InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ To Tell the Truth ❯ Jealousy ( Chapter 1 )

To Tell the Truth

 

An Inu Yasha fanfiction, By Serenanna

 

Part 1 - Jealousy

 

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Inu Yasha or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later after, promise. There is adult content, and sexual situations in this story. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy! I do plan to get overly romantic and dramatic before getting to the good stuff so it's gonna be a long story. If you wanna get right to the goods and not enjoy the ride, please, go find another fic?

 

Story Notes: This story takes place when our intrepid adventurers are still searching for the shards of the Shikon Jewel and battling Naraku, but at no specific time. This story is not meant to mess into the rest of the series, taking place as if it never happened. It is fan-fiction after all. At this point I do not plan any sequels, so please, don't ask?

 

********

 

Why was it that people only expressed one personality when they knew everyone was looking, but were completely different when they thought no one was around? That thought circulated around my head as I watched the interplay of our small group as we traveled down the forested path a few days away from Kaede's village, our semi-home. Shippo was playing with Kilala, running ahead of us but stopping to play now and then while we caught up. Kagome was humming a sweet tune, giggling now and then as the little fox spirit and the cat did something adorably cute. Inu Yasha stood close to her, the scowl permanently affixed to his face while glancing between Shippo and the priestess. And then there was me, Sango, trailing behind with the monk, Miroku, on my right, both of us as quiet as the peaceful forest, save for when he had his hand on my butt . . . again. I could feel him squeeze slightly yet again, the pressure sending off my normal defense against his touches as I turned to slap him for the sixth time today alone.

 

At the sound of the impact, Kagome and Inu Yasha both stopped and turned to look, the half-demon snorting in almost laughter at the monk's folly and Kagome looking at me sympathetically. It was like this day in and day out amongst the five of us and my cat, and yet, I had to wonder how much longer this could go on. It was almost a child-like innocence that pervaded our journey up until this point, the moments of darkness being the battles with Naraku, his minions, Inu Yasha's brother Sessomaru, and whatever demons were after the jewel shards for their own. If any of my new-found friends ever acted like adults, I think I would have died of shock. The worst of all thought was the monk. Miroku almost sighed as he looked at me, rubbing the fresh red spot on his cheek. He should know better by now. Each unwelcome, perverted touch of his hand was going to get him another slap. I turned and started to walk again a pace or two in front on him, not caring how much of a view he had of me so long as I didn't have him touching me again. Shippo and Kilala were obviously tired as they ran back to us, the cat jumping into my arms as the fox spirit did the same to Kagome. He yawned in the girl's arms, fluffing his tail before curling up for a nap. “Are we going to stop soon?” Shippo asked, loud enough for all of us to hear it, “I'm tired, and hungry.”

 

“Keh, you should have eaten more than when we stopped at midday,” Inu Yasha growled, obviously annoyed with the little spirit, “It's not even close to sunset yet.”

 

“But I'm hungry now, and Kagome makes the best food, besides, it always takes you forever to find a spot to rest,” He said as he curled around the priestess's shoulder, his claw grabbing the fabric of her uniform as she called it. As much as I would have liked to be back in the village by now, Shippo did have a point. It always took us too much time anymore to find a spot since Kagome and Inu Yasha would argue about it to no end before Kagome would invoke the subduing spell and that would be the end of it. Why in the world those two fought so much, and why Inu Yasha seemed to purposefully provoke the priestess was beyond me. I had no more insight into their lives than any other observer even if I had my hunches. Kagome cradled the fox spirit in her arms, almost looking like his mother as she turned to the half-demon, her expression thoughtful, “He is right, it's getting late and we're still a distance away, we should rest for the day, and be back tomorrow.”

 

Inu Yasha growled, looking at her threateningly as he yelled, “You always side with him! He's nothing but a spoiled brat from you babying him so much!”

 

“Inu Yasha! I'm too tired myself to argue right now! Now go find a camp site!” Kagome shot back, visibly forming the word `sit' with her lips as her deep blue eyes bore into him. The half-dog demon must have though she would make good on her threat as he flinched and relaxed, thinking about it for a few seconds before he gave a disgruntled snort, turned on heel, and stomped off into the woods. I could barely hear him as he grumbled to probably no one but himself, “You're not worth . . .”

 

Kagome must as heard him as I saw her fist tighten, her knuckles white, and yet the anger she must have been feeling evaporated as she gave an anguished sigh with a shake of her head. Shouldering her heavy pack violently, the priestess followed him through the brush while carrying Shippo, her unhappiness clear in her frown. I tried by to let my eyebrows furrow, but couldn't help it. It never ended between those two, or at least if they did stop fighting, it was never in our presence. It would make me think that something was going on between the two of them, but I was only speculating to myself. Knowing that the rate those two went, we'd have finished off Naraku and they would still be fighting about everything else. I let out a sigh, almost unaware of the same sound coming from Miroku.

 

I glanced at the monk, noticing a pained expression crossing his face as he leaned on his staff. “Is something wrong, Miroku?” I asked not seeing him react like that often except when he was rejected yet again.

 

“I should ask you the same thing, you sighed too,” he retorted, glancing off into the woods at our companions. He must have been thinking nearly the same thing as me as we watched them go. “It makes you wish you could do something about them doesn't it?” He asked, looking genuinely concerned as he turned towards me.

 

I looked down, shuffling my feet on the ground as I thought before talking after a good few moments of carefully forming my response, “Yes, I wish there was something we could do, but still, trying to get them to stop fighting is like trying to get you to stop groping me.”

 

Miroku winced, my barb hitting home as I looked at him with a smirk. Well, it was the truth, and he obvious knew it as he tried not to grin, “Sango, that hurt, really, I thought you'd be more delicate with this sensitive matter.”

 

“Delicate? Sensitive? I don't know how you can use those word, they fight, a lot if you haven't noticed, and it would be appreciated if they stopped, but there's nothing we can do,” I said, wanting to throw up my hands but couldn't, not without making myself seem foolish and almost as bad as Kagome in her emotions. Miroku chuckled as I felt a frown tug on my lips. Whatever did he think was so funny? “Would you terribly mind telling me what you're trying to get at?” I asked, trying not to make a face all too similar to Inu Yasha's normal scowl.

 

“Haven't you noticed how they fight? How they look at each other? Stolen glances followed by meaningless barbs?” He said turning to gaze to the two of them as they started to disappear into the woods, “They both like it other, and they just don't want to admit it to the other person . . .”

 

I could have sworn I heard a wistful edge on Miroku's voice as he spoke, but I must have been dreaming. The only thing the monk was ever wistful over was another prospect of a woman. I had to think about what he said though, trying to recall their behavior. Kagome and Inu Yasha had been stand-offish with each other for a few months every since that one time Kagome went home without ever telling us. As I was thinking about earlier, their fights had become more trivial and not terribly important, over food or camping instead of the hunt for the Shikon jewel shards. The only serious matters that they fought over were Kagome's protection, her knack to put herself in sticky situations, and also over when she could go home. There was tension between them. I could feel it from the both of them, but over what and why I didn't know. I blinked, the pieces fitting together, “You mean they're fighting to cover their emotions?”

 

“It's not surprising given Inu Yasha's attitude and history, look what happened to the last woman he opened up to?” Miroku said as he started off into the woods, keeping a distant between the two quarrelers and the both of us. He referred to Kikiyo, the undead priestess who seemed to haunt the half-demon's life always. “It always comes back to her doesn't it?” I sighed, a slight melancholy on my voice.

 

“Yeah . . . I can almost see his feelings in how he tries to protect Kagome, but I'm not entirely sure of his reasons for it, if he really does love her or if he only sees Kikiyo in her, I think Inu Yasha himself doesn't realize what he is doing or how he feels,” the monk said as he jumped over a fallen tree before stopping and turning to me, “She has confided anything to you about him?”

 

“Miroku! How can you ask such a thing?! . . . If she did, I probably wouldn't tell you just because you asked,” I grumbled at him, following him over the log. He frowned, “I take that as no then?”

 

I didn't say anything, my silence enough of an answer as he sighed, “I only asked because I have been brewing over this matter for months, ever since their petty arguments became a daily rite between them, I want a solution as much as you do and thought you might have some insight into Kagome's thoughts . . . I don't like watching what Inu Yasha is doing to Kagome, even if he doesn't know it, their tension has been getting to me, and I'm sure it has been getting to you.”

 

I bit my lips at his words, knowing he spoke the truth, but feeling helpless at the same time. “I'm sorry, Miroku, I know nothing that could help outside of womanly advice, and even then, Kagome is not a woman of this time, she acts differently sometimes than other women, I cannot guess too well what she might be feeling, especially about Inu Yasha,” I said as the monk got a funny look on his face, the wheels visibly turning in his head as he looked at me.

 

It would have been unnerving having him staring at me if his expression wasn't kind of cute. It was as if something the dawning on him, the thought alone light up all the features on his face. I brushed that thought aside as quickly as it had come, not wanting to think of that letch as anything remotely cute. And yet, the more pleased he looked, the interested I got. “That's an insane idea . . . but it might work, totally improbable but not impossible, it just might work,” Miroku started, not looking at me longer while muttering to himself as my eyebrows knitted together.

 

“What idea?” I asked, perplexed as Miroku looked back at me, almost giddy. I blinked, almost scared. What in the nine hells was he thinking about? He looked at Kagome, Inu Yasha, and Shippo as they retreated further away from us, Kilala the only one here besides myself and the monk as she lay curled up in my arms. “Miroku? What is it?” I asked again, getting more concerned.

 

“Promise to listen to me before decide to hit me or anything?” He asked a little too quickly and coincidentally for my liking. But . . . if I was ever going to listen to what he had to say . . . “Alright, fine, I promise.”

 

Before I could say anything else, Miroku's hand was grabbing mine, almost reverently as he smiled somewhat eagerly, “Sango, I need you to fall in love with me.”

 

I shouldn't have made that promise. My skin shuddered at Miroku's touch, and not from what he had hoped for. Sensing my disgust, Kilala jumped out of my arms to bite the monk's hand, the surprise and pain sending him reeling while the fire-cat transformed into her full size and planted herself between us. I glared at him, wishing I had bitten him myself instead of the cat. He was sprawled on the ground, fallen over another log as he looked at me disappointed, “You promised . . .”

 

“That was the cat not me, now talk,” I demanded, my hand going for my weapon while clutching my kimono, “Before I go back on my word, and I swear to all the gods that if this is one of your tricks, I'll knock you all the way to Shangri-la and back.”

 

“I knew you'd over-react . . .” he started before seeing my serious expression harden and my grip on my weapon tighten, “I wasn't kidding, Sango, I'm proposing to get those impossible two to fall for each other by giving them something they haven't seen.”

 

“What would that be, two people being civil to one another?” I bit back sarcastically as Miroku cringed. While we got along well enough, he still had his tendencies to feel me up and I had my tendency to hit him for it, neither of which was nice to one another. But then again neither were Inu Yasha and Kagome's arguments. The monk frowned more at me then started to get up, “That might be part of it . . . but more than that.”

 

He pushed up with his staff from the ground, leaning on it as his lips pursed in thought before he continued, “I'm proposing that we give them two troubled people that have over come their differences to fall in love and are happy.”

 

“And how is that going to help? The only thing I see is you getting free reign to put your grubby hands on me,” I grumbled even if the grip on my weapon loosened. I knew some of what he was getting at, but wasn't about to admit it to myself and I wasn't about to let go of my anger either. Part of me liked being angry with him. It was a familiar feeling, not as severe as my hatred of Naraku, and . . . it felt better than being sad with the loss of my family. Feeling anything was better than feeling like that, even if he perhaps didn't deserve it. “Neither of us alone as we are currently seem understanding enough to talk to, I'm sure you've notice since Kagome isn't talking to you about her problems, all four of us have our own problems and issues, some more so than others . . . it doesn't make for pleasant conversation or travel companions . . . ,” Miroku said as he looked down, going silent.

 

It was disconcerting to see him like that, introspective and thoughtful rather than his normal self-absorbed ego. I would have thought him acting till I noticed his gaze was on his wrapped hand, the worry beads being fiddles nervously between his fingers. Could he have been referring to his own looming problem? Like Inu Yasha's heritage, Miroku's curse was glaring obvious, a trait common between the two of them. And yet, according to the monk's admission the two of them were not on speaking terms. Kagome and I were no better. We were friends, sure, but neither of us talked about our feelings openly as much as true friends would.

 

After losing Kohaku, my father, my village, it was hard to get attached to anyone, even now, maybe three months or so since I had started traveling with them. The cloud of impending doom of Naraku grew each day, leaving me wondering if each battle, each meal, would be our last. I let me hand slip from my weapon, looking down at ground. Kilala must have heard it as she turned to look at me inquisitively before turning back into her smaller size. She pawed at the hem of my kimono, mewling softly to get my attention. I sighed softly and bent to reassuringly pet her on the head before speaking, “I know what you are saying Miroku, but why love? Why not just friendship? It is hard enough for us to get along, wouldn't such a strong emotion as that be pushing it?”

 

“Perhaps, but by us being in love, it might bring it up between the two of them in private conversations, people talk about love more when they know other people are in love, and as close as we travel, it's bound to come up sooner or later,” Miroku said while grinning, lightening up somewhat as he looked back at me. I smirked, not quite buying yet what he expected from this experiment. He was making it sound that he wanted Inu Yasha and Kagome to fall in love themselves, and not just stop fighting. He also wasn't listening too well, “You forgot what I had asked, monk.”

 

He blinked, “About what?”

 

I huffed, resisting the urge to cross my arms, “Do you honestly think that for one second that they would believe us going from me slapping you one day to being deeply in love the next?”

 

“You may have a point about that one . . .” he muttered softly as if wondering out loud to no one but himself. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I knew this wasn't going to work. Miroku saw my hopeless expression and tried to wave it off, “Now, now, Sango, I didn't say that at this point and time we had to be madly and deeply in love, perhaps it'll be more believable if we acted out our love blooming over time.”

 

“How about we try friendship for now before you push your luck with me too much today?” I said, getting rather annoyed the more he used that four letter word. He must have gotten the hint in my tone of voice, “Right . . . so how should we go about this?”

 

The dark-haired monk had moved closer to me as he spoke, standing barely a foot away from me. I normally would have been shuddering from his proximity, but didn't, fighting that feeling down into the pit of my stomach. I was going to have to get used to it for this to work, wait . . . “Since when did I agree to this plan anyway?”

 

“Since you asked about turning our act to friendship for now instead of love,” He grinned wide, rather pleased with himself. Damn, I guess he had picked up on my acceptance after all. “Alright, but we'll start with one ground rule, no more groping, of myself or any other woman,” I said with a small grin, “any offending touches will render our accord null and void, understood?”

 

Miroku froze a few moments, silent as he thought it over before muttering a soft, “Fine.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, yes, I will handle it,” he mumbled further, obviously not happy about this. On the other hand, I was greatly pleased and relieved, not having to worry about his wandering fingers ever again. “Why, Miroku, I never knew you had such control over your impulses, it is an endearing trait,” I grinned at him, the sarcasm carrying in my voice as he groaned.

 

“Why, Sango, I never knew you cared,” he shot back, smirking slightly with a twist of his lips. I snorted in laughter, not minding his retort at all. But, as amusing as this was, we were getting away from the topic, “This also means you can't go off trying to propose children to any woman that would have you.”

 

The monk frowned, “I do have my standards you know.”

 

“I know, as lax as they maybe anymore, but I don't think that it is a practice you could continue if you were serious about a relationship,” I said, my tone turning serious. It took a few moments to visibly sink into him, his sour expression melting away into seriousness as well. He nodded while motioning me to continue. I smiled somewhat, appreciating that he didn't fight about it, “And also, you've really have to work on your approach too . . . “

 

Miroku chuckled, burying his face in his free hand, “Can't I do anything right?”

 

“No, at least not when women are concerned,” with a grin, I moved away from him and starting following after the others with both Kilala and Miroku on my heels, “You have many preconceived notions on how women should act and react when it comes to love and such, if we're going to make it believable that I could fall for you, you'll have to learn better in respecting women.”

 

The dark-haired man huffed, “You're not so perfect yourself, you know, you do have a tendency towards violence.”

 

“It is my occupation normally, remember.”

 

“I meant towards me,” he grumbled as I giggled. How simple it was of the monk to think that my violence towards him was because of my own tendencies. “I only hit you because you touch me inappropriately,” I explained to him, “Once you stop, I'll stop.”

 

His footsteps stopped so I turned to look at him as he blinked at me, “Is that all?”

 

My eyebrow arched in the monk's direction, “Why else would I hit you except to protect my dignity?”

 

“Well . . .” Miroku started before lowering his voice, “I thought it was because you just didn't like me . . . or maybe liked me too much.”

 

I would have smiled at the first part of his answer, but the second? Did he think I was crazy or something? It didn't matter what he thought now that I could tell him the truth, “Quite frankly, Miroku, I do dislike you,” I started without hesitation over my words, “Mostly because you do act like a disgusting lecher, but since your behavior will be changing perhaps I can grow to respect you and maybe we can even be friends without the acting.”

 

“I guess that's not so bad . . .” the monk mumbled under his breath as if musing to himself, “But really, it's that simple? And what about when we do start acting . . .well, closer? Are you still going to hit me?”

 

“Well, we're not there yet, but . . . I guess I could tolerate holding your hand and hugs, but don't hope for much beyond that,” I blurted out the last part far too quickly for my own liking. Why had I just done that? Something about this topic was making me uncomfortable. “Um, Miroku? How will we know if it worked?” I asked, changing the topic as I started to walk again.

 

“Good question . . .” he muttered, pondering for a few silent moments before he said hesitantly, “I suppose it'll start with them maybe asking us for advice, but beyond that . . .”

 

The monk shrugged at me. It figured. He didn't know either. We were about to daring try to bring together two of the most irreconcilable people we knew, with no clue if it would work, or if they even wanted it to work, with the most inane plan I had ever heard of. I looked at Miroku as he moved to stand next to me, smiling somewhat. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, “So . . . where do we start?”

 

********

 

Inu Yasha

 

Curse that woman! She always listened to the brat and not me! Why she liked this crummy camping spot was beyond me. It was far too open for my liking, a clear shot overhead if some demon was flying overhead. But she and Shippo wanted to look at the stars. I tried not the snort in derision, playing instead with the plate of cooked meat that Kagome had made from the rabbits I hunted up. Kagome was setting up her sleeping mat near the tree I was perched in then pulled out some books from her pack, reading in the dim firelight. Shippo was already curled up beside her with Kilala, rapidly falling into a deep sleep. She was such a problem sometimes even if she was useful, and she was so different from other women, so . . . opinionated, which would be putting it lightly. Was that normal for women of her time? And she was so stubborn too, getting in my way during fights, putting herself in danger, doing the stupidest things just because she wanted too. Kagome would have been dead a long time ago if I didn't keep protecting her, and she still hasn't learned to get out of my way. But . . . she did have her moments, for a woman of course. Those moments weren't worth thinking about though, and they were few and far between. In the time that I'd known Kagome, she had been a nuisance until only recently as she started to get used to life on the road and in the feudal era.

 

Across the grove, the monk and the hunter were, weirdly enough, sitting on a fallen log next to each other appearing to be in a civil conversation. The thoughts of Kagome evaporating, I blinked then stared at them, the line of tree branches covering me from their sight, not that they would notice as they were too busy noticing each other. What in the world were they up to? Whatever it was, it couldn't last long, not with Miroku involved. I waited, counting the moments in my head, knowing that the monk would screw up eventually. It never failed. Every fifteen minutes, he had to touch a female. And yet . . .

 

It didn't happen. I had stared at them as they talked for over an hour, the night growing darker, and nothing happened, well, except the monk telling one funny story that had the usually rough demon huntress giggling like a girl half her age. Kagome had gone to sleep finally, pulling the top of her bedroll up and facing away from them with the fox spirit curled up under her arm like some doll. I tried not to think about that conniving little demon for once, looking back up to see Sango touched Miroku's hand, willingly.

 

My jaw dropped. Both of them seemed a little shocked at the touch till she removed her hand, a demure smile crossing her lips I'd never known Sango to have before as the monk tried not to grin. He wasn't trying that hard, honestly. Moment's later, Sango stood up, nodding politely to Miroku with a smile still plastered on her lips. The more she smiled, the more different she looked, so . . . not serious and sad. They exchanged a few more words of good night and such before they moved off towards their beds, the young woman making a quick glance back at the monk's retreating figure with a look on her face that made me more puzzled than I was already.

 

As soon as they were both snoring, the shock finally wore off my face. I shook my head vigorously, silver hair flying at I tried to clean the past ten minutes or so from my mind. It . . . didn't seem right, really didn't seem right. That lecherous monk and Sango? The thought alone made me shudder. What in the hell just happened between them? Was this the first time they decided to talk? Was I just noticing? Naw, I wasn't that blind . . . was I? Why were they talking about nothing anyway? Usually they never said anything to one another outside of the topics of Naraku or Miroku's wandering hands. Speaking of which, how in the world did the monk finally keep his hands to himself? Sango must have done something to him to keep him from feeling her up, there was no other way to explain it . . .

 

I growled, not wrapping my head around the idea that those two were finally friends. Were they friends now? It had to be. If they were more than friends then hell had frozen over. But . . . the look on Sango's face when the monk went to bed wasn't a look a woman gave to a man who was just a friend. I didn't want to think about it, but it reminded me of a woman I knew a long time ago. I shuddered again. That was enough thinking for one night, especially if it brought up the memory of Kikiyo. Ever since Kagome had awoken me from the tree, she haunted me, be it in the form of the walking grave-soil doll or in my dreams. I didn't know what to think any more when it came to the ex-priestess. Part of me still loved her, always would love her, but . . . the way she had acted towards Kagome . . . ever since she had threatened the girl I didn't know her anymore. I didn't know if I wanted to know her anymore, but she's been suckering me back in. The why's of it all eluded me, about Kikiyo, about Kagome, about Naraku, about everything. I curled my arms over one of the higher up branches, using the leaves as a pillow as I watched the campfire dwindle slowly. It was too much to try to think about in one night, the answers would come eventually. I was sure of it.

 

*******

 

Inu Yasha Still

 

The days had been growing weirder since we got back to the village, specifically between the monk and the demon huntress. I was fairly certain they'd both gone over the deep end, but they seemed sane enough. Miroku had touched another woman in days, nearly a week now, and it was getting to me. Ever since he decided to stop being a lecher, Sango had warmed up to him significantly, smiling more often around him than in the past months, and not half as serious as she normally was. Even Kagome was becoming friendly to Miroku, which was started to piss me off even more. The thought of that pervert breaking his newfound goodness and touching Kagome made images of pounding him into a very large and hard rock dance before my eyes. And it felt good. I wouldn't have thought it weird if it didn't feel good. I had always been protective of Kagome, but why I was suddenly becoming protective of her virtue had me more confused than I was originally. I didn't even like her that much. Whatever was happening amongst our little group, I had to get to the bottom of it fast before something else weird happened.

 

We were traveling out again after two days of restocking and resting in the village. Kagome had taken a small overnight trip home, but I didn't like it. What if something happened while she was gone? What if there was another shard near by, and we missed it? The girl's double life was starting to become annoying as the number of shards dwindled. At least this time she came back quickly, not taking her sweet time and forcing me to retrieve her. We were about two days out of the village heading north after hearing about another demon in a village a week away. We'd cut down some of the time using Kilala to take Miroku and Sango while I carried Kagome and Shippo, but it wasn't and easy path. We'd settled for the night near the base of a mountain on which the village was carved into. I wouldn't be an easy hike tomorrow, so we stopped early, around midday.

 

Grumbling, I'd gone to scrounge up dinner while Miroku went for fire wood, Sango for nuts and fruit, and the others set up camp. I didn't understand why I was always the one doing the hunting? Ok, so I was good at it, well, alright, really good at it, but still, couldn't someone else even try? It didn't make a difference though as I rounded up a small boar to roast tonight, hauling the carcass back to camp over my shoulder. I was passing through the trees near a field when I heard a feminine giggle, the sound nearly making me lose my footing as I landed on the branch. Who the hell was that?! I blinked and jumped down off the tree, looking to find the direction of the noise, then I heard it again, a distinct pearl of laughter that was too pleasant to be malicious. Some girl was very happy, and I only knew of two. It could have been Kagome playing with Shippo, but that giggle was too rich to be from playing with a kid. If it was Miroku with Kagome, I'd kill him. I jumped up into the branches again, following the sound towards the field then stopped as I hid for cover, staring.

 

The grass field was mixed with wildflowers, and in the middle of it were two figures, one in a distinctive pink kimono and the other in dark blue robes. My jaw dropped as I watched them. I couldn't believe it. If the past week or so was weird, this was surreal. The two of them were rolling around in the grass and flowers like they were . . . like they were in love . . . That thought shot through my head as I noticed the flower chain decorating Sango's hair as she landed on her back, Miroku on top of her, laughing loud enough that they could be heard a mile away. Both of them suddenly went very still and silent, looking at each other intently as my eyes widened. They weren't going to . . . were they? But that was answered for me as the monk leaned down close over Sango, kissing her. My ears burned as I heard her murmur softly into Miroku's mouth. That was it. I couldn't watch anymore as I took off, the image and sound burning itself into my mind. How little I knew on how much that one kiss would change things.

 

*********

 

Sango

 

I lay rooted under Miroku, barely hearing the rustle of leaves that sounded too definite to be anyone but the half-demon flight though the trees. “Is he gone?” I asked in a whisper, the monk laying on top of me still.

 

He slowly got up, grinning from ear to ear. I probably would have been grinning too if he hadn't actually kissed me. As he was off of me, I shot up and slugged him hard against the chest, wiping the grin off his face as he lay sprawling on the ground. Served him right. I rubbed his taste off of my mouth, looking at him very offended. He had no right to do that . . . at least without warning me first. “Don't ever do that again!” I said softly but forcefully, keeping my voice low so that if Inu Yasha was still near-by he would hear us too well.

 

Miroku's now-reddened lips curled into a knowing and pleased smirk that made me blush profusely. I never should have made this bargain with him. I didn't know what to think about the monk anymore since his antics with other women had ceased and focused his actions on me, each of our encounters becoming more real in my mind if not his as well. The boundaries between acting and real emotion started to blur a few days ago when I caught myself staring at Miroku without Inu Yasha or Kagome around. And when he hugged me from behind in front of them a day ago, and without warning me again, I turned bright red, holding a smile to my face before we were out of view then hit him just like I had moments ago. It felt good, and then he smirked like that again and I felt like he had seen right through me. I stormed off before he could say anything, trying to clear my head, but it didn't work. After it happened, I felt that I must have been going insane to think like that about him, but then he'd smile at me and it wouldn't feel so crazy after all.

 

It was the same look on his face now from a few days ago that made my knees turn to porridge. I hated myself for feeling like this, turning that anger at myself towards anger at him, the fire in my eyes not cooling down. I had to be stronger than this, steeling up my nerve against the emotions as Miroku stood up, and bowed towards me with a gracefulness he'd only recently display. “Yes, my lady,” He said in such a way that my insides quivered and my defenses broke, angered but captivated at the same time.

 

How dare he do this to me! And to still be so civil about it! With those words, he walked off with a small pile of firewood, leaving me sitting in the tall grass, flowers still stuck in my hair thanks to him. Sighing in exasperation once he was gone, I flung myself down to lie on my back, staring up at the clouds as I tried to think. Maybe this was part of his greater plan. Maybe getting the half-demon and the girl to fall for each other was just a consolation prize to him trying to break me. I would not fall that easily, never. But . . . to a part of me, it was tempting. I cringed though as my thoughts turned again. What if he did think this was all an act still? If he thought I felt nothing for him, and he felt nothing for me? What if he was just using my heart to get me in his bed? No, I'd never fall for it. I'd never fall for him.

 

I sat up again, pulling the flowers from my hair and cleaning off my kimono, a sour expression on my face as I looked at the trail he'd cut through the field. I was now determined to get to the heart of the matter between Miroku and I after Kagome and InuYasha resolved their problems. If he did truly love me then perhaps there might be hope. But if he was using me for his own pleasure and quest for an heir, I'd make sure that he's never, ever, fulfill that goal. I picked up the basket of things I'd gathered, stalking off not only to get more before I headed back to camp but also to calm down before I faced anyone else.

 

********

 

Kagome

 

Where do I start when it comes to Inu Yasha? He was . . . difficult. Perhaps that was putting it mildly. The first time I met the half-demon after freeing him, I couldn't stand him. He was arrogant, pushy, harsh, disrespectful, selfish, insensitive, well, he was an asshole, a complete asshole. For a while, I thought he was the worst the male sex had to offer a woman. I could not see what Kikiyo had ever seen in him that she's willingly sacrifice her position as a high priestess for him . . . even if he was cute to look at. But then . . . I started to slowly see what that dead woman had fallen for, how underneath all his bull-shit he was a genuinely good, if confused, man. When he didn't yell, scowl, or curse, he was pleasant enough, and not as foul or insensitive as he led others to believe. And surprising still, Inu Yasha became a different person when he embraced that dead spirit of Kikiyo. He became a love-struck, loyal puppy instead of the beaten but still angry mutt that he whole world thought he was, and to think that he was only like that for her, a corpse.

 

I didn't know what chilled me more, the fact that he loved a corpse, or that he had loved a woman that was so different than me more, even if we were suppose to be of the same spirit. I felt . . . defeated, even before I had a chance to fall for him. Before I knew about Kikiyo, I had entertained a small thought that I could grow to like Inu Yasha more than as a friend, and now? That idea was all but dead. I had learned to deal with just being another woman to Inu Yasha, his tool to finding the shards, a companion on this journey, and nothing more. I didn't like it, but I didn't have a choice. Just being near him was enough for now, I guessed.

 

I had been thinking about him again as I set out my sleeping bag. Shippo and Kilala had gone off to play after digging a small pit for the fire and lining it with stones, leaving me alone. I laid down on my stomach on top of the bedroll, a set of books and notebooks laid out before me, when Inu Yasha came through the tree and plopped down in front of me. He tossed the carcass of a pig onto the ground as I didn't look up, reading a passage on ionic compounds for chemistry class. He always did interrupt me when I was supposed to be studying. “Pork for dinner?” I asked, tapping my food on the ground lazily.

 

“Yes . . .” He said, an edge of agitation on his voice as I could feel his eyes burning while looking at me. It felt weird that he's be staring at me, suddenly feeling very unprotected around him without the others here. I looked up slowly, an eyebrow quirked at him. He looked upset about something, his brow knitted together as if he was thinking too hard, but there was something in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. He never looked at me like that before, or anyone else, not even Kikiyo. What had gotten into him? “Are you alright?” I asked, a little worried, but not by much since he was usually peeved about something.

 

“It's none of your business about me!” he snapped so quickly I flinched, the look in his eyes evaporating, “Cook dinner and don't ask any questions . . . I'm going to scout the area some more, I'll be back later.”

 

And just like that he was off again, climbing into the trees and taking off as I blinked, dumbfounded. What in the world had gotten into him? I was just about ready to snap at him for his words too, working up a good huff that was now dissolved into confusion. I was never going to understand him, never. I looked down at my books again, going back to study.

 

**********

 

Inu Yasha

 

What the hell was wrong with me? I stopped in a tree halfway between the field and the campsite, growling to myself. Why had I looked at Kagome like that? Why did I snap at her when she caught me? That kiss between Sango and Miroku had unnerved me. It had always seemed impossible for those two to form anything but an uncomfortable friendship, but . . . love? Whatever had infected those two was beginning to infect me, and I hated it. I had never noticed her before as she studied, flipping through her books, that short skirt of hers riding up. Damnit! I pounded the tree, knocking a branch loose that tumbled below me. I didn't want to think like that, not about Kagome. I would not give in to it. It was Kikiyo I was supposed to care about and repent for, not her. Besides . . . Kagome felt nothing for me. I was probably lucky that she tolerated me and my temper. Lightening doesn't strike twice, not when it came to love. I'd screwed up once already, fate would not bless me with another chance. I jumped down from the tree, starting to stalk off with my head hung low. I was about ten feet away when I looked up to see a familiar dark blue clad figure heading back to the camp. Keh, looked like someone was just as pissed and confused as I was.

 

Miroku looked as if he had gotten hit in the stomach, on his face at least. I jumped up in the tree a few feet away from him, knowing that he'd look up from the sound. He did, not looking happy to see me before he kept moving on. “What's the matter?” I called out to him, “She get tired of you?”

 

The monk flinched at my words, turning around towards me with a sour expression that turned suspicious and then amused, “Why, Inu Yasha, I was just getting firewood, what ever gave you the idea that there was something between Sango and I? You weren't spying were you?”

 

Caught! Miroku snickered, probably at my shocked expression. Still fuming from earlier, I snapped back at him, “Fine, no sense in hiding it, I did catch you both, so do you admit it then?”

 

“Sango left to go finish gathering some things for our meal, if I'm depressed it is because she is not with me,” Miroku said with such conviction that it felt like a slap across the face. I growled lowly, beginning to hate the monk's new found goodness. What god made him so high and mighty suddenly? “What the fuck did you do to her to make her like you so suddenly?” I asked, not holding back the vicious, jealous edge on my voice, “Or should I ask what she did you to you to make you stop being such a pervert?”

 

The dark-haired man went red in the face, dropping the firewood. He struck at the branch I was standing on with his staff as I had hit a nerve. I leaped out of the way, climbing higher in the tree. That felt good. He was probably more pissed that I brought Sango's virtue into question more than his own. If he did care for her, he would always defend her honor, and he did. I knew it. He was in love with her. I grinned as the monk huffed, sinking down into the dirt, “Why, Inu Yasha, do you make this into seeming like it's a bad thing? Ok, I admit it, I finally have settled down and fallen for Sango, is that so hard to believe?”

 

Yes, it was downright impossible to believe. I looked at him, eye brows lowered as he took the hint. Something akin to satisfaction crossed his dark eyes, “I don't know how it happened myself, entirely, but it has happened, I guess it started when we were just talking about five days ago, after she hit me last, and we came to an agreement, and . . .”

 

“And what? You just decided to be a better person? I find that hard to swallow,” I grumbled at him. Miroku took that comment in stride with a small smile on his face. He stood back up and brushed the dirt from his robe, leaning on his staff, “For the love of a woman, wouldn't you do just about anything?”

 

I blinked at him, not quite believing that I heard that from him. Damn . . . Damnit! I hated the fact that he was right, but also hated that he had discovered that truth while my mistake in love still haunted me. I was jealous of him and whatever he shared with Sango, the emotion crossing my face. His eyes softened with pity, and I wanted to kill him as I growled. “Why are you so spiteful that I'm happy finally? You have Kagome after all . . .” He said as I balked.

 

“What has Sango been giving you? Bad mushrooms? Kagome? And me? Are you insane?” I yelled at him, the reply coming too quickly for my own liking. Why was I getting defensive? It was just Kagome he asked about. “She means nothing to me but a way to get the shards and defeat Naraku,” I said coldly, knowing I was lying in some part of that.

 

Miroku's face hardened, his eyes staring at me as if he could peer the truth out of me. I held my ground under his gaze, adamantly defending what I had said even if it ate at me. Why should he care what Kagome meant to me? And why did it matter that I wanted to feel nothing for her? The image of Kagome studying again, her skirt rising higher, flashed before my eye, and I knew why I wanted her to mean nothing to me. It was easier to feel nothing than to feel something and being able to do nothing about it. I looked away from the monk, breaking his gaze. Damn him . . . Why was he doing this to me? “I knew you cared for her at least a little,” Miroku said as he grinned, but then he sighed, shaking his head as he turned away, “It's a shame that she doesn't know that.”

 

“Keh, what do you know about it, monk?” I said with a huff, suddenly grumpy that he had stated the obvious, “That woman has no interest in anything but her family, her studies, her own time, and the shards, in that order.”

 

“How do you know? You've barely said anything to her outside of arguments or discussions on Naraku and the shards,” Miroku said as I opened my mouth to interrupt till he cut me off, “I was like that till Sango finally started to talk to me, and now look what has happened, I'm sure you can come up with something to talk to her about, you've charmed one woman in your life time already.”

 

I don't know if he really meant it to be painful or not, but I took the cut as a deep wound, staring at him coldly, “Fuck off, monk, it's none of your god-damned business so stay the fuck out of my relationships, and keep your fucking fingers off of Kagome or I'll shove your head up your ass and pull it through your mouth, then we'll see how well you can sweet talk Sango.”

 

I jumped off the branch and moved off, not wanting to talk to anyone any more about anything.

 

**********

 

Kagome

 

It was about sunset when everyone finally came back to camp, Miroku first with the firewood, then Sango is a basket full of fruits to mix with the pork. Shippo and Kilala came back next once the food was ready, both of them appearing tired from playing the day away. Dinner was close to being overcooked when Inu Yasha finally showed up, appearing agitated as much as I saw him earlier. He didn't say a word, grabbing a plate of food and taking up guard in the tree above me as he ate. I decided not to push it, reaching for my own food. Sango and Miroku were just as dour. They had been talking to each other quite friendly the past couple days, almost flirting with one another. I hadn't minded it. In fact, it was a welcomed change from silence between them, but . . . as of that night, they had stopped. After eating, everyone dropped off to sleep except myself and Inu Yasha. I knew he wouldn't sleep till I was down for the night. I didn't know why he did it, just that he did. I had cracked open the books, trying to at least concentrate a little on the chemistry test I knew was coming when I got back to take it, but I couldn't.

 

I'd been staring at the book for an hour or so, and was remembering none of it from one page to another. Shippo had chosen a spot closer to the fire to sleep at tonight, curled up in Kilala's tail as the fire cat watched the night along with Inu Yasha. I closed the book, and laid down on top of the bag, pressing my head against the cover while groaning. I was never going to understand this stuff. I saw a flash of silver when I turned my head, and looked up to see Inu Yasha standing over me, crouching down. His golden eyes were curious if a little concerned, “You ok? You sound like you're in pain . . .”

 

“If I'm in pain, it's my head that hurts,” I said, covering my eyes with my hands, “I'm never going to really understand this stuff on my own, let alone learn enough of it to pass the entrance exams.”

 

“Is it . . . that important to you?” The half-demon asked, surprisingly serious about it as he sat down on the dirt. He didn't look as angry as he normally was or as annoyed, but some part of him must have been confused and aggravated about something. His eyebrows were crinkled together like he was thinking about something as hard as I was. But . . . this questioning was uncharacteristic of him. “Well . . .” I started to say, thinking about my answer, “I guess, on some level, it is important to me, or at least it was important, I . . . don't know anymore, the longer this journey takes, the less it seems relevant anymore, but I keep studying I guess to have some sense of my normal life . . .”

 

Inu Yasha nodded, moving back a little away from me. I looked up at him and he looked back at me intently, the reflection in his golden eyes wavering with some form of emotion. I couldn't tell what it was, but then his eyes widened and I knew it was fear. Inu Yasha turned away, and then, with a slight hesitation, he was up in the tree again. The leaves rustled for a little while and I saw him no more that night. That was weird of him. I can't believe he looked at me like that. And he never asked about my studying before, or talked really. What was changing with him? I closed the book, put it in my pack, and then dove into my sleeping bag. I didn't want to think about it. Whatever Inu Yasha did, I had learned was his own business and it wasn't about to change. Besides . . . he never thought about me anyway, that was about the only thing that would never change either.

 

**********

 

Sango

 

The following morning was uncomfortable for just about everyone except Kilala, Shippo, and Kagome, completely innocent of the whole affair for now at least. Once we were on the trail that morning, Miroku pulled me aside and actually apologized for the kiss. I thought I was going to faint. I'd never heard his so sincere, but he could have been lying just to keep up with whatever side charade he had going on with me. Whatever conflict we had between us didn't matter. What was important was the plan, and I had noticed its effects on Inu Yasha already. All through breakfast the half-demon acted subdued, for once keeping his mouth blessedly shut. The only time he seemed to anger was when he shot me a look when he caught me staring. I didn't want to look anymore after that. If he was happy being quiet, then so be it. Shippo seemed to notice the change in him too, and decided that a serious Inu Yasha was not someone to mess with as he avoided the older man. Kagome didn't question his silence either, but I could see that she was curious about it as much has I was, stealing glances at him as they hiked up the mountain trail ahead of us.

 

Miroku had told me what has happened between them, but I didn't think it would affect him that much. Maybe the monk's crazy idea could work after all.

 

**********

 

Kagome

 

The trip to the village was peaceful enough thanks to Inu-Yasha's silence. I don't know what had gotten into him after the night at the base of the mountain, but the only times I ever knew him to be this serious and non-abrasive was when he was with Kikiyo. As much as that thought pained me, it was true. And yet for some reason he continued to be . . . normal, or at least as normal as any other man I knew except, well, Inu Yasha. I didn't know how to approach him anymore, afraid that if this silence was anger that he'd then blow up at me, and almost afraid that this shift in personality was permanent. I hadn't thought it possible for him to change, but maybe he had. It was so sudden that the question that eluded me was why. Why was he acting like this? I almost wanted him to act all cocky and angry again just to prove that it was still him and not some dark magic or an illusion or something.

 

Just to avoid the half-demon, I had drifted back to walk next to Sango after the second day of the hike while the monk moved ahead of us to join Inu Yasha. I didn't know what had shifted as well between the demon hunter and me, but we just began talking amongst ourselves about nothing important, giggling now and then to the men's looks. Admittedly, I hadn't talked to Sango much in the past. It was another welcomed change given the new silence. Once we were in the village, we were greeted by the village elder and put up for night in his house. Sango and I roomed together while Inu Yasha and Miroku had their own room, and Shippo slept with Kilala and the other children in the house. After eating dinner, I was putting out the sleeping mats while she changed into a thin yukata provided for by the lady of the house. My own was on top of my bedding, waiting for me to change into it since I couldn't rightly refuse her. Sango was brushing out her hair before she suddenly stopped, turning towards me with a curious look on her face, “Kagome, what are men like where you are from?”

 

I tried not to look shock by such a forward question, my eyes widening even if I could feel a gasp on my lips. It was a simple question the more I thought about it, formulating an answer, “They're . . . not as aggressive as the men of this time, I think, most of them would seem soft compared to Inu Yasha and Miroku, and just as tactless sometimes . . . I honestly don't know too much, I've never had a boyfriend really.”

 

“Boyfriend?” Sango asked innocently enough.

 

“A significant other, someone I care about, you know, dating, courtship?” I said, trying to make her understand. Sometimes I forgot how different this time was. Marriages were arranged in this time between the nobility and the wealth. Sometimes the common people could marry for love as long as it was within their own class. Sango would have been destined to marry another warrior, perhaps a samurai, but with her family gone and her village destroyed . . . I couldn't imagine myself in Sango's position. I was free to love anyone I wanted, wasn't I? “So . . .” She had started to say innocently enough, “You care about Inu Yasha, right? Isn't he your boyfriend then?”

 

“Sango!” I yelled at her, so shocked I thought my eyeballs were going to pop out of my skull, “Of course he is not! Whatever gave you that idea?”

 

She turned to me grinning, her dark hair slipping over shoulders, “Just the way you look at him sometimes, all the times he's saved you, and you've saved him, and, I don't know, just the way you two act around each other, it made me curious.”

 

“This from the woman that glances at Miroku, is he your boyfriend then?” I asked, not holding back the bitter edge in my voice. She must have thought me blind not to notice, I just hadn't thought of it till just then. She had to be in love with him. That would explain a lot of what had happened this past week between them, the glances, the small touches, the talking, and then the silence two nights ago. They must have had a spat then made up. A soft smile spread across her lips as she turned away from me as my eye widened. Was it true?! “He is your boyfriend!” I yelled, half in surprise and the other half in giddy excitement.

 

“Keep it down, Kagome, unless you want to let the whole house know!” She chided me, keeping her tone low. I couldn't help it, giggling as I turned around on my sleeping mat, sitting cross-legged as I waited for an answer. A light blush had spread across Sango's cheeks, her smile widening into a full on grin the more I looked at her. “Yes, I guess I could call him my boyfriend,” she said softly, compositing herself into softly smile before it broke and she giggled as much as I was.

 

“When did this happen? How?” I asked as she sat down on the mat next to mine, putting the brush down, “Does anyone else know?”

 

“I'm not entirely certain, we just talked one day about a week or so ago, and Miroku agreed to stop with his molestations if I stopping hitting him, and from there . . . we just started talking and . . . then he kissed me,” Sango said, a touch of sadness in her voice even if she smiled as she glanced off to the side, “Inu Yasha knows, he caught us kissing in a field the other afternoon, Miroku thinks he's jealous.”

 

I blinked at her, dumb struck. He had seen them? And he didn't tell me? Was that why he was acting weird? It had to be. Inu Yasha was jealous of Sango and Miroku's happiness . . . but why? I moved back from her, sitting at the head of my sleeping mat as I thought, looking down at my empty hands. It made perfect sense the more I thought about it. That had to be why. “Do you think . . . it is because both of you are together, and he's not with Kikiyo?” I asked, my mouth going dry.

 

Sango looked at me with pity in her eyes, and I knew that she was thinking the same thing, “I don't know, Kagome, he . . . is a hard man to understand.”

 

I looked up at her quickly, then down again. That was for certain. “Right,” I said as I stood up abruptly, grabbing the yukata as I tried to lighten the mood by changing the topic, “We should probably head to bed now, we can gossip tomorrow, after we kill this demon and find the shard, I can feel it.”

 

The demon huntress nodded then started to pull down the covers of her bedding before laying down and sleeping without any more words. I couldn't sleep right away, staring into the small hand mirror I kept with me in my pack. Staring at my own reflection, I couldn't help but think of Kikiyo. We were similar but not the same. Her hair was finer than mine, not as wild as mine, and cut differently. Mine was short compared to most women I had seen. My skin wasn't nearly as perfect either. I was pale at school, but compared to the other woman's, I looked like I had baked in a roaster. The only thing that was so similar it was scary was our eyes . . . only Kikiyo's always looked sad. Even when she was angry, she was sad. How could he want a woman that he could never make happy? It was no use thinking about. Inu Yasha loved Kikiyo, and nothing I could do would make it better. I put the mirror away and crawled into bed, but I tossed and turned the rest of the night, running in my dreams away from something I could not see . . .

 

**********

 

Sango

 

Kagome was right, the shard and the demon that possessed it were nearby the village. It was easy enough to dispatch and added another element to the small piece of the jewel she wore on her neck. We stayed again that night and left the following morning back down the mountain. Kagome and I talked more, but not about either of the men, and they were not talking to each other as well. Two days later, we were back at our old camping spot, the fire ring still in place. Miroku and I both made excuses to wander off, meeting up again a good distance away from the camp, but not near by the old field we were at last. The monk was worried as soon as I showed up, the happiness draining from his face as he looked at me gravely. “Is she buying it?” was the first thing he asked me.

 

I nodded, moving up a little to stand near him. Something was worrying him. He got up and paced a little away from me, “We have a problem . . .”

 

I blinked, “What problem?”

 

“I needled Inu Yasha into talking one night while we were in the village, he nearly avoided me each time I asked about Kagome or if he slept with Kikiyo . . .”

 

“Miroku! How could you? Why did you have to ask him a question like that? We were trying to be in conspicuous.”

 

“I couldn't resist, not after he asked me if I slept with you . . .”

 

My eyes widened, cheeks turning bright red as he continued, “I avoided his question, but I can't avoid it for long and then the jig is up, he'll never believe that I cannot keep my hands off of you, even if he knows nothing about sex, I'm an unreformed lecher to him, he did admit to not sleeping with Kikiyo thought it took a while to get it out of him . . . I . . . um . . .”

 

I frowned, my eyes narrowing on him. I did not like at all where he was going with that thought. While most other girls I had grown up with were innocent to the workings between men and women till they were married, I was not. I knew he was talking about sex, but what did he plan to do about it? My eyebrows knitted together, “You are not proposing that we . . .”

 

Miroku looked at me, something veiled in his eyes while his breath quickened, I didn't know if it was from fear or arousal or something close the both at the same time. Whatever it was, I grew increasingly more uncomfortable the more he looked at me and then finally spoke, “I . . . am kind of proposing that, not enough to get us in any trouble, just enough to convince him of it when he finds us, just like before with the kiss, but more . . . suggestive.”

 

I could not hold back anymore as I walked up to him. My hand slapped Miroku hard across the face, a red imprint on his cheek. Damn, that felt good. If he thought he could have his way with me for the sake of our act he had another thing coming. The monk stood frozen for a few moments then slowly brought his hand up to touch his cheek, rubbing away the pain. Something seemed to snap his eyes, a realization, something so profound that the awe spread across his features, mouth hanging open slightly. But as soon as that expression was there it was gone again, composure taking its place as he inhaled deeply before speaking, “Sango, just listen to me, if we do this, I'm almost sure it will cause something to happen between them, good or bad, but it's better than nothing at all, Inu Yasha has been on pins and needles around Kagome lately but his eyes are lingering on her longer, he just needs a push in the right direction, a visual demonstration of what he really wants.”

 

“And how do I know this is not an attempt to fulfill your need for female flesh? Your hands must be itching to touch me after holding back for a week, but I will not let it happen so easily or let you think that I am that foolish, I will not be used by you,” I bit back, venom dripping in my voice. The nerve of him, to propose this now? Did he think I was stupid to fall for it? Miroku's eyes started to rise in anger but it melted away like snow in the spring, unnervingly calm as he looked at me. He took a step closer but off to the side, not letting me see his face as he stood at my shoulder. What the hell was he doing?

 

The monk then suddenly grabbed my wrist, pulled me next to him, and leaned in to my ear, whispering as I stood rooted to the stop, his tone starting out hurt, “How can you think that of me? . . .” He paused, his voice emotionless as I turned my head away, “If it will save your pride, I will let you punish me for my actions anywhere you see fit except bruising my face or any extremity that the others could see, you can take out all your pain and anger at me for this or anything else I've done to you, for as long as it takes for you to feel better and to trust me,” Miroku's voice turned up in pain, nearly chocking on his words, “I never wanted you to think that I would ever use you like that, that I was that selfish and deceitful, I may be a lecher to you, but I would never lie to a woman to bed her, I don't want to be that person you think I am anymore, I am trying to be better, to not be a lecher, I . . . I don't care about the pain, Sango, I . . .”

 

I turned my head and looked at him, something in me rising in hope as my knees felt like they would melt into mud. Miroku was close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin even if no other part of him touched me. I could resist turning my head no longer and looked at him, the usually devilish smirk on his face softening. How could I not notice before when he looked at me? It was part of the monk's charm, roguishly handsome but capable of such tenderness when he wanted. Oh how I wished he meant when he said he wanted to be better, but it was so much of his character that I wonder how long it would last. It was so tempting though to accept . . . “Miroku, I . . .” I started to say as there was a rustle in the trees nearby but no wind.

 

“It's him,” Miroku whispered, his dark eyes suddenly pained. His arms clasped my waist in an instant, pulling me tight against his body as I gasped. I looked up and saw a flash of red that had stopped in the trees in front of me, the forest silent except for our heavy breathing. The monk's hands slowly traveled up my back as he nuzzled the side of my face, whispering into my ear soft enough that I could barely hear him, “Forgive me.”

 

Before I could say anything, the monk crushed his lips against mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth while I tried not to squeal. It was deeper than any other kiss in my life, a sensation that should have felt weird if it hadn't lit a fire under my skin. There was something desperate in his passion, a feeling that washed over it and consumed him. Without any prodding, my arms hugged Miroku round the neck as I stood on my toes to respond, my head tilted slightly. His grip tightened on my waist and I knew he was surprised but happy. Why wouldn't he be happy? He was kissing me. The dark-haired monk finally broke off the kiss, leaving me panting before my breath was stolen from me again as he pushed me up against a tree. I flinched. The look in his dark blue eyes pinned me to the tree as much as his hands did, stunned and suddenly nervous. I'd seen him look at other women before with a hint of lust, but the amount of it I was seeing now was frightening, almost. This was a position I could have sworn more than a week ago that I would have killed him if he did this to me then, but now . . . I couldn't think anymore as his lips touched my flushed cheeks then the top collar of my fighting bodysuit. He let go of my back and slowly slid his hands up my torso and into my kimono.

 

My heart slammed into my throat as his fingers pulled the kimono open wide and found the buttons down the right side of my neck. He slowly undid them as I tensed, biting back a moan as his other hand groped at my breast through the fabric. This wasn't happening, least of all in front of Inu Yasha. That red fabric of his robes was still peeking through the leaves as I tried to not look as afraid and panic as I was feeling. Miroku must have sensed it as he quickly moved till I could breath on his neck, obscuring the half-demon's view of my face as his fingers continued. Before I knew it, the monk had his hand inside my suit and was feeling up my back as he whispered commands in my ear, keeping my face buried in his neck, “Lift your right leg.”

 

I did as he said, bewildered at myself as to why I was trusting him. He caught my leg and let it wrap over his waist while pinning my hips to the tree with his body. I suddenly felt more vulnerable like this, fully feeling his length straining through his dark robes against my thighs and sex. The blush in my cheeks intensified till I was bright red. This wasn't happening. Miroku groaned and shifted his body, moving the fabric off of my neck and shoulders to kiss my skin and expose my chest, his hand groping again till my nipples stiffened. I whimpered and clutched the back of his robe till it balled up in my fists. Out of pure instinct, my hips ground against his in a simulation of what every part of my body except my mind wanted, the act causing the monk's knees to nearly give out as he groaned. His hands pushed me back into the tree trunk, freezing me, “Don't do that again,” Miroku tried to threaten, but his voice cracked in fear, “Not unless you mean it.”

 

My brown eyes glared at him. How dare he tell me what not to do? In that moment, I almost forgot all about Inu Yasha and wanted nothing more than to pin the monk to that blast tree like he had pinned me then maybe he's let me do what I wanted. What did he mean anyway? `Not unless you mean it', what's that suppose to mean? I couldn't think about anything else though except what else Miroku was hiding all those robes all this time. I had to know, even if it meant never knowing if he did really love me. I didn't care anymore what his intentions were or about my pride and honor so long as I had him. I bucked, almost throwing him off till he pushed me back down, holding me still in a tight embrace. Wasn't this what he wanted? A beautiful half naked woman willing to sleep with him? What was stopping him besides his own pride? Mine was shattered, gone the moment he had kissed me. All I could feel was the pounding of my heart, the fire in my veins and the gut-wrenching feeling that in the next moment it would be all over and he would never touch me again, never kiss me, never look at me like that again, never hug me, never lay one finger on me ever again. My heart dropped out of my throat. Why was I thinking like this? This was Miroku I was thinking about, after all, lecherous, conniving, cheating, perverted, womanizing, asshole-ic, greedy, scheming, rough, roguish, spirited, honest, hilarious, heroic, brave, honorable, handsome, simply wonderful Miroku. Miroku? I tried to look deep into the monk's eyes, something fragile in them as he stopped moving to only caress my cheek, “I . . .”

 

My eyes widened at the sound, nearly dumb struck in the revelation. Maybe . . . I did love him . . . It all clicked as I fought against the monk till I could find his lips, stealing a kiss this time as he murmured in surprise into my mouth before he groaned softly and deepened it. I tried to convey how much I felt into the kiss, but I couldn't. It was too much to understand all at once, too big of an emotion for a simple kiss. I wanted it to last forever, but all too soon there was a rustle of leaves in the trees and Miroku pulled away almost instantaneously, nearly dropping me as I tried to stand again. “He's gone . . .” was all the dark-haired man could say as he turned away.

 

Indeed, the red in the leaves was gone, and it hadn't reappeared anywhere else. I wanted to curse the half-demon for not sticking around longer. I knew I was angry, more over the fact that he had stopped touching me than that he touched me to begin with, which was probably what he was thinking. Miroku didn't look as pissed as I felt, more guilty and ashamed as he finally looked back at me than anything even if the bulge in his robe was more than evident. His hair was only mildly messed up, his clothes slightly wrinkled, and sweat glistened off his skin. He almost looked perfect as I felt unrecognizable with my body suit and kimono wide open and falling off my arms, and my hair plastered to my skin. Neither of us said anything, just staring at the other and panting heavily. I could see Miroku's eyes rise and fall with my chest on each breath. My lips caught up into a smirk, breaking the silence as my anger boiled over when he started to turn away again, “What's the matter, Miroku? Too ashamed to look at me anymore?”

 

He shuddered and I knew the dagger had been twisted into him, “I'm sorry, Sango, please . . . forgive me . . .”

 

“Forgive you? A week and a half ago, I would have killed you for doing that, and all you can say to me is to forgive you?” I said softly, the anger in my voice rising dramatically, “Is that the only thing you can say after that?”

 

He said nothing, and I snapped, the whole understanding filling my vision. If he felt anything for me, he'd never willingly say it. No matter what I felt for him, he'd never tell me unless I broke down first. I had had enough. I no longer cared about being honorable. I had nothing but ghosts to be honorable for. I was tired of being alone, tired of keeping my emotions in check. I had nothing to lose. I pushed off of the tree and walk closer to him, not bothering to fix my clothes as my eyes filled with anger. He would never do anything until one of our prides crumbled, and I could feel mine give way with each step. He was not getting away so easily. The monk turned towards me as I approached, his face stoned while steeling himself up to be hit. He promised me my revenge for this, and I would have it. One shove from my hands and Miroku collapsed with his back flat against the nearest tree, stunned when he expected to be punched. I grabbed his wrists and forced them over his head, pulling the tie of my kimono free and using it to bind his hands to one of the other branches. He looked at me, suddenly scared but not struggling too much as I pressed against him, “Sango, what are you doing?!”

 

“Punishing you,” I said as my eyes narrowed while he stopped moving when I finished with the knot and backed away, standing two feet away from him, “I have spent the past week trying to figure out your actions and intentions, whether you were doing this charade truly for Inu Yasha and Kagome sake, or just for yourself to try to woo me and bed me, or if even the slightest part of your being showed any signs of caring for me at all, how am I to know if you never talk me? You have been avoiding talking about it since that kiss and I am tired of waiting to find out.”

 

“Sango!” he yelled as his lovely midnight blue eyes nearly popped out of his head, guilt giving away to embarrassment and shock, “There are easier ways to find out than to tie me up!”

 

“Oh really? What would you have wanted to happen after that little scene, let me beat you into a pulp and then left me here with no answers?” I said bitterly, staring at him. Miroku's mouth snapped shut, his thoughts racing behind his eyes. I pulled my hair free from the tie, and let the kimono fall onto the ground. The sound jolted his sight up again, and he turned red, his face darkening in shame even if he couldn't stop looking. The monk bit his lip to keep from whimpering as his eyes roamed over me from head to tow, lingering on my bare breasts as I crossed my arms. He took in a great swallow of air and hissed it out through his teeth when I moved forward, nearly touching him. “What do you expect me to tell you?” Miroku asked as he tried to look away but failed badly, “Do you want me to admit that I love you?”

 

I arched my eye brows, grinning slightly. Who said anything about love? I didn't, he did. The realization hit my face in a smile as the monk cursed, “Shit! It means nothing! I swear, I don't-! . . . Shit, damn it!” Miroku broke off in a growl of frustration, clunking his head on the tree trunk as he let a long stream of curses fly from his mouth.

 

“Should I take that as a yes?” I asked before kissing the monk's neck, pressed against him now that I knew he would love this instead of fighting me too much. His arms strained at the branch and bindings, but they held firm. Throwing a few more curses around, he tried to wiggle away from me however feeble an attempt it was before stopping with a moan, “If I say yes, I do love you, will you untie me?”

 

“But will you mean it?” I asked as my fingers intertwined in the ties of his outer robe, pulling it open. Miroku's face screwed up in anger before gaping as I tugged the fabric from his shoulder and down over his body, unsure if he wanted to kill me or kiss me more. His inner robe was strained and clung to him in sweat, barely hiding anything anymore as I could make out all the lines of his muscles. I was almost mesmerized as I stared, running my hand down his chest over the fabric to the tie of his indigo robe then back up. I had seen the men of my village nearly nude before when they worked the fields in summer, but the monk was a trained in combat and it showed in his build, tall, wiry, but compact muscles, and thin enough that whenever he tensed a single part it sprang into a new, hardened shape. Miroku shivered but said nothing as I looked him over, his mind either lost in thought or gone into shock. I pulled the fingerless gloves of my body-suit off, tossing them on top of my kimono. My hands then slowly pulled back the collar as I leaned in to kiss his neck and shoulder, returning the favor from earlier. He sagged back against the tree as I pressed against him, groaning louder. I kissed down the center of his chest, pulling his robe open till I stopped at the knot holding it together and moved back up while my hands reached under the garment to touch his skin.

 

His flesh was as hot as fire under my fingers, my hand slowly moving up and around to his back to grab a fistful of his black hair. Miroku cringed, tugging more on my grip as he tried to twist his head free. He was about to yell when I kissed him, loosening the hold a little as he forgot about the pain and tried to take over. I let him for a little, lifting my leg instead to curl around his side till I could feel his loins pressed against mine through the fabric. My hips ground against his like the first time, and he nearly screamed into my mouth. I yanked on his hair to end the kiss, and pulled away as he cried out, cursing when my hips stopped, “Damn you! Let me go!”

 

“Did you mean it?” I asked, moving my hips a little more as I gave a low moan, “Did you mean it when you slipped up and said you loved me?”

 

“I, ahhhhh, I meant it-ahhhhh-at-the-time, gods!” Miroku tried to say, the words punctuated with a roll of my hips, “Now, ahhhh, I'm, uh ahhh, not- so-sure, ah, harder, ahhhhh, I'd almost rather, uhhh, that you, ohhhh, had-slapped-me, ahhhh, that's a lie, you can slap me around all you want if you do this again, gahhhh! Don't stop!”

 

But I had stopped as I couldn't take it anymore, holding still against him. I was as much on fire as he was, my body suit drenched in the crotch along with the sweat, leaving a wet stain on his kimono that grew bigger in each moment. I pulled the knot in his sash free and brushed the fabric aside. Miroku inhaled sharply, holding his breath as the color drained from his face. I stared down at his naked body and dropped my leg away to take a step back. I noticed that his bindings to the tree was still secure and that he'd stopped struggling a long time ago, limp except for one part. Now that part of a man I had never seen before except in illustrations. I tilted my head slightly, watching as his sex jumped under my gaze. I reached out to touch the tip with my finger, and Miroku yelped loud enough to make someone think I was trying to kill him, “Don't, Sango!”

 

I glared at him, almost wanting to crush him in my fingers for that warning but then he would have been of no use to me. He hadn't seemed that ungrateful when he still had his clothes on. I touched him anyway, sliding two fingers along his skin from tip to root. Miroku yelled probably loud enough to probably be heard across half the providence and definitely back at camp. I clamped my other hand over his mouth, muffling the sound as I knew he wasn't in pain. A small bead of white seed formed on the tip as my hand wrapped over him but held still. He hadn't shut up yet, but calmed down somewhat once my hand stopped. “Stop, unless you Inu Yasha to see you tied up like this,” I hissed, hoping the half-demon hadn't heard us already, “Or maybe Kagome, or Shippo, I wonder who Kilala would cut to ribbons if she found us right now, you for defiling my honor, or me for going so willingly?”

 

Miroku went as silent as a graveyard, and as pale as a ghost, his blood running straight into his crotch. I slowly pulled my hand off on his mouth, staring right into his eyes as I spoke, serious, “I need to know, Miroku, I'm not playing around anymore, you've nearly admitted it already, but it is not close enough, so give in and tell me before I change my mind . . . do you love me?”

 

The monk's mouth dropped open in shock, gaping for an answer as I leaned against him and drew my hand down. Miroku's blue eyes rolled closed as he shuddered and moaned before I stopped again, startling him as I poked a fingernail into the tender flesh, “Gahhh, ok, ok! It's hard to think when you do that!”

 

“Say it,” I ordered coldly, drawing my hand down as it drew another groan from his throat. Miroku's eyes fluttered closed as he tried to lean in closer to me, not getting very far from the bonds. “Yes, I love you, I've loved you ever since the first time I laid my hands on you and you slapped me for it, you're the most beautiful and strongest willed woman I've ever touched,” He said with another shudder from my fingers, “If it wasn't for Naraku, this damned curse, my own foolish pride, and my bad habits, I would have told you a week after I met you, ahhhhh, gah! I love you! Ahhh, harder, ah, please?”

 

Leave it to the lecher to make a declaration of love about his wandering fingers and own perversions. I reached up and untied one of his hands, keeping the second stuck to the tree as he groaned. Miroku's hand instantly went to pull the top of my body suit off, and I obliged, naked from the hips up. The monk's fingers then dug in to grab my butt, his favorite handful, as I straddled one of his legs. My hand continued to rub his length, drawing him closer and closed to his release as my own felt like it was just beginning. My hand stopped in that realization, much to Miroku's unhappiness, “Gahhhh, don't stop now!”

 

“Then get your hand off my ass and put to good use,” I growled at him as I pulled his grip free and tried to push the limb down my pants. He got the message alright as his fingers dove towards my folds, going from gently to rough as he realized how wet I was. I swayed into his arms as his hand delved deeper, his thumb finding a particularly sensitive spot. I knew I was giving up my advantage but I didn't care, gasping as Miroku bend the branch more to suck from my neck and lower till his lips enclosed a pink nipple. I was elated too much to continue the pretense of any control over the situation, well, almost.

 

I screamed as release rolled over my nerves, muffling the sound in his hair and closing my eyes as I flooded onto his fingers, the fabric of my body suit, and his loins. My hand had stopped moving as he whined, tensed beyond measure as he held me close while it ended, my eyes fluttering open slowly. Miroku's blue eyes were huge as he looked at me, need, disbelieve, desperation, and love warring in their depths all at the same time. Shuddering, his hand pulled out and grabbed for my pants, trying to pull them down more before I stopped him from going much further. I was not going that far just yet, even if he told me he loved me. He didn't seem to get the message as the monk reached to pull me onto his lap and onto his member, fabric and restrictions be damned, only to stop when my hand grabbed him again and gave a squeeze, not enough to hurt him but enough to get his attention. Miroku yelled out and collapsed against the tree in either pain or pleasure or a mixture of both, a look of murder in his eyes now along with the hunger as he cursed, “For fuck's sake! Don't do that shit! Gahhh, just let me-”

 

I glared back at him, suddenly glad I had not untied his other hand, “You're forgetting our situation, neither one of us can afford the child you desperately want right now, the only thing I want from you at the moment is your love and to feel you in my hands, so shut up, and kiss me.”

 

He must have come to his sense as he kissed me, pouring his hungry into it before crying out again as my hand moved along his length, the combination of sweat and sex making it easier to jack him off. His lips tore away from mine as he finally came, spilling seed onto the earth as he convulsed. The monk's dark, pretty eyes rolled into the back of his head, almost passing out as his voice died in a strangled yelp while trying to catch his breath. He looked used, probably the same way I looked as my hair clung to me, but he was still on his feet, just barely. I untied Miroku's remaining hand, and he fell into a boneless heap at the base of the tree. Thinking I could get away from him without any consequences, I tried to slip around the tree only to feel his arms seize me around the waist and pull me into his lap. It wasn't worth resisting anymore anyway. I fell into his embrace just as exhausted as he was, and knew he wouldn't try anything right away after that. The monk didn't say anything, resting his head in the bend of my neck as his arms surrounded me. After a long moment, I started, or at least tried to, “So . . . what now?”

 

“I'm alright with this situation if you are,” he said, low and soft, enough to heard by me alone, “I . . . did mean what I said . . .”

 

“I know,” I said with a gentle smile, nuzzling closer to him instead of saying the words. His arms gripped a little tighter and I could feel his smile against my neck. I shifted till I could touch his hair, playing with the short ends, “You know, this really means you can't go around asking other women to bear your little brats.”

 

Miroku gave a snort of laughter, “Does this mean you're volunteering?”

 

I blinked, blushing slightly, “Maybe, but don't get any funny ideas right now, once we destroy Naraku, we'll have all the time in the world . . . it is ok though, right, for a monk to have a family?”

 

“I am still a man, Sango, I may have devoted my life to the gods' work, but I am not married to it,” he said, “Besides, if it was disallowed, I probably wouldn't have become one.”

 

He chuckled again, and I couldn't help but giggle. We fell silent again, resting on one another. And yet, I felt uncomfortable just sitting there, and I knew why. Not caring about decency anymore, I peeling out of my wet body suit and tossed it next to my kimono as I picked up the robe instead, slipping that garment over us like a blanket instead. Feeling the same way about his ruined inner robe, he pulled it off and tossed it next to my clothes. I tried not to blush as he was totally nude now beneath me, wearing nothing but the glove and beads on one hand. It was a sobering thought though, his curse. I reached out to touch it, fingering the beads till he grabbed my wrist to still my hand. “It's . . . ok, Sango, I'll be alright for a few more years, it took my father twenty-years from the time the curse came to him to die from it, and I've only had it for maybe two, if Inu Yasha and the rest of us continue to grow at this rate, we'll out-power Naraku in five or less, it will be . . . alright,” he said, an edge of sadness on his voice.

 

I couldn't resist it anymore, turning in his lap to face him. My hands cupped his cheeks as I kissed him, feeling him stiffen a moment then relax. I let go, touching our forehead's together as I looked into his eyes, “I . . . do love you, Miroku, it just took me a while to realize it, we'll get through this.”

 

The monk nodded, his grin infectious, “I know.”

 

“Do you think . . . Inu Yasha will believe you now?” I asked trying to get back to the plot that brought us together in the first place, “Even if he didn't see us, he must smell it by now.”

 

“Oh, he'll believe us now alright, knowing him, he'll be even more testy the next couple of days till Kagome heads home . . .” Miroku said, his thoughts hidden behind his eyes, “But I don't know if it'll be enough, Kagome's more reasonable than he is, but you said she denied it . . .”

 

“She did, but was also almost giddy when I told her you were my boyfriend . . .” I said, blushing slightly. The monk's grin widened and I could feel the irony of the situation. I never should have told her that but like his lie to Inu Yasha, I couldn't avoid it. “Is that what they call lovers in her time?”

 

“Miroku!” I yelled, turning bright red in embarrassment. I didn't want to admit it, but maybe he was right about that, “Yes, it is, so?”

 

“My dear Sango, you are even lovelier when you are red, shaming the maple leaves in autumn,” he said as he kissed my cheek. Oh, he was good when he wanted to be. I fell silent, trying to be more serious as he stopped grinning. “We need a better plan, Miroku, some way to force an encounter between them,” I said, trying to think back to what actually happened between us, and then it clicked, “I think I have an idea . . .”

 

**********