Sango looked up through the incessant drizzle at the imposing castle; the stark black outline of the gate and main tower loomed out of the mist. It had been raining then, that day three years ago when she had last saw it and it was raining now – perhaps it was an omen, she thought.
She crossed the threshold; she hesitated for the briefest of moments at the spot she had last saw him. Kuranosuke had been smiling as he watched her leave yet again. Now Sango was back again, this time alone.
"Sango?"
The familiar gentle voice caused her to jump. Her heart quickened: he had not changed in the slightest. Clad in a royal blue coat with his family crest emblazoned on the back, he stood in his favourite pose; arms folded, legs akimbo, back ramrod-straight, chin held high. Overlong hair was bound in a high ponytail that streamed down his shoulders. He had evidently come back from inspecting his lands judging by the several heavy scrolls clutched by his attendant.
Sango smiled: the coincidence was too fantastic, it felt as though the kamis were trying to tell her something.
Kuranosuke smiled back. He reached out and took Sango's hand in both his own. "Sango," he breathed and a shiver ran down her spine – there was the old longing in that voice which worried her immensely. "You've finally returned. Where are your companions?"
"Lord Takeda," she returned, unable to keep the blush from staining her cheeks. "I came alone. I hope you are well?"
"Very well indeed." Something changed in his face but he caught himself. Kuranosuke gestured to one of his attendants and the man stood a little straighter.
"Prepare some tea and a meal. Sango, you must be tired from your journey, allow me to provide you some refreshment."
She looked up, startled. "N – no, Lord Takeda. Don't trouble yourself – "
"Nonsense!" He threw back his head and laughed; hearty 'ho ho ho's which flustered her even more. "It is the least I can offer you, Sango – unless you desire anything else which is in my power to provide?"
Sango bit her lip.
Kuranosuke took her silence as assent. The demon slayer allowed him and his attendants to escort them to the dining hall where he was quick to dismiss them once the tea had been served.
"It's been too long, Sango," he commented ever so casually, sipping his tea. Sango took a slow draught of her own, not tasting the tea, trying not to notice the eager eyes peering at her from over the rim of his cup.
"It has," she agreed.
Kuranosuke set down his cup. "Now, how can I be of assistance to you?"
"Lord Takeda – "
The lord held up a hand. "Please, I have told you to call me Kuranosuke." The last remark was delivered with a winning smile that made her heart sink. "There is no need for such formality."
"Yes – Kuranosuke." Sango fidgeted with her sleeves. "Actually… my mission is complete."
"Then let me be frank." His expression grew solemn; hands balled in loose fists on his thighs. "Have you come home for good this time, Sango? Say you accept my proposal of marriage and make me the happiest man in the land."
As soon as her wounds had healed, she had insisted on making the journey to the Takeda lands, disregarding both Miroku and Kohaku's protests. I cannot in good conscience leave Lord Takeda waiting forever for me, she recalled telling them – and then adding the next part with a blush – not when I'm to be married to someone else.
This is something I have to do alone – without anyone else. Kamis know this is hard enough for me – and Lord Takeda.
She steeled herself. "Kuranosuke… I have something to tell you."
Kuranosuke's expression hardened subtly. "What is it?"
"I… cannot accept your proposal of marriage."
"Why not?" he asked genially. "I remember you telling me that you cannot move forward in life until your quest is at an end – which you just mentioned it was. I have waited for you since that day, hoping you would return for good, hoping you would become my wife someday."
"I am sorry," Sango told him. "I am… already promised to someone else."
Kuranosuke had clearly not been expecting that answer; he seemed to crumple inward on himself like a crushed toy. It was soon gone, the usual cheery look back.
"My congratulations. He is a lucky man indeed." The young lord smiled warmly, apparently oblivious to the horror in the slayer's eyes. "I presume it is that young monk traveling with you?"
"Kuranosuke – !"
He got to his feet and walked over to the veranda, hands clasped behind his back. The rain had stopped; the air was rich with the earthy aroma that lingered after.
"He clearly cares for you very much," remarked the lord. "At least I will know you will be well-looked after." Kuranosuke turned to her. "Still, I am glad you came all this way to tell me."
She could not meet his gaze. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
"You should not be." He reached her in a few long strides; taking her hand. "But I will say this: it is one of my greatest regrets I could not make you my wife in this lifetime."
"You will find someone more suitable to be your wife than I," she said almost desperately.
He chuckled. "It matters not. As I said three years before, Sango, no one is more suited to be my wife than you. I am an excellent judge of character, after all. I once said I would wait for you forever, if that was what it took." Releasing her hand after a quick squeeze, he made his way to the door again and paused. "Please stay the night at least; it is a long journey back."
Before she could say anything in response he was gone. She could hear his hearty laughter as he walked down the corridor. Left alone, Sango chewed her lip; she tasted blood. Colour tinged her flustered and hot face.
Once Kuranosuke was sure he was safely out of sight, he dropped the false cheer; his face darkened. "Damn that monk," he muttered. The memory of those determined violet eyes prompted jealousy and admiration in equal amounts.
He had been a fool; seeing everything and doing nothing. The young lord had thought it beneath his dignity to compete with a mere houshi – a penniless, itinerant houshi! – for Sango's heart: at the time, it had been obvious who was the most eligible suitor.
Kuranosuke. Smiling, laughing Kuranosuke, the proud lord of the clan who hid his disappointment (and shrewd mind) behind bluff cheer. Kuranosuke who waited forever for a woman he could never have.
"That is not how I would like to be remembered," the lord said aloud. The meanest of comforts was the knowledge Sango's husband was a good man; Kuranosuke was not that spiteful to deny him that. He was a good judge of character, after all.
Losing was never an easy thing for him, not with his nobleman's pride.
Kuranosuke was there to see her off early the next morning, from the same gate they had parted that rainy day long ago. The only difference was the weather was much more amiable, the sun standing out from the brilliant blue sky.
At least it's not raining, Sango thought. The irony would have been too great then.
"Please do not hesitate to look for me whenever you need any assistance. I wish you every happiness in your upcoming marriage," said Kuranosuke. "Are you absolutely certain there is nothing I can do to change your mind?"
"I'm sorry," she replied, head bowed. The young lord shrugged.
"Farewell then, Sango. Please convey my heartiest congratulations to your husband-to-be. May I call upon you if I ever require your demon-slaying expertise in future?"
Her head snapped up; she was relieved to hear a question she could readily answer. "Of course, Kuranosuke. We'll always be friends."
"Friends," he repeated.
Kuranosuke watched Sango go, watched her slender silhouette gradually fade into nothing down the road. He knew he would never see her again: she would find her own happiness in a world that had no place for him in it.
"Damn this rain," the young lord muttered aloud, looking up into the cloudless sky, wiping the water from his face. "It never stops."