Pairing: Sango/Miroku (can be either platonic or romantic, depending on interpretation)
Rating: PG for nudity at a hot spring
Word Count: 2093
Author's Note: This fic was written for fluorescens at the lj community iyflashfic January 2006 round. Oh, and forgive the hot spring cliché, please.

Summary: Sango bathes and seethes. Miroku's nearby of course.

Strong Weaknesses, by dawnsama

"Do you want me to leave the shampoo here?" Kagome asked as she toweled herself dry.

Sango propped her head on the bank of the hot spring, closing her eyes. Who cared if her skin was going to be as wrinkled as a prune when she got out? The comfort of the steam was worth it.

"Sango-chan?"

"Eh?" Stirring, Sango asked, "what did you say, Kagome-chan?"

Chuckling, Kagome bundled her hair into her towel and reached for her underwear. "Yeah, I think hot springs are wonderful too. I better leave this here with you then."

"Leave what?"

"It's not like you to be so unaware, Sango-chan," Kagome teased, placing a bottle of shampoo by her elbow.

"Well, it has been a very long night," Sango murmured. Even with her eyes closed, she could still feel Kagome shift her gaze to the fresh bruises and scabbed over wounds along Sango's arms and shoulders.

"Yes, it was very… active, earlier," Kagome commented as she slipped on a shirt. "But at least we got out of it, safe and alive. And we got another shard!"

"Wonderful," Sango answered dully.

Something shuffled behind her and paused in front of her head. Sango opened her eyes straight into Kagome's worried face.

Crouching on her knees, Kagome placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, "Is it because Kohaku was there?"

Sango snapped her head up, narrowly brushing Kagome's nose, and splashed her face. Her cheeks were chilly on her fingertips.

"We all escaped alive, including Kohaku," Sango said crisply. "So there's still a chance of saving him."

There was a pause, but eventually, Kagome answered, "Of course." She stood up. "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, go ahead. I'm sure Shippou-chan wants to hear a story," Sango answered, waving a hand at her.

She heard Kagome take a step back and hesitate. Patiently, she reached behind her for the bottle of shampoo and squeezed its contents into her palm.

"Really, Kagome-chan," she remarked as she slapped the shampoo onto her head. "I'll be all right. You can go."

"But Kohaku! Your injuries!"

"Yes, Kohaku did give me injuries tonight," Sango snapped. She didn't mean to come off so coldly, not to Kagome, who didn't deserve it, especially not after tonight's battle. But Sango didn't feel like curbing herself at the moment, although she knew that she would feel ashamed of behavior in the morning. "It's not the first time, is it? Kohaku hurting me, me hurting Kohaku. Let me be and take your worrying elsewhere where it might be wanted."

"…Okay then."

Sango winced at the softness in her voice and the guilt sifted in before the morning could come. But when she turned around to apologize, Kagome's back was already disappearing through the trees, her footsteps softly echoing away.

Splashing her face, Sango sighed and wondered what was wrong with her. To distract herself, Sango concentrated on another annoyance.

It was silly, really. Sango had noticed Miroku's presence ever since she and Kagome had gone into the water, although Kagome hadn't seemed to have known. At least he'd had the decency to wait until they were actually in the water.

There was a decent-sized rock Sango was contemplating on casually picking up, right by her right elbow. It wouldn't leave substantial damage, but it would still give a bump that Miroku would remember. Of course, he'd come back the next chance he'd get, but a little warning would do.

Sango lifted a hand out of the water and pretend to stretch, inching close to the rock, but midway across, she switched directions and rubbed the back of her neck instead. There was too much pain tonight. She'd probably hurt Kagome's feelings, for one. And the clash with Naraku had left colorful bruises on her skin that would probably remain for quite a few days. Not to mention the injuries she'd probably inflicted on Kohaku… that is, if he could be injured, but that didn't appease her.

Sango didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. Or, at least, not at the moment, even if Miroku did deserve it a little.

Her hand crept back into the water and Sango dunked her head underneath, furiously scrubbing at her scalp. Kagome's shampoo smelled of oranges this time, and Sango felt even guiltier for snapping out at her.

As she resurfaced and shook water out of her eyes, Sango wondered how Miroku could keep himself so quiet. Of course, by now, Sango would have already revealed his hiding place, so before this situation would never have happened.

The silence was eerie, crawling along her shoulders and magnifying the splashes that followed her movements. It was stupid for the silence to unsettle her. She was a fighter, she was strong, she could deal with enemies if they surprised her, even if she was naked. Her sword rested only an arm's length away. But Sango suddenly didn't want to act like the great warrior.

"Houshi-sama," she said abruptly.

No response. Of course not. Miroku probably thought she was going to hurt him and stayed quiet to enjoy as much of the view as he could.

She tried again. "Houshi-sama?"

Still nothing, but there was a rustle to her right, most likely a brush of robes against leaves.

She sighed. "Houshi-sama, I know you're there. If you're going to watch me bathe, please do it in the open. Either that, or leave. I won't try to hit you," she added.

A breath of pause, and then a purple figure emerged from the trees.

"Are you serious?" Miroku wondered, eyes wide as he shoke stray leaves from his staff.

Sango looked away and crossed her arms over her chest.

Sighing in disappointment, Miroku quipped, "Well, if you say so." He settled down on a rock a scant yard away from the spring. "May I ask why you are so generous tonight, Sango-san?"

Why indeed. Sango didn't really know. In fact, she had already begun to regret it. She had forgotten that calling the monk out would result in a close proximity to her bathing place. Stupid of her. It was already troublesome enough when Miroku was close to her with her clothes on.

But at least with Miroku nearby, sitting, talking, it wasn't so silent.

"I just wanted some company, that's all," Sango answered, shrugging her shoulders.

She peeked underneath her bangs at the monk, who had quirked up an eyebrow.

"Didn't Kagome-sama offer to stay behind until you finished bathing" he asked. "You refused her company very explicitly."

Scowling, Sango splashed her face. Of course he was there behind the bushes to witness her bad temper. Now he was there to rub it in.

"I didn't want company then. I changed my mind."

"Or do you prefer my company to hers?" Miroku mused, rubbing his chin.

Sango rolled her eyes and didn't even try to answer.

"You know, you were quite sharp to her," he continued. "It's not like you to treat Kagome like that. She was only concerned for you after all."

"I needed to nurse my wounds!" Sango blurted. It was the first thing that had come to her mind. "And they made me irritable."

"Oh? I would suppose that that would be the case if you were sending me away," Miroku considered. "Not Kagome."

"I just didn't want her to fuss over me, that's all," Sango insisted. Except that it wasn't, really.

"It is in Kagome's nature to care." Miroku's face suddenly craned over her shoulder to peer at her face. Sango started at the sudden warmth behind her and lowered deeper into the water. "Or are you troubled about the fight earlier?" Miroku asked. "Was it because Kohaku was there?"

"Maybe!"

Oops. That came out a little more forcibly than she intended.

She pierced her lips and concentrated on the water before her, telling herself that her cheeks burned because of the heat from the hot spring. Why did Miroku have to get all caring and concerned now? Why couldn't he just be lecherous so she'd have an excuse to hit him, even if she said she wouldn't? And couldn't he move his head away?

"You know, you don't have to keep it to yourself," Miroku told her.

"Excuse me?" She refused to look at his face. He could have been looking at her breasts for all she knew.

"Let me rephrase that: you don't have to keep your troubles to yourself."

Sango gave a sharp laugh. "Oh, you and Kagome-chan have been talking about me, haven't you? You shouldn't worry about me. I'm stronger than you think."

"Sometimes you don't need to be strong."

Balling her fists, Sango thought of blood, of the carefully bland look on Kohaku's face as he swiped at her back, of the way her arm swung as she stabbed at him. It had all happened just hours before.

Don't cry, she told herself. Not in front of him. Don't do it.

"Sometimes," she replied, stifling her tears, "being strong isn't enough." It didn't sound so far-fetched to her. What good had her strength done for Kohaku?

Miroku sighed. "I think you're just proving my point."

"Sure. Would you please go away now? I'm getting out."

Miroku paused for a beat, and then slowly stood up and stepped back.

Sango turned around slowly and carefully, making sure that her chest was decently covered, and glared. "I meant go where you can't see me. Please," she added.

"As you wish," Miroku acquiesced. "But I won't be very far."

"What?"

"I just don't think you should be left alone. You asked for my company, after all. Remember, Sango-san?"

He retreated behind a tree before she could answer.

Huffing, Sango quickly wrung out her hair, perfectly prepared to drag out the act of "getting out" for as long as possible. But a rustle of robes reminded her that Miroku still had the ability to crane his head around whatever branches he had gone behind. She dropped her hair down onto the hot spring bank with a slap and yanked at her towel.

As she slipped on her inner clothing, Sango noticed even more guilt creeping up her neck and to her shock, it was because of her harshness towards Miroku this time.

It's stupid, she told herself. Miroku was being nosy. He deserved it.

But Sango didn't think of herself as cruel person. Certainly she could never be as cruel as, say, Naraku. Look what he did to Kohaku. Look how he tore her people apart, her family. Look how he turned siblings against one another. Look how he forced siblings to fight each other. Look at his bloody web of pain.

Yet at the same time, Sango could perfectly describe herself as a weak person. After all, how far had her efforts to save Kohaku gone?

And now that her mind was on that topic, Sango could think of other ways weakness resided in her. Maybe she didn't want to talk to anyone about Kohaku at the moment, but she didn't have the control to communicate it gracefully. She could push Kagome away very well but she randomly grabbed at Miroku and whined when she could kick him away the next second.

Miroku had said that you didn't have to be strong all the time, but to Sango, the act of not being strong required strength in itself.

What with the pain dotting her body from her injuries and the face of her brother floating in her mind, Sango stopped holding on.

By time she reached Miroku, tears stained her cheeks and mixed with the water dripping from her hair. Sango jittered when a gloved hand slid around the small of her back but she only collapsed into Miroku's embrace, hands gripping his robes.

"I didn't mean it," she rasped into his chest. "I didn't. I really didn't. Not to Kagome either. I didn't mean to fail Kohaku. I didn't mean to yell. I didn't mean to cry. I didn't mean to let Naraku hurt me. I—"

Sango hiccupped and suddenly realized her situation. Was that mucus she was slathering on Miroku's no doubt clean robes?

"You don't have to apologize," Miroku whispered into her ear.

"But I didn't," Sango sniffed.

"It's okay."

"No it's not! I'm sorry!"

"There you are then. It's okay." Miroku ran a hand through her wet hair and stroked the back of her neck, gently, softly. "It's okay."

And Sango closed her eyes and, for that moment, wanted to do away with all strength, and relaxed, letting Miroku bear her weight.