Title: Compromise
Rating: T (for safety)
Status: One-shot.
Time taken: I don't know. How long does it take you to stop crying over the end of your favorite series?
Background: In my profile I make a mention of how I only write fanfics when I'm in the right mood. Reading the final chapter of Inuyasha gave me such a feeling of nostalgia that I knew, whether or not I was aware of it immediately, that a writing mood was about to come through. If you'd like to read the final installment, go to adinuyasha(dot)thebrokenconsole(dot)com(slash)TOC(dot)html. This story is loosely based around the chapter details.
Disclaimer: I only own my personal Inuyasha-break-up despair.
(Warning: Spoilers for Inuyasha Epilogue, #558, and chapters leading up to and through the final battle.)
Compromise -Geraldine Hake
The door to the village house scraped along rough wooden floorboards as it opened to the shadow of a broad-shouldered man, standing unwearied in the late-day heat. "Good evening, Sango," the shadow said to a woman bundled in blankets, who lay quietly in the far corner of the room, her reed mat shared with a tiny, sleeping baby.
The woman called Sango smiled; she took his hands as he knelt by her, and kissed his fingertips.
"Rin said that you visited," she informed him. Her home was cool and still. The mattresses of two small beds were pushed into the back corner, and children's toys were scattered around the center of the one-room house. An unused fireplace sheltered one pair of straw sandals, but imprints in a fine layer of dust across the stones showed that three others had rested there recently.
"I came earlier. Yes, I did." The man had a sincere voice. He was dressed well, standing out-of-place in the quaint home. The woman, who was beautiful, wore a home-spun, square-patterned brown and white kimono. Her ebony hair was undone around her thin pillow.
"Kagome reappeared from her country three days ago. We were shocked, and Inuyasha...did you know?" He considered her question with a dry chuckle.
"I did. He's nearly bathed this village in his damn territorial musk; I wonder that he can repress his demonic state. Surely you've noticed the stench? I can smell it from my father's fortress. If Inuyasha is not driven mad with that uncontrollable glee, I'll castrate him just to clear the air." Casually, he added, "I also knew about the birth of your son."
The baby lay curled in his mother's elbow. He reached for the child without remark, caressing its tiny pale cheek. She sat up awkwardly, balancing the small bundle and sliding it into his outstretched hands. Sesshoumaru repositioned it against his chest and looked through the dark. "It is healthy. Good. Where is your husband?"
"The twins needed a bath. I know they're only two, but they can walk as well as I can, and found a dead rodent that Kirara was playing with last night. My darlings tried to "slay" it behind the house, which made a mess on their clothing. This is a terrible age for children."
"Playing with dead animals?" His tone was amused. "Those girls are more demon than slayer."
"It would seem so," she admitted. Though her words were slow with weariness, there was an edge of pride in them. All the town knew that the twins would be warriors.
Sesshoumaru curled a wisp of the baby's blond hair around his claw. Soon it would blacken. Sango's children resembled their human parents. Demon newborns were plump, smooth-skinned and wide-eyed at birth, not unlike small human toddlers—but armed with claws and teeth.
He watched the baby's mother; she returned his silent gaze. Then he rose from the bedside floor and sat at the head of her mattress. Sango remained still until he settled, and leaned into the embrace of his chest and arms when he passed her the child.
He muttered, "Sleep, huntress. You haven't had any rest."
"Miroku is doing so much already; I must have a share in our family's work, and now that he is especially encumbered, it is unavoidable. He cannot help to defend the villagers, make money, provide child-care and fix meals. If I demanded it of him, he wouldn't balance it properly. All the work would be half done. I choose when I am sound enough to help him. I'm not a house-wife. I have a resolution."
"Even to work in this condition?" His grunt sounded disapproving.
"Even in this condition." The slight body of the woman shifted against him into a more comfortable spot. "Goodnight. Please tell Miroku that the twins haven't had their dinners yet. Kaede provided soup, and she has another pot which Rin will bring over later, when they're ready for it."
Not to be dismissed, he said, "It is remarkable how that man trusts you." Though her head was turned, he could see her wide smile in his mind's eye.
"Miroku and I have an understanding." The baby cooed in its sleep. She rolled its rump over and patted its tiny back. "I am allowed to care for you, because he will never stop caring for his past loves. But our relationship is always honest and open." She smiled. Her voice was a whisper. "I tell him everything."
"Woman," Sesshoumaru sighed. He gazed down at the boy in her arms. "You and your husband are the strangest humans I know."
Sango fell asleep before her words were all out. "That is why we are married. I love him like no one else. Someday you will see…"
The light snore in the darkness made the baby whimper. Its hand flailed out, and Sesshoumaru caught it gently between his thumb and forefinger. He thought about its mother's words, and that forbidden look came again. "I don't believe," he stated softly, "that I ever will."
The situation of their marriage, the clashing of their personalities led him to complete confusion. The union did not explain itself. How could he hope to find a partner equal to the one Sango found in her husband?
Despite speculation, no one (with a look at the children Sango and Miroku were already producing in multiples) could say that their marriage was unproductive. The two were in love…somehow.
Sesshoumaru listened for her to fall soundly asleep and then gently moved away from Sango's body. A spot on the floor near the well-swept doorway provided a good listening space to keep lookout for the twins and their father. Mother and brother were peaceful in their late-day drowsiness.
When Miroku entered, a bundle of flowers from an admirer in his right, un-cursed hand, Sesshoumaru accepted the clean toddlers' fervent hellos with good humor, watching the monk place the flowers beside his wife's head. The woman would invariably know the source of where they came from, but judging from what she'd told him earlier, she would not be any less pleased. Miroku invited the polite demon lord to stay for dinner.
How remarkable. The independent huntress and her lecherous monk had made a compromise of it, after all. Love would prevail.
Sesshoumaru accepted the soup. It wasn't bad.
I'm sure I'll hear that this is out of character story-telling. For Sesshoumaru—yeah, sure, but who knows? After the final battle, what with him leaving Rin with Kaede and visiting her every so often, I bet they'd be seeing one another. As for Miroku and Sango, I am actually writing this to mirror my thoughts about their relationship. Instead of getting into an argument over what any Mir/San coupler wants to see (faithfulness, mainly), take a look at Miroku and Sango's relationship. Would he drop her on the spot? No. But would she trust him completely? No. Could they be fair about giving the other space in their relationships? If they agreed to be honest, have a healthy home for their children to live in, and provided each other with the love that they would (ultimately) have, then I think yes.
Miroku is always going to care about women, but he'll love his wife most of all. And Sango will care more about her family than anything else. If she developed a mutual crush on the demon lord, and wanted to maintain the most minimal of feelings for him, like Miroku might do with his girls, then I believe it'd be fair enough. But disagree--I'd like to discuss it.
Thanks for reading, everyone.