Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters. I'm not profiting from writing this.
Dedication: This is a gift-fic for Aamalie. Happy Secret (Miro)Santa!
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Damsel
By Starzki
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Miroku's father loved women. He experienced indescribable joy in loving them, treasuring them, protecting them. So, amongst the standard children's fairy stories he told his young son, he created his own stories that would inspire the same love for women in his son.
Miroku's father was wise. The stories became ingrained in the young boy's mind. Miroku developed his own manner of loving and protecting women. But the stories only planted the smallest seeds of respect for the opposite sex. It would take a strong woman to cultivate the true meaning of love in Miroku.
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A young damsel was once kidnaped by an evil lord even though she was promised to a young, handsome, hard-working, and honest villager. The evil lord took the beautiful young woman to his palace. Her betrothed fought through the evil lord's army, defeating many foes, before he was face-to-face with the evil lord. Despite being younger and weaker than the evil lord, the villager truly loved the young woman, and that love gave him immeasurable strength. He defeated the evil lord and took the young woman home where they married, had many children, and lived happily until the end of their days.
Sango had been gone when they had woken up that morning.
Her weapons had been left behind, so she was not out hunting for breakfast.
Sango rarely left the group without informing someone of her intentions, so her prolonged disappearance was concerning. It was unlike her. If she had been attacked, she had let out no cry of warning to the others. If she had taken off to pursue a demon or bandit, she had not asked for help.
Inuyasha could not detect any scent of who or what may have drawn the young woman's attention away from the group, forcefully or otherwise. Neither could he detect Sango's scent.
Something was wrong.
When Sango had not returned within the hour, it was decided that Inuyasha, Kirara, and Miroku would split up to try to track Sango down. Kagome would stay behind with Shippou in case Sango returned while they were out looking for her.
Miroku chose to try searching the forest to the east of their camp.
He raced between the trees, the short dewy grass dampening his feet with its early morning dew. His only company was his vivid imagination.
A young damsel was once kidnaped by an evil lord even though she was promised to a young, handsome, hard-working, and honest villager. The evil lord took the beautiful young woman to his palace where she was put under a spell. She fell asleep and would not wake. The young villager fought his way through the evil lord's defenses. He defeated the evil lord in combat. The curse the evil lord had used to put the young woman to slumber was very strong. However, the strength of the young man's love prevailed over the evil of the curse and the young woman awoke. The young man took the young woman home where they married, had many children, and lived happily until the end of their days.
The forest was quiet that morning. Much of the woodland life was still sleeping.
The only sound that Miroku heard was the rustling of grass and dirt beneath his feet and the rhythmic sound of his heavy breath as he raced along, looking for any sign of Sango.
His thoughts distracted him. Long hours of meditation required of monks had trained him to examine the smallest details of life. He used this training to help him in his dangerous missions. By considering every possible outcome down to the tiniest point, he was nearly always completely prepared for the situation that actually occurred.
Therefore, he usually expected that the beautiful women he followed to remote areas could also be dangerous demons. But he was equally mentally prepared if they were shy, blushing maidens or wanton harlots.
Villagers, demons, clergy, royalty, hanyou, even young women from the future all behaved in predictable ways in different atmospheres. One only needed to be creative enough to imagine the different paths that different entities would consider to be good choices in order to predict certain outcomes with accuracy.
Miroku knew Sango. He knew what she was capable of.
However, since he did not know what she was up against, he could not predict this particular outcome.
It was in situations like this that Miroku's creativity, imagination, and propensity for trying to predict the various futures became more foe than friend to him.
A young damsel was once kidnaped by an evil lord who wanted her as his mate even though she was promised to a young, handsome, hard-working, and honest villager. The evil lord took the beautiful young woman deep into the woods where he thought no one could find her. The young villager fought his way to the evil lord and defeated him in combat. The young woman was nowhere to be found. The young man searched for her for years and years. Because of the strength of the young man's love, he was eventually able to find her living in a village, her memory erased. Yet, she too had sustained a love for the young man that had kept her young and beautiful. The young man and the young woman married, had many children, and lived happily until the end of their days.
Miroku was not sure what he would find at the end of his search for Sango.
He knew Sango. He trusted in her abilities. If she was taken by a man, Miroku had no doubt that she would overcome his advances easily.
But if she had been taken by a man, why hadn't she already defeated him?
Similarly, if she was taken by woodland demons typical to the area, she should also easily defeat that particular foe.
But again, if that were the case, why hadn't the rest of the group already heard of the fight?
Sango was strong. Physically, she was nearly equal to Miroku. In the one fight to the death that they had already had, he had barely won. However, she had been demonically possessed. Miroku wasn't sure whether that had given her a stronger will to defeat him or if it had weakened her typical attack against an enemy.
Yes, Sango was physically strong.
She was also emotionally strong. Her resolve and determination had all been tempered in the hottest fires of loss and sadness. She stood strong where good men, great men, would have understandably fallen into grief and depression.
But where was she? How had someone or something gotten the best of her to take her so far away?
Miroku's only answer to his internal questions was the patterned beating of his heart matching time with his footfalls through the forest.
He pressed on, drawn forward because he refused to dwell on anything behind him, in his past. Sango was his future, so he was sure she would be before him.
And still, he wondered why he hadn't found her yet.
A young damsel was once kidnaped by an evil demon who wanted her as his mate even though she was promised to a young, handsome, hard-working, and honest villager. The evil demon took the beautiful young woman deep into the woods where he thought no one could find her. The young villager fought his way through the forest to the secret hideaway. He defeated the evil demon in combat. The young woman had sustained a few injuries from her time with the evil demon that were strangely difficult to heal. However, the strength of the young man's love prevailed and the young woman was eventually cured. The young man and the young woman married, had many children, and lived happily until the end of their days.
Miroku tried to prevent himself from indulging the sad predictions about Sango's condition that he knew he would eventually have to make. He trusted in her strength. He knew that Sango would win the vast majority of the battles in which she engaged.
She had been well trained. She had a purpose. She had come so far. She had worked so hard.
But there were instances where she might lose. Miroku thought of such circumstances.
Sango could defeat a man. Two men would be harder for her to beat, but she could do it. Three would be harder than two, but she was good enough to even claim victory over four well-trained men. But more than that would be a challenge to Sango. Perhaps more than she would be willing to engage right away.
With five or more men, she may play the simple maiden, innocent of the vices of evil men. Miroku's gut clenched at the thought of what may happen to a woman as beautiful and good as Sango when held at the mercy of group of soulless bandits.
He trusted that she was smart enough to find a strategy that would quietly take out a few of the men, whittle down their numbers, before she took on the group. Miroku understood that this would take time and could be one reason she didn't raise an immediate alarm: it would have been harmful for her to do so.
As Miroku once again began to imagine the harm Sango could face from such a group of men, his footing failed, his breath hitched, and his heart skipped.
A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth at the disruption in his concentration. He needed to focus on Sango. The evil that men are capable of is limitless. Miroku had known this for ages. He made peace with that fact and reasoned that he only wanted Sango back alive. Everything else, people can survive, can bear, can stand. If she was alive, it was the start of the rest of their future together.
Yes, Miroku thought, a group of men could explain her absence. She would survive. They would still find a way to have a life together.
But while men are evil, they usually want their women alive.
Demons sometimes did not.
A young damsel was once kidnaped by an evil demon who wanted her as his mate even though she was promised to a young, handsome, hard-working, and honest villager. The evil demon took the beautiful young woman deep into the woods where he thought no one could find her. The young villager fought his way through the forest to the secret hideaway. He defeated the evil demon in combat. Sadly, the evil demon had killed the young woman before her beloved could rescue her. However, the strength of the young man's love did not wane as he went about the daily motions of the rest of his life. Because he was so steadfast and true to her, even after her death, the powers that be granted him another life after his first time on Earth had passed. In his next life, he again met the young woman, and it was as though they had always been in love. The young man and the young woman married, had many children, and lived happily until the end of their days.
Miroku knew that he was right: Sango could easily take out most forest demons with a flick of her wrist.
But she had been without her weapons.
Miroku also knew that there were some demons more powerful that most, that had a deadly arsenal that could take out even the strongest taijiya when he or she was traveling alone.
Toxins and poisons could drug a young woman before she could raise an alarm.
Miroku blanched at this line of thought, but forced himself to see it through to the end.
Paralyzed prey was still warm. Demons liked flowing, living blood better than the stale blood of carrion. If a demon had ambushed Sango, had taken her a place to feast before she regained her senses...
The strength went out of Miroku's legs. His breath and heart failed him. A tight band squeezed around his chest and the inside of his throat felt ablaze with fire or acid.
If it was a demon, a powerful demon that had used unfair trickery or illusions, Sango could be dead. Miroku couldn't stop thinking about it.
What if she died? What if she was already dead?
Miroku tried to take some shallow breaths and willed his heart to beat once more. His legs were still made of stone and did not feel attached to his body. He had started thinking this way and he had to see it through to the end.
What would he do if there was no Sango? What did she really mean to him?
It was true that he was attracted to her. It was true that he wanted to spend his future with her. He wanted her to bear his children and be his wife. But he had never really considered what that had meant to him.
He had liked her from the beginning. She was pretty and strong and kind and loyal. As time wore on and they became more familiar, he was never confronted with an aspect of her that he didn't at least respect in some form. And what was even more amazing to him was that she seemed to like him back. She found qualities in him that were redeeming. She strove to correct him into being a good man, a man worthy of her. And he was even more amazed that he was so willing to try to change his ways for her.
Miroku had never really thought what all of this had meant. He had proposed because they made a good match. He wanted a future with her. However, he had not realized how much he had grown to depend on that future being there when they were ready for it.
A life with Sango was his reward for destroying a malignant evil in the world. He would play his game of imagination to try to predict the smallest details of their lives together. He wondered how many children they would have, what their names would be, where they would live, where they would travel, what fights they would have, who would win them, and how much pleasure they would share in simply being together. Miroku had not realized how much he had been counting on this future.
Now that he was faced with a future that may not include Sango, Miroku was finding it a struggle to merely breathe.
Miroku had felt sadness and loss in his life, but recently nothing came even close to comparing to the despair he felt at the possibility that Sango had been robbed from his side.
Fairytales had not prepared him for the very real pain of losing someone loved, even temporarily. It was truly awful.
After a few deep breaths, Miroku pressed on in his search. He would look for Sango for as long as necessary. He knew he would be the one to find her.
Within the hour, Miroku came to a clearing. He had located Sango.
She was sitting on a recently hewn tree stump, staring at her hands, lost in her thoughts. Her face bore the aspect that Miroku recognized as her post-battle memory and critique of events.
Sango's hair was tangled and she had a fresh bruise on her forearm. Her lip had been split and she had a scrape across the knuckles of her right hand.
Hearing Miroku, Sango lifted her head.
She smiled at Miroku. He smiled back at her as the muscles throughout his body unknotted with relief. Sango walked slowly towards Miroku, disguising a limp, and took Miroku's arm to steady her for the trek back to the camp.
No words were exchanged between them. The birds had finally awoken and serenaded the couple as they walked through the forest.
On their way back, Miroku thought up his own fairytale that he would tell his children, Sango's children, one day.
Sango smiled once more at Miroku, seemingly reading his thoughts. Then Miroku knew that when you have a woman as wonderful as Sango, real life far surpasses even the perfect fairytale.
There was once a young damsel who was strong and beautiful. Many evil lords and demons wanted her for their own. However, each time they tried to take her, she would find a way to defeat them. She fell in love with a young, handsome, hardworking, and honest villager. She loved him not because he had saved her from evil, but because he saved her from a life lived without knowing what love really was. She didn't love him because she was indebted to him, but because he was hardworking and honest. She loved him because she couldn't imagine her future without seeing him. The young woman and the young man married, had many children, and lived happily until the end of their days.
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END.