Crossover Fan Fiction / InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Journey to the City of Endless Night ❯ Chapter Fifty-Five ( Chapter 55 )

Chapter Fifty-Five

Shippo yawned as he unrolled his sleeping bag. He grumbled to himself, “It's just not fair. I never get to spend any time with Kagome anymore.” He shrugged out of his overcoat, revealing his twitching tail. Shippo hung his coat up by the door before returning to his bed roll. He stretched and rubbed an eye. “She doesn't pay any attention to me, either.”

 

Sango sighed as she finished combing her hair. Sango set the comb down and picked up her white ribbon, tying her hair back. “Well, Shippo, I'm sure you'll get to do something with her soon. She probably needed to get some sleep tonight after the long day's ride. She did look tired.” Sango smoothed her hair down. “Besides, I know you need your sleep, Shippo.”

 

Shippo crossed his arms. “Feh.” He crawled into his sleeping bag. “I still don't think it's fair that Inuyasha gets to spend all the time he wants with Kagome. I never get to see her because she's always with him.”

 

Sango shook her head. “Shippo, you know that they're mates, now.” She leaned over the bed, petting Kirara. The fire-cat lifted up her head from her spot in the center of the green comforter. Kirara stretched and yawned, before curling back up into a ball. Sango continued, “Things were going to change after that. That doesn't mean that Kagome loves you any less.” She knelt down by Shippo, pulling his blanket around him.

 

“Whatever.” He stuck his lower lip out into a pout before rolling over, his back turned. “She always pays more attention to Rin, too. She gets to ride with Kagome all the time. How come she never wants to make time for me?” He snorted. “It's just not fair. Both Inuyasha and Rin get to see Kagome all the time.”

 

Sango sighed. “Why don't you get some sleep and see if you can spend some time with Kagome in the morning? I'm sure she'd be happy to.”

 

Sango knew that Inuyasha and Kagome needed time alone. After witnessing her friend's anguish, the demon slayer knew that the best thing would be for them to have their privacy. She knew that both had a lot of healing to do and it would be best if everyone gave them their space. Sango didn't want to explain to Shippo the reasons why. The kit didn't need to know about any of the awful events that had transpired at the small inn. That was between Inuyasha and Kagome, and it would be up to them to repair the damage. She also knew that the last thing either of them needed was Shippo to ask questions about it.

 

Shippo snorted. He didn't reply as he curled up into a small ball, and pulled the blanket further over his head. The little boy muttered to himself as he beat his pillow, “Stupid Inuyasha and stupid Rin hog all of Kagome's time. It's just not fair.”

 

Sango shrugged as she exited into the hallway. The demon slayer smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress, making her way down the stairs and into the dining hall. Sango noticed that Miroku remained sitting at the table, next to the spy and his wife. She smiled shyly in his direction as he waved her over. Sango sat down across from him, clasping her hands in front of her. She said softly, “Hey.”

 

“Well hello there, my dear Sango.” Miroku smiled wide. “Just the person I wanted to see.” He took her hands into his. “I'd like for you to meet Silk's wife, Velvet.”

 

“Velvet?” Sango shook her head.

 

“A name I received in the Academy back in Boktor. Isn't it a silly nickname? I guess I should take it as a a compliment, though.” The small blonde woman sitting next to Silk smiled wide, dimples appearing in her cheeks. “You can call me Liselle, if you like.”

 

Sango nodded, her eyes cast down. She struggled to free her hands from Miroku's grasp only to find the monk's fingers interlaced with hers. She gave in and sighed. Sango replied, “You can call me Sango. It's nice to meet you, Liselle.”

 

Miroku smiled wide. “So, how was your bath? I hope it was nice.” He squeezed her hand across the table. The monk glanced around the room. “Where's Shippo?”

 

“It was nice.” She blushed, looking away. Sango sighed. “Shippo's in our room, asleep.”

 

“Oh? He is, is he?” Miroku's smile increased.

 

Sango wrenched her hands free. “Don't get any funny ideas, lecher.”

 

Velvet laughed softly, the sound musical. “My, you sure do try to charm as many ladies as you can, don't you, monk? This is the third one tonight.” She smiled wide, shaking her head. “Maybe Vella was right about you, after all.”

 

Sango narrowed her eyes in Miroku's direction. “Hentai monk.” She crossed her arms. “Let me guess, you asked the other two that ridiculous question of yours. You never change, monk.”

 

“What question was that?” Velvet raised her eyebrows. “All he asked me was who I am.”

 

“He asks every woman he meets to bear his children.” Sango snorted. “I'm surprised he didn't ask you, too.”

 

Silk's nose twitched. He laughed. “I put a stop to that considering she's my wife.” The thief slipped his arm around Velvet's shoulders, pulling the blonde woman close. “I've noticed our monk's wandering eye, too.”

 

Velvet laughed. “Bear his children? Oh no. That most certainly won't happen any time soon. You sure are direct, Miroku.”

 

Miroku blushed. “Ah, well, I have yet to ask one single lady today.”

 

Sango rolled her eyes. “It must be a record. Are you ill, monk?”

 

Miroku held his hands up in defeat. “Now, now. I'm not really that bad. Honestly, you're exaggerating.”

 

Sango sighed. “Whatever you say, monk.”

 

Velvet asked, “So, what is it that you do, Sango? I'm curious as how one such as yourself ends up traveling with someone like our charming monk.”

 

Sango said, “I'm a demon slayer.”

 

“A demon slayer?” Velvet frowned. “But don't you travel with two demons?”

 

“Four, actually. Shippo's a fox demon and Kirara's a fire-cat,” Sango replied.

 

“Shippo is?” The little blonde woman blinked. “I hadn't noticed anything odd about the little boy.”

 

Miroku said, “You forgot Myoga. He's a flea demon.”

 

“A flea? You can't be serious. And the other two?” Velvet asked.

 

Silk said, “They're both dog demons. Though, Inuyasha is technically half.”

 

“Oh that's rich. Two dog demons and a flea. That's funny.” Velvet laughed.

 

Sango nodded. “Yes.” She frowned. “Hey, monk, where has Myoga run off to, by the way? I don't think we've heard anything from him in quite some time.”

 

Miroku shrugged. “My guess is he's lying low while we're in this big city. If he has anything to say, he'll say it. You know Myoga, ever the coward.”

 

Sango shook her head. “I suppose you're right.”

 

Velvet's brown eyes glanced from Miroku to Sango. She asked, “So, Sango, if you're a slayer, why do you travel with them? The demons, I mean. I'm curious.”

 

Sango bit her lip, glancing down at the table. She clasped her hands in front of her. The demon slayer knew that the question was innocent, and that she was probably overreacting, but she felt uncomfortable answering it, nonetheless. She said quietly, “It's a very long story.”

 

Miroku cleared his throat. “Well, it's rather simple. We all have a common goal to defeat Naraku, you see.”

 

“Ah. That would explain it, yes.” Velvet smiled wide.

 

Sango smiled shyly towards Miroku. She felt grateful that he had come to her aid. That question could have led to things Sango had no desire to discuss. It wasn't that the blonde woman was being overly nosy, she just didn't want to answer too many questions about her profession, considering the tragedy surrounding her village. She also didn't want to answer any real questions as to why she traveled with demons, while being a slayer. Sango blushed when she felt Miroku grasp one of her hands, gently squeezing it. She asked, “And what do you do, Liselle?”

 

“I work in the so-called Drasnian Industry,” Velvet replied.

 

“Oh?”

 

“I work in the Drasnian Intelligence Service, just like my husband here.” Velvet leaned her head onto Silk's shoulder. “It can be quite exciting at times. I'm sure you can understand with your line of work, after all.”

 

Sango nodded. “Yes, I can imagine.”

 

“So, just what type of weapons does one use to slay a demon?” Velvet asked.

 

Sango pursed her lips. “It can depend, I suppose, on the type of demon you're fighting. Some demons are naturally resistant to some attacks, but vulnerable to others. Not all of them can be slain by using a sword or poison, for example.”

 

Velvet laughed. “And I suppose all the weapons work on a rather over-eager monk, right?”

 

Sango smiled wide. The blonde woman's easy-going nature relaxed the demon slayer. She laughed. “Yes. I've found them to be quite effective on the monk in the past. Although, he seems to need constant reminders to control himself.”

 

Miroku snorted and sighed. “It's the hand, my dear Sango. I swear. It's the hand. It has a mind of its own. It's cursed!”

 

“I'll remember that the next time it finds its way to my behind, monk. You're not fooling anyone.” She yanked her hand free and crossed her arms. “I'm beginning to think your mind's been cursed, not your hand.”

 

“Now, now. Aren't you being a little harsh?” Miroku sighed.

 

Silk laughed. “Well, you know you always have someone in Rakand waiting for you anytime. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to let your cursed hand do what ever it likes.”

 

Miroku rolled his eyes and grumbled, “That stupid pig.” He glared at the spy. “It wasn't even that funny.”

 

Velvet smiled, flashing her dimples. “My, you do have a wandering eye, don't you?”

 

Miroku's shoulders slumped. “I give up.”

 

The little man snickered to himself quietly. He said, “I suppose, I should track down Yarblek to find out what's going on with our business.” He kissed Velvet on the cheek. “See you upstairs, then?”

 

Velvet smiled. She nodded. “Certainly, Kheldar. Try not to swindle too many people, okay?”

 

Silk's eyes went wide and his mouth opened in surprise. He put a hand to his chest and said, “Swindle? Me? Never. Where have you heard such lies about me?”

 

“I have my ways, Silk. You should know that. Go find out what Yarblek's been up to.” She gripped one of his hands into hers, squeezing it. “I'll see you later, Kheldar. Try to have fun.” He stood, crossing to the staircase and disappeared up it. Velvet turned, smiling at both Miroku and Sango. “Well, I must say it's been an exciting evening, wouldn't you? I thought this one was going to fall out of his chair during Vella's dance, tonight.”

 

Sango glared at the monk. Miroku's cheeks flamed and he rubbed the back of his neck. He sputtered a moment, then remarked, “Ah, she, well, she was certainly good at what she does. I don't see anything wrong with appreciating talent when I see it.”

 

Sango crossed her arms. She snorted. “Figures the monk would like that little display. I'm glad I missed it. I don't see how anyone can condone that woman being a slave.”

 

Velvet laughed, a slight musicality to it. “Oh dear. Vella is no slave. I figure if anyone has to watch what they do, it's Yarblek. She's not just talented in her dancing. Those daggers of hers aren't just for show. I'm almost envious of her blades.” The blonde woman reached behind her, pulling a small knife from behind her neck. “This one is getting a little beat on.” The blade was slightly dull and the handle needed polishing. “Vella's daggers are beautiful. I wish I could afford a set like hers.”

 

Sango looked at the knife. “Wait, she has daggers?”

 

“Oh my yes. Vella uses them quite often, too. I pity any man thinking that she'd be nice to touch.” Velvet smiled. “It's her way of protecting herself from those like our dear monk, here.”

 

Miroku sighed, hanging his head. “Honestly, I am not that bad.”

 

“A set of daggers to keep someone's wandering hands away? What a novel concept.” Sango glared at Miroku. She looked towards Velvet and caught the blonde woman's wink. The demon slayer rolled up her dress sleeve, revealing her slayer outfit underneath. She tripped the trigger that revealed a small blade embedded into it. Sango said, “I've found that this comes in handy sometimes.”

 

Velvet leaned over, looking at it. “That is rather nice, indeed. If I could, I'd find a way to copy it. You wouldn't mind, would you?” She smiled wide. “That's a nice thing for hand to hand combat, I'll bet.”

 

Sango nodded. “I have found that it works well.” She retracted the weapon, pulling her sleeve back into place.

 

The more Sango talked with this small blonde woman, the more she found that she liked her. She was warm and easy going. Although Sango hated to admit it, after Inuyasha and Kagome had become mates, she had noticed her friend had focused her attention fully on their hanyou companion. They still spent time together as they had in the past, but Sango could feel a small distance settling between them. It had also been a long time since she could discuss weaponry with someone who wasn't male.

 

Velvet slid another blade from one of her short boots. She twirled it until she held it by the blade, extending the hilt to Sango. “This is one of my favorite knives. I've had it since I joined the Academy.”

 

Sango accepted the knife, tilting it so it caught the soft gleam of firelight from the oil lamps. The blade was sharp and spotless. The handle was a beautiful silver with one emerald resting on its pommel. She said, “Nice. Very nice.”

 

Miroku shook his head. He sighed and looked down at the table. The monk tapped his fingers on the table top. It didn't escape Sango's notice that a slight pout had formed on his lips and she had to repress a laugh. She had to admit, it did make him look rather attractive, although she would never admit that out loud. He looked up, a small, shy smile crossing his features. He reached out, brushing his hand against hers as he took Velvet's knife. Miroku looked it over. “Yes, this is quite nice.”

 

Velvet took her knife back, sliding it back into its sheath in her boot. She said, “It might not be the best knife out there, but it's certainly one I wouldn't part with.”

 

Sango blushed, looking down towards the table. She said, “I wouldn't part with it, either, if I were you.” The demon slayer bent down, shirking her skirt up to her knee. She smiled slyly to herself when she caught Miroku's shocked expression. Sango slipped a small dagger from her boot. She pushed her skirt back down, setting the blade onto the table. “This is one of my favorite knives. If I don't have my sword, I can at least use this.”

 

Velvet leaned over, picking the small knife up. She examined it, running her thumb along the blade. “Nice. That's good steel.”

 

“It's better than steel. It's also infused with some demon bone that we had lying around. I've had other knives break on me, but not that one,” Sango replied. She left out that the knife had been crafted by her father, one of the few things she had left of him. It had been given to her when she had begun her training and she cherished it above all her other weapons, save the exception perhaps of hiraikotsu.

 

“Demon bone?” Velvet turned the blade over, catching glints in the lamp light. “Well, it's still well-crafted.” She handed the knife back to Sango.

 

Sango accepted it by its leather hilt. She hiked her skirt up again, watching Miroku's expression as she slid the blade back into its sheath at her ankle. His eyes remained trained on her hand as she slowly pushed the blade in. Once it was in place, Sango pushed her skirt back down. She arched an eyebrow in his direction before turning towards Velvet. “Some of my other weapons are made from demon bone, as well, but are much too big to carry down here.”

 

The blonde woman nodded. Velvet said, “It's been very nice talking with you, Sango, Miroku. It's getting late and I've been up since dawn this morning.” She stood, stretching. “Hopefully we'll get to speak again soon, Sango? I'd like to see what else you have in your arsenal. I'm curious to see what you use to slay demons with.” She smiled wide, her dimples forming. “And you, Miroku, I'd be careful with this one. I wouldn't want you to lose anything important because you were careless.” Velvet winked at Sango. “Good night, you two. Don't stay up too late.”

 

As soon as Velvet disappeared up the stairs, Sango clasped her hands in front of her, averting her eyes away from Miroku's. She tensed as she felt the monk move to sit next to her, preparing for the inevitable squeeze of Miroku's cursed hand on her rear. Instead, she felt his fingers interlace with hers. She glanced at him, blushing as she caught the small grin that flickered across Miroku's face. Sango tried to pry her hand away from his grip. “Alright, monk, just what are you up to now?”

 

Miroku placed his other hand over their joined hands. He said “I'm not up to anything, my dear Sango.”

 

Sango snorted. “Just why should I believe you?” Her cheeks flamed further as she stared at their hands. “I can tell you're up to something, monk. Don't think you can fool me.”

 

Miroku stood, pulling Sango to stand. “Now, now. Don't always think the worst of me.” He led her out of the dining hall towards a small sitting room. Soft candle light illuminated the room, casting it into shadows. Inside sat a small blue divan against the wall. On the small mahogany table rested a pot of tea and two cups. Sango gasped. She looked towards Miroku, then back to the scene before her. Miroku squeezed her hand and said, “I thought you might like to relax before bed.”

 

Sango felt her face flush with color. She stuttered, “I---I don't know what to say, monk.”

 

Miroku let her hand go and sat down onto the divan. He patted the open seat next to him. The monk picked up the teapot, pouring tea into a cup. Miroku offered the cup towards her. “Aren't you going to sit, Sango?”

 

Sango sat down next to him. She took the cup from his hands, sipping from it. The tea was spicy and sweet with a small hint of a honey aftertaste filling her mouth. She smiled shyly at Miroku, whispering, “Thank-you.”

 

Miroku poured his own cup of tea, sipping from it. “I'm glad you like it, my dear Sango. That's not all, however.”

 

Sango held her cup in her hands. She arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Just what are you up to, monk?”

 

“Now, now. It's not like that, I promise.” Miroku smiled. He set his cup onto the table and opened the door. The monk accepted a tray, nodding to someone unseen by Sango. He said, “Thank-you.” Miroku shut the door and turned around, setting the tray down onto the table. On it were a half-dozen rice balls. “I had the cook specially make these for you. I know that they're your favorite.”

 

Sango gasped. She set her cup down, crossing her arms. The demon slayer narrowed her eyes. “Now I know you're up to something. Just what are you after?”

 

Miroku shook his head and sighed. “Nothing at all. I'm not up to or after anything, honestly.” He smiled shyly as he took his seat. “I thought it'd be nice to have some tea and rice balls before bed, that's all. I just wanted to share it with someone. Can't I do something nice for you?”

 

Sango bit her lip. She lowered her eyes and picked up a rice ball. She bit into it and found that it tasted sweet, a compliment to the spice of the tea. She had to admit that the tea and rice balls were a charming gesture, contrasting with the monk's typical lecherous behavior. The demon slayer swallowed, sipping some tea. She smiled. “They're good.” She finished her rice ball, savoring the taste of sesame seeds and peanuts. Sango asked, “How did you know? That they were my favorite, I mean.”

 

The monk sipped from his teacup. He set his cup back down onto the table and turned towards her. Miroku said, “Come now, Sango. I've noticed your particular affinity for these rice balls.”

 

Sango's eyes went wide, setting her teacup onto the table. “You did?”

 

Miroku nodded. “Of course. I also know you like honey in your tea. I notice all sorts of things about you, my dear Sango.”

 

Sango crossed her arms. “Oh you have, have you, monk?”

 

Miroku sighed. “Yes. I have. When you brush your hair and when Kirara tries to play with the brush, you let her. You always hum the same song when you polish your hiraikotsu. When you're trying to figure something out, you pace and bite your thumbnail. Your nose wrinkles whenever you don't like something. And, when you laugh too much, you snort, which embarrasses you. You try to cover it up by holding your hand over your mouth.” The monk leaned forward, pouring more tea into both of their cups. He sipped from his, smiling slightly.

 

Sango sputtered. She looked down, feeling heat flood her cheeks. She clasped her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. Sango bit her lip, lifting her eyes. Miroku still sat forward and picked up a rice ball. The demon slayer looked away, blushing further. Sango wasn't sure if she should believe her ears or how to respond.

 

“You bite your lip when you're nervous.” Miroku still wasn't looking at her. He slowly ate he his rice ball before picking up his teacup and sipped from it. “That knife you showed Velvet, your father gave that to you, didn't he?”

 

Sango's eyes went wide, whirling to face him. She inhaled sharply and asked, “How—how did you know that?”

 

Miroku glanced towards her as he sipped his tea. “You can only find demon bone in the slayer village, at least the kind that can be used in weapons like that knife. I figured as proud of it as you were that your father gave it to you.” He set his cup down, lifting the tray of rice balls. “Would you like another, my dear Sango?” He smiled wide, offering the tray with both hands. “It'd be a shame to see them go to waste.”

 

Sango lifted her hand from her lap, extending it towards the tray. She stopped when she noticed Miroku's dark eyes focusing on her. Sango blushed and quickly snatched a rice ball. She nibbled on it, averting her eyes from his. “Thank-you.” As she ate, she looked around the room. A rich blue rug covered the floor. An ornate vase painted with blue and red flowers sat atop a corner table. Sango focused on it as she snacked on the sweet treat. She tensed when she felt fingers brush her cheek. She looked over towards Miroku and asked, “Just what are you doing, monk?”

 

Miroku smiled, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “You had some of your rice ball on your cheek.” He didn't move his hand, instead resting it onto her cheek. The monk leaned in, gently brushing his lips against hers. He pulled back. “There. It should be all gone now.” Miroku let his hand fall as he picked up his teacup.

 

Sango ran her fingers over her cheek and lips, blushing. So much about this evening had been unexpected. She finished her rice ball before leaning forward to sit level with Miroku. She bit her lip before turning towards him. Sango kissed his cheek just as he lifted his teacup to his lips. She had to suppress a giggle when the monk's eyes went wide and he nearly dropped his cup. She picked her own teacup up, hiding her small smile. Miroku stared at her, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. Sango found herself staring at him, her eyes lingering over his lips. He licked them before raising his hand to his mouth as he cleared his throat.

 

Sango said, “You're nervous. You only do that when you're nervous.” She sipped more tea. “I notice things, too, monk.”

 

Miroku finished clearing his throat and set his cup back onto the table. “Why Sango, I didn't think you noticed.” He kept his eyes on the table, a small blush tinting his cheeks. The monk rested a hand onto the back of his neck. “Anything about me, that is.”

 

“You mean anything besides when you grab my butt.” Sango set her cup back down and picked up another rice ball. She glanced again towards the vase as she ate. Sango said, “If I don't notice things about you, how else can I keep ahead of you, monk?” She looked back towards Miroku, smiling shyly before taking another bite of her treat, finishing it. Sango licked her lips and then her fingers, one by one. She glanced over, catching Miroku's stare. “Monk?”

 

Miroku's dark eyes locked on hers and he returned the smile. He brushed his fingers across her cheek, his thumb rubbing at the corner of her mouth. Miroku bit his lip before leaning in, kissing her. He pushed his tongue out, pleading for entrance. Sango opened her mouth in surprise and felt his tongue twist with hers. His hand moved, fisting into her hair. His fingers pulled on her ribbon, freeing her tresses. Miroku's other arm settled around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

 

Sango's eyes fluttered shut and a soft moan escaped. She slid her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair. She leaned back into the corner of the divan, pulling Miroku with her. Sango pushed her tongue into his mouth, exploring its warmth. Miroku's tongue wrapped around hers and he ran fingers through her dark hair. She felt his body cover hers as his hands settled to her sides, squeezing.

 

Miroku kissed down her jawline to her throat and she tilted her head back, granting him access. His tongue dragged across her skin and she bit her lip as she groaned. His hands traced her sides, rubbing in gentle circles. Sango hooked one of her legs with his as she twisted her fingers into his thick hair. She ran her hands across his back before cupping his rear in them, drawing him closer. Miroku moaned softly against her throat, gently nibbling the skin. His hands moved to cradle her, one resting on the back of her thigh, the other on the small of her back. They held her firmly against him as he took her mouth again, thrusting his tongue deep inside.

 

Sango leaned forward, pushing Miroku into the opposite corner. She placed a hand onto his cheek as she kissed him, battling him for dominance. Sango hiked her skirt up and settled into Miroku's lap, straddling him. She clutched his shoulders into her hands as she explored the warmth of his mouth. Miroku's hands rested on her hips, pulling her further into his lap. Sango moaned softly into his mouth. She reached a hand up and undid the tie in his hair. Her fingers ran through his loose hair as she wound her tongue with his. Miroku's hands moved to cup her bottom, grasping it. She groaned, delving her tongue further into his mouth.

 

Sango's eyes went wide as she realized precisely where his hands were, and more importantly, that she liked it. She pulled away, blushing profusely, and moved back into her seat, clasping her hands in her lap. Had she enjoyed that? Sango looked towards the rice ball tray, noticing that only two remained. She felt her face flush as Miroku took one of her hands into his. He gently rubbed his thumb on the back of it. Sango turned towards him, keeping her eyes averted. Miroku raised her hand up, kissing the back of it. He interlaced their fingers and the monk's shy voice asked, “Sango?”

 

Heat flushed Sango's cheeks more and Miroku tilted her chin up, his cursed hand cupping it. Sango bit her lip, her eyes locking with his. His dark hair loosely framed his face, and Sango noticed how it gave him a much softer appearance. She reached a shaky hand up, pushing his tousled hair behind an ear. Miroku's eyes fell shut and he sighed. Sango let her hand fall back to her side, lowering her eyes. “Monk?”

 

“I---I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.” Miroku opened his eyes and a small frown crossed his lips. He began to pull away, but Sango squeezed his hand, stopping him. He said, his voice hushed, “We should probably get some sleep. It is getting very late and we probably will have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

 

“Don't, don't be sorry, monk.” The demon slayer shyly shook her head before kissing his cheek. Sango pulled back, easing into his lap. She rested her forehead onto his, and slid her hands down to clasp his, guiding them to her rear. She smiled demurely, color rushing to her cheeks at her bold actions, especially after acting so skittish. She felt him tense underneath her and she held his hands firmly to her body. When he began to relax, she looped her arms around his neck, interlacing her fingers in his soft hair. She cast her eyes down and whispered, “I---I want to stay just a little bit longer. I'm not all that tired.”

 

Miroku's eyes went wide. “Why Sango—”

 

To silence him, Sango pushed her tongue into his surprised mouth. She intertwined it with his tongue as she leaned him back into the corner of the divan. Miroku kissed her back, his arms cradling her against him. She moaned softly into the kiss as his hands clutched her bottom. He lifted a hand, pushing her hair away from her neck, before kissing her pulse. Sango leaned her head back, her eyes closed. She moaned softly and gripped his hair in her hands as his tongue made circles over her skin. Sango breathed, “Miroku---”

 

Miroku's head jerked upwards, his eyes wide. A smile broke over his face and he said, “You've, you've never called me by my name before.” He kissed her and whispered into her ear, “I like how it sounds when you say it. Will you say it again?”

 

Sango looked down, her hair falling into her eyes. She lifted her head, her eyes connecting with his as she smiled shyly. She leaned in, whispering into his ear, “Miroku.”

 

The monk shuddered underneath her, wrapping his arms around her. He rested his head onto her shoulder, sighing. Miroku kissed her ear, flicking his tongue out at the shell of it. He said, his voice husky, “Sango---”

 

A soft knock interrupted Miroku, and Sango pulled away from him, her cheeks red. A man peered around the door frame. “My lord, pardon my intrusion, but the cook requested the dishes.” The servant tilted his head in the direction of the tray and teapot. “May I clear them, my lord?”

 

Miroku's cursed hand clenched into a fist at his side. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. In a tightly controlled voice, Miroku replied, “Yes, please clear them.” He looked towards the servant, a forced smile on his face. “I'd appreciate it.”

 

Sango bit her thumbnail, staring at the floor. She watched, from the corner of her eye, the servant clear the dishes. She outstretched her hand. “Wait.”

 

The man stopped. “Yes, my lady?”

 

Sango blushed. “Can I take the last two rice balls first?”

 

“Yes, certainly, my lady.” The servant lifted the tray, extending it towards her.

 

Sango picked up the remaining rice balls. She said, “Thank-you.”

 

“No trouble at all, my lady.” The servant set the teapot and cups onto the tray. He bowed. “Again, pardon my interruption, my lord, lady.” He exited, leaving the two of them alone again.

 

Sango sat down next to Miroku. She eased one rice ball into his hand. “Here, mo---Miroku.”

 

Miroku smiled wide at her. “Why thank-you, my dear Sango.” He ate it quickly.

 

Sango glanced down at hers and nibbled it. As soon as it was gone, she felt Miroku's hand grasp one of hers. She blushed, looking down at their joined hands. Her free hair fell into her face and Miroku tucked it behind an ear. He leaned in and kissed her. When he pulled away, Sango couldn't resist the yawn that tore from her mouth. She laughed softly. “I'm sorry.”

 

Miroku feigned hurt feelings, placing his cursed hand to his chest. “I'm wounded, Sango. I bore you already?” He laughed softly and kissed her forehead. The monk pushed his disheveled hair away from his face and sighed. “Come on, we should get to bed. It is late.”

 

Sango stuck her bottom lip out into a pout. “Do we really have to?” She yawned again, covering her mouth with her hand. “I'm really not that tired, honestly.”

 

Miroku shook his head. He took her hand into his and pulled her to stand. “I'm afraid so.”

 

Sango's shoulders slumped. She sighed, looking around the blue divan, finding her white ribbon and his hair tie. “If you say so.” She clutched both items in her fist. “Let's go before Shippo wakes up alone. Something tells me he'll only get into trouble if there isn't anyone with him.”

 

Miroku nodded. He interlaced his fingers with hers as he led her out into the hallway. They ascended the dark stairwell, heading towards their room. When they reached their door, Miroku stole a kiss from Sango. He whispered, “I hope you enjoyed tonight, Sango.”

 

Sango smiled. She opened his palm, slipping his hair bind into it. “I did.”

 

“Good.” Miroku opened the door and they entered quietly so not to disturb Shippo. The fox kit softly snored from his spot on the floor, the blanket covering everything but a tuft of red hair. Kirara mewled softly from her spot on the bed. Miroku whispered, “Ah, it looks like Kirara's decided you'll have the only bed.” Miroku let go of her hand and bent down to unpack his bedroll. “I'll sleep on the floor tonight. I promise to keep my hands from wandering.”

 

Sango hid a small smile behind her hand. She drew the covers back before taking her travel dress off, hanging it up on a peg by the door. The demon slayer remained in her slayer outfit. Sango crawled into the bed and frowned in Miroku's direction. She half-heartedly replied, “You had better, monk.”

 

Miroku unrolled his sleeping bag, slipping into it. He shook his head and sighed. The monk whispered, “Good night, Sango.”

 

Sango petted Kirara as the fire-cat settled onto a pillow next to her head. She said in a hushed tone, “Goodnight, Miroku.”