InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ My Life, My Love ❯ Revealing ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: A'ight! Let's do dis thang! This chapter's in Sango's POV, by the way. By the way, I might start writing in third person POV. I'm not sure yet. Let me know what you guys think.

Chapter 9: Revealing

Wife. Sexual Psychology. Wife. Pervert. Kill. The last thought seemed the most clear to me at the moment. What the hell did he mean by wife! Last I checked I wasn't married!

“What in the hell do you mean by wife!” I screeched while jerking my head away from Miroku's hand, “I'm not married! Especially not to some perverted creep!”

Miroku sighed, as if he knew something I didn't. That pissed me off even further. How dare he do that!

“Sango, I know it might be a lot to take in right now but—“

“The hell it is!” I jumped out of my seat, “How dare you tease me this way! I've never been married, I'm not married now, and I never will be married! Ever!”

“Sango, please, listen to me. I know who—“

“You don't know anything about me!” I cut him off, “You're just—“

“I know everything about you Sango, just as you know everything about me. We were married over five hundred years ago,” he stood up and walked toward me.

“Then, w-why don't I remember anything about you?” I asked suspiciously, backing up.

“Because you don't want to, Sango. I know everything about you. From the color of your hair to the size of your br—“

“When's my birthday?” I asked quickly and quizzically. I wanted to see if this guy really was the Miroku I thought he was.

“Which one?” he replied just as rapidly.

“What do you mean?”

“You have two: Your past life and your present life. Which one are you referring to?”

“Both. That is, if you can—“

“Past: September 14th. Present: March 6th. In the past you were born as the Demon Slayer, Sango Kunifu Kirureru. In the present, you are now known as Sango Fure Taijiya. In the past, your father raised you and your younger brother Kohaku to be the best demon slayers in your village. Later, you met me and the half-demon, Inuyasha, and his destined mate, the future girl, Kagome. You also had a pet fire cat feline name Kirara.”

Ha! He'd forgotten one thing. He wasn't the person he claimed to be.

I grinned smugly. “You claim to be `Miroku,” I said, “but you forgot—“

“Shippo was also a part of our group. He remains now, as he was five hundred years ago.”

Oh my Kami, it was him; my Miroku from my past life; my…husband. I did end up marrying him in the end. And he did know everything about me.

“How—how did you—“

“Do you not remember our wish from our past life? The wish we made on the Shikon No Tama?” he asked.

“Of course I do! But you—you can't be here! Not after all this time! I—I thought you seemed familiar—but…” I was utterly confused.

“Why didn't I see it in the beginning?”

“Because, as I said before, you didn't want to, Sango. Only you can answer that question,” he came toward me again, “I can't tell you the reason, because that reason is what tore us apart.”

“God damn it, Miroku! Quit speaking in riddles! As confusing as this is, I don't need you to make it worse!”

His smile was sheepish.

“Sorry my love, I merely—“

“Don't call me that. I don't know you anymore, and until I find out the reason why, you will refer to me as Sango.” I interrupted.

“Yes, of course, Sango. Forgive me.”

“And how do you remember all this; about Kagome and Inuyasha and the Shikon No Tama?”

“I was forced to remember it. I was cursed in my afterlife for what I did to you. You died hating me five hundred years ago, so you don't remember the reason why you hated me back then, now. However, although you did hate me, you only hated me to a certain degree. You still held a certain compassion for me, so you didn't forget everything. But you did forget the most important part, Sango,” he came toward me again, backing me up against the wall.

“W-what part was that?” I asked suddenly intimidated at the extremely predatory, but sexy light that suddenly graced his dark blue eyes.

“You fail to remember the love that we both held for each other before death claimed us.”

“What—what do you mean?” I flattened my body against the wall, hoping he'd stop tracing my hipline with his finger.

“Now Sango, don't be so shy,” his finger elevated to my waistline, “Doesn't this feel…right?”

Actually, it did. That hand of his was doing something to my blood. I'm not sure how, but I could've sworn I heard him in the back of my mind, urging me to give in to him. But of course, I would never tell him that.

“N—no,” I stammered trying to control my voice. Damn him and his tactics! “It doesn't. I don't know you anymore, and I'm not exactly in the credulous spirit.”

Miroku's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. I sighed. I really didn't want to relive Moutomaru again.

“A few days ago, I found out that my newly established fiancé was amoral for two thirds of the time he was with me.”

Miroku's expectant eyes waited for me to continue. “How long were you together?”

“Three years. We were together for three years. He was cheating on me for two out of those three years we were together,” I wanted him to stop asking me questions about `Mouto-bastard' as Inuyasha has so passionately called him.

“That's why I couldn't locate you. Your heart was taken by someone else,” Miroku mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

Miroku sighed and moved away from me. He sat back down on the couch.

“I know you're not going to believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Okay,” he sighed again, “I've been searching for you for a very long time, Sango. As you know, we all made a wish on the Shikon No Tama. Everyone got their own separate and personal wish, but we also had to make a wish as a group.” He paused.

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, even though you were very upset with me at the time, I knew you still at least cared for me,” he stood again, coming towards me.

My breath caught in my throat. There was something extremely familiar about Miroku's aura. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was there. As he came closer, it grew more intense.

“Miroku, what're y—“

“Shhh,” he shushed. Lifting a hand, he pressed his fingers against my temple. The side of my head throbbed where his fingers were located. It felt like my brain was having an unnerving spasm, and it was equally daunting how painless my head felt, even though I could feel my brain trembling.

“Miroku…” I suddenly felt warm, like I was being held in someone's arms… Miroku's arms.

He'd wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing me back against the wall. I barely noticed

`Mmm, this feels nice,' I thought. Suddenly, another voice entered my head.

`Doesn't it?' My head snapped to look at Miroku, my eyes grew wide. It was his voice that I heard inside of my head!

“What the hell!” I pushed myself away from Miroku, shaking my head rapidly.

“Sango what—“

“Y—you stay away from me!” I stuttered, “I don't know how you did that but—“

“Sango, please, calm down and let me explain,” he stepped forward. I stepped back. “Sango, just please—”

“No! Leave me alone! Just what the hell are you trying to pull, Miroku?”

“Let me explain. Just give me twenty minutes, and you'll know. Please?”

He held out his hand.

I stared at it as if I'd touched him and he'd burned me. Actually, in a way, he had. When, for a few moments, his hand was stroking the side of my head, I actually felt heat. It was… comforting. I also didn't miss the way he'd wrapped his aura around mine. Not that it mattered of course. I couldn't be falling for the pervert!

I ignored his hand as best as I could, seeing as my hand seemed to itch when I didn't take his.

“Fine,” I said, taking a deep breath, pooling my frayed nerves, “Explain.”

And he did, after leading me to the couch. He told me of my life as a demon slayer, of his as a Buddhist monk. He enlightened me of our life five hundred years ago. And last of all, he made clear to me of his wish to be connected to me, no matter what.

He narrated our adventures, with Inuyasha and Kagome. He enunciated how much he loved me then.

“And I still do. I've loved you forever, Sango,” he concluded.

I sat still, not moving, or even breathing. I soaked in everything he'd told me within the last half hour.

“You don't love me. You don't even know me!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” he answered blatantly, “I do. Whether you believe me or not, is up to you. After all, history repeats itself.”

“So, what exactly did you do to me?” I asked, still remembering the spine tingling incident of—seemingly—hearing him in my mind.

Miroku grinned softly, “I merely demonstrated my promise to you, and—in the process—my wish to the Sacred Jewel.”

“What do you mean?” I asked warily.

“I promised you that we'd be together forever. In making that promise, my wish to the Shikon No Tama was manifested.”

“What was your wish?”

He just smiled secretly, “That, dear Sango, is a story for another day, another chapter for another night. However,” he grinned sinfully, “I'd be willing to add a few chapters to the best book of all. Do you know what that book is, Sango?”

By then, he'd crawled over, and was hovering predatorily over me. I gulped. I felt tremendously vulnerable. The way he was staring so intently at me was doing strange things to my insides.

“No,” I responded, grateful that my voice didn't shake, “And I'm not sure I want to find out.” Miroku lowered his head.

“I think you do.” He was so close to my ear that I could virtually feel the air vibrating in the wake of his words. I was downright uncomfortable now. I didn't like how he was getting under my skin so easily. Even Moutomaru had an intricate time getting to know me.

I suddenly felt naked in front of Miroku. And judging by the perverted grin that had spread across his face, he knew it, too.

“Um, I'm going to go take a shower,” I stammered, sliding from under him. I felt his eyes moving with me.

“All right,” he said simply. “Mind if I join you? I could wash your back, or maybe even your a—“

WHACK

“Damn pervert!” I grumbled as I stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving a whimpering Miroku on the couch.

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Damn him. Damn him to hell. Miroku had his way with words; I'd already given him that. He was a sneaky, slithery, vile, inexcusable pervert that deserved nothing but throbbing and murderous pain.

Luckily for him, the stinging sensation of hot water scorching down my neck and back was sluggishly erasing him from my mind.

`You didn't really think I'd let you get away from me that easily did you, Sango?' A voice sounded in the recesses of my mind. I dropped the bar of soap that I had in my hand. It made a distinguished `thunk' at the bottom of the show.

“What the hell?” I felt shivers going up and down my spine as I peered through the glass cubicle of the shower. This was just creepy. How the hell did he get inside of my head?

As I bent down to retrieve the soap, my hand unexpectedly grazed my thigh as I bent back up. My mind felt hazy all of a sudden, like I was moving through a thick fog.

`Don't be afraid,' the voice chided. It was Miroku!

``Mmm, Sango.'

“M—miroku?” I slurred. I'd never been drunk before, but I'm pretty sure I knew what I felt like then.

“Yes, Sango?'

“How're you doing this?”

`It's a secret,' he replied. With each passing moment, my hand slid further up my body until it was just below my navel. I couldn't deny that it felt good.

“Mmmm—miroku, s—stop it. Whatever you're doing isn't funny.” I tried to remove my hand from the underside of my breast but it wouldn't move. It was like my brain had shut down.

`You wanted to know my wish, Sango. You now know what it was.”

“What? What're you—mmm…,” I moaned, as my hand slid further up. I didn't know what was happening to my body, but whatever it was, it wasn't bad.

`Don't deny your instincts, Sango. And I know you know what instincts I'm referring to, by the way.'

My hand slid lower this time. I wanted to pull my hand away, but I couldn't. It felt too… right. Perhaps Miroku had been telling the truth when he'd said I'd been married to him in the past. My brain felt like a piece of cotton. I wondered if…

“Wait a minute,” I said out loud, “Y-you're brainwashing me!” I gasped as I heard his deep chuckle in the back of my mind.

`I like to think of it as…extremely strong hypnotism,' he chuckled.

“How the hell are you doing that!” I yelled, frustrated.

There was silence in the other room.

“Miroku don't ignore me!” I shouted.

Still, no answer came from the living room.

“Damn him!” I grumbled, stepping from the shower, and grabbing my towel. Without thinking, I wrapped it around my body and unlocked the door. I looked around the living room and fixed my mouth to interrogate him, but there was no one there.

“Miroku? Miroku, where are you, you pervert?” I called.

`You'll have to find me, Sango,' that deep voice whispered in my mind. I shivered, despite myself. Double damn him!

“You better hope I don't find you anytime soon, pervert! I fully intend to kick your ass!” I yelled into the room.

I went to turn around towards his room, when I felt an unmistakable hand grab my rear.

“Mind if I take yours instead, my love?” Damn him and that husky voice of his!

Whirling to face him, the abuse I had intended to dish out died on my tongue, as he glanced down at my towel clad body. The abuse that I'd anticipated to dish out died on my tongue at the appreciative smirk that graced his lips. I made sure to pull the towel a little tighter around me.

“Sango, couldn't wait to have me, eh?” he smirked even wider. I growled.

“Miroku, what the hell is going on! Why are you inside of my head, and how the hell are you brainwashing me?” I burst out.

“As I said before, that's another story for another time. Now,” he evaded my questions. A hungry look settled into his eyes, “would you like to explain why you're dripping wet? Not that I mind, of course. I wouldn't object to having you `drip' in more ways than one.”

For some reason, I couldn't keep my heart rate from accelerating at that last statement. No mistaking him now; this was the Miroku that he claimed to be.

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?” I hissed at him.

He grinned, “Only on Tuesdays.”

“But today is only Monday, idiot,” I said sardonically.

“I know,” the impish look on his face intensified, “Just wait until tomorrow comes.”

I blushed down through the floor.

Despite myself, I steeled my nerves and backed away from Miroku, clutching still the green fluff closer to my body.

“I want an explanation, now. You're scaring me with this voodoo shit you've got going,” I narrowed my eyes, “I won't allow it in my home, and I can just as easily kick your ass out. Just because I'm humoring your aunt, doesn't mean that she'll find out.”

Miroku visibly swallowed at my threat, but nonetheless stood his ground.

“Believe it or not, Sango, but I don't do voodoo. And I really hope that wasn't a threat that just rolled off of your tongue,” he said softly. I made a move to respond, but he cut me off, “because as I seemed to recall, it was you who offered to take me in; not my aunt. Besides, this has nothing to do with her.”

“The hell it doesn't! I asked you for an explanation and I want—,”

“You want an explanation; fine. I'll give you an explanation in the morning. By this time tomorrow, you'll know all you need to know about us and this `voodoo'.” He emphasized `voodoo'.

“Just—oh, whatever. I just want to know why I can't seem to control my body in the shower anymore. Or why I can't think without your intrusions slinking through my mind!”

I turned and stalked toward my bedroom and slammed the door. I half expected him to follow me, but he didn't.

Somewhat disappointed without knowing why, I dressed and crawled into my bed, drawing the blankets to my chin. Closing my eyes and imagining good thoughts, —some that included Miroku…naked—I fell asleep again, not even realizing that he'd entered my mind yet again.

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“Sango? Wake up, Sango,” a warm hand patted my cheek, rousing me from a deep sleep. Batting the hand away and glancing at the clock, my eyes widened.

It was 8:30! I was half and hour late for work!

Cursing my luck, I attempted to draw back the sheets, but a firm weight was settled on the edge of the bed, rooting them in place. Glaring through sleep-blurred vision, I scowled at the cheery face that had let me sleep in.

“Well, good morning to you too,” the voice drawled mockingly.

“Damn it, Miroku, get off! I have to get to work! I'm late!”

His deep chuckle sent shudder throughout my body.

“Not today, you're not.” I struggled some more.

“Why the hell not?” Not waiting for an answer, I continued, “Did you kill someone?”

“No. But if you want an answer, look outside of your window.”

Seeing as my bed was up against a wall and directly underneath a window, I rose, careful not to fall. Peeking through the window, I gasped.

It was snowing!

Beautiful white crystals floated serenely to ground. Already, the scenery around my apartment was blanketed in a thick sheet of fluffy snow. I loved it when it snowed. In Japan, a festival was always held to welcome the first day of winter snow. I'd never missed a year.

“Oh my Kami,” I breathed, taking in the sight, “It's snowing. It's really snowing!” But then, just like that, panic struck. “Damn it! That damn weatherman was wrong! This wasn't supposed to happen for another two weeks! There's still the planning for the wedding to be done! And Thanksgiving's in a couple of days... Oh, what am I going to do?” Panicking, I spun around and looked at Miroku.

He looked to be in some sort of trance. I knelt down and waved my hand in front of his face, summoning him back to reality.

“I…could help…if you want,” he said slowly. “What do you need done?”

“I couldn't possibly ask you to—,”

“You didn't ask. I'm offering. Now again, what do you need done?”

I didn't want to tell him. There were a million things to be done for the wedding; and If I told him and he helped, then I'd owe him a favor. And knowing him, he'd want something perverted.

“Well, there's the food, the gift wrapping, the bridal shower, the bachelor party, the decorations, the—,”

“Alright. So, who's getting married?”

I smiled. “It's our very own Inuyasha and Kagome.” Miroku's eyes lit up with radiance.

“Really? Kagome and Inuyasha? I knew it! The prophecy did come true!”

I cocked my head, interested. “What prophecy?” Miroku's head inclined toward me.

“Why, the prophecy of The Four Souls of course.”

“What did the prophecy say?”

“The prophecy foretold that the four human protectors of the Sacred Jewel were bound by destiny to meet up again in the future. As it goes, according to the divination, history always repeats itself. Since Inuyasha and Kagome were married back then, they were destined to marry again in this time.”

“So, since according to you, we were married back then, we're destined to marry again, like Kagome and Inuyasha are?” I asked.

Miroku nodded. “Correct. Sometime during our lifeline in this time, we're destined to marry.”

I uncurled the blankets from around me and stood upright on the floor. “I doubt it.”

I grabbed my clothes as well as a few extra ones and walked to the bathroom and dressed for the weather. I made my way back to the bedroom. Miroku was still sitting on my bed, staring ruefully at his right hand, the hand where, in the distant past, his dreaded wind tunnel was located. Then, out of the blue, he spoke to me.

“Do you really hate me that much, Sango?”

I looked to him with a questioning gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you resent me so much that you would go so far as to deny a prophecy made by the gods?”

I looked at him, and stared into his eyes. Eyes that once sparkled with perverseness and mirth were now dulled with the potential knowledge that I harbored ill feelings for him.

I walked across the room and sat down on the bed next to him. I looked at his once cursed hand, and watched him trace a faint, but visible, circular scar that adorned his palm.

“Miroku,” I said with a sigh, “I… I don't resent you. I couldn't do that. It's just that I don't know you anymore. I remember bits and pieces of our relationship, and I do remember that I was deeply in love with you. But until I find the reason why I don't know the whole truth, I can't love you as you would want me to. At least not right now. Do you understand?”

He stopped the ministrations of his palm.

“Yes, of course. But answer me this, Sango. Will you be my friend?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Good,” that primal sparkle once again entered his deep blue eyes, “now, how about a kiss for your new friend?” He advanced toward.

“How about you don't touch me, and I won't slit your throat?” I asked gravely.

“Deal,” he answered quickly, while scurrying off the bed.

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A/N: Okay, well now! We'll see how this goes, shall we? Sango and Miroku are now friends. But how long will thatlast? One more thing: Should I continue to write in the character's POV, in my POV, or both? Let me know!

Sango's past name: Sango: Coral; Kunifu: Knife; Kirureru: Killer. So all in all, Sango's past name meant: Coral Knife Killer.

Sango's present name: Sango: Coral; Fure: Fire; Taijiya: Exterminator. So all in all, Sango's present name meant: Coral Fire Exterminator.