InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Cacophony ❯ Movement IV: Presto ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Cacophony

-x-

Movement IV: Presto

All she could see was that taxi heading straight towards her. She didn't have time to scream, to leap out of the way-

In a matter of split seconds she saw the taxi screech to a shuddering halt barely three feet in front of them and simultaneously felt herself lifted off her feet and into the air.

No, not in the air-just in Miroku's arms. He was breathing heavily, his dilated pupils standing out in his purple eyes as he looked down at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…" she said, trying to catch her breath. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are-are you?"

"Now I am," he said, cracking a grin. Still holding her, he jumped back onto the sidewalk where they would be (relatively) safe.

The taxi driver, who was swearing up a storm, carefully maneuvered around the pedestrians and then shot down the street like a bat out of hell once again.

"Remind me why I wanted to come here for college again…?" Miroku muttered.

Sango sighed and rested her head against his chest for a minute before wrapping her arms around his neck, preparing to climb down onto firm ground… when she suddenly felt a hand placed in a not so favorable place.

She shrieked and tried to shove him away-while she was still in his arms. The result was both of them tumbling to the ground in a heap, Sango swearing and Miroku laughing.

"What was that about?" she ground out, poking his chest hard. "You thought you would take advantage of the moment and cop a feel, huh?"

"I couldn't help myself."

"I'm sure you couldn't!" she huffed, landing a good blow in the ribs.

"Hey now-" He grinned up at her. "What's all the fuss about? You know you like it on top."

She scrambled off of him and onto the ground, scooting as far away as she could. "Pervert!"

People were staring now, but she didn't care. That little-taking advantage of her like that! She was this close to beating him to a pulp.

Miroku now stood and dusted himself off dignifiedly and offered her a hand.

Ha, yeah right. She pointedly ignored the hand and rose to her feet. "You can forget that coffee."

His smile didn't even falter. In fact, it grew. "Aw…please? Even if I promise to be on my best behavior?" He kneeled down, taking her hands in his.

"Look, mommy!" Sango heard a little girl say. "They're gettin' married!"

Sango jerked her hands out of his grasp. "Do you take some perverse pleasure in humiliating me? Oh wait…I forgot…you are a pervert!"

"A silver tongue," he clucked, rising to his feet again. "Fortunately, my dear, I have thick skin. And a hard head. Let's go-I promise this coffee will be worth it."

"It must be some damn good coffee," she said. "But the answer is still 'no.'"

What was with that smile on his face…?

"Well, we know how to fix that, don't we?"

"Hamaguchi-you stay away from me-!"

And yet again she found herself swept up into his arms; only this time she was carried across the street, with no blaring horns, screeching brakes, and insane taxi drivers. "You-you-put me down!" she spluttered, trying to climb out of his arms.

"As you wish, milady," he said, dropping her in one of the café chairs underneath the quaint little umbrellas that adorned the wrought-iron tables. "You wait right here while I go order our coffee."

"Fine," she huffed, considering escaping the minute he turned his back… but decided that was too rude. She wasn't without manners. But then again, he deserved to be left alone…

"And don't you dare think of sneaking off while I'm ordering the drinks," he said, sending her a cheeky grin.

There he goes with that mind-reading thing again! God! "I won't," she sighed.

"What would you like to drink, Sango?" he asked, lingering by her chair.

"Hot chocolate. With marshmallows. Big puffy ones."

"Hot chocolate," he repeated in amusement. "Okay, that I can do."

"Good. Because I am not in a mood to be reckoned with."

"I shall appease the beast with sugary foodstuffs."

She nodded in satisfaction.

He sighed theatrically. "You're so demanding."

"You're the one who insisted we go for coffee."

"That I was. How silly of me to forget." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "I'll return shortly."

"'Kay…" She watched him leave, waiting until he was inside the building to breathe a sigh of relief.

What was it about that man that made her so…jittery?

Miroku crossed his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as the line crawled forward. Unbeknownst to him, he had a slight frown on his face-paired with his navy collared shirt and windswept hair, Miroku had unwittingly struck a model pose.

Inuyasha's words kept echoing around in his head. "All the girls you go out with are those that respond positively to your flirting and groping, which indicates that they are air-headed bimbos. You find a woman that slaps you topside for doing such a thing, and you've landed yourself a June Cleaver."

Oh, Sango had smacked him topside, all right. She'd landed a few good blows to his ribs as well. He touched his abdomen gingerly, and chuckled a bit when he found a few sore spots. That girl really can hit-no wimpy stuff for her.

"Sir? What would you like?"

"Huh?" He snapped out of his trance. "Oh-two hot chocolates, please. Extra marshmallows."

The girl behind the cash register raised a dark brown eyebrow which suspiciously didn't match her light blonde hair. "We don't have marshmallows here. Sorry."

"Oh…that's okay then. Just give me the hot chocolates."

Sango drummed her fingers on the table, lazily watching the wind blow newspapers, coats, hats, and umbrellas. It was rather entertaining to see people chase after various clothing items while trying not to hit anyone.

"Here." Miroku appeared beside her, setting her hot chocolate on the table. "Is that chocolatey enough for you? I ordered extra chocolate."

"Where're the marshmallows?" she asked, not wanting to sound petty, but feeling as if she'd been gypped. Hot chocolate without marshmallows? That was like…a jelly sandwich with no peanut butter.

"We're going to go get some now."

"We are?"

"Yup. There has to be a food mart somewhere around here."

"We're going to buy marshmallows."

"You want them, don't you?"

She sighed and stood. "The things you have to do for good service these days."

He smirked. "Go file a lawsuit so that every coffee shop is required to have an extra stock of marshmallows in the back cupboard."

"Maybe I will," she said thoughtfully, taking a sip of her hot chocolate as they strolled down the sidewalk. She breathed in deeply and smiled contentedly. "It smells like Christmas."

Miroku shot her a quizzical look. "It's only the beginning of November."

"Yes, but…I don't know, the wind, the hint of snow, scent of the trees-whatever, it smells like Christmas."

He grinned. "And you said you weren't a romantic."

She bristled. "I'm not."

" 'It smells like Christmas,'" he mimicked. "Now if that's not a romantic statement, I don't know what is."

"What makes you the expert on romanticism?"

"I have a degree in romantic literature."

"Literature from the romantic era? Or actually trashy-slash-romance novels?"

He sighed. "Damn. That's what I get for asking out a smart woman."

"Scary to realize your little jokes don't work on some women, huh?"

"Just drink your hot chocolate."

She did so and smiled softly. "Mmm… I would almost turn romantic for this."

"Good to know," he murmured to himself.

"There's a grocery," she said. "Want to see if they have any marshmallows?"

"By all means-" He held the door open for her and they stepped inside, letting the warmth of the store settle in.

"Much better," said Sango, automatically moving down the front of the store, looking down the aisles for marshmallows. "There they are!" she said, sprinting down one of the aisles. She pulled the bag of jumbo marshmallows off the shelf and inspected it carefully. "It'll do."

She lobbed the bag at Miroku, who caught it deftly and said, "I'll pay for it."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to."

"You paid for the drinks."

"With which the marshmallows were supposed to come."

Unable to think of a good reply, Sango reached out to grab the bag, but he held it above her head and grinned down at her. "You're cute when you're mad."

"Liar." But she felt the blood rising to her face.

"You're blushing," he said gleefully.

"Yes, I know."

"Doesn't anyone ever compliment you?"

"Not normally, no."

"Really?" he said, surprised. He'd been joking.

"They're too scared to. The last man that called me beautiful was sent to the infirmary with a bloody nose."

Miroku stared at her. "Why?"

"Because I'd heard him tell another woman not five minutes before that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, and that he would like to see that beauty in its entirety sometime."

"So he was a lecher desperate for a one-night stand-does that justify beating him up?"

"Yes. He was my boyfriend."

Realization dawned on him. "Oh…" He lowered his arm, giving her plenty of time to steal the marshmallows. But she didn't. She couldn't when he was staring at her like that.

"So he was a lying, cheating bastard, is that it?"

"Those were my exact words." His gaze was getting disconcerting. "Look, it's okay. It was a long time ago."

"It's not okay if you're still carrying around emotional baggage."

"I'm not!" she fired back, her eyes flashing. "I'm just a little more wary of men who flippantly give compliments to get what they want."

"Like me?" he said, his eyes narrowing.

"No, not like you! That's not what I was saying. I mean, you could be that kind of man…I don't know-I haven't known you long enough…" She stopped, aware that she was babbling. Curses. "Let's just drop the subject, okay?!"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Sure, Sango. Anything for you."

He turned and walked towards the checkout counter, pulling a few dollars out of his pocket.

Damn it, she'd offended him. Again.

Sango wearily rubbed her forehead. From how things were looking, she was probably going to be single her entire life. Which wasn't looking that bad at the moment. No worries, no men, no consequences…

So why did she feel so lonely?

Miroku heard Sango tentatively come up behind him and shift from foot to foot. He wanted to turn around and reassure her that all was well, that she shouldn't regret her words… but he didn't really feel like doing such at the moment.

Did he have a sign on his forehead that said: "WARNING! LECHER!" or something? What was it about him that always made women assume he was an egotistic playboy? Was it his confidence that only came from self-assurance? Or was it that he liked to flirt? Did that necessarily make him dangerous? Flirting was the best possible way to assess a person; if he didn't like a girl, he wouldn't ask them out. In his opinion, this was better than a man who was "committed" to a woman for about a week before dumping her.

He sighed and handed the cashier a five dollar bill before scooping the bag of fluffy white puffs into his hand. "Keep the change." He turned to Sango and offered her his arm: "Shall we go finish our hot chocolate, then?"

"Sure," she said a little uncertainly. "You aren't…mad?"

"At you? No."

"But you are mad."

"I didn't say that."

"But-"

"Sango. It's okay. How 'bout we just enjoy the rest of the evening together?"

She bit her lip, a habit that he realized to mean she was nervous or unsure. "All right."

They wandered outside the shop and stopped underneath the dark green awning. Miroku ripped the bag of marshmallows open and allowed Sango to take her pick. She smiled a little and scooped out four marshmallows, shoving all of them into her drink at once. The chocolate liquid rose dangerously towards the edge of the cup, but she quickly took a sip.

"Ah…now it's perfect."

"Good." Miroku dropped a couple of marshmallows into his drink and then tucked the rest of the bag into one of the pockets of his cargo pants.

They walked along the sidewalks for a while in silence, watching the rest of the city's population pass them by. It wasn't really one of those comfortable silences between friends-it was more of those silences in which both parties are wincing and trying to think of a topic without sounding lame.

"It's cold," said Sango finally.

"Yeah."

"Think we'll get snow anytime soon?"

"Hopefully. So…what are you majoring in?"

"Haven't decided yet. Possibly Art History with a minor in music. You? Oh wait-you're a music major, aren't you?"

"Actually, no. I'm majoring in photography. I'm only minoring in music."

"What! With your talent you could easily be Principal chair of the New York Philharmonic! Maybe even the London Symphony!"

"But that's not what I want to do," he said, giving her a little smile. "Thank you for your praise, but believe me when I say there are a thousand other people whose talents match mine exactly. It would take many more backbreaking years of work before I could earn that position."

"Don't be afraid of hard work if the result will make you happy." She nearly smacked herself when she realized how accusatory that statement sounded.

"Oh, I'm not lazy," he said lightly, not seeming to be offended, "it just doesn't appeal to me. If I really wanted to be a professional performing musician, I would work my ass off to become one… but the cello's merely a hobby for me. An escape. Like yours, I presume."

"Yeah," she murmured. Though I'm nowhere near as good as you are. "Do you do anything with your photography?"

"Well, when I'm not modeling, I photograph the other models."

That's right. I'd almost forgotten he was a model. "Do you enjoy it?"

"Sure. I get to take pictures of sexy women for hours on end."

She rolled her eyes, although she'd practically invited that one. "You work for Playboy, don't you."

"No," he said, laughing a bit. "But it's not far off."

"I can imagine."

"You need to let me take your picture sometime. In the sunset, with the light reflecting off your hair. My professor would die of happiness."

She shrugged self-consciously. "If it'd make you happy."

"It would."

Sango checked her watch and realized how late it was. "I think we should start heading back now. I need to get home in time to finish some reading and then get to bed."

"Just how early do you go to sleep?"

"Later than you'd ever want to know; but since these early morning rehearsals are robbing me of my sleep-in time, I figured I need to catch up before I completely crash."

"You sure this isn't just an excuse to escape my company?"

"No, I swear! I really need to-" She caught his smirk. He was joking. "Very funny."

"But you're so fun to tease."

"Whatever you say, Miroku."

Half an hour later, they were back at the studio, their cellos still on the stoop, as promised. Hakadoushi was still standing there, face as blank as ever.

"Well, I guess you were right," she said, hefting Kirara onto her back. "Thanks for the hot chocolate."

"My pleasure." He picked up his Pedronelli, but let it in his hand. "I'll walk you home."

"That's not necessary," she hastily assured him.

"But my chivalry demands it," he said, shooting her an insufferable grin. "Come on, I thought you had reading to do."

She heaved a sigh and began to walk. "I guess I can't stop you if you try and follow me."

"Nope." He quickly fell into step with her.

"Isn't this out of your way?"

"On the contrary…"

She internally groaned.

"-my apartment's only half an hour away-in this direction," he finished. "I live closer to the NYU campus than Columbia."

"Oh." Peachy.

They reached her apartment complex without mishap, and they stood in front of the doorway, shivering in the cold.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate," Sango said, wondering what type of goodbye he was expecting. "There's nothing better than having hot chocolate with marshmallows on a cold day-oh, which reminds me…" She took Kirara off her back and shrugged out of his jacket. "Thanks for the loan."

"No problem." He slung it over his arm and pulled her into a brief hug. "Stay warm." And with that he turned and walked off, a few female heads turning as he passed.

Sango watched him for a moment or two and then sighed. She opened the door to the lobby of her apartment with her foot and disappeared inside.

Kagome stepped out of the bathroom to find the phone ringing. "Why do I feel like all I do is answer this thing?" she murmured to herself as she closed the door and sprinted for the phone. "Hello?"

"Kagome, what the hell?!"

"Inuyasha?"

"You're an hour late! You were supposed to call me at five, but you didn't, and I've been alternating between calling your cell and house phone for the past 60 minutes!"

"Inuyasha. What's this all about? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"Yes, but there's a blizzard outside! I was afraid you'd gotten lost in it or something!"

"A blizzard, Inuyasha?"

"Pretty damn close to one!"

Yeah, it's probably a flurry. "Sorry, I was in the bathtub. So it's snowing, huh?"

"In the tub for over an hour?"

"I like baths, okay?" she said defensively.

"Okay," he said, backing off a bit. "Sorry. I was worried about you."

Her temper deflated like a popped balloon. Inuyasha seemed like an overprotective jerk, but in the end, he was really just concerned about her. "Thanks, Inuyasha."

"Welcome." Then: "Hey, do you know if Sango's home?"

"No. Why?"

"Miroku just headed over there to check on her. Supposedly the power in her area's gone out. He was worried about her."

Kagome grinned. "Was he now?"

"I know that tone of voice. I think I'll go back to sleep now and leave you to your devious little plans."

"I love you, Inuyasha."

"G'night, Kagome."

Tonight she didn't even bother to worry about when he'd get the guts to actually say "I love you" back to her. She placed the phone in her receiver and looked longingly at her bed, knowing that she would be sleeping on pins and needles all night.

Sango woke up shivering. "Damn, it's cold!" She drew her blankets around her more tightly. "What happened to all the heat?" she mumbled, not wanting to budge from her bed.

A few more minutes of shivering, and Sango finally decided that she'd better go check her heating unit to make sure it was still working. She lazily rolled off the bed, pulling her comforter with her, and padding out of the bedroom and into the main room with her comforter draped around her like a royal robe.

Blearily she stared at the unit, vaguely aware that it wasn't making any noise. She held her hand up against the slats and felt no heat emanating from it. "Dang, what's the matter with this piece of crap?"

She fumbled for the light switch on the wall, flipping it upwards.

Nothing happened.

"What the…" She flipped it up and down, growing more frustrated when no lights suddenly came to life. "Are all my stupid lights burned out?" She moved to the kitchen and flipped on the fluorescent lights… but yet again nothing happened.

"Don't tell me the friggin' power went out!" she groaned, sinking to the floor in a heap. "God, it's cold in here…" She huddled herself into a ball, trying to keep warm off her body heat. "Maybe I'll just sleep in layers tonight."

Too bad she was so lazy. She was still tired and she did not feel like moving from her spot on the floor. Wonder what time it is…? She couldn't see the clock without her contacts in either. Oh well. I'll just sit here for a while until I feel like getting up and finding some more sweaters and socks.

Which she knew probably wouldn't be till morning. When she had to get up.

Oh, the curse of laziness.

Her ears perked up. Someone was knocking at her door? She moaned and pulled her comforter more snugly around her. Probably her neighbor, Mrs. Pinkley. The woman was four-foot-ten, with hair about a foot tall to make up for the shortness, nearsighted, and terrified of the dark. She still slept with a nightlight. Once when she was sick and bedridden, her nightlight had burned out around 4 a.m. Sango, who had just fallen in bed an hour before after a long performance, awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. On the other line was Mrs. Pinkley, requesting that Sango hurry over next door and change the bulb of her nightlight.

Sorry, lady, I ain't changing no nightlights tonight.

Mrs. Pinkley started knocking more persistently. Sango resolutely stayed mute. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep…?

"Sango?"

Sango jumped. That voice was definitely masculine. And unless there was something Mrs. Pinkley was hiding, she was guessing it wasn't her neighbor at the door…

"Sango, are you in there? I wanted to see if you were all right."

Wait a second… "Miroku?" she called, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. It could be any weirdo out there, and she'd just given him a name to claim! Stupid, stupid!

"Sango? Open the door, please."

"How do I know you're really Miroku?"

"Because I'm a lecher who really just wants to see you in your sleepwear."

…yeah, it was him.

"What do you want?" she called, now really not wanting to get up.

"I was worried about you! You have no electricity, no heat-"

Was he really? "Well…thank you… but I'm too lazy to get off the floor. Can't you just pick the lock or something?"

She could almost see him rolling his eyes. "Sango, get off your lazy butt right now and open this door."

"Yeah? What'll you give me for it?"

"Heat."

"Really? Wait…what kind of heat?"

"Just open the door, you skeptic."

"Fine," she sighed, reluctantly getting to her feet. She opened the door and demanded, "What time is it?"

Miroku looked mildly disappointed. "You're not in sexy lingerie."

"Of course not, idiot, it's snowing outside. I have about three layers on right now and I'm still freezing! And where's that heat you promised me?"

"Right here." He wrapped her in his arms and picked her up, bridal style. He walked through the doorjamb and shut the door with his foot before walking over to the couch.

"Do you have a propensity for picking up girls and carrying them places?" she mumbled, her head resting on his chest. He was practically radiating body heat; it was making her sleepy. "And what time is it, anyway?"

"Only a little after ten."

"That's all?" She was disappointed. Only two hours of sleep? She'd hoped that it was at least two a.m. or something… "Man." She blinked. "And how did you know where I lived?"

He smirked. "Go back to sleep, Sango."

"No!" she said, but spoiled the effect with a rather large yawn.

"I'll make it a bedtime story, how's that?" He'd settled them on the couch so that he was leaning against the armrest and Sango was curled up at his side.

"Don't wanna fall asleep with you here," she muttered.

"You don't trust me?"

"No…"

"Fair enough. If I behave myself tonight, will my credibility increase?"

"Maybe…" He really was warm. And she was so tired…

"Inuyasha knew your address through Kagome," he said in his melodic baritone voice. It was lulling Sango to sleep. "I'd already seen your building, so finding your apartment wasn't hard at all."

"Why'd you come?" she murmured, half-asleep.

He stroked his thumb over her hair, pulling her closer to him. "I was worried about you."

"Why…?" She shivered and snuggled closer to the heat.

Miroku smiled gently at her instinctive gesture. The feelings that this girl evoked… "Because you had no power. And I didn't want you to freeze to death tonight."

"How…thoughtful…" she was barely lucid now.

After that, no more words were exchanged. Miroku sat there for a long time, just watching her sleep, until he finally nodded off to sleep himself, using her head as a pillow.

Outside, the snow dusted the city a clean white, blanketing the streets, buildings, and few trees with a sugary powder. The never-ending sound of the city that never sleeps was muffled and all was quiet as the two young musicians took comfort in each other, their cares and fears left behind as they journeyed through the subconscious together.

Author's Notes: wow, look, I actually finished this! I'm feel so accomplished… I didn't think the cliffhanger was that evil (did you really think I'd kill my favorite pairing off? hah). To answer some questions, yes, I play in a youth orchestra (flute and piccolo) and I'm in marching and concert band at school, so please excuse the band jokes. I like to choose topics I'm comfortable with, lol. I could never write a fic about, say, football. I hope every had a good Christmas! Please tell me what you thought of the chapter, I love to hear from you guys! (--loves reviewers--) Bye for now…