<< Inu Yasha, 0007 >>
Author: Hino- Kaachan
Original Text: Go To http://hearth.nekocentric.net/iy/s/sanctum.htm
Showing: Whole Story
Kage_Madoushi's comments: This fic does contain content that the average minor (under 17 years of age in this case) may feel uncomfortable reading this, but feel free to read it any way. Just be warned, okay?
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Disclaimer: The Inuyasha series is sole property of Takahashi Rumiko-sensei, Shogakukan Comics, Sunrise and Viz Communications. I wouldn't even want to own it -- much more fun to snatch them, mess with them and then return them.
Dedication: This story is for Nana-chan, for all her support, encouragement and kindness.
Rating: NC-17. This story contains adult material, dears. If you're underage, or scream in the face of lemon content, scram. Now.
Special Thanks go, first of all, to all the people on the Miroku&Sango ML who answered my questions of title issues and bedroom behaviour. Hug attack! Then I would like to express my profound gratitude to Kaerra, who has stuck with me through the whole three-part series, haunting me with grammar and vocabulary when I just wanted to give poetic lisence free rein. (Semicolons are your friends, yeah yeah.) Thanks also to Kaerra's wonderful mother, whose help ravelled a strange verbal knot in this story.
Author's Slightly Sweatdropping Note: I will confess up front that this is my first sort of lemon ever. This is also the conclusion of my "S" trilogy of Sango/Miroku stories. (The previous parts are Solace and Sojourn.) You don't have to have read the previous parts first, but know that Miroku and Sango are sort of together in this already. So hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen...
In the Background: Veitsentera, Revontulten repija, Minun sydameni on sarkynyt and Tuulilukko by CMX

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No sound save for the faint rustle of his footfalls broke the midnight silence as Miroku came from the bathhouse. The inn, the sole one in the village they had happened upon some time after nightfall, loomed before him in the star-speckled, moon-splashed darkness. Nothing moved in the veranda, and the windows were lightless patches in the wall of the building. That was to be expected -- the hour was beyond late, after all, and he lightened his steps as he climbed to the porch.

He entered the corridor through the woven door curtain and came face to face with the wife of the innkeeper, a matronly woman with a hawkish keenness in her now tired nut-brown eyes. She was carrying a lantern in one hand.

"Ah, houshi-sama. Was the bath good? I think your travelling companions, save for the young lady with the, um" -- her eyebrows furrowed as she searched for a both descriptive and diplomatic word -- "peculiar weapon, are already asleep."

Miroku nodded. "Yes, the bath was fine. I apologise for troubling you with it this late."

She waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Think nothing of it. You were dusty and tired all of you, if you don't mind my being blunt."

He nodded again to indicate that he did not mind. In truth, he was quite itching to retreat into the safety of the room. The day had been long and night had surprised them in the arid woods where shelter was scarce. It had been an old memory that had at last guided him to the village hidden in the crook of the hills; it had been a trek of two hours through the falling twilight. He was more stressed than weary, really, and being forced to uphold a polite front did not help matters.

"-- Since it's a cold night," the woman said, yanking him back to the discussion at hand.

"Pardon me?"

"I asked if you'd like some sake, since it's a cold night. I think I have a jug in the kitchen."

"That would be most kind of you," he said, waited as she hurried off with a quick bow.

They had come far inland, with the capital city of Kyoto barely seventy ri from their current location. None of them except Miroku himself had ever roamed these roads, and even his recollections were vague in places. The capital was in strife, and the upheaval rippled out into the countryside, causing insurrection and restlessness in a wide area round the city. That was why he had decided against sleeping out in the open and had, none too gently, made Inuyasha see the logic in his reasoning. Sango, Kagome and Shippou had not objected; the idea of a night in a proper bed was worth a few more hours of discomfort.

Their hostess returned then with a tray on which sat two small cups and an earthenware pitcher. He accepted it with a grateful smile, replied to her goodnights and went his way as quickly as courtesy allowed.

He released a genuinely relieved sigh as the shouji softly snapped shut behind him. The room was not large, but it was immaculately tidy. A futon had been spread over tatami that, while aged, were recently aired and intact, laid in precise lines across the floor. The stash of their weapons and other equipment was the sole disturbance of the clean, cozy impression. Latticework screens hung over the plain wall panels for some added privacy, their texture accentuated by the shimmer of the candle in a tall wrought-iron holder.

"Finally," Sango said in a mock upset tone. She shifted from her huddled sitting position against the far wall. The candlelight flitted over her so that one side of her face glowed golden while the other was cast in shadow.

"I beg your forgiveness," he answered with a straight face. "The good wife of our prestigious innkeeper kept me for a while."

Her eyebrows shot up into inquisitive arches. "And in what manner, may I ask?"

Miroku chuckled and crossed the floor to sit on the edge of the futon, setting down the pitcher and cups. "There is only one woman I have eyes for, and you know that," he said quietly.

"Yes, I suppose," she murmured, laying a conciliatory hand over his. "I'm sorry if I was snappy."

"It's all right," Miroku said somewhat flatly, but his fingers twining into hers spoke of a more involved frame of mind. He tugged stray tendrils of damp hair out of his eyes, whose soft violet was clouded with weariness. Nonetheless, warmth glimmered in them as he looked at her.

"What's that?" Sango's gaze turned to the tray he had brought, sniffing at the subtle aroma of the heated rice wine.

"Warm sake. To ward off the cold, she said. Do you want some?"

She sat onto her knees, edging a little closer to him. "Just a sip. I don't much care for that stuff."

"I take it you've never had a taste of good wine. This is, of course, cheap, but it is warm." He poured her half a cup, then waited as she took the pitcher and filled his. The sake was a far cry from prime quality, but it was palatable. More importantly, its pungent tang seeped into shivering limbs, soothing the numbness of cold hands and feet.

Miroku relaxed gradually. The futon looked irresistibly inviting, promising a few hours of rest in a bed instead of crouched against a wall or a tree in the open air. Furthermore, this was the first time in half a moon that they were actually alone. On the road privacy was a rare luxury, given that separating from the rest of the group was not only problematic but perilous as well. The countryside was rife with peasants rebelling against their lords, mostly in vain, and bandits and renegade ronin plagued the careless traveller. In addition to the mundane dangers, the Shikon fragments they carried were an irresistible bait to many a foolhardy youkai.

"Do you want another?" Sango's face was a hand's breadth from his own. What was it with women today that they managed to talk to him without him noticing at all?

"Yes... thank you." Miroku blinked a few times to clear his mind of wandering thoughts -- and then shook his head forcefully as he noticed that she was bent over him, just within reach, the supple curves of her shape discernible through the white yukata. He did want her in his arms, the clean scent of soap and herbs from her was mesmerising, but he also wanted to savour this for a while.

The spout of the jug clinked against the cup as Sango tilted the container with deft hands. A frown creased her brow as she scrutinised the man sitting beside her, lost in thought. His left hand held the cup listlessly, and he seemed concentrated upon something. She was always loath to disturb him whenever he fell silent like that, when his face became tight with memory or musing and his eyes gazed into distance. Now his countenance was gentle, but detached, and she quelled a splash of annoyance. He was there, finally there were no others, and maybe she should be content with that. Some part of her wished nothing more than to fall asleep nestled against him, and then another had an entirely different view of things... Ambivalent, Sango sat back and hugged her knees, trying to muster the courage to call him from the faraway places, touch him and make him only hers for a moment.

Suddenly she was pulled backwards against a warm, solid frame, Miroku's arms draping around her waist. She relaxed into his embrace with a sigh, her head finding a resting place on his shoulder. What words rose to her mind seemed unnecessary, only getting in the way of what could be imbibed simply by sitting like this, suffused in the presence of the other.

His words tickled the back of her neck as flutters of air when he spoke after a spell of quiet. "I wish I could take us away from all this for a while. Let you forget the danger..." Fumbling, he lapsed back into silence.

She looked up, that other part of her thoughts resurfacing. "Don't make me forget." She grasped his face between her hands. "Give me something to remember."

Miroku turned her around the rest of the way, fixing her with an expression that was equal parts yearning and amusement. "I might try."

Again she had accepted the situation in stride, he observed with a note of amazement. That was very much her -- that certainty of herself and him and the bond between them, enduring whatever they came across. Perhaps he should not think so much, indeed, but try her way sometimes...

He spent a minute just watching her. Her still water-heavy hair was gathered up into a loose bun that left her neck bare. He let his eyes linger on her face, bronzed by the flickering candle. His gaze tracked the fine tendons of her neck, the line of her shoulders, the shadow at the top of her yukata, the soft swell of her breasts under the cloth. He remembered the scent of her skin, the heat of her mouth on his, the way her muscles trembled under his touch -- taut as a bent bow --, the way he could become lost in her.

He raised a hand to her cheek. Sango smiled faintly, leaning forward.

His lips skimmed hers, her mouth opening to his query as her hands alighted on his upper chest. He drew her closer, moulded his mouth to hers and felt her shiver in anticipation.

Sango wondered dimly how a kiss could make her entire frame thrum like a plucked string, stirring such an intense reply. She wanted him nearer, skin against skin, feeling every arch of his body shape to hers, moving in the same rhythm. He gave a start as she slipped her hands under his yukata, tracing light patterns across his chest.

Miroku let out a small gasp, all thought save for desire stolen for the moment. Their lips parted as she leaned her weight into him, both tumbling backwards into the futon. She smiled into his eyes, her gaze almost dreamy, before dipping her head towards his neck.

Her lips drew a moist path down every sensitive spot on his neck, wandered in feathery, tantalising caresses over his chest. Her hands followed, peeling away the cotton of his yukata. He shrugged out of the garment and let himself sink into her closeness as she drew herself up again, capturing him in an unabashedly sensuous kiss. That was something about her that still surprised him: her ability to live completely in the moment; to surrender her entire being to their joining, not holding back. To him, it was a quality that seemed in poignant contrast with her usually reserved nature.

Ever so easily she undid the knot holding his sash, laughing softly against his cheek as he winced at the scant pressure of her palms gliding down his sides, leaving whispers of fire in their wake. His fingers shook with tension as he buried his hand into her tresses, plucked away the pins that held her bundled hair to allow it to cascade over them both. Before his rising need would take hold, he bent a leg over hers and reversed their positions, interrupting the dance of her hands on his skin.

She breathed out in surprise, but relaxed as he delved into the neckline of her yukata, parted the garment and stripped her to the waist in one motion. Her hands came free of him as he pulled the fabric from her damp skin. He lowered his head to taste the salt of her flesh, to scatter open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulders. She lay still, the swift rise and fall of her chest a clear indication of the effect of his nearness. His right hand extended to enfold her left one as he leaned lower, his mouth trailing over her breast in a tightening spiral.

She abruptly clutched his hand as he reached the sensitised peak, ran his tongue over it. He withdrew slightly, only to have her jerk him back with a hand clenched in his hair. She mouthed a smothered sound of disappointment, and he chuckled under his breath before again closing his lips over her nipple. He nibbled at the tender flesh until she was breathless beneath him, squirming as something unnameable, almost overwhelming washed through her. His other hand found her right breast, kneading it carefully, cautious not to rush her, watchful to rein himself in. His own desire ignited at the sight, sound and scent of her, yet he wanted this to last.

She fought for a fleeting while to gain control as his lips and hands seemed to be everywhere on her at once, his chest heaving against her own. She ached for him already, every inch of her skin tingling with the warmth pooling between her thighs.

Without warning he halted, hoisted her over him, rose into a half-sitting position and pushed her upright astride his hips. She looked at him in astonishment, eyes glazed from feeling so much coming into focus, and formed his name with her lips, a voiceless question. She was used to his weight on top of her, his arms around her. This was something new and strange, unexpected though not necessarily unwelcome.

He beheld her in silence, with all the reassurance he could convey in his eyes. She inhaled softly the air, pregnant with the perfume of smoke from the candle, the scents of their lovemaking, the whiff of sandalwood that she always connected to him.

Speechless, she embraced him fiercely, their limbs twining, the last clothes shed to the floor. Her hair fell in swirls of night-hued silk over the sheen of sweat on their skin as he lay back and brought her with him. She sprawled atop him, breathing rapidly into the hollow of his neck. He smoothed his hands down her back, his head falling back.

The mounting rush of sensation within them both did not allow for a long interlude: soon, he lifted her head, their lips locked again, renewing the elusive dance of need and trepidation. He groaned deep in his throat as her tongue slipped into his mouth, tangled with his. His other arm folded around her waist, keeping her there, while his free hand trailed down her belly and over her hips in gentle, teasing circles. Their breath echoed raspy in their ears of both, the tempo of hers suddenly cut by a harsh gasp as his fingers curled between her legs. The slow touch was electrifying, sending a whirl of heat through her as her hands fisted in the futon and her head sank against his tensed shoulder.

He felt the tightening of her muscles, heard the hushed moan that escaped her. He took a calming breath, almost as lost in longing as the woman there next to him, hovering on the thread-thin edge between passion and reason.

"Sango..." he called her softly, receiving in answer a face flushed by the fire-glow, her long locks tendrils of shadow over dark, tender eyes. She took in the spark of lust and mischief in his eyes, tempered by a deep-seated gentleness, sensed how his whole body quavered as he brushed her hair away.

Lifting her legs over his she straddled him, all the while holding his gaze that reflected the candle as a fine sliver of gold on lavender. She lowered herself onto him, biting deep into her lip at the sharp sensation of his flesh sliding into her. He made an muffled moan that echoed her swallowed sound of need; his hands on her waist steadied her as she, or each of them, adjusted to the position.

After a frozen moment, she began moving cautiously, rocking her hips. He was beyond keeping still, and met her thrust for thrust as, little by little, they found a shared rhythm. She hovered above him, her back a tight arch as her hands fumbled for his, their fingers lacing together, as near as a person alive can be to another.

He gasped wordlessly as the pleasure peaked, and gripped her hands convulsively. This time the cry came from her throat unbridled as his hips bucked beneath her. She teetered on the edge for what seemed an unbearably long time -- all senses flooded with him -- then a spasm of release finally melted the tension and she collapsed onto his chest, panting, spent.

A while passed as they eased apart, still holding on to each other. She groped about to find something that might serve as a blanket, pulling one of the yukata up and over them. It was getting uncomfortably cool in the room, now that they rested unmoving. To escape the draught winding its way in through the shouji she ducked beneath the cover, back into his warmth. His lips brushed her ear as she nuzzled her head into his shoulder.

Thankful for both her closeness and the blanket, he made no effort to banish the pleasant drowsiness seeping through his mind. For the moment the night was soundless, wrapped around them like a warding, limiting the world to the nest of the futon and the heat of their bodies.

She was the first to speak, ravelling the silence. "Miroku... what... what do you think we'll be? What are we?" As soon as she said the words, Sango had to puzzle what had made her voice them now. She knew that the emotions between them ran deep and true, that what they had shared but a moment before could only strengthen the ties that bound them.

"Well, you're -- you're my Sango," he said softly, holding her face between his hands.

"Oh?" A hint of sharpness permeated her timbre at his choice of words. "Is that so?"

"Was that unsatisfactory, then?" Miroku's brow creased, not entirely in mock distress. "I'm afraid I cannot define you much further than that. You surprise me too often. You... you are yourself, Sango, always."

She suddenly smiled. "I wasn't referring to that."

"You --" He moved quickly, and she let out a small gasp as she found herself looking up at him, his weight holding her to the futon. "There you are, a woman who has just loved me to the verge of insensibility, and you're worrying that..." He could not quite shape the rest of the thought into words. But somehow the idea that she would question his devotion now...

Now they were her hands that found his face, almost timidly, and carefully cupped his cheeks. "Oh, Miroku. Don't -- don't say anything more. I was teasing you, that's all."

He sighed and allowed her to press his head into the contour of her shoulder, wrapping her into a loose embrace. She was warm beneath him, both soft and solid. I know, he said to her without sound, his mouth drawing a moist mark in the hollow of her throat. I know, beloved one.

Sango felt the faint caress of his lips, but she was far too content to simply lie there in his arms, cradling his head, and idly watch as the candle stirred the shadows across the ceiling. He was such a confusing one sometimes, she decided, shifting from utter seriousness to gentle teasing or eloquent pleasantries and back again in the blink of an eye. Be that as it might, he held her heart, and she had given it freely. She was aware of that they might have little by way of a future together, and she often suspected that he bore much heavier worries about that than she did. It seemed ingrained in him, akin to the duty he had to his family to dispel the curse of the air void if he only could. Or then he had to leave an heir to carry on his quest.

The thought gave her pause. She had been taught by the women of her village about several herb blends that could prevent pregnancy, but they were not sure methods. Though it was unlikely, a child could be growing inside her -- a child that might lose its father before its birth, a child that she might outlive, if it was any indication that Miroku had barely seen twenty winters. That was what his foster father, Mushin, had said to them, that the monk had less than one cycle of the seasons to live.

She was filled with both sorrow and resolution. It was not often that she let herself even speculate what would befall them if they could not destroy Naraku in time. But the fear and doubt were there, in a deep hidden place within her heart, and sometimes they did spring forth.

Miroku's breathing had settled into a regular rhythm, and she guessed that he had dozed off. His arms still encircled her, but the weight of him over her was slack now.

Stay with me, she begged him silently. Stay with me. Her arms wound more tightly about his shoulders and upper back.

Feeling her move, he stirred a little, peering up at her with half-lidded eyes. They opened wider as he caught the unmasked anxiety in her gaze. "Sango?"

A strange sense of relief washed through her at the sight of his familiar, vivacious eyes, at the feel of him shifting against her. "I was just wondering... about what will be."

He tumbled over, conscious of that he must have been pressing her. However, she followed his movement, burying herself into his side as if she were trying to physically meld into him. He gathered her close. "Sango... as long as my life lasts, I will stay with you. That is the most I can promise you."

She rose enough to find his gaze. Hers was dark with feeling, shimmering with trust. "As if I would let you sneak away."

Miroku hugged her all of a sudden, pulling her nearer still if it was at all possible. Sango held him to her, realising that he had answered her unvoiced entreaty in the only way he could, had given the most he had to give.

When he finally released her, he was grinning, in that both crooked and tender way that made her smile in return almost without fail. "That is my Sango."

She did not only smile, she chuckled, a warm throaty sound. "That's it, I think. We are us, together, whatever the future holds."

He stifled a yawn. "And it does seem that I am exhausted."

She laughed into his skin. "How about sleep, then?"

He combed his fingers through the coils of dark hair tickling his chin. "I second that suggestion."



Neither of them woke to the shuffle of steps up to the shouji, accompanied by hasty conversation. Even the sound thwap to the doorframe failed to invoke a response.

"Oi, Miroku! Sango! What the hell're you doing?!"

"Inuyasha, maybe you shouldn't --"

The shouji was thrown open with a loud bang. The noise wrenched Sango awake like icy water in the face. In the space of a breath three realisations invaded her sleep-fogged mind. One, she was snuggled against Miroku. Two, they were both naked under the tangle of fabric that was their yukata. Three, there were three extra people in the room. Something was decidedly amiss. She jerked bolt upright, snatching the nearest piece of clothing to cover herself.

Inuyasha stood in the doorway, looking hell-bent on dragging the two of them onto the road by the throat if needed. Kagome, who had her rucksack strapped on, was peering over the dog-demon's arm, still on the opened sliding door, and Shippou perched on his shoulder.

Kagome, at least, had the grace to blush as comprehension dawned. "Ah -- sorry -- we were just --"

"What is this commotion about?" Miroku inquired as he sat up, with smoothness that suggested this was not the first time he had received such a wakening.

"Uh -- Inuyasha was --"

"Don't fucking make me the culprit here!" the half-demon barked, his cheeks heating.

"B-but you said they were late," Kagome tried.

"Should've known to expect something like this from the perv --" Inuyasha was cut off by Kagome's hand over his mouth.

"Go on like that and I will say the S-word!"

"That does it." Sango had managed to wrap the yukata around herself and belt it on. Her eyes blazed in a way that would have sent a horde of youkai bolting for cover.

"Going somewhere?" The almost boyish smile on Miroku's face trapped her for a moment.

She shot a smouldering glance at the slowly backtracking threesome at the door. "I'll just handle this first. Don't go anywhere."

"If you so wish." He grinned. She planted a wet, impulsive kiss on his mouth, then turned to the doorway.

"Say, Kagome, what's wrong?" Shippou, unfazed, added his opinion to the discussion. "They're just sleeping --"

"I guess we'd better run," Kagome breathed, pulling Inuyasha with her into the corridor.

"-- Together!" Shippou's observation drowned into the noise of feet drumming on the floor as Sango raced after them with a battle cry worthy of a samurai. Inuyasha's cursing and Kagome's giggle-filled screams reverberated behind them. Now, surely, there was no one asleep in the inn any more, Miroku suspected as he methodically began searching for his garments in the heap of clothing strewn on the floor. But then, they were known for causing havoc wherever their little band journeyed. Of course, mostly it was havoc of the best kind -- that which ultimately made the world around them a safer place. And as far as sanctuaries went, this company of misfits, roamers and friends was not a bad one in itself.

Fin

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futon: a thin Japanese mattress, often made of straw back in the feudal era, that can be rolled up for the day
houshi: a low-ranked Buddhist monk, often with combat training
ri: an old Japanese measure of distance; equals 3,9 kilometres
sake: Japanese rice wine; generally only drunk warmed, and in small portions -- potent stuff
-sama: a respectful name suffix; loosely translates to lady or lord
samurai: a member of the warrior/noble caste in feudal Japan; also used to indicate a soldier of aristocratic birth
shouji: a sliding wall panel made of rice paper over a wooden frame
tatami: a thick reed mat; in traditional Japanese architecture, rooms are measured by the number of tatami that can be laid on the floor
yukata: a simple robe-like garment; worn as sleepwear

Oh my god, the sap... But regardless, I'm still alive! Maybe I'll try Inuyasha and Kagome next...

<< Inu Yasha, kagemadoushi001 >> Love Is For Triangles.
Love Is For Triangles
By kage_madoushi

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" I don't understand you sometimes, Inu Yasha. You can't seem to choose between me and that spoiled brat Kikyo-"

"She's not spoiled, Kagome."

"See!?! That is my whole point. You are such a big jerk, Inu Yasha. So go ahead. Make my day. And take Kikyo.

"What are you talking about, Kagome? Kagome? KAGOME!?!" Inu yasha called out as he watched the infuriated Kagome stomp off in jealousy, anger, and hate.

"What did you do to that poor girl now, Inu Yasha," Miroku scolded as he hit Inu Yasha in the head with his staff. As soon as he did so, Inu Yasha growled, yanked the staff out of the monk's hands, and threw it roughly a mile away.

"Listen, Mirok. Maybe you don't get it, but me and Kagome are having some troubles at the moment. SO BE SO KIND AS TO LEAVE US ALONE!" Inu hissed as he glared at the monk.

"We? Who's we? You saw Kagome stomp off and-"

"Shut up you damn pervert! What advice could you possibly give me? that's right, NONE! So do me a favor and go back to your lover and leave me alone.. leave me to my thoughts, would you!"

"Lover?!?! Leave you to your thought? Well, Inu Yasha, I do recall a time when Sango asked you to leave her to her thoughts, but you violated her wishes!" Miroku spat, but it didn't seem like Inu Yasha was listening. Even if he was... even 'if' he was, he didn't acknowledge Miroku's last comment.

"Go back to Sango. She can keep you away from me. She can keep you busy. Entertained."

Miroku was infuriated. "She wouldn't. Do... That. Now shut the-"

"Okay then, I've got it."

"Exuse me?"

"An idea. Why don't you let me go back to Sango. I'll show her how she deserves to be treated.

"Yeah right," Miroku commented sarcastically, but then regained seriousness. "Hell, Inu Yasaha. You can't even impress one of your two girlfriends, so what would flirting with mine do for you?" he spat as he waited for a reply.

There was none.

"Okay then, Inu Yasha. Flirt with her. Or bring it to the next level. I'll doubt you'll get any further with her than I have-"

"Damn straight."

"Can I finsh now? Anyway, I will take on Kagome and-"

"No you won't!"

"Hey, you'll be with my Sango, so..." Miiroku taunted as he waited for Inu Yasha to say something.

"Your on, monk. But if you touch Kagome I'll-"

"Wait, Inu Yasha, when you said darn right, you clearly understood what I meant when I said 'bring your relationship to the next level'. If I heard coreectly, you'll be touching Sango. A wholw lot. Not that I am happy about that in any way."

"Whatever. You're on!" They both seemed to shout out at the same time as they huffed away from eachother, Miroku anxious to touch- err.. find Kagome, and Inu Yasha scurried to find Sango. ((me: sorry that was so confusing. But you wouldn't want a little kid to have just figured that whole conversation out, now would you? XP I am sooo evil...))

"This isn't going to look goo, eh, Myoga.." Shippou, who had been silently watching the two argue along with Myoga, sighed in horror. "This isn't gonna look good... I don't want to see my friends fight..." he said as he and Myoga jumped down from the tree and looked around to see who they'd run into first- Miroku or Inu Yasha.

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Chapter Two

It was getting late. The setting sun casted beautiful streaks of colors in all directions. Soft shades of pink and brown and yellow glittered over a distant, yet visable blue sea. Miroku was about to give up hope on finding Kagome that night until he heard a rustling in the woods. 'Could it be..?' he thought to himself as he rushed off into the woods. "Kogme? Kagome?!?" He called out sevral times, looking aroun each tree trunk and bush, looking for the source of the rustling. In the process, he found his cane. ((me: 0.0 What?)) Just then , something jumped down from out of the tees, startling Miroku.

"Hey there, Miroku!" Kagome said with a smile, though it was clear to tell she had just recently been cring. Tear stains were all over her pale cheeks and some were still quite damp. Miroku held her in his arms.

"Don't cry, Kagome.," he said softly.

Kagome blushed, but at the same time felt a bit guilty. "I am.. sad though, Miroku. Jealous, if you will..." Kagome forced herself out of his arms and walked back to the tree in which she had previously ben crying in. "What does Kikyo have I don't? What is Inu Yasha's problem? What did I do? Miroku?!?" Kagome fel to the ground. She started crying again.

"Now there, Kagome, no more tears. It'll be okay," Mroku said, holding his had out for Kagome to grab. Kagome slapped it away.

"If I never see Inu Yasha again, it'll be too soon," Kagome said as she huffed off farther into the woods. The pink and gold sky was quickly turning blue and pink shades, foreshadowed by navy and black ((me: wow! I never thought I knew what foreshadowing meant! And I still don't but it sounds cool... o___0)), and Miroku hadn't got Kagome to fall for him yet... all the while, he wondered how things with Sango and Airhead ((We like to call him Inu Yasha)) were doing....
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Inu Yasha was searching for her the whole time. He hadn't seen her all the night, and he wasn't expecting ot find her at all that night. Inu Yasha grabbed his Tetsusaiga and sliced down several trees at once. "COME OUT, SANGO!" He screamed on the top of his lungs. Two crows and a robin flew out of the trees, followed by several insects. He thought he had accomplished nothing until he heard a soft voice.

"What do you.. w-want?" Sango asked Inu Yasha histerically. It was easy to tell she was crying, but Inu Yasha didn't know why.

"What is wrong, Sango?" Inu Yasha was acting.. nice. Quite.... ... ... ... strangly, if you would.

"Its... Miroku. He... just left me here..."

"Just left you here? Why?"

"Well.. we did kind of get into an arguement first, but...oh, Inu Yasha..." Sango said as she lay down on the moist grass of the woods.

"Please Sango, you don't need to cry.. relax. Forget Miroku. No one needs him. And neither do you. He might call you 'his', but your not 'his'. You are your own living, thinking, individual body with a heart and a soul (me: Inu would never say this, but I had to use this once to fend off my friend's stalker once..okay 4 times but still... 0___o) "

Sango stopped crying a bit. "Thanks, Inu Yasha."

With that, the sun seemed to have comletely been set, and it eas almost to dark to see, as the only light that was soon available was the moon's golden glow. Sango lay in the same posistion on the damp grass of the woods, while Inu Yasha raced up a tree and decided to sleep there. Back at the far north end of the woods, Kagome had already been asleep sitting up in the warm entanglement of Miroku's arms. Shippou and Myoga were asleep in an open field near the woods, with Shippou's tail being the only source of warmth. Both Myoga nad Shippou were anxious to find one of the two couples in the morning to see what was going on.. or perhaps, only to make things worse...
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Chapter Three

Kagome woke up with a yawn. Due to her motions, Miroku was forced to wake up also. When they were both up, Kagome went off in search of a stream. She felt terrible dirty (minds out the gutter... >.<) and her hair felt terribly knotted. Miroku followed her, and it didn't seem like Kagome cared much. As a matter of fact, Kagome seemed to actually start to like Miroku, even so knowing about his lecherous ways.

They were both silent almost all morning until they had finally reached the a stream. They sun was shining bright enough to clearly be seen throught the canopy of the woods, and the sky seemed to be almost perfectly blue. A cloud wasn't seen for miles.

"Hey, the water's warm this morning," Kagome said as she started to until her ribbon from her shirt. She slowly slipped of her socks and shoes and then reached for her skirt next. Miroku surprisingly turned his head, but wanted to look back the more he forced himself not to... and luckily for him, he eventually heard the splash of water. Kagome had gotten in and the water was completely surrounding her.

"How's the water? Still a bit warm or no?" he asked, sort of blushing a deep red.

"Why don't you come in and find out!" Kagome said softly. And being the pervert that he is, he was about to agree and come in... (me: STUPID MIROKU!) .. untill he heard the soft voice of his girlfriend, Sango, along with the rustling of leaves following her, wich had to be Inu Yasha. Kagome let out a gasp and quickly sunk herself into the water. As Sango walked up, she saw the splash of her go under, and I bet you know what she was thinking. (If you don't ask me under 'coments'.)

"Miroku, what is going on here?" she asked as she bent down and slwoly lifted up Kagome's skirt. At that moment, Kagome had to come up for air. Sango just glared at Miroku in surprisement, anger, and jealousy. She dropped Kagome's skirt.

"Don't tell me you were just planning to.. and Kagome was... ughh..." Sango turned her head in disgust.

Inu Yasha, remembreing that he was supposed to show Inu Yasha how to treat a girl, he walked up to Sango.. slowly..

"Don't worry about that bastard. You don't need to waste your time with that," Inu Yasha said, not paying any mind to the glare that Miroku was shooting him.

Sango's eyes lit up somehow. "You know.. you are right. Ever since I have been with you, you have been giving me the best advice I have ever gotten. I thank you for that.." She said as he grabbed his hand with one and with the otherthrew her arm around his back, and slowly but passionately started to kiss him. Inu Yasha wanted to push her away, but he wanted so much to shove that kiss into Miroku's face, so much to his disliking, he slowl y kissed her back.

Miroku gasped in shock. He actually felt tears swell in his eyes. 'What the... Inu Yasha.. he was right.. Sango hates me. She hates me!' he thought as he fell to the ground.

Kagome didn't care what Inu Yasha did, because she was still already hurt and betrayed by him. But when she saw the hollow glare that Miroku was giving Inu Yasha and Sango, she realized something.

Inu Yasha had broken his soul.

Kagome, still naked and dripping wet from the bath, jumped out of the stream and yelled 'Sit Boy!'. Inu Yasha came to the ground with a thud. Sango glared at Kagome. (yes, in the eyes, you perverts.) She walked up to Kagome. "What was that for?! He never did anything wrong! He-" Sango was cut off when Kagome smackd her in the face. Sango was immensly offended and slapped her across the face, once with the palm of hre hand, the second time with the back of her hand (me: and that had to hurt, from all of the times she slapped Miroku, she has to be good at it). Inu Yasha broke up the fight when he pushed Kagome back into the stream. Miroku shook himself out of his daze.. and was infuriated once more. He walked up behind Sango, grabbed her shoulders, hesitantly (is that a word) kissed her face, and swung her into the stream after Kagome. Kagome got back out already, follwed by a furious Sango was about to smack the life out of Miroku, but Kagome halted her. The two girls just sat and watched the men (if you can call them men still) fight. Sango burst out in tears... 'I made out with him... but they were actually about to .. to... I cannot forgive him...' Sango thought as a wide range of emotions filled her mind.

"Sango!" Miroku cryed as he walked over to Sango, but Inu Yasha pushed him back.

"She's mine now, don't fogret."

"No..."

"Yes. And you can't do anything. What is wrong? I mean, you have another girlfriend now, and look, she's already taken her clothes off for-" Inu Yasha was silenced by a clunk in the head from Miroku's staff. "I still love her, okay?! I wasn't happy to pretend to want to... with Kagome!"

"You weren't?" Kagome hissed. "Well fine then!" Kagome gathered her clothes, got dressed, and walked away.

"But Kagome, I thought you loved me!" Inu Yasha exclaimed as he threw a stick at her.

"But Inu Yasha, weren't we going.. to..."

"But Sango, what about me?"

"What about you?" Kagome snapped.

Shippou and Myoga watched the crazed adults fight from afar , in the highest brach of the highest teree. They both sighed as they knew it was too late. They couldn't help solve the problem if they triend. And even if they did try, it wouldn't help them the least! "Come on, Myoga." SHi;ppou sighed as he walked from brach to branch. He was foing a good job of this, mind you, until he heard Sango scream 'PERVERT'. Shippou immideatly lost his balnce and he and Myoga fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Immideatly, they all stopped one arguemnt and started another.

"Were you watching us the whole time?!?!?" They all spat at once.

"You saw me naked?!?" Kagome scolded.

"You saw me make out with Inu Yasha?" Sango snapped.

"You personallly saw my spirit break?" Miroku said coldly.

"You did,didn't you?" Inu YAsha said, as he couldn't think of anything embarrasing that happened ro him.

All at once, they startd beating and smacking Shippou and Myoga until sundown. It must've been the wind, but it seemed as if the moon winked that night.
****************************
They next morning everyone was silent. They were all mad at each other still but were tired of fighting.

Shippou and Myoga were the first to awaken.

"I'm glad we helped out," Shippou and Myoga agreed. (If there ever was a time I wanted to vote those two idiots off, it would be right now. >.<)

~~~~~~~~ The end ~~~~~~~~

How was it? Feel free to leave a commetn (or insult, as there were a bit of *cough* wierd *cough* parts in it, fell free to post them! Hope to hear from you all!

Just to let you guys know, stay tuned for 'Love is for squares' as my next fic. It will be a bit more of what happned in this one. And watch out for 'Love:: What's the point?'. That'll be the sequel to both of them! And be aware that each of these do take place in an alternate universe.. XP XP XP XP

Whoah 0___O what is with me and naming my fics after geometry terms?!?!? EEEEEEEEKKKKKK!!!!!!!! Ok sorry about that continue.

<< Inu Yasha, 0006 >> SOLACE
Author: Hino-Kaachan
Original Text: Go To http://hearth.nekocentric.net/iy/s/solace.htm
Showing: Whole story
Note from Kage_Madoushi: I better include this. These are fan fics, and occasionally I'll get around to writing my own. FAN FICS. None of these FAN FIC AUTHORS Own any material in their fics! I am no acception! Also if you find your fic here, please send me a comment stating you'd a) like it to stay up b) take it off or c) simply just comment. Okay, go ahead and read it now.
__ __ __ __ __ ___ __
Disclaimer: Miroku belongs to Sango, and they are both legal property of Takahashi Rumiko-sensei, Shogakukan Inc. and Sunrise. (Oh, and the latter goes for the other members of Inuyasha-tachi, too.) This piece of late-night creative madness is mine. If you want to use it, ask me first.
Dedication: This story is, with admiration, dedicated to Sango-sama for her remarkable work in uniting the Sango/Miroku fandom. ^_^
Rating: PG-13 (for a gentle waft of lime = adult-ish content, ye ignorants!)
Author's Cinnamon-Scented Note: This fic was written in answer to Sango-sama's "Cooking" challenge. It involves Miroku, Sango, and late night around the campfire. The focus doesn't always stay on the food, but I hope it's there enough. And believe it or not, this is actually the first even remotely lime-flavoured story I've written that bears public scrutiny. So tell me what you think.
Author's Cat-Eared Apology & Thanks: I would like to apologise to Jed-san for borrowing a line. It just was such a cool one, I couldn't resist. Sorry. ^.^; And last but not least, my heartfelt thanks to Kaerra, who took the time to pre-read and comment on this piece for me. *huggles* Thank you!

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"Here, Sango-chan." Kagome tossed a bag made of rustling, transparent material -- was it called plastic? -- into the huntress's lap. Sango frowned as she pulled out of the contents a strange specimen: a darkish orange fruit with an almost subliminal, sweet fragrance.

"What is this?"

"They're called oranges." Kagome pronounced the name slowly and carefully. "They grow in the far south, but in my time they're shipped to Japan, too. Just don't try eating the skin. It tastes horrible." She made a face as she rummaged through her backpack. "Mama gave me tons of food again, so we have to eat something or I'll keel over with the weight."

"I see," Sango said and turned to tend to the fire. The pieces of ashwood snapped and cracked as the flames consumed them, and the sylvan woodland swished and chittered around them. They had sought shelter in a hollow in the forest floor which curved into a glen and dropped into a clear-watered creek that gurgled softly over the sandy soil. There was something magical to being in the heartwoods late at night, with only the campfire to keep vigil against the creatures that rasped and rushed about in the summer twilight.

"Hey, Kagome, what's this stuff? Tastes weird," came Shippou's voice from the uncharted depths of the backpack. A paw was extended, holding a golden brown cake of some kind. It sported clear toothmarks.

"It's a cinnamon roll, Shippou-chan," Kagome answered. "Don't eat them yet, they're for dessert. That is, if Inuyasha manages to catch something to turn into supper."

"Shi-na-mon rou-ru?" the little fox demon ground out. "Somethin' like dumplings?"

"Well, not exactly," Kagome said. "They're a Western food, but Mama bakes them often. They're Souta's favorites." A faint smile graced her features as she spoke of her brother. There had not been much laughter among them since they had set out from Kaede's village in the morning. Kagome had sensed a Shikon shard in the northernmost part of Musashi's Domain, but unfortunately the fragment was in the possession of an old, devilishly cunning cat demon, whose underlings had forced their little band to beat a hasty retreat, battered and shaken by the magics of the great demon. Now they were making their way back, healed and armed with new arrows, careful plans and, in Inuyasha's case, a puffed-up attitude.

They had camped on the fringes of the demon's territory, and every shadow held a potential threat. What was more, they were still only six in number, and Shippou, despite his loud mouth and staunch loyalty, was no fighter. They were likely to suffer some serious injuries, and the shade of a very real danger stifled smiles and hushed carefree chatter. A tight silence had been a constant companion as they had forged on through the lush wilderness.

But not facing the perils meant possibly giving Naraku a chance at a shard they could not afford to lose. And so they were here, hiding at the threshold of the enemy. Bright though it was, the fire was small, and Sango had a bag filled with sand close at hand to pour into the flames if they needed to be doused quickly.

Death was often so near that a single word might invite it too close. Thus, the girls tried to shake off their dark misgivings as they washed the roots Sango had gathered in the stream, and waited for Inuyasha and Miroku to return.

"Where'd Miroku-sama go, exactly?" Kagome asked, rinsing her hands in the cool water.

"Houshi-sama said he was going to set up wards around the camp, so we can sleep in peace." Sango shook water from her fingers. "Kirara's with him," she added, to assure both Kagome and herself that the monk was safe and sound.

"Oh. That's good." Kagome nodded in approval. "I wonder what's taking Inuyasha so long." Her voice turned wistful as she glanced up into the canopy of leaves above them, a timbre of mingling worry and yearning in her words. Sango squeezed her friend's shoulder comfortingly, understanding, on some level, what she felt every time the half-demon left her line of sight. It was clear as water that Inuyasha and Kagome were growing more and more close as the days passed. At first, it had just been those small, slipped words and secretly shared tender looks, but after walking in on them a few times as they had slunk away from the camp, Sango had decided her suspicions confirmed. They were shy and stubborn both, but somehow they had found a safe place in each other, a sanctuary that none of the dangers their small company faced could breach.

'I'm glad,' she said to herself. 'They've achieved something that will last through everything Naraku can throw in our way.'

Inside her, there was a sharp stab into that hollow spot that had formed in her heart when she had watched her father and companions die. She shook her head viciously, trying to banish the ache.

"Sorry, Kagome. There's nothing bigger than a squirrel within an hour's run." Inuyasha's voice almost startled the young taijiya as she straightened herself. The dog-demon had materialised right from the gloom of the forest, and stood a tad sullen beside the campfire.

"It's okay, Inuyasha," Kagome soothed, indicating the roots and a bundle of sweet potatoes Sango had dug from her bag. "We won't starve."

He sank into a sitting position, visibly relieved. "But good news is, this place seems safe. There're no signs of demons here." His ears twitched languidly back and forth.

"Yup," Shippou said, hastily licking a crumb of cinnamon roll from his nose. "I couldn't smell anythin' either."

Sango peeked at the kitsune cub over the pot where their supper, the vegetable stew, was slowly coming to a boil. "Can you find houshi-sama and Kirara, Shippou? They've been gone a bit long."

"I nearly ran into one of his damned wards," Inuyasha said over his shoulder. "He's sittin' by the river some way downstream. Said he'd be back in a while."

"Now, Inuyasha," Kagome admonished. "It's better that Miroku-sama set those wards, right?"

"They're just making me, I don't know, so bloody uneasy," he grumbled without much venom. Even though the seals were for his protection as well, the demon blood in him did not recognise the benevolent intent, merely the fact that they were fueled by holy power and designed to bar creatures like him from passing them.

"Alright then," Sango said. "They'll miss supper if they don't turn up soon, though Kirara probably hunted for herself already."

"The scent should draw them here," Kagome mused. "What did you put in that? It smells good."

Sango lifted a cloth pouch closed with plaited cord. "It's a secret blend of my mother's. Mountain thyme, a hint of sage... and the rest I won't tell." She smiled. "But it can make nearly anything taste good, and that's what matters most."

"Hmm," Kagome said, fumbling through her backpack to find the bowls. The stew simmered quietly, Kagome sneaked closer to Inuyasha, and Sango and Shippou exchanged a conspiratorial smile as she finally laid her head on his shoulder, and he leaned towards her. Kirara loped from the forest like a stray wisp of the night clouds, mewling on Sango's lap until she gave in and began stratching the cat carefully behind the ears and down her neck.

"Where's houshi-sama, Kirara? Where did you leave him?" she whispered to the tiny feline as she curled against her.

"You want me to get Miroku, Sango?" Shippou asked, stirring the pot with a stick. "I don't think he's moved. We'd have heard him."

"No, no," she declined, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Inuyasha and Kagome, who were falling into some private, silent sphere of their own. She took a bowl and used it to scoop the hot stew into the other ones. "I can keep the stew warm for him."

They ate without much conversation, savouring the warm food and the calm that had settled over the camp. Sango collected the bowls and spun them in the stream to clean them, then poked at the dying fire to coax some life into the embers. She unfurled her blanket onto the grass, and Kirara immediately occupied a corner of it. Shippou, yawning hugely, soon followed, and before long both of them slept soundly. Sango hugged her arms around her knees and stared as the subtle blue hues of the flames danced into scarlet and orange and back into a greenish tinge where the heat was most intense.

'I'm doing a lot of this lately. Keeping watch... for something I know nothing about. Staring into the fire. Waiting.'

"Sango-chan?"

"Yes?" Her head came up as Kagome bent over her.

"I... we... that is, I'm going with Inuyasha..." The other girl was suddenly groping for words, and her cheeks were not flushed only by the glow of the fire.

'To be alone for a while,' Sango completed the phrase. She reached to pat Kagome's arm. "Go. I think you need it. Both of you. Good night." She did not look as she heard the soft shuffle of Inuyasha's steps, the swish of air that marked their leaving. 'But not alone like I'm here... or like houshi-sama, whatever he's doing...

'I guess he missed supper.'

She tossed a length of wood into the fire, sending shuddering sparks into the air to swarm golden and brief over the flames before fading away. The moon hung above the treetops, suspended by the threads of the summer stars, spanning the skies in silvery patterns. The night was clement and balmy, a welcome respite from the sometimes sweltering daytime heat. It was almost possible to forget the perils into which they were headed.

Absent-mindedly, she began chewing on one of Kagome's strange buns. A spicy, pungently sweet taste spread into her mouth, and she grimaced involuntarily. It was not bad, but a certain floury tang bothered her a bit. She took a second, more careful bite.

"It appears that I came too late, hm?"

Sango nearly bit her tongue. How on earth did he walk that softly? Especially since he usually signalled of his arrival with the shakujou, to boot.

She swallowed the doughy substance in her mouth. "For the stew, yes. Inuyasha and Shippou were both here, so what did you expect, houshi-sama?"

"I might have known," Miroku said with a resigned sigh and sat down, folding his legs. "Is there anything edible left here? I must confess I am somewhat hungry. Too much thinking." The last words were so quiet she scarcely caught them.

"Do you want a cinnamon roll?" Sango attempted to utter the name precisely as Kagome had said it.

"Perhaps," he answered and turned the bun in his hand. "I believe this is something Kagome-sama brought."

"Un," she confirmed, brushing her fingers to the grass. "It's... curious. Not bad, though."

Miroku took an experimental bite, his brow crinkling. "Certainly... exotic. Quite spicy, too. But one can eat it perfectly well." With that, he ate the rest of the roll.

"Do I need to ask where Inuyasha and Kagome-sama are?"

"Not really," Sango said, rhetorically. "Where do they always sneak off to..."

"It seems more and more common that it is just the two of us here," Miroku continued. "Were you going to sleep?" He plucked another cinnamon roll from the bag that lay on the ground beside Sango. "It is quite safe, I trust. I set wards in a circle round the camp -- though I had to leave a gap for Inuyasha to traverse the shield."

She eyed him with no little suspicion. Short of Kagome sleeping back to back with her, perhaps the only thing that could stall the houshi was sleeping against Kirara's flank. "No. I intended to keep watch for a while... and wait for you to return."

His eyes seemed to darken at the comment, and he leaned forward just a little, not quite enough to invade her personal space, but hovering uncomfortably near. Her throat felt dry, and she fumbled one of the fruit into her hand to get something to focus her attention on.

"That is... I was worried. We're on demon territory, anyway. You... you shouldn't go out on your own." She dug a small work knife from her bag, remembering Kagome's words of warning about eating the skin along with the rest of the fruit.

"Well, I'm not on my own now," he said in a low voice, and his gaze shifted to the flames.

Sango worried her lower lip with her teeth, trying to calm her erratic breathing, to fill the silence that tightened in the air between them. "I-I think none of us are. We -- we wouldn't have got this far if we hadn't been together." She pressed the blade into the skin of the orange, meticulously pulling at it to reveal the flesh beneath.

"I suppose you are right, Sango," Miroku agreed, the ceaseless flow of the fire creating a living mask of shadow and light on his face. "And yet those one cares for may also become a weakness."

"Or be a strength," she said slowly, separating the sections of the fruit with her fingers. "Just... just how many times has Kagome-chan meant the difference between victory and surrender to Inuyasha? They... they fight for each other -- and for us, too."

Miroku was still for a while, watching the movement of her hands as she partitioned the unfamiliar fruit with strange care. 'She might well be right, you know. I -- when the Kazaana was torn, and I left them -- they came after me. Did I wish I could have just slipped away into the night, and be forgotten?'

Sango tucked the blanket around Shippou and Kirara, the first of whom was snuffling softly in his slumber. The cat demon flicked her ears, but curled back into the fox cub's sleepy warmth.

"A mon for your thoughts, houshi-sama," she whispered so abruptly that he started. It was not usual for her to interrupt his silence, or anyone's for that matter. Even after many months of fighting, travelling, living together, she was still secretive, and forgiving of that trait in her companions -- almost as if she saw taciturnity as everyone's right. "What were you thinking of that kept you from coming to eat?"

It is a strange thing, how easily concern for yourself can turn into fear for others...

He had been mulling over that. What was it about this rag-tag band of comrades that made them so significant? He was used to fending for only himself, to living on his terms, waging his own battles. Yet it was so easy to be altruistic for the sake of his companions. He enjoyed Shippou's carefree antics, and teasing Inuyasha despite that he had a healthy amount of respect for the young half-demon. Kagome, for her part, had immediately made him feel welcome when he had first crossed paths with them.

Then there was Sango, both fiery and gentle, yet clamped shut like a clam shell it seemed to him at times. Though, granted, she could also be amazingly straightforward in her actions, if not words...

"I wonder," he said at length, "if you indeed have that mon, Sango."

She made a face, then looked down at her hands, still stained with the fragrant pulp. "Will an orange do?" She sucked on her index finger to get the sticky substance off. Somehow, the motion captured his attention, pinned him into place.

"Certainly," Miroku answered somewhat breathlessly, all of a sudden knowing acutely that there was quite little space between them -- no more than an arm's length.

Sango held out a piece of the fruit, the fire lining her in fluttering golden hues as she turned towards him. "Here. It does taste better than the buns."

He made no move to accept the offered morsel, but instead quickly counted his options outside of seizing her and ravishing her there and then. No matter in how masculine a fashion she dressed and acted at times, he was very well aware of her as a woman, and that awareness was fast taking hold of him now.

Sango's eyes narrowed in scrutiny even as she leaned towards the monk, now wondering. His eyes held a sort of unreadable look, and she felt herself drawn to unravel the riddle, to coax open the seals woven around the man who seemed caught between backing away from her and --

His hands came up to grasp her shoulders; she could sense how they shuddered, as if in an effort to contain or suppress something. His eyes were very serious, very warm, and she had a momentary sensation of simply sinking into them as he stared at her. 'What on earth --'

"Sango..." There was something unique to the way he said her name, and his voice sent ripples of warmth through her, banishing the gnawing pain inside her that was a ubiquitous reminder of her aloneness.

But this was Miroku, for the mercy of Buddha! The glib-tongued, light-fingered, smooth, charming (where in the seven hells did that come from?), annoying man who could not keep his hands off of her for one blessed day...

"Y-yes?" She tensed slightly, subconsciously readying herself for the possibility that this abnormal behaviour was only a prelude to some mind-numbingly lecherous act he was planning. On the other hand, she did not move from her position, her hand poised halfway between them, for her limbs were suddenly shaky and unsteady, and yet drawn tight as the strings of a koto, shivering with subtle notes so soft that the scantest breeze could have drowned them.

Lavender and orange -- the fire shimmered across his face -- blended in the monk's eyes. "Sango... have you ever closely looked at someone, and simply felt obliged to..." He hesitated, as if he did not quite know what himself.

'To cop a feel of them?' simmered a tiny voice in the back of her head, but she was scarcely cognisant of it. Her legs tingled from the motionlessness, and thoughtlessly she grasped the nearest thing for support to shift position, her whimsical hand straying to Miroku's upper arm. 'But he hasn't done that yet... this is definitely bad...'

She sensed the sudden, restless flutter of muscles beneath her palm; his grip on her hardened.

'Or then... not so bad at all...' Her heart apparently thought she was in a fight, with the way it thrummed in her ears, her blood singing an unfamiliar tune.

Was this truly Sango, the battle-hardened, brisk taijiya; this warm, wide-eyed, alluring woman who was so near that a flick of his hands would have brought her into his arms? At that moment, the glimpses Miroku had caught of the woman hiding beneath the huntress who only hungered for vengeance for her people seemed to unify into a coherent whole. The guise was slipping, revealing an entirely different person.

"T-they must have been rather intensive thoughts," she said suddenly, her cheeks heating, "to cause you to -- to act like this."

"Like what, Sango?" he found his voice, with difficulty, for the words felt thick in his mouth, like not-quite-liquid honey. But he managed to get a dash of mischief into them, in spite of that his breath kept catching.

"Ah... I'm afraid another question won't do." Her eyes were pools of delightful caprice, winking and mesmerising. "Here -- I think you'll have to answer mine now." With that, she pressed the section of orange she had been handing him onto his lips. In a mixture of astonishment and inexplicable wanting, kindled by her cool fingers on his face, he allowed her to slip the piece of fruit into his mouth, slowly biting down on it. It tasted sweet, of sunlight and cane sugar and spring water and things he had no names for, but he barely noticed as he let his arms slide around her, all the while watching how the fire coloured her hazel eyes a deep purplish hue, fleetingly bottomless.

Miroku swallowed, his head light, and wrapped his fingers in Sango's hair, cupping her head into his left hand. "As you wish," he whispered against her mouth.

Sango was stuck between chucking the monk into tomorrow with the Hiraikotsu and shedding all rational thought in the face of his shining eyes that seemed to pierce all her fears and reservations, to bring out in the open something she had sealed away long ago. Her hand was on his upper arm, the other fisting lightly in his robes, her head tilted to the side. His breath tingled her furiously blushing cheek, almost a touch. Almost.

"I was thinking about bonds... forging them, making them... wondering what it is that draws me." Miroku spoke quietly, hoarsely. His hands folded together behind her back in a loose embrace. "To all of you... and..."

She had never heard him so open, had never seen him make himself this vulnerable. She was aware of his inner turmoil, of the burden of living with death every one of his days, but had she ever truly understood him? Could she? Could any of them? Her hand moved to his face, carefully raising his chin so that their eyes met.

"I know," she murmured. "You're much more afraid for the others than for yourself, right? When you didn't return, I -- I --"

"I know, Sango," Miroku said calmly, his fingers tugging at her hair to close the space between them. He kissed her then, with such unabashed gentleness that she thought her heart would stop right there as she gasped, open-mouthed, into his questioning touch. Cautiously, she began to respond, relaxing into his hold, allowing him to lead her for the time being. And yet, when they withdrew, she was breathless and quavering, her eyes large and locked upon him.

"I-I think we both know," she offered in a low voice, feeling the heat emanating from him through the heavy hempen robes, sensing the outlines of his limbs and chest as her palms rested, lax, against his shoulders. The fire hummed its own secret song there beside them, the hazy stars blinked and glimmered. Sango glanced at Shippou and Kirara, but they were both walking other ways, deep in dreams.

He felt elated, shaken, lost and yet more at home than ever since he had departed from the small temple his foster father tended. She shifted so that she was practically in his lap, his right arm hooked around her back to keep her upright. "This... this is good," she said. "Safe. Solid."

Miroku chuckled, half to himself. 'And how safe will you be with me? How safe shall we be, now that the distance has been breached?'

"Yes," he said out loud, gathering her close, trying to ignore the twinges of desire the supple shape of her against him sent spreading throughout him. She was like the aroma of fine sake, smooth and inviting and just slightly sharp, like welcome shade on a sun-bathed summer day, sheltering and serene. And she also made heat pool in him as her hands wandered about his neck and shoulders.

Sango, swathed in the warmth of Miroku and the low-burning campfire, quite unnecessary in the temperate summer night, was melting into the sheer peace and calm that had crept over her. She could still taste faint traces of the orange from his lips, and idly wondered whatever it might have been that made him kiss her, and more so, made her kiss him back instead of slapping him into insensibility. Maybe it was that this time, he had asked, he had queried, not just grabbed that which he wanted -- more or less literally.

She did not realise she was speaking half aloud until he leaned towards her, inquisitive. "Pardon me?"

"Aside from the fact that you're too polite," she said, smiling tentatively at him, "I was wondering what -- what made you kiss me?" There. It was not that hard to say.

To her surprise and delight, he actually flushed a little. "Um... the firelight in your eyes?"

Sango felt a chortle welling up from her throat. "Now that's just too cheesy for even you," she quipped. She took silent enjoyment in her newfound ability to baffle him. He had always been very talented at that with regard to her. Moving subtly, she noted that by flipping her shoulder just so, she could rather easily disturb his balance. "Though I did remark the same thing... about you." She shifted her weight, planting one hand on his chest, and twisted her upper body in his arms. Miroku, caught by surprise, went down into the lush grass, and Sango squirmed until she could cross her arms over his chest in a relaxed sign of victory.

"Got you," she breathed, attempting a breezy tone that became a halting one as the fact that she was lying atop of him began to settle in.

"Should I be ashamed now?" Miroku asked, both of his hands tangling themselves in the cascade of her black locks, loosened from the ribbon. "At least I was caught by the best of them, hm?"

"Mm," Sango agreed, dipping her head to place a shy, feathery kiss on the side of his mouth. She lent a quick thought to Kagome and Inuyasha, trusting them to be as warm and sheltered as the two of them were. The steady rippling of Miroku's chest beneath her was more rapid than a moment ago, and she found herself thinking what it might be like to feel his skin against her hands, to trace the contours of his body that she only had a tantalising hint of.

He captured her right in the middle of pulling teasingly away and held her close to kiss her again, deeper, more urgently. "You... taste of that spice," she whispered, catching the lingering aroma of cinnamon.

"So do you," he gasped. "Only better." Then her thoughts seemed to scatter like sparks from the fire as his mouth trailed down her cheek, found the sensitive skin beneath her chin. She tensed at the unfamiliar sensation, but it was all pleasure, a bursting warmth igniting deep inside her. Her fingers delved into his clothes, freeing the knot that held his outer robe in place.

Then they were both lost, onto paths winding through fear and need and longing into fulfilment and wonderment, under strange stars where all lovers sometimes stray. They were in peace, whether by the grace of the gods or by luck or happenstance, though it is sometimes said than when two come together in love, even the spirits avert eyes of malice from them for a while.

Sango ran her fingers timidly along the line of Miroku's collarbone, her eyes dark with emotion and an inkling of curiosity. She lay on her stomach next to him, her hands mapping his shoulders and bared chest, his arms about her. "I... I think I want this. Some time."

Tracing the arch of her side with a hand, he chuckled, looking up at her. "I did notice." Her yukata draped around her shoulders, loose and dishevelled, and her hair twined into itself, flowing down her back.

"Do you know why I never asked you?" he inquired, the usually formal patterns of his speech falling into more casual expressions.

"What?" She stared at him for a moment, not understanding. "Oh, that." Her eyes slanted slightly. "No, I don't. Why?"

"I hoped I would not have to," Miroku said softly, feeling strangely calm. He cast a glance at the stream, musing if the water would be cold enough to calm his heated body, but its demands felt secondary now. They had time. Perhaps. "I hoped... you would come to me... let me come to you."

"You have," Sango answered. "And I'll be damned if I let you leave me now." She grasped his right hand firmly, closed it between both of her own, their fingers enmeshing. He propped himself into a sitting position with his left arm and clutched her hand in silence. The fire had died down into batches of flickering ruby embers amidst black soot and cinders. Somewhere in the forest, the mild wind snatched at the ofuda he had scattered about the camp, rustled through the foliage, made Sango's hair stir around them both as she knelt by him and put her head on his shoulder. She tucked her yukata closed and thought that come what may, she had a safe haven now. She was not alone, even though she might seek solitude from time to time. But this was different from before; she had a sanctuary, and she was one as well. The ties bound both ways.

Reluctantly, they separated, needing a moment to come apart, to stand on their own, to let the knowledge of what had happened sink in. Sango went back to her blanket, finding that the two little sleepers had wound the quilt into a nest of hopeless tangles around them. Only Shippou's tail and a glimpse of Kirara's ears were visible. Her hand struck the discarded oranges, and she took the one she had peeled, holding it in indecision for a while.

Miroku shook water from his hair, belted on his black inner robe. Several steps away, Sango was sitting with something cradled in her hands. An profound sense of calm came over him -- there was no other way to describe the feeling. It was like finding a creek in an arid pine forest, like seeing the lights of an inn after dusk had fallen on the shelterless road. He knew not whom he should thank, but he was grateful.

Barefoot, he trod over the carpet of leaves and grass to her. "What did you find?"

Her head cocked, she looked up at him. Her eyes shone with laughter and affection. "An orange. Do you want some?"

"With pleasure," he said solemnly, his mouth a straight line, but the dancing, chuckling fire in his eyes betrayed fond amusement. He sat down and took her in his arms, oranges and all, finding in her as steadfast a solace as anyone walking under the floating bridge of heaven, from which the gods watch the comings and goings of the creation, could ever hope for.

Fin

=================================
-chan: a name suffix literally meaning cute or little; generally used to address children, female relatives or (close) friends, also a common endearment
houshi: a low-ranked Buddhist monk
Kazaana: "Air Rip"; the black hole Miroku carries in his hand, cut by the curse Naraku cast upon his family. If you didn't know this, allow me to personally hand you a Total Cluelessness Prize (paraphrasing Necchan here).
kitsune: fox; in Japanese folklore (and the IY series) also a fox spirit or demon
koto: the Japanese 6-, 12- or 13-stringed lute, a traditional instrument; curiously enough, this reminds me of the Finnish kantele...
mon: a small unit of money in medieval Japan
-sama: a very respectful name suffix; translates best to lady or lord
shakujou: the staff of a wandering Buddhist monk
shinamon rouru: Japlish for "cinnamon roll"; one of the more blatant English loanwords
taijiya: exterminator, hunter
yukata: in the Sengoku period, a simple, cotton or hempen kimono

Author's Orange End Note: Now was that cheesy or what... o.O I didn't know I had it in me. *fans self* If you think this is clichy, or awkward, forgive me with merciful hearts, but do not hesitate to criticise anything and everything! And to finish, you'll allow me to quote a master wordsmith, to apologise to anyone who found this story lacking, and also to remind you that we starving artists need our feedback... ^_^ Thus, from William Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, Robin Goodfellow speaking (thanks to Kaerra for sending me the correct verse!):

<< Inu Yasha, 005 >> Locked up in the past and present
Author:
Original Text: Go to http://www.anzwers.org/free/msfics/locked_up_in_the_past_and_the_present1.htm
Showing: Whole Story
__ __ ___ ___ ___ ___ __ __ _
Locked Up In the Past and the Present

Part 1 ~ The Second Time



Disclaimer: Yeah yeah, I don't own it, otherwise I'd be making money off of this and Miroku and Sango would be the main couple.

Author's note: Since I handwrite most of these pages before I type them up, one part's usually very short (1 page typed), therefore I'll sometimes combine a part or two 'cause I'm picky and I want each part to be a substancial length.

Vocabulary:
Yukata: a light kimono/robe like garment
Shakujou: a staff that monks/priests carry
Neko: cat
Youkai: demon



It was a dark night, the breezes floating past, giving a sort of atmosphere to the quiet, tranquil peace, until the silence was broken.

In the dark, the shady figures were obscured and hard to spot. At least two of them were dragging along a third person, gripping him or her by the arms as the person tried desperately to escape.

"I wish that this fuckin' bitch would stop struggling so damn hard!" A fighter with an obviously vulgar tongue spoke with strain in his voice after the woman that he and his companions were dragging along attempted to kick him and trip his ankles up.

"Well, you know what the boss said, she's a fighter an' we gotta be pretty careful wi' her," the other man on the opposite side of the young woman spoke. "She's pretty tough too. I mean, lookit her, we've been through maybe five miles dragging her along like this an' she's still conscious. Maybe we should jus' knock 'er out, save her the pain, you know?"

"The boss personally asked us to cause her as much pain as possible. Besides, who cares? She'll never escape, and she'll probably pass out in a few miles anyway."

`Damn you...' the young woman thought, barely holding on to consciousness as she was dragged through the night.


_______________


A few miles and several hours later, the woman and her captors arrived at a malevolent, gloomy looking fortress. The woman could barely keep her eyes open. "So this is his place..."

Farther and deeper down in the fortress, two young men were keeping guard over the top security cells. One, whose long silver hair gleamed in what little torch light there was, stood looking bored and grumpy, He stood against the wall, making odd growling noises every once in a while. The other, a man with the darkest black hair with slightly spiky bangs and a little ponytail at the back sat below the wall torch. He was leaning against the wall looking as though he was in deep thought, which changed to contentment as he sighed. The pale light flickering against his face created momentary shadows, showing the worn features of his face. It was then that the two men came in, still dragging along the less than half-conscious young girl. "What are you guys doing?" the one with the silver hair asked.

"The boss has himself a new prisoner." The man took the girl and unceremoniously threw her into the only empty cell, knocking her out completely this time. "He says that you gotta clean her an' her wounds up a bit, so she doesn't bleed to death or anythin'. She's a high-security prisoner, the highest one in fact, so we're moving everyone else out. If you two let her escape, you know what's coming to you." Nodding to the guards, the two men left.

"Ah, Miroku, sometimes I wonder why I didn't just opt for the job of an assassin or a capturer or a hunter, instead of being a stupid guard, you know?"

The other man spoke, a slight smirk on his face. "You know very well Inuyasha that even if we applied for another occupation here, Naraku would never allow it. He wants us to stay here, as punishment perhaps. Well, I suppose that we have to tend to the girl." Miroku got up and walked to the cell. The figure lying there didn't move, but Miroku knew, somehow, that she was alive. "Naraku keeps me here to tend to some of the prisoners that he wants in better condition so that he can torture them himself." The girl lay face down on the floor. `What a pitiful sight,' Miroku thought. `I wish I did not have to see people this way...' He bent down, his glance lingering just a moment on her shapely form. He felt along her arms and her legs for any signs of fractures or breaks. Nothing. He then took the woman in his hands and gently flipped her over. Her long raven black hair was left strewn across her face. He lifted up her sleeves and moved up the end of her dress, checking to see how bad the cuts and bruises were. It was very likely that she would have some of those marks forever. They were too numerous to mention. Lifting up the hem of her yukata at the stomach, he saw the huge purple bruises and the blood. He sighed. How could they do this to one so young, a girl his age? "Inuyasha, bring me the kit and moist towels, please." This was going to take a long time. "Sure." He came back moments later, handing the things to Miroku. "As long as you're not being a hentai..."

"What? I wasn't doing anything. Besides, she looks as though she's been through enough today." Taking the cloth, he carefully cleaned the blood off of the girl and had started to treat and bandage her wounds. He moved the locks of hair on her face to the side, uncovering her face. The eyes were closed, her face scratched up, beaten and dirty. Miroku froze. Even in that state, the girl was so recognizable...

"Inuyasha...it's Sango!"


~~~End of first half~~~


"What?" Inuyasha asked, bewildered.

"Don't you remember the things I had told you about? The last mission that Naraku had sent me on? Where I met her...?" Miroku just started blankly at the girl, with a mixture of shock, remorse, and anger on his face.

"Oh, right. Still, I can't keep up with all of the things you tell me, ya know. Are you sure that it's that girl?"

"What's there not to be sure about?" he spat out with a touch of bitterness. Composing himself again, he took one of the towels and started to clean her face, rubbing her forehead with it, trying to wake her up out of her unconsciousness.

"Uhhn..." The girl moaned, stirring, trying to open her eyes. Miroku flinched, looking down at her. "Damn...where am I..." Weak as she was, she tried to get up, but only shook and collapsed. Miroku caught her.

"Foolish girl, if you try to get up you will make your wounds worse! Let me bandage them first." Sango just groaned a little more, letting her eyes close again. She hadn't seen much, just a blur of dark objects. She felt the cold stone under her, then a warm hand gently wrapping something around one of her aching arms. `What happened?' she thought. `Oh, right. Those stupid men came and dragged me here...' She waited patiently, lying there while Miroku cared for her injuries. Opening her eyes and finally taking full notice of her surroundings, she somehow wasn't surprised to find herself in a dungeon cell.

After a few more minutes, Miroku straightened himself up. "There. It's all done." Sango turned and raised her head slightly to look at him. "You... Miro...ku...? How...?"

`Is that a look of fear on her face? Or is it anger or astonishment?' Miroku thought. `Surely...well perhaps, though I hoped that she had forgotten...' He lifted her gently and placed her on the solitary cot in the cell. Taking what he had brought into the cell with him, he turned and slid the iron-bar door back into its place, locking the door. "Sango...why?" Sitting back in his place, he remembered all too well...


_______________


Traversing the forest, Miroku looked up to the sky. He only had a few more hours until he would have to stop for the night. Naraku's voice echoed in his head. "Miroku...I want you to go out to the village of Sen-dosu, where she - " An image flashed through Miroku's mind suddenly - " - is. There is already a spy in the village, taking note of her every move, though I fear that he has complicated matters and has blown his cover. Still, it may be all for the best, as they will have no suspicion of you being a spy, since they will probably discover him and never suspect that there is another. At any rate, they now distrust anyone new that goes to the village. Form a bond with this woman. She may be my link to finding the Shikon no Tama. You do understand the importance of this mission, right?" His dark eyes glimmered malevolently. Miroku nodded. "Your supplies are in the other room. Your cover is a monk who's been sent to the village for performing an exorcism. If there is anything to do of the sort, well and good. If not, say that you were mistaken and ask if you can stay at the village, at least for a little while. I'm sure that you can handle it. It's the least suspicious reason for visiting the village that we can use." He snickered evilly. "Well, what are you waiting for, go!"

How cruel Naraku was, to be able to take complete disregard of who Miroku was and to use him for the mission in such a way! He was a monk before, but now... He looked down at his black and purple robes and the shakujou, or staff, that he carried. `How did I ever get myself into this mess?' Miroku thought despairingly. First his family, now himself...but it was no time for brooding. He set up camp for the night. By late morning, he had finally reached the village. He saw the same woman that Naraku had passed in a vision to him standing at the front entrance to the village, as though she was waiting for something or someone. A little neko-youkai, cream colored with black stripes, black-tipped paws and tail, and red eyes, perched on her shoulder, mewing. The girl was unmistakable, with her long dark hair settling around her shoulders, wearing a simple yukata and dress while having the deepest brown eyes... "Hello. I believe that I was sent here to perform an exorcism..."

"Yes, though I'm not sure if we expected anyone yet in such a short while...but we do need a bit of help, if you could at all possibly look into the situation for us." She smiled at Miroku. "What is your name, Houshi-sama?"

He didn't know why, but his voice caught in his throat for a moment. "I...I am Miroku."

The girl's eyes shone. "I am Sango, the youkai exterminator.

~CHAPTER 2~

Locked up in the past and present

Chapter 2 - Something About You

Disclaimer: Still don't own it. Inuyasha, that is.

Vocabulary:
Houshi: a low level Buddhist monk
Kazaana: wind tunnel
Katana: sword

Sango had taken Miroku around the village, finally stopping at a small shrine. "Here's the problem." Miroku took care of it within minutes. It was just a small disturbance, nothing more. Of course, the leader of the village didn't see it that way. "At least stay with us for the night, be rested for the next day." Perfect for Miroku's plan, though he acted like it was too much generosity. And even so, though he had to, he didn't mind staying with Sango, the leader's daughter, either... He didn't know what it was, though she was a beautiful girl...but that couldn't be it...

After dinner, he asked Sango about the rumors that he had been hearing, something about a visitor causing trouble. She said that there were rumors saying that someone in the village was a spy for someone looking for the Shikon no Tama - the Jewel of Four Souls. It was her village's duty to guard it. They were all incredibly up tight right now, wondering who it could be. "I'm going to turn in now, would you like me to show you to your room?" Miroku accepted. "And don't even think about anything with that wandering hand of yours." He had already tried to cop a feel on her earlier in the day. 'A lecherous monk! Talk about extreme!' Still, she smiled to herself. There was something about him, but at the same time...something not quite right...

By morning's first light, Naraku's prediction had come true. The spy sent by Naraku had been uncovered, but just before the villagers could kill him, he escaped, running from the village. A small tracking band had been sent to follow the spy and hopefully capture him. "It's amazing what lengths people will take to attain power," Sango spoke to Miroku after the hubbub had subsided. They were sitting in a small clearing by the village.

"As long as there's power, people will thirst for it. So, it may not be so extreme to them. Sometimes, great power can be a curse." He looked down at his right hand as he spoke, his hands going over the rosary beads wound around his palm.

"Not to disturb you, Houshi-sama, but...I was wondering why your right hand is wrapped up so..."

"My grandpa had a curse placed on him, which would be passed on to every male born in the family after. Of course, the luck is that only males have been born so far...my father suffered from the same curse, and now I do. I have a kazaana in my right hand, a wind tunnel, if you will. It has the power to suck up everything in its path, and soon when I am older the wind tunnel will suck me up as well...my father and my grandfather were both killed by being sucked up into their wind tunnels. My grandpa received the curse because..." He fidgeted a little. "Well, he was lecherous. My father somehow never was like that, or maybe it was because I was young and my mother was already dead that he never had such behaviors, at least when I was there. It and the curse bestowed upon him by a...certain man...was eventually passed down to me..." Sango glanced at him again. He was looking down to the ground, but she couldn't read his expression. Was it regret or shame? She sighed, shaking that thought away. "Is that what the beads are for?"

"Yes...of course." He turned away, staring out into space. Sango felt awkward. "I'm sorry for bringing it up..."

"No. It's no problem. We should get going if we want dinner." He looked up and smiled at Sango, then gazed off into the distance. She studied his face for a while longer, until he snapped out of his trance. "Let's go."


_______________


Over time, Miroku got to know Sango very well. They often sat together, discussing things in life, sometimes even philosophies. He knew everything about her, about her family, the village leader who was her father, her younger brother Kohaku to whom she was devoted, her village, even her demon exterminating adventures. Sometimes when she left on them he would accompany her, or just be a little distance away and observe her and the group, always watching. Even though it wasn't required, he told her things about himself, things he had never bothered to mention before, sometimes not even to Inuyasha, his partner back at the fortress. He was probably was fuming about the fact that Miroku had the chance to go out on a mission and he didn't...

But Sango still never spoke a word about the Shikon no Tama. And it was starting to drive Miroku mad. He did not want to linger in the village any longer. He didn't know why, for it was nice enough there... especially everything about Sango... Was he...did he have feelings for her?

No. Of course not. It was only a mission. Naraku wanted him to bond with Sango, but not that way! Then again, who gives a damn what Naraku thought? Miroku waited with a sense of dread for that message from Naraku, the one that said that he had to leave the village... He suddenly felt something tapping on his shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie. "Houshi-sama, is something the matter?" Sango sat down next to him. "You've been quiet lately." 'Who knew what ran through his mind,' Sango thought. 'He is amazing when it comes to masking his emotions and putting on a false face and he's usually unreadable, but...sometimes when he's brooding you can tell things... Ha, look at me. I'm talking like I know him and he's only been here a few weeks.' She sighed and looked at him. 'What is this that I'm feeling right now? It's so weird...like what I feel about Miroku...' She stopped. 'No, I can't get attached to a stranger who will probably leave any day now... I wish I knew what his intentions were. He's stayed here so long...'

Both of them were thinking the same thing. 'I can't possibly let myself get carried away...'


~~~End of first half~~~


Sango lay there on the hard cot, her mind going through a whirl of thoughts. Ever since last night, her head just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts and memories. Memories of happier times, with people like... 'Oh, no,' she thought. 'Not this again. Why must I always be reminded of him?' She turned her face to the iron-bar door to look at the guard sitting below the flickering torch. 'Why, Miroku? Why must I be here with you now, after what you had done...?'


_______________


"Sango, where are you going?" She stopped at the door, looking back at him.

"Another youkai is around here somewhere. We have to go and defeat it." She turned back to the door.

"It would be an honor for me to come with you."

"No, I...I cannot allow that. It's too dangerous for a monk like yourself!"

'Then you greatly underestimate me,' Miroku thought with a little sneer. "No, I can take care of myself, thank you. I can fight, you know."

"I don't want your safety compromised because of myself, you know!"

Miroku got up, following her. "When you said 'we', I dearly hope that you include me in it as well."

Sango turned away, Kirara the little neko-youkai leaping onto her shoulder. "Do as you wish."

Following the exterminator band into the forest and to a rocky plateau area, Miroku wondered what kind of demon it would be. 'Well, it's not like I never had asked to come along before... it must be truly powerful for her to want me to stay behind...'

He had no idea.

"I sense it." Sango readied her hiraikotsu, her boomerang, in case the demon popped out any second. All that she could remember next...was a blur. A creature leapt out of nowhere right in front of them, seizing the closest of the exterminators that it could reach and throwing them with its long, powerful limbs. "Hiraikotsu!" Throwing the deadly weapon, the creature just smiled a fanged smile sinisterly and let the boomerang circle around itself, catching it with its numerous arms and throwing it to the side. Sango looked around her frantically. All of the people she could see that had come with her were knocked unconscious to the ground, not moving. She gasped when the creature's arms came toward her, but could do nothing about it, her Hiraikotsu out of her reach.

"Watch out!" In an instant, Miroku threw his shakujou at the creature's arms. It came at it like a knife slicing through cheese. The creature snarled as its foremost limbs were detached from its body. The shakujou landed point first by Sango, the rings still quivering. Sango shook. "Thank you..."

"Don't mention it," Miroku said gruffly. "Stay focused!" He had plucked his staff out from the ground and was now blocking the creature's swings at him. Sango pulled out her katana, her sword. She was about to swing at the creature when Miroku plunged his staff into the creature's head. "That should take care of it," he said, turning away towards her, yet not noticing...

"Houshi-sama! Behind you!" Sango started to run towards him, noticing the creature's final death twitch.

He looked at her, puzzled. "Wha-" He whirled around, but too late. He gasped as the air was crushed out of him by the creature's arm, which swung at Miroku one last time before shuddering and sinking to the ground, never to rise again. Miroku cried out, the impact of the blow sending him skidding across the hard plateau. "Miroku!" Sango cried, sheathing her katana and rushing to his side. She watched him shake trying to get up, using his shakujou for support.

"Don't worry, I'm fine..." But he wasn't fooling anybody, and he collapsed into Sango's arms. She gasped when she saw the blood seeping through his robes. "Kirara!" Her faithful little neko-youkai pet, cream-colored with black stripes and red eyes, came to her, cocking her head to one side. "Kirara, help me take Miroku back to the village." Kirara made that affirmative whistling-mewing sound, then transformed into a much larger youkai. Sango managed to get Miroku on Kirara's back. She looked around at the battlefield littered with the unconscious forms of the other exterminators. A few of them were stirring. "You can take care of the others while I go back to the village and get help, right?" The man she was talking to nodded. Without a moment's hesitation, she quickly got onto Kirara's back, holding onto Miroku's limp form as Kirara growled softly and leapt into the air towards the village. "Miroku, just stay alive...or it'll be all my fault..."

~ CHAPTER 3 ~

Locked Up in the Past and the Present

Part 3 ~ Voices

Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of Inuyasha whatsoever.

Vocabulary:
Kesa: cloth worn around robes, ex. Miroku's purple-blue kesa
Daijoubu ka: are you alright? ((Kage_Madoushi's comment: The correct term for are you alright in japanese is Daijokan))

After sending people to help the exterminators back at the plateau, Sango had rushed Miroku back to his room at her house. She pulled at the knot of the purple-blue kesa wrapped around him, and then gingerly opened up the front of his robes, taking in the severity of the wound. Cleaning off the blood and wrapping the bandages around his chest, she sat back to admire her work. Instead of the ragged, tossing, half asleep, half unconscious state that he was in while on Kirara's back, he was now sleeping quite peacefully on a futon, leaning against the wall so Sango could tend to his injuries. Her gaze then went past the wound and to Miroku. `Wow, I didn't know that he was so...muscular...for a monk,' she thought, glancing at his well-built form. `Okay, I need to shut up...' Sighing, she slid the sleeping figure back into the futon, gathering up his outer robes to wash the dried blood off of them. She bit her lip at the thought of taking off his white inner robes to wash them. `No, that's not a good idea,' she thought. `I'll just wait for him to wake up.'


_______________


Miroku stirred, slowly awakening. Finding that he had been tucked into a futon in his room at the village and that his outer robes were gone, he tried to sit up and remember how he had gotten where he was. He winced when he felt the slight pain at his chest as he tried rising from the futon. Looking down, he saw the section of his white robes where the blood had seeped through, triggering his memory to return. He remembered Sango's warning before the creature's arm hit him in the chest with great force...but that was really all that he could recollect. Frowning, he pondered about what had happened and how he got to the village when Sango entered.

She was not in the greatest of moods. Washing Miroku's robes in the stream left her with time to think - or rather puzzle - about him. `Why is it that I feel so weird when I'm around him? It's like I just want to be content by being with him forever... Could it be... No! Of course not,' she thought quickly, her thoughts wandering too far. `Besides, he's a stranger, a monk with unusual abilities... what kind of monk prefers fighting physically hand-to-hand without using spiritual abilities and ofudas? Besides, he might leave any day now, and he's a lecher, and - ' she stopped there, remembering that as time had gone on the more that his past behavior seemed to fade away. She tried racking her brain for another excuse so that she shouldn't like him. `Arrgh...I can't think about what's not good about him! Right now, I can only think of his qualities...' she mused over how good-looking, smart, and strong he was, among other things. Of course, after thinking that, she had an all-out mental "war" with herself while finishing up washing Miroku's robes, and decided to go check on him, entering with a grumpy disposition.

"Hello Sango." The pleasant sound of his voice nearly made her jump.

"Oh, Houshi-sama! You're awake! How's your wound?"

"My chest aches a little, but I'm fine, thanks to you I suppose." She blushed, turning away and picking up a small pile of white clothing. "Miroku, I need to wash the blood off of what you're wearing right now, so could you, uh, change into this?"

His smile faded a little. "I never meant to be a burden on you."

"Who said that you were? Besides, you did pretty much save my life, so..."

"...You're taking care of me to repay me? But that's unnecessary. After all, did you expect me to sit there and let you die? Besides, I thought that you meant something else besides repaying me." He flashed that `innocent' smile at Sango again.

She reddened slightly once again. "Don't play games with me, Houshi-sama!"

"I'm not," he said, chuckling a little in a deep voice. "Though if you want me to..."

Sango, blushing furiously, chucked the clothes at him. "Just hurry up!" She rushed out of the room.

"Hmmm... I wonder..." Miroku thought as he changed into the clean robes. "Maybe...no. I can't let her get any closer; it'll destroy us both."


_______________


The next few days were some of the happiest in Miroku's life, or at least since he stayed at Naraku's place. Being away from the fortress, breathing in the fresh air while living in a village situated on a mountain side while located near glades, trees, lakes, and streams was pleasing enough. Eating the delicious food that was much better than the less than gourmet stuff at the fortress helped, too. But the best thing for him was that he finally had good company. Sure, some of the guys back at the fortress were nice and all, but he like the village leader, who was hospitable enough to let Miroku stay at his house. He like the village leader's son, Kohaku, Sango's younger brother, who had an adorable aura of shyness about him and a certain way of making people light up with a smile. Kohaku talked to him like Miroku was his elder brother. He liked Kirara, the little neko-youkai who had finally gotten used to him and would sometimes curl up besides his feet before leaving to join her owner. Speaking of which...

He had finally learned how to be happy while being with someone special, and Sango was definitely no exception. She spent much of her time with him, at first to tend to his injuries, but when he was much less sore a few days later and healing well, that was no longer an excuse to stay with him.

"Tell me again why you're hanging around me?" Miroku asked as he and Sango made their way to one of their favorite glades, moving through the tress on the way.

A faint blush crept to her cheeks. "I don't know why, exactly..."

He smiled. "I see." They had reached a small pond, glistening in the sunlight.

"Hey, it's not like that!" she cried, giving him a playful shove. Miroku lost his balance as the bottom corner of Sango's Hiraikotsu that she had slung over her back crashed into his legs, sending him straight into the water and breaking the surface of the glimmering pond. "Daijoubu ka?" Sango asked in concern as she dropped Hiraikotsu and her katana, leaving them lying on the grass and rushing to the edge of the pond. Miroku rose out of the water, shaking his head like a wet dog. "I'm fine, but I don't know if you're going to be!" With one quick move, he jerked Sango's legs out from under her and pulled her into the water. She popped up out of the water, spluttering. "What was that for?"

Miroku grinned. "Well, you were so eager to get me soaked..." She tried glaring at him, but failed and ended up laughing. He was laughing too, and within seconds they were splashing each other in a water fight and playing around like children. 'Everything's going fine right now,' Miroku thought happily.

Then the message, the one that he had been dreading for quite some time, came. `Miroku...'

He could hardly hear anything over the cacaphony of noise made by the splashing of water.

`Miroku.'

He stopped splashing Sango. `Am I imagining a voice?'

`No, you're not. It is time to leave.'

`But... I don't want to!' Miroku protested.

`Now I know how much you like this village, but you should leave if you care for the people there, especially that girl...'

He inwardly sighed. `When must I leave?' There was no doubt whose voice that was now.

`Now is quite preferable. Leave as soon as you can.' Miroku was shaken out of his reverie by someone pulling on his wet sleeve. "Houshi-sama?" Sango looked at him with concern. "Are you okay? It looked like you were in a trance or something."

"No, I'm fine." He pulled himself out of the pond. "I have to go."

`After all, Naraku commanded me to.'

~CHAPTER 4~

Part 4 ~ The Founding Festival


Disclaimer: Can't we just forget these things? Well...you know the drill. Don't own Inuyasha.

Vocabulary:
Nani: what?
Arigato: thank you
Gomen: sorry
Kami(-sama): god



"Go? Go where?" Sango echoed.

"I have to leave your village."

"Right now?" She hoisted herself out of the water, going to his side. He nodded. "No, Houshi-sama, you can't!"

He turned away wordlessly, wringing the water out of his robes. She grabbed him by the shoulder. "Don't you care about our village and the people?"

"It's not by choice that I have to go," he said shortly, trying to walk away. Sango grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Just stay here, at least for one more day. It won't make a difference whether you stay a little longer!"

"If it doesn't make a difference, leaving on time won't matter either. And if it doesn't make a difference like you say, then why do you want me to stay?" Miroku questioned.

"I didn't mean that you don't make a difference! It's just...you fit in this village really well, and...you wouldn't be alone anymore..."

"Nani? I don't understand..." Miroku said, bewildered. `What does she mean? Could it be that she really cares? All the more reason for me to leave as quickly as possible.' "I cannot allow people to get attached to me."

"Why, are you afraid of getting close to people?" Sango sneered.

"It's for their own safety! Besides, you would have no idea!" he nearly shouted, losing his composure.

Her face softened. "You have no idea, do you?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "About what?"

Sango shrugged it off. "Is it because of your kazaana? Or have you had bad relations with people before?" she pressed.

"If it comes to you, then yes, it's my kazaana." Sango flushed red though not sure of his meaning after hearing that, but Miroku continued on. "Still, that's not the only reason. I have certain...associations, and it wouldn't be healthy for anyone to know them." Sango was lost in gazing at his face for a moment. With his brows furrowed more than usual, it looked like he was very deep in thought. His strangely-tinted eyes were clouded, thinking about things that he would rather have left alone and in the past, never wished to be remembered. She kept watching his eyes. She had never noticed the deep violet and blue in them before. "Somehow I don't think that what you say is the complete truth."

Miroku looked up sharply. "I don't know what you mean..."

"You must truly not like, trust, or want to be attached to people anymore, to want to leave so badly."

"Don't try to figure me out that way," he said fiercely.

"That means that I can still try to figure you out some other way, right?" she retorted lightly.

Once again, Miroku tried to leave. "Do as you wish." He tried to step forward, but felt extra weight pulling him back. Sango had taken a hold of his arm again. "Now what do you want!?" Too late he noticed the pain in Sango's eyes. `I guess I let my frustrations get the best of me again,' he thought ruefully. "Sango, I'm sorry, I - "

"No, don't be." She tried to smile. "I'm just saying to give people a chance. Sooner or later you're going to want some company or something and - "

"Loneliness has been my one true companion," he muttered. `Besides pain...'

Sango took a deep breath. "Miroku..."

`Did she...did she just say my name out loud?' he thought, amazed.

`Good, I've got his attention now,' Sango thought. "Just leave it, will you? You don't have to live that way forever. Just try. Even if you've had bad experiences - "

"I told you, I've been commanded to leave."

"A little bit more time here won't make a difference - " she faltered, shivering. Miroku suddenly remembered that they were both still in their wet things. He walked behind Sango and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a sitting position. Eyes widening in disbelief, her voice came out just above a whisper. "Houshi-sama...?"

"You looked cold, and it was my fault that you got soaking wet anyway..."

`What in the seven hells is he thinking? Ah, whatever...' She looked back up at him before snuggling into his arms somewhat reluctantly. "...Arigato, Houshi-sama."

He let out a sigh before relaxing and leaning against a tree, with Sango in his arms and the sunlight shining from overhead.


_______________


Sango stirred gently, her eyes slowly opening. `Did I fall asleep?' She looked to the sky and the sun, which now had the dimmer glow of a late afternoon. "Maybe I should get back to the village..." She tried sitting up, but felt the extra weight of a pair of arms preventing her from rising. "Nani...?" Turning her had slightly and looking up, she saw the face of Miroku, his eyes closed in sleep. `He does look kind of cute like that...just like a little boy,' she mused while trying to sit up in Miroku's grasp. `I did not just think that.' She edged her face closer to Miroku's ear, whispering, "Houshi-sama..." She slid sideways so she could see his face. "Hey, Houshi-sama, wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open slightly. "Uhhn...?" He opened his eyes all of the way. Seeing Sango's face in such close proximity startled him somewhat. "Sango?"

"Oh, uh, gomen, I was trying to wake you up." `Still, he does look like an adorable young boy at times...' She slowly pried Miroku's arms off of her. "Come on, they might be starting dinner already."

"Just dinner? Isn't tonight some sort of..."

"Oh, the festival to commemorate the founding of our village? I had completely forgotten about that! Come on, we've got to go!" She jumped up and dragged Miroku back along with her.


_______________


Approaching the village, they could see the bright lights and colors in the distance, hearing the chatter and music only heard at a huge celebration. "Look, Houshi-sama, the feast's about to begin!" Many long tables were arranged together to form one surface in the village square, with numerous dishes of food specially prepared for this event spread out along the length of the one large table. People were already sitting down, waiting for the village leader to emerge. Sango sat herself and Miroku down across from Kohaku at the head of the table. "Now what?" Miroku asked, setting his shakujou by his chair.

"Well, we wait for my father to come out. He makes some sort of speech, which is basically the same every year, then we eat as much as we want," Kohaku replied.

"We also have a lot of activities after the feast." Sango dropped her voice, edging closer to Miroku so he could hear. "You're not planning to leave during the festival, right?"

"No, I'll leave tomorrow. Should I tell your father of my departure?"

"That would be a courteous thing to do, wouldn't it?" she replied dryly.

Miroku sighed. "Sango, you know that I don't want to leave..."

"Who commanded you to leave anyway? When did they contact you and how? And why are you being so persistent about it?" Just then, right when Miroku opened his mouth to respond, the sound of clapping was heard. The village leader had come. `Saved by the leader,' Miroku thought, raising his hands in appreciative applause. The leader waited patiently for the clapping to subside, approaching the head of the table and standing there. "Hello, and welcome to our annual found festival, which marks the day the this village was inhabited. It all started thirty years ago, when..."

`Kami, he starts the speech nearly the exact same way every year,' Sango thought.

"I still remember the story of the warriors and their families who founded this village..."

`He should try sprucing it up every few years or so,' she complained.

"...Searching forever, until they reached a place where there were fierce youkai..."

`Mmmn...this is so tiring,' she yawned. `Maybe I should've taken a longer nap...' She felt her eyelids droop, and couldn't stop it. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, but not because she was awake.

"They couldn't run, so they had to fight and defend their families..."

Many images passed through her mind. `Kami-sama! Is this the village?'

"The battle raged on for days, but they finally pulled through..."

`Is this a vision?' She could see...a bunch of men, with dark faces...the village in flames, fire licking the roofs of the houses, engulfing them in the inferno...bodies hitting the ground...all in a crimson mist...

"Resting there after the fight, they decided to stay there...and...that was how the village came to be..."

"Sango?" She snapped back to reality; Miroku was shaking her by the shoulder. "Daijoubu? You looked pretty spaced out."

"It's nothing, I'm fine..." She glanced around, hearing the sound of applause and seeing people rise from their seats to reach the banquet. "What's going on?"

"Well, you father's speech ended. It was quite informative, actually. Now everyone's starting to eat."

`I wonder if what I saw was a premonition...no, of course not.' Sango shook her head. `Nothing like that could ever happen to the village...ever.'

"Hello, earth to Sango?" Miroku started shaking his shakujou in her face. Blinking, her fighting reflex took over and in a moment she held the top end of the staff at his neck. "Huh?"

Bewildered, he took his staff back. "Want to grab something to eat?"

~ CHAPTER 5~

Part 5 ~ A Time To Leave


Disclaimer: I don't own it. Never will. And if you don't know what "it" is...oh god.

Vocabulary:
Kuso: shit (could translate to damn)
Iie: no
Arigato gozaimasu: thank you

`If only things could be like this forever,' Sango thought, curled up in Miroku's arms.

After the feasting, there came the normal things found at a festival, like games, storytelling, and dancing. She did not know how, but somehow or another she had ended up swept off of her feet and had started to dance with Miroku. The music changed to a fast, lively beat. Other dancers and couples moved slightly out of the way as Miroku and Sango danced to the middle of the area. Twirling around the dance floor, Miroku spun Sango around. She broke out of her spin as the music ended with a final loud note. Applause rang out from the villagers around them for all of the dancers, though Sango could have sworn that quite a bit of it was directed towards her and Miroku. "Shall we have another dance?" Miroku asked with a mischievous grin.

Sango matched his smile. "Sure, why not?"


_______________


Strolling past the closing stalls showing off fineries like weapons, armor, silks, clothing, and pottery, Miroku and Sango made light conversation on their way back to Sango's home. They were retiring early from the celebrations. "These weapons and armor look very nice," Miroku commented as they passed the final stalls.

"Yes, they should be. We exterminate so many youkai, and as part of the completion of the extermination job we'll take the parts of the carcasses that may be of any use, like shell, bones, teeth, and other things depending on the youkai. Our village forgers, blacksmiths, and armorers can use those materials along with other things to make the bast equipment. In fact," she added, "Our exterminator band's equipment is the best ever made in the village and comprises of only the finest supplies."

"Surely there's not enough business in this village to sustain such a market?"

"Hai. When business becomes slow, or at periodic times in the year for that matter, we'll send some merchants that can defend themselves well enough ladened with many things to sell to areas around here. That way, we can get the supplies and money that we can't get here by trading and selling. We'll also get them to buy some other things that the village needs." They had reached the house and stepped inside. "So anyway, who commanded you to leave and when?" Sango inquired, remembering Miroku's words from earlier in the day.

He paused for a moment. "Uh...one of my...associations."

`He's not going to tell me anything else,' Sango saw by the look of finality on his face. `Back at the lake, when he spaced out for a few moments, could that have been when he was told to leave? I didn't hear a thing, but he must have gotten the message. He looked so determined to leave right then and there. Why are you hiding so many things from me, Miroku?'

"I thought that I had already gone over that with you. To keep you safe," Miroku said tiredly.

"N-nani?" `How in the seven hells did he know what I was thinking?'

"It was written all over your face; your thoughts and your feelings," he explained.

`Kuso! Why does that damned houshi have to be so perceptive?' "Yeah, well, you never explain more than that. Ever. You can't just always keep secrets away from me!"

"And you're not?" he wryly answered.

"Nani?" `Kami, that's the second time he's startled me like that! How could he know? Could he be thinking about the Shikon no Tama? No, of course not. How could he have known such a thing? He probably just thought that it's natural for everyone to have secrets. That's it. Of course that's it.' "Why would you think that?"

"Because," he narrowed his eyes. "Everyone has secrets." Sango sighed inwardly. "But - " Her breath caught in her throat again - "Some people are more likely to have secrets of a larger magnitude than others, and you seem like one of those people." `She looks a bit more pale,' Miroku noticed. `Am I really getting to her now? Maybe I should drop the subject before she gets suspicious and I blow my cover. But still...could she possibly be thinking about - '

"Some secrets aren't meant to be told," she said resolutely.

"Sometimes we're just not ready to tell our deepest secrets."

"Sometimes the person only thinks that he's not ready - "

"Tell you what. You keep your secrets and I keep mine, okay?"

`What in the hell is he trying to hide from me?' Sango wondered. "Why won't you ever tell me as much about yourself when I tell you things about me?"

"Why in the heck do I have to tell you anything?" he asked in a half shout. "Why does it matter so much to you? Can't you just leave it alone?"

"Well, you're a stranger!" she protested. "I want to know more about you! I would never give my heart to someone I don't know anything about..." She stopped. `Kami, did I just say what I thought I did?'

Miroku inwardly gaped at her. `So that's really how she felt all along, though I hoped that she didn't...kami, what do I do?' He averted his head. "Then don't."

"...Eh...excuse me?" she stuttered.

"Then don't give your heart to a wandering soul like me." `It would be in your best interests...'

"But I can't!" `Arrgh...I can't even control my own damn mouth anymore...' "I mean, I..." Once her tongue slipped, it was like a dam breaking. She broke down.

He sat down next to her, held her in his arms, and gently stroked her head. "Shh. Shhh," he whispered, trying to calm her. She was shaking, her body wracking with dry sobs. "Calm down and stay in peace..." They stayed that way for a while, until her movements gradually ceased and she lay there, her breathing slow and even. "Right. Okay, I should leave now; she's already kept me here too long...it'll get out of hand..." Miroku muttered. However, no matter what Miroku tried, he could not pry the sleeping girl off of him. Sango mumbled something under her breath about staying while snuggling further into his warmth.

"You certainly cling onto what you want, eh, Sango?" Despite his frustrations, he smiled ruefully. `Arrgh...I really can't get her off, and she's sleeping so soundly...besides, she'd never let me leave if she was awake,' he thought disgruntledly. `Might as well go to sleep...though I'll be in deep shit tomorrow...'

`Yes, things should stay like this forever,' Sango thought hours later when the sun's first rays eased out with the dawning of another day.


_______________


Miroku was not resting as peacefully. He didn't toss and turn greatly in his sleep, but his vivid nightmare alarmed him to no end. Images passed through his mind of things that had occurred before, of his father being sucked up by his kazaana, of his fatal encounter with Naraku, of meeting Inuyasha who was stuck in the same predictament as him, of meeting Sango for the first time... Then a picture of Naraku, saying in his deep, sinister voice, "Leave now...or else..." came into his mind. Suddenly, everything faded away, only to be replaced by one last thing that chilled his blood to no end.

He was garbed in his monk attire, holding his shakujou in a battle stance. "What the...?" Sango was standing a few yards away in her taijiya outfit, gripping her Hiraikotsu and readying herself to throw it. "It ends now, Houshi-sama!" he heard her yell before she stretched back and released the giant boomerang at him. He met the attack head on with his shakujou, and then...

He woke up in a cold sweat, jerking back to reality the person he was holding. However, he noticed nothing. `What in the hell was that?'

"Houshi-sama, what's wrong?" Sango asked, having felt him tense up suddenly against her.

"Iie, it's nothing..." he started, tryingn to sort out his thoughts. He gently pushed Sango away from him, took up his staff, got to his feet, and started to leave the room. "I have to leave now...get some air and go..." he mumbled.

"Nani?" `How could I have forgotten that he meant to depart from here today?' She eyed the empty space on the floor where her father had left supplies for Miroku after hearing of his intention to leave to village the next day. "You're leaving now...for good?"

"Arigato gozaimasu, Sango, for everything. We'll meet again someday," he uttered over his shoulder before setting off on his return journey. Sango crept outside and watched his rapidly moving figure before he disappeared completely, a miniscule speck again the rising sun.

Running back inside and throwing herself onto her futon, she couldn't keep herself from crying just a little, her head buried in her arms.


_______________


Miroku slowed his severely fast pace once the sun had almost completely risen. He stopped and sat against a tree, breathing heavily. `I can't believe that it's done with and that I've left...I just hope that she's not broken up over my leaving or anything...' He turned to watch the sun; its rays cast against the trees creating shadows slowly dispelled be more and more beams of light as the sky grew brighter. He sighed. `Mushin-sama always said that either the kazaana or women would be my downfall. He was right on both counts.' Miroku kicked at the earth.

`Damn it all,' he thought, quickly getting up and setting off on the dusty path once more.


_______________


At the same time of day, Sango sat in the glade by the pond leaning against a boulder, Kirara lazing about in the flowers. `No matter how hard I try I just can't seem to forget him or even get his damned face out of my head...what the hell is wrong with me?' she wondered, skimming stones across the pond's surface glimmering with the light of the sun. `Besides, it's not like I'll ever see him again, even though he promised...I think...' She threw the next rock, watching the splash and then the ripples in the water gradually ebb into calmness. Kirara, who had been near the pond when Sango threw the last rock was slightly splashed by the water. She mewed disgruntledly and gambolled over to her mistress. Sango smiled and stroked Kirara's damp fur. "Ah well, what do you think, Kirara?" Looking up at Sango, she cocked her head to the side and mewed with that little whistling sound. `Oh great, now I'm crying again.' She quickly moved her arm across her face. `Men are nothing to cry about...especially if it'll all turn out fine... Yes, as long as I just keep thinking that...' Despite the dampness she felt on her face she smiled and laid down on her back against the soft grass, viewing the scenery around her. `Since the festival lasted all night everyone in the village'll be sleeping still, so I'll just relax here for now...' she thought calmly, planning to join in the bustle of the village later in the day.

But before that...there was something that she wished to attend to.

~ CHAPER 6 (Kage_Madoushi: Why don't the authors tell you where the chapters seperate? I am tired of doing these.... 0__o) ~

Part 6 ~ What Has Become of the Shikon no Tama



Disclaimer: *Insert standard disclaimer here*

Vocabulary:
Miko: priestess
Houriki: (basically) spiritual power
Tanuki: raccoon

As she moved through the mountains, Sango continued her brisk pace until she reached a small secluded area. `There it is.' Approaching what appeared to be a solid wall of rock, a section of it started to shimmer and pulse before disappating completely, exposing a small cave entrance. "Come, Kirara," Sango called out before entering the cave.

The tunnels and caves inside were dark and dank, but even without those features the catacombs would have been treacherous to pass through without having some knowledge of where to go. Sango walked through the winding route, traversing the path that she had memorized long ago when she was a young youkai taijiya in training. Moisture dripped from the stalactites as she passed. Eventually, after rounding one final bend, Sango arrived at her destination.

It was a cavern of fairly large proportions. Ethereal blue light shone from unknown sources. Most of it illuminated the lone object found in the cave. A seemingly stone statue stood under an isolated spotlight of blue. It was of a young, beautiful woman garbed in a warrior's battle armor whose face was that of one in an intense fight. Figures of large demons were around her, their features set for eternity in stone. Sango and Kirara both stood in front of the statue, acknowledging the woman in the way that they would to a superior or an elder. "Midoriko," Sango breathed. `Midoriko - the miko who was so powerful that she could purify a youkai's soul, who fought an endless tirade of demons for seven days and seven nights. In the end, she sacrificed herself and pulled the youkai's souls with her last bit of strength into her own heart. The Shikon no Tama is the heart of Midoriko, and inside the souls of Midoriko and the youkai continue to fight a never ending battle.' Sango walked up to the statue and placed out her hand, as though she was waiting for something to appear in it. She focused on the small hole in the statue of Midoriko where her heart would be. A pinkish glow emanated from the empty space. `Two miko with as close to the spiritual capabilities of Midoriko as possible were each entrusted with the Shikon no Tama at a time in order to purify the jewel. Both of them suffered equally bad fates. The first was either killed or captured and her soul extricated from her body. The second was rumored to be a reincarnation of the first, and from the future at that. I had heard that she was sealed back into her own time. At this rate, it seems as though the Shikon no Tama will never fully be purified.' An orb colored with the rosy pink of sunsets and sunrises arose from the space and slowly lowered itself into Sango's hand. `Well, at least the Shikon no Tama has a suitable hiding place until we find another one with such houriki. After all, this is one of the least expected hiding places since this is where the jewel was created. Besides, this cave's special barrier and power helps just that much more. Well, at least I think so... I mean, it's worked so far for quite some time, right?'

She turned the jewel over and over in her palm, thinking more thoughts about its capabilities. `The Shikon no Tama is supposed to be able to give power to whoever holds it, but it seems that it only grants evil wishes...perhaps that is because only beings with evil intentions have tried to take advantage of its abilities...' She ran one finger across the jewel's smooth, round surface, stopping at one miniscule jagged cut disfiguring the perfect symmetry of the pink orb. It was as though a tiny sliver of the gem was missing, with the rest of it staying intact. `And here we have the one missing Shikon no kakera, the one lost shard making the Shikon no Tama incomplete. The second miko had fired a sacred arrow at a crow youkai who had taken it, only to hit the jewel along with the bird instead. I'm a bit hazy on what occurred afterwards, but either way the Shikon no Tama was retrieved by her with one shard missing. Hmmm... At any rate, I should finish what I came here to do...' Holding her cupped hands in front of her, she closed her eyes and focused on the small orb in her hands. Feeling her energy depart from herself, she held out until it was done. `Transferring spiritual energy to the Shikon no Tama to help purify it always takes a lot out of me...probably because I lack it myself.' The jewel glowed slightly pinker in her hands before levitating above her and returning to the statue of Midoriko. Sango moved to the side of the cave and leaned against it, panting slightly. `Either way, I'm just going to replenish my strength here... But still, I can't help but wonder what became of the last Shikon no kakera and why we still haven't found it...'


_______________


Somewhere far into the distance a man glanced out of a window. `I don't even need to see or contact him to know that he is returning here.' He smirked. `The houshi falling in love with the taijiya has changed things somewhat, but no matter. This could actually work to my advantage. After all, I've already split two pairings, so one more couldn't hurt.' He smiled sinisterly, cracking a grin at the corner of his mouth. `It's quite amusing, actually.'


_______________


Miroku sighed as he leaned against a tree, relishing in the afternoon sun's warmth. "It's at times like these when having Hachi around could really help." He recalled his tanuki friend who provided speedy transportation with the form that he could change to. `Walking for distances like this was no fun. It doesn't help that I'm walking back to the fortress either. And why do I feel so languid and depressed lately?' He stabbed at the ground with his shakujou's end somewhat frustratedly. `Honestly, I have no idea what's the matter with me. I mean, even though I hate Naraku I'm able to stand him, so it's not that...right? Maybe it's because of the mission I just had...' Images of a certain female youkai taijiya came to his mind. `Sango...'

He knew what came next. `I'm thinking about her again. Oh shit.'


_______________


Sango tossed and turned in her sleep. Normally after transferring houriki to the Shikon no Tama she would feel drained and be so lifeless that when she slept could not remember how long she slept, dreamless. However, this time...was different.

In her mind, she saw what were probably men... 'Raiding the village and killing the villagers? So much screaming...and fire...I don't understand...' In her dream, she was wide-eyed with shock, for the men had started to go after her.

The scene changed. She saw Miroku with his shakujou in his hand, blood dripping from the sharp metal end. An evil grin spread across his face as he held his arm out across the fallen bodies whose faces Sango could not see. "You betrayed me, Houshi-sama!" she dimly heard herself shout.

It was then that she woke up.

Sango sat up, her heart racing. "Just a dream, just a dream, just a goddamned dream..." She wiped the sweat the had somehow formed on her forehead off with the palm of her hand, breathing heavily. "A dream...with my strange vision-ish dream from when I fell asleep at the festival in it? Couldn't be..." She shook her head as though she was trying to shake the thoughts out. `And why was he in it? Why did I say that he betrayed me? It doesn't make sense...' she puzzled out, bewildered. `And why was he in it anyway?!' Looking back down, she saw that her hand had clenched up to form a fist, the skin around her nails white. She quickly loosened it. `I just don't know what to think anymore...everything's so wrong...'

And with that, she slowly fell asleep again.


_______________


Naraku turned away from the window, his face shrouded by shadow. He reached into the folds of his shirt, coming up with a pink diamond-shaped shard so tiny that it fit between his finger and thumb. It glimmered like glass as Naraku slowly rotated it around in his grip, letting the sun shine on it. `One small shard. One tiny fraction of the whole Shikon no Tama, brought to me by the actions of one little miko not even at her full capabilities.' He stood up, rising from the tatami mats on the floor. `And with this one shard, the rest of the Shikon no Tama will be mine.'

"Kagura."

"Yes, Naraku." A slim woman wearing a kimono with jet black hair pulled into a bun and a paper fan in her hand strode out into view. Her startling red eyes held a defiant authoritive look.

"Ready the men. I have the location to send them to."

"Hai, Naraku-sama." `Damned bastard. If only he didn't have my heart held in his hands, for then I could have my freedom. Until then, I will have to obey his every whim and command.'

"Kagura." Naraku startled her, bringing her back to reality. "With such a simple task, surely even you cannot fail at such a thing." She gritted her teeth in response to his challenge, but said nothing. She knew he was trying to provoke her into voicing something that she shouldn't.

"At any rate, hurry yourself. Perhaps this will quicken your pace." In his palm lay a strange orb, colored and glowing with a strong dark pink, which was a fair amount larger than the Shikon no Tama. He curled his fingers together around the roundish object, squeezing it.

Kagura collapsed to the ground.

"Damn you," she uttered in a pained voice.

"Do not forget who it is that holds your heart, or rather your life, in his hands." Naraku smirked as he loosened his grip on Kagura's heart. "Now hurry. I will be coming along, and I want this to be over with." He watched as Kagura, clutching her chest, quickly rise and leave the room.

"In this game, I hold all of the pieces."


_______________


From his same position against the tree, Miroku got up abruptly. A group of men and youkai some distance away were going in the direction that he had just come at a quick pace, led by a certain woman riding on a large white feather in the air. `Kagura.What could a group of people and youkai from the fortress possibly be doing out here?' He gathered up his things hurriedly.

`In any case, I'd better return quickly.'


_______________


"Nrrph, stop it," Sango groaned as Kirara rubbed against her side. Undiscouraged, the small neko youkai pushed her little black nose in Sango's face, waking her up this time. "Alright Kirara, you win." Sango let out a huge yawn. Kirara started mewing. Sango's eyes suddenly widened, her drowsiness forgotten.

"Kirara, are you sure?"

"Mew!"

"Impossible!" Grabbing her Hiraikotsu, Sango raced out of the caverns so fast that only someone with her knowledge of the caves could have done so, Kirara at her heels.

"Oh no! Kirara really was right!" Sango started to panic.

"There's smoke coming from the village!"

( Kage_MAdoushi: It will be continued! I'll get back to you when it is done, okay? )

<< Inu Yasha, 0004 >> Losing You
By our favorite, Queenizzay
Original text: Go to http://www.anzwers.org/free/msfics/losing_you.htm

Showing: Whole Story

_ __ __ __ ___ ___ __ __ _ _
Losing You

by Queenizzay

Pain shot through every core of his body, every organ when he thought about it. This couldn't be his fate, it wouldn't. He would not allow such a curse to consume him. At first, he'd been slowly coming to terms with his destiny. Miroku knew it was unlikely that he would defeat Naraku before his wind tunnel dragged him in, that wouldn't stop him from trying though. Even after meeting Inuyasha he had his doubts. He knew that when the time came, he would leave them, keeping them from sharing the same fate as he. All of that changed though, once they'd met her. Everything changed because of her.

"Houshi-sama?" A girl asked, peaking her head around the monk's secret hiding place. "What are you doing behind a bush?"

"Nothing my dear Sango, simply admiring the view. However, it's not nearly as beautiful as you." He said calmly, looking up at her. He could have sworn he saw a faint blush spread across her cheeks as she adverted her eyes. But that couldn't be... Right? She'd never think of him as anything more then a lecher. That wasn't completely off track, but he'd toned down ever since she'd come into his life. It's not his fault she was so beautiful with such a touchable backside. It called to him.

"Stop with the flattery Houshi-sama, Kagome just sent me to tell you that dinner was ready. It's ramen, so if you want any, you should get it now before Inuyasha eats it all."

As Sango turned to leave, Miroku let out a long sigh, one Sango couldn't possibly miss. She did. However, once she'd gotten a few steps away, she remembered what it was Kagome had said.

"Miroku has missed dinner all week. Get him here before I hit you all with a frying pan! And don't come back without him!"

This was very un-Kagome-like, and Sango had no idea what a frying pan was. She and Inuyasha had gotten into a particularly violent fight about her going home tomorrow. It ended with the hanyou in the floor and Sango running out of the hut before Kagome napped again. Grumbling, Sango slumped back to Miroku's bush and sat next to him with a sigh.

"Houshi-sama, are you coming to dinner?"

"No thank you, I'm not very hungry."

Sango sighed again. This was just great... She was starving. Looking for jewel shards, fighting, and slapping Miroku took a lot out of a girl! She was about to tell him so, but was cut short when she took a good look at her companion's face. Despite his flirty and perverted antics, he had a very serious look in his eyes. They were out of focus and he was trembling a bit. When he turned his head to look at her briefly, she turned her own away, ashamed to be caught staring.

"Houshi-sama... Are you all right?"

"Of course Sango..." Miroku smiled weakly. How could she affect him so much? Just being next to her made him ache to be closer. She'd never see him the same way he saw her though. Sango had the impression that Miroku saw her as a mere toy, something to have fun with... Something she wasn't. Miroku would move heaven and earth to be with the demon exterminator, but as devoted he would be, he knew couldn't, his curse wouldn't allow it.

"Houshi-sama, you can't hide things from me... Come on, what's wrong? You can tell me." Sango smiled a bit. He tried his hardest to hide what he thought, it didn't work too well on her though. Sango noticed these things, how could she miss them? She couldn't control it, when Miroku was sad, she was sad. When he was upset, she was upset. And when Miroku was hurt, she wanted to die. Why she felt this way, she couldn't place though. Could it be...?

*Love

Love?!

Love

Couldn't be!

And why is that?

Because, I can't fall in love with him!

Why not?

Because

Because?

Because I just can't.*

Miroku watched, slightly amused and alarmed, as Sango continued her internal battle. He could see the frustration and confusion etched on her face and vaguely wondered what she was thinking about. He let his gaze wander alone the lines of her profile as she sat beside him.

'So beautiful....' He thought

*Why can't you love him?

Because... Just leave me alone

You're scared

Scared? What is there to be scared of?

Losing him

What?

Your scared of losing him. That's why you won't love him

...

...Shut up, What do you know?

Everything. I'm the almighty voice. I know everything. Admit it.

There's nothing to admit...

*sigh* Stop being so stubborn. Look him in the eyes then.

Why would I do that?

A) it's romantic. B) You haven't done it since you fell. Look him in the eyes and try to tell yourself you don't love him.

Fine then, I will

Fine

Fine

Fine

Fi-

GO!*

Sango took a deep breath and turned to Miroku, only to find he was already staring at her. Blushing furiously, she was about to look away... but found she couldn't.

Oh gods...

Looking in his eyes, she could see everything. The pain he was going through, the worries and doubts. Smiling sadly, she brushed his hair out of his face with her hand and gently laid her head on his shoulder. She sighed and looked up at his stunned face.

"I know that you're worried... Worried and scared."

"I am not-"

"I'm scared too."

Miroku blinked and stared at her in shock. Sango wasn't exactly one to come out and admit that something was wrong. Sango tended to hold those kinds of emotions in, hidden from the world. He always knew how she was feeling though. He'd heard his father once say: "Your eyes tell a story your lips won't". This was awfully dangerous for Miroku to test out on Sango though... Every time he found himself getting lost. (A/N: woah! This is getting wayyyy off track here... I like it XD)

"What are you scared of?" Miroku asked quietly, truly curious.

"Tell you my secrets if you tell me yours." She answered, plucking at the ground. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She never talked to Miroku as openly as she was now... Damn inner voices....

"All right."

"Okay." Sango took a breath and played with a long piece of grass. "I'm scared. I'm scared that we don't defeat him. I'm scared of everyone leaving once it's over. I'm scared of losing my brother." 'Losing you' "Okay... Your turn."

"All right, I am scared. I'm scared of my curse. I'm scared of what will happen because of it. I'm scared of Naraku. I'm scared of the wind tunnel... Most of all... I'm scared of you."

"Me?!"

"You." Miroku nodded, "I'm scared of your smile. I'm scared of your eyes, your lips. And above all, I'm scared to lose you."

Sango gasped softly at this, and Miroku took that moment to bring his head down to hers and capture her lips in a gentle kiss. Sango tensed and her eyes grew wide, that was definitely something she had not been expected. She only came to tell him dinner was ready... How did all this happen? Then again... What did it matter? Feeling his warm lips covering hers, she eased her shoulders, closed her eyes and returned the gesture. Slowly, Miroku pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, letting their breath mingle.

"Kami, I've wanted to do that for a long time..."

Sango blushed, "Hous-" Miroku cut her off through, with another soft yet firm kiss, not able to bare hearing her call him that still. Yes, he was a monk, but he was Miroku first, and he wanted to here her say it at least once before he'd leave them all. Thinking of the day he'd have to leave the woman at his side, he started to tremble a bit. (A/N: aww! Miroku-kun! >.<) He knew it wouldn't be long now. Everyday, the hold grew bigger, not that he could tell the others... They wouldn't let him go.

"Houshi-sama" Sango gasped, pulling away when she felt him shaking. "Miroku..." She sighed, wrapping her arms around his middle and nestling her head in the crook of his neck. Miroku hugged her close to him, trailing kisses along her neck, something else he'd been wanted to do forever. (A/N: she's so god damn lucky!)

"I don't want to lose you" He mumbled against her neck, causing her to shudder.

"Miroku..." Sango breathed, sitting up, "You won't lose me. You won't leave me either." Miroku opened his mouth to argue but Sango hushed him, placing her finger on his lips. "Shh... I won't let you. I swear that if you do I'll never forgive you."

"But Sango... The Wind tunnel -"

"I know about the wind tunnel... We'll get Naraku. Don't give me that look! And if we don't... I don't want you to leave me..."

"Sango, I don't want any of you to-" Sango pressed her lips up against his, swallowing any argument on the subject. Miroku gladly accepted, running his hand through Sango's hair. Sango hesitantly moved her hands up to the back of his head, tugging his hair out of it's hold, tangling her fingers in it. She'd been waiting to do that. She knew he just wanted to protect everyone, and that she was being selfish... She didn't want Miroku to leave though, as much as she hated it, she'd grown to him... She loved him. Hey! The inner voice said it, not me! Anyway... All of that didn't matter right now... All that she was thinking of was how good it felt while Miroku nibbled on her lower lip. (A/N: *sigh... I'm depressed now...) This may have been why she didn't hear the bushes behind them rustle and Shippou's little head pop out.

"Hey Sango what are you- EWWW!" He cried, covering his eyes, " I'm tellin Kagome!"

"Shoot!" Sango cursed, smacking her forehead, "Dinner. Kagome sent me to get you."

"That's all right." Miroku stated, lifting Sango's face up to his, "I'm not very hungry."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How the hell did I get from Dinner to snogging? O.o.... That's a question for the gods. ANYWAY! Fluffy and romantic enough for you? ^-~ Was for me! *sigh* Not fair... I make Sango have a better love life then I do... Anyone has a better love life then I do... Why? Because I don't have one! -.-; not fair... ANYWAY! Review ^-~ Talk ta meh! o.O The weather, school, personal problems e.e anything..... I'm so bored!