InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Reality, Touch and Understanding ❯ Chapter 1

Reality, Touch and Understanding

By Gimpyslair

 

 

Disclaimer: As if I owned Inuyasha…

Summary: Miroku and Sango talk. Inuyasha cares. Takes place between chapter 529 and 530. *MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS*

 

 

Nobody spoke. It had been a long day. They had been repairing all the damage caused by the surprise youkai attack that happened two days ago while waiting for Kagome to come back from her time. Everyone helped, even Jaken, though he was still under the shock of Rin's kidnapping. He had been complaining all day, barking about why they weren't on their way to help Sesshoumaru save Rin, but everyone else had agreed that the best move for now was to wait Kagome's return.

 

It was dark outside. Inuyasha, Sango, Kohaku and Shippo were around the fire, inside the new hut they had built. Shippo was asleep, exhausted from his day. He helped a lot: since every adult put their hands to work, he had taken the initiative to gather all the children and to occupy them by planting new vegetables in all the destructed gardens. Day by day he was getting older; he was taking more responsibilities than young kitsune of his age usually do. Kohaku was rubbing the back of his neck constantly. He was free from Naraku's grasp, he had stopped depending on the jewel shard, and for the first time in a year he could hear his heartbeat again. All his prayers were for the one person that had saved his life: Kikyo. Inuyasha was gazing at the fire; his thoughts were wandering around his obsession: Naraku. Killing him was now more urgent. He was more dangerous than ever with his complete, corrupted Sacred Jewel and they could no longer depend on Kikyo's light to purify it. He needed to kill him to protect Kagome. He didn't want her to be in danger anymore. He needed to kill him…

 

Sango was also lost in her thoughts, but she was more physically agitated. She kept sending worried glances toward the door and she couldn't stop herself from doing something with her hands, such as caressing Kirara or polishing Hiraikotsu. Inuyasha watched her as she bit her lips bloody. She had been like this since they came back from the fight with Naraku. He thought that she might be less nervous since Kohaku was free, but instead all her anxiety was now concentrated on one person, the most vulnerable of their entire little group. She didn't sleep at nights, Inuyasha knew because he didn't sleep either But the difference is that he is usually awake while she is usually asleep. But he couldn't blame her, really.

 

Suddenly she stood; she couldn't take it anymore. “That's it. I'm going to find him.”

 

And just as she was about to walk outside, Miroku entered the room, as if he had been planning his entrance. Nobody spoke and everyone looked at them.

 

Nobody could have broken their eye contact at that moment. Neither of them moved; they were lost in the other's eyes and suddenly everything around them did not exist. They were longing of each other as if they had been apart for months, while it has been for merely a day. Miroku suddenly smiled softly, his eyes showed a hint of sadness. “Do you want to take a walk?”

 

It took a while for Sango to react to his question, she was too concentrated on the sound of his voice. When she realised that he was waiting for an answer, she simply nodded, looking at the ground.

 

Inuyasha crossed his arms as he watched both of them were walk out of the hut. Kohaku shyly smiled, relieved that Miroku arrived to pass some times with his sister. Shippo suddenly whimpered, probably having a bad dream. The boy caressed the kitsune's hair to comfort him. It seemed to work: his breathing slowed and he stopped making nervous noises. Inuyasha was still looking at his two friends who were disappearing in the light mist that covered the area. With that sight, he threw more woods in the dying fire.

 

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Miroku and Sango walked side by side. He made sure to softy bump his shoulder into hers from time to time to increase their physical contact. Sango knew that he was doing it on purpose, but she didn't mind. In fact, she played the same game by accidentally brushing her hands with his. Each time contact was made, she could feel her heart beating faster and she loved it. They were touching each other more often in the past few weeks. Sometimes they would take hands, other times she would stroke his hair or he would rub her shoulders, always in privacy, though. She was always sitting close to him, close enough for him to have access to her bottom, just in case.

 

The young woman wasn't really aware of where they were going; she had let Miroku lead the way. When they arrived at the village's limit, Sango stopped, making him following her move.

 

“We are going outside the village? Do you think it's safe for us to wander in the forest alone in the night?” After all, as far as they knew, Naraku could strike from anywhere, anytime, just waiting for the perfect vulnerability.

 

“We are no safer here than in the village with so few fighters. We need to talk, so at least we could use some privacy.” Sango wanted to argue, but it had been such a long time since she had been alone with him and so much had happened in so few days, that she decided to simply trust his judgment.

 

They kept walking in silence. Sango could hear a faint sound that got a little bit louder as they walked. The air was more humid and the bushes were scarcer. They suddenly arrived at the foot of a waterfall. It was less dark, since the moon no longer had trees to block its light.

 

Miroku sat on the comfortable long grass, facing the river created by the waterfall. He looked up at her, smiled and put his hand on the ground, inviting her to join him. Sango gladly accepted the invitation and sat by his left side: their knees touched. For a moment, all they did was look at each other. Miroku moved a little bit so that he could more easily caress Sango's cheek with the palm of his hand. Her face was burning; she was getting redder by the second, but did nothing to hide it. She didn't want to break the contact with him and she knew that Miroku found her lovely when she blushed. She knew because he told her all the time.

 

Even though she did not want him to, Miroku removed his hand and his face grew serious. “I'm sorry I made you worried tonight. I have been meditating longer than I thought I would.”

 

Sango broke the contact of their eyes and directed her glance at the ground, where she began to tear the grass nervously. Sensing her growing stress, Miroku took her hand and began to massage, one by one, her delicate, yet deadly fingers. Her heart began to fill with nervousness, as she it had before Miroku arrived back at the hut. The one man that was the cause of all her anxiety was the one that made her forget all her fears. She didn't want to be worried again. She wanted to be happy and carefree, as she was moments ago. But Sango knew she couldn't avoid the reality any longer by closing herself in her perfect innocent dreams.

 

“If meditating makes you feel better, than meditate whenever time you need to,” she replied, trying to control her trembling lips. Coming back in the reality was hard to handle; too hard. Sango could feel her heart beating faster and unfortunately, it was not the same fuzzy feeling as earlier, when she was in her perfect world. In fact, she was worried. Worried sick. It was as though her stomach was upside down. Even Miroku's finger massage didn't affect her anymore.

 

There were no more secrets between them. As complicated as it sounded, she knew that he knew she knew. But in her head, it couldn't be simpler.

 

She needed to know.

 

To see it for herself.

 

She moved so that she could directly face the man in front of her.

 

“Miroku, please, show me.”

 

His heart skipped a bit. He always knew in his dirty mind that one day she would finally say his name while pleading with him, but no, this was not the circumstance he had wished for. Miroku looked at her, now in front of him: she seemed determined to have her wish granted. She would not move until he showed her what he had intended to hide from her for the past long weeks. There was no way he could escape this situation if he wanted to stay with Sango a while longer tonight. Never he would throw away an opportunity of being alone with her, no matter what was in stake.

 

With a sigh, with both of his hands, he slowly began to untie his kesa, taking off his dark and inner robe, until all he had left was his black tight pants and his right glove.

 

Miroku, ashamed, looked everywhere else but at her. He felt as if he had broken a thousand of promises in a single second. He promised himself to be faithful to her, to never lie again, to protect her from himself, to make her forget that she had a dying cursed man as a fiancé, to ease all her pain, to make her happy. By simply hiding his new curse, he feared he had wasted the last bit of trust Sango had for him.

 

She did not say a thing. Her eyes were all over the filthy spider-like marks that covered his body from his right hand all the way to his chest. The wounds were near his heart. He wouldn't survive the next time he opened his seal, that is, if his curse didn't consume him before it happened. The kazaana had made a sound for the first time three days ago. He wouldn't survive, Naraku have the complete Sacred Jewel, Kikyo's light wouldn't purify it, there was no more time left, and killing Naraku would be nearly impossible. He wouldn't survive.

 

He wouldn't survive.

 

Sango tried to contain a sob that had nearly escaped her mouth. Miroku was dying. Of course she already knew that, but it has always seemed far away. But it's only now, after all the battles they had fought, every moment he had opened the kazaana, it was all the time she had been by his side while he was poisoned that she had realized that he might not make it until Naraku's death, that they might not have a future together, that she might not live happy and fulfilled. Dark thoughts invaded her mind.

 

She cursed Kagome for leaving at a time like this.

 

She cursed Kohaku for not being able to pierce through Naraku's shield with the arrow before he pushed him away.

 

She cursed Kikyo for not having purified the Jewel as she had planned.

 

She cursed Inuyasha for not having stopped Miroku when he had drank the double-edged medicine.

 

She cursed everyone for nothing.

 

She cursed herself for everything.

 

Nothing could restrain her tears now; they were running freely down her cheeks as she cried loudly. She hid her face behind her hands. Everything was lost, it was too late, nothing could save him. Desperation was the only answer. Miroku removed her hands from her face and enveloped her with his arms. His left hand was around her waist while the cursed one gently stroked her hair. He moved closer so that her head could rest on his shoulder. He held her close and tightly, eyes closed.

 

Sango sobbed once more in his shoulder. Then, it happened. Hearing her crying, the heavy burden of being the cause of her pain, the failure, all the sadness that was filling his heart… He couldn't take it anymore. One tear came out of his already wet eyes. A second one came, and soon he cried too, silently, but he cried. He couldn't remember the last time he had shed tears in front of someone else, but it didn't matter. If it has to be done in front of one person, he would have chosen her.

 

For a long time, they were like this, crying, holding each other as if their lives depended on touching the other one. And then, without letting go of each other, they moved so that they could lie down on the grass. They were both tired; crying spendt a lot of energy. They finally began to calm down; their eyes were red and puffy from the tears. Sango was resting on the top of Miroku, her head on his chest. She could sense the movement of his deep breathing; it helped her to loosen up her tense muscles.

 

As the wind blew at them, Miroku felt Sango shudder. The temperature was getting colder, it was the night after all. So he let go of her, grabbed his kesa and covered it over both of them. For a long time all they did was simply watch the dark sky. When he needed human contact, he would move closer to Sango, just to make sure she hadn't left him. When she searched for comfort, she would cuddle with Miroku, just to make sure he was still with her.

 

Slowly, they began to relax, their tears dried. And then they began to talk. They talked all night about every single thing that came in their head, insignificant or not.

 

Miroku told her how him and Hachi had stolen a lord's mansion, how he had accidentally swallowed Mushin's sake when he was 8 years old, how he had begin his longing for women, how he had for a second forgot all about Naraku the first time he saw her, how he had secretly watched her bath two weeks ago.

 

Sango told him how her mother used to braid her hair before she died, how she had once bitten Kohaku for having hidden her doll, how she had kissed him when he was unconscious, how before she had wished he would take her hand instead of her bottom and how now she wished he would do it all the times.

 

It was a perfect night, really. They laughed, sometimes they cried, but it never lasted long. The happiness was slowly taking over their bodies again. They even kissed. Miroku had asked Sango to repeat the moment when she kissed him. She accepted and of course, and Miroku had added his signature by stroking her bottom. He requested to repeat the scene, but by exchanging the roles and before she could have given him a strait answer, he kissed her full on the lips. From that moment, they didn't stop touching each other. They kissed, they touched, they groped.

 

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Miroku and Sango were tiredly walking back in the village. It was the morning, they had fallen asleep under Miroku's kesa and they had slept no more than two hours. Suddenly, a rough angry voice was barking at them, “Where the fuck have you been all night!”

 

They didn't need to be Buddha to know who it was. The hanyou was standing right in front of them, arms crossed and totally pissed. “Kohaku and Shippo were worried sick! None of the villagers has seen you and I couldn't smell your scent anywhere. For all I know you could have been killed!”

 

Being beside a waterfall had probably masked their scent. However, even if their friend couldn't stop himself from swearing and shooting names at them, Miroku smiled. Sango walked toward the hanyou, ignoring his insults and before he could add anything, she hugged him. Her arms were around him, her face buried in his red clothes.

 

“We are sorry that we have made you worried, Inuyasha. We won't do it again,” she gently said to him, smiling.

 

Inuyasha obviously wasn't prepared for this reaction and sudden affection. She showed affection toward her brother, Miroku, Kagome, but never toward him. Sango was a warrior, like him. They cared about each other in other ways, by giving each other quick glances, by silent encouragements, sometimes by smiling, but it was never in a physical way.

 

He patted Sango nervously on her back and replied awkwardly: “I'm… I wasn't the one who was worried sick,” he said, defending himself while trying to cover his embarrassment. He had never been one to find it easy to speak his mind. “Beside… I'm not saying not to do it again… Just tell me first so… so Kohaku and Shippo won't have to be worried about both of you all night…”

 

Sango smiled at him once more and Inuyasha sighed in relief when she released him. He watched her curiously as she walked away to join Shippo, who did not seem to have realised that she had been absent at all. He then turned his gaze on Miroku, who hadn't stopped watching the young woman.

 

“Miroku, what did you do to her last night?” he asked, while scratching the back of his head. Ever since they had returned from the last encounter with Naraku, she had been nervous and irritated. She was always distracted and had made some mistakes when working in the village that would have never happen in her right state of mind. And suddenly, for some odd reason, she was all caring and relaxed, as if nothing could break her happiness. Miroku, who still hadn't lifted his gaze from Sango, simply replied:

 

“What does your twisted mind imply?”

 

“Keh, you're the one with the twisted mind! I know you didn't do anything like that! You don't have that kind of smell.” Inuyasha roughly responded while trying to hide his faint blush by looking away. He then added more quietly, with a hint of worried tone, “It's just that you smell like each other. Like each other's tears.”

 

He paused a moment and Miroku stopped looking at the female silhouette to look at his friend. Now that he had his full attention, Inuyasha added, “Are you two both… alright?”

 

The monk smiled. Even with trying to keep up the appearance of a selfish and dangerous hanyou, Inuyasha cared a lot about `weak humans' like him and Sango. Miroku responded truthfully to him.

 

“For a moment, we were both desperate, living together had seemed like an unreachable dream. My wounds, my curse, my health… My chances of surviving have never been as low as now.” He paused a moment, Inuyasha was listening carefully.

 

“But then, at some point of the night, our thoughts wandered away from this world and we talked. We talked about everything we have never spoken of before. It was the most common, ordinary and average conversation we ever had and it was wonderful. There was nothing about Naraku, nothing about death or strategy battle. It was just about us, for us. I learned a lot about Sango, she told me about her childhood, about her village customs, about how she imagined Kagome's world to be, about how she had found you annoying at the beginning and how she had found me even more unbearable… She also learned many aspects about me, facets she would have never thought of before. And it was like that all night.”

 

Miroku smiled softly as he remembered those moments.

 

“After everything that has happened, after all the times we have spent together, never I would have thought that I had known so little about Sango. Never have we been this open to each other. There was no restraint, no timidity, nothing. And now that I have tasted this pleasure, I can't wait to have more. I'm longing for more. I want to know her so perfectly that I could read her mind better than she does. That, if I wanted, I could write endless scrolls about who she is, about her life and about every insignificant detail concerning her.”

 

Then, he stopped smiling. His face hardened and with a determinate and loud voice, he finished while looking directly at the hanyou's eyes. “I am not going to let that bastard live, not if I can still breathe.”

 

Inuyasha stared back at the monk, he had been silent for all the time he had been speaking, but now he couldn't hold himself anymore. “I didn't know someone like you was able of losing hope.”

 

Inuyasha suddenly grabbed Miroku by his collar, their faces were so close that Miroku could feel the hanyou's quick breath on him. “I won't let you die, I won't let Sango live alone for the rest of her life. I would cut that hand; I would force Sesshoumaru to use Tensaiga on you. But no, you won't fucking die, no matter how stubborn you are to sacrifice yourself. You will have the pleasure of see that bastard's corpse at your feet and I will personally make sure that happens, monk!”

 

They stared at each other. Miroku grinned, Inuyasha smirked.

 

Nothing more was needed to be said: the unspoken understanding that bonds the two men did the rest of the conversation.

 

 

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AN: Why, but why are there so few manga-related fanfictions-fanarts in the Inuyasha fandom? Are they all hidden? Anyway, I was waiting for someone to write something like this, but when I saw that no one did (for now and for what I've seen), I decided to take the initiative. If you ever read a good manga-related fanfiction (especially Miroku and-or Sango and-or Kohaku ones): write to me RIGHT NOW and give me a link! (gimpyhair @ hotmail . com)

 

Alright, I couldn't help but smirk when I wrote Sango's “We are going outside the village? Do you think it's safe for us to wander in the forest alone in the night?” She looks so pure and innocent… I swear I didn't want to make it sound dirty, but I felt like I needed her to ask this question.

 

Some might think that a crying-Miroku-in-front-of-Sango is OOC, but I don't see it that way. Miroku is still human, he is not as swollen with pride like Inuyasha, I believe that once in a while he can be like this, especially at this point of the manga. Or maybe it's just because I'm a girl that I feel this way… Anyway, I agree that it turned out more angsty and emo than what I had in mind… But, whatever, I like the result!

 

My beta: STARZKI!

 

On an ending note: I LOVE REVIEWS!