InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fragments ❯ Tea and Sympathy ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Title: Tea and Sympathy
Universe: Alternate
Genre: Angst/Drama
Rating: T
Word Length: 1434
Summary: “It is a great piece of skill to know how to guide your luck even while waiting for it.” – Baltasar Gracian

Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.

“Will that be all for you, mademoiselle?” The bell hop looked skeptical and concerned as he gazed at her, hovering over the porcelain tray with a matching domed lid.

“Yes,” Sango said, her voice soft but firm. Her lips stretched into some semblance of a patient smile as she reached for the lone teacup, squeezing a few drops from the perfectly carved lemon wedge at its side into the steaming black tea. “Thank you.”

The bell hop bowed, his coat billowing with a slight flourish as he turned and left the room. When the door closed, Sango’s façade fell, her eyes downcast on the tray as her thoughts began to wander.

Some people called it serendipity; others, just dumb luck. All she knew for sure was, it had only taken a split second for her life to take that irrevocable turn, for events to fall into place to lead her where she was today.

The blink of an eye…the beat of a heart…the space of a breath…

…the shattered fragments of a life, never to be made whole again.

The tea was hot as it splashed down the back of her throat, an ironic yet perfect complement to the miserable weather outside. Light but persistent rain pattered against the windowpane, falling from an overcast sky – not dark enough to presume night, but cloudy enough to block out the light. She gazed out the window, sensing the imbalance of the weather…only to find it mirrored the limbo she felt within herself.

It had been rainy that day as well, a cold and miserable winter’s day, like so many others. She and her brother had just arrived home from school. She remembered being annoyed that afternoon, for some reason – Kirara’s indecision about wanting to be in or out, Kohaku whining to be allowed to play outside, in spite of the bad weather, her own schoolwork weighing heavily on her mind…

Whatever the reason, it hadn’t stuck with her through these last five years, but it had been enough to distract her on that day. Finally, she caved into her brother’s pleas, dressing him in his warmest coat and hat, insisting he wear his rain boots, even when he protested, making him swear to stay as close to their front door as was possible. She watched from the comfort of the foyer as he shrieked happily, splashing in the puddles of their walkway, and chasing the curious cat. Her parents wouldn’t be happy, especially if he developed a cold, but she’d always had a soft spot for him, and found it hard to refuse his requests. He was such a gentle, shy child…able to find pleasure in the smallest things…

A solitary tear slipped down her cheek as her memories ebbed on –

– the phone ringing –

– leaving to answer it –

– her back turned for only a moment –

– finding the courtyard empty when she returned –

– only Kirara, mewing anxiously.

She’d burst through the door, calling out for her brother, ignoring the rain as it pasted her hair to her face. He was nowhere in sight; it was as if he’d vanished into thin air. She went all the way around their apartment complex, growing more and more frantic when she found herself on the street…with still no sign of him.

Her parents had found her later that evening, a kilometer from their building, shivering violently from the rain, her voice strained and hoarse from the incessant calling. They had been remarkably calm about the entire ordeal; only later did she realize that was merely windfall of relief that had befallen them when they found her alive and well. As the days and weeks stretched on, with no word on Kohaku’s whereabouts, the strain began to show. Her once vibrant parents became shadows of themselves, broken pieces of a family that drifted further and further away from each other.

They each blamed themselves for his disappearance, but she knew – deep down inside – it had been her responsibility.

She had been the one in charge.

She had turned her back, letting him out of her sight.

She was to blame for destroying their family.

Her parents never said as much, but they didn’t have to.

From that moment on, Sango made it her mission to recover her brother, because she knew it was the only way she could ever save her family.

As soon as she graduated from high school, she followed the only viable lead in her brother’s case – the rumors of a child abduction ring, operating out of Tokyo – straight to the capital city. Her pleas for help had caught the ear of the police commissioner, a kindly man with nerves of steel by the name of Takeda. Impressed with her strength, resolve, and passionate belief that her brother was still alive, he assigned an entire squad to the case, taking over the entire investigation from the Osaka detectives.

And, as taken as Mr. Takeda was by her case, his son was with her.

Kuranousuke had been an absolute dream, lending a sympathetic ear – or shoulder – when she’d needed it most. She was new in town, enrolled at the sprawling central campus of the university, and she didn’t know a soul, save for him and his family. He became just what she needed: a quiet, understanding confidant; an anchor in her whirlwind sea; a loyal, devoted lover.

It was amazing, really – could one moment of bad luck truly change a person’s life, for the better?

As the years rolled on, the case grew even colder; any possible leads shriveled away, one by one. Mr. Takeda stubbornly kept the case open, though the active staff dwindled down to two detectives. Sango had never given up hope that her brother could be found alive, and she refused to hear reasoning to the contrary. Stats be damned: her gut told her that he was still out there…waiting…

…wanting her to save him, protect him, just like she always had.

Kuranousuke was gentle by nature, but even his patience had its limits. He wanted to marry her and start a family, to move on with their lives. She’d been overjoyed by his proposal, but as the big day drew nearer and nearer, she found she couldn’t take it. There was no use pretending she was fine, and happy, and well-adjusted, and normal – or whatever it was that future multimillionaire’s wives were. She wasn’t as strong as everyone thought she was, or as together, or ‘with it’. She didn’t know how to move past that moment in her life, when she had turned away and failed in her duty…

…and she didn’t appreciate anyone telling her she should, just because.

Because she had her own life to lead.

Because it was up to her, now, to carry on the family line.

Because relentlessly, time marched on.

…because that’s just what people did, when confronted with the actuality of missing relatives long gone.

And so, pushed to the brink, she did the only thing she knew how to – she left, walking away, determined to solve her problems at her own pace, in her own time.

It was just another stroke of luck that she’d ended up in that bar, with that man, on that night. Maybe the universe realized he was just what she’d needed in that moment, but that still didn’t explain why she couldn’t get him out of her mind. There was something about him that called to her – some glint in his eye, some quirk of his mouth, some hitch in his voice.

He’d known tragedy.

And he covered it well.

She was drawn to him, and she shouldn’t be; she was promised to another, and couldn’t move beyond the mistakes of her past. And yet…

…and yet…

…she couldn’t stay away. Every night, she left the hotel – Karanouske’s family-owned property – and went down to that little dive, sitting at the end of the bar, trading fleeting glances and small talk with the mysterious Miroku. He asked after her case, and her family, and her background, but she never reciprocated; somehow, it was safer, not knowing the gory details of his past. She’d grown comfortable enough to go alone, without Akiko’s flirty interventions, and, soon enough, found herself relying on those evenings, spent in quiet company.

She made no secret of these little excursions, but Kuranousuke was growing suspicious. She lived in his hotel, but not with him. He still loved her, ardently, and wanted to work things out with her.

She’d told him to give her time, to think.

She could only wonder how much longer her luck would hold out…