InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fragments ❯ The Perpetuity of Mourning ( Chapter 11 )

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

Title: The Perpetuity of Mourning
Author: LuxKen27
Universe: Alternate
Genre: Drama
Rating: T
Warning: Innuendo
Word Length: 2258
Summary: “We are given one life, and the decision is ours, whether to wait for circumstances to make up our minds, or whether to act – and, in acting, live.” – Omar N. Bradley

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

“Sango, I really think you’re making a mistake.”

Sango stifled a sigh, while at the same time resisting the urge to roll her eyes. This was not the first time she’d heard those eight words – nor, she suspected, would it be the last. It was a small price to pay, however, for the freedom this decision would ultimately grant her.

She held the phone a little tighter in her hand as she glanced around the exquisitely appointed room. Yes, she decided, she could live a lifetime with her mother’s sorrowful nagging if it meant escaping this place.

“I’ve made up my mind, Mama,” she replied, with as much gentleness and patience as she could muster. “This is the right thing to do.”

“Do you truly understand what you’re giving up?” her mother asked. Her voice was thin and reedy on the line, a confluence of worry, pain, and loneliness. The tone made Sango’s heart skip a beat. Her mother had aged twenty years with the news of Kohaku’s death; she barely recognized her when she had accompanied her brother’s body home to Osaka four weeks before. It was obvious losing her youngest child in such a violent manner had forever scarred her – and had sent her over the edge of parental protectiveness when it came to her eldest.

“Karanousuke has given you the world,” her mother continued quietly. “He would do anything for you.”

Except leave me alone, Sango thought wryly.

“You would have a very comfortable life there,” her mother persisted. “You would never want for anything.” She paused, sniffling. “We only want what’s best for you, dear…”

I know, I know, Sango thought, clamping down on the rising tide of irritation. As much as she hated to hear her mother cry, what she hated more was the knowledge of where this was coming from. Her erstwhile ex-fiancé, having made all of the arrangements for her brother’s transportation and funeral, had tagged along on the journey, attending what were supposed to be private, family-only ceremonies. It was hard to begrudge his attendance, considering he had paid for the lavish arrangements; however, his lingering presence only strengthened her resolve to end their personal relationship.

It had quite the opposite effect on the rest of her family, perhaps only naturally. Her parents, no matter how resigned to the idea they would never see their son alive again, were nonetheless devastated by the discovery of Kohaku’s body. Karanousuke had swept in at just the right moment, his diligence and careful attention to detail easing their transition into full mourning via their rituals of death. He kept his distance during the wake, the funeral, the cremation, and ultimately, the burial, sticking close to the shadows with other relatives. In the periods between, however, he made his intentions to find Kohaku’s killer known to all who would listen, vowing passionately and forthrightly to devote the entirety of his attention and skill to the matter.

He had pleaded his case to stay by her side with her family…and it had worked. Nothing Sango said or did could wipe away their befuddlement with her decision to break the engagement and leave her life in the lap of luxury in the capital city.

Even now, a month past the burial, her parents struggled to understand.

Sango was not deterred, however. She had returned to Tokyo, to the Prince Park Tower Hotel, to her decadent suite of rooms, to pack up what remained of her life. She had been in the midst of sorting through her personal belongings when her mother had called this time; although grateful for the break, she was not ready to have this same conversation again for the eighth or ninth time.

“What’s best for me right now,” Sango finally said, “is to be with you. You’re my family.” I might have failed in my quest to find Kohaku, but I won’t fail in this, she vowed silently. We can be a family again – we need to be a family again.

Her mother sniffled again. “Here, talk to your father, dear,” she said abruptly, handing the phone away.

Sango’s heart wrenched as she slid into a sitting position on one of the beds. As weepy and overprotective as her mother had become in the wake of Kohaku’s disappearance, her father was similarly gruff and to the point. Though he had always been a quiet man, he could never be mistaken for stupid. When he spoke, everyone sat up and took notice. He, too, had his reservations about her decision to leave Karanousuke and return home, but he had, for the most part, kept them to himself.

“Sango,” he said, without preamble, “don’t upset your mother like this.”

“I’m not trying to, Papa,” she replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head was beginning to ache.

There was a pause; when next he spoke, his tone was softer. “I know, kitten,” he sighed. “It takes very little to upset her these days…”

Sango bit her lip. She hated the distance that had grown between her parents over the last five years, as they each dealt with the disappearance of their son in different ways. Not even in mourning could they find their way back to each other again. Instead of a family grieving the loss of a son, it was as if they were three strangers, bound together by common tragedy. It was why she wanted to go home, why she wanted to be around them even when they nagged her so – because she could be the strong one. She could bring them back together. Her presence could heal the rift her brother’s absence had made, and they could be a family again.

“Just make sure this isn’t a decision you’ve made in haste,” her father advised her. “You can always change your mind, you know.”

“I know,” Sango replied. But I won’t.

“You have your whole life ahead of you,” he reminded her. “Don’t throw that away out of some sense of misplaced obligation.”

You and Mama are not beyond help, she thought, though she wisely held her tongue. “I’m not,” she insisted. “My family means everything to me.”

“Even more than your own personal happiness?”

The question caught her off guard. Of all the people in the world to say such a thing, her father was the last one she ever expected to hear it from. If he had known happiness in his life, he had been excellent at hiding it.

“There’s nothing for you here,” he continued, minding the gap her silence had caused.

Sango frowned. “Osaka is not exactly a wasteland – ” she argued, unable to hold back her shock and irritation at the bald, blunt statement.

“– but it’s not Tokyo, either,” her father cut in. “Stay there, and make your life…with or without your young man.”

Sango swallowed hard as she heard the click of the phone hanging up at the other end. Her father’s final comments had completely floored her; any other time she’d had this very same “leave-or-come-back” conversation with her parents, they had backed away from making any sort of solid pronouncement, one way or the other. On the one hand, she was frustrated by the idea that they thought she was better off staying with Karanousuke. On the other hand…her father knew her very well; in telling her not to come back, he had sensed the reasons why she wanted to return in the first place.

Was it too much to ask, that her family band together in this time of mourning?

Or was it simply too late?

The abrupt slam of a door brought Sango back to the present. Warily, she glanced over her shoulder towards the door of the bedroom, unsure of who had breached the entrance to her suite without her permission. She’d only been back for a few days, arriving unannounced – and unaccompanied by Karanousuke.

If it was him, so help him God –

Sango’s wrath settled as her best friend sauntered into the room instead, her eyes wide with surprise as she took in its chaotic state. “Whoa,” Akiko breathed, her jaw hanging open.

“How did you get in?” Sango asked, tossing her phone to the bedside table. She rose and greeted her friend with a hug.

Akiko grinned as they pulled apart. “I have my ways,” she replied, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She glanced about again, her brow furrowing slightly. “What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving,” Sango replied simply. “I’m going home – for good.”

“Whoa,” Akiko intoned again, allowing her purse to slide down her arm and land in a heap on the floor. “I can understand your desire to leave this place” – she indicated their surroundings with the sweep of her arm – “but the whole city? Really?”

Why is this such a hard concept for everyone to grasp? Sango asked herself. “Believe me, I can’t put enough space between Karanousuke and me,” she muttered in response, folding her arms over her chest.

“True,” Akiko conceded, “but he’s not the only reason you’re here.” She gave her friend a pointed look.

“Oh, Akiko, I’m going to miss you,” Sango cried, throwing her arms around her friend and hugging her tightly. “You’re the best friend I could’ve ever asked for. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you – I’ve never had anyone like you.”

Akiko returned her embrace with equal fervor. “You’ve never had anyone like Miroku, either,” she replied shrewdly.

Miroku…

The name alone was enough to conjure warm memories – of violet eyes, of quiet words, of sensuous caresses, fiery kisses, and passionate sex. A hot flush rose up the back of her neck as the memory of him momentarily enveloped her, pushing aside everything else. If ever a man had given her everything she wanted and needed, it was him.

“Don’t kid yourself,” Sango sighed, shaking herself from her reverie. “I never really had him.”

“And if you believe that,” Akiko proclaimed, planting on hand on her hip, “you’re delusional.”

Sango turned away, her eyes falling to the floor near the bed. It was all too easy to recall that night, the emotional rollercoaster she’d unwillingly ridden – and dragged him on. She’d been so hurt, so angry, so numb – it was by pure instinct that she sought him out, knowing he could comfort her without words, without judgment. He did all of that and more – in his comfort, she found strength; in his solace, she found desire. All too easily could she see them now, in her mind’s eye, cloaked in the dying darkness of the night, pushing the boundaries of their fragile relationship. He’d made her feel so good, so light, so beautiful, so strong –

“I didn’t deserve him,” she choked out, pushing past the lump suddenly lodged in her throat.

“This isn’t a matter of ‘deserving,’” Akiko said, her voice soft but firm. “This is a matter of needing. Of wanting. Of yearning.”

Each emphasized word roused a new, explicit, seductive memory to the surface, pulling at something akin to longing deep in her core. For weeks, she’d fought these memories of Miroku, forcing herself to concentrate on her family, on her brother, on staying away from Takeda – anything to keep from reliving the horrible way she’d dismissed her lover mere hours after inviting him into her world.

“How can I want him when I don’t know anything about him?” Sango protested, just as much to herself as to her friend.

“You know the most important thing…” Akiko responded, allowing her words to trail off suggestively.

Sango flushed hotly, whirling around. “There’s more to a relationship than just sex, you know!” she snapped, unsure of whether her terse tone arose from irritation or embarrassment – or both.

Akiko merely gazed back her, unimpressed with this flurry of emotion. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Sango flushed again under her friend’s thoughtful study. No one in the world knew her better than this girl who stood before her. For the last three years, they had grown closer than sisters, sharing secrets, celebrations, frustrations, and everything in between. She couldn’t hide much from her friend, not when she pushed others away with her sharp tongue, not when she erected her defensive walls, not even when she allowed her emotions to shut down completely and turned inward.

“You know the way he makes you feel,” Akiko finally said. “You know the way he treats you. You know that you believe, deep in your soul, that he’s the one – because you know how hard it would’ve been to leave Karanousuke and all he could offer you otherwise.” She grasped Sango’s shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. “Isn’t that worth fighting for? Isn’t that worth staying for?”

Sango bit her lip, pushing back the tears that threatened to well up behind her eyes. “Even if it was – how could he ever take me back, after the way I rejected him?”

Akiko’s eyes narrowed. “Does that mean you realize it was a mistake?” she pressed.

Sango shrugged. “It means he deserved more than that – he deserved better.” She closed her eyes, his final words reverberating through her head: One day, you’re going to realize you deserve to be happy, Sango. “He still does.”

“Sango…”

Her heart clenched in her chest. I had my chance, and I blew it. She shook her head violently as she turned her eyes upon her friend once more. “I’ve had enough pain to last me a lifetime already,” she said. “I don’t think I could deal with any more.”