InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Miroku's Lyric ❯ Session Four ( Chapter 4 )

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Memoir of Sango…

Miroku Akamatsu. He was a complete enigma to me.

Of course, his enigma was one that I doubted he even knew. I mean, what kind of man is not actually attached to his possessions? Miroku, to me, he seemed like one of those men you'd only see in movies and romantic novels. Those loving, tender, smart, strong, all around perfect men who'll gladly lay down their life for the ones they love. But human beings have an overpowering desire to live, yet why do so few actually live it to the fullest. These days, human beings are doing exactly what they are: being. Yet, Miroku, seemed to be the only one who was living, but he, at the same time, had no life in this modern world at all…

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Mi: A Name I call Myself

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***

"Kagome!"

She looked up from the desk. "Eri? What's wrong?"

"One of the patients has gone missing!"

"Which one?!"

"An Inuyasha, but I think he might've- Kagome? Where'd she go?"

***

"Is there anything you want to say to me?"

"Hm?" Sango looked up from her book.

He put down his guitar. "Well," he began, "you've been coming to the park everyday for about a week at about noon, don't say a word, and for about an hour or two, just sit at the bench across from me, either working on papers or reading, and before you leave you give me a ten dollar bill."

"Well I hope you don't think I'm cheap for only giving you a ten," she replied. Miroku chuckled, leaning against the tree he was sitting under. Everyday they went through that same conversation, but this time he wanted to go a little further with the conversation. She had gone from the mysterious blanket owner (which, by the way, he was sitting on) to the mysterious woman who sat on the bench every afternoon. All she'd do is sit there while he played his guitar, then leave like she'd done this for years, no words spoken at all. He'd grown accustomed to her sitting there, her aura was comforting to him for some reason.

"I'm not bothering you am I?"

"Of course not, I happen to find your company soothing," he replied, "no one comes to see me on a regular basis except for the kids at the playground, but no one my age. People usually don't like to associate with a bum. I myself prefer the term 'shelter impaired' over that little nickname."

Sango put down her book, her eyes focusing on the man before her. "So…" she began, "what's it like to be 'shelter impaired'?"

He smiled. "Not much difference between this and living in a house, except… well, maybe the living in the house part. Sleep on a park bench, wash up when the sprinklers come on at seven in the morning, gather up what little money I can to eat, and as for the bathroom it's 'pick a tree, any tree'. Simple really."

I see you've been here for a while, then," she said.

"Only a year. What about yourself?"

"Like…?"

"You are a doctor, correct?"

"Yes, it's my first year at an actual clinic, since I just got out of college."

"Any particular field?"

"I work where I'm needed."

The conversation was interrupted by a weak, yet fairly loud, growl.

"I don't believe that was an animal," said Sango.

"Close, my stomach," Miroku replied, putting a hand to his abdomen.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

"Yesterday morning."

"Yesterday morning?!" Sango repeated, "you should really eat more, it's not healthy." She stood up. "C'mon, it's lunch time now, I'll treat you to a meal."

"Don't worry about me," Miroku insisted despite the petite woman pulling him along, "I have a really small stomach, and I'm used to not eating for long periods of time."

***

"I thought I'd find you here."

Violet eyes met brown ones. "How'd you know I would be here?"

"A lot of patients come here," Kagome replied, "are you planning to jump?"

"What makes you think that?"

"You're sitting on the edge."

"I like heights," he replied bluntly, swinging his leg over the side of the building. She sat down beside him, both looking over the city, neither of them saying a word to each other.

***

"Hungry?" she stated in a mocking tone.

"Are you going to eat that?" Miroku replied, his mouth half full of food. She smirked, passing him the piece of garlic bread and watching him stack it onto the overstuffed plate, resting her hand under her chin.

"You know, it's an you can eat buffet," said Sango, "you can eat as much as you want. You don't have to take it all on one plate."

"Just filling up while I can," he replied, looking down at his plate, "who knows when I'll get to eat this much again."

"Tomorrow, maybe?" the doctor replied, stifling a giggle as she watched him try to eat his food in the most sophisticated manner possible, which proved more difficult than it seemed, especially since he hadn't eaten in days.

"Your guitar…"

"Huh?" Miroku looked up from his food. She pointed to the guitar, leaning against the chair by his side.

"You never let it out of your sight," she stated, "is it your most prized possession?"

"My only possession is more like it," he replied, picking up his guitar, "it was my father's."

"What happened to him?"

"He died while I was young."

"Your mother?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Miroku replied, giving the strings of his a guitar a soft twang, "after all, how can you miss something you've never had?"

"But you can still want it," Sango corrected, "it's human nature."

"But as a Buddist, the object of desire is redundant," Miroku stated.

"As insightful as the ways of Buddha are, isn't the desire to learn not to desire a desire within itself?" Sango replied.

"That was very profound."

"Miroku, there's something I've wanted to ask you…"

"Go ahead, I'm game."

She leaned slightly closer and hesitantly. "Miroku… You don't seem like the type to be a drug addict, or too lazy to work…"

"Well, I'm glad you think that," he replied sarcastically, taking a drink of his tea.

"You're not making this easy."

He raised his hands up in the air defensively. "I'm the one being asked twenty question and you're uneasy?"

"What I'm trying to ask is: Why are you out on the streets?"

She had expected him to tense up, freeze, show any signs of discomfort, but to her surprise he looked as casual and content as ever. 'He must be asked this a lot.'

"Sango, why do you want to know this?"

She tensed slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry if I seem suspicious, but…" he began, "people are usually this nice to bums like me. All people usually do is listen to me play and drop some spare change into my hat. Are you… a reporter or something? Why are you so nice to me?"

"Honestly, I don't know…" Sango replied, "All I can say is that you're… different."

Another long moment of silence passed between the two. Sango, now feeling slightly awkward, looked over at the man across from her. He was just staring at her, smiling, his deep indigo eyes flashing what seemed to be a mixture of amusement of deep concentration. She looked away, trying not to look directly into his eyes, when something caught her attention.

"Oh my god! Your hand!"

Miroku jumped slightly, not expecting her sudden outburst. Sango reached for his hand, holding his wrist her slightly smaller hand delicately, just as a doctor would. She carefully removed the fingerless glove from his right hand. She winced visibly.

"Your hand…" she whispered.

Her eyes ran over the grotesque bruise, which made something short of a crater in his hand, it's deep violet discoloration apparent in his slightly tanned skin.

"When one is on the streets, one must defend himself," Miroku stated, "unfortunately one cannot guarantee coming from it unharmed. Especially when it involves a pipe."

"You should let a doctor check this out…"

"I believe you are, Dr. Takashi," he smiled.

"The scar tissue could build up," Sango replied seriously, "it can press again a blood vessel until no blood can flow through it, literally suffocating the heart of blood, and can kill you in minutes."

"Sounds fun."

"Yes, it does."

Another moment of silence passed.

"I gave it up."

She looked up. "What?"

"You had asked me why I was homeless," Miroku said, "it's because I get tired of having to rely of material possessions to make me happy. I got several scholarships, when to the best university in the country; I could be anything I want to be. But I didn't feel… complete. That's when I realized I couldn't be myself in a world where people are so… shallow. Then they teach their children the same thing, even with good intentions. I just couldn't take it anymore. So I quit."

"I guess I could see where you're coming from Miroku," Sango replied, "but… remember…" She paused for a moment, searching his eyes for any form of falsehood.

"One cannot live on existence alone."

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Preview of next chapter:

She heard the sirens from the ambulance. She had seen the staff roll the person in to the emergency room. She was used to the procedure, it was common, especially in this city of malevolence. But she had never expected the unconscious victim to be him…

'Miroku…'