InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Drama of Edo High: A Modern Tale ❯ Undying Love ( Chapter 28 )

CHAPTER 28: UNDYING LOVE

Sango felt a small smile creep on her face, and Miroku's arms entwine around her waist. The Little Villa. A place she had heard of but had never expected to see. And he had brought her here, a place where romance is the only thing behind those warm doors. Miroku let go, and grabbed a hand gently.

"Come, on, don't want to be late do we?"

She smiled brightly at him and followed his hurried steps to the small place, the cold making its presence known to the couple. He opened the door for her and she stepped in gratefully. She gasped at the homey interior, old pictures hanging form the walls, worn but graceful wallpaper lining the walls. The carpet under her feet was lush but used.

"Its an old family restaurant, passed down from member to member," Miroku answered her unasked question.

"Miroku boy! It's been so long."

Sango turned to find a stout woman walking their way, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face was as wrinkled as a raisin, and tanned from years over the stove. Her blue white hair was put into a lopsided bun, and her friendly smile was only friendlier with the small dots of flour that crossed her cheek.

"Mama, you look well, and still in the kitchens," Miroku came over and kissed the old woman on the cheek, smiling, "how's Papa? And all the rugrats?"

Mama snorted and stuck a finger in Miroku's face firmly. When she spoke, it was thick with Italian, making Sango wonder why she came to Japan. She was fluent but her words were slurred. "You no come boy and make nice chat with me. You have not come for months and you expect me to welcome you with open arms?"

"Um, yes?" Miroku grinned.

The woman scowled but it was replaced with her smile, "of course! What Mama would I be if she didn't greet her children good? And Papa is doing fine, his back hurt a little but he is doing fine. He grumble day and night about Marco but what he expect? Marco is but a boy, and breaking dishes is what boy's do. Now tell me, who is fine young lady you bring for me to see?"

Sango was then greeted with a smile but a critical eye. The woman was analyzing her, making sure she was good enough for Miroku. Miroku only smiled at the old Italian, and grabbed Sango's hand lovingly. Mama didn't miss it.

"Mama, this is Sango, the love of my life."

Sango blushed hugely and looked away from the old woman's curious gaze. Mama turned back to Miroku and whipped him lightly with the towel she had. Miroku flinched back laughing. "Did Mama teach you to be stupid boy? No, I did not. So how come I see no ring on that slender finger of hers? I will see love when I see a ring on that finger!"

Sango sputtered for a second but was reassured when Miroku only laughed. "Excuse me ma'am, but I think it's a bit too early for…well…"

Mama turned her gaze again to her, giving her a toothy smile. She grasped Sango's hands, her own feeling like sandpaper worn down. "Please, call me Mama, everyone does. And is nice to meet you Sango. Please follow me, I will get you special table."

She walked off a little, and Miroku stayed till Sango was by his side again to take her hand. She blushed lightly, and followed his lead. They were led to the back of the small place, a round corner table for two, a red candle set neatly in the middle.

Sango scooted over for Miroku, ad looked up at Mama. "So, how do you know Miroku?"

"Mu use to bring him once a week, have nice dinner and friendly chat with me and Papa, and the family. Then Mu get older, and so does this boy and I don't see them anymore."

"Mu?"

"Mushin," Miroku answered lightly.

"Ah, yes he hated that I call him Mu, but I do cause that what he is, a cow. He use to plow all my food into his belly like starved dog. Now you two sit tight, and let Mama make you something special. Oh and Miroku, you have good time to make reservation, later tonight the couples are coming."

And with that, Mama left for the kitchen then the office to tell her husband that Miroku was here and with a girl.

Miroku watched a bit amused as Sango examined the restaurant warmly, smiling at small momentums that were scattered. Light Italian violins were playing and a man with a very good voice was singing Italian from the kitchen. Miroku heard this too and grinned.

"That would be Carlos, one of Mama's grand nephews. He really is a good singer but he refuses to leave the family restaurant."

"He is good," Sango commented, almost lulled.

Miroku saw the look and rolled his eyes. "Great, now I'm going to have to beat the snot out of Carlos for winning my true love away from me."

Sango giggled and turned away from the voice and traced a finger along Miroku's. "Don't worry, he's just a good singer. Anyways, how close are you with this family?"

"Mushin use to take me often and we'd talk. I was introduced to the children, and Mama took me in as a grandchild. She's very friendly and can act cranky, but she's laughing on the inside. Papa is the man of this place, old but full of life. He's always got something to say about something."

"Sounds like he and Kagome are related."

Miroku snorted. "Wouldn't be surprised." He then turned his attention to her relaxed eyes, losing his way in her dark depths lit with candlelight. "You know, you're the first I've ever taken here."

She looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yep, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Miroku came closer, his cologne almost drowning Sango in shivers. She tilted her head she felt his breath and he nuzzled her neck, tracing his nose up and nipped her earlobe, making her hand twitch on the tablecloth.

"Keep silly kissing for home, boy, I'm trying to run a business."

Sango yelped at the harsh tone, raspy voice scolding them like children. She looked to find a scrawny old man, trousers becoming too large for his small slightly bent frame, and gray whiskers moved with his mouth. But his almost black eyes dance with amusement. Miroku sighed in relieve.

"Papa."

"Who else were you expecting? Come in here with pretty girl and greet Mama, but do you stop to say hello to me? No, you go right to your girlfriend and swooning her. I swear, boys these days can't wait to grow up first."

Miroku raised a brow. "You haven't changed."

"You expecting maybe for me to tap dance and sing you lullaby? Stop silly nonsense and eat what Mama brings you." Just then, Mama came over with a plate of something steaming and making Sango drool. She looked upon it and her eyes lit up. It was a tantalizing chicken alfredo, thick white cream sauce poured smoothly over the top of pasta and grilled chicken. Miroku laughed.

"Mama! She's gonna have me taking her here every night!"

"Good! Then maybe one of those times I will see a ring and blushing bride." Papa rolled his eyes and gently shoved his wife away so she could leave the boy alone.

The meal was spent in close proximity of each other, each feeding the other occasional bites. They chatted lightly, laughing sometimes about nothing. A light wine was served to them, which they hardly drank. They were too caught up in the romance of it all.

Miroku's hand came back to life, but now he could control it. It lightly stroked a finger over her knee, earning him a shiver and Sango's bare feet hitching up his pant leg. Dessert came and went, a creamy chocolate shuffle topped with fresh strawberries. This too was fed in turn, the couple so close they could have been kissing. They left the wonderful little restaurant with a goodbye to the family, including the dish breaker Marco, and a promise to come back. When they were out of sight in the Mercedes, Mama turned to her husband, tears of joy bright in the night. Papa's face softened and gently held his wife of fifty years, the mother of his five children and grandmother to his twelve going on thirteen grandchildren, and so on to three great grandchildren.

On the ride, Miroku and Sango sat in contented silence, stomach full of rich food, and hearts happiest they've ever been. But Miroku couldn't mistake the feel of her hand in his thigh, sliding down to his knee. His heart skipped a beat, making him wonder if he'd have a heart attack and get them killed. He glanced at Sango to find her smiling gently, off in a far away place. He let go of the shift and took her hand, bringing her back quickly and giving him a nice heart-stopping smile.

"You have a good time?"

"Of course," she sighed, "I just don't want it to end."

"It doesn't have to if you don't want to."

She turned her maroon eyes to him, shining gently with love and amusement. "No I'm serious Sango. I'll take you wherever you want to go. All you have to do is tell me."

She smiled but looked out the window, really starting to think about what he said. He'd do it too. He'd stay up all night if that were what she wanted. He'd go to a skating rink in the middle of the night cause she wanted to. He'd do anything, cause she wanted to. Cause he loved her, and he'd do anything for her. Just knowing that made her heart pick up, and her fingers tingle. He loved her so much, and it's shown, but what has she done? Not as much as him, that's for sure. But she still loved him, with all her heart, all her being, and she wanted to prove it. But the question was how? She knew of nothing he wanted, of anything that would make him happy. Except, making her happy. And she realized that this night was as much for him as it was for her, because he made her happy tonight, so therefore he was happy.

"You know what, I don't want it to end."

He gave her a raised brow, "okay, so what do you want to do?"

"I don't know, and that's what's great about it. I don't know. I just want to be with you, be happy, live life to the fullest." She turned happy teared eyes to him. "I love you Miroku, just know that. I will always love you."

Suddenly, the car stopped and Miroku pulled up the side of the road. Sango looked around confused but then her lips were captured in a passionate kiss. She responded immediately but almost whined when he pulled away. He stared deep into her eyes, making her lip quiver in delight.

"You have no idea of what that means to me," Miroku whispered. "You have idea of what this night means. To see you happy like that, I'd do it all over again. And to hear those words like that, I'd live life over just to feel my heart lose control at them. Cause no matter what we do, no matter what we say, just know Sango, that with everything I am, I love you."

Sango let out one good sob before crushing his lips with hers; framing his face lightly while he drew the kiss to something she's never known before. Undying love. It would always be there, always beating strong and that's what they had. Undying love. They were two of the few people who were blessed enough to find the one they love so soon and enjoy it to the fullest. He pulled back form her, trying to give her air, but she only moved forward, trying to wrap her arms around his neck. But he took her wrists and had them between them. He rested his forehead to hers as a few more tears made their way form her and he held tightly to her hand as he pulled way.

Sango didn't pay attention to where they were going, didn't care, but all she knew it better be with Miroku. She'd go any where with him. So it didn't surprise her to find them at Miroku's house, or that he pulled her form the car and upstairs to his room. And she only sighed with he pulled her to the window, drawing back the curtains to let the moon fall in and embrace her in his warm arms to star gaze. Cause somewhere inside her she knew that no matter where they went, she was happiest with him. She pulled her happy eyes from the bright stars, and turned in his arms to cuddle his chest. He only nested his head in her hair, enjoying how she fit to him.

Sango swayed slightly in his arms and small step of a dance she knew. And he followed, the steps becoming more noticeably. And they danced. They danced to a song in their heads and a beat in their hearts. And it was at that time that something inside her said `wake up! You know it'. That was when she stopped, pausing in their dance. She knew it. What it was she had to find out.

She pulled away from him, concern crossing his brow in the slightest. She crooked her head to the side, thinking but not really. But before he could ask, she brushed his lips lightly, the kiss more than a whisper. He paused too, that same instinct telling him something was going on, something they couldn't control. He framed her face lightly, caressing her cheek. And that's when it broke loose. No heed, no concern of the future. It just felt right.

They met halfway, lips meeting in a heated kiss, a mating of lips deeper than any time before. It was slow yet hungering for more. She ran her hands up his chest, and she felt the quivering of her nerves starting her belly. They didn't break the kiss until he pulled the shawl form her shoulders, replacing it with sweet butterfly kisses down her shoulder. She shivered and exposed more throat. He felt the jacket slip off his arms somehow, and shoes were flung off somewhere. His hands caressed her lower back, molding her to him. She only went willing. The rest of their clothes found their way off by some weird magic, because they didn't care.

They were left with nothing but underwear, and he'd have no other way. His hands were slow, lighting quick fires that burned away slowly. The only sound that was heard was the rustle of cloth and her sighs. She felt his hands shake slightly as they near her panties, and she knew he was just as nervous. Hey, just because he had been a playboy, doesn't mean he always played it off. So maybe he was just like her, new to the game. But he could have fooled her. She felt him leave a searing trail of kisses with his tongue down her stomach, his maddening slow pace making it more enjoyable. The sighs to moans as he moved up, paying close attention to certain spots he struck over her breasts if she responded positively. Her hand smoothed over his back, desperate shaking telling him how she liked it. She groaned roughly as he hit a good spot, making his heart pound faster. But he left her panting as he traveled down again and paid attention to her legs.

He marveled in them, smooth alabaster columns that tasted like sweet candy. He could feel himself throbbing for her, and knew she felt he same, but it was her day. Her night. She begged him, pleaded to move on, make her feel beautiful, of which he could only comply. Fingers shaking, he pulled the straps of her panties down slowly, oh so slow over her legs, and he got rid of his. But it wasn't for him, this wasn't for him. It was for her. He came back up and kissed her lovingly, making her think for a second.

"I don't know what I'm doing, but I hope you can tell me."

"I trust you," she breathed. He nodded barely.

Her eyes went wide when she felt something hot wrap around her sensitive flesh, the only place she had never touched in any way. She gasped as she felt his tongue rubbed at her entrance, causing the same flesh to quiver in delight. She started shaking badly, making her feel like an earthquake had taken her over. He didn't enter, but merely rubbed at the entrance, making her heart beat faster than ever and her hands grasp at his head. She kept repeating `oh my god' in her head, but it never escaped her mouth but she was too breathless. When his tongue went by aging, almost there, she whimpered and pressed against his mouth. She gasped out a cry and she felt moving muscle slithered into her, and her eyes rolled. It rubbed the tender nub of flesh and she tightened her thighs around his head, making him know she liked it. And she felt her gut throb hotter as he continued the ministrations, her breath nothing but gasps, and her cries whimpers. She felt the pressure in her break, but it was smooth and slow, ebbing sweetly away and not the hot flash she always thought it was.

She was quivering in his arms and brought his lips hers, letting her tastes what they had done. She didn't pay attention as his hips lowered, and cried out as the hot rod that was her love entered her. He paused, unsure if he should, but she solved it for him by striking her hips sharply up, her innocence nothing but a pinch of pain before it was heat. It wasn't awkward and it wasn't fast, but slow and sweet, something so deep they felt it in their souls. And she cried, she cried as he took her, because it meant so much. He was careful and slow, going slightly up with each stroke to hit the most sensitive flesh. He never once thought of going faster, there was no need to. They came together, a slow heart wrenching wave that pulsed through them like electricity. And with him still inside her, he gathered her close to never let go again. She cuddled to his chest the after shock still coursing through her. And they fell asleep knowing one thing.

They hadn't had sex, they didn't rut, and they didn't kill curiosity. No it was more than that, it was love. They had made love for the first time in their life.