Ascension
Nghi
A/N: …. How it will end…. Estimated five chapters, at the maximum.
Summary: (Non-AU) The end of a search. The end of a monster. It was the end of many things, most congratulatory. But it would also be the end of a life.
Disclaimer: ((holds up an American flag)) Sorry, folks. Not from Japan.
"Hello…."
"Hello."
A pause. Soft cricket chirping, small snore from Shippo beside her, and her own chest rising and falling in even patterns. Insert a bit of star twinkling across the sky and Inuyasha taking a good doze and the fire crackling and then— "What's going to happen after tomorrow is done?"
There. Out into the world for everyone else to mull about. A deceivingly casual question. Subdued voice, as usual. Very quiet, with few traces of otherwise unusual emotions that would result in a few odd glances her way. But the question was different, not the fleeting 'Oh, do you think Naraku is going to fall into a pit of rabid bunnies' or 'I'll betcha I can throw Shippo past that tree' or even the latest 'Do you think Kagome is in love with Inuyasha or vice versa because they have a funny way of showing it'. (A cause for blushing profusely at those times.)
This wasn't the type of subject that came to mind in the spur of moment just to continue a conversation ("Good morning, darling! Nice sleep? Do you think you will die tomorrow? Pass the jam and get ready for school!"). It was a matter that built upon itself, manifesting into a monster that gave her many sleepless nights (Beauty confirms this.). But she wasn't stupid- rather, she was quite sharp and aware of her customs on when to act and when to speak up, and a subject approached so laid-back and so casual… well, it just wasn't in her manner, and that was peculiar itself.
More pregnant pauses, followed by a quiet sigh. Even she couldn't hear it, but if the past five years' knowledge served her correctly, he would have sighed by now.
"Houshi?" An expectant tone- she wanted a response.
"I'm thinking of the best one," was the immediate answer.
The pregnant pauses multiplied, and Shippo's pillow knew- intuition! - the huntress was becoming impatient from a lack of answer. After all, you didn't endure five, grueling months of insomnia to unanswered questions that burned in your head only to stop for a few (long!) minutes while a certain monk was composing the best answer he could rack up while in the midst of praying about God knows what.
Finally, after dozens of little baby minutes, he opened his mouth to reply.
"The next day will come."
And she could just tell from his voice that he was proud of that answer, that oh-so smart-aleck answer that the huntress was not craving for. She could just envision his face, poised and confident with a hint of smugness behind the mask.
An audible sharp intake of breath, followed by a sharp smack on the head. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!" Correction- sharp breath, smack, and a hiss. A dog would bark before resorting to biting, but in this case— violence now, compromise later.
"What do you mean then, Sango-sama?"
"You know what I mean!"
"No, I don't," he insisted eagerly. "Enlighten me with your beautiful words on this precarious subject matter."
"Don't push it." Oh Sango, you've just unwittingly opened a path for Miroku to release a grenade onto yourself….
"Pushing what?" Atomic bomb. With just a hint of naïveté. There was, of course, a list of actions to do when faced with an angelic-looking monk and notorious behavior of leading a conversation down the wrong road: 1) Respond (In this case, fluster, open and close mouth like a fish, and sort of flounder helplessly like a sea creature on land.), 2) Scream angry, incomplete phrases that utterly have no real meaning and could have made a sailor and Inuyasha cry, or 3) Ignore the monk and lead the conversation away from the sexual tension buzzing around them.
Number three sounded easy enough, and pretty soon, the sexual tension was only in Houshi's head.
"Where do you think we're going to go… from tomorrow?" She wandered back somewhere onto the straight path again, and it was clear that this question really didn't come out of nowhere- it would have been dropped some time ago amidst the moderate passes Houshi made at her. It was very serious for Sango, the way she reworded the question, the tone in her voice, and the tangible relief that she wouldn't have to feign being unaffected by this, because, in truth, she was affected. It was a solemn moment for her… until she realized how suggestive that question made out. "Inuyasha, Shippo, and Kagome, too, I mean! Hah- we can't forget them, can we?" Hastily added. Surely Sango was turning a lovely shade of pink by now, and it probably wasn't from the light of the fire.
Houshi chuckled at the flustered girl, his mouth curving into an infectious grin. "I didn't know you thought about me that way…." Oh yeah. A dark flush was probably at the tip of her ears.
But eventually, it faded to nothing, and the twinkle in his eyes faded and the smile on his mouth faded and the laughter and the embarrassment in the air faded all into nothing. No, not nothing- it was morose sincerity for the first time that late, starry-eyed evening. And for a while, the feeling settled into the pits of their stomachs.
"Miroku…?" Tentatively. Sango was afraid of agitating him for an answer, that much she knew.
"… Well, it would depend on who you would want to-"
"You." Her voice was quiet when she conversed with him (Save for the violence.), but it ebbed into a near silent voice when she responded with another question of her own before he had even finished his statement.
Very silent now. Miroku was no idiot with a monk sign hanging around his neck- he was very much able in perceiving other emotions. Unfortunately for Sango, her emotions were about as concealed as Inuyasha with his anger. Shifting uncomfortably under the drawn-out silence (And his odd stare.), she added, "And everyone else, too. Just— you first."
Baited breath. Her breath hitched and her shoulders stiffened, and she waited for the Romeo and Juliet-esque kiss or a hug or -throat scratched- a whispered breath -breath started to come out unevenly- or a declaration of love or something -her nose itched- that signaled that they were a couple. She was waiting for them to fall into -a small hitch in the voice- open arms for some time—
Kagome writhed inside her camping bag. And then twitched again, quivered, shivered, and remained still. And she writhed one last time for a good measure before settling down, hoping to anything above the holy sky that the two didn't see her react so violently to Shippo's tail underneath her nose.
"Kagome?" Ah! Sango's voice! She was sleeping, she was sleeping…. "Are you awake?"
No response. Best to play dead… er, safe. After a few minutes passed, and no response came from the sleeping bag, Miroku concluded the wrong thing. "She must be cold. I will go tuck her blanket more securely." Rustle of cloth ready to do a virtuous deed…. (His Words: I'll tuck her in… near her backside.)
"You know what? I'll do that when I go to sleep in a few minutes. It's not really cold outside, really." (Her Words: Don't even think about it, you pervert. I'll tuck her in for her butt's safety.)
Thank you, Sango, thank you.
"All right," Miroku resigned, his back scratching the bark of the tree again. Heartrending acceptance laced his words and another resounding sigh escaped his lips and his eyes began to glaze and— and-
His companion had to smack his arm to snap him out of his reverie. "Oh— right! Where were we?" Obviously, the daydreaming was beginning to interfere with his ability to concentrate during some parts of the day.
"We were talking about tomorrow," Sango reminded him with subtle annoyance. Added almost inaudibly: "I don't know why I put up with your lecherous ways."
Miroku chose wisely not to comment on the last bit. "Well, I'll be living happily in a prostitute house -women, of course!-, you and Kirara will return to your village with Kohaku, Inuyasha will be human and live his life peacefully, Shippo will be adopted by a loving family, Kagome will return to her era, and her bicycle will remain on an alter in the village as a sign to the people that yes, a girl did time-travel back into the past to fight demons with us. And of course- Naraku will die a horrible death, preferably in a fire that should have finished him off more than 50 years ago. That, dear Sango, is how tomorrow will end. Of course, this is only theoretical- that is, if we don't lose." In half a minute, he had described how the group would end up- split apart and going their own ways. His tone was so casual and flippant and the words so serious and steadfast that it was quite impossible to tell whether he was joking or had meant every word of it.
Up until now, Kagome wouldn't have thought of tomorrow, and just hearing one of her more jovial friends speak so negatively about the end plummeted her to more pressing matters than personal love life- how will tomorrow end? From his description, it didn't look very inviting, and she was half-tempted to run back to the well, jump through it, and wake up to school worries, not a life-and-death battle. She curled against Shippo, unconsciously stroking his head to comfort herself.
Sango remained quiet, her posture slackening next to Miroku's upright position. Clearing her throat— "How do you know?" she whispered, swallowing heavily. "How do you know what the future is going to end up like?"
Again, the whole monk meditation thing, where he focused on the question, his hands by his knees. How did he know? Why such a grim ending on the horizon? Shifting once more, he turned to face her and could only muster a strained, forced smile. Finally— "Sango-sama, I do not know- I only predict."
Somewhere within Kagome, she heard something swell and press against her ribcage, and it made it so much more painful to breathe normally like one would.
"Why would you say such a bad predicament?" Sango whispered, and Kagome heard her voice beginning to break and become hoarse and raw. "Why such bad endings?"
"Because it is how I see it."
Her eyebrows furrowed, completing her indignant look. "How would-"
"Would you prefer happy endings? The happily ever after fairy tales that Miss Kagome is so fond of retelling to Shippo?" Bitter. Plain, concrete bitterness that Kagome and Sango hadn't realized Miroku had been suppressing for some time now. "Because I could always lie and tell you that I believe that we will win without any damage to the group. Naraku will rot on the battlefield as his deathbed for unleashing hell onto the grounds. No one will die, and we will still stay together in a group, and Inuyasha will still protect us with his sword, Shippo will stay with us, I will swear off women-"
"-Stop—"
"-You will fully heal over your brother, and Kagome will still time travel back and forth for no apparent purpose. But the only reason why we're all putting so much effort into getting together, into keeping the group the same is because we want to be together. Because we're all friends and we need to stay together for what it's worth. Is that what you wanted to hear, Sango? Was that happy enough for you?" He finished darkly— something flickered erratically within his indigo depths.
Sango looked up at him angrily, her temper beginning to rise. "I didn't say we-"
"-were going to ride off into the horizon on top of horses." He finished her sentence, his eyes latching onto her chocolate, doe ones. "I realize that. But you have to realize that winning against Naraku is impossible." His mouth twisted into something akin to a terrible, morbid smile, and she twisted her glance away, hating him for bringing a possible ending, hating him for not being himself and giving her comfort, and hating him the most for being filled with bitterness that she couldn't stand and didn't want to stand anymore.
"I never wanted a happy ending- I know there's going to be bloodshed. I know we're not going out of this battle unscathed. But don't try to impose what you see in the future on me." A heated answer in response to his dark one.
"But it's honesty. Naraku has always had more of a chance to defeat us-"
"What if we won?" This time, she interrupted him. "What if we won, by some crazy, fool of a chance? Where would you be? Where would Inuyasha be? Shippo? Kagome? Me?" Her chin jutted out defiantly, daring him to take on her challenge.
Miroku laughed mirthlessly, a hollow sound to Kagome's ears, where it continued to ring a broken record over and over. "Do you really want to know where I'll be, Sango-sama? Do you really want to know what I'll do when Naraku is defeated, and I managed to stay alive? Do you really want to know what I'll do for the next ten days? Ten weeks? Ten months? Ten years? I would be drunk on the streets, living off local prostitutes."
Sango flinched, so taken aback by the harsh, grating words, and Kagome, who was not even supposedly participating in the conversation, huddled closer to Shippo, as if it brought some form of security from his reality view.
Miroku ignored her recoiling and persisted in a quiet, steeled voice. "I'd die ten days later from no food, I'd die ten weeks later from all the women leading around me, I'd die ten months later from no home. And I would die ten years later from repeating this over and over. That, Sango-sama, is how my life will be lived. A repeated cycle that will never end."
Kagome could envision the youkai exterminator curl her fingers around the side of her kimono, palms sweating at such a real look of himself, of his life, and of his morals. A forced shudder ran across her spine, and she resisted jerking under the layer of blanket.
"And Inuyasha would become human. He would live somewhere near a village that has never heard of the name Inuyasha before, and he could be the local storyteller, telling of magical battles. Shippo would have a happy, adopted family until he is old enough to become a foot soldier, protecting a nearby clustered village. You are the easiest to predict of. You wanted your brother returned to you, so when Naraku is defeated, he is yours again. And you return to your village to bury the rest of your family and live out your life peacefully, like everyone else. And not only that, but you have your brother for comfort and love." He stopped there. Finished. What Miroku foretold of everyone else- how everyone will end up. So real, so like every other tale that had been told, so every other yarn that had been spun… and sadly, as cold realization ran down her back, it was the most accurate.
Sango let her head nod forward, her hands now clasped tightly in her lap, white and albino. Her lips were her lips, pressed together into a thin frown while her forehead creased, and she just stared at her green, pleated kimono for some time. When she did look up and into his eyes again, her eyes held a small glimmer of hope, of an actual happy ending. But just barely- the truth, all the factors, the most realistic ending… it all impacted her way of thinking. "I still hope we're going to defeat Naraku…."
Miroku laughed at her small optimism. "Don't tell me something so hopeful and look at me like that," he half-pleaded, half-smiled and all the while shifting his entire body away from her. "It makes me envy your faith." The paradox around the short, curt phrase made Kagome want to laugh at his moronic sense of humor, if the bile didn't already rise to the tip of her throat, and she tasted the acid burning her tongue and flesh. She forced the lump in her throat and her growing pity down, pushed it away somewhere else- he did not need any pity from anyone.
This time, when a pause settled within the confines and cracks of the travelers, it was a tense gap, no longer filled with humor and laughter and passes. And when Sango did finally ask Miroku what he thought about Kagome, he answered in the same, dreaded confidence— "I don't know. I really don't. She could continue to travel back and forth. But what would be the real purpose of her returning? Why not just stay in her era? After all, when it ends, there is no need of her to stay here. She has a life on the other side, too, be it whether Inuyasha understands or not. And she had always wanted to come home for studying, for a party, or whatever else suits her desire. Returning here again would only waste her time and effort."
His implications sent Kagome into a spiraling wave of hurt as the words reached full impact. Why would she never return? There was no question, no doubt, no hesitation about it. A piece of her heart was here, and she could never be fully happy, fully satisfied if she sealed the well and just stayed in her time without ever coming back.
Her heart thudded heavily against her ribcage, and a cold, sheet of sweat broke across her forehead as the conversation swirling behind her faded to deaf ears. Miroku's questioning of her actions placed apprehension inside her head, and now she couldn't really sleep. Closing her eyes, Kagome turned his answer over and over in her head, and still nothing. No matter how many times she analyzed it, tried to see past its enigmatic wrap, she couldn't put her finger on what he was trying to lead on. Why didn't he trust her to come back after the battle with Naraku was done?
"I would never leave you…."
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