InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Blackout ❯ Lost in a Dream ( Chapter 27 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: King Baka 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure / Angst | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 11.13.2014 | Pages: 14 | Words: 9.4K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure / Angst | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 11.13.2014 | Pages: 14 | Words: 9.4K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha or any of
the publicly known characters, plot, etc. I’m just renting
them from Rumiko Takahashi, Viz, etc. I do own the plot of this
story and any original characters I’ve created. I will make
no money from this fic; I write for my own enjoyment and the
enjoyment of my readers.
Lost in a Dream
They came together much as they had on that night almost three weeks ago. Their dry lips pressing chastely against each other, but creating so much heat that it felt like they might burn. But unlike that evening, Kagome was not satisfied. Inuyasha had probably intended the kiss as a sweet expression of gratitude, but this was not enough for her. And when he moved to pull away, she acted on her desires without thinking. She quickly looped her arms around his neck, pressing her body more fully against his while maintaining contact with his lips. Then she parted her lips and smoothly slipped her tongue inside his mouth.
She swallowed his shocked gasp, her body questing, seeking something of its own accord. His hands rose to her shoulders as if to push her away, but in the next moment a hungry growl emanated from his throat and his arms wrapped tightly around her. His tongue rose to duel passionately with hers, until finally Kagome gave up and allowed herself to be dominated. One of his hands slipped down to cup her denim-clad backside possessively, drawing a needy mewl from her as she realized that mere kissing was not enough either.
Inuyasha evidently reached the same conclusion. How they made it to her bed, Kagome would never know. One moment she was standing in his passionate embrace; the next she found herself sandwiched deliciously between the soft mattress and the intoxicating hardness of his body. Even more impressively, he had somehow executed the entire movement without breaking their lip lock. A pleasured groan escaped her throat as a clawed hand slipped under her shirt, leaving tendrils of flame dancing across her stomach. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against the hard planes of his chest, silently begging for more. He obliged, his hand moving slowly upwards, until the tips of his claws brushed the underside of her bra. She moaned into the kiss, throbbing with anticipation, losing control for just a split-second and accidentally biting his tongue.
Inuyasha grunted in surprise at the sudden flash of pain in his sensitive flesh, and Kagome pulled back, probably intending to apologize. But he followed her, a husky grown rumbling in his throat as he maintained the lip lock. Soon she had forgotten all about her blunder and was enthusiastically participating in their amorous activities once more. Inuyasha too reimmersed himself in their own private world, where all of his senses were fully attuned to the girl underneath him. She was his everything. Today, he would finally show her how much she meant to him.
She gasped as his hand gently cupped her breast, her heated flesh scorching his palm even through the fabric of her bra. She started to squirm under him as he continued his sensual movements, determined to take his time and memorize the feel of her body as she reacted to his ministrations. Her hands were not idle, fumbling with the ties at his waist, indicating her desire to touch him in the same manner. Inuyasha leaned up so he was straddling her on his knees, and removed his robes with practiced ease. He left his hakama draped loosely across his hips, not wishing to spend any longer than absolutely necessary away from Kagome’s warmth. Even separating from her for a few moments made the room feel chilly. Kagome took advantage of the brief parting as well, much to his delight, sitting up to pull her blouse over her head and reaching behind her to unfasten the clasp of her bra. She started to remove that garment as well, but he hastily caught her hands to stop her. She gazed questioningly into his eyes, only to smile shyly at what she saw and lie back down obediently with her hands at her sides.
Inuyasha licked his lips subconsciously as he took in the sight of her mostly topless form, the now loosened bra still concealing her twin treasures from his view. He glanced up to her face just to make sure she was still comfortable with continuing, and was shocked at what he glimpsed reflected back at him. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and darkened with longing. It amazed him, that she could be as enthralled by him as he was by her, despite having seen his naked chest on dozens of previous occasions. But mending injuries was a far cry from foreplay to joining as man and woman. Perhaps she was giving him a glimpse of how much she truly loved him.
Inuyasha laid himself down by her side, resting on his left hip and leaning up on his elbow. Kagome followed him with her eyes, but otherwise remained still. She was nervous, he could tell, but then so was he. Initially, their actions had been driven by lust, a sudden passion which had ensnared both of them. Before they knew it, they’d been on the bed, kissing each other senseless. Things were different now. To continue from here was a conscious decision on both of their parts. And despite the nervousness naturally associated with making love for the first time, neither Inuyasha nor Kagome could detect any trace of uncertainty from their partner. Each of them wanted this, more deeply than they had ever desired anything.
Truly humbled, Inuyasha reached reverentially for the scrap of fabric currently obstructing his view of his lover’s chest. With a shaking hand, he first freed the ends of the straps from where they’d become trapped underneath her, then slowly pulled the garment away from her body. He didn’t see Kagome draw the shoulder straps down her arms and toss the bra away. Higher brain function temporarily ceased as he stared at her perfect breasts, until the persistent itching sensation in his eyes reminded him of his body’s need to blink. Even then, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. He had seen her breasts before, by accident, but those fleeting glances didn’t come close to doing them justice. Their natural beauty was only highlighted by the fine sheen of sweat covering her skin, the way her chest shuddered slightly as she breathed. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, easily detectable to his sensitive ears, and her tantalizing scent coiled around him like an intoxicating perfume. She had bared her body for him. She was aroused for him, and by him. He would keep her waiting no longer.
She yelped as he firmly grasped her breast with his free hand, not expecting him to be so bold. But despite the lust coursing through his veins, he was gentle with her, and she had no complaints. To the contrary, her soft involuntary moans were music to his ears, as he massaged her tender flesh. Encouraged, he decided to experiment, leaning over and blowing softly on her other breast. The hitch in her breathing told him that she liked it, so he did it again, watching in fascination as her nipple hardened. Getting a rather wicked idea, he pursed his lips and latched them firmly onto her erect bud, not bothering to lead up to this with foreplay. Kagome cried out at the intensity of the sensation, arching her back as he practically drew her up off the mattress with his steady suction. Then he bit down with his teeth, too weakly to leave a mark, but definitely hard enough to remind her of her little slip-up before. It wrung a strangled hiss from her, which he couldn’t tell was born of pleasure or pain.
She rolled to the side suddenly, and for a moment Inuyasha wondered if he’d gone too far. Until he saw the playful look in her eyes, and a mischievous smile which promised no end to trouble. In short order, the powerful hanyou found himself lying flat on his back, with Kagome straddling his hips. Any thoughts of protesting were immediately dispelled when she ground her denim-clad core against his throbbing erection. The scent of her excitement increased as she continued to move against him, bathing him in her essence. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes threatened to slide shut in rapture as she rode him toward the climax she could feel approaching from some distance off, yet tantalizingly close. But she soon stopped herself, gazing down at him with a hungry look which inspired both fear and anticipation from her lover.
There was pleasure in touching Kagome, in making her mewl underneath him. There was also pleasure in being touched by her, as Inuyasha was pleased to discover. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, plundering his mouth as her breasts pressed teasingly against the hard planes of his chest. One of her hands snaked up to the top of his head and latched onto an ear, massaging it tenderly. He groaned against her lips, a flash of sensation shooting straight to his groin. He had never associated having his ears rubbed with sexual pleasure, but he would from now on. Under the right circumstances, of course. Everything Kagome was doing felt right, her hands gliding over his flesh, the little flexes of her hips which she couldn’t stop herself from making, and even when she returned his earlier favor and bit his nipple. Idly Inuyasha reflected that this made them uneven once again the biting department, but he had a feeling that this was a contest he was never going to win. Not that he really minded losing.
He was, after all, the luckiest damn hanyou the world had ever known. This was his thought as he reversed their positions and hovered over her. Kagome’s hair was tousled, her upper body flushed and her lips well-kissed. For a few moments he simply stared, overwhelmed by her beauty. She gazed up at him in awe, equally captivated. He gulped, realizing that before they went any further, he needed to be absolutely sure that she wanted this. Because once he saw her fully naked, sampled the aroma of her arousal uninhibited by her remaining clothing, it was going to be exponentially more difficult for him to stop. It would be nothing short of torture to end things here, but he would do it if she asked it of him.
“Kagome…” he breathed, knowing from the look in her eyes that he didn’t need to say anything more. She beamed at him, and he was sure she was about to nod her acceptance or say something which would set his heart ablaze with passion. But instead her smile faded, her eyes becoming unfocused as her head lolled back to stare blankly at the ceiling.
“Kagome? What’s wrong?” he demanded, suddenly worried. She was unresponsive, so he tried again, shaking her a little this time. “Kagome? Kagome!”
“Help…me,” she whispered in a tiny, frightened voice, her lips trembling.
“I’m here, Kagome. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll protect you!”
“Help…me,” she repeated, just before her body seized violently, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Kagome!”
Her head snapped around to glare at him, with eyes which were no longer her own. She smirked, an expression as foreign to her as the cruelty in her gaze. His beloved Kagome was gone, replaced by a monster.
“Don’t worry, Inuyasha,” it stated in a tone which cut straight through him. “Kagome knows she’s second best.”
Inuyasha woke screaming, in a blind panic. It was several long moments before he was able to gather his bearings and reconcile the perverse conjurings of his mind with reality. He took a deep, shuddering breath and drew his knees up, resting his head in his hands as he willed his heartbeat to slow. What remained of his erection was withering faster than if someone had dumped ice water on his loins. The truth was that he was okay and so was Kagome, but he would be extremely grateful if he never had to experience that fiction again.
He’d be lying if he said it was the first time he’d dreamt of that afternoon in her bedroom, where passion had temporarily overcome reason. But he and Kagome had never gone that far in any of the previous occasions, and in fact it was the first time he’d had a ‘sexy’ dream since her abduction. What did that say? Inuyasha was no expert on the human/hanyou subconscious, but he would guess it had something to do with his earth-shattering revelations yesterday. Due to exhaustion, he hadn’t spent much time thinking about it last night–was it last night? How long had he been asleep? In this world of perpetual daylight, it was impossible to keep track of the passage of time. At any rate, it was as though his conscience had given him permission to dream about her in that way again, now that his feelings were clear.
He sighed, banging his head off the rock wall at his back. I am officially the biggest idiot alive. Even that might have been an understatement. He’d found a cave to take shelter in to make it easier to sleep, but now it would function as an ideal place for personal reflection. Oh, joy, his favorite pastime. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. His thoughts drifted back to his dream, to the amazingly pleasurable part before that horrible ending. In his experience, the typical ‘sexy’ dream–and he’d had them occasionally in the past–was about sex, in particular the physical aspects of the act. But that dream…that was about so much more. She was his everything. Today, he would finally show her how much she meant to him. During sleep, he’d known the truth, that he loved Kagome with all his heart. And so he dreamt about ‘making love’ to her, a phrase which was foreign to him but which seemed to perfectly describe what they’d been doing. As for where he’d heard it, he couldn’t say. Maybe on the television back in her time. Regardless, the contents of his heart during his dream were crystal clear to him. They were the same feelings which blossomed in his waking heart.
It had been a lengthy process, this bout of self-discovery, starting prior to the conception of their child, and continuing to this day. He’d spent much of that time clinging stubbornly to the status quo, but there had been a few ‘moments’ too. An obvious one was the night after Kikyou’s hateful rebuke, when Kagome had nearly left him. Then followed a long period of consistency; even making out with Kagome in her room and learning of Kikyou’s apparent demise had changed little. In addition to being the lowest, most miserable time of his life, Kagome’s subsequent abduction had also been a major turning point. He’d known before then that she was important to him. But the incredible depth of his need for her had remained hidden from him until she was taken away, with little initial hope of getting her back. How many times had he reflected that life wasn’t worth living unless Kagome was by his side?
So it was not as though his revelations yesterday had emerged completely out of the blue, though the stress and trauma of the battle had certainly accelerated his progress down the path to enlightenment. And it had almost cost him everything. He shivered as he recalled the experience of nearly losing himself to the Shikon no Tama’s evil, then smiled at the warmth which had saved him. Even before that, when he’d been so desperate to break through Housenki’s shell, he’d started to come to terms with the emotions held deep within his heart. He’d pushed himself to his limits and beyond, both physically and mentally, and then during a true moment of death, he’d experienced an epiphany. He was actually grateful for everything that had happened; who knew how long it would have taken him to pull his head out of his ass otherwise? But of course, coming to terms with his feelings was the easy part, relatively speaking. Figuring out what to do with that knowledge was the real challenge.
He could no longer entertain even the slimmest element of doubt with regards to what he truly wanted. It was Kagome, plain and simple. He wanted her as a mate, a wife, and a partner to raise a family with. She had always been his best friend, and no doubt would continue to be, even as they progressed to lovers and beyond. He wanted to spend every single day by her side, until death did them part. And she desired him in the same way. It seemed so obvious now, looking back on her evolving behavior over the time they’d known each other. But there had been a cloud over his vision which prevented him from seeing Kagome as she truly was. And despite how stupid he now felt, he was exceedingly grateful that it had been removed.
Still, the dreaded question remained: what did he do about Kikyou? If she was truly dead, then the answer was simple–he would move on and begin life anew. If, however, she still maintained her borrowed existence in the world of the living, then the issue became more complicated. His responsibilities to Kikyou didn’t just go away because he’d decided to be honest with himself concerning his desire for a life with her reincarnation. Nor would she be especially thrilled to learn of his change of heart. He shuddered just thinking about that potential confrontation. But he had to wonder, was the remorse he felt concerning Kikyou born of guilt, or merely sadness?
There was no doubt that he felt genuinely sorry for her. She had a tragic past, and had died far too young, without being able to experience hardly any of the joy which made life in this bleak, desolate world worth living. He liked to think that he’d given her a small taste of happiness, during the short time they’d spent together. There was still much he would give of himself in order to make her happy. But not his life, nor his future. Those no longer belonged to her.
His life…didn’t belong to Kikyou. That was a novel concept, at least to him. Not to anyone else; his friends had been subtly trying to convince him of its truthfulness for months. While he’d been stuck on his self-manufactured guilt, those closest to him believed he should have forgiven himself for his part in Kikyou’s death ages ago. It still pained him to think of it, the tragedy which had befallen them. They’d both been tricked by Naraku, hurt and loneliness driving them to revert to their old selves. He’d selfishly tried to take the Shikon no Tama, and Kikyou had stopped him, as any miko would be expected to do. They both shared equal blame for falling victim to Naraku’s ruse, for never allowing their relationship to progress to a point where such deception would fail. After her resurrection, he’d nevertheless placed the lion’s share of the culpability upon his own shoulders, perhaps a consequence of elevating Kikyou atop an unrealistic pedestal. But her recent behavior toward Kagome had made it easier for him to see her in a less favorable light. Kikyou had changed. The version who had walked the earth before vanishing at Mount Hakurei was not the same woman he’d fallen for fifty years ago. The kind, lonely soul he’d known had succumbed to bitterness and hatred. He firmly believed that the true Kikyou still existed, that her heart had not been entirely corrupted. But that Kikyou was gone, and he didn’t expect to see her again anytime soon. Which begged the question–if Kikyou was just as much at fault for her death as he was, and she was reduced to barely a shell of her former self…why did he have to die for her?
He groaned, deciding to stop asking rhetorical questions which made him feel stupid. In his defense, he hadn’t exactly started on this emotional journey in a state of divine tranquility. To the contrary, he’d been pretty damn screwed up back then. It had taken weeks after his revival for Kagome to make any progress in getting him to open up at all, progress which had quickly been obliterated due to Kikyou’s resurrection. His dark past had literally come back to haunt him, completely frying his emotional compass and turning his rational mind into mush. So he would try not to be too hard on himself, so long as things turned out the way he hoped. If he could free Kagome from Naraku’s clutches, he knew that she would forgive him for being so blind. Then, and only then, would he forgive himself.
In the meantime, he would carry on, pushing forward with all of his willpower. And if he did happen to meet Kikyou, this time he would inform her of his decision. His heart clenched, reminding him of his sympathy, which had in no way diminished. Kikyou hadn’t deserved the suffering fate had beset upon her. She was a good person, and should have been afforded the happiness enjoyed by countless people much less admirable than herself. He would still do what he could to help her. If she came to him, he would not refuse to meet with her. If she wanted a sympathetic ear, he would listen without complaint. If she asked something reasonable of him which was within his power to give, he would comply without hesitation. She deserved no less. But she did not deserve his life, and he would never again let her take him away from where he truly belonged.
A sudden gust of wind inside the cave broke him from his musings, carrying with it a scent which immediately set his nerves to firing. He jumped up and grasped Tetsusaiga’s hilt as a familiar face peeked into the cave entrance.
“Finally awake, eh Inuyasha?” she observed with an amused grin.
“Kagura! What the hell are you doing here? Why didn’t you go back with Naraku?”
Grimacing, she dismounted her feather and stepped fully into the entrance. “You caught me with your first diamond spear attack,” she stated with an edge of annoyance to her tone, lifting her arm so he could see the jagged hole in the right side of her kimono. The flesh underneath had fully healed, but judging by the damage to her clothing, Kagura had taken a serious hit.
“That fuckin’ hurt,” she added, though it didn’t seem like she had revenge on her mind. “By the time I recovered, Naraku was already gone.”
“Heh, so you’re stuck here too, huh?” Inuyasha deduced with a smirk, relaxing his stance. Whatever Kagura’s intentions were in visiting him, they didn’t appear to be violent. She certainly could have attacked him in his sleep if she’d wanted to. He liked to think that he would have woken in time to defend himself, but was glad she’d decided not to test his reflexes.
“Pretty much,” she answered casually, confirming his theory.
“So what happens now?”
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. I was hoping you knew something I didn’t.”
“Like a way out of here? Sorry, but we’re both shit outta luck.”
“Damn. Oh, well,” she replied with a sigh, “then I guess we just wait for Naraku to find another pathway.”
“We?” Inuyasha repeated incredulously.
“You’re stuck with me, Inuyasha, whether you like it or not. Naraku’s too damn obsessed with the jewel to leave you here with a piece of it. I stick by you, and maybe I get to go back to the world of the living. Because that bastard definitely won’t go out of his way to help me.”
While Inuyasha wasn’t initially thrilled with the prospect of Kagura tagging along with him, he knew there was little he could do about it. Trying to chase her off would take a lot of effort and would likely prove futile anyway. Not to mention completely pointless, since he had no real reason to drive her away. Kagura didn’t seem to want to fight, and neither did he. If she was willing to be civil, he would reciprocate. Besides, even having the wind sorceress for company sounded better than wandering alone in this graveyard.
“Keh, do whatever you want. I’m finding my own way out.”
“Tch, overconfident as always. Are you thinking of the gateway we were at before?” Kagura inquired dryly. “Sorry, but I already tried it. That thing won’t open from the inside.”
“Maybe for you,” Inuyasha retorted. “It will open for Tetsusaiga.”
Kagura still looked skeptical, but made no further attempt to dissuade him from his purpose. It was a short journey to the gateway, with Inuyasha catching a ride on one of the skeletal birds and Kagura following on her feather. She didn’t offer him a ride, and he wouldn’t have accepted anyway. In the end, the entire endeavor proved an exercise in frustration. No matter what he and Tetsusaiga threw at the gate, it wouldn’t budge. At least Kagura knew better than to rub it in. The flight back was uncomfortably silent, each party equally disappointed.
“Damn, that’s one big bastard,” Kagura muttered during the final approach, eyeing the massive skeleton looming up before them.
“That’s my oyaji.”
Her eyes went comically wide. “Your…wow. Sorry.”
“Keh, it’s fine. He is a big bastard. I never knew him. He gave me Tetsusaiga and my fire-rat, but that’s about it.” Inuyasha intended to speak dismissively, but there was a certain sadness in his tone which he couldn’t quite cover up. His bitterness against his father had softened over the years, especially since his reawakening. He no longer hated the Inu no Taisho for leaving him and his mother alone in that cursed village. Something about having people who cared about him helped to heal old wounds.
Kagura frowned curiously. “Does Sesshoumaru have a form like that too?”
“Yep.”
“That would be pretty interesting to see.”
“Keh, it’s not that impressive. How do you think that asshole lost his arm?”
She turned to regard him contemplatively. “I always wondered about that. Was it your doing?”
Inuyasha nodded. “It was either that or get Kagome and myself killed. Even back then, I was driven to protect her,” he reflected with a genuine smile, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. Kagura said nothing, instead descending to land on a convenient rock ledge with a thoughtful expression on her face. She reclined against the rock and closed her eyes with a sigh. Inuyasha hesitated for a moment, then moved to join her. He sat down perhaps a meter or two away, eyeing her warily. This was odd, carrying on a conversation with an enemy, but not unpleasant. But then, Kagura wasn’t really an enemy anymore, was she?
“Thank you,” he said quietly, causing her to blink at him in confusion.
“For what?”
“You said you would watch out for Kagome. She and the baby are still alive.”
“Tch, I didn’t really do anything. I told you already, I couldn’t stop them from hurting her if I wanted to.”
Inuyasha nodded; he understood Kagura’s limitations but was still grateful to have someone on the inside looking out for his beloved woman and child. It did make him wonder though…if Naraku held Kagura’s heart in his hands, why was she still alive?
“Why hasn’t Naraku killed you?” he asked, immediately cringing at his lack of tact. Fortunately, Kagura took no offense.
“Probably because I don’t know anything about his plans. I could talk to you for days and you’d never learn a thing. Although…there is one thing which you might find interesting,” she stated, looking around reflexively as if to make sure her master wasn’t listening. “The infant controlling Kagome’s body wants to betray Naraku too.”
“He does?” Now that was interesting. If Hakago was keen on liberating himself from Naraku, then perhaps he could be ‘persuaded’ to leave Kagome unharmed once the dark hanyou was dead? It was an intriguing possibility, and Inuyasha could only consider this revelation to be good news.
“Don’t go thinking that little cretin is on your side,” Kagura told him, perhaps sensing the direction of his thoughts. “He’s as twisted and sadistic as Naraku. I wouldn’t trust either one of them if I were you.”
“Oh, but I can trust you?”
Kagura smirked mischievously. “Of course you can.”
Inuyasha scoffed and shook his head. The funny thing, however, was that he did trust Kagura. Not as he trusted his friends, obviously, but enough to be sitting here with her carrying on a casual conversation. Enough to honestly believe that she would play a role in defeating Naraku and returning Kagome to his arms.
The unlikely pair lapsed into companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Kagura broke the peace with a wistful sigh.
“What’s it like, knowing you’re gonna be a father? I bet you’re scared shitless.”
“I used to be,” he answered honestly, remembering Kagome’s comforting words to him in the well house all those weeks ago. “Now I just worry about getting them back. Kagome and I can figure out the rest.”
“Well, that’s a very mature attitude, Inuyasha.”
“You mocking me, wench?”
“Yes. What’re you gonna do about it?”
Inuyasha chuckled, deciding he was ‘mature’ enough to refrain from rising to that challenge. Fighting was clearly the last thing on either of their minds right now, despite Kagura’s teasing. He would not, however, let a comment like that go without a suitable response.
“Why are you asking about that, anyway? Lookin’ to get knocked up yourself?”
Kagura glanced at him in surprise, then smirked in amusement. “If you’re propositioning me, you can go to hell. I’d rather fuck the little toad-thing that follows your brother around.”
“Keh, I don’t think Jaken would be too thrilled about that. And I wouldn’t fuck you even if you begged me for it.”
“Don’t hold your breath on that one. The fact that you found one woman willing to lie with you is mindboggling. Kagome must be messed up in the head.”
Inuyasha grimaced, that last comment having hit a sore spot though Kagura obviously hadn’t intended it to. She’d merely been teasing, but her statement was true–it really was amazing that he’d found a woman willing to be with him. Kagura’s comment had probably been more directed toward his personality than his hanyou heritage, but neither should have been very attractive to members of the opposite gender. Normally they weren’t. But Kagome wasn’t normal; she was once in a lifetime. If he lost her, he would never find love again, even if he wanted to.
“You’ll get her back,” Kagura stated quietly, sensing the shift in his mood. Inuyasha looked over to find her gazing at him confidently, and he could tell that she honestly believed her words.
“Thanks,” he told her, his spirits buoyed by her faith. He would return to the living world and slay Naraku. And when the evil which had destroyed countless lives was finally vanquished, he would hold Kagome in his arms again. That was no dream; it was a promise.
Lost in a Dream
They came together much as they had on that night almost three weeks ago. Their dry lips pressing chastely against each other, but creating so much heat that it felt like they might burn. But unlike that evening, Kagome was not satisfied. Inuyasha had probably intended the kiss as a sweet expression of gratitude, but this was not enough for her. And when he moved to pull away, she acted on her desires without thinking. She quickly looped her arms around his neck, pressing her body more fully against his while maintaining contact with his lips. Then she parted her lips and smoothly slipped her tongue inside his mouth.
She swallowed his shocked gasp, her body questing, seeking something of its own accord. His hands rose to her shoulders as if to push her away, but in the next moment a hungry growl emanated from his throat and his arms wrapped tightly around her. His tongue rose to duel passionately with hers, until finally Kagome gave up and allowed herself to be dominated. One of his hands slipped down to cup her denim-clad backside possessively, drawing a needy mewl from her as she realized that mere kissing was not enough either.
Inuyasha evidently reached the same conclusion. How they made it to her bed, Kagome would never know. One moment she was standing in his passionate embrace; the next she found herself sandwiched deliciously between the soft mattress and the intoxicating hardness of his body. Even more impressively, he had somehow executed the entire movement without breaking their lip lock. A pleasured groan escaped her throat as a clawed hand slipped under her shirt, leaving tendrils of flame dancing across her stomach. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against the hard planes of his chest, silently begging for more. He obliged, his hand moving slowly upwards, until the tips of his claws brushed the underside of her bra. She moaned into the kiss, throbbing with anticipation, losing control for just a split-second and accidentally biting his tongue.
Inuyasha grunted in surprise at the sudden flash of pain in his sensitive flesh, and Kagome pulled back, probably intending to apologize. But he followed her, a husky grown rumbling in his throat as he maintained the lip lock. Soon she had forgotten all about her blunder and was enthusiastically participating in their amorous activities once more. Inuyasha too reimmersed himself in their own private world, where all of his senses were fully attuned to the girl underneath him. She was his everything. Today, he would finally show her how much she meant to him.
She gasped as his hand gently cupped her breast, her heated flesh scorching his palm even through the fabric of her bra. She started to squirm under him as he continued his sensual movements, determined to take his time and memorize the feel of her body as she reacted to his ministrations. Her hands were not idle, fumbling with the ties at his waist, indicating her desire to touch him in the same manner. Inuyasha leaned up so he was straddling her on his knees, and removed his robes with practiced ease. He left his hakama draped loosely across his hips, not wishing to spend any longer than absolutely necessary away from Kagome’s warmth. Even separating from her for a few moments made the room feel chilly. Kagome took advantage of the brief parting as well, much to his delight, sitting up to pull her blouse over her head and reaching behind her to unfasten the clasp of her bra. She started to remove that garment as well, but he hastily caught her hands to stop her. She gazed questioningly into his eyes, only to smile shyly at what she saw and lie back down obediently with her hands at her sides.
Inuyasha licked his lips subconsciously as he took in the sight of her mostly topless form, the now loosened bra still concealing her twin treasures from his view. He glanced up to her face just to make sure she was still comfortable with continuing, and was shocked at what he glimpsed reflected back at him. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and darkened with longing. It amazed him, that she could be as enthralled by him as he was by her, despite having seen his naked chest on dozens of previous occasions. But mending injuries was a far cry from foreplay to joining as man and woman. Perhaps she was giving him a glimpse of how much she truly loved him.
Inuyasha laid himself down by her side, resting on his left hip and leaning up on his elbow. Kagome followed him with her eyes, but otherwise remained still. She was nervous, he could tell, but then so was he. Initially, their actions had been driven by lust, a sudden passion which had ensnared both of them. Before they knew it, they’d been on the bed, kissing each other senseless. Things were different now. To continue from here was a conscious decision on both of their parts. And despite the nervousness naturally associated with making love for the first time, neither Inuyasha nor Kagome could detect any trace of uncertainty from their partner. Each of them wanted this, more deeply than they had ever desired anything.
Truly humbled, Inuyasha reached reverentially for the scrap of fabric currently obstructing his view of his lover’s chest. With a shaking hand, he first freed the ends of the straps from where they’d become trapped underneath her, then slowly pulled the garment away from her body. He didn’t see Kagome draw the shoulder straps down her arms and toss the bra away. Higher brain function temporarily ceased as he stared at her perfect breasts, until the persistent itching sensation in his eyes reminded him of his body’s need to blink. Even then, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. He had seen her breasts before, by accident, but those fleeting glances didn’t come close to doing them justice. Their natural beauty was only highlighted by the fine sheen of sweat covering her skin, the way her chest shuddered slightly as she breathed. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, easily detectable to his sensitive ears, and her tantalizing scent coiled around him like an intoxicating perfume. She had bared her body for him. She was aroused for him, and by him. He would keep her waiting no longer.
She yelped as he firmly grasped her breast with his free hand, not expecting him to be so bold. But despite the lust coursing through his veins, he was gentle with her, and she had no complaints. To the contrary, her soft involuntary moans were music to his ears, as he massaged her tender flesh. Encouraged, he decided to experiment, leaning over and blowing softly on her other breast. The hitch in her breathing told him that she liked it, so he did it again, watching in fascination as her nipple hardened. Getting a rather wicked idea, he pursed his lips and latched them firmly onto her erect bud, not bothering to lead up to this with foreplay. Kagome cried out at the intensity of the sensation, arching her back as he practically drew her up off the mattress with his steady suction. Then he bit down with his teeth, too weakly to leave a mark, but definitely hard enough to remind her of her little slip-up before. It wrung a strangled hiss from her, which he couldn’t tell was born of pleasure or pain.
She rolled to the side suddenly, and for a moment Inuyasha wondered if he’d gone too far. Until he saw the playful look in her eyes, and a mischievous smile which promised no end to trouble. In short order, the powerful hanyou found himself lying flat on his back, with Kagome straddling his hips. Any thoughts of protesting were immediately dispelled when she ground her denim-clad core against his throbbing erection. The scent of her excitement increased as she continued to move against him, bathing him in her essence. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes threatened to slide shut in rapture as she rode him toward the climax she could feel approaching from some distance off, yet tantalizingly close. But she soon stopped herself, gazing down at him with a hungry look which inspired both fear and anticipation from her lover.
There was pleasure in touching Kagome, in making her mewl underneath him. There was also pleasure in being touched by her, as Inuyasha was pleased to discover. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, plundering his mouth as her breasts pressed teasingly against the hard planes of his chest. One of her hands snaked up to the top of his head and latched onto an ear, massaging it tenderly. He groaned against her lips, a flash of sensation shooting straight to his groin. He had never associated having his ears rubbed with sexual pleasure, but he would from now on. Under the right circumstances, of course. Everything Kagome was doing felt right, her hands gliding over his flesh, the little flexes of her hips which she couldn’t stop herself from making, and even when she returned his earlier favor and bit his nipple. Idly Inuyasha reflected that this made them uneven once again the biting department, but he had a feeling that this was a contest he was never going to win. Not that he really minded losing.
He was, after all, the luckiest damn hanyou the world had ever known. This was his thought as he reversed their positions and hovered over her. Kagome’s hair was tousled, her upper body flushed and her lips well-kissed. For a few moments he simply stared, overwhelmed by her beauty. She gazed up at him in awe, equally captivated. He gulped, realizing that before they went any further, he needed to be absolutely sure that she wanted this. Because once he saw her fully naked, sampled the aroma of her arousal uninhibited by her remaining clothing, it was going to be exponentially more difficult for him to stop. It would be nothing short of torture to end things here, but he would do it if she asked it of him.
“Kagome…” he breathed, knowing from the look in her eyes that he didn’t need to say anything more. She beamed at him, and he was sure she was about to nod her acceptance or say something which would set his heart ablaze with passion. But instead her smile faded, her eyes becoming unfocused as her head lolled back to stare blankly at the ceiling.
“Kagome? What’s wrong?” he demanded, suddenly worried. She was unresponsive, so he tried again, shaking her a little this time. “Kagome? Kagome!”
“Help…me,” she whispered in a tiny, frightened voice, her lips trembling.
“I’m here, Kagome. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll protect you!”
“Help…me,” she repeated, just before her body seized violently, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Kagome!”
Her head snapped around to glare at him, with eyes which were no longer her own. She smirked, an expression as foreign to her as the cruelty in her gaze. His beloved Kagome was gone, replaced by a monster.
“Don’t worry, Inuyasha,” it stated in a tone which cut straight through him. “Kagome knows she’s second best.”
Inuyasha woke screaming, in a blind panic. It was several long moments before he was able to gather his bearings and reconcile the perverse conjurings of his mind with reality. He took a deep, shuddering breath and drew his knees up, resting his head in his hands as he willed his heartbeat to slow. What remained of his erection was withering faster than if someone had dumped ice water on his loins. The truth was that he was okay and so was Kagome, but he would be extremely grateful if he never had to experience that fiction again.
He’d be lying if he said it was the first time he’d dreamt of that afternoon in her bedroom, where passion had temporarily overcome reason. But he and Kagome had never gone that far in any of the previous occasions, and in fact it was the first time he’d had a ‘sexy’ dream since her abduction. What did that say? Inuyasha was no expert on the human/hanyou subconscious, but he would guess it had something to do with his earth-shattering revelations yesterday. Due to exhaustion, he hadn’t spent much time thinking about it last night–was it last night? How long had he been asleep? In this world of perpetual daylight, it was impossible to keep track of the passage of time. At any rate, it was as though his conscience had given him permission to dream about her in that way again, now that his feelings were clear.
He sighed, banging his head off the rock wall at his back. I am officially the biggest idiot alive. Even that might have been an understatement. He’d found a cave to take shelter in to make it easier to sleep, but now it would function as an ideal place for personal reflection. Oh, joy, his favorite pastime. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. His thoughts drifted back to his dream, to the amazingly pleasurable part before that horrible ending. In his experience, the typical ‘sexy’ dream–and he’d had them occasionally in the past–was about sex, in particular the physical aspects of the act. But that dream…that was about so much more. She was his everything. Today, he would finally show her how much she meant to him. During sleep, he’d known the truth, that he loved Kagome with all his heart. And so he dreamt about ‘making love’ to her, a phrase which was foreign to him but which seemed to perfectly describe what they’d been doing. As for where he’d heard it, he couldn’t say. Maybe on the television back in her time. Regardless, the contents of his heart during his dream were crystal clear to him. They were the same feelings which blossomed in his waking heart.
It had been a lengthy process, this bout of self-discovery, starting prior to the conception of their child, and continuing to this day. He’d spent much of that time clinging stubbornly to the status quo, but there had been a few ‘moments’ too. An obvious one was the night after Kikyou’s hateful rebuke, when Kagome had nearly left him. Then followed a long period of consistency; even making out with Kagome in her room and learning of Kikyou’s apparent demise had changed little. In addition to being the lowest, most miserable time of his life, Kagome’s subsequent abduction had also been a major turning point. He’d known before then that she was important to him. But the incredible depth of his need for her had remained hidden from him until she was taken away, with little initial hope of getting her back. How many times had he reflected that life wasn’t worth living unless Kagome was by his side?
So it was not as though his revelations yesterday had emerged completely out of the blue, though the stress and trauma of the battle had certainly accelerated his progress down the path to enlightenment. And it had almost cost him everything. He shivered as he recalled the experience of nearly losing himself to the Shikon no Tama’s evil, then smiled at the warmth which had saved him. Even before that, when he’d been so desperate to break through Housenki’s shell, he’d started to come to terms with the emotions held deep within his heart. He’d pushed himself to his limits and beyond, both physically and mentally, and then during a true moment of death, he’d experienced an epiphany. He was actually grateful for everything that had happened; who knew how long it would have taken him to pull his head out of his ass otherwise? But of course, coming to terms with his feelings was the easy part, relatively speaking. Figuring out what to do with that knowledge was the real challenge.
He could no longer entertain even the slimmest element of doubt with regards to what he truly wanted. It was Kagome, plain and simple. He wanted her as a mate, a wife, and a partner to raise a family with. She had always been his best friend, and no doubt would continue to be, even as they progressed to lovers and beyond. He wanted to spend every single day by her side, until death did them part. And she desired him in the same way. It seemed so obvious now, looking back on her evolving behavior over the time they’d known each other. But there had been a cloud over his vision which prevented him from seeing Kagome as she truly was. And despite how stupid he now felt, he was exceedingly grateful that it had been removed.
Still, the dreaded question remained: what did he do about Kikyou? If she was truly dead, then the answer was simple–he would move on and begin life anew. If, however, she still maintained her borrowed existence in the world of the living, then the issue became more complicated. His responsibilities to Kikyou didn’t just go away because he’d decided to be honest with himself concerning his desire for a life with her reincarnation. Nor would she be especially thrilled to learn of his change of heart. He shuddered just thinking about that potential confrontation. But he had to wonder, was the remorse he felt concerning Kikyou born of guilt, or merely sadness?
There was no doubt that he felt genuinely sorry for her. She had a tragic past, and had died far too young, without being able to experience hardly any of the joy which made life in this bleak, desolate world worth living. He liked to think that he’d given her a small taste of happiness, during the short time they’d spent together. There was still much he would give of himself in order to make her happy. But not his life, nor his future. Those no longer belonged to her.
His life…didn’t belong to Kikyou. That was a novel concept, at least to him. Not to anyone else; his friends had been subtly trying to convince him of its truthfulness for months. While he’d been stuck on his self-manufactured guilt, those closest to him believed he should have forgiven himself for his part in Kikyou’s death ages ago. It still pained him to think of it, the tragedy which had befallen them. They’d both been tricked by Naraku, hurt and loneliness driving them to revert to their old selves. He’d selfishly tried to take the Shikon no Tama, and Kikyou had stopped him, as any miko would be expected to do. They both shared equal blame for falling victim to Naraku’s ruse, for never allowing their relationship to progress to a point where such deception would fail. After her resurrection, he’d nevertheless placed the lion’s share of the culpability upon his own shoulders, perhaps a consequence of elevating Kikyou atop an unrealistic pedestal. But her recent behavior toward Kagome had made it easier for him to see her in a less favorable light. Kikyou had changed. The version who had walked the earth before vanishing at Mount Hakurei was not the same woman he’d fallen for fifty years ago. The kind, lonely soul he’d known had succumbed to bitterness and hatred. He firmly believed that the true Kikyou still existed, that her heart had not been entirely corrupted. But that Kikyou was gone, and he didn’t expect to see her again anytime soon. Which begged the question–if Kikyou was just as much at fault for her death as he was, and she was reduced to barely a shell of her former self…why did he have to die for her?
He groaned, deciding to stop asking rhetorical questions which made him feel stupid. In his defense, he hadn’t exactly started on this emotional journey in a state of divine tranquility. To the contrary, he’d been pretty damn screwed up back then. It had taken weeks after his revival for Kagome to make any progress in getting him to open up at all, progress which had quickly been obliterated due to Kikyou’s resurrection. His dark past had literally come back to haunt him, completely frying his emotional compass and turning his rational mind into mush. So he would try not to be too hard on himself, so long as things turned out the way he hoped. If he could free Kagome from Naraku’s clutches, he knew that she would forgive him for being so blind. Then, and only then, would he forgive himself.
In the meantime, he would carry on, pushing forward with all of his willpower. And if he did happen to meet Kikyou, this time he would inform her of his decision. His heart clenched, reminding him of his sympathy, which had in no way diminished. Kikyou hadn’t deserved the suffering fate had beset upon her. She was a good person, and should have been afforded the happiness enjoyed by countless people much less admirable than herself. He would still do what he could to help her. If she came to him, he would not refuse to meet with her. If she wanted a sympathetic ear, he would listen without complaint. If she asked something reasonable of him which was within his power to give, he would comply without hesitation. She deserved no less. But she did not deserve his life, and he would never again let her take him away from where he truly belonged.
A sudden gust of wind inside the cave broke him from his musings, carrying with it a scent which immediately set his nerves to firing. He jumped up and grasped Tetsusaiga’s hilt as a familiar face peeked into the cave entrance.
“Finally awake, eh Inuyasha?” she observed with an amused grin.
“Kagura! What the hell are you doing here? Why didn’t you go back with Naraku?”
Grimacing, she dismounted her feather and stepped fully into the entrance. “You caught me with your first diamond spear attack,” she stated with an edge of annoyance to her tone, lifting her arm so he could see the jagged hole in the right side of her kimono. The flesh underneath had fully healed, but judging by the damage to her clothing, Kagura had taken a serious hit.
“That fuckin’ hurt,” she added, though it didn’t seem like she had revenge on her mind. “By the time I recovered, Naraku was already gone.”
“Heh, so you’re stuck here too, huh?” Inuyasha deduced with a smirk, relaxing his stance. Whatever Kagura’s intentions were in visiting him, they didn’t appear to be violent. She certainly could have attacked him in his sleep if she’d wanted to. He liked to think that he would have woken in time to defend himself, but was glad she’d decided not to test his reflexes.
“Pretty much,” she answered casually, confirming his theory.
“So what happens now?”
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. I was hoping you knew something I didn’t.”
“Like a way out of here? Sorry, but we’re both shit outta luck.”
“Damn. Oh, well,” she replied with a sigh, “then I guess we just wait for Naraku to find another pathway.”
“We?” Inuyasha repeated incredulously.
“You’re stuck with me, Inuyasha, whether you like it or not. Naraku’s too damn obsessed with the jewel to leave you here with a piece of it. I stick by you, and maybe I get to go back to the world of the living. Because that bastard definitely won’t go out of his way to help me.”
While Inuyasha wasn’t initially thrilled with the prospect of Kagura tagging along with him, he knew there was little he could do about it. Trying to chase her off would take a lot of effort and would likely prove futile anyway. Not to mention completely pointless, since he had no real reason to drive her away. Kagura didn’t seem to want to fight, and neither did he. If she was willing to be civil, he would reciprocate. Besides, even having the wind sorceress for company sounded better than wandering alone in this graveyard.
“Keh, do whatever you want. I’m finding my own way out.”
“Tch, overconfident as always. Are you thinking of the gateway we were at before?” Kagura inquired dryly. “Sorry, but I already tried it. That thing won’t open from the inside.”
“Maybe for you,” Inuyasha retorted. “It will open for Tetsusaiga.”
Kagura still looked skeptical, but made no further attempt to dissuade him from his purpose. It was a short journey to the gateway, with Inuyasha catching a ride on one of the skeletal birds and Kagura following on her feather. She didn’t offer him a ride, and he wouldn’t have accepted anyway. In the end, the entire endeavor proved an exercise in frustration. No matter what he and Tetsusaiga threw at the gate, it wouldn’t budge. At least Kagura knew better than to rub it in. The flight back was uncomfortably silent, each party equally disappointed.
“Damn, that’s one big bastard,” Kagura muttered during the final approach, eyeing the massive skeleton looming up before them.
“That’s my oyaji.”
Her eyes went comically wide. “Your…wow. Sorry.”
“Keh, it’s fine. He is a big bastard. I never knew him. He gave me Tetsusaiga and my fire-rat, but that’s about it.” Inuyasha intended to speak dismissively, but there was a certain sadness in his tone which he couldn’t quite cover up. His bitterness against his father had softened over the years, especially since his reawakening. He no longer hated the Inu no Taisho for leaving him and his mother alone in that cursed village. Something about having people who cared about him helped to heal old wounds.
Kagura frowned curiously. “Does Sesshoumaru have a form like that too?”
“Yep.”
“That would be pretty interesting to see.”
“Keh, it’s not that impressive. How do you think that asshole lost his arm?”
She turned to regard him contemplatively. “I always wondered about that. Was it your doing?”
Inuyasha nodded. “It was either that or get Kagome and myself killed. Even back then, I was driven to protect her,” he reflected with a genuine smile, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. Kagura said nothing, instead descending to land on a convenient rock ledge with a thoughtful expression on her face. She reclined against the rock and closed her eyes with a sigh. Inuyasha hesitated for a moment, then moved to join her. He sat down perhaps a meter or two away, eyeing her warily. This was odd, carrying on a conversation with an enemy, but not unpleasant. But then, Kagura wasn’t really an enemy anymore, was she?
“Thank you,” he said quietly, causing her to blink at him in confusion.
“For what?”
“You said you would watch out for Kagome. She and the baby are still alive.”
“Tch, I didn’t really do anything. I told you already, I couldn’t stop them from hurting her if I wanted to.”
Inuyasha nodded; he understood Kagura’s limitations but was still grateful to have someone on the inside looking out for his beloved woman and child. It did make him wonder though…if Naraku held Kagura’s heart in his hands, why was she still alive?
“Why hasn’t Naraku killed you?” he asked, immediately cringing at his lack of tact. Fortunately, Kagura took no offense.
“Probably because I don’t know anything about his plans. I could talk to you for days and you’d never learn a thing. Although…there is one thing which you might find interesting,” she stated, looking around reflexively as if to make sure her master wasn’t listening. “The infant controlling Kagome’s body wants to betray Naraku too.”
“He does?” Now that was interesting. If Hakago was keen on liberating himself from Naraku, then perhaps he could be ‘persuaded’ to leave Kagome unharmed once the dark hanyou was dead? It was an intriguing possibility, and Inuyasha could only consider this revelation to be good news.
“Don’t go thinking that little cretin is on your side,” Kagura told him, perhaps sensing the direction of his thoughts. “He’s as twisted and sadistic as Naraku. I wouldn’t trust either one of them if I were you.”
“Oh, but I can trust you?”
Kagura smirked mischievously. “Of course you can.”
Inuyasha scoffed and shook his head. The funny thing, however, was that he did trust Kagura. Not as he trusted his friends, obviously, but enough to be sitting here with her carrying on a casual conversation. Enough to honestly believe that she would play a role in defeating Naraku and returning Kagome to his arms.
The unlikely pair lapsed into companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Kagura broke the peace with a wistful sigh.
“What’s it like, knowing you’re gonna be a father? I bet you’re scared shitless.”
“I used to be,” he answered honestly, remembering Kagome’s comforting words to him in the well house all those weeks ago. “Now I just worry about getting them back. Kagome and I can figure out the rest.”
“Well, that’s a very mature attitude, Inuyasha.”
“You mocking me, wench?”
“Yes. What’re you gonna do about it?”
Inuyasha chuckled, deciding he was ‘mature’ enough to refrain from rising to that challenge. Fighting was clearly the last thing on either of their minds right now, despite Kagura’s teasing. He would not, however, let a comment like that go without a suitable response.
“Why are you asking about that, anyway? Lookin’ to get knocked up yourself?”
Kagura glanced at him in surprise, then smirked in amusement. “If you’re propositioning me, you can go to hell. I’d rather fuck the little toad-thing that follows your brother around.”
“Keh, I don’t think Jaken would be too thrilled about that. And I wouldn’t fuck you even if you begged me for it.”
“Don’t hold your breath on that one. The fact that you found one woman willing to lie with you is mindboggling. Kagome must be messed up in the head.”
Inuyasha grimaced, that last comment having hit a sore spot though Kagura obviously hadn’t intended it to. She’d merely been teasing, but her statement was true–it really was amazing that he’d found a woman willing to be with him. Kagura’s comment had probably been more directed toward his personality than his hanyou heritage, but neither should have been very attractive to members of the opposite gender. Normally they weren’t. But Kagome wasn’t normal; she was once in a lifetime. If he lost her, he would never find love again, even if he wanted to.
“You’ll get her back,” Kagura stated quietly, sensing the shift in his mood. Inuyasha looked over to find her gazing at him confidently, and he could tell that she honestly believed her words.
“Thanks,” he told her, his spirits buoyed by her faith. He would return to the living world and slay Naraku. And when the evil which had destroyed countless lives was finally vanquished, he would hold Kagome in his arms again. That was no dream; it was a promise.
* * *
Sango rocked slowly back and forth, unable to
refrain from fidgeting. Petting Kirara in her lap provided some
comfort, but her nerves were completely shot. Still, she managed to
hold herself together, just barely, as she’d been doing for
more than a full day. Dusk was fast approaching now, and still
Miroku lay unconscious, his breathing fitful and shallow. It was
hard to believe that just over twenty-four hours ago, her beloved
Houshi-sama had been hale and healthy, full of vitality. And not
lying on the floor of some rundown abandoned hut, fighting for his
very life.
One thing was for sure: she had gained a new appreciation for what Inuyasha had gone through after they’d been poisoned by Mukotsu. The sense of helplessness was the worst part, knowing that there was literally nothing she could do except wait and pray. Still, she tried to be optimistic. They had already been extremely fortunate in at least one respect, namely the presence of Inuyasha’s diminutive vassal. After their retreat from the battle, which Naraku had undoubtedly allowed so Sango could watch her beloved suffer an agonizing death, Myouga had directed her to find shelter as quickly as possible. Luck had led them to this hut within a few minutes, as Miroku’s life faded before her eyes. Then the flea had sucked out as much of the poison as he dared, before declaring that to take any more would condemn the monk to death by blood loss.
‘Whether he lives is in his own hands now, and the Kami’s.’ Those were Myouga’s words, though Sango had descended into a state of deep shock by that point. Her entire world narrowed to the rise and fall of his chest, her heart starting and stopping with the irregularity of his breathing. She hadn’t even been aware of Myouga and Shippou leaving, until they returned with a potion which would help to restore Miroku’s health, if he could survive the poison still coursing through his bloodstream. Even then, she had barely acknowledged them beyond taking the offered plastic bottle. It wasn’t until a few hours ago, when Miroku’s condition started to noticeably improve, that she came back to herself. At last she realized that she was not the only one suffering.
Shippou had remained by her side throughout this ordeal, providing comfort with his presence alone, and had also helped Myouga gather the ingredients for the restorative potion. The flea, who had obviously played the greatest role in assuring Miroku’s continued existence, had disappeared late last night. Sango couldn’t begin to guess the reason for his departure, but she would not begrudge him for it. As he said, Miroku’s life was in his own hands now, and in the Kami’s.
Motion to her left drew her attention, and she turned to see Shippou’s head snap up, only to sink down again as his eyes drooped against his will. He was desperately trying to stay awake, probably for her sake, but it was obviously a losing battle. Sango smiled for the first time since yesterday afternoon. It was just a tiny upturn of her lips, but it was completely genuine. She thought back to what she had learned of the battle against the Shichinintai at the temple, and how Shippou had saved all of them from the fire. He was so courageous under pressure, and at times seemed to possess more wisdom and maturity than certain other members of the group. It was easy to forget how young he was, that he was just a child, an orphan who hadn’t been held by his mother in years. Sango knew no one could replace the woman who had given birth to him and raised him into a fine young man, but for today, she would do her best. Scooting over to him, she gently scooped him up in her arms and held him as she would an infant. He gazed up at her briefly, his eyes unfocused due to fatigue, and relaxed completely. Within seconds, he was sleeping soundly in her arms.
A few rogue tears slipped down Sango’s cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. Someday, I will hold Houshi-sama’s child like this. There were a daunting number of ‘ifs’ to satisfy before that dream could become a reality, however. If he survived the night, if he recovered from the poison, if his kazaana didn’t consume him, if Naraku could be killed, if… The uncertainty was overwhelming. But she would continue to press on, to take one goal at a time. Seeing Miroku through the night was the only thing that mattered right now.
“S-Sango…”
She gasped at his voice, so weak, yet just the sound sent a surge of hope through her. She was disappointed to discover that he was not awake, but was merely talking in his sleep. She consoled herself with the knowledge that his condition was improving. Up until now, he’d been unconscious. Now, he seemed to be genuinely sleeping, which was cause for optimism in itself. Even his fever had gone down; his brow no longer sweat profusely, though she still kept the cold compress there. This is how Inuyasha must have felt after Renkotsu gave us the antidote. Daring to hope, yet still fearing the worst.
Miroku mumbled her name again, this time in a husky tone which had Sango flushing despite herself. But though she was beyond embarrassed, she took comfort in the possibility that he was starting to feel like his old self again, at least mentally. She was nevertheless extremely grateful when he settled down and made no further sounds to indicate continued dreams of a sensual nature. If she was being honest with herself, she was very happy that he dreamt of her in such a manner, rather than some other woman. But she was in no mood to enjoy the knowledge that he fantasized about her. At least not until he was well again.
It happened a few hours later, as the crickets chirped in the darkness outside, and the light from her hastily-constructed fire cast the room in deep shadow. Miroku stirred, then hissed in discomfort. He opened his eyes and gazed blankly up at the ceiling for a moment, as if silently wondering how he was still alive. Then he turned to regard her, a certain level of awe leaking into his expression. He closed his eyes and smiled softly, and when he opened them again, his gaze was filled with deep emotion.
“I’m sorry, Sango,” he rasped. “I’ve made you cry again for my sake.”
Sango choked back a sob. More tears broke free of the dams which held them back, but she didn’t care. This man was someone she didn’t have to be afraid to show weakness to. She didn’t have to constantly be the strong, unshakable warrior. He had seen her at her lowest moments, and then asked her to live with him and bear his children. And it seemed that she was still going to have the opportunity to do just that. It was for this reason that she was able to smile through her tears, and find her voice.
“Don’t apologize, Houshi-sama. What you did…it was–”
“Reckless and foolhardy?”
“No! I mean, yes, but…what you almost gave up for Inuyasha and Kagome-chan…it was really noble. I can’t fault you for it.”
He sighed. “It is a relief to hear you say that, Sango. Honestly…it is a relief to still be here. I did not expect…to see you again.”
Sango sniffled, but launched into a brief explanation of how he had survived Naraku’s poison, highlighting the contributions of Myouga and Shippou.
“I will have to thank both of them later,” he replied, eyeing the slumbering kitsune in her arms. “Do you know where Myouga ran off to?” At the shake of her head, he shrugged, or tried to before grimacing in discomfort. Moving around was certainly not going to be fun for a while. But considering how much of a blessing it was to still be at Sango’s side, he wouldn’t complain.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” he replied with a wry grin. “Though I’ve also been worse.” He wasn’t sure that last part was entirely true, but he’d said it for Sango’s sake. He just hoped she didn’t press his memory to name a specific instance.
She didn’t look like she really believed him, but she let it go. Her relief was a palpable thing, and once more he felt remorse for causing her so much sorrow. He tried to raise his arm to wipe her tears away, but it only rose about half a meter off the floor and hung there trembling, refusing to go any higher. Sango caught his hand with her free one just before he let it drop, settling both comfortably in her lap. Kirara nuzzled and licked his fingers, and he relaxed fully, content despite how lousy he felt. Sango squeezed his hand tightly, but it did not prevent his mind from wandering. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was incredible agony, and the knowledge that Sango’s plaintive cry of his name was the last time he was ever going to hear her voice. If he had died like that, he was pretty sure his soul would have had a difficult time finding nirvana. But he had no regrets concerning his final actions; he would give his life for Inuyasha or Kagome, just as they would do for him.
He was obviously pleased that his intended self-sacrifice had been averted. He hadn’t comprehended his salvation until waking up just a few minutes ago. But before that, he’d had some rather vivid experiences. Those dreams had been special, on many levels. He glanced at Sango, wondering if he should share. She seemed incredibly happy to see him recovering, obviously, but her expression was guarded, as if she couldn’t bring herself to truly rejoice yet. He decided to give her something to take her mind off of his sorry state, something which might assure her that he was really all right.
“While I was asleep, I saw something…interesting.”
Sango barely managed to refrain from groaning. She so did not want to hear about this right now! But she didn’t have the heart to stop him from saying whatever he wanted to, so she vowed to focus on the fact that he was well again. Hopefully his little story didn’t completely destroy the mood, though Sango wasn’t optimistic.
“I dreamt that I was asking your father for your hand.”
It took Sango a moment to wrap her head around those words, since they were so far from what she’d anticipated. Judging by his slightly smug expression, he knew exactly what she’d expected him to say. In truth, he really had enjoyed one of those dreams too. But there was a time and place for everything, and describing a beautiful love dream with Sango didn’t seem like the best idea while he was lying on what, but for some fortunate circumstances, might have been his deathbed. Besides, he honestly wasn’t sure which dream was more special to him, though he was pretty sure he knew which one Sango would most enjoy.
“Wh-what did my father say?” she asked breathlessly, just the reaction Miroku was looking for.
“He said ‘yes,’ of course. That it was a great honor to have such a handsome and noble son-in-law.” When Sango arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him, Miroku shrugged helplessly. “Well, it was only a dream, after all.”
Sango rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. It was a fantasy, you mean. Handsome? Maybe, but I don’t know why my father would care about that. Noble? In some aspects, yes, but not in others.
“What did my father look like?” she inquired, curious to see just how ridiculous this ‘dream’ of his had become.
“Uh…a large, bald man with a moustache?”
Sango couldn’t stop herself from laughing at that. The man Miroku had just described looked nothing like her father. He did, however, closely resemble the monk Mushin, who had served as Miroku’s most recent father figure. A student of the human mind might have a field day with that one. Sango didn’t care about that, but she did desire to set the record straight with respect to her real father.
“Well, you got the moustache part right, at least. But my father wasn’t large or bald. He would have approved of you though…eventually. If you behaved yourself and let him see the real you. He would have had a few stern words for you before giving you permission to marry me though. There might have been a threat issued too, which would not have been empty. My father was a kind man, but if you were foolish enough to anger him…”
Miroku chuckled nervously. “The man who raised you possessed a temper, Sango? I can’t imagine.”
The taijiya narrowed her eyes at the hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. “Something you want to say, Houshi-sama?”
“Nothing.”
“Good.&# 8221;
She favored him with a stern look, but inside she was smirking. So she had a bit if a temper…okay, more than a bit. She liked to think it was one of the reasons Miroku saw her differently from other women. Besides, a temper was probably necessary to keep his lecherous behind in line.
He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his suddenly serious expression. “I am glad that you think your father would have approved of me, Sango.”
“Me too,” she replied honestly, gazing into his eyes. For a few moments they were lost, completely captivated by each other.
“Kami, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, drawing color to her cheeks. In all honestly, Sango was sure she looked like hell. She hadn’t slept in almost two full days, and she’d been crying. Even so, that Miroku would still tell her she was beautiful in that tone of voice, with that particular expression on his face…it meant a lot. It spoke of an appreciation of inner beauty, which coming from a man normally so preoccupied with outer beauty, was truly special. Sango wondered how to respond to his romantic words. She knew what her heart desired, but she had never been so forward before. Though her nerves flared, she tamped them down, for once resolving to push her own boundaries. Because as the past twenty-four hours had shown her, any moment with Miroku might be their last.
She leaned over him and set Shippou down against his side, Miroku having shifted his arm to form a comfortable bed for the kit. The little fox stirred, but did not wake. Instead of sitting up, however, Sango shifted her body so she was leaning more fully over Miroku, their noses fairly close to touching. The monk’s eyes widened, a mixture of hope and longing swimming in his dark orbs. But beyond everything, there was love, which encouraged Sango to close the distance between them.
Her first thought as their lips made contact was ‘I should have done this ages ago.’ How could something which she had dreaded, something which she in her shyness had feared, feel so right? Time became incomprehensible, as their lips pressed together, shifting languidly in time with their breathing. Soon, however, Miroku’s natural tendencies made themselves known. His hand came to rest on her lower back, pulling her close, as his lips parted and his tongue began teasing beseechingly at her entrance. There was a little voice in the back of her head telling her that she should pull away immediately, and maybe slap him for good measure, but Sango ignored it. She unconsciously pressed her body more firmly against his own as she opened her mouth. Still not entirely sure of herself, she allowed him to lead her, to coax her into further deepening the kiss. She groaned softly, just a tiny sound at the back of her throat, as her body began to tingle in that delightful way which only resulted from touching him.
Then he was gone, and Sango slowly blinked her eyes open to the sound of heavy breathing. He had turned his head to the side and was inhaling great gulps of air as rapidly as he could, a wounded man suffering from shortness of breath far more acutely than he normally would. Sango pulled back into a kneeling position, instantly remorseful and intensely embarrassed for failing to remember his condition.
“I’m so sorry, Houshi-sama. Are you all right?”
He made a sound which she thought might have been attempted laughter. “Sango…you kiss me like that…and then apologize? Believe me…a little loss of breath was worth it.”
Sango blushed and looked away. One would think that a comment as innocuous as that one wouldn’t fluster her now, but the almost complete lack of lechery in his tone was warming her in an entirely pleasant way. It was as though the intimacy itself held less meaning for him than the fact that he had shared it with her.
“Please tell me…we can do that again…when I’m feeling better.”
He spoke with the same awestruck tone, but still Sango bit her lip, unsure of what to say. On the one hand, she didn’t regret the kiss even though he had taken it much farther than she’d originally intended. She had very much been along for the ride, and wouldn’t mind engaging in similar activities in the future. This is part of what scared her, that they would end up going too far and do something they’d regret. Beyond that, her persistent doubts concerning his fidelity refused to be ignored. Not two weeks ago, he’d gone off with some stranger from the village of oni-women. Granted, that was before he’d proposed to her, but still… Had anything really changed? What would he do, the next time his faithfulness was tested? And did her acceptance or refusal to be intimate with him have any bearing on how likely he was to remain faithful to her?
“Sango?”
She looked at him, allowing him to see the uncertainty swimming in her eyes, uncertainty which he had caused. He sighed in self-reproach, then clasped her hand gently where it rested on her knee.
“Sango, if you want to wait until we’re married, then I will wait. It won’t change how I feel about you. But…if you wanted to be intimate–and I know we can only go so far–then…I think it would be really special.”
Sango felt a smile come unbidden to her lips. He seemed so sincere, that she couldn’t help but believe him despite her reservations. This was the man she intended to spend her life with; perhaps it was time to trust him. And in that trust, perhaps he would find the willpower to resist temptation. Still, the prospect of being ‘intimate’ with him was as unnerving as it was exciting, and she wasn’t ready to give an affirmative response just yet.
“W-we’ll see, Houshi-sama…when you’re feeling better.”
Far from being disappointed, Miroku appeared thrilled that she hadn’t responded in the negative. “Then I shall have to get well as quickly as possible.”
“Hm, and speaking of…drink this,” she told him, handing him the plastic bottle containing Myouga’s restorative potion. She had been slowly feeding it to him while he slept, so it was more than half empty. She would make him drink the rest before he went back to sleep, and then open a fresh bottle tomorrow. Myouga had made plenty, a fact which would soon be to Miroku’s chagrin. She’d tried a taste of it herself once out of curiosity, and would not be doing so again. The stuff was nasty, but as long as it worked, she didn’t care. And since she had unintentionally given Miroku even more of a reason to recover quickly, she didn’t think he would complain too much.
“Is this the reason I woke with a foul taste in my mouth,” he asked, eyeing the bottle warily.
“Yes. Myouga made it, so it must work. Drink.”
He sighed, then took a swig, and Sango giggled at the face he made. “What is this stuff?!”
“It’s probably better if you don’t know.”
“Fair enough,” he replied with a grimace, before taking another swig. In a few minutes the bottle was empty, and after getting him some water to rinse the awful taste out of his mouth, Sango began preparations to settle down for the night. She helped Miroku sit up so he could relieve himself, since she certainly wasn’t allowing him to get up. She felt guilty for using some of Kagome’s cookware for the task, but there was no other adequately-sized container available, and she would wash it thoroughly in the morning. Afterwards Miroku lay down and closed his eyes, seemingly exhausted by that simple effort. It was a reminder that although his life was no longer truly in danger, it would take some time for him to recover fully.
Sango’s own fatigue hit her as she was walking back inside from taking care of her own business. Groggily she spread out her sleeping roll and crawled inside. The last thing she did before closing her eyes was cover Miroku and Shippou with the flap of Kagome’s sleeping bag, which had served as the monk’s bedding since yesterday. Just before unconsciousness claimed her, she felt a touch of warmth against her hand, feather light. She clasped Miroku’s hand and squeezed gently, grinning as he reciprocated. Then, at last, she drifted off to sweet dreams.
One thing was for sure: she had gained a new appreciation for what Inuyasha had gone through after they’d been poisoned by Mukotsu. The sense of helplessness was the worst part, knowing that there was literally nothing she could do except wait and pray. Still, she tried to be optimistic. They had already been extremely fortunate in at least one respect, namely the presence of Inuyasha’s diminutive vassal. After their retreat from the battle, which Naraku had undoubtedly allowed so Sango could watch her beloved suffer an agonizing death, Myouga had directed her to find shelter as quickly as possible. Luck had led them to this hut within a few minutes, as Miroku’s life faded before her eyes. Then the flea had sucked out as much of the poison as he dared, before declaring that to take any more would condemn the monk to death by blood loss.
‘Whether he lives is in his own hands now, and the Kami’s.’ Those were Myouga’s words, though Sango had descended into a state of deep shock by that point. Her entire world narrowed to the rise and fall of his chest, her heart starting and stopping with the irregularity of his breathing. She hadn’t even been aware of Myouga and Shippou leaving, until they returned with a potion which would help to restore Miroku’s health, if he could survive the poison still coursing through his bloodstream. Even then, she had barely acknowledged them beyond taking the offered plastic bottle. It wasn’t until a few hours ago, when Miroku’s condition started to noticeably improve, that she came back to herself. At last she realized that she was not the only one suffering.
Shippou had remained by her side throughout this ordeal, providing comfort with his presence alone, and had also helped Myouga gather the ingredients for the restorative potion. The flea, who had obviously played the greatest role in assuring Miroku’s continued existence, had disappeared late last night. Sango couldn’t begin to guess the reason for his departure, but she would not begrudge him for it. As he said, Miroku’s life was in his own hands now, and in the Kami’s.
Motion to her left drew her attention, and she turned to see Shippou’s head snap up, only to sink down again as his eyes drooped against his will. He was desperately trying to stay awake, probably for her sake, but it was obviously a losing battle. Sango smiled for the first time since yesterday afternoon. It was just a tiny upturn of her lips, but it was completely genuine. She thought back to what she had learned of the battle against the Shichinintai at the temple, and how Shippou had saved all of them from the fire. He was so courageous under pressure, and at times seemed to possess more wisdom and maturity than certain other members of the group. It was easy to forget how young he was, that he was just a child, an orphan who hadn’t been held by his mother in years. Sango knew no one could replace the woman who had given birth to him and raised him into a fine young man, but for today, she would do her best. Scooting over to him, she gently scooped him up in her arms and held him as she would an infant. He gazed up at her briefly, his eyes unfocused due to fatigue, and relaxed completely. Within seconds, he was sleeping soundly in her arms.
A few rogue tears slipped down Sango’s cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. Someday, I will hold Houshi-sama’s child like this. There were a daunting number of ‘ifs’ to satisfy before that dream could become a reality, however. If he survived the night, if he recovered from the poison, if his kazaana didn’t consume him, if Naraku could be killed, if… The uncertainty was overwhelming. But she would continue to press on, to take one goal at a time. Seeing Miroku through the night was the only thing that mattered right now.
“S-Sango…”
She gasped at his voice, so weak, yet just the sound sent a surge of hope through her. She was disappointed to discover that he was not awake, but was merely talking in his sleep. She consoled herself with the knowledge that his condition was improving. Up until now, he’d been unconscious. Now, he seemed to be genuinely sleeping, which was cause for optimism in itself. Even his fever had gone down; his brow no longer sweat profusely, though she still kept the cold compress there. This is how Inuyasha must have felt after Renkotsu gave us the antidote. Daring to hope, yet still fearing the worst.
Miroku mumbled her name again, this time in a husky tone which had Sango flushing despite herself. But though she was beyond embarrassed, she took comfort in the possibility that he was starting to feel like his old self again, at least mentally. She was nevertheless extremely grateful when he settled down and made no further sounds to indicate continued dreams of a sensual nature. If she was being honest with herself, she was very happy that he dreamt of her in such a manner, rather than some other woman. But she was in no mood to enjoy the knowledge that he fantasized about her. At least not until he was well again.
It happened a few hours later, as the crickets chirped in the darkness outside, and the light from her hastily-constructed fire cast the room in deep shadow. Miroku stirred, then hissed in discomfort. He opened his eyes and gazed blankly up at the ceiling for a moment, as if silently wondering how he was still alive. Then he turned to regard her, a certain level of awe leaking into his expression. He closed his eyes and smiled softly, and when he opened them again, his gaze was filled with deep emotion.
“I’m sorry, Sango,” he rasped. “I’ve made you cry again for my sake.”
Sango choked back a sob. More tears broke free of the dams which held them back, but she didn’t care. This man was someone she didn’t have to be afraid to show weakness to. She didn’t have to constantly be the strong, unshakable warrior. He had seen her at her lowest moments, and then asked her to live with him and bear his children. And it seemed that she was still going to have the opportunity to do just that. It was for this reason that she was able to smile through her tears, and find her voice.
“Don’t apologize, Houshi-sama. What you did…it was–”
“Reckless and foolhardy?”
“No! I mean, yes, but…what you almost gave up for Inuyasha and Kagome-chan…it was really noble. I can’t fault you for it.”
He sighed. “It is a relief to hear you say that, Sango. Honestly…it is a relief to still be here. I did not expect…to see you again.”
Sango sniffled, but launched into a brief explanation of how he had survived Naraku’s poison, highlighting the contributions of Myouga and Shippou.
“I will have to thank both of them later,” he replied, eyeing the slumbering kitsune in her arms. “Do you know where Myouga ran off to?” At the shake of her head, he shrugged, or tried to before grimacing in discomfort. Moving around was certainly not going to be fun for a while. But considering how much of a blessing it was to still be at Sango’s side, he wouldn’t complain.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” he replied with a wry grin. “Though I’ve also been worse.” He wasn’t sure that last part was entirely true, but he’d said it for Sango’s sake. He just hoped she didn’t press his memory to name a specific instance.
She didn’t look like she really believed him, but she let it go. Her relief was a palpable thing, and once more he felt remorse for causing her so much sorrow. He tried to raise his arm to wipe her tears away, but it only rose about half a meter off the floor and hung there trembling, refusing to go any higher. Sango caught his hand with her free one just before he let it drop, settling both comfortably in her lap. Kirara nuzzled and licked his fingers, and he relaxed fully, content despite how lousy he felt. Sango squeezed his hand tightly, but it did not prevent his mind from wandering. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was incredible agony, and the knowledge that Sango’s plaintive cry of his name was the last time he was ever going to hear her voice. If he had died like that, he was pretty sure his soul would have had a difficult time finding nirvana. But he had no regrets concerning his final actions; he would give his life for Inuyasha or Kagome, just as they would do for him.
He was obviously pleased that his intended self-sacrifice had been averted. He hadn’t comprehended his salvation until waking up just a few minutes ago. But before that, he’d had some rather vivid experiences. Those dreams had been special, on many levels. He glanced at Sango, wondering if he should share. She seemed incredibly happy to see him recovering, obviously, but her expression was guarded, as if she couldn’t bring herself to truly rejoice yet. He decided to give her something to take her mind off of his sorry state, something which might assure her that he was really all right.
“While I was asleep, I saw something…interesting.”
Sango barely managed to refrain from groaning. She so did not want to hear about this right now! But she didn’t have the heart to stop him from saying whatever he wanted to, so she vowed to focus on the fact that he was well again. Hopefully his little story didn’t completely destroy the mood, though Sango wasn’t optimistic.
“I dreamt that I was asking your father for your hand.”
It took Sango a moment to wrap her head around those words, since they were so far from what she’d anticipated. Judging by his slightly smug expression, he knew exactly what she’d expected him to say. In truth, he really had enjoyed one of those dreams too. But there was a time and place for everything, and describing a beautiful love dream with Sango didn’t seem like the best idea while he was lying on what, but for some fortunate circumstances, might have been his deathbed. Besides, he honestly wasn’t sure which dream was more special to him, though he was pretty sure he knew which one Sango would most enjoy.
“Wh-what did my father say?” she asked breathlessly, just the reaction Miroku was looking for.
“He said ‘yes,’ of course. That it was a great honor to have such a handsome and noble son-in-law.” When Sango arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him, Miroku shrugged helplessly. “Well, it was only a dream, after all.”
Sango rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. It was a fantasy, you mean. Handsome? Maybe, but I don’t know why my father would care about that. Noble? In some aspects, yes, but not in others.
“What did my father look like?” she inquired, curious to see just how ridiculous this ‘dream’ of his had become.
“Uh…a large, bald man with a moustache?”
Sango couldn’t stop herself from laughing at that. The man Miroku had just described looked nothing like her father. He did, however, closely resemble the monk Mushin, who had served as Miroku’s most recent father figure. A student of the human mind might have a field day with that one. Sango didn’t care about that, but she did desire to set the record straight with respect to her real father.
“Well, you got the moustache part right, at least. But my father wasn’t large or bald. He would have approved of you though…eventually. If you behaved yourself and let him see the real you. He would have had a few stern words for you before giving you permission to marry me though. There might have been a threat issued too, which would not have been empty. My father was a kind man, but if you were foolish enough to anger him…”
Miroku chuckled nervously. “The man who raised you possessed a temper, Sango? I can’t imagine.”
The taijiya narrowed her eyes at the hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. “Something you want to say, Houshi-sama?”
“Nothing.”
“Good.&# 8221;
She favored him with a stern look, but inside she was smirking. So she had a bit if a temper…okay, more than a bit. She liked to think it was one of the reasons Miroku saw her differently from other women. Besides, a temper was probably necessary to keep his lecherous behind in line.
He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his suddenly serious expression. “I am glad that you think your father would have approved of me, Sango.”
“Me too,” she replied honestly, gazing into his eyes. For a few moments they were lost, completely captivated by each other.
“Kami, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, drawing color to her cheeks. In all honestly, Sango was sure she looked like hell. She hadn’t slept in almost two full days, and she’d been crying. Even so, that Miroku would still tell her she was beautiful in that tone of voice, with that particular expression on his face…it meant a lot. It spoke of an appreciation of inner beauty, which coming from a man normally so preoccupied with outer beauty, was truly special. Sango wondered how to respond to his romantic words. She knew what her heart desired, but she had never been so forward before. Though her nerves flared, she tamped them down, for once resolving to push her own boundaries. Because as the past twenty-four hours had shown her, any moment with Miroku might be their last.
She leaned over him and set Shippou down against his side, Miroku having shifted his arm to form a comfortable bed for the kit. The little fox stirred, but did not wake. Instead of sitting up, however, Sango shifted her body so she was leaning more fully over Miroku, their noses fairly close to touching. The monk’s eyes widened, a mixture of hope and longing swimming in his dark orbs. But beyond everything, there was love, which encouraged Sango to close the distance between them.
Her first thought as their lips made contact was ‘I should have done this ages ago.’ How could something which she had dreaded, something which she in her shyness had feared, feel so right? Time became incomprehensible, as their lips pressed together, shifting languidly in time with their breathing. Soon, however, Miroku’s natural tendencies made themselves known. His hand came to rest on her lower back, pulling her close, as his lips parted and his tongue began teasing beseechingly at her entrance. There was a little voice in the back of her head telling her that she should pull away immediately, and maybe slap him for good measure, but Sango ignored it. She unconsciously pressed her body more firmly against his own as she opened her mouth. Still not entirely sure of herself, she allowed him to lead her, to coax her into further deepening the kiss. She groaned softly, just a tiny sound at the back of her throat, as her body began to tingle in that delightful way which only resulted from touching him.
Then he was gone, and Sango slowly blinked her eyes open to the sound of heavy breathing. He had turned his head to the side and was inhaling great gulps of air as rapidly as he could, a wounded man suffering from shortness of breath far more acutely than he normally would. Sango pulled back into a kneeling position, instantly remorseful and intensely embarrassed for failing to remember his condition.
“I’m so sorry, Houshi-sama. Are you all right?”
He made a sound which she thought might have been attempted laughter. “Sango…you kiss me like that…and then apologize? Believe me…a little loss of breath was worth it.”
Sango blushed and looked away. One would think that a comment as innocuous as that one wouldn’t fluster her now, but the almost complete lack of lechery in his tone was warming her in an entirely pleasant way. It was as though the intimacy itself held less meaning for him than the fact that he had shared it with her.
“Please tell me…we can do that again…when I’m feeling better.”
He spoke with the same awestruck tone, but still Sango bit her lip, unsure of what to say. On the one hand, she didn’t regret the kiss even though he had taken it much farther than she’d originally intended. She had very much been along for the ride, and wouldn’t mind engaging in similar activities in the future. This is part of what scared her, that they would end up going too far and do something they’d regret. Beyond that, her persistent doubts concerning his fidelity refused to be ignored. Not two weeks ago, he’d gone off with some stranger from the village of oni-women. Granted, that was before he’d proposed to her, but still… Had anything really changed? What would he do, the next time his faithfulness was tested? And did her acceptance or refusal to be intimate with him have any bearing on how likely he was to remain faithful to her?
“Sango?”
She looked at him, allowing him to see the uncertainty swimming in her eyes, uncertainty which he had caused. He sighed in self-reproach, then clasped her hand gently where it rested on her knee.
“Sango, if you want to wait until we’re married, then I will wait. It won’t change how I feel about you. But…if you wanted to be intimate–and I know we can only go so far–then…I think it would be really special.”
Sango felt a smile come unbidden to her lips. He seemed so sincere, that she couldn’t help but believe him despite her reservations. This was the man she intended to spend her life with; perhaps it was time to trust him. And in that trust, perhaps he would find the willpower to resist temptation. Still, the prospect of being ‘intimate’ with him was as unnerving as it was exciting, and she wasn’t ready to give an affirmative response just yet.
“W-we’ll see, Houshi-sama…when you’re feeling better.”
Far from being disappointed, Miroku appeared thrilled that she hadn’t responded in the negative. “Then I shall have to get well as quickly as possible.”
“Hm, and speaking of…drink this,” she told him, handing him the plastic bottle containing Myouga’s restorative potion. She had been slowly feeding it to him while he slept, so it was more than half empty. She would make him drink the rest before he went back to sleep, and then open a fresh bottle tomorrow. Myouga had made plenty, a fact which would soon be to Miroku’s chagrin. She’d tried a taste of it herself once out of curiosity, and would not be doing so again. The stuff was nasty, but as long as it worked, she didn’t care. And since she had unintentionally given Miroku even more of a reason to recover quickly, she didn’t think he would complain too much.
“Is this the reason I woke with a foul taste in my mouth,” he asked, eyeing the bottle warily.
“Yes. Myouga made it, so it must work. Drink.”
He sighed, then took a swig, and Sango giggled at the face he made. “What is this stuff?!”
“It’s probably better if you don’t know.”
“Fair enough,” he replied with a grimace, before taking another swig. In a few minutes the bottle was empty, and after getting him some water to rinse the awful taste out of his mouth, Sango began preparations to settle down for the night. She helped Miroku sit up so he could relieve himself, since she certainly wasn’t allowing him to get up. She felt guilty for using some of Kagome’s cookware for the task, but there was no other adequately-sized container available, and she would wash it thoroughly in the morning. Afterwards Miroku lay down and closed his eyes, seemingly exhausted by that simple effort. It was a reminder that although his life was no longer truly in danger, it would take some time for him to recover fully.
Sango’s own fatigue hit her as she was walking back inside from taking care of her own business. Groggily she spread out her sleeping roll and crawled inside. The last thing she did before closing her eyes was cover Miroku and Shippou with the flap of Kagome’s sleeping bag, which had served as the monk’s bedding since yesterday. Just before unconsciousness claimed her, she felt a touch of warmth against her hand, feather light. She clasped Miroku’s hand and squeezed gently, grinning as he reciprocated. Then, at last, she drifted off to sweet dreams.