Warnings: Rated for later chapters, angst, etc.


The Solace of Violent Hands

by queen-of-sinking-ships


...

"And this is the forbidden truth, the unspeakable taboo - that evil is not always repellent but frequently attractive; that it has the power to make of us not simply victims, as nature and accident do, but active accomplices."

- Joyce Carol Oates

...

i.

She was a girl in love, and she was doomed.

Sango knew it, knew it with every fiber of her being, but when it had happened, she didn't care. The monk had groped and laughed and wormed his way in the cracks of her stony warrior's heart (carved by a dead father, a possessed brother, and a burned village, respectively); his cursed touch painted smiles and scarlet over the gray death that had threatened to consume her from the moment she'd clawed out of her own grave. He'd made her whole, he'd made her a woman, made her breathe

(And this is why she was doomed.)

.

.

.

When they are married, Sango thinks, this is now and now I am a wife. Miroku's palm is holy and wholly perfect – especially when it cradles her bare thigh and presses into her hip to hold them together as their bodies break and mend on the floor of a new, newlywed's hut. His mouth is even better, because it kisses oh-so-gently and whispers silly nothings to ease the tension; Sango giggles like the love-struck girl she is, forgetting her fate, kissing him back.

The twins are born in the spring – two girls, much to Miroku's delight. Sango wonders if the irony is as apparent to him as it is to her, or if he's simply in denial.

A few years later, their son is born sometime before Kagome returns from her world; the infant cries during the entire duration of her and InuYasha's wedding (much to Sango's embarrassment), but no one seems to mind, for there are no dry eyes during the ceremony. Kagome says she can't wait to have kids; Miroku lewdly remarks on how InuYasha can't wait to get started.

Sango only smiles, trying to get all three of her children to be quiet, so that she may speak; InuYasha seems to notice, because he grumbles something about letting the twins touch his ears, but only if they shut up, got it? Immediately, the girls comply, fingers eagerly stretching upward, and Miroku continues making jokes, now that the room is quiet.

(And this is when Sango remembers she is doomed.)

.

.

.

This is now and now Sango is a wife, yet she begins to recall who she'd been before now. She remembers whenever Kohaku visits to brings news of his accomplishments, the sickle that carved the scar on her back clinking against his hip; she remembers when her children scream for their father to come kill the spider in the corner of the room, and she cannot breathe until the resounding crunch of eight breaking legs echoes through the wall; she remembers each time the villagers address her as 'the monk's wife, Sango' and not 'the demon slayer, Sango' without a second thought.

The days drag on, the years pass by, but Sango slowly remembers that she was not always a wife, and that she was a girl in love – and before even that, she'd been a warrior, once upon a time when the days were bright and warm and she was just Sango; just Sango with fire in her eyes and no scars on her back; just Sango with a lifetime of promise in front of her; just Sango and her weapons and family and demon blood beneath her nails, why? Because I'm a taijiya that's why, Father always says taijyas don't have clean hands, Sango, don't let them fool you, those clean-handed men, don't trust them –

One evening, Sango feels the familiar bend of her husband's wandering fingers against her shoulder, tugging at frayed fabric it's so cold too cold please stop not tonight while she remains silent. In the back of her mind, her fathers' advice refuses to return to the bones of old memories, so she cannot help but think of just how smooth and flawless and clean her husband's hands have been since their travels had come to a close, even after happily ever after and the end.

Miroku murmurs something that sounds like I love you.

Once upon a time, she was a girl in love –

Sango kisses him gently, sweetly, sinking into the deep, dark cavern of his mouth, imagining that the kazaana was back in his palm.

.

.

.

(And now she is doomed.)


a/n: I've been wanting to post this forever, but I've been suffering writer's block. Please bear with me - I know the direction I'm headed, but I'm afraid I made them a little OOC. Please tell me if I did so/give any suggestions if so. Angst tends to do that.

Personally, I've never bought the idea that Sango would have been like, 'oh, cool, I'm a mom now, no more fighting for me' and just chucked Hiraikotsu to the side. She grew up in a demon slayer village - something her children will not experience. I think there was a sort of selfish darkness within Sango that was never fully explored, but I'm hoping to change that.

Also, Joyce Carol Oates FTW.

Reviews, comments, criticisms, are always greatly appreciated.