InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Youkai and the Exterminator ❯ Chapter ThirtyThree ( Chapter 33 )

Chapter ThirtyThree

 

 

He kept touching her, running his fingers over her hair, caressing her arm. Every now and then he'd lean close, inhale deeply and sigh with contentment.

 

Almost as if he couldn't help himself, like the love he felt for her was so big it spilled out of him in waves, pooling around his feet and expanding with every beat of his heart. It made her warm and tingly, she wanted to giggle and shout and several times during the day, their eyes met and they both started laughing for no reason at all.

 

The tension between them was gone and their companions breathed easier. She caught a glimpse of Jano's smirk and blushed, she saw Miroku's appreciative glance and blushed again. Sango only smiled and shook her head, sitting bandaged and looking tired. She sat by her friend when Inuyasha took Shippou with him to go find them something fresh to eat.

 

"You look like you're very happy, Kagome."

 

She grinned, blushing and looking down. "I guess you could say we sorted it out."

 

Jano stretched and yawned, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "I'll say you did. Next time you two are feeling sweet, make sure you take it a little farther away from the rest of us. Inuyoukai have excellent hearing."

 

"So do certain humans," Miroku grumbled.

 

Kagome grinned unabashedly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb anyone."

 

Jano raised an eyebrow. "You didn't. And don't ever apologize for enjoying yourself, Kagome. Nothing sounds quite as sweet as the sound of a woman's voice lifted in pleasure."

 

Sango chuckled and met Miroku's smile. "That one is more perverted than you, houshi-sama."

 

The monk laughed out loud at her observation. "Must be an inuyoukai trait, perhaps I have some demon blood in my ancestry."

 

"In spirit at least," Jano offered generously.

 

"However," Miroku said seriously, "I have been thinking on the subject..."

 

"Big surprise," Sango murmured to Kagome.

 

He grinned at her comment. "I don't mean to pry, Kagome, but considering Sango's current condition, have you and Inuyasha thought about what to do if you also find yourself with child?"

 

Her face flushed and Kagome looked away. Miroku sounded like an older brother, a rather nosy older brother but she understood it was only concern that made him bring up such a private subject. She could also sense Jano and Sango's interest in her answer. "I'm...not worried about that."

 

Sango blinked at her. Under the circumstances, she damn well should be worried. Sango knew that she herself had been, well not careless, but certainly moved by the passion of the moment. And then the son of a bitch implied that it was deliberate, not a natural occurrence made by the deliberations of a random fate, but his choice. His choice, his choosing, like her own body didn't belong to her in the sense that maybe she should have been consulted.

 

He'd looked shocked at the idea that she had any say in the matter. Sango scowled briefly at that, nothing else convinced her so much as that simple attitude that Sesshomaru truly had seen her as nothing more than his latest acquisition, a demon slayer. One who would bear his child without question and put aside everything to please him.

 

And you would have been happy to do it, said the tiny voice in the back of her mind. Except that she had sworn to put an end to Naraku's evil and avenge her family. After that, she would have been deliriously happy if he'd asked her to have his baby. She would have been over the moon; she would have walked on water and blessed the fates that made him ask her for that.

 

It had never been a question of if she wanted this child, she desperately did and her hand wandered to her belly without thinking. Children were so important, especially to one who had lost all other connection to her family, to her home. She wanted to have this baby more than anything to complete that empty longing, to give Kohaku someone besides just herself as family. A baby would mean the healing of everything Naraku had wounded in her life.

 

She didn't know that Kagome felt that way; she understood her friend had another life, a strange and different life. From what Inuyasha had implied, Kagome's homeland left a lot to be desired. Smelly and loud, so dirty even the air tasted wrong. It wasn't for Sango to choose what Kagome thought of as home, but she did think that the girl might be taking the possibility of pregnancy a little too lightly.

 

"Kagome," she said at last, looking seriously at the girl. "How will your family feel if you do become pregnant with Inuyasha's child? Will they accept a child of demon blood?"

 

"That's not a problem," the girl said uneasily. "Mama and Souta wouldn't object to it. I know there's a chance of it happening, nothing is absolutely certain, but the chances are hopefully pretty slim that I'd have a baby."

 

"Are you infertile?" Jano asked, looking concerned. He sniffed the air delicately, searching for any hint of illness or wrongness in the girl's body. She certainly smelled like a healthy, fertile female.

 

Kagome saw him tasting the air and slapped at his hand. "Don't do that!"

 

"Do what?" he asked, curious about the embarrassed expression.

 

She scowled prettily. "You're sniffing for whether or not my body can have babies. I'm sure that's rude even by dog demon standards."

 

It wasn't, but the human girl's sense of privacy was obviously suffering from his natural curiosity. "I apologize," Jano grinned. "But I wished to know why you aren't concerned about conceiving a child. You seem healthy and physically able to do so, why do you think it unlikely?"

 

It looked like she was going to have to go there. "I'm on the pill," Kagome said quietly.

 

"The pill?" Sango and Miroku echoed in confusion. Jano scratched his head thoughtfully.

 

"Is that some kind of spell?"

 

"No," she said, blushing fiercely. "It's called birth control. Every day I take a pill and it tells my body I don't want it to have a baby." She'd actually been taking the prescription for more than six months, but she wasn't about to admit that. At the time she'd convinced herself that it was just in case, she hadn't been able to deny her strongly growing feelings for him although she wasn't sure Inuyasha felt the same. She'd guessed, she'd hoped, and asked her mother for a visit to the doctor with a trace of bashful modesty, but a veiled hope just the same.

 

She saw confusion in the faces of her friends and sighed. "Where I'm from, women sometimes put off starting their families until they're older. Like if they want to finish school or start their career before having babies."

 

"And their husbands agree to this?" Miroku asked, looking utterly fascinated by the concept. "You simply stop taking this pill and then you will able to have a child when you wish it?"

 

"Yes," Kagome said, wishing they'd just drop the subject. "And it's also for women who aren't married and don't want to have a baby by a man they might not stay with to raise the child."

 

Miroku closed his eyes blissfully. "So they can have as much sex as they please and not worry about possibly having a child. Such an enlightened age."

 

"It must truly be a wonderful place," Jano said fondly.

 

Sango gave a snort of disgust. "I swear you two were separated at birth."

 

Kirara yawned and sat up to absently scratch at her ear. Sango's eyes were drawn to the petite feline, smiling as Kirara's body twisted impossibly, stretching to groom one of her tails. Her fingers moved of their own accord, scratching behind the kitten's ear and getting a blissful response. She felt like she could almost hear what Kirara was thinking, warm waves of understanding issued from the tiny body and she grinned.

 

She automatically wanted to stretch out the other arm to capture the other tiny ear, but the bandages still constricted her movement. It was annoying, but it didn't hurt. Sango sat up, feeling for her other wounds. They didn't hurt either.

 

"Kagome," she called, "will you help me take these off?"

 

Kagome frowned. "We should probably change the dressings; some of those scratches looked deep. You can't let them get infected."

 

The young women sat down and Kagome gingerly moved Sango's patched yukata off her shoulder. Her hands gentle, Kagome peeled back the first bandage and let out a gasp.

 

Sango twisted her head to try to look down her back. "What, is it bad?" she asked tensely. She really didn't need another scar and hoped the damage would heal decently. Kagome's medicines worked miracles on wounds.

 

"It's gone," she exclaimed, meeting Sango's startled gaze. "The scratches are completely gone." The others came over to watch as Kagome unbound Sango's broken arm. "Flex your fingers," the younger girl ordered.

 

Sango flexed. Her fingers tingled a bit, but there was no pain, no discomfort at all. "I don't believe it."

 

Inuyasha darted a glance at Jano. "I've heard of this happening with hanyou pregnancies."

 

The bodyguard shrugged. "I've seen it happen before. If the baby is going have strong youki, the human mother will take on some demonic traits."

 

The half-demon frankly looked suspicious. "When did you see it happen before, I can't see my brother putting up with a bunch of half breed brats running around his fortress. Who do you know that had an inuhanyou baby?"

 

Jano glared at him. "Your mother, stupid."

 

Inuyasha looked shocked. "You...you met my mother?" he asked in a hushed tone. It had never occured to him, not for a minute that Jano might have had a connection to him like that. The inuyoukai had implied that he was the same age as Sesshomaru, he guessed it was possible.

 

Grinning, Jano nodded. "A lovely person," he said mildly. "I only saw her briefly, understand, and she certainly didn't share particulars of her pregnancy with me. But yes, I met the lady."

 

Kagome wondered if Jano knew about the time Sesshomaru had deceived Inuyasha, made him think that he had resurrected Izayoi from the dead for the purpose of tormenting her until her son revealed Inutaisho's grave. She set her jaw, deliberately not looking at the bodyguard and decided that yes, he had to know about that. After all, Sesshomaru had returned from the encounter missing an arm, she didn't think that his so trusted bodyguard would have been left ignorant of why.

 

"If you only met her once, how did you know about hanyou pregnancies?" Inuyasha persisted. He couldn't help it, he was curious. These were details he'd never get out of his closed mouth prick of a brother and he'd damn himself right alongside Sesshomaru before he went begging information from the cold-hearted son of a bitch.

 

Jano just rolled his eyes at the question. "Because," he said in a cool tone, "your father let everyone in the entire fortress know about it. With the amount of difficulty the poor woman had to endure, he predicted that you'd be the biggest brat ever born. I'm glad to say that you didn't disappoint him."

 

He turned to Sango and smiled, dismissing Inuyasha's sullen glare. "Healing faster is common, over the next few weeks you will notice that many of your senses will seem to sharpen. You should see better, hear better, smell things you've never noticed before."

 

Sango looked a little queasy. If the way she could smell things now was any indication, she honestly didn't know how dog demons could stand it. "Is this permanent?" she asked, feeling green. She wasn't thrilled by the idea of being able to scent every single bodily function of the people around her.

 

He looked sympathetic. "Not at all, from what I understand your body will return to its normal state after the child is born. It's the baby's youki that is doing this to you as it is driven to protect itself. Making you stronger and faster, sharper and able to heal quickly accomplishes this goal."

 

Kagome found that she was fascinated in spite of herself. "Is the baby aware of what's happening?"

 

Jano frowned slightly, studying the sky. "I am no midwife," he said at last. "Or a healer. It happens sometimes that inuyoukai mothers can communicate with their unborn children later in the pregnancy. On a very instinctive level at least, Sango should be aware of her child's presence, but how much a human can interpret of this bond, I have no idea."

 

"Thank you anyway," Sango said, looking a little shy. "I was wondering what was happening to me. I'm grateful to have an explanation."

 

Jano nodded, and then frowned again, looking like he'd just recalled something. He rummaged around a bit in the small pack he carried under his ebony furred cloak, retrieving something with a satisfied grunt.

 

"Here," Jano said, holding out a bundle to Sango. She looked frankly suspicious. "From Makiko," he said, his voice oddly burred with some suppressed emotion.

 

The young woman accepted the package and opened it. She looked up, surprised. "Clothes?"

 

Jano nodded. It hadn't been his idea, it had been hers. Makiko told him that Sango hadn't taken any clothing other than her exterminator's uniform. The beautiful kimonos she'd been gifted with had been left in her room. Her uniform was falling apart now, sliced by a bear-oni's claws.

 

Sango was deathly afraid that Kagome might just suggest she borrow some of her strange clothes. She didn't think she could fight in a skirt that short, it wasn't decent. But what Jano handed her was different. She could feel the quality of the materials, heavy, rich. The kosode had a high collar; the sleeves were long but not too wide. The dog demon politely turned his head when Sango slipped into the trees to try it on. It was comfortable, the thick material swished around her ankles, making her wiggle her toes in enjoyment.

 

"It's beautiful," she said. "Please thank Makiko for me."

 

He grinned, pulling another package from under his cloak. "This I'm sure you will like."

 

Sango unfolded it and took a deep breath. Armor, she'd lost her own, it had been torn apart by the bear. This was black leather armor and she held it up, measuring a piece against her forearm. A perfect fit. Then she realized that it was identical to Jano's, right down to the same sigils and marks. She looked at him curiously; the inuyoukai turned a deep shade of red.

 

"It belonged to a friend of mine," he said quietly. "I know she'd like you to have it."

 

The exterminator frowned for a minute, trying to recall the name. "Namichi," she murmured.

 

The bodyguard nodded easily. "She was very loyal, there's nothing she wouldn't have done for Sesshomaru. Although she had a mouth on her that nothing could shut and she'd probably roast his ears for what he's done to you."

 

Jano grinned suddenly. "And I'd like to see that myself, but she's not around or she'd want to offer her protection to your baby. If you'll use her armor, it would honor her very much."

 

"It would honor me," Sango said softly. She was touched; she didn't know why it was affecting her so much. She wasn't embarrassed to cry in front of her friends, gods already knew she'd done enough of it the past week.

 

Somehow this gesture, coming not from Sesshomaru who owed it to her, but from Makiko and Jano, inuyoukai themselves and intensely loyal to their lord, held a deep significance. She understood that bond and realized that it was something that most humans would never experience. Sango, demon exterminator and pregnant with a daiyoukai's child, suddenly knew what it was like to be youkai.

 

Strange emotions were raging in her heart, she felt fierce, and she felt frightened. She wanted to scream but at the same time she felt deadly calm. It was hard to deal with; surges of hormones underlined every emotion, made it stand out in bold black and white, intense as rock salt in a raw wound. She knew one thing, she wanted to be alone with it for a few minutes, get some understanding.

 

"Excuse me," she said, gathering her new armor like it was precious to her and heading for the woods.

 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the small clearing that no one wanted to break. Inuyasha sat down next to Kagome and put his arm around her shoulders, smiling as the girl leaned trustingly into him. Her small fingers wound around his and he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin.

 

Miroku chuckled as he watched them, amused to see the usually volatile couple at long last enjoying each other's company. It made him happy and wistful at the same time. He missed the flirting and fighting he used to do with Sango. Everything was so serious and even Miroku had enough sense to know that a friendly squeeze on the pregnant woman's backside might cost him his life as well as any hopes he had of fathering children.

 

He leaned back, relaxing but still feeling a bit bored. It was still early in the day; they'd already agreed to rest here while Sango recovered from her wounds. Of course, none of them had expected her wounds to heal quite that quickly.

 

Miroku didn't mind, he himself thought he could use a bit of a break after the heart stopping actions from yesterday. He'd never forget the cold horror that had washed over him when he'd seen Sango lying helpless under a bear-oni's claws. It sickened him and made him curse with anger that he hadn't been there to help, prevent her from getting injured in the first place. So she didn't belong to him, so what? Miroku couldn't just cut off his emotions. He wasn't a youkai like Sesshomaru; he could not just stop loving someone.

 

The thought made him angry again. Where was that cold-hearted bastard when the woman who loved him and bore his damn child in her womb was getting sliced to bits by sharp claws? Where was he when Sango had cried out for him, seeking him even in her wounded state? A tight fury gripped his heart, his hands tightening almost convulsively. He didn't deserve her.

 

Jano cocked an eyebrow at the monk, sensing the man's turmoil and guessing at its cause. Not his business to interfere or make a comment. The monk had to deal with his problems on his own. He watched as Miroku stiffly drew himself to his feet.

 

"If you don't mind," he said to no one in particular, "I think I'll take a walk."

 

"Yeah, whatever," Inuyasha muttered, oblivious to everything except the curve of Kagome's waist under his hands. Kagome didn't answer at all, leaning into the hanyou to rest her cheek against his chest, eyes closed in contentment as the two settled together like the rest of the world had completely ceased to exist.

 

Miroku let his feet take him where they wanted; right now he just wanted to stop thinking. It wasn't fair that Sango should love Sesshomaru, that she should waste that gift of affection and tenderness on a demon that couldn't appreciate it. He'd felt better when he'd convinced himself that it was just sex between the two, after that, he'd been happy for her.

 

Jealous maybe, but happy just the same. It wasn't one emotion or the other; it was a mixture of feelings, a blend of bitter and sweet. If his own feelings had simply been carnal, desiring Sango for her beauty or her delicious body, he wouldn't be so angry with the youkai lord. Damn it, she didn't deserve to be cast aside, left to learn about human-inuyoukai pregnancy from his damn bodyguard.

 

And why the hell would someone like Sesshomaru need a bodyguard anyway? It sure as hell didn't make any sense to Miroku.

 

But the worst, the absolute worst part about it was that he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He couldn't go find Sesshomaru and force him to act like a decent creature and take care of the woman he'd claimed as a mate. He couldn't persuade Sango to give up her love of the demon either, the last thing she needed to hear from him was that she was a fool for loving.

 

He'd never say that to anyone, not ever. Life could be harsh, life could be brutal. You needed to grab hold of what happiness you could find, grab with both hands and not let go. Life could be extremely short when you woke each day and went to sleep each night with a curse in your hand. Not for the first time, Miroku wondered what exactly had been going through Naraku's mind when he'd cursed his grandfather with a hellhole in his palm.

 

It would take his life, as it had taken his father's and grandfather's before him, but there was no denying that it was also a powerful asset. A weapon that made him equal or better to many of the demon forms they'd encountered. Why would Naraku curse anyone with such a destructive force?

 

He sighed, not liking the contemplation or the answers he might find. Because such a powerful weapon could not be forsworn, because each time he used it, in self-defense, in pursuit of the shards, he brought himself closer to death. Inch by painful inch, the feeling made his palms itch. It hurt sometimes, waking him in the night with the sense of impending doom.

 

But he'd become accustomed to it, having seen his father's violent demise, felt the burning air rip split the skin of his palm when he was hardly older than Shippou. If it hadn't been for Mushiin, he would have died long ago, sucked into his own despair.

 

The old monk had been a good teacher, at least when he wasn't drunk. Miroku didn't care much for the taste of alcohol, not after waking his master on more than one occasion after finding him passed out in his own sick. To this day he associated the rank smell of stale liquor and vomit as home, but he understood that sometimes a man drank for reasons that couldn't be helped.

 

One thing old Mushiin had managed to pass on to his young apprentice and that was life was for enjoying. It was foolish to waste the precious hours and seconds of their meager days in guilt or self-denial. This was a good philosophy for him as Miroku failed pathetically at denying himself anything. Why roll around in guilt and question your motives when there was pleasure to be had and pretty girls to pass the time?

 

He found himself thinking of that young demoness again, not the dark haired one, but the one with burnished auburn hair. Aiko had been her name, a lovely name for a lovely, lovely girl. Hell, he shouldn't call her a girl; she was probably older than he was, maybe by a few centuries for all he knew. Not that you could tell anything when you ran your hands over her firm body or tasted the delectable sweetness of her lips.

 

Miroku wondered if he'd see her again. He also wondered that if he did see her again if she could be persuaded to be just a little gentler with his poor human flesh. Apparently being involved with a dog demon required a certain amount of stamina and fortitude. Miroku was pleased that he'd displayed both to Aiko's satisfaction, as well as that of her pretty friend.

 

It was really a pity that Inuyasha and Kouga had managed to get them all kicked out of the fortress before he'd had time to really get to know the young demon woman or heal enough to enjoy her company again.

 

Two of them had been a little overwhelming, he'd had to be selfish about it and focus on his own survival. Miroku would have liked to have taken his time with each of the young ladies, but they'd been so damn aggressive, so demanding that it had left him more than a little unnerved. As often as he'd dreamed of it, he'd never been pursued and put to the test like that before.

 

A man had to know his limitations. Next time he'd make sure it was just the one, that beautiful Aiko. If he ever got the chance, which looked doubtful unless a certain youkai lord pulled his head out of his ass and stopped being such an impossible bastard.

 

And perhaps Naraku will just offer to remove that curse for nothing, he told himself sarcastically. And Inuyasha and Kouga will kiss each other on the mouth next time they meet and decide to share Kagome's affections. It was about as bloody likely as Sesshomaru thawing long enough to realize that he was throwing away something extraordinary by dismissing Sango like she'd been nothing more than his bed wench.

 

Speaking of Sango, he thought, staring at Hiraikotsu left leaning negligently against a tree. He hadn't realized she'd come this way, not being gifted with a dog demon's sense of smell. His ears detected the slight sound of running water, a stream? A hot spring perhaps? He wasn't sure but the pervert in him didn't want to let it rest. Miroku licked his dry lips and considered the appropriate moral response.

 

She could be bathing, in which case she'd murder him for walking in on her. On the other hand, she was emotional these days, distraught from the pressures that had to be tearing her up inside. Impending motherhood, a lover's rejection, who could blame the woman for needing a little time to herself to sort things out?

 

And what kind of friend would he be to just let her muddle through it, lonely and alone? Miroku raised his chin and silently prayed to Buddha for mercy. And that he might get a good look at her before she knocked his teeth loose. He moved quietly through the trees, heading for the sounds of water.

 

I'm just checking on you, Sango, he prepared in his mind. I was concerned for you, I'm not really trying to peep, but if you wouldn't mind...no, that would get him killed.

 

I have come to offer an ear for your troubles, Sango. I want you to know that I'm always here to listen, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, or if I can offer comfort to you in any way possible, I would be more than happy to... He stopped himself, shaking his head. "You really are a pervert," he told himself.

 

He rapped the end of his staff against an obliging tree, letting the brass ring gently in the quiet forest air. "Sango," he called out. "Are you here?"

 

"Miroku?" her voice answered. "Don't come back here, I'm not dressed yet."

 

He groaned and closed his eyes. An opportunity. Wasted. Damn him for deciding to put his lecherous tendencies on hold, moral superiority really didn't suit him. "I should have chosen another profession," he muttered, his tone dark as he waited for Sango to appear. She came out of the bushes, trying the wide soft sash of her new clothing.

 

He gave her an appreciative glance, rather approving of Jano's gift. The soft dark fabric clung to her body lovingly, outlining her perfect figure and contrasting with her pale skin. It wasn't as snug as her exterminator uniform, but the severe cut of the garments gave her elegance, an imposing air of authority and beauty that quite took his breath away.

 

"Are you done staring?" she asked, humor evident in her tone. Some things never changed; although she had to give him credit for not barging in on her while she had been bathing. She'd still had a little blood on her from her earlier wounds and loathed the idea of letting the smell get into her new clothes.

 

Miroku grinned at her expression, half amused and half annoyed with him as usual. "Can I help it if I'm awestruck by your beauty?" he asked gamely, hoping to see her smile.

 

She did, blushing a little as she always had when he flirted with her. Sango shook back her hair, left hanging loose down her back. The dark strands fell over shoulder, catching the sunlight and giving him hints of red and gold highlights.

 

"I came to see if you were all right. You looked a bit overwhelmed."

 

Sango sighed heavily and sat down on a log, using her fingers to comb her hair. "I didn't mean to get so emotional. It must be the demon blood, I'm glad Jano explained it to me. I honestly thought I was going crazy."

 

He sat down next to her, smiling. "Emotional? I hadn't noticed."

 

"Oh you liar," she said, laughing. He loved her laugh. "I've been acting like a wild woman ever since...since..." she trailed off, her eyes going dark as she looked away. Since he'd thrown her out, cast her aside? Abandoned her and their child to fend for themselves without him.

 

"Sango?" Miroku's voice was very gentle. "It will be okay, Sango. Don't worry about it."

 

"I'm not worried," she told him in a voice every bit as soft. "I'll be fine. I know I'm not alone; you and the others will stay by me. I don't doubt any of you."

 

He nodded. "Good, we can't completely understand how you feel, but if there's anything we can do, all you have to do is ask."

 

Her hand covered his and Miroku tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his chest. "It's just that I miss him," she said, sounding ashamed. “I know I'm being stupid, but I can't help it."

 

"You are not stupid," he answered passionately, grabbing her hand and squeezing it hard. "Don't ever say that, you are not stupid for loving, Sango. He's a fool, a lost, misbegotten fool for not understanding that."

 

A tear formed in the corner of her eye and slowly slid down her cheek. He followed its track with his gaze as the droplet fell from the smooth surface of her skin. Gently, he raised his bound hand and brushed it away, the tip of his finger tracing the line of her face.

 

"It breaks my heart to see you this way," he murmured, his expression full of emotion.

 

She caught her breath and held back a sob. "Miroku," she whispered, her hand finding his. "I don't deserve someone like you by my side."

 

He didn't think about it, he was way past thinking. She was so close, so vulnerable and soft. He didn't think he'd ever seen her eyes so beautiful. Unshed tears made them sparkle like jewels and he found he was starting to breathe faster, his pulse speeding up at the intimacy of the moment and the nearness of her.

 

He could feel the heat of her body reaching towards him and Miroku longed to hold her, soothe away those wasteful tears and stroke the shining length of her hair. He knew that he shouldn't, he knew it in the same way he knew every bead of the rosary that bound his hand. It was smooth and familiar, the texture of her rejection. He was well accustomed to the way she'd always pushed him away and still pulled him closer with every movement. It hurt, it stung in a delicious way and part of him wanted it to always sting and burn, a blister on his heart.

 

Sango watched his face soften, the way his eyes slid dreamily out of focus as they watched her lips. She knew this feeling; she had seen it before but not with Miroku. Suddenly the air seemed too thick and heavy for her lungs as the monk leaned closer, his lips softly parted. Because she did love him, not at all in the same way as she loved Sesshomaru, but it was indeed love she felt, Sango allowed it.

 

Their lips touched, so gently, so briefly, like firefly lighting on a leaf. Then he moved back, looked her right in the eyes as he put his hand to her cheek and kissed her again.

 

She closed her eyes, letting him tilt her face back as the gentle pressure on her mouth increased and his tongue probed between her lips sweetly. She let herself relax into the moment, accepting him, not wanting him to feel rejection from her. For all the times she had rejected him, yelled at him, hit him with Hiraikotsu or the flat plane of her hand, she gave him this one kiss.

 

It wasn't as if it meant nothing, oh gods, it meant everything.

 

Her loyal friend, wistful almost-lover, defender and support. He was the rock when she shattered and broke; he was the soothing cool wind when fever and despair fed on her soul. She would never forget him just as she did not forgive herself for not being his. Her hand strayed to the back of his neck then brushed the dark wisps of his hair back from his forehead. She'd always wanted to do that, knew she wanted to and didn't dare because he'd always take it for an invitation she wasn't ready to extend.

 

Miroku felt that touch, felt her return his kiss, tenderly, passionately even. Giving him a taste of what she was, who she was and what she wasn't ever going to be. It saddened him even as the soft kiss aroused him. Miroku had kissed more than a few women in his day.

 

When he was a child, flirting shamelessly with the village women who cuddled and kissed him. As a teenager when he talked maidens out of chaste pecks on the cheek and more when he could. And he'd kissed women who saw him as a handsome charmer, women who gave their favors away for a price, and women who sought comfort in the arms of a gentle voiced monk.

 

He'd kissed enough women to tell the difference, that slim shade of knowing when a girl desired him and when she simply kissed him, but her heart did not move beyond that. He was not what she needed.

 

Sango saw the sadness in his eyes when he pulled away, still tender and rueful, but understanding her just the same. No bitterness was in his tone, only a wistful desire and regret. "Somehow," he said, almost confessing as his fingers rested on her face. "I've always thought that somehow you...you wanted me."

 

Her lips parted to answer, but he saw Sango's eyes go wide, sensing something in the currents of the air. Premonition maybe or just her newly superior sense of smell and sharpened instincts. Then he felt a crushing pain in his throat as Sango was torn away from him. He didn't see what attacked them, only the rush of wind in his ears, watching as the exterminator was flung backwards off the log where they sat.

 

It was disorienting as hell, being grabbed by the neck and dangled like a dead rabbit in a snare. Both his hands clamped desperately around the icy iron wrist that held him, wincing in pain as the sharp claws punctured his skin. Cold golden eyes stared into his; the expressionless mask had melted away to reveal the angry demon that lurked inside the elegant lord. Sesshomaru looked pissed as hell but Miroku couldn't think about that as he was being slowly strangled by the weight of his own body hanging from the youkai's powerful grip.

 

"You dare touch what is mine?" the demon hissed, his eyes glowing in crimson fury.

 

Miroku felt his throat being crushed by Sesshomaru's tightening grip. The inuyoukai could probably break his neck with just a twitch of his fingers. The monk's face was turning purple from the pressure, his pulse beating a frantic rhythm against his temples. He could open the air rip in his hand, which would defeat the demon.

 

Almost his fingers twitched towards the beads, but he knew that even as he destroyed Sesshomaru, he would destroy himself, sucked into the gaping void of his curse. So he hung limply, waiting for a revelation or rescue. It really was a shame that Sango would have to see him die; she would never forgive herself for it.

 

He heard a whirring sound and saw the pale hair of the demon lord stir when something passed over them, something fast and deadly, almost clipping them before it spun in an elegant arc and returned to the hand of she who had thrown it. Sesshomaru snarled, his burning gaze shifting from Miroku's agonized face to that of his mate, his lover and the mother of his heir.

 

Sango caught the boomerang neatly in her practiced grip, one arm flung up as the other's hand splayed on the ground. She rose from her half crouching position slowly, never taking her eyes from Sesshomaru's. Iron will was the only thing in her eyes, resolve and fury radiating like a palpable force from her slender frame.

 

"Let him go, Sesshomaru," she said in a tone as icy as a youkai lord's soul. Her fingers flexed on Hiraikotsu. "I swear I won't miss a second time."