InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Identity Crisis ❯ Chapter Eighteen ( Chapter 18 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: ladygriddlebone 
Bit by bit, truths are revealed, uncertainties made certain, and connections forged. Almost.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 09.27.2009 | Updated On: 03.27.2010 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 557 | Status: Completed
Bit by bit, truths are revealed, uncertainties made certain, and connections forged. Almost.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 09.27.2009 | Updated On: 03.27.2010 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 557 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Chapter Eighteen
As he made his way through the temple, Miroku's thoughts were dark. Maybe the curse of the wind tunnel went deeper than just the hole in his hand, he thought ruefully. It seemed that no matter what he tried to accomplish with Sango, it ended up having the wrong effect entirely.
He frowned. Well, at least now he knew she was interested. If nothing else, he had accomplished that much. One question answered… how many more until he could even begin to understand the way her mind worked?
Slowly, he made his way to the common room, a room that might have been used for meditation and the seeking of enlightenment were Mushin not in charge of the temple, where Inuyasha and Kagome were waiting.
Kagome looked up as he slid the door open. "She already left."
"Ah. Thank you," he said, stepping back out.
"Say, Miroku… what happened?"
"Just a small misunderstanding."
He closed the door behind him.
-----
The forest was peaceful. Dark and damp and quiet, save for the occasional birdsong or rustle as some small creature passed by, and the ever-present sounds of insects. This was a good place for a temple, Sango thought. It would be easy to meditate here, if only her anger would let her sit still.
She did not even know where to direct her anger. There were too many reasons for it. She was angry with Miroku, for wanting to put more space between them; she was still angry with Inuyasha for sending her on idiotic errands when Miroku was quite possibly dying; she was angry with Kagome for asking her to hide 'birth control' in her bag in the hopes that Inuyasha would not find it; and she was angry with herself for being so worked up over Miroku's suggestion that they back off and kill Naraku before getting too involved with each other.
She knew better than that. But, somehow, she had come to see him as a source of comfort during this horrible journey they were on. She felt that they had grown closer; she had trusted him completely. And, she grudgingly admitted, she had let that cloud her judgment. In the moment when he asked her to wait, she had actually felt betrayed.
The worst part was that Miroku was right. His argument made perfect sense. In a way, it explained a lot of the difficulties she had been having lately. She had been distracted and upset, and had let the situation get out of hand. She was letting might-have-beens and memories that were likely false get the better of her, even now.
When she was out of sight of the temple, she stopped to change from the yukata she had been wearing and into her armor. She looked back almost guiltily before slipping deeper into the forest. She knew it was a bad idea to go off on her own, especially when she was feeling so overwhelmed and emotional, but reminded herself that this area was safe, and mentally swore that she would stay close enough that Inuyasha could hear her shout if she ran into trouble.
A moment later, Kirara appeared at her side. Sango's sense of guilt ebbed. She just wanted to be alone for a while, away from Kagome's concern, from facing Miroku, from listening to Shippo babble. The forest's peace, and Kirara's silent companionship, was already starting to ease her agitation.
She kept walking, and found a likely clearing a few moments later. Everything was quiet and still, a welcome relief from the tension at the temple. She sat at the base of a tree, Kirara beside her, and simply watched the quietude for a long time. It helped, somewhat, to simply sit and watch and let her mind be empty. But the peace did not last long, and the forest did little more to soothe her.
She itched to move.
She took a deep breath, trying to keep her calm, before deciding that it might be best if she did move. If nothing else it would help burn off some of the pent-up energy inside her.
Aware of Kirara's eyes on her, she stood and drew her sword. She had begun her training ages ago and once might have thought her sword training embedded in the physical memory of sinew and muscle. But it had been a long time since she had the luxury of practicing, much less of working with a sword, or any weapon besides Hiraikotsu. Movements that had once been familiar now felt shaky. It was a miracle she had managed to inflict any damage with this battered sword, this awkward technique.
She silently resolved to take better care both of her sword and in her training, when a sudden sound caught her attention.
It was Miroku. He had brought his staff with him; it was the soft, familiar jingling of the metal rings that had alerted her to his presence. She was somewhat annoyed, but not surprised, that he had found her so easily. Of course he would know this forest. He had grown up here.
He was also the only one foolish enough to follow her when she was upset. Especially when he had been the one that upset her in the first place. The others always had enough sense to let her be, but Miroku just could not seem to leave well enough alone.
After a short pause, the only outward sign that she was aware of his presence at all, she resumed her movements. Let him interrupt, if he wished to speak with her so badly. But she found that for all her agitation, she could not maintain her anger. She wanted to forgive him, and to let him make things right. She wanted him to ease the turmoil inside her and dispel the fears that plagued her. She did not know if she could hide that, or if she wanted to hide it in the first place.
There was a clanking sound as he leaned the staff against a tree, followed by a chirp from Kirara and a long moment of silence.
"Sango."
She turned slowly, her gaze dispassionate. She wondered how much he could see in her eyes, in spite of her attempts at indifference. Her grip tightened on her sword as if she could find strength in it.
"Sango, I'm sorry."
She could not look at him without betraying something, and cast her gaze upon the ground at his feet instead. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
He stepped closer, bridging the distance between them. He was close enough to touch her, but made no move to do so. "I never thought that you would run... if I tried to take things slow."
"I - That was my fault. With everything that's happened, I overreacted, and I wasn't thinking straight, and -"
"It is my fault, Sango, for not understanding that you need my support just as much as I need yours. We must stand together if we are to succeed… and I think, now, that I was going about it all wrong." He pulled her, gently, into his embrace; she realized that he was giving her time... to hit him, to run away, to at least utter some sort of protest. But she chose to do none of those things, and let him hold her instead. After what he had said earlier, she had not been sure he would ever hold her like this again.
That thought, deep down, had terrified her. For all that she tried to cover it up with anger, there were some days when she wondered, secretly, what she would do without him. To actually confront that possibility - and to realize that he would ask her to do so - had very nearly been more than she could handle.
He graciously ignored the fact that his presence had left her choked up and struggling to hold back the deluge of strong emotions that currently threatened to overwhelm her. He kept her gently pinned against him with one hand, while the other tilted her chin up so he could look at her. He was smiling. "But if we're going to do it this way, we need to make sure we know where we stand. Let's do this right this time, shall we?"
She blinked, her eyes blurring from tears she would not shed. "Huh?"
She only had a moment to wonder before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She clung to him awkwardly, with her free arm. No stolen kiss, this, but a real one. Soft, and gentle, but steely underneath.
He held her tight enough, her body pressed flush against his, that she could not easily escape. And she did not care. She wanted more. More contact, more of the comfort only he could provide, more of the heat that had suddenly risen up between them.
This kiss had the strange effect of making her weak in the knees. All of her fear and desire and exhaustion, pushed aside and forcibly ignored for days, came flooding back; she very nearly lost her grip on her sword. At a second thought, she tossed it away, ignoring the faint clatter of the blade against the earth so she could wrap both arms around Miroku's neck and draw them closer together. The blade had taken a beating lately; another mistreatment could cause no more harm.
When Miroku finally pulled away, breathing hard and looking decidedly distracted, Sango buried her face against his neck and tried to keep the traitorous, relieved tears from falling. For a long time they remained still, sharing the simple comfort of being together.
Sango started as Kirara trilled sadly.
Miroku pulled back further, scrutinizing her; she realized, embarrassed, that she was crying. The tears rolled, hot and slick, down her face. She wondered, detachedly, if Kirara had smelled them.
"Don't cry, Sango," Miroku said, his voice low and deep, little more than a whisper. His hands trembled ever so slightly as they moved to cup her face. "You should get some rest," he added just as softly, "Did you think I didn't realize you haven't been sleeping?"
She wilted a little at that. She had been restless during his recovery, sleeping precious little, but she had expected it to pass within a day or so and had hoped that the others would not notice. If Miroku had noticed, that meant that Kagome probably had as well. Which in turn meant that she would not be allowed to get away with it any longer, so she may as well accept it and at least try to get some rest. But she found herself feeling reluctant to return to the temple. She did not want to have to explain her earlier outburst just yet.
His worried expression turned into a small smile. "You shouldn't worry about me so much," he said, a teasing tone creeping into his voice. She wondered if he realized that she would never stop worrying about him, and nearly flinched to remember the way she and Inuyasha had nearly let something terrible happen. If they had spent even a few more minutes following Kagura and Kohaku…
"You're worrying again," he said, interrupting her dark thoughts.
She tried to smile reassuringly, but could not quite manage it.
He released her, sliding his hands gently over her shoulders and down her arms to take her hands in his. The barely-there caress made her shiver; her cheeks were suddenly cold, without the warmth of his hands against them. And almost before she realized it, he was tugging gently, pulling her down so that she sat curled between his legs while he held her against his chest.
She sagged against him, grateful for the support, but she knew it could not last. Even the kiss had been going too far. This was dangerous. Miroku might be able to easily shift between denial and acceptance, whichever was more convenient, but she was not so flexible.
"We can't stay like this," she protested, her voice muffled against his chest. "You said so yourself."
He chuckled, and would not let her pull away. "I was wrong, remember?"
She laughed weakly at that, hardly able to believe anything anymore.
Miroku's arms tightened around her, holding her fast and squeezing gently. It was almost like he was past the point of allowing her to escape, she thought dazedly. She realized after a moment that he was talking, but it was difficult to focus.
"Sleep," he was saying, as if he realized that she was barely paying attention. "Then we'll talk, when your head is clear and you feel better."
-----
There was a sound nearby, the slightest rustling of branches that drew Miroku out of a doze. It took him a moment to focus through the darkness. Red…
"Inuyasha."
"Kagome sent me."
"Ah. She was worried, was she?"
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
Miroku laughed softly. "Yes, I am aware of the situation."
"Good. Then you know better than to do anything that'll hurt her, right?" Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to look intimidating, but the monk was not paying attention. He was focused on the woman in his arms.
"Yes."
"Keh. Good." Inuyasha leapt into a nearby tree, but sat on one of the branches and leaned against the trunk rather than heading back to the temple.
Perplexed, Miroku asked, "If I may… what are you doing?"
"I know you, monk," the hanyou said, glaring. "You're in no shape to be out here chasing after her. Get some rest. I'll keep watch for awhile."
Miroku smiled. "Thank you, my friend."
He closed his eyes, but dozed only fitfully after that.
When he awoke sometime later, it was growing light. There was no sign of Inuyasha, but a small basket filled with something that smelled delicious was sitting nearby.
"Sango," he murmured. She stirred groggily. They had been here for hours, since it was now morning; she must have been exhausted. "Inuyasha brought us some breakfast, it would appear," he added smoothly, lest she be discomfited by their perhaps compromising situation.
Kirara was already investigating the basket and Sango, who did not seem bothered at all, slipped gracefully away from him to do the same. His own stomach gurgling, Miroku could not resist following.
Someone, probably Kagome, had prepared rice balls and steamed vegetables, with a small portion of meat that was clearly intended for their feline companion. They dug in, eating for the most part in silence.
"We should go back," Miroku said after the last of the food was gone. When Sango said nothing, he set about cleaning up their dishes and packing everything back into the basket.
"Wait," Sango said, just as he was about to rise.
Curiosity piqued, Miroku settled himself more comfortably beside her. "Yes, Sango?"
"I… Please, tell me what you remember from the past few weeks. I'm… I need to know."
He knew it was difficult for her to ask, but at the same time he felt immensely relieved that she had. He had begun to wonder if she ever would, or if she would let her fear of the truth rule her forever. It was obvious that something about the ordeal had her spooked; he only hoped he would be able to lay her fears to rest.
"What would you like to know?" he asked, hoping to narrow the list of possible topics down to only the most relevant.
"Everything." She looked downcast. "I've been… trying to get by on my own… but I don't think my memory is reliable."
"How so, Sango?" That revelation came as a shock. He had almost assumed that any issues with Sango's memory would be resolved once they took care of the demon that had been manipulating her. Obviously this was not the case. He had been a fool to miss her continued agitation, or to chalk it up merely to her skittishness at being alone with him.
"I…" She paused for a long time, as if considering what to say. "I think that the demon may have been manipulating my memories. I don't know, exactly, what happened or when… or if it even really happened at all." Her brow furrowed slightly.
He wondered what had prompted her to think that his recollection of events might be any more trustworthy than her own. There were certainly gaps in his memory, though he had to admit that most of those were due to his recent possession, while Sango's difficulty had begun the day of her kidnapping and had apparently escalated from that point on.
"It would be best to start at the beginning," he mused, half to himself. But when was the beginning? The obvious choice was the night of Sango's kidnapping, so he began there, even though Kagome and Inuyasha had been acting strangely for several days prior to that. He was fairly certain that had something to do with the demon's influence, perhaps more than just something, but judged it to be irrelevant to the current conversation. He wished to focus on Sango, not speculate about their friends.
"The night the demon took you," he began, "I heard you leave the inn…" He continued, listing events as he remembered them, but being careful to omit the parts where he had felt strong, irrational jealousy or lust, and to focus on the fact that, despite the demon's obvious intentions, Sango had done nothing shameful or dishonorable during her capture.
When he had finished reminding her that she had slain her captor, she interrupted him. "You are certain that nothing happened? My clothes were gone… I - you -"
He smiled as gently as he could. "You have asked me this before, Sango. The answer has not changed."
She seemed to consider that for a while. "I… I just wish I could remember for myself." Her voice was so quiet that he almost did not hear her.
"If I could help you remember, I would." And he meant it. It occurred to him that such an extended period of honesty should have bothered him. But it didn't. This was Sango… she deserved better than pretty lies and empty reassurances.
"I know," she said. She ran her fingers absentmindedly through Kirara's fur. "And after that? When we returned to Kaede's village… you knew I'd been having nightmares?"
He nodded. "Yes. When you slept, you were always restless. And it seemed to only grow worse as we traveled farther away from the demon's village."
"Did you… have nightmares, too?"
He hesitated for a moment, no more than the space of a heartbeat. "Yes."
"How did you know it would stop if we went back?"
"It seemed a logical conclusion," he explained. When each dream ended back in the demon's lair, and grew more forceful with increased distance… though he thought he understood her initial doubt a bit better now. She had attributed the dreams to her uncertainty regarding the events in the demon's lair, and to her perceived failure as a slayer, not to continued interference. Being less troubled by the kidnapping incident itself, he had come to the opposite conclusion without ever thinking that she might do otherwise.
"I suppose," Sango said, though her tone was doubtful.
"I believe you remember what happened after that," he prodded. Better to keep moving forward than to let her linger in doubt.
She nodded cautiously. He knew she could not have forgotten their days of fruitless searching for the demon, nor the battle at the tree. At least, he hoped she had not forgotten those things, or the many moments of the course of those days that had drawn them together.
"Then I have a question for you, Sango."
She looked up at that, her expression somewhere between stricken and shocked.
He pressed forward anyway. "Why did you go to fight that demon on your own?" His heart still pounded at the memory of waking in the night to find her missing. He had to know what had possessed her to do such a reckless thing.
"It was calling me," she confessed. Suddenly, her uncertainty made sense. She worried, perhaps rightfully, that the demon had still been controlling her.
"I see," he said.
"I felt I had to deal with it on my own… to prove I wasn't a failure. I don't know if that was something the demon did, or…" Or her own wounded Slayer's pride, no doubt. At this point his guess was as good as hers.
He took her hand in his. "I'm glad you were uninjured."
She looked flustered. Not that he necessarily saw that as a bad thing. "I nearly failed again," she protested. It did not escape his notice that she had not yet pulled her hand away.
"The important thing is that you did not."
She nodded.
There was silence after that; it was almost the comfortable, companionable silence they had known in the past. And it was Sango that broke it, after realizing the situation and gently extricating her hand from his grip.
"But you did not notice anything weird before we fought that demon? Inuyasha and Kagome were acting very strangely," she said. Her voice was calm, with only the slightest tremor. It was the look on her face, both haunted and embarrassed, that told him that something was still bothering her. He guessed it had something to do with the days leading up to the kidnap, but had not the slightest idea as to what it might be. Unless, of course, the demon had attempted to place unchaste thoughts in her head the way it had with their companions.
"Nothing comes to mind," he confessed, hoping this would reassure her. His mind was already reeling with possibilities. What would Sango think of, that would cause her such distress? Had the demon tried to influence him, too, and he had simply failed to notice because lechery was his usual state of mind?
She frowned slightly. "You're sure?"
"Yes. Aside from some perhaps questionable actions on the part of our friends, I must admit that I did not notice anything out of the ordinary until it was too late." He paused a moment, considering her words. "But I take it you did?"
She flushed vividly red and shook her head violently; whatever she said next, he was certain it would be a lie. "No," she protested, "I am trying to figure out when we began to fall under the demon's control."
She obviously had noticed something odd before the kidnapping, but did not wish to speak about it. Which of course made him desperately curious to find out what it might be. In the interest of maintaining the peace, however, he kept his curiosity to himself… for now.
He stood, brushed himself off, and offered her a hand. "Come on. We've been out here long enough. I'm certain Inuyasha will want to leave as soon as possible." She took his hand, allowing him to help her up. He wrinkled his nose and grinned wryly. "Besides, it would seem that I, at least, am in need of a bath."
Sango laughed a little at that, and pulled away, reaching for the basket Kagome had packed their breakfast in and retrieving her discarded sword and extra clothes while she was at it. Kirara leapt onto her shoulder, though the slayer gave no sign of any unbalance, even with the sudden added weight. She smiled as she rose, as if oblivious to the fact that he had been watching her avidly the entire time. It was kind of her to ignore the indiscretion, even when he motioned that she should walk ahead of him.
He had hoped to follow behind her, but she soon fell into step beside him. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw her frown. "You do need a bath," she managed, her expression comical.
He grinned. "Is that a hint that you would like to join me?"
"I will not join you in the bath!"
"Perhaps there are other activities that you would prefer, then," he teased. She whapped him over the head with the basket then, but not hard enough to cause any damage. "Ah, well, if you ever change your mind…"
He trailed off suggestively, but she only blushed and said nothing.
He was still grinning like a fool when they got back to the temple, but quickly sobered. "Sango, if you ever wish to speak to me - about anything - please know that you are always welcome to do so," he said quietly.
"Thank you," she murmured, pausing next to him. For a moment he thought to squeeze her hand, though he wasn't sure whether it was more to reassure her, or himself, but she was already moving away. When she turned to look back at him, she was smiling. "I'll remember that. Now go see about that bath. We can talk later."
-----
Sango entered the common room expecting to be teased for her overnight absence, but only Kagome and Shippo were present. It was an oddly peaceful sight: the girl engrossed in one of her textbooks, and the fox kit busily devouring some sort of colorful, exotic treat. Sango was almost reluctant to intrude, but Kagome looked up as she entered and smiled brightly.
"Sango, you're back," she announced, her voice unwontedly cheerful.
Nodding, Sango took up a place near the other girl. "Where have Inuyasha and Mushin gone?"
Kagome shrugged. "They're off having a serious conversation somewhere, I think. I finally have a chance to study!" Sango peered into the strange book, but, as usual, could make little sense of it. "Say," Kagome continued, "did you talk things over with Miroku?"
"Yes," she said. Their conversation had helped, somewhat. There were still fears and memories that made her feel uneasy, but she felt less ashamed, and more confident that anything that seemed dishonorable had been planted in her mind by the demon.
"I'm glad," Kagome said.
Sango could tell she was nearly bursting at the seams with curiosity, but did not want to ask any potentially troublesome questions with Shippo present. Not that Sango blamed her. Shippo might look innocent, but he could be quite the little troublemaker when he wanted to be.
"By the way, where did Miroku run off to?" Kagome asked, drawing Sango out of her thoughts; Shippo watched them both, his eyes glittering with keen interest.
"He went to take a bath," Sango supplied. "He seemed to think he was well enough to leave soon."
"That's really good news! I'm sure Inuyasha will be glad to hear."
Sango nodded and lapsed into silence. She supposed he would be glad to be gone from this place. She knew that, for all that he tried to hide it, being at the temple made him worry about Miroku. She knew, because she felt the same way. The grave in the courtyard was an ever-present reminder of the wind tunnel's curse, and Miroku's limited lifespan. But at the same time, she was reluctant to leave. She would miss the peace and quiet, and the tenuous connection she had formed with Miroku, which she was almost certain would dissolve as soon as they returned to the road.
"Sango, are you okay? You look really worried." It was Shippo. He had finished his candy and had come over to play with Kirara, or so it appeared.
"I'm fine," she murmured, ruffling Kirara's fur in spite of a mewed protest. "Just thinking of the future. It's been nice to have a break."
"I hear you," Kagome said, setting her book aside and stretching until one of her joints popped. "Do you want to go find the boys? Inuyasha may want to head out as soon as possible."
Sango shrugged. "Sure." But something about what Kagome had said stuck in her head. Inuyasha may want to head out as soon as possible? From what Sango knew of the hanyou, he would have to be seriously ill or wounded not to want to return to their quest immediately. If he did not… Sango got the distinct impression that Kagome was up to something. Perhaps her friends had found the privacy of the temple to their liking, too.
The temple was quiet. Sango had no idea where they would find Mushin or Inuyasha, but Kagome seemed to. With Shippo clinging to one arm, the priestess led the way.
They found the two men sitting on the porch. Both were silent; Inuyasha looked grumpier than usual, if such a thing were possible, while Mushin was gazing morosely at a mostly empty bottle of sake. Sango knew they had been talking about Miroku. Mushin had the most experience of anyone when it came to the wind tunnel curse, so it was only natural to discuss it while they were here. She wondered what the prognosis was this time, or if she even wanted to know.
It was Kagome that was brave enough to break the stony silence. "Inuyasha…"
"Keh." The hanyou turned to look out over the forest, rather than at the girls.
"Miroku said today that he felt well enough to leave soon," Kagome continued. "We can leave tonight, if you -"
"Feh, whatever. We'll leave in the morning."
The response had Sango blinking rapidly in surprise. Had she heard correctly? It made her wonder if Inuyasha had 'gone soft', as he often complained he might, or if Miroku was hiding something from her, or if it was something else altogether… maybe her imagination.
Kagome had been making small talk with Inuyasha while Sango let her thoughts run wild, but now the priestess turned her attention back to the slayer. "Well, if I've got all afternoon, I'm going to try to catch up on my studying while I've got the chance. Sango, why don't you go see if Miroku's done with his bath and let him know there's no need to hurry?"
Sango hesitated, hoping that Mushin or Inuyasha would volunteer, but both were silent. She sighed. "I suppose I can," she said, grudgingly, and hoping against hope that this would not end as badly as she feared it might.
"Great! Thanks, Sango," Kagome chirped, already heading back to her studying.
Sango sighed again, this time in resignation. Just what was Kagome getting at? She was halfway to the bathhouse, secluded from the rest of the temple, when it hit her: first urging her to talk to Miroku alone, then the offer of the birth control, now this. Kagome was playing matchmaker again.
She didn't know whether to feel flattered or embarrassed or -
"Sango, if I had known you were planning to join me after all, I'd have waited for you at the bathhouse," Miroku teased.
Certain that she was going to die of shock, having not heard him approach, Sango had the presence of mind to be glad that he was not still in the bath when she found him. If that had been the case… she might have died of embarrassment instead. The idea reminded her too closely of the one questionable memory that Miroku had not addressed – not that she had been brave enough to bring it up in the first place. She had no desire to spy on him again… right? Right.
"Is something wrong? You look… preoccupied."
"N - nothing's wrong," she protested, shaking her head violently. "Kagome sent me, actually. We spoke with Inuyasha, and he said that we will be leaving tomorrow morning, so there's no need to rush things today -" She realized she was babbling, and stopped.
He chuckled softly. "Okay, so nothing's wrong. But you are preoccupied."
He would see right through her if she tried to deny it; he always did. She could think of no excuse to give him, yet pride would not let her admit to the truth. Luckily, Miroku seemed more than willing to let that matter drop.
"Since we have suddenly found ourselves with an abundance of time, perhaps you should take advantage of the bathhouse," he suggested; she had not noticed how close he was standing, until that very moment. "It might help you relax."
She frowned, narrowing her eyes. "And if I do that, what will you do?"
"Nothing untoward, I assure you."
Her eyes narrowed just a bit more. "Why do I doubt that?" The thought jolted through her that even if she had accidentally spied on him, for whatever reason, Miroku was more likely to enjoy her attention than revile her for it. She had been overreacting because it scared her to think she might act like him, that she might do something dishonorable or reprehensible. But what if it wasn't so bad?
"I would never think of doing something so dishonorable as spying on you in the bath," he was saying, having guessed her suspicions.
"Oh, spare me," she interrupted, fighting between the urge to roll her eyes or giggle.
"I would much rather join you."
She was taken aback by the sudden suggestion, and tried to hide it even though she knew she was failing miserably. Taking advantage of her surprise, Miroku stepped closer to wrap his arms around her and whisper, "If you would not be opposed, of course."
She was strangely unopposed, and that was the problem.
She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned close. She thought he might kiss her; she wanted him to kiss her. And when his hands slipped lower, grasping her buttocks and squeezing gently, she nearly lost her composure altogether. She had missed this, the feeling of his hands on her bottom, though the realization came with more surprise than horror.
When was the last time he had touched her like this? Struggling to clear her head, she scrambled for any excuse she could find to put some space between them.
"I should go do… something," she managed, but it was half-hearted, almost pathetic. She was hesitant to be alone with him now, when she was getting so worked up, yet she found herself unwilling to leave him. He looked so… serious.
He let her go without a fuss. His gaze met hers and held it. It was so intense that she almost could not look away. In comparison to her wildly scattered emotions, he looked the very picture of composure, but his words put the lie to that. "Stay here. With me. We have all night…"
"I can't," she fumbled, "Not yet." But I want to. Please see that I want to.
"If you change your mind, you know where to find me." And then he was gone, heading back the way she had come. She hardly noticed.
Those eyes… and the lingering sensation of his hands on her… Her mind was very nearly made up before he was even out of sight.
Once he was gone, she let herself collapse against the wall and tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart and the pulsing heat between her legs.
What am I going to do?
-----
"Sango?"
Kagome peered into the bathhouse, searching for any sign of her friend. After dinner, the monk and slayer had both disappeared, though not together, and nearly an hour apart. Miroku had returned to his room to rest, but Sango had given no explanation and, when she failed to turn up again within an hour or so, Kagome had begun to worry.
She was relieved to find Sango in the bathhouse, even if she was looking sullen and conflicted - and rather pruny.
"You are in here," Kagome continued, trying her best to be cheerful. "Do you mind if I join you?"
Sango shook her head and moved over so there would be room for the other girl in the rather cramped basin. Kagome had not really planned on taking a bath just now, but she was not about to pass up the opportunity to talk to Sango away from prying eyes and ears.
She quickly disrobed and grabbed her bath supplies, stashed here since shortly after the group's arrival, and slipped into the water. When she managed to finish washing herself and still had not heard a peep from Sango, she knew that something had to be wrong. It only took a moment to decide a course of action.
"Here," she said, offering the bottle of scented shampoo. At Sango's skeptical look, she added, "It always helps me feel better."
Almost grudgingly, Sango accepted the offer.
"Now, tell me what's bothering you," Kagome urged. Sango frowned. She was obviously stalling. "Come on," Kagome prodded, "I'm your friend, Sango. If something is bothering you, you can talk to me about it."
Sango ducked under the water, washing the suds from her hair. When she surfaced, her expression was unreadable. "Miroku asked me to meet him in his room tonight," she said, her voice so quiet that for a moment Kagome thought she had misheard. Sango had used Miroku's name… and he had invited her… oh.
"Really?!"
Sango nodded. Kagome felt her curiosity bubbling over. "Well? Are you going to go?"
The slayer shrugged at that, and climbed gracefully from the tub. "I don't think so."
Kagome scrambled to follow her. "Why not? Did something happen between you two?"
"It's not that I don't want to… at least I don't think that's it."
"Then… what's stopping you?"
"I don't know." And with that, having finished dressing, she walked away. Kagome knew better than to follow, but she couldn't help but worry.
Chapter Eighteen
As he made his way through the temple, Miroku's thoughts were dark. Maybe the curse of the wind tunnel went deeper than just the hole in his hand, he thought ruefully. It seemed that no matter what he tried to accomplish with Sango, it ended up having the wrong effect entirely.
He frowned. Well, at least now he knew she was interested. If nothing else, he had accomplished that much. One question answered… how many more until he could even begin to understand the way her mind worked?
Slowly, he made his way to the common room, a room that might have been used for meditation and the seeking of enlightenment were Mushin not in charge of the temple, where Inuyasha and Kagome were waiting.
Kagome looked up as he slid the door open. "She already left."
"Ah. Thank you," he said, stepping back out.
"Say, Miroku… what happened?"
"Just a small misunderstanding."
He closed the door behind him.
-----
The forest was peaceful. Dark and damp and quiet, save for the occasional birdsong or rustle as some small creature passed by, and the ever-present sounds of insects. This was a good place for a temple, Sango thought. It would be easy to meditate here, if only her anger would let her sit still.
She did not even know where to direct her anger. There were too many reasons for it. She was angry with Miroku, for wanting to put more space between them; she was still angry with Inuyasha for sending her on idiotic errands when Miroku was quite possibly dying; she was angry with Kagome for asking her to hide 'birth control' in her bag in the hopes that Inuyasha would not find it; and she was angry with herself for being so worked up over Miroku's suggestion that they back off and kill Naraku before getting too involved with each other.
She knew better than that. But, somehow, she had come to see him as a source of comfort during this horrible journey they were on. She felt that they had grown closer; she had trusted him completely. And, she grudgingly admitted, she had let that cloud her judgment. In the moment when he asked her to wait, she had actually felt betrayed.
The worst part was that Miroku was right. His argument made perfect sense. In a way, it explained a lot of the difficulties she had been having lately. She had been distracted and upset, and had let the situation get out of hand. She was letting might-have-beens and memories that were likely false get the better of her, even now.
When she was out of sight of the temple, she stopped to change from the yukata she had been wearing and into her armor. She looked back almost guiltily before slipping deeper into the forest. She knew it was a bad idea to go off on her own, especially when she was feeling so overwhelmed and emotional, but reminded herself that this area was safe, and mentally swore that she would stay close enough that Inuyasha could hear her shout if she ran into trouble.
A moment later, Kirara appeared at her side. Sango's sense of guilt ebbed. She just wanted to be alone for a while, away from Kagome's concern, from facing Miroku, from listening to Shippo babble. The forest's peace, and Kirara's silent companionship, was already starting to ease her agitation.
She kept walking, and found a likely clearing a few moments later. Everything was quiet and still, a welcome relief from the tension at the temple. She sat at the base of a tree, Kirara beside her, and simply watched the quietude for a long time. It helped, somewhat, to simply sit and watch and let her mind be empty. But the peace did not last long, and the forest did little more to soothe her.
She itched to move.
She took a deep breath, trying to keep her calm, before deciding that it might be best if she did move. If nothing else it would help burn off some of the pent-up energy inside her.
Aware of Kirara's eyes on her, she stood and drew her sword. She had begun her training ages ago and once might have thought her sword training embedded in the physical memory of sinew and muscle. But it had been a long time since she had the luxury of practicing, much less of working with a sword, or any weapon besides Hiraikotsu. Movements that had once been familiar now felt shaky. It was a miracle she had managed to inflict any damage with this battered sword, this awkward technique.
She silently resolved to take better care both of her sword and in her training, when a sudden sound caught her attention.
It was Miroku. He had brought his staff with him; it was the soft, familiar jingling of the metal rings that had alerted her to his presence. She was somewhat annoyed, but not surprised, that he had found her so easily. Of course he would know this forest. He had grown up here.
He was also the only one foolish enough to follow her when she was upset. Especially when he had been the one that upset her in the first place. The others always had enough sense to let her be, but Miroku just could not seem to leave well enough alone.
After a short pause, the only outward sign that she was aware of his presence at all, she resumed her movements. Let him interrupt, if he wished to speak with her so badly. But she found that for all her agitation, she could not maintain her anger. She wanted to forgive him, and to let him make things right. She wanted him to ease the turmoil inside her and dispel the fears that plagued her. She did not know if she could hide that, or if she wanted to hide it in the first place.
There was a clanking sound as he leaned the staff against a tree, followed by a chirp from Kirara and a long moment of silence.
"Sango."
She turned slowly, her gaze dispassionate. She wondered how much he could see in her eyes, in spite of her attempts at indifference. Her grip tightened on her sword as if she could find strength in it.
"Sango, I'm sorry."
She could not look at him without betraying something, and cast her gaze upon the ground at his feet instead. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
He stepped closer, bridging the distance between them. He was close enough to touch her, but made no move to do so. "I never thought that you would run... if I tried to take things slow."
"I - That was my fault. With everything that's happened, I overreacted, and I wasn't thinking straight, and -"
"It is my fault, Sango, for not understanding that you need my support just as much as I need yours. We must stand together if we are to succeed… and I think, now, that I was going about it all wrong." He pulled her, gently, into his embrace; she realized that he was giving her time... to hit him, to run away, to at least utter some sort of protest. But she chose to do none of those things, and let him hold her instead. After what he had said earlier, she had not been sure he would ever hold her like this again.
That thought, deep down, had terrified her. For all that she tried to cover it up with anger, there were some days when she wondered, secretly, what she would do without him. To actually confront that possibility - and to realize that he would ask her to do so - had very nearly been more than she could handle.
He graciously ignored the fact that his presence had left her choked up and struggling to hold back the deluge of strong emotions that currently threatened to overwhelm her. He kept her gently pinned against him with one hand, while the other tilted her chin up so he could look at her. He was smiling. "But if we're going to do it this way, we need to make sure we know where we stand. Let's do this right this time, shall we?"
She blinked, her eyes blurring from tears she would not shed. "Huh?"
She only had a moment to wonder before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She clung to him awkwardly, with her free arm. No stolen kiss, this, but a real one. Soft, and gentle, but steely underneath.
He held her tight enough, her body pressed flush against his, that she could not easily escape. And she did not care. She wanted more. More contact, more of the comfort only he could provide, more of the heat that had suddenly risen up between them.
This kiss had the strange effect of making her weak in the knees. All of her fear and desire and exhaustion, pushed aside and forcibly ignored for days, came flooding back; she very nearly lost her grip on her sword. At a second thought, she tossed it away, ignoring the faint clatter of the blade against the earth so she could wrap both arms around Miroku's neck and draw them closer together. The blade had taken a beating lately; another mistreatment could cause no more harm.
When Miroku finally pulled away, breathing hard and looking decidedly distracted, Sango buried her face against his neck and tried to keep the traitorous, relieved tears from falling. For a long time they remained still, sharing the simple comfort of being together.
Sango started as Kirara trilled sadly.
Miroku pulled back further, scrutinizing her; she realized, embarrassed, that she was crying. The tears rolled, hot and slick, down her face. She wondered, detachedly, if Kirara had smelled them.
"Don't cry, Sango," Miroku said, his voice low and deep, little more than a whisper. His hands trembled ever so slightly as they moved to cup her face. "You should get some rest," he added just as softly, "Did you think I didn't realize you haven't been sleeping?"
She wilted a little at that. She had been restless during his recovery, sleeping precious little, but she had expected it to pass within a day or so and had hoped that the others would not notice. If Miroku had noticed, that meant that Kagome probably had as well. Which in turn meant that she would not be allowed to get away with it any longer, so she may as well accept it and at least try to get some rest. But she found herself feeling reluctant to return to the temple. She did not want to have to explain her earlier outburst just yet.
His worried expression turned into a small smile. "You shouldn't worry about me so much," he said, a teasing tone creeping into his voice. She wondered if he realized that she would never stop worrying about him, and nearly flinched to remember the way she and Inuyasha had nearly let something terrible happen. If they had spent even a few more minutes following Kagura and Kohaku…
"You're worrying again," he said, interrupting her dark thoughts.
She tried to smile reassuringly, but could not quite manage it.
He released her, sliding his hands gently over her shoulders and down her arms to take her hands in his. The barely-there caress made her shiver; her cheeks were suddenly cold, without the warmth of his hands against them. And almost before she realized it, he was tugging gently, pulling her down so that she sat curled between his legs while he held her against his chest.
She sagged against him, grateful for the support, but she knew it could not last. Even the kiss had been going too far. This was dangerous. Miroku might be able to easily shift between denial and acceptance, whichever was more convenient, but she was not so flexible.
"We can't stay like this," she protested, her voice muffled against his chest. "You said so yourself."
He chuckled, and would not let her pull away. "I was wrong, remember?"
She laughed weakly at that, hardly able to believe anything anymore.
Miroku's arms tightened around her, holding her fast and squeezing gently. It was almost like he was past the point of allowing her to escape, she thought dazedly. She realized after a moment that he was talking, but it was difficult to focus.
"Sleep," he was saying, as if he realized that she was barely paying attention. "Then we'll talk, when your head is clear and you feel better."
-----
There was a sound nearby, the slightest rustling of branches that drew Miroku out of a doze. It took him a moment to focus through the darkness. Red…
"Inuyasha."
"Kagome sent me."
"Ah. She was worried, was she?"
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
Miroku laughed softly. "Yes, I am aware of the situation."
"Good. Then you know better than to do anything that'll hurt her, right?" Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to look intimidating, but the monk was not paying attention. He was focused on the woman in his arms.
"Yes."
"Keh. Good." Inuyasha leapt into a nearby tree, but sat on one of the branches and leaned against the trunk rather than heading back to the temple.
Perplexed, Miroku asked, "If I may… what are you doing?"
"I know you, monk," the hanyou said, glaring. "You're in no shape to be out here chasing after her. Get some rest. I'll keep watch for awhile."
Miroku smiled. "Thank you, my friend."
He closed his eyes, but dozed only fitfully after that.
When he awoke sometime later, it was growing light. There was no sign of Inuyasha, but a small basket filled with something that smelled delicious was sitting nearby.
"Sango," he murmured. She stirred groggily. They had been here for hours, since it was now morning; she must have been exhausted. "Inuyasha brought us some breakfast, it would appear," he added smoothly, lest she be discomfited by their perhaps compromising situation.
Kirara was already investigating the basket and Sango, who did not seem bothered at all, slipped gracefully away from him to do the same. His own stomach gurgling, Miroku could not resist following.
Someone, probably Kagome, had prepared rice balls and steamed vegetables, with a small portion of meat that was clearly intended for their feline companion. They dug in, eating for the most part in silence.
"We should go back," Miroku said after the last of the food was gone. When Sango said nothing, he set about cleaning up their dishes and packing everything back into the basket.
"Wait," Sango said, just as he was about to rise.
Curiosity piqued, Miroku settled himself more comfortably beside her. "Yes, Sango?"
"I… Please, tell me what you remember from the past few weeks. I'm… I need to know."
He knew it was difficult for her to ask, but at the same time he felt immensely relieved that she had. He had begun to wonder if she ever would, or if she would let her fear of the truth rule her forever. It was obvious that something about the ordeal had her spooked; he only hoped he would be able to lay her fears to rest.
"What would you like to know?" he asked, hoping to narrow the list of possible topics down to only the most relevant.
"Everything." She looked downcast. "I've been… trying to get by on my own… but I don't think my memory is reliable."
"How so, Sango?" That revelation came as a shock. He had almost assumed that any issues with Sango's memory would be resolved once they took care of the demon that had been manipulating her. Obviously this was not the case. He had been a fool to miss her continued agitation, or to chalk it up merely to her skittishness at being alone with him.
"I…" She paused for a long time, as if considering what to say. "I think that the demon may have been manipulating my memories. I don't know, exactly, what happened or when… or if it even really happened at all." Her brow furrowed slightly.
He wondered what had prompted her to think that his recollection of events might be any more trustworthy than her own. There were certainly gaps in his memory, though he had to admit that most of those were due to his recent possession, while Sango's difficulty had begun the day of her kidnapping and had apparently escalated from that point on.
"It would be best to start at the beginning," he mused, half to himself. But when was the beginning? The obvious choice was the night of Sango's kidnapping, so he began there, even though Kagome and Inuyasha had been acting strangely for several days prior to that. He was fairly certain that had something to do with the demon's influence, perhaps more than just something, but judged it to be irrelevant to the current conversation. He wished to focus on Sango, not speculate about their friends.
"The night the demon took you," he began, "I heard you leave the inn…" He continued, listing events as he remembered them, but being careful to omit the parts where he had felt strong, irrational jealousy or lust, and to focus on the fact that, despite the demon's obvious intentions, Sango had done nothing shameful or dishonorable during her capture.
When he had finished reminding her that she had slain her captor, she interrupted him. "You are certain that nothing happened? My clothes were gone… I - you -"
He smiled as gently as he could. "You have asked me this before, Sango. The answer has not changed."
She seemed to consider that for a while. "I… I just wish I could remember for myself." Her voice was so quiet that he almost did not hear her.
"If I could help you remember, I would." And he meant it. It occurred to him that such an extended period of honesty should have bothered him. But it didn't. This was Sango… she deserved better than pretty lies and empty reassurances.
"I know," she said. She ran her fingers absentmindedly through Kirara's fur. "And after that? When we returned to Kaede's village… you knew I'd been having nightmares?"
He nodded. "Yes. When you slept, you were always restless. And it seemed to only grow worse as we traveled farther away from the demon's village."
"Did you… have nightmares, too?"
He hesitated for a moment, no more than the space of a heartbeat. "Yes."
"How did you know it would stop if we went back?"
"It seemed a logical conclusion," he explained. When each dream ended back in the demon's lair, and grew more forceful with increased distance… though he thought he understood her initial doubt a bit better now. She had attributed the dreams to her uncertainty regarding the events in the demon's lair, and to her perceived failure as a slayer, not to continued interference. Being less troubled by the kidnapping incident itself, he had come to the opposite conclusion without ever thinking that she might do otherwise.
"I suppose," Sango said, though her tone was doubtful.
"I believe you remember what happened after that," he prodded. Better to keep moving forward than to let her linger in doubt.
She nodded cautiously. He knew she could not have forgotten their days of fruitless searching for the demon, nor the battle at the tree. At least, he hoped she had not forgotten those things, or the many moments of the course of those days that had drawn them together.
"Then I have a question for you, Sango."
She looked up at that, her expression somewhere between stricken and shocked.
He pressed forward anyway. "Why did you go to fight that demon on your own?" His heart still pounded at the memory of waking in the night to find her missing. He had to know what had possessed her to do such a reckless thing.
"It was calling me," she confessed. Suddenly, her uncertainty made sense. She worried, perhaps rightfully, that the demon had still been controlling her.
"I see," he said.
"I felt I had to deal with it on my own… to prove I wasn't a failure. I don't know if that was something the demon did, or…" Or her own wounded Slayer's pride, no doubt. At this point his guess was as good as hers.
He took her hand in his. "I'm glad you were uninjured."
She looked flustered. Not that he necessarily saw that as a bad thing. "I nearly failed again," she protested. It did not escape his notice that she had not yet pulled her hand away.
"The important thing is that you did not."
She nodded.
There was silence after that; it was almost the comfortable, companionable silence they had known in the past. And it was Sango that broke it, after realizing the situation and gently extricating her hand from his grip.
"But you did not notice anything weird before we fought that demon? Inuyasha and Kagome were acting very strangely," she said. Her voice was calm, with only the slightest tremor. It was the look on her face, both haunted and embarrassed, that told him that something was still bothering her. He guessed it had something to do with the days leading up to the kidnap, but had not the slightest idea as to what it might be. Unless, of course, the demon had attempted to place unchaste thoughts in her head the way it had with their companions.
"Nothing comes to mind," he confessed, hoping this would reassure her. His mind was already reeling with possibilities. What would Sango think of, that would cause her such distress? Had the demon tried to influence him, too, and he had simply failed to notice because lechery was his usual state of mind?
She frowned slightly. "You're sure?"
"Yes. Aside from some perhaps questionable actions on the part of our friends, I must admit that I did not notice anything out of the ordinary until it was too late." He paused a moment, considering her words. "But I take it you did?"
She flushed vividly red and shook her head violently; whatever she said next, he was certain it would be a lie. "No," she protested, "I am trying to figure out when we began to fall under the demon's control."
She obviously had noticed something odd before the kidnapping, but did not wish to speak about it. Which of course made him desperately curious to find out what it might be. In the interest of maintaining the peace, however, he kept his curiosity to himself… for now.
He stood, brushed himself off, and offered her a hand. "Come on. We've been out here long enough. I'm certain Inuyasha will want to leave as soon as possible." She took his hand, allowing him to help her up. He wrinkled his nose and grinned wryly. "Besides, it would seem that I, at least, am in need of a bath."
Sango laughed a little at that, and pulled away, reaching for the basket Kagome had packed their breakfast in and retrieving her discarded sword and extra clothes while she was at it. Kirara leapt onto her shoulder, though the slayer gave no sign of any unbalance, even with the sudden added weight. She smiled as she rose, as if oblivious to the fact that he had been watching her avidly the entire time. It was kind of her to ignore the indiscretion, even when he motioned that she should walk ahead of him.
He had hoped to follow behind her, but she soon fell into step beside him. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw her frown. "You do need a bath," she managed, her expression comical.
He grinned. "Is that a hint that you would like to join me?"
"I will not join you in the bath!"
"Perhaps there are other activities that you would prefer, then," he teased. She whapped him over the head with the basket then, but not hard enough to cause any damage. "Ah, well, if you ever change your mind…"
He trailed off suggestively, but she only blushed and said nothing.
He was still grinning like a fool when they got back to the temple, but quickly sobered. "Sango, if you ever wish to speak to me - about anything - please know that you are always welcome to do so," he said quietly.
"Thank you," she murmured, pausing next to him. For a moment he thought to squeeze her hand, though he wasn't sure whether it was more to reassure her, or himself, but she was already moving away. When she turned to look back at him, she was smiling. "I'll remember that. Now go see about that bath. We can talk later."
-----
Sango entered the common room expecting to be teased for her overnight absence, but only Kagome and Shippo were present. It was an oddly peaceful sight: the girl engrossed in one of her textbooks, and the fox kit busily devouring some sort of colorful, exotic treat. Sango was almost reluctant to intrude, but Kagome looked up as she entered and smiled brightly.
"Sango, you're back," she announced, her voice unwontedly cheerful.
Nodding, Sango took up a place near the other girl. "Where have Inuyasha and Mushin gone?"
Kagome shrugged. "They're off having a serious conversation somewhere, I think. I finally have a chance to study!" Sango peered into the strange book, but, as usual, could make little sense of it. "Say," Kagome continued, "did you talk things over with Miroku?"
"Yes," she said. Their conversation had helped, somewhat. There were still fears and memories that made her feel uneasy, but she felt less ashamed, and more confident that anything that seemed dishonorable had been planted in her mind by the demon.
"I'm glad," Kagome said.
Sango could tell she was nearly bursting at the seams with curiosity, but did not want to ask any potentially troublesome questions with Shippo present. Not that Sango blamed her. Shippo might look innocent, but he could be quite the little troublemaker when he wanted to be.
"By the way, where did Miroku run off to?" Kagome asked, drawing Sango out of her thoughts; Shippo watched them both, his eyes glittering with keen interest.
"He went to take a bath," Sango supplied. "He seemed to think he was well enough to leave soon."
"That's really good news! I'm sure Inuyasha will be glad to hear."
Sango nodded and lapsed into silence. She supposed he would be glad to be gone from this place. She knew that, for all that he tried to hide it, being at the temple made him worry about Miroku. She knew, because she felt the same way. The grave in the courtyard was an ever-present reminder of the wind tunnel's curse, and Miroku's limited lifespan. But at the same time, she was reluctant to leave. She would miss the peace and quiet, and the tenuous connection she had formed with Miroku, which she was almost certain would dissolve as soon as they returned to the road.
"Sango, are you okay? You look really worried." It was Shippo. He had finished his candy and had come over to play with Kirara, or so it appeared.
"I'm fine," she murmured, ruffling Kirara's fur in spite of a mewed protest. "Just thinking of the future. It's been nice to have a break."
"I hear you," Kagome said, setting her book aside and stretching until one of her joints popped. "Do you want to go find the boys? Inuyasha may want to head out as soon as possible."
Sango shrugged. "Sure." But something about what Kagome had said stuck in her head. Inuyasha may want to head out as soon as possible? From what Sango knew of the hanyou, he would have to be seriously ill or wounded not to want to return to their quest immediately. If he did not… Sango got the distinct impression that Kagome was up to something. Perhaps her friends had found the privacy of the temple to their liking, too.
The temple was quiet. Sango had no idea where they would find Mushin or Inuyasha, but Kagome seemed to. With Shippo clinging to one arm, the priestess led the way.
They found the two men sitting on the porch. Both were silent; Inuyasha looked grumpier than usual, if such a thing were possible, while Mushin was gazing morosely at a mostly empty bottle of sake. Sango knew they had been talking about Miroku. Mushin had the most experience of anyone when it came to the wind tunnel curse, so it was only natural to discuss it while they were here. She wondered what the prognosis was this time, or if she even wanted to know.
It was Kagome that was brave enough to break the stony silence. "Inuyasha…"
"Keh." The hanyou turned to look out over the forest, rather than at the girls.
"Miroku said today that he felt well enough to leave soon," Kagome continued. "We can leave tonight, if you -"
"Feh, whatever. We'll leave in the morning."
The response had Sango blinking rapidly in surprise. Had she heard correctly? It made her wonder if Inuyasha had 'gone soft', as he often complained he might, or if Miroku was hiding something from her, or if it was something else altogether… maybe her imagination.
Kagome had been making small talk with Inuyasha while Sango let her thoughts run wild, but now the priestess turned her attention back to the slayer. "Well, if I've got all afternoon, I'm going to try to catch up on my studying while I've got the chance. Sango, why don't you go see if Miroku's done with his bath and let him know there's no need to hurry?"
Sango hesitated, hoping that Mushin or Inuyasha would volunteer, but both were silent. She sighed. "I suppose I can," she said, grudgingly, and hoping against hope that this would not end as badly as she feared it might.
"Great! Thanks, Sango," Kagome chirped, already heading back to her studying.
Sango sighed again, this time in resignation. Just what was Kagome getting at? She was halfway to the bathhouse, secluded from the rest of the temple, when it hit her: first urging her to talk to Miroku alone, then the offer of the birth control, now this. Kagome was playing matchmaker again.
She didn't know whether to feel flattered or embarrassed or -
"Sango, if I had known you were planning to join me after all, I'd have waited for you at the bathhouse," Miroku teased.
Certain that she was going to die of shock, having not heard him approach, Sango had the presence of mind to be glad that he was not still in the bath when she found him. If that had been the case… she might have died of embarrassment instead. The idea reminded her too closely of the one questionable memory that Miroku had not addressed – not that she had been brave enough to bring it up in the first place. She had no desire to spy on him again… right? Right.
"Is something wrong? You look… preoccupied."
"N - nothing's wrong," she protested, shaking her head violently. "Kagome sent me, actually. We spoke with Inuyasha, and he said that we will be leaving tomorrow morning, so there's no need to rush things today -" She realized she was babbling, and stopped.
He chuckled softly. "Okay, so nothing's wrong. But you are preoccupied."
He would see right through her if she tried to deny it; he always did. She could think of no excuse to give him, yet pride would not let her admit to the truth. Luckily, Miroku seemed more than willing to let that matter drop.
"Since we have suddenly found ourselves with an abundance of time, perhaps you should take advantage of the bathhouse," he suggested; she had not noticed how close he was standing, until that very moment. "It might help you relax."
She frowned, narrowing her eyes. "And if I do that, what will you do?"
"Nothing untoward, I assure you."
Her eyes narrowed just a bit more. "Why do I doubt that?" The thought jolted through her that even if she had accidentally spied on him, for whatever reason, Miroku was more likely to enjoy her attention than revile her for it. She had been overreacting because it scared her to think she might act like him, that she might do something dishonorable or reprehensible. But what if it wasn't so bad?
"I would never think of doing something so dishonorable as spying on you in the bath," he was saying, having guessed her suspicions.
"Oh, spare me," she interrupted, fighting between the urge to roll her eyes or giggle.
"I would much rather join you."
She was taken aback by the sudden suggestion, and tried to hide it even though she knew she was failing miserably. Taking advantage of her surprise, Miroku stepped closer to wrap his arms around her and whisper, "If you would not be opposed, of course."
She was strangely unopposed, and that was the problem.
She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned close. She thought he might kiss her; she wanted him to kiss her. And when his hands slipped lower, grasping her buttocks and squeezing gently, she nearly lost her composure altogether. She had missed this, the feeling of his hands on her bottom, though the realization came with more surprise than horror.
When was the last time he had touched her like this? Struggling to clear her head, she scrambled for any excuse she could find to put some space between them.
"I should go do… something," she managed, but it was half-hearted, almost pathetic. She was hesitant to be alone with him now, when she was getting so worked up, yet she found herself unwilling to leave him. He looked so… serious.
He let her go without a fuss. His gaze met hers and held it. It was so intense that she almost could not look away. In comparison to her wildly scattered emotions, he looked the very picture of composure, but his words put the lie to that. "Stay here. With me. We have all night…"
"I can't," she fumbled, "Not yet." But I want to. Please see that I want to.
"If you change your mind, you know where to find me." And then he was gone, heading back the way she had come. She hardly noticed.
Those eyes… and the lingering sensation of his hands on her… Her mind was very nearly made up before he was even out of sight.
Once he was gone, she let herself collapse against the wall and tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart and the pulsing heat between her legs.
What am I going to do?
-----
"Sango?"
Kagome peered into the bathhouse, searching for any sign of her friend. After dinner, the monk and slayer had both disappeared, though not together, and nearly an hour apart. Miroku had returned to his room to rest, but Sango had given no explanation and, when she failed to turn up again within an hour or so, Kagome had begun to worry.
She was relieved to find Sango in the bathhouse, even if she was looking sullen and conflicted - and rather pruny.
"You are in here," Kagome continued, trying her best to be cheerful. "Do you mind if I join you?"
Sango shook her head and moved over so there would be room for the other girl in the rather cramped basin. Kagome had not really planned on taking a bath just now, but she was not about to pass up the opportunity to talk to Sango away from prying eyes and ears.
She quickly disrobed and grabbed her bath supplies, stashed here since shortly after the group's arrival, and slipped into the water. When she managed to finish washing herself and still had not heard a peep from Sango, she knew that something had to be wrong. It only took a moment to decide a course of action.
"Here," she said, offering the bottle of scented shampoo. At Sango's skeptical look, she added, "It always helps me feel better."
Almost grudgingly, Sango accepted the offer.
"Now, tell me what's bothering you," Kagome urged. Sango frowned. She was obviously stalling. "Come on," Kagome prodded, "I'm your friend, Sango. If something is bothering you, you can talk to me about it."
Sango ducked under the water, washing the suds from her hair. When she surfaced, her expression was unreadable. "Miroku asked me to meet him in his room tonight," she said, her voice so quiet that for a moment Kagome thought she had misheard. Sango had used Miroku's name… and he had invited her… oh.
"Really?!"
Sango nodded. Kagome felt her curiosity bubbling over. "Well? Are you going to go?"
The slayer shrugged at that, and climbed gracefully from the tub. "I don't think so."
Kagome scrambled to follow her. "Why not? Did something happen between you two?"
"It's not that I don't want to… at least I don't think that's it."
"Then… what's stopping you?"
"I don't know." And with that, having finished dressing, she walked away. Kagome knew better than to follow, but she couldn't help but worry.