Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha or Moulin Rouge . . . even though I have
been to Paris and saw Mont Martre where the Moulin Rouge resides . . . but
I only saw it. Which sucks. And I also refuse to say anything on behalf of
my friend, Caroline who may have Miroku shoved under her bed for
experimental purposes . . .
AN: Well, the above pretty much covered it. Sorry to all you Camp Shikon fans out there, but I'm discontinuing it for a little while . . . *dodges rocks* Hey! *arrows* I said I was sorry! *bricks* Forgive me! *catapults* . . . etc. . . . Anyway, I'm not sure if this story has already been done before, so I'm sorry to whoever that is. It just popped in my head. ^_^ And yes, this is Mir/San. After reading and seeing the book and movie, Moulin Rouge, I realized the main character, Christian, is nothing like InuYasha. True, Miroku's not too much different, but I decided it would be easier to work with. There will be Inu/Kag though, not a lot, but some.
Enjoy!
Prologue
~*~
~There was a boy . . .~
The sky was coated with grayish mud clouds.
~A very strange,~
The small and no longer corrupt village of Mont Martre, lay hidden a top a hill of Paris. No longer corrupt, as it seemed, could not be taken so lightly. For the now drained, life-less, and some what hope-less people would have given anything to go back to the corrupt life they had had before.
~Enchanted boy.~
The streets, dark and gray as they were, could only be found empty. For all the real people of the village lay in the ally ways, slowly picking through garbage and waste, smoking until their last breaths took them to hell. Tired, they all were, for no light had ever seeped into the darkness of there village since that day.
That day.
~They say he wandered very far~
A boy, five years old it would seem, though actually closer to ten, ran through the streets of the small town. Few marveled from their little positions next to dumpsters or cobblestones. Others just merely went back to their intoxicated states. The boy was slightly crying, but not intentionally. One woman glanced out from her ally ever so slowly, while her only 'ally-mate' shook her head furiously from behind. Her midnight black hair tumbling over her truly not-so-concerned gaze. She examined the boy as he tried to re-enter himself into any given darkness. But was soon blocked out by the village folk in each one he went to. His callus covered hands clutching his eyes as if they were searing with pain.
The girl watched.
~Very far~
The boy came closer and closer to her ally.
Still, her eyes never averted. She heard a faint plea from behind her, "Don't . . . sister . . . please . . ."
The older sister paid no attention to her. The boy finally reached their ally, now tired and steaming with sweat, not having the words to ask politely to enter, but tried his way in anyway.
The girl let him. She stood back and allowed his frail and soon to be sickly body enter their own little patch of hell.
She faintly whispered to the boy. "What is it you want?"
The boy continued to pant rapidly.
~Over land and sea~
The older sister sighed impatiently. "Tell me, boy, tell me now."
The younger child in the back faintly whispered again. "Why . . . did you let . . . him in? Why . . . didn't you let . . . master take . . . care of it? Why, Kagura?"
Kagura shut her eyes almost instantly at the sound of her name. She stood up fast, loosing her balance in a way, for everything she was used to, moved slowly.
The boy just watched.
"Our master is dead you little shit. Don't you ever get it? He hung himself. Understand? Huh? Do you, Kanna?"
The little girl with the long white hair and pale skin winced slightly. Kagura scoffed. "See? You don't like being called your name. Neither do I. Here, it's a stigma for someone to call you your name. Especially us. Us who defended a man that eventually destroyed all these peoples' lives. Understand, little sister?"
She stayed silent and focused on the ground. "But . . . but when . . . will . . . master come back . . . for us? He . . . said he . . . would."
Kagura grunted. "You really are as thick headed as you look, you know that right?" She turned her gaze to the boy who was no longer panting. She kneeled down rapidly, again loosing her balance, but whisking her skirt out of the way of the ground so she could talk to him. A few others watched from their dark crevasses to see if the boy would talk.
He did.
~A little shy~
"I was fetching some water from the top of the hill when . . . when . . ." Kagura had to lean forward to hear him, he was whispering so quietly.
She blinked. "When what?"
"When I saw it."
. . .
"Saw what, lad? What did you see?"
"I saw . . . a light."
!
Kagura's eyes widened as some people dragged themselves toward her and her sisters' ally. "Where boy?! Where did you see this light?!"
"Toward the top of the hill, at the inn."
Kagura gathered every bit of strength she had left to roll out of her ally and run up the cobblestone hill.
This . . . this couldn't be right . . . a light?! Here?! No. The boy must have been ly-
But she was struck down on the streets. Not by force of another, but by force of a strange aura of something that allowed the cobblestones colors of their choice. Some were red, some beige, some still gray. She looked up, her eyes tearing.
~And sad of eye~
He was . . .
He was right . . .
There was a light that shown down from the heavens and seeped into the tall inn. Aiming directly as it would seem at one direct window.
Kagura had never left her ally since that day. And she didn't know how long the light had been there. Others plopped themselves next to her and marveled at the phenomenon that had been absent since that fateful day.
That fateful day,
When the Moulin Rouge had its encore.
*
~But very wise, was he~
The ever absent sun light seeped into the room of the writer. His black slick hair, now messy, his clothes more dirty than ever, and his violet eyes, clamped shut until now.
They became victim to the wonder of the light that seemed to only appear in his room. His eyes, still half closed, blurred the shining sun. When his pupils had time to focus, he realized that the object that was illuminating was his typewriter.
It . . . it was time . . .
~And then one day~
The writer began to rise to his feet in difficulty but eventually stood up all together.
A faint voice made its way into the lad's head. A gentle female whisper. Oh how he longed for that voice for such a time! A year it had almost been! A year since the day when that voice left. The day when the gentle voice left him only to be awaited. The voice . . .
Of the woman he loved.
He dragged himself over to his type writer and stretched his fingers slowly, making sure the knuckles wouldn't break while writing.
~One magic day, he passed my way~
He began to write.
~And while we spoke of many things~
First his name,
Miroku R. Houshi.
~Fools and Kings~
Then, the title.
'The Moulin Rouge'
~This he said to me~
He licked his dry lips and began to tell the story that brought him closer and closer to his beloved.
~The greatest thing you'll ever learn~
This was a story about a time. A story about a place. A story about the people. But most of all,
~Is just to love, and be loved in return. ~
A story about love.
~*~
~Ria
AN: I know, I know. Short. Give me a break. I'm tired and it's 7:46 in the morning right now. So, *sticks tongue out*. Anyway, for all you people who have seen the movie or read the book, expect a little bit of change. Perhaps the ending? Muahahahaha.
^_^
Over and out.
AN: Well, the above pretty much covered it. Sorry to all you Camp Shikon fans out there, but I'm discontinuing it for a little while . . . *dodges rocks* Hey! *arrows* I said I was sorry! *bricks* Forgive me! *catapults* . . . etc. . . . Anyway, I'm not sure if this story has already been done before, so I'm sorry to whoever that is. It just popped in my head. ^_^ And yes, this is Mir/San. After reading and seeing the book and movie, Moulin Rouge, I realized the main character, Christian, is nothing like InuYasha. True, Miroku's not too much different, but I decided it would be easier to work with. There will be Inu/Kag though, not a lot, but some.
Enjoy!
Prologue
~*~
~There was a boy . . .~
The sky was coated with grayish mud clouds.
~A very strange,~
The small and no longer corrupt village of Mont Martre, lay hidden a top a hill of Paris. No longer corrupt, as it seemed, could not be taken so lightly. For the now drained, life-less, and some what hope-less people would have given anything to go back to the corrupt life they had had before.
~Enchanted boy.~
The streets, dark and gray as they were, could only be found empty. For all the real people of the village lay in the ally ways, slowly picking through garbage and waste, smoking until their last breaths took them to hell. Tired, they all were, for no light had ever seeped into the darkness of there village since that day.
That day.
~They say he wandered very far~
A boy, five years old it would seem, though actually closer to ten, ran through the streets of the small town. Few marveled from their little positions next to dumpsters or cobblestones. Others just merely went back to their intoxicated states. The boy was slightly crying, but not intentionally. One woman glanced out from her ally ever so slowly, while her only 'ally-mate' shook her head furiously from behind. Her midnight black hair tumbling over her truly not-so-concerned gaze. She examined the boy as he tried to re-enter himself into any given darkness. But was soon blocked out by the village folk in each one he went to. His callus covered hands clutching his eyes as if they were searing with pain.
The girl watched.
~Very far~
The boy came closer and closer to her ally.
Still, her eyes never averted. She heard a faint plea from behind her, "Don't . . . sister . . . please . . ."
The older sister paid no attention to her. The boy finally reached their ally, now tired and steaming with sweat, not having the words to ask politely to enter, but tried his way in anyway.
The girl let him. She stood back and allowed his frail and soon to be sickly body enter their own little patch of hell.
She faintly whispered to the boy. "What is it you want?"
The boy continued to pant rapidly.
~Over land and sea~
The older sister sighed impatiently. "Tell me, boy, tell me now."
The younger child in the back faintly whispered again. "Why . . . did you let . . . him in? Why . . . didn't you let . . . master take . . . care of it? Why, Kagura?"
Kagura shut her eyes almost instantly at the sound of her name. She stood up fast, loosing her balance in a way, for everything she was used to, moved slowly.
The boy just watched.
"Our master is dead you little shit. Don't you ever get it? He hung himself. Understand? Huh? Do you, Kanna?"
The little girl with the long white hair and pale skin winced slightly. Kagura scoffed. "See? You don't like being called your name. Neither do I. Here, it's a stigma for someone to call you your name. Especially us. Us who defended a man that eventually destroyed all these peoples' lives. Understand, little sister?"
She stayed silent and focused on the ground. "But . . . but when . . . will . . . master come back . . . for us? He . . . said he . . . would."
Kagura grunted. "You really are as thick headed as you look, you know that right?" She turned her gaze to the boy who was no longer panting. She kneeled down rapidly, again loosing her balance, but whisking her skirt out of the way of the ground so she could talk to him. A few others watched from their dark crevasses to see if the boy would talk.
He did.
~A little shy~
"I was fetching some water from the top of the hill when . . . when . . ." Kagura had to lean forward to hear him, he was whispering so quietly.
She blinked. "When what?"
"When I saw it."
. . .
"Saw what, lad? What did you see?"
"I saw . . . a light."
!
Kagura's eyes widened as some people dragged themselves toward her and her sisters' ally. "Where boy?! Where did you see this light?!"
"Toward the top of the hill, at the inn."
Kagura gathered every bit of strength she had left to roll out of her ally and run up the cobblestone hill.
This . . . this couldn't be right . . . a light?! Here?! No. The boy must have been ly-
But she was struck down on the streets. Not by force of another, but by force of a strange aura of something that allowed the cobblestones colors of their choice. Some were red, some beige, some still gray. She looked up, her eyes tearing.
~And sad of eye~
He was . . .
He was right . . .
There was a light that shown down from the heavens and seeped into the tall inn. Aiming directly as it would seem at one direct window.
Kagura had never left her ally since that day. And she didn't know how long the light had been there. Others plopped themselves next to her and marveled at the phenomenon that had been absent since that fateful day.
That fateful day,
When the Moulin Rouge had its encore.
*
~But very wise, was he~
The ever absent sun light seeped into the room of the writer. His black slick hair, now messy, his clothes more dirty than ever, and his violet eyes, clamped shut until now.
They became victim to the wonder of the light that seemed to only appear in his room. His eyes, still half closed, blurred the shining sun. When his pupils had time to focus, he realized that the object that was illuminating was his typewriter.
It . . . it was time . . .
~And then one day~
The writer began to rise to his feet in difficulty but eventually stood up all together.
A faint voice made its way into the lad's head. A gentle female whisper. Oh how he longed for that voice for such a time! A year it had almost been! A year since the day when that voice left. The day when the gentle voice left him only to be awaited. The voice . . .
Of the woman he loved.
He dragged himself over to his type writer and stretched his fingers slowly, making sure the knuckles wouldn't break while writing.
~One magic day, he passed my way~
He began to write.
~And while we spoke of many things~
First his name,
Miroku R. Houshi.
~Fools and Kings~
Then, the title.
'The Moulin Rouge'
~This he said to me~
He licked his dry lips and began to tell the story that brought him closer and closer to his beloved.
~The greatest thing you'll ever learn~
This was a story about a time. A story about a place. A story about the people. But most of all,
~Is just to love, and be loved in return. ~
A story about love.
~*~
~Ria
AN: I know, I know. Short. Give me a break. I'm tired and it's 7:46 in the morning right now. So, *sticks tongue out*. Anyway, for all you people who have seen the movie or read the book, expect a little bit of change. Perhaps the ending? Muahahahaha.
^_^
Over and out.