InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ To Make Things Right ❯ Pleasant Memories ( Chapter 2 )

I pick up the knife. Even though it seems clean, there is a trail of dark liquid from where the shiny weapon lay to the body of a young girl. Her face is shadowed, but I can tell from her sprawled form that this knife has dug into her heart and maliciously twisted it. Crusted blood is matted in her dirty blond hair, and sticky trails come from her still form. Sticky trails that cover my fingers, coating them a sickening red. I relish the feel of it on my fingers… it keeps me alive.

I woke up, breathing hard, a layer of sweat covering my forehead as I sat up. I turned and saw Miroku's gaze intently on me, my heart still pounding from the vividness of the dream. I was unsure if he had been awake the whole time, but as I stared back at him, my whole body still shaking, he came over and sat down beside me. I didn't see Inuyasha in the hut; he must have been outside. Kagome was in the other room with Shippou.

“Sango,” he said, looking concerned, “did you dream about Kohaku again?”

Mutely I shook my head no. “It was different. To be honest, I don't know what it was about. I mean, I didn't understand it. But… it scared me, Houshi-sama. It scared me so much, and I know it is not real, but I cannot shake off this feeling that - that -”

“That what?” he encouraged me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I leaned against, gathering strength from his warmth.

“Something is going to happen. I don't know how or why, but something is coming, and I don't know if we'll be able to meet it,” I finished, looking down.

He held me gently. “Sango, don't say things like that. We will get through whatever it is.” He took my hands in his. I tried to prevent a blush from coming on, but that was impossible. I prayed it was too dark for Miroku to see my face.

I shook my head. “Houshi-sama… you don't know that.”

“You're right. I don't,” he said bluntly, effectively shocking me into silence. I hadn't expected him to agree with me! “But I am determined to try my hardest to get through whatever it is that you say is coming… and I trust you.”

I blushed even more, knowing full well that he knew I didn't trust him. “Could you - could you hold me? Just until I fall asleep,” I added quickly. “And no perverted moves, Houshi-sama.”

A flash of hurt passed in his eyes as he let go of my hands. “Sorry,” I said quietly. “I just… I didn't mean it to sound so…”

“It's alright,” he said at last, still holding me, but the tone of his had a hint of frustration and annoyance in it. “I understand your warning, but I would not touch you like that at a time like this, Sango. You should know me better than that.” His words, although spoken in no more than a very low tone, made a slight twinge of guilt build up in me.

“I'm sorry. I…” I looked away. How could I say it without revealing anything? Without telling him how much I cared? I was so afraid to allow myself to trust someone, and in doing so, I hurt those that I loved.

He put his hand over mine. “I know you did not mean that Sango,” he said softly. “You know I care about you, right?”

I didn't answer, instead choosing to look away to avoid his persistent gaze.

"Do you trust me?"

I still didn't answer, a pink flush creeping onto my face.

He sighed. I think he decided not to push it tonight, although I knew this would not be the last time he asked that question. I would never let him know the answer - at least not until Naraku was destroyed. In a way, that would be the end of everything, and the beginning of something we had hoped but had only imagined.

“I know this will sound… a bit… Kami, I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like such an idiot,” I babbled on, shifting further away as possible from the monk, which unfortunately only made his apparent concern for my sudden change in emotional mood increase.

“Sango, what is it?”

“I want you to… I want you to hold me. I don't… I don't like this feeling I have, it's almost like when Kagome-chan senses the jewel shards, but this is a different kind of detecting. I can't tell what it is, or when it will come, but I know it's coming,” I tried to explain, daring a glance to see his face contorted with confusion. He must have thought the midnight hours were getting to me; I never talked like this. Most of the time it was Kagome that spoke like this in the case of impending danger.

After an awkward moment of silence, he drew me into his arms, resting his chin on top of my head. I would never admit it to him, but it felt… nice. And safe. Just being beside him, his shoulder brushing mine, was enough to make my heart pound and I had to concentrate twice as hard on the task at hand otherwise I would be distracted by him. Although lately my concentration in battles had been off lately, and Inuyasha yelled at me afterwards, but he had saved my life, so I knew he didn't really mean it. In the beginning of our travels, Kagome-chan used to tell me not to take anything he said to heart, and I didn't. But it was still nice to know he cared.

“I hate sounding so… so negative like this, but the dream… it really…” I was getting frustrated. How could I describe something that only I had felt? He would not be able to understand the horror that passed through my body when I realized that I had sliced her body like that. Had I really done that? No, I couldn't have. The girl had looked completely unfamiliar to me, and why would I be holding a knife with blood dripping from it? In my mind, the blood darkened even more and the sprawled body of the little girl turned into my little brother Kohaku. For a moment, my defences weakened, making me more vulnerable to my emotions.

“There was… there was so much blood,” I whispered, feeling his gaze intensify on me. “I don't know how… “

He held me tighter, the warmth in his arms only beginning to calm my nerves down. “Sango, it's alright. It's just a dream. You're overreacting because it -” He hesitated, looking uncertain about whether or not I would become angry at his words, then continued, his voice softening. “ - it reminds you of what happened to your village and to Kohaku,” he finished.

“I know,” I answered, my voice wavering. “I can't help but think about… everything that has happened. When I see Kohaku, I remember all the good times we had. I remember when he used to try so hard to make Father proud, trying to catch his scythe but missing, so that the metal cut his skin and I had to bandage it up afterwards.” For a moment, I smiled faintly while I played the memory in my head, hearing Kohaku's voice before it went emotionless and the determined words that kept up his courage about becoming a taijiya became controlled by Naraku, shouting hurtful things at me because he could not remember that I was his older sibling.

Kohaku threw the silver weapon and it caught around the pot targets Father was always telling us to aim at. “I did it!” Kohaku said, looking proud of himself, at the same time preparing to catch the scythe as it completed its swing and came back at him.

Father and I were watching him. I was there, simply encouraging him, trying to build up his self-confidence; Father was there only to strictly supervise his training.

The sharp weapon came back at him, and he held out his hand in the correct position so he could twist his wrist back to catch it properly without cutting himself, but he moved too slowly and the round blade swung into the tip of his palm, and through his fingers. Blood dripped steadily from the cut, and he held his injured hand with the other one, making an embarrassed face. “Agh…”

Father took a step forward, chastising him. “You are not concentrating hard enough Kohaku,” he said sternly. “You have to be more careful when you catch it! You need to practise more.”

A few minutes later, Kohaku sat on the front step of our hut, examining the bandages I had wound around the small injury. Kirara joined him, mewing and taking a seat beside him, licking her paws.

I came out and sat down beside him, Kirara between us. “How is your injury, Kohaku?” I asked softly, watching him. “Does it feel any better?”

He sighed, opening and closing his fingers a few times as if to test how well I'd wound the bandages. “Yeah. It does.” He seemed a bit down though, and he hung his head slightly, studying his knees with his hands in his lap.

“What's wrong Kohaku?” I questioned him, lightly running my fingers along Kirara's cream coloured fur.

“It's just that I wish I could be better at fighting, like you.” My little brother obviously felt I would most likely always be better than him when it came to slaying demons. “Then maybe Father would take more pride in what I do.”

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Kohaku, you're doing fine. Your training is going well, and Father has told me how proud he is of your progress so far. He's not disappointed in you, Kohaku,” I gently told him.

“Really?” He lifted his head and grinned, suddenly gaining back his usual confidence as a butterfly flew past him. He laughed a few times, Kirara leaping on his shoulder and rubbing her face against his, purring lightly. “Wow. I never thought Father was impressed…” He laughed again, sounding a bit embarrassed.

His laughter, though it seemed very distant to me, echoed in my mind, and his face slowly faded away. Miroku was looking at me.

“Sango…”

“I'm alright,” I said, looking away, feeling embarrassed, having lost myself so deep in memories.

He didn't say anything at first, just cupped my cheek with his hand and gently turned my face to his. His thumb wiped away a tear that had started to run down my cheek, and I blushed, even as I knew that he was only trying to comfort me.

“You were starting to cry again,” he said quietly, now rubbing his thumb against my cheek.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…” I started, but he interrupted me, his voice low.

“I know you didn't mean to, but you cannot help it. It is a part of being human that we can show our emotions like this,” he said. “And…” I looked directly at him. Something had flickered in his eyes for a moment, maybe sadness or some distant longing that he was trying to remember, but now his eyes only showed me their usual concern whenever I was feeling upset like this. “And I don't like it… when you cry. It… it makes me feel…” He stopped, apparently thinking he had said too much, but I wanted him to continue.

“It makes you feel what?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. It was at times like these when I had a feeling that he was hiding something, but I had never tried to get him to tell me, and I tried to act like I didn't care.This time, however... this time seemed to be a bit different.

But he shook his head, silently telling me that this would be the end of this conversation, and he shifted back a bit so he was leaning against the wall. “Let's get some sleep, or else Inuyasha will be complaining all day tomorrow that we can't continue the shard hunt because we're too tired.”

I snorted, trying to mask my disappointment at the fact that he ignored my question. “I would never be too tired to do anything that could possibly be an advantage to defeating Naraku.” He smiled faintly at my determination, something he had not seen in me for a long while, his eyes closing. I went over to him and he put an arm around me, quickly falling asleep. It was roughly ten minutes before I fell asleep, and for the first time in many long nights, I had no nightmares about my family. At least Miroku would be there to help me.