Good Fortune
-
Sango discreetly hid a yawn as she walked through the mansion, shoji screens to her left and the breaking dawn to her right. She and her group of friends had been offered a stay for the night by the lord of the house, having successfully exterminated a demon that had been buzzing around for weeks, leaving behind very costly damage both to the town and this mansion. It hadn't been the easiest youkai to get rid of; however, once Inuyasha had jumped in with Tetsusaiga, the battle had been over. The townspeople had been overjoyed and, with just a little prompting from Houshi-sama, the lord himself had invited them into his household.
It had been a very comfortable stay and much needed, with the amount of difficulty they had been faced with recently. Sleeping on proper bedding was definitely something that, after so much traveling, she would never take for granted in her life. That, and the no-doubt extravagant breakfast she was heading towards at this very moment. (After all, sometimes the food they could carry with them and the food Kagome brought from her own time did get old after a while.)
Without much difficulty, Sango found the room that she had eaten dinner in the night before and slid aside the screen lightly. Their host was already present with his wife and two daughters, as were Kagome, Inuyasha and Shippou. Houshi-sama was nowhere to be seen.
"Good morning, Sango!" Shippou chirped as she entered the room, closing the shoji behind her. Breakfast had not yet been served. She returned the greeting and took her place beside Kagome with a polite nod to their hosts. No sooner had she taken her seat did the screen open again and Miroku walked in. The monk bowed politely to their hosts.
"Tanaka-dono, for the safety of your household, I have placed seals around the perimeter of your household. That should deter any further attacks on your home for at least a year, maybe two, though after that period I suggest you enlist another monk or priest to refresh the spells, as they can wear out after some time."
The lord's wife seemed rather relieved by this proclamation, though Tanaka himself did not. He seemed the sort of man who did not particularly put his faith in spiritual ability, or was too tight-fisted with his money and goods to particularly care for the cost of protection until it was too late. It was a foolish outlook on things, particularly in a time when demons were running rampant, causing destruction whenever they could. Even so, he managed to thank Miroku properly and the monk settled across from Sango benignly.
This seemed to be a cue for the lord's servants, because they entered with the food then, serving it to each person with a flourish. Taking a moment to thank their host before starting, they all dug in and fell into relative silence. All, Sango noticed, save for the lord's two daughters.
The younger of the pair was on the precarious ledge between childhood and growing up, perhaps eleven or twelve years of age, while the elder was easily Sango's peer. They were whispering back and forth heatedly as they ate, sending furtive looks towards the seemingly oblivious Miroku. Sango's eyes narrowed imperceptibly.
What were they up to? As she watched, the older girl leaned towards her mother and murmured something in her ear. The older woman cast a bemused look at her daughters, before speaking in a hushed tone to her husband.
The lord looked particularly disgruntled to hear whatever had been said, and there were a few moments of indecipherable arguing. Sango chanced a glance towards her friends and caught Kagome's eye. The other girl grinned and shrugged, equally befuddled. A look at Inuyasha revealed the way his ears were tilted towards the discreet conversation even as he shoveled food into his mouth ridiculously. He didn't seem particularly bothered, but that may have been due to the fact most of his concentration was focused on the meal in front of him.
With the clearing of his throat, the old lord drew attention back to himself. He had a pinched expression on his face, as if he could hardly stomach what he was about to say. "Houshi-sama, is it true that most monks are trained in some sort of fortune telling?"
Miroku's eyebrow quirked upwards, but he set aside his chopsticks and smiled politely. "Usually, yes. I myself have some knowledge of palmistry."
"I see..." His frown grew particularly more pronounced. "Perhaps then you would be willing to tell the fortunes of my daughters. They seem...interested...in what may lie ahead for them." It was more than obvious that he thought very little of this interest of theirs, but if Miroku noticed he made no sign of it. His face was set in a polite, unflappable smile, and he seemed almost businesslike, save for the way Sango caught his eyes straying towards the older girl, who was rather pretty.
"It would be an honor to be of service to your family," Miroku said, all seriousness save for the almost imperceptible glint in his eye.
Sango's eyebrow twitched. It figured.
Yet, the two girls burst into giggles, and the lord looked mildly appeased by the compliments, enough so that he gave his daughters a permissive nod. They were by the monk's side in a blink of the eye, palms held out expectantly as if they expected their father to withdraw his consent at any moment.
For his part, Miroku wasted no time in getting started. "Ah, I can already tell that fate smiles on you..."
Sango resisted the urge to glare at him in disgust, instead shooting him a sharp look out of the corner of her eyes. Oblivious, the monk continued to prattle on about how the elder girl would undoubtedly be bearing many sons to her future husband. In all likelihood, he was probably lying through his teeth about it too, and he didn't really know the difference between a line on the girl's palm and her thumb.
Sighing, she set aside her food and excused herself. Though it was rather tempting to stay and make sure her fiancé did not flirt his way into trouble, she doubted he would be stupid enough to do anything under the watchful of his Lordship the Strict. Besides, Inuyasha, Kagome and Shippou were there, and it was her turn to make sure all of their supplies were prepared for departure. So with one last deadly glance Miroku's way, Sango rose to her feet and exited the way she had come.
She didn't notice the curious eyes that followed her as she left.
-
Putting everything away had been easier than Sango had expected. Then again, this was their first stop since setting back out from Kaede's village, so there had not been much chance for everything to get unpacked or disorderly. She was nearly through with reorganizing her own things and taking stock of her extermination tools when the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears, followed by a soft tap on the screen.
"Come in," she called, not bothering to glance over her shoulder as she tucked a tightly sealed jar of powdered poison into her bag. The door slid open softly.
"I came to see whether or not you needed any help."
Sango looked up, trying to push down the instantaneous spark of annoyance that flickered through her, but it managed to worm its way into her voice. "No. I'm nearly finished, Houshi-sama."
Miroku smiled patiently at her. "I am no expert at the reading of minds, Sango, but somehow I feel that you are less than pleased with me. Sure my offer to lend a hand has nothing to do with this?"
"You know," she began, turning her attention fully away from her previous task, "for every hand you offer me with good intentions, there's another I have to ward off from your bad ones."
"Such a harsh statement!" he admonished, feigning shock, his stormy blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "But you didn't answer my question. Are you upset with me?"
Sango looked away, beginning to feel slightly embarrassed from the way he stared at her so intently. There was always something about the way the monk looked at her that got her flustered. Perhaps it was the unique color and intensity of his gaze, or how when his eyes were on her, it was as though his attention was focused solely on her and nothing else. Whatever it was, though, it sent her thoughts scattering and brought a heat to her cheeks that had become all too familiar since Sango had met him.
Regardless of that, however, Sango did know one thing. There was no way she was going to answer that question directly.
"Do you actually know how to tell someone's fortune by looking at their hands?"
There was a rustle of cloth as Miroku sat down beside her. He sounded amused when he answered. "I suppose I do. At least, I know the methods by which I am supposed to be able to tell." Something seemed to occur to him then. "Sango, are you annoyed because I read the palms of those girls?"
Sango huffed and went back to reorganizing her bag with an air of pointed determination. "I don't know what you're talking about, Houshi-sama."
Miroku chuckled and reached out, his fingers grazing Sango's wrist before drawing her hand into his and effectively interrupting her work. "Perhaps Sango would like me to tell her fortune for her?"
There was no hiding the blush that lit up her face. "That's not necessary."
"But I want to," the monk told her, giving her a wry look. "Come on, I'll even make a lesson out of it."
"And why would I need to know how to tell fortunes?" Sango asked dryly. "I hardly have any desire to use it to flirt with pretty village girls, you know."
"Indeed," Miroku sighed in pathetic disappointment. "Ouch! No pinching! Anyway, it would make for something to talk about while I looked at your lovely hands."
Sango hesitated a moment longer before nodding in defeat. "If you insist."
"I do," he informed her cheerfully, tugging her closer gently. She went with his movements, drawing closer so that he could examine her hand comfortably.
They sat facing each other, Sango kneeling and Miroku in his customary cross-legged position, their knees nearly brushing. He traced a finger across her skin, following the different lines that crossed her palm before beginning to speak softly. "It is typically considered traditional to read a woman's right hand, and a man's left, though there are some that look at both palms when evaluating someone's fortune. Generally, most agree that this tradition comes from the continent, as it was from there that Japan learned the art of palmistry from in the first place. Different styles evolved from there, and it tends to be very hard to get one's hands on any of the original Chinese texts."
"Why is that?" Sango inquired as she watched the monk stroke his fingers over hers. He certainly didn't seem to be paying that much attention to her hand otherwise...
Miroku shrugged in response. "I'm fairly certain that most scholars prefer not to admit that their work was borrowed from elsewhere."
"I see." She tilted her head at him, eyes narrowing as she noticed something. "So, are you actually going to read my fortune or are you just trying to distract me and sneak your other hand towards my bottom, Houshi-sama?" The potentially offensive appendage hastily withdrew.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Sango. I am merely trying to explain the important details of this particular art to you," the monk said, winking playfully. "Besides, I was getting to that part. You see this line?" He ran his index finger in a downward curve across her palm, following the line that ran from above her thumb to the base of her wrist. Unlike his previous touches, this one was purposeful. "This is the Line of Earth, and it measures your vitality, the span of your life."
After that, Miroku's finger moved upwards, finding the crease that went from midway between her index finger and her thumb and continued across the middle of her palm. "This is Line of Man, which concerns your intellect and reason. Finally, there is the Line of Heaven." This time he traced the highest line that traveled from the outside of her hand in towards the beginning point of the others. "It is related to your place in the world and your status. It is also said to measure love."
It figured he would say something like that so nonchalantly. "It seems rather complicated," she said, trying her best to sound unaffected.
"Yes, but it gets easier the more you do it, and it requires some memorization to remember all of the details," he admitted. "For example, there are also the fingers to look at when palm-reading."
Sango pursed her lips. "You mean to say that there is more?"
"You make it sound as if it is torture to let me hold your hand, Sango," Miroku chided, provoking another blush from her.
"No, it's nothing like that," she murmured, embarrassed by his frankness. "Continue."
"Where was I?" He returned his attention to her hand, staring at it intently for a few moments. "Ah, yes. The fingers are also important when analyzing a person's fortune. Each finger represents a different aspect of one's life."
"Such as?" Sango prompted.
"Well, going in order, the thumb stands for your parents, the index for any older siblings and your extended family. Next, the middle finger represents you—"
"Oh?" she interjected, sounding bemused. "What does my finger tell you about me?"
Miroku shifted, his knee touching hers briefly. His words were dry, but amused. "Only that you like to interrupt. I'm getting to that part in a second anyway. As I was saying," he continued, raising his eyes to look at her, "the next finger represents your younger siblings."
Sango was suddenly acutely aware of the way he was watching her. It wasn't like his other glances, the ones that made her flustered or caused her heart to skip a beat. Rather, it was an acknowledgement of the fact a mention of Kohaku was potentially unsettling to her, and he was waiting for a sign from her that it was okay to continue. They both knew that it was not necessary, but the sentiment was touching nevertheless.
"And what about the next finger?" Sango inquired, a small smile slipping its way onto her lips like a silent thank you. He returned it easily. As long as you are okay.
"The next is definitely my favorite," Miroku said matter-of-factly, tapping his fingertip against the smallest of hers with a saucy wink. "You see, this finger represents marriage, and more importantly, one's children."
"No wonder it's your favorite," the taijiya commented wryly, eliciting a laugh from her companion.
"Forgive me for my predictability. Perhaps I should tell you your fortune now. Would that make for an appropriate apology?"
Sango raised an eyebrow coyly. "I suppose it could be a start."
Miroku squeezed her fingers once before releasing her hand. He leaned back, resting his weight on his own hands comfortably. "To be honest, you have a horrible fortune."
She blinked in surprise and lifted her palm to eye-level, examining it curiously. "Horrible? How is it horrible?"
"For one, in my reading, I saw that you were strong-willed, stubborn, pretty, and an excellent fighter who is destined to tempt any poor, nearby monk with your beautiful..." He cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring the warning look she gave him. "...face. Also, you're going to have a long, happy life and ten, maybe even twenty, children."
Sango shook her head in mock disgust. "Truly horrible," she agreed. "Though I think the worst part would be if my children turn out to be anything like their father."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Miroku demanded, sitting up a bit straighter. His expression was almost comical as he tried to appear innocent, as if that were going to convince Sango that he had just been attained Enlightenment or something equally silly.
"Exactly what it sounds like," Sango countered with a giggle, turning to put away the last few loose items that were scattered around. This was fun and they didn't have nearly enough of it together, which made times like these so much more sweet. "So, is there anything else I need to know about related to my fortune? Because it sounds to me that you just told me everything you thought I might like to hear without actually deciphering my hand...or is that the trick?"
He clapped a hand over his heart dramatically. "Sango, you wound me! Do you truly think I would trick anyone like that?"
"Let me think..." Sango rubbed her chin as though she were thinking. "Yes, Houshi-sama, I very much think that you would." He laughed at her conviction and they lapsed into comfortable silence as Sango tidied up their pile of supplies. Finally, she let out a sigh and leaned back on her heels.
"Is something the matter, Sango?" Miroku inquired, noting the way she had caught her lower lip between her teeth—it was kind of cute, but he chose to keep that observation to himself.
"Hm? No. I was just wondering..." She paused, trying to formulate what she wanted to say. "Have you ever had your fortune told, Houshi-sama?"
"No," he replied honestly. "Not once."
Sango tilted her head to the side, her long hair spilling over her shoulder. "Why not?"
The monk seemed to weigh the question in his mind, his cursed hand fisting surreptitiously beneath his sleeve before he shifted and stood with a grunt. He paced over to her and held out his hand, an offer to help her to her own feet. Sango took it without hesitation and she found herself looking Miroku in the eye.
"You know, I'm surprised you have to ask. Personally, I already know my future," he murmured softly. Stunned, Sango watched as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a warm kiss just above her knuckles. "After all, Sango, it's the same future as yours."
She could have sworn at that moment that her heart fluttered in her chest.
"Houshi-sama..." she whispered, only to have the words die in her mouth. "Houshi-sama, where is that other hand of yours at?"
He coughed nervously, and the warm hand on Sango's bottom quickly lifted to her waist. "I do apologize, Sango, but sometimes I just can't help but admire your finer att…" He trailed off in surprise as the taijiya burst into fits of laughter. "Sango?"
Sango shook her head, speechless due to the giggles that were spilling out of her. Before long, the laughter proved itself contagious, and Miroku found himself joining in with her and that's how their friends found them several minutes later.
At that moment, Sango knew that if she had a good fortune at all, it was because of this man in front of her. As lecherous and carefree as Miroku was sometimes, when all was said and done, there was no one better that she could picture a life with. (Besides those ten or twenty children she had promised him, of course.) Even though at times he was bound to drive her mad with his antics, Sango was certain of one thing: it was worth it.
There was nothing that would ever convince her otherwise.
-
Author's Note: To be honest, of all the fanfics I've written, this is definitely one of my favorites. I just figure: Miroku uses palm reading as an excuse to flirt several times throughout the series. Why not read Sango's palm? Never mind he'll read whatever he wants into it... ahem.
Originally posted January 2007