InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Facets of the Living Jewel ❯ Ex luna, scientia: Secundus ( Chapter 57 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or the other characters. Ms. Takahashi does. I do, however, own this story's plot and I like the demon side of Inuyasha!

 

Thanks to bluezinthos for nominating `Facets' for Best Characterization: InuDemon in IYFG's 3rd quarter awards. I appreciate the thought (even though it was disqualified) and I love InuDemon, too! A big thanks to Ren for subsequently nominating `Facets' under Best Characterization: Inuyasha and to Patchcat for seconding the nomination.

 

`Facets' has hit some huge milestones in the last few months: over 1,000 combined reviews, over 100,000 hits, and it's in the top 50 most visited stories at MediaMiner. Thank you! I appreciate the faith you show in my story and I am so blessed to have such kind readers!

 

Finally, thank you to Catherine the Great for helping me realize why this chapter was giving me fits. You are such a support and a wonderful friend!

 

 

Warning! Lemon later in the chapter.

 

 

Ex luna, scientia: Secundus

By Licentia poetica

 

Miroku whirled as he felt a massive surge of youki coming from the hill behind the village. `Gods!' He began to run toward the village, but his pace slowed abruptly as he recognized the essence behind the youki. `That's Inuyasha.' Moving at a brisk walk he gave a sudden grin as he felt another power rise to counteract it, effectively hiding both auras from his senses. `Ah, Kagome. You and Inuyasha always balance each other, whether you know it or not.' He caught up with Midoriko as she passed through the area of thick brush that he had traveled through earlier with Sango. She looked back and smiled at him.

 

“Well, it appears that Inuyasha's demon has met his match,” Midoriko said with calm humor. Cocking her head and looking up at the deepening twilight as if searching the emerging stars, she continued “Kagome's powers amaze me; his youki is very strong and he has never learned to mask it.”

 

“Yes. It is interesting how well they balance, Sensei.” Miroku looked at her curiously and glanced up at the sky. Seeing nothing but the waning colors of the sunset, a few stars, and the blazing full moon he looked back down at her. “Did you know that Inuyasha would become full demon tonight?”

 

Midoriko abandoned her search of the heavens and sighed. “No, although I suspected it might happen soon. It is critical that all aspects of the jewel balance, which is why I asked Yourei Taisei to teach Inuyasha to accept both aspects of his heritage.” She gave another cursory glance at the sky while murmuring “Ah well, I will find out soon enough and it does seem that Inuyasha's demon half is learning restraint.” She turned to walk along the path again, but before she stepped forward she hesitated and glanced back over her shoulder at Miroku. “Do you understand now why he represents courage?”

 

Miroku pondered for a moment and then gave her a teasing grin. “I'm not sure why he doesn't represent family! He has at least two personalities in his body.”

 

Midoriko gave a hearty laugh and shook her head. “As do I, but I remind you that I am a powerful miko and I balance the Shikon Jewel! Be careful not to offend either of us!” She raised her nose in the air and gave him a mock glare before turning and walking toward the village again.

 

Miroku laughed, but as he followed her he immediately sobered. `I forget that she fights her battle in the jewel while she teaches us here and controls Kikyou's personality.' As they moved to an area where they could walk side by side, he glanced down at her face, noting that there were signs of fatigue and strain; however, they were overshadowed by an expression of peaceful contentment. She looked up at him and smiled, and he felt a surge of hope. `If she can be so full of joy and compassion while fighting those battles, surely I can have hope that the Wind Tunnel will be contained tomorrow.' He smiled back at her, his spirits lifting for the first time in days.

 

“You have not answered my question, Miroku. Do you understand why Inuyasha represents courage? It is not because of his ability to risk his body in battle.” She stopped and looked at him earnestly. “You must be prepared to help Kagome tomorrow. The strain of the first contact will be great and the more you understand and accept, the easier it will be for her to balance all four of your minds.” She turned and gestured toward the hill behind Kaede's hut. “Which aspect of Inuyasha is being courageous by allowing the demon its freedom? The demon or the human?”

 

Miroku pursed his lips in thought. “He has feared his demon half ever since it was released when we were trapped in Gatenmaru's poison cocoon together; he was a vicious, mindless killer. Yet he fears being human as well because he sees his human half as weak.” He paused and Midoriko raised her eyebrows in query. He stood beside her in silence for a moment and when he finally spoke his voice was introspective. “It would be easiest to say that the human half is showing courage by allowing itself to be completely submerged—that has happened rarely and, when it has happened, the human has awakened to the carnage that the demon has wrought. But as I remember back, I think that the demon fought for control in the cocoon and failed. I do know that Inuyasha's youki spiked when the demon was forced to emerge by Kaguya's spell, and I can't help but think that the demon fears its propensity for violence just as much as the human half does.”

 

He cocked his head, musing more to himself than to the Time Lord standing quietly by his side. “Inuyasha fights himself—just as I do when I seek enlightenment. Thus I also believe that there is a third personality to consider; perhaps the most courageous of them all. The hanyou.” He glanced at Midoriko, noting her raised eyebrows and quiet nod of thoughtful agreement. “He fears to let either side have control. He hates the human nights and must fear this night as well.” He paused for a moment then said softly “I believe that they are all showing courage, either by taking control or ceding it.” He gave a self-deprecating smirk and clenched his cursed hand. “Perhaps I can find my own answers in Inuyasha's decision to take the risk.”

 

Midoriko's smile broadened and she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “And you have just confirmed that you represent wisdom.” She gave his arm a soft pat and walked slightly ahead of him, heading for Kaede's hut. “Come and use your wise ways to calm Sango.” She did not notice that he paled visibly at her casual remark and walked behind her in uncomfortable silence.

 

Miroku was perplexed. `How am I supposed to calm Sango? I'm not even sure how to interact with her right now.' He gave a sigh to release the tension that had arisen in him from Midoriko's comment. `Sensei feels she is frightened, but I can't help but think something else is going on. I don't mind her striking me when I deserve it but she is violently unpredictable today. And using sex to calm her? How will that help her balance?'

 

Midoriko glanced back at him as he hesitated near the back of Kaede's hut.

 

“What troubles you, Miroku?”

 

“Sensei…” for the first time in his life he felt awkward discussing the intimate subject. `Normally I could misdirect her thoughts by making a hentai remark, but how can I discuss sex without betraying Sango?'

 

“Back at the meadow…you intimated…how will I…” he finally gave a helpless gesture and spoke bluntly. “I am not sure how to follow your advice about using sex to balance and calm Sango. Is there some special position that you can suggest or a practice that you can impart to me?”

 

Midoriko bent her head, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“Sensei?”

 

She gave a deep sigh and looked at him over her fingers, speaking calmly and patiently. “How in the name of all the gods did you interpret that I was suggesting sexual intercourse from what I said in the meadow?”

 

Miroku gaped at her, truly at a loss. “Wha…what else could you have meant?”

 

Rolling her eyes, she lowered her fingers and muttered “Sex. Wisdom. Gods!” She held out both her hands in a gesture of frustration. “Miroku, thank the gods that you don't represent love in the Living Jewel! It would be seriously imbalanced.”

 

Already angry at her muttered words, he stiffened at this reprimand. “I recall you said that I should know many ways to reassure a woman and make her feel part of a family,” he retorted in an angry tone. “I am not a fool and I do not appreciate being treated as one, but I am a male and my interpretation of your words was natural. If you meant something else by your words be more explicit!”

 

Suddenly Midoriko began to laugh and he had to take deep, calming breaths to keep his anger in check. She reached out to touch him but obviously thought better of it when he narrowed his eyes at her gesture. She withdrew her hand, still chuckling.

 

“Ah, Miroku! Men and women think so differently.” She gave him a short bow. “I apologize for offending you and for taking umbrage at your interpretation of my advice.” As his face relaxed she patted his arm. “Remember the four aspects of love, Miroku? I trust that you will see that there may be more than one answer here. She represents family and that means acceptance, respect, trust, and loyalty. Has she not shown you these aspects?” She stared intently at him for a moment and smiled as he nodded. “Good. Now support her by reaffirming those attributes and reflecting them back to her.”

 

She nodded at him again with her eyebrows raised in silent query and he gave a sigh. `How the hell do I do that, especially with Sango's moodiness today?' As Midoriko continued to look at him inquiringly he finally shrugged and voiced a half-question, half-statement. “Reflect them…back.”

 

“Yes.”

 

He hesitated, hoping she would clarify just what it was he was supposed to do. `I'm supposed to represent wisdom, damnit! Why is all the pressure on me? Everyone else fits their role perfectly, but I have to look wise and understanding and…damn!' As she continued to remain silent, he swallowed and prompted “Reaffirm the attributes of acceptance, respect, trust, and loyalty.” He made the mistake of nodding his head as if he wasn't completely baffled.

 

She smiled and patted him on the arm. “Good! I knew you would understand.” She turned around and began to walk to the hut again, leaving him absolutely flummoxed. Before she turned the corner to go into the front of the house, she looked back at him with an expression of mischief on her face. “And Miroku? As both a woman and a Time Lord, I can tell you that sex is much more than the act of intercourse itself, especially to women. Perhaps that will help you overcome the mysteries of this issue?” She gave a girlish giggle and flitted around the corner before he could speak. A moment later he heard the sound of the bamboo curtain being pushed aside.

 

`Damn, damn, damn! I will never understand Sango! Or any woman! That much is obvious, and Midoriko is forcing me to find my own path of wisdom. Damnit!' He stayed behind the hut, genuinely puzzled and still a bit angry at Midoriko's attitude. A murmur of voices came from inside the hut, and he quirked an eyebrow as he heard Sango state that she was going to go bathe and wash her hair. `Hhhmmm...the possibilities. I can always offer to guard her while I try to think how to help her balance.' He cringed as he thought of her probable reaction to an offer to accompany her to the hot spring.

 

`Gods, why couldn't I have picked a normal, retiring, delicate little flower of a woman? I've had enough opportunities.' He listened to the muffled conversation in the hut, and suddenly the sound of Kaede's gruff voice gave him a burst of inspiration. He grinned to himself and squared his shoulders. `The healing ritual I was discussing with Kaede! I must get one of those oils I bought in Kagome's time.' His grin broadened and he sauntered toward his backpack, left neglected for days on the other side of Kaede's pile of firewood. `Delicate flowers would bore me in moments. I prefer my lovely, complex, distracting Sango with her marvelous hips and long, lithe legs. It's too bad that it's her arm that needs healing.' He stepped around the edge of the woodpile and stopped short when he saw his backpack.

 

Something or someone had opened the pack and the contents were strewn around haphazardly.

 

He glanced around but could feel no threatening auras, so he pursed his lips and went forward to see what damage had been done and what was missing. He squatted down to pick up his belongings and found that they were intact, if a bit dusty, and only one thing had been taken.

 

The binoculars.

 

`Damn! Why would anyone take them? The villagers have no idea what they are and Kagome would have lectured me if she found them. Sango and Inuyasha would not have taken them without commenting…Kohaku? Somehow I feel he would have placed the rest of the contents back in the pack to make it look like it hadn't been disturbed.'

 

He repacked the rest of the items and hoisted the pack over his shoulder, keeping out a clear plastic bottle of oil and reading its label in the bright moonlight. `“This essential oil promotes physical and emotional well-being by bringing a harmonic balance to the energy centers of the body. It is also beneficial in reducing stress and creating an overall feeling of well-being.” Such wonders in Kagome's time…I hope I can return again.' He stood up and began to walk around the side of the hut, but paused as he heard Sango step out of the front door.

 

“I'll be fine,” she called back inside, her voice sounding tired and irritable. “I'm sure Kirara is around somewhere close and she'll keep me safe. I'd rather you set up a barrier around the hut.”

 

`She's still upset and Kirara isn't out here.' He frowned in concentration for a moment. `Actually, I haven't seen Kirara all afternoon and she was not at dinner.' He gave a mental shrug. `It is unlike the neko to leave her mistress for that long, but it affords me an opportunity to get Sango alone.' He waited in silence as Sango took the path to the spring, stepping quietly forward to watch her walk away, her unbound hair swaying with each step and her lissome body covered in only a lightweight summer yukata. `It would be the wisest course to give her a few moments before I suggest the ritual.'

 

After she passed beyond his sight he ducked into the hut to place his backpack by the door and grab a few of Kagome's towels. He gave a nod to Kaede. “I plan to try that healing ritual on Sango's arm tonight, Lady Kaede. She is going to the hot spring?”

 

Kaede gave him a flat stare with her good eye. “Aye, as if ye did not already know, houshi.” Finally she grinned at him. “If ye survive the beating she will undoubtedly give ye for disturbing her at the spring the ritual will be a blessing to her. Make sure to hurry so that she is still decently clothed, or ye may not live to see the morning. Do ye remember the pressure points?”

 

He grinned and gave her a short bow. “The top of the foot between the first and second toe and the outer side of the arm above the wrist will be where I will concentrate my energies, Lady Kaede. I thank you again for your advice.” She smiled back in response and turned to her sleeping pallet.

 

He turned to Midoriko next and gave her a bow of respect. “I have given thought to what you said to me, Sensei. I believe I understand now how to help Sango balance and I thank you for your teaching.” She smiled but said nothing, so he stood up, gathered several towels, and gave her a wink as he swept out the door. `And perhaps I was not mistaken in my own interpretation of your teachings, as well. I can always hope for something that would help me forget the Wind Tunnel until tomorrow.'

 

He strode along the path at a sedate pace, tucking his staff under his arm to quiet the sound from the rings and wishing he had the binoculars. `Only to help me determine the best time to ask her permission to perform the ritual, of course.' He chuckled quietly to himself and slowed as he neared the spring, careful to make as little noise as possible. With the stealth of long practice, he left the path and maneuvered into a position in the deep shadows where he could see her without her becoming aware of his presence.

 

Her back was turned toward him and his groin pulsed as she removed her yukata and stretched her nude body up on her toes, reaching over her head. The moonlight accentuated the supple curves of her thighs and hips. `Blessings of the gods, she is beautiful! Those taut, lithe muscles.'

 

Fighting an uncharacteristic twinge of conscience for spying on her, he stepped further into the shadows and grimaced as he stepped on a twig which broke with a slight snapping sound. Sango's head whipped around, her hair reflecting the moonlight in a liquid arc. “Kirara?” she called quietly. “Is that you?” She frowned suddenly, using her arms to cover herself and saying gruffly “Hentai monk! That better not be you!”

 

He kept absolutely still, barely breathing, and waited until she relaxed again, taking in a slow, calming breath only when he saw her reach for the bandage on her upper arm. `Ah, I had forgotten that she had another injury.' She stared off into space as her fingers hesitated on the edges of the tape that bound it in place, and he flinched in surprise when she suddenly snatched her hand away, fisted it, and breathed a curse.

 

”Damn! I am such a fool!”

 

`Sango…' He watched as her head drooped and the fisted hand dropped to her side listlessly. `What is going on with my woman? She is mumbling something to herself, but I can't catch the words.' She shook her head and began carefully removing the last bandages around her injured right arm. He mentally shook his head and used the soft noises of ripping tape to cover his stealthy movements as he moved back on to the path. Once there, he looked back toward the village for a moment, then took a deep breath. `Gods above, I hope she doesn't kill me.' He took several short, noisy steps and allowed the rings on his staff to jingle with his movement. He cleared his throat loudly and grinned to himself as he heard a muffled curse and a splash.

 

“Lovely Sango, may I approach? I have learned a healing ritual that I would like to use to help you recover from your wounds.”

 

Sango's voice sounded strained. “No! I'm not…umm. What healing ritual?”

 

“It is the application of special healing oil to your shoulder and back muscles.”

 

In the quiet stillness following his statement he thought `And your legs and that wonderful, curvaceous ass of yours.'

 

Silence.

 

“I found the oil in Kagome's time and it is my understanding that it is quite efficacious and beneficial.”

 

“You just want to peek.” Her voice sounded odd, as if she was struggling between being pleased and irritated.

 

`It's not an outright rejection. Lady Midoriko was right, she is looking for reassurance from me.' He grinned and used his most placating tone of voice. “I swear I am not here to peek at you.”

 

`I've already done that.' Again there was an interlude of silence.

 

He tried to control his elation when she didn't immediately send him away. “Trust me, Sango, my intentions are honorable.” `Trust me and don't kill me!' When she still remained quiet he added “Lady Midoriko and Lady Kaede know I am here and approve of the ritual.”

 

She was quiet for a long moment and then responded with “You told them and…they…they know you're here? They know you're here now? With me, alone, while I'm…”

 

He could not place the tone of her voice, but as her words came to an abrupt stop he decided to confirm her statements. `Technically, it's accurate to say yes. They know I'm here, but they probably wouldn't approve of my plans or the fact that I waited until she was nude.'

 

“Yes.”

 

She remained quiet for a long minute. When she spoke, it was in a tone of voice that he had never heard from her. “Well, I guess it's to be expected. And it's nothing you haven't seen already.”

 

Miroku frowned at the flat tone of her voice. “I take it I may come forward, then?”

 

She gave an odd sound before she replied “Yes.”

 

`Hhhmmm. What is going on here? I could have sworn that was a sob, but Sango doesn't cry—she gets angry.' He glanced back toward the village and took another deep breath. `She would be yelling if she was angry at me, but I don't have an explanation that makes any sense. Well—gods protect me!' Miroku strode forward and caught her finishing a quick swipe at her eyes as he came into view. `Why is she crying?' He studiously pretended not to see her tears as he calmly prepared a few sutras and began placing them in a semi-circle around the exposed area at the front of the spring.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked in a subdued voice as he walked along the arc of his barrier, chanting softly. She kept her back toward him, pivoting in place as he walked.

 

He finished at a convenient rock and laid his staff against it, setting the barrier. “I am taking the precaution of placing a barrier. We should not be defenseless.” He began to remove his robes, carefully folding his kesa and setting it down on a towel well away from the water.

 

“What are you doing?” she cried angrily as he began to remove his kosode. He glanced back at her.

 

`Ah, there's my fighter again.' She had half-turned toward him, crouching to hide her body under the water.

 

He suppressed his grin before turning around and removing his final garments, explaining calmly as he stripped to his fundoshi and the sleeve that covered his cursed hand “I need to touch you for the ritual to work, and since you're in the water…” he let his voice trail away as he began to fold the rest of his clothing into a neat pile. “It seems a bit unnecessary to get my robes wet as well.” As he glanced back again he noticed that her eyes were not on his face and couldn't help a small smile of male pride.

 

She fidgeted in place for a moment before her gaze moved up to meet with his. She blushed furiously as his smile deepened to a grin and suddenly she whipped around, presenting her back to him again. He picked up the bottle of oil from the rock and moved over to the spring, grabbing the bottle of shampoo which she had left out as he passed it. As he stepped into the water she flinched at the splashing sound and submerged herself up to her neck, hugging herself. He carefully placed the bottles within easy reach and walked toward her, lightly tapping her on the shoulder.

 

“Come, lovely Sango. Remember that I have discussed the ritual with Lady Kaede and I am here to help you.”

 

Her shoulders slumped. “What is it that you plan to do?” The flat tone was back in her voice.

 

“I thought that perhaps I could start by helping you wash your hair because your arm is not completely healed yet. Consider it misogi to purify you before we begin the healing ritual.”

 

She furtively glanced back at him and the bright moonlight revealed that she was still blushing. He lifted some of the warm water in his hands and began to dribble it over the back of her head and she froze in place. He repeated the action, this time stroking the top of her head as he poured the water over her. He turned her, stroking her cheek gently, and used his wet hands to push her bangs away from her face. Her eyes were tightly shut.

 

“Shall I get Kagome's shampoo?”

 

He took her silence for acquiescence and turned away to pick up the bottle, wading into the shallower water to reach it. As he glanced back at her he saw that she had opened her eyes and was staring at a point about half-way down his body, her lips parted. `Like what you see, Sango?' he grinned to himself and tensed the muscles in his buttocks. She gasped and looked up at his face.

 

“Oh!” She clamped her eyes shut and turned away from him again. “Get this…healing thing over with.”

 

He couldn't wipe the smug grin from his face as he moved toward her, squirting some shampoo into his left hand. He did manage to keep the amusement from his voice as he handed her the bottle. “Here, lovely Sango. Hold this.” She practically snatched the bottle from his grasp. `At least she hasn't struck me. So far so good.'

 

“Lady Kaede and Lady Midoriko know of this? You're sure?”

 

“Absolutely. I discussed this with both of them. They approve of my being here and what I'm doing. Now, take deep breaths to center your ki.”

 

“They know all about it? They know that you're here with me at the spring and that we're alone...and that...that…”

 

He gave a slight frown at the tension in her voice but dismissed it as a nervous reaction to her complete and his near-nudity. “I swear that they know where we are, why I'm here, and that they approve.”

 

“I…see.”

 

He frowned again at her tone of voice but shrugged it off. `She will feel differently in a few moments…I'm sure Sango will enjoy my attentions. After all, I reviewed all the pressure points with Kaede to make sure I hadn't forgotten any.' He rubbed his right hand's fingers in the shampoo and carefully placed dabs of it on her head with short, light caresses. After he had distributed it to his satisfaction, he used the remainder to massage her scalp with the tips of his fingers, rubbing light circles near her temples and stroking her hair back and down, away from her face. `This alone should have her relaxed and thinking of other pleasurable things. I can hardly wait to see her response to the application of the healing oil.'

 

As he stroked the back of her head and her upper neck she remained absolutely stationary, stiff under his ministrations.

 

`Damnit! What's wrong?' He moved down next to her and placed his arm under her shoulders, pressing her back into the water with his other hand. “Relax. Let me rinse your hair for you.”

 

Her eyes were tightly shut and, though she allowed him to press her back, she was absolutely rigid in his arms, her hands tightly wrapped around the shampoo bottle, hugging it to her chest and covering her breasts. `What is going on? Why is Sango not participating?'

 

He rinsed her hair gently, stroking it back from her face and watching her, puzzled and concerned. Setting her back on her feet, he plucked the shampoo from her unresisting hands and walked to the side of the pool, squirting some more in his hand before setting the bottle down. He looked back, hoping to see her peeking again, but she had remained where he had placed her, eyes closed and hands now wrapped around her elbows, head drooping. He squinted, unsure even with the bright moonlight whether the rivulets of water running down her face were the result of tears or due to her recent immersion.

 

He walked slowly back, cocking his head to one side and thinking hard. `It is unlike Sango to be passive at any time, but in this situation her behavior is unbelievable. She is not acting frightened, she is acting…defeated.'

 

”Sango?” He made sure to let her hear his concern in his voice.

 

“Yes?” The monosyllable was barely audible.

 

“What is wrong?” He stepped in front of her, hoping she would look up.

 

“Nothing.” He leaned down to look in her face. Her eyes were still closed, her body still, but her toneless voice made him cringe.

 

“May I wash your hair again?”

 

She turned her back and bent her head toward him but said nothing. He went through the same ministrations, trying to coax a response from her by lingering over the sensitive areas near her temples and neck, but she remained still and passive under his hands. As he bent her back in the water her face had taken on the strained look of someone in pain. `Damnit Sango! I'm not torturing you!'

 

He set her back on her feet and couldn't help letting a huff of irritation escape.

 

She flinched at the sound and it only made him angrier. `Why am I bothering? There are other women who would welcome my attentions.' Frustrated sexually and emotionally he began to walk back to the edge of the pool, but her next words froze him in place.

 

“Do you need to have sex now, or should I stay clean for the healing ritual?” Her voice was as passive as if she was speaking about what dish to have for their next meal, but as he looked back at her in astonishment the strain in her face belied the detachment of her words.

 

He lost his temper.

 

“Damnit Sango! What is the matter with you?” He strode over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a shake. “Look at me, damnit!” He shook her again as she turned her face away. “Stop hiding your pain! I can see it in you even though you're pretending you're calm.” He gave her another shake as she compressed her lips in a stubborn line and practically roared “Look at me, woman! You are hiding from me, and just as you wouldn't allow me to leave because of the Wind Tunnel, I won't let you shut me out because you can't decide what the hell you want!”

 

She finally opened her eyes and the raw pain in them took his breath away and his anger with it. He took her in his arms and held her, rocking her back and forward to comfort her and to ease the responsive ache in his own heart. “Gods, Sango! What is the matter? Tell me!”

 

She began to cry, her shoulders heaving in great, wracking sobs that brought answering tears to his eyes. `Gods, Sango.' Wordlessly, he cradled her against his chest, placing an arm under her knees and lifting her up against him. She curled into him, bowing her head and reflexively clutching her arms around her stomach. He carried her to the rock where he had placed his clothing, kicking the entire pile to the ground and sitting on it awkwardly, a bit unbalanced with her slight weight. He kept her body tucked into his lap as she continued to sob, but with one hand he pulled a towel from underneath them and began to wrap her in it.

 

“It duh…it doesn't…mmm…matter.” She shook her head and pushed against his hands as he tried to cover her. He could barely make out the words through her sobbing.

 

“What doesn't matter?”

 

“Y…you don't…no way to…cover…every…everyone…knows.”

 

He frowned, trying to make sense of her words. “I'm not covering you up, Sango. I'm trying to dry you and keep you warm.” He tried to put a little humor in the situation by joking “Besides, you know me better than that. Don't you think it would be more like me to keep you uncovered?”

 

She gave a keening wail and sobbed in earnest again.

 

`Buddha, give me guidance!' He held her tighter as she began to push away from him. “Sango, I don't understand! What is the matter?”

 

He rocked her gently as she gave up trying to get away from him, sobs wracking her body. He glanced around to see if some of his sutras were within reachable distance. `They did not react before, but this is not my Sango. What has possessed her?'

 

Minutes passed as he rocked her, murmuring soft soothing words, and finally her sobbing subsided. She shifted against him as if to move away, but he pulled her closer. “No. Don't run from me. Tell me what is troubling you, Sango.”

 

She did not answer, so he placed his finger under her chin and tried to tip her face up so that he could look in her eyes. She resisted, turning her face away from him, but he gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

 

“What is it, Sango?”

 

She averted her eyes. “It's…” she took a deep, shuddering breath. “It's nothing.”

 

“I have never seen you cry like this. Something is hurting you.” He let go of her chin, took a corner of the towel, and began to wipe her blotchy face. “Let me help, please.” When she remained silent, he said slowly “I see. You will not speak to me because it is something I have done and you cannot forgive me.” When she tried to turn her face away again he sighed with his own sense of defeat. `Oh gods, I knew she would hate me. It just took longer than I expected.'

 

He finished wiping her face and let his hand drop. “I warned you. I told you that you would hate me.” He couldn't keep the sorrow from his voice.

 

“No! I don't…you haven't…well, you did…” she abruptly stopped speaking and ran her hand through her wet hair, obviously flustered.

 

“What, Sango? What have I done wrong? How can I correct it if you won't tell me?”

 

She bit her lip and her shoulders sagged against him. “I am ashamed.”

 

“Why?” He forced his voice to remain gentle and calming. `Damnit. Why did I let myself touch her? Damnit!'

 

“I have lost…” she hesitated and swallowed, then bowed her head. “I am supposed to represent family in the jewel tomorrow, yet I…I have become…I am a stain on my family's honor. I am not worthy to join with the rest of you.”

 

“What? Sango…”

 

She interrupted him before he could speak further. “I thought…I thought it would be safe to have sex with you in Kagome's time, and somehow it wouldn't affect me here.” Her voice wasn't the flat monotone from before but the defeat in it made him wince. “I wanted to have something every woman…but…and now everyone knows…Inuyasha, Kagome, Shippo. I think Kohaku knows as well, though he hasn't expressed his disapproval, and now even Lady Kaede and Lady Midoriko realize that I am a dishonored woman. They encouraged you to come here to be alone with me. They knew we would be having sex and that we are not married.” She gave a keening sound that she abruptly cut off. “They approve because I am already dishonored and it doesn't matter.”

 

Miroku closed his eyes against the pain in her voice and bent his head, cradling her close. `I knew it was a mistake to make love with her, but I thought she would hate me, not herself.' He began to rock her as she gave another stifled sob. “Gods no, Sango. Lady Kaede told me to hurry here before you disrobed and warned me that you would beat me. Lady Midoriko chastised me for even thinking about having sex with you.”

 

“But you…you said they approved! How could they not know what has passed between us? That we had sex? How could they not think we would have sex now? Why would…”

 

He interrupted her sternly. “We did not have sex, Sango.”

 

She gave him an odd look, but he placed the fingers of his cursed hand over her lips and looked at her intensely. “Let me amend that. I did not `have sex' with you. I made love to you.” As she stared at him in consternation, he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her lips, a sad smile flitting over his face. “I love you, Sango. Why is it that I only seem to be able to tell you that when I think I'm losing you? I love you.” He bent down and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, then on her nose, each cheek, and finally a gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you.” He pulled her closer, cradling her against his chest, and couldn't stop the ache in his voice as he said “Please, don't think that making love with me was dishonorable.”

 

Sango closed her eyes and relaxed into his hold. `Somehow all that crying has left me feeling more at peace.' She tentatively reached up and stroked his cheek. “I'm sorry, Miroku. It's just…I…” she stopped and shook her head, unable to continue.

 

He leaned into her hand, then cocked his head and looked at her with the most serious expression she had ever seen on his face. “Marry me. Tonight.”

 

Her mouth dropped open. “What? Tonight? We can't!”

 

“Why not?” Miroku's face remained serious.

 

“Because…well…why do you want to get married tonight?”

 

“There are many reasons, lovely Sango. First, Lady Midoriko counseled me to relieve your fears, to show you acceptance, trust, and loyalty. You are my wife, in all ways but the acknowledgement in front of the community.” He gave her a ghost of a grin. “I would perform yume-katagi, but I think you already did that for me.”

 

Sango blushed and hung her head. “I did not mean to trap you, houshi.”

 

He smiled tenderly and gently lifted her chin so they could look in each other's eyes. “I know that, Sango. You did not trap me; I pursued you until you came to me willingly.” His face became serious again. “Unfortunately for both of us, our parents are dead and there is no one to grant permission, but we could notify the village leader and the Nakodo tonight.”

 

“Tonight?”

 

He shrugged. “What better way to show you my loyalty and trust than by binding us together in marriage before the Wind Tunnel is bound?” He brought up his cursed hand and stared at it for a moment. “In the past few days I have learned how much I was distancing myself from experiencing life. You, Kagome, and Inuyasha have each given me lessons.” He fisted his hand and shook it once before looking back at her, still extremely serious. “I have always denied what is between us by using the Wind Tunnel as my excuse. I have been afraid to risk, afraid to trust, afraid to hope. You asked me to allow you to fight the Wind Tunnel with me and, although I agreed to let you do it, I felt I was offering you an empty promise. I distanced myself from you because I did not want to leave you a widow.” He caressed her face with the fingers of the cursed hand, his face softening into a slight, sad smile. “You have had enough loss.” He shifted her in his lap, leaning back against the rock and bringing the towel up and around her bare shoulders. He lifted her chin again and looked into her eyes. “We share the same quest, Sango, and you are the one who gave me the idea of how to place a barrier around this curse. There is no reason to use the Wind Tunnel as an obstacle between us any more.” He gave her a soft kiss in the center of her forehead. “But the most important reason to acknowledge our marriage is that I love you, and I never wanted our lovemaking to hurt you. You made love to me…I hope you made love to me…and I know that it went against all of your family's training and code of honor. I know how important that is to you.” He shifted again, caressing her cheek and placing his forehead against hers. “Will you let me make you an honorable woman again?”

 

Sango reached up to touch his hand, pressing it against her face and blinking back tears. She reached out to his face, pushed him back, and stared into his eyes, searching first one and then the other for the truth behind his words. Though the moonlight was bright, his eyes were shadowed and she couldn't discern his feelings.

 

“You love me? You won't ask other wo…”

 

He slipped his thumb over her mouth to stop her and shook his head. “Don't bring up other women now, Sango. You have been the only woman for me for a very long time.”

 

He began to trace the outline of her lips with his thumb and in spite of the shadows on his face she could see his gaze intensify as he looked at her mouth. His breath came slightly faster and his brows came together in pained look.

 

`Gods, Sango, you're my woman, my wife. Won't you trust me? Let's go find the Nakodo and the village leader.”

 

Sango searched his shadowed face and suddenly she began to smile. “Tonight? Right now?” She began to giggle.

 

Miroku couldn't help but smile himself. “What's so funny?”

 

Sango laughed out loud. “Well, you're in your fundoshi, and I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion.”

 

Miroku gave her his trademark lopsided grin. “I think you're dressed perfectly,” he said huskily as his arms tightened around her. “Perhaps I should perform the yume-katagi in our time period.”

 

“Mir…” her response was cut off as he brushed his lips lightly across hers, returning to capture her lower lip gently in his teeth and touch it with the tip of his tongue. He moved to her upper lip, tracing the curve with his tongue before wetting his own lips and sliding them sensuously over hers. She gave a whimper as he deepened the kiss, but as he began to pull away in response to the sound she threaded the fingers of both hands through his hair and pulled his head down, kissing him back hard and pulling his hair free of its restraining cord.

 

He moaned into her mouth and she felt him rise against her thigh where she lay across his lap. Her body heated in response and she began to turn toward him, but he broke the kiss and placed his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

 

“We must stop, lovely Sango.”

 

“Why?” Her voice was husky.

 

He cleared his throat and took two deep breaths, and she felt his erection diminish beneath her thigh. “We must speak to the village leader.”

 

Sango could not think coherently as her body let her know that it had its own ideas where family honor was concerned. `I have dreamed so often that he would take me as his wife. I can't believe this is happening!'

 

Miroku sighed and carefully disentangled himself from underneath her. He avoided looking at her as he went to pick up her discarded yukata, and when he turned around he was surprised at the expression on her face; she was watching him with a look that was almost predatory.

 

He walked toward her, chanting a mantra in his head to maintain control. `Calm, peace. She is breathtaking, sitting in the moonlight with the towel nested around her hips. Calm, peace. Calm…if I don't cover her body soon I will regret it…calm.' He stared down at her where she sat proudly, looking back up at him with the moonlight highlighting her breasts, thighs, and the curve of her hip. “Damn, woman,” he breathed. She stood up slowly, gracefully, and he had to bite the inside of his lip hard to combat the desire to reach for her and pull her closer. Carefully, deliberately, exercising every scrap of self-discipline that he had, he helped her into the yukata. He took a deep breath and picked up his kosode to put it on, but as his arms were occupied with his clothing she suddenly placed her hands on his bare chest, running her fingers across the swell of his pectoral muscles and stroking his nipples with her thumbs. She gave an open-mouthed kiss to the center of his chest and pressed her body against his.

 

“Gods, Sango!” he moaned, trembling with the desire to throw her down on the pile of clothing and towels and take her immediately. “Stop! You are testing my restraint!”

 

“When have you ever restrained yourself, houshi? You have always felt at ease touching my body.” She smiled up at him and blinked her eyes slowly. “I am merely returning the favor.” She stroked his chest again, flattening her hands and moving them down to caress his taut stomach muscles.

 

He gritted his teeth and grabbed her hands, holding them away from his body with effort as she fought his grip. `Discipline. I have spent years disciplining my body and mind. I can and will concentrate only on getting her to the village.'

 

“I will make sure that you can return the favor later, lovely Sango, but right now we must make it publicly known that we are husband and wife.”

 

She dropped her hands and stared at him, a look of wonder on her face. “You mean it. You want to acknowledge me tonight.”

 

He roughly tied his kosode closed, stooped to pick up the bottle of oil, and handed it to her. “Here. Hold this and hold your yukata closed, lovely Sango.” As she complied, still staring at him in bemused wonder, he suddenly swept his hands behind her shoulders and under her knees, catching her up against his chest. As she gasped in response, he leaned down and kissed her thoroughly on the mouth, demanding a response with his lips and tongue. She relaxed into his hold, dropped the bottle on her stomach, and wrapped her arms around his neck, and after a few moments he pulled back and smiled tenderly at her.

 

“Yes, I mean it, but don't drop that bottle. I'm going to finish the healing ritual tonight.” Suddenly he looked distracted. “Can you grab my shakujou? I don't want to leave it behind, but…” he gave her a lascivious grin “I'm not letting go of you until I finish that ritual.”

 

With one hand, she tucked the bottle of oil in between their bodies and reached over to grab the staff, feeling a strange pull on her arm as the barrier fell when she touched it. She swung the shakujou around his body and held it against the back of his neck as he began striding toward the village.

 

“Uhh…Miroku?”

 

“Yes, lovely Sango?”

 

“Ummm…we're not really dressed to do this.”

 

“Ah, lovely Sango. That's the beauty of the yume-katagi. I'm abducting you and no one expects us to be dressed in finery.”

 

“But…”

 

“I promise that we will have a proper celebration and seek the gods' blessings later, but I am making sure that everyone in the village knows that you are my woman tonight.”

They had already reached Kaede's hut and he showed no signs of slowing. A few curious faces peered out of the village houses as they passed, and Sango pressed her blushing face into his neck as he began calling for the village leader. `Oh gods! He's serious and I'm happy! I must be out of my mind!' She could hear excited voices behind and around her, but didn't dare remove her face from his neck. `What will they think? His hair is a mess, my hair is still wet, we're both half-dressed, and he's always been so careful to be the respectable monk here.' Suddenly the humor of the situation hit her and she began to giggle. Miroku tightened his arms, and she felt him give a slight bow, still holding her.

 

“Hikaru-sama, in the absence of any parents to ask permission, I am informing you that Lady Sango and I have mutually agreed to become husband and wife, and that I have performed the yume-katagi tonight.”

 

`Oh gods!' Sango continued to giggle quietly into Miroku's shoulder. `I can't decide whether I'm excited and happy or just so embarrassed that I'll never show my face here again.'

 

“The Lady Sango was willing? She's not crying, is she? Her shoulders are shaking.” The village leader's kind, tenor voice sounded a bit worried.

 

“You think I…” Miroku bit off his words angrily before abruptly stopping and beginning again in a preternaturally calm voice “Sango, my love, perhaps you can answer?”

 

Sango unburied her blushing face long enough to glance at the village leader, noticing that the Nakodo was standing next to him, both of the older adults with identical inquisitive looks on their faces. She gave them a happy nod, not trusting her voice, and went back to burying her face in Miroku's neck.

 

“My apologies, houshi-sama. You will build a home for her?”

 

Miroku answered with smooth aplomb. “We live with Lady Kaede while we are here. We will not have a permanent home until our quest to complete the Shikon Jewel is finished.”

 

“Then I congratulate you both and I request that you allow us to have a festival in celebration of your marriage.”

 

The Nakodo spoke as Miroku took a breath to answer. “It's about time you saw the wisdom of starting a family, you two. I can see that you already have made a good start and will see to the food for the festival myself. Congratulations!”

 

Several people around them laughed in response to the older woman's gentle gibe, but Sango stopped giggling and she felt Miroku stiffen underneath her. `How could she use both our aspects in a comment like that? They don't know about the Living Jewel!'

 

Miroku recovered quickly by giving another short bow. “I thank you for your good wishes and the offer of a festival, Hikaru-sama, Mitsuko-sama. You do us great honor.”

 

“You and the others who travel with you are the protectors of our village. It is the least we can do for those who have kept us safe these past few years. The village prospers and grows because of your protection.”

 

As congratulatory shouts rose around them, Sango buried her nose farther into Miroku's neck, sure that the blush on her face would be permanent. He pulled her close, but as he turned to walk away she felt someone blocking his body. She peeked out from under his chin and saw the Nakodo reaching up to whisper something into his ear. She was too close to see the expression on Miroku's face but she felt him nod against the top of her head, and the three of them turned away from the villagers and began walking down a side street. Shouts of congratulations followed them down the lane, but she heard most of the villagers dispersing quickly back into their own homes, talking excitedly. She felt Miroku bow again.

 

“Thank you, Mitsuko-sama. I am grateful for the hospitality, and I am sure that Lady Sango is grateful as well,” his voice took on a gently teasing note as he finished “but she is currently rendered speechless.”

 

Sango pulled her face from his neck and peered out. They were standing in front of an older hut, one that had been destroyed in a demon attack several years ago but which had been recently repaired by the villagers.

 

“You and your comrades have made it possible for the village to prosper. It is only fitting that you receive some of the benefits of the peace that you have given us.” The Nakodo gestured to the hut. “It is small, but clean and furnished. Please honor an old woman and allow me to give you a place to sleep for the night.” She bowed to them and backed away, leaving them alone in the moonlight.

 

“Thank you, Mitsuko-sama. You honor us.” Miroku waited a few moments, then heaved a sigh and began to chuckle. “Well, my lovely wife. I have never known you to be at such a loss for words.”

 

“Wife? I still don't believe it,” she whispered, still unable to trust her voice.

 

He quirked an eyebrow at her and kicked the bamboo curtain open with his foot. “Everyone in the village knows you're my wife now.” He ducked through the doorway. “Why can't you believe it?”

 

The furnishings were spare, but a single window framing the full moon gave enough light to see a futon rolled up in the corner. He quickly walked over to it, kicked it open and finally allowed her to stand on her feet. The bottle of oil began to fall, but he grabbed it with one hand even as he held her close with the other arm.

 

“You really love me? You want me for your wife?”

 

“You are my wife.” He tried to take his shakujou from her hand, but he had the oil in one hand and Sango in the other. `Oh, to hell with the oil. To hell with everything but Sango.' He dropped the bottle, placed his hands on both sides of her face, and pulled her into a gentle kiss. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, coaxing her mouth open with his lips and tongue, trying to convey his love for her with gentle persistence.

 

Suddenly she dropped his staff to the side and kicked his feet out from under him, flipping him onto the futon and falling after him, straddling him and pinning him to the bed.

 

“Oof! Ah, there's my fighting woman. Are you planning on striking your husband for his wandering hands?” He held her loosely at the hips, the fingers of both hands stroking her in places that were usually forbidden.

 

Sango smiled her sweetest smile back at him. “No.” She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest and purposefully pressing against the rising bulge that she could feel beneath her. “I plan to find out why you were so persistent about the healing ritual. I'm sure you had other motives besides healing my arm.” She began pulling at the already loose material of his kosode, baring his chest to her stroking hands.

 

“I had your best interests at heart. Do you still not trust me?” His voice was teasing, but she heard an odd undercurrent in his tone.

 

Her hands stilled and her smile softened into true tenderness. “I do trust you. I trust you and I love you, Miroku my husband.”

 

His hands left her hips and pulled her down into a gentle kiss. He cradled her head in his hands, coaxing a response from her with whisper-soft caresses of his lips as his thumbs stroked her cheeks. As she leaned into his embrace, he suddenly flipped her over onto her back with the ease and control of a trained fighter, his kiss becoming demanding as he made short work of opening her yukata so that he could stroke the skin underneath. Holding her captive to his kiss with one hand behind her head, he used his rosary to his advantage as he moved his cursed hand up to stroke her breast, alternating the warm, rough pads of his fingers with the cool, smooth surfaces of the beads, teasing her unmercifully with tongue, lips, and hand. As she arched her back and tried to press closer, he trapped her in place by twining his leg around hers, pressing his thigh against her sex. She gave a soft moan into his mouth and fisted one hand in his kosode, lifting her hips up against the welcome pressure of his thigh, but he pulled away from the kiss and looked down at her face.

 

“I love to watch you when I do this,” he whispered huskily, moving his hand lower to take the place of his thigh. He set her head gently down on the futon and brought his fist up to support his chin, watching her face as he stroked her with his fingers. Her eyes fluttered closed as he moved his hand lower, entering her with two long fingers and rolling the beads over her sensitized, aroused bundle of nerves, smiling as she whimpered, turned her head sharply to the side, and pulled hard on his kosode in response. He pulled his fingers out and teased her, running the two fingers lightly up and down just on the inside of her moist, warm lips, watching her body's response as he built her pleasure slowly. Her free hand grasped at the futon beneath them and she began to make little begging cries as he circled the sensitive spot each time he reached the top of her lips. He circled it slowly several times and flicked his fingers across it once, smiling in satisfaction as she strained against his hand when he abandoned it and stroked downwards again. At her moan of frustration, he circled up and flicked across it again, bringing her closer to release by the smallest of increments.

 

He leaned down to suckle her breast, combining the upward flick of his fingers with a matching flick of his tongue, but kept the pace slow and random, never allowing her to reach a peak. When she began to arch her hips upwards, muscles straining and whimpering with each hitched breath, he entered her with his fingers again, pressing in at a slow pace that wrung a moan from her, but then pulled his fingers away, moving his hand up onto her stomach as she gave a complaining groan.

 

“Please!”

 

He moved up to kiss her and brought his fingers to her other breast, using the moisture covering them to tease her nipple erect, then leaned over to take it in his mouth, tasting her essence and suckling gently as he moved his hand to stroke the side of her breast. He pulled back and ran his thumb up and around the nipple, continuing to stroke the sensitive skin on the side as he placed open-mouthed kisses up to her neck and back down, moving to the other nipple and taking it gently between his teeth to flick at the tip with his tongue. As she moaned in frustration he suckled hard and moved his cursed hand back where she needed it, rubbing the tips of his fingers firmly over her nub before entering her hard. He pumped once and as he began to pump again he felt her body tense, hips rising to meet him, so he stopped suckling and held his hand still.

 

She writhed against his hand and he couldn't help grinning as he held her just out of reach of completion.

 

He flicked his tongue against her nipple and she hissed in a breath. He could feel her muscles clenching around his fingers, so he rotated his hand and made a slow beckoning motion with his fingertips as he pulled them out. She gasped in response, her back arching, and finally her free hand came up from the futon to pull ineffectually at his fingers.

 

“Mirokuuuu…please!”

 

Miroku couldn't keep the smug grin off his face as he rolled his beads over the flat plane of her stomach up to her breast. “Please what?” As he caressed her nipple and pressed his thigh against her heat, purposefully tantalizing her, he said huskily “I love it when you beg for my touch, woman, especially when a few days ago you would have beaten me senseless.” He brushed his lips against hers and said “Beg me again.”

 

Her eyes snapped open and she gave a growl of frustration. He had a second of warning before she flipped him onto his back and swung her leg around and over him so that she was sitting on his chest, her back to his face. She reached down, flung his kosode open, and began to untwist the ends of his fundoshi.

 

Miroku grinned and brushed the material of her yukata off of his face. He reached underneath it, grabbing her thighs and running his thumbs along the smooth contours of her hips. “Sango, there are easier ways to…nnnnggh.” As he began to speak she pressed her thighs together to hold him still and reached down to grasp the base of the bulge in his fundoshi, squeezing it lightly before releasing him to stroke her fingernails up along the material covering him.

 

“Be quiet, my husband. You need to learn patience.” She continued stroking him and loosening the fundoshi, never pausing as she glanced over her shoulder with a predatory smile. “Was that not what you were just trying to teach me?”

 

“No, I….mmmmmph.” She grasped him again with thighs and hand, this time lightly massaging the area between his thighs with her fingertips after she released him. She switched hands as one of the ties came free, loosening the other tie and running her fingertips through his coiled hair as his erection sprang free of the material. She leaned forward and ran her palms over the insides of his thighs, up across his groin, and across the flat muscles at base of his stomach; touching him everywhere but the place she knew he wanted her touch the most.

 

“You know, my husband, that you have been forcing me to learn patience for years.” Her tone was conversational and calm, but after the last word of her sentence she grasped his shaft and stroked with one hand, tracing light patterns on his sac with the fingers of the other. As he groaned in appreciation, his hands tensing on her thighs, she stopped and began stroking his clenched stomach muscles. “Every time you touched me, you left me thinking improper thoughts.” She drew one finger up the soft side of his shaft and circled it around the tip. “You made my body respond, and then forced me to wait.” She made a circle with her finger and thumb and slowly stroked them down his shaft, then held him at the base and stroked the free fingers against his sac. “Now you are testing my patience again, but I feel you are the one who needs the lesson.”

 

His hands were motionless, grasping her thighs, his body taut beneath her, and she smiled to herself in triumph as she slowly stroked around the base of his shaft, making a circle of her hands and tantalizing him with light, random strokes.

 

“Sango…nnngh…” his voice choked off as she moved her hands together in response to his voice, using one to stroke his sac and the other to circle him and pull upwards. She stroked him twice before pulling her hands away, resuming her slow caresses in the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and stomach, her fingers tantalizingly close to his shaft. His hands left her hips and he tried to move underneath her, but she gripped him hard with her thighs and pressed her hands against his legs to hold him down.

 

“Don't move. You must be patient, my husband.”

 

“Gods! I am disciplined, but not that di….nnnnngh!” This time her motions were fast and repetitive, causing him to arch underneath her. She stroked him until he began to gasp helplessly, but as his body tightened beneath her thighs she pulled her touch away completely.

 

“Gods, Sango!”

 

She was breathing fast herself, her prior arousal and his response to her touch heating her blood. “Has your patience been tested enough, my husband? Perhaps you should beg me to touch you,” she said with a purr of sensuality in her voice.

 

She waited, and though she felt his pectoral and stomach muscles move underneath her, he said nothing. She frowned a bit as she thought she might have offended him, and was about to turn around to see the expression on his face when his hands returned to her thighs, massaging the taut muscles she was using to grip him. She gasped at the sensation of oiled hands gliding over her skin, leaving a gleaming sheen of moisture in their path. He pressed his fingers in and began to massage the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, moving his hands upwards toward her sex with each circular stroke.

 

“I told you I planned to finish the ritual tonight” he purred back to her, his voice an octave below its usual range. “The healing oil was just within my reach.”

 

She gasped and arched her back as he stroked her with both hands, rolling her sensitized inner lips between his index fingers as his other fingers slid across her open inner thighs. She tensed her muscles but did not stop his slow caresses. She moved her hands up and slid them along the path of oil on her thighs, then reached for him, her oiled hands gliding up and down his shaft in a slow, sensuous rhythm.

 

His hands stilled and he began to arch up into her.

 

“Gods, Sango, stop! Stop! It's too much! I won't be able to…” he stopped speaking and breathed in quick pants as she gripped him and stopped moving.

 

“Say please.” She flicked her thumb back and forth across the tip once.

 

“Nnnnngghh.” Suddenly he began to laugh softly. “Oh gods, woman. You will be the death of me.” His voice turned gentle. “Please. Please turn around and let me kiss you and see your face. I'm sorry I tested your patience.”

 

Sango smiled and lifted his cursed hand from her hip, intertwining the fingers of her left hand with it as she turned around. “Don't be too sorry,” she whispered as she began to slide her body next to his. She blushed in the moonlight as she admitted “I liked it.”

 

He gave an amused chuckle but pulled her immediately into a deep kiss, holding her up against his body and preventing her from sliding next to him. He continued kissing her as he pulled her leg back over his torso, guiding her into position just over his erection and flexing his hard length against her. They each gave a moan at the sensation, but instead of entering her he pushed her to a sitting position, sat up himself, and pulled her yukata off her shoulders, breathing hard. As she finished taking it off, he shrugged out of his kosode and grabbed the bottle of oil, squirting a thin line across her chest just above her breasts. He placed the bottle down, grabbed her hands and placed them on his shoulders, and gave her a slow, lecherous grin.

 

“I've wanted to do this all night.”

 

Gently, deftly, watching her face the entire time, he began to massage the oil into her breasts, circling his fingers around from the center of her chest to the sides, finishing the motion by stroking his thumbs across her nipples to join the rest of his fingers and bringing the backs of them up and across the nipples again. As her eyes closed and she arched toward him in response he repeated the motion, leaning forward to kiss her throat. She moaned and pulled herself closer, her sex touching his between her open thighs.

 

“Miroku!”

 

He reached down with both hands and helped her lift herself onto his shaft, drawing a hissing breath in through his teeth as she sank down on him. Her breasts rubbed against his chest for a moment, but he lay back so that he could get leverage with his legs, thrusting up into her as she moved against him.

 

She fell partially forward, gasping and holding her weight above him as she readjusted her legs to a kneeling position. He reached for her breasts, gliding his thumbs up from underneath and across the oiled skin before moving his hands down her sides and to her hips, holding her in place while he thrust up into her again. She gave a little moan and sank down onto him, rocking her hips to adjust to his length.

 

He held her there for a moment before lifting her, letting his hands roam across her thighs and up to her breasts as she established her own rhythm. He stroked her sensitive nipples, watching her as she arched her back, eyes closed in pleasure as she moved up and down on his shaft.

 

`My woman.'

 

He knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he reached down with one hand and stroked her bud with his thumb as she rose up, matching those strokes with flicks of his other thumb across her peaked nipple. She screamed his name as she curled forward, and he grabbed her with both hands and thrust up into her as he felt her muscles ripple around him with the beginning of her orgasm. The pulsing sensations were more than he could take, and he groaned as he made several hard, deep thrusts as his own release took the control of his body from him.

 

Panting heavily and still shuddering with pulsing remnants of her release, Sango felt the liquid heat of his orgasm and tightened her inner muscles around him, giving herself an echo of her pleasure and wrenching a hissing groan from his lips that sounded like her name. As he began to relax she smiled and curled up on his chest, listening to his thundering heart beat slow as her own body relaxed.

 

His hands flopped weakly by her legs and she lifted her head to peer up into his face, wondering if he'd fallen asleep again. He opened one eye and gave her a lopsided grin. As she began to move off of him, he quickly grabbed her hips and held her in place.

 

“Where do you think you're going, woman?”

 

“I thought you might be tired and I wanted to let you rest.”

 

“It's our wedding night and I've abducted you, plus I haven't finished the healing ritual yet. I don't think we're going to get much sleep, woman.”

 

She cocked her head at him. “Why do you keep calling me woman?” She meant it as a teasing comment, but he opened both eyes and his hands came up to cup her cheeks, stroking her tenderly.

 

“You're my wife. You're the only woman I've ever loved.” He held her against his chest and turned them to their sides so that he could kiss her. It was gentle and tender, a kiss of acceptance and trust. When he pulled back his eyes were lit by the moonlight, and she could see the love shining in them. “You're my woman.”

 

 

**********

Translations:

Ex luna, scientia: Secundus: Latin; From the moon, knowledge (motto of Apollo 13), second.

 

Japanese:

Yume-katagi: Marriage by abduction. This was a form of legal marriage in pre-modern Japan (see mcs(dot)sagepub(dot)com/cgi/reprint/21/2/195(dot)pdf)

Kosode: kimono-style undergarment

Kesa: the official garment signifying ordination and dharma transmission from a master to a disciple. It is Miroku's outer garment, worn like a toga over one shoulder, wrapped around the body and tied at the upper two corners. These ties are brought together and knotted.

Misogi: a Shinto practice of purification in water, usually in a waterfall or other naturally running water.

Nakodo: a matchmaker; “go-between”

Hikaru: “Light” or “shining”

Mitsuko: “Child of light”

 

The pressure points that Miroku was planning to concentrate on are actual acupuncture points. The top of the foot between the first and second toes is the Liver Meridian (Taichong), used to balance emotional energy, regulate menstruation, reduce tension and pain in the chest, alleviate headaches, and to reduce high blood pressure. The second point was meant as a joke; the outer side of the wrist is the Heart Meridian (Shenmen) and is used in the treatment of a variety of mental disorders, such as absent mindedness, insomnia, disturbing dreams, hysteria, depression, agitation, and mental illness. I think Miroku is worried about Sango's emotional state.

 

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