hair, the view looked out onto the street where he'd entered the club. There was also some measure of soundproofing, because Miroku's human ears could no longer hear anything from outside the room. Apparently the youkai who'd shown him the way had been able to hear noises from within, though.

All these thoughts and observations took a few moments, but Se still hadn't moved or said a word. Miroku shifted slightly from one foot to the other, wondering what was expected of him.

"Take a seat," she finally said, in a voice even deeper than he'd expected. It was smooth, soft and low, and (he wasn't sure if this was because of his infatuation with the woman) somehow erotic. It took her turning slightly and gesturing to the chair opposite the mahogany desk on one side of the room to snap him out of it and seat himself.

With long, elegant strides, she crossed over to sit behind the desk, an unmistakable sign of authority. She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair, watching Miroku silently with those bewitching, intense amber eyes. Suddenly, Miroku found himself wondering if she owned the entire venue. It would make perfect sense; the reason she occupied this room instead of one of the changing rooms, the way she picked and chose when she cared to sing, keeping no schedule but her own. It made him relax a little. A small fear had crept in that perhaps she sung here because her lover owned it and wanted her to, or perhaps she simply did it on a whim.

But the silence and the staring carried on until Miroku was almost squirming in his chair like a naughty schoolboy. This wasn't how it should be going. They should be talking in a brightly lit room over the flowers he'd sent, so he could use his charm to its full advantage. This was... he didn't know what this was, but it wasn't pleasant. He almost felt like he was on trial. He was desperate to break the silence.

"It's, uh... a little dark in here," he finally said, lamely. But he didn't feel like he could start off with flirting, as he usually did. Not with this one. Despite her earlier sensuality, there was something dangerous about her now. Like if he reached out carelessly, he'd find himself cut. It wasn't just because she was youkai, either. He'd hit on youkai women before, with both negative and positive results. She was just... different.

"I can see perfectly fine," she countered, still in that low voice, and made no move to reach for the lamp on the desk. Clearly, she wanted him off-balance, Miroku thought with chagrin and some annoyance. She was getting exactly what she wanted, once again forcing him to resist squirming.

"Yes, well, I'm not a youkai, so..." He trailed off, trying to smile charmingly, yet aware by how it felt that he'd failed miserably.

"No... you are not. And yet you attempt to woo me with... flowers."

Miroku fought against his weak smile turning into a frown. Try to keep the tone upbeat, he thought. She obviously wasn't going to put any effort into that area herself. He couldn't even tell if she was amused or... contemptible. She'd seemed so expressive earlier, but now he realised that was all the song. Her true face was controlled and impassive, revealing nothing. Not even a hint.

He took a small breath. "Do you... dislike flowers?"

"I neither like nor dislike them. They simply are."

Miroku had no idea what to say to that. He'd never met anyone who so firmly and unequivocally claimed neutrality over flowers. He'd thought everyone had at least one flower that they liked the look of, the smell of. Maybe even just for sentimental reasons. Even if they disliked flowers in general, there was always one that was saved from the list. And who could really claim to not enjoy seeing the colours that popped up every spring? This woman was strange, no doubt. She would be difficult.

But he had to say something, even if he had no idea where to go from here. He had to say something. He couldn't stand the silence. It was so uncomfortable, and left him no defence against the fact that he was clearly being scrutinised, weighed and measured against whatever standards she had. He might have felt steadier if he had some hint he was measuring up favourably.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something - anything - but she cut him off with a wave of her slender hand before he managed even a syllable. Her eyes narrowed and she fired a single question at him: "Did Inuyasha send you?"

Pure shock rippled through Miroku. Inuyasha? She knew Inuyasha? How? Inuyasha had claimed to only know his father and older brother, and with the latter, the knowing was limited as much as both of them could manage. Of course, that didn't mean his other relatives wouldn't know of him, and likely did, if they kept their distance from the hanyou.

But that still didn't explain why Se connected the two of them.

"Why would you ask that?" His confusion was clear, and one of her eyebrows lifted slightly.

"His scent clings to you. Faint, but present to one able to discern such things. It suggests frequent interaction if it does not fade with regular cleansing of the skin."

Of course, that made sense. And it showed how much he was off-balance that he didn't think of it himself. After all, Inuyasha had always been able to tell when he got lucky - and when he didn't - even after a thorough showering. It had been somewhat frustrating at first to not be able to brag to Inuyasha as he could his human friends, but he'd gotten used to it.

But the question still had to be asked. He'd been wondering about any familial ties between the two of them ever since he laid eyes on Se, and now he'd get to confirm one way or another. And perhaps he'd get to brag.

"Do you know Inuyasha, then?" He asked it lightly, trying not to let it show how curious he was about the answer. He had a vague feeling maybe she'd withhold just because if he did.

Se waved a hand almost dismissively. "Of course, more's the pity; the half-breed is my younger brother."

For a moment, Miroku's confusion layered thick over anything else that struck him. Younger brother? Inuyasha had a sister? Inuyasha had never mentioned it and he would have. He took great relish in complaining about what an utter bastard his brother was, so if a sister had treated him even worse, she wouldn't have been spared. So that meant... Inuyasha didn't know? His father had kept it a secret? But, no, that made no sense, either. Touga adored his son and wouldn't have hidden one more unfriendly sibling from him. Inuyasha could more than handle it.

So that meant... there was no sister. And with that one, single thought, the shock and horror crashed down on him, and he found himself plastering against the back of his chair, staring at Se and gaping open mouthed.

Se... short for Sesshomaru.

Inuyasha's older brother.

A man.

He'd been infatuated... with a man. He'd openly pursued a man. For God's sake, he'd jerked off to a man! No amount of androgyny on that man's part could erase the fact that he was male. Especially when the attraction lingered and he still found that lecherous part of his brain looking at Sesshomaru with the glad eye.

He had to get out of here. Out into the fresh air, to clear his head. He'd walk home, have a shower, scrape this nonsense away. Then he'd go to bed, sleep for the next few days - screw work - and that would be it. He'd put it all out of his mind. And no one would ever need to know the truth he'd uncovered.

He started to stand, mumbling some excuse he wasn't even certain made sense, but Sesshomaru stopped him with a single, no-nonsense command to stay seated. Miroku paused in spite of himself, his gaze dragging back to the youkai opposite him. The way the golden eyes flashed despite the lack of light made him swallow and lower slowly back into his chair, still freaking out and now wondering what the hell was going to happen to him.

Would he make it out of this room in one piece?

---

I'm alive! Though if Miroku continues on as he is currently, he might not be. XD

The cat is well and truly out of the bag now. He knows exactly who he's talking to and things will only get more stressful for him from here on out. Yay? XD

Enjoy! <3
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Mistaken Identity