Author's Note: Written for Corisu for the 2009 Secret MiroSanta fic exchange. ^^ I do not own anything except the half-baked plot. All prompts used, yay! And oh yes - hopefully everyone had a Merry Christmas :D

Sango was still having trouble adjusting to the reality.

Naraku was dead, the Shikon jewel purified and vanished from the world, Miroku's Kazaana nothing but a bad memory when only less than a week ago she was ready to lose herself to it.

The sound of the wind was now harmless to her.

Kohaku was a young man who had grown up right under her nose and become independent; all in spite of her. He had his own life (which actually suited her quite well, now that she was beginning a new one with her lecherous monk). He was gone now, along with Kirara, on a mission to redeem himself – a task she felt unecessary. But she had seen the the familiar stubbornness and she had given him her blessing – reluctantly.

Even as her world fell into place, Sango could not help but feel sorry for her two best friends whose worlds had collapsed.

Inuyasha had refused to tell them anything more about Kagome's whereabouts other than that she was safe and well, burying himself in his silent grief and sorrow. This, more than the loss of her dearest female friend, had broke her inside more than Sango was prepared to divulge; knowing that this loose end had yet to be tied up, the other end of the thread lost forever.

The hanyou had disappeared into the nearby woods not long after and refused to come out. They understood his need to mourn for her alone and let him be; he would return when he was ready. Shippou, also mourning Kagome's loss, had nevertheless left the village to train for the next kitsune youjutsu examination. Leaving her and Miroku dangerously alone together.

Complicating matters was her upcoming marriage – she hoped.

Miroku had promised her a life together with him someday on the bank of a faraway village; someday became soon as they flew into uncertainty. Both times she had clung to the precious little slivers of hope.

And yet he had pushed her away; he had run from her in Naraku's body, barely a few hours after proposing marriage to her again. Even when there was no need for him to hide, Miroku always stepped back, stepped away, stepped out. He had not said as much as a word to her, not since Inuyasha had returned alone and the excitement of the battle had dissipated; no apology, no reassurance, nor not something as much as an I love you.

Sango had wanted to tell him about their kiss the first chance she got but those guarded violet eyes – as closed-off as they had been when they first met – stung her into keeping her silence.

Help me, Kagome-chan, Sango pleaded with the silent old well. Tell me the words to tell him everything.

Was it her? She felt all the old fears and insecurities begin to stir from their graves; Sango dismissed them almost immediately. It was not like that any more. The bond between her and Miroku was far too strong to be broken by one woman's petty worries. He would have a good explanation for his reticence – she was sure of it.

Just when she was about to return to the village to face him, a commotion along the dusty road caught her attention. The tall, distinctly arrogant man in the saddle leading the procession sent a bolt through her heart.

Kuranosuke?

Miroku immersed himself in his meditation; his still-gloved hand resting on one knee. So much had happened for him to process, he was resorting to emptying his mind to deal with it: Naraku's death. The broken curse. The newly-appeared years of life stretching ahead of him...

... His promise to her.

Despite his happiness, all Miroku could see was the anguished face of Sango as he turned and ran from her. The Kazaana was going to consume him; he was doing the right thing to prevent it from taking in unecessary victims.

But the memory of her hurt cut him deep.

He had left her; that was all there was to it. Abandonment – simple and cold. Before that fateful day a week before, Miroku had never believed himself capable of leaving Sango.

The cloth of the glove chafed against his intact palm; he wondered why he had never noticed it before.

She had been avoiding him since Inuyasha's return. The monk, in turn, had not brought up his last words before they entered Naraku's bowels.

What right did a man who had left his fiancee even before they had been married have to return to her side and promise her a future together?

And still, somehow his heart broke each time she neglected to talk about their supposed-to-be-soon marriage. Miroku guessed she agreed with him on some deep level. And having long ago fallen into despair, his soul died a little more each day.

A bustle outside; the harsh sound of soldiers tramping on packed earth. Kaede's voice spoke, telling the newcomer about Naraku's death.

There was something about the newcomer's voice which prickled familiarity.

For the thousandth time that day, Kuranosuke wondered why he had made a detour through this insignificant village. It was clearly recovering from a disaster; scorch marks were everywhere. Hollow-eyed, beaten-down people peered at him from their darkened ruined homes without curiosity.

He was on a quest for answers to the ways of the world; the kamis alone knew how he was going to find that here.

"My lord..."

"Speak." He pulled his horse up smartly.

His retainer stood straight, nodding at the monk which traveled with the party. "Shingen-sama says there is an evil youkai presence about this place, though it is mostly faded."

"And?"

"Something of significance has happened here," added the man eventually.

Kuranosuke nodded and dismissed them. Wheeling his horse around, his eyes scanned the gathered villagers. "Greetings, miko-sama," he said presently, picking out the only person there who radiated the slightest sense of authority. "I am Kuranosuke, lord of the Takeda clan. What has happened here?"

The aged priestess looked back at him through her one good eye. "Greetings, Takeda-sama. I am Kaede, the priestess of this village. An evil demon named Naraku met his end here barely a week ago. Since he was so powerful, his death rained poison and destruction on this nearby village."

"Oh? A pity – I would have liked to see such a feat." A sudden smile crept over his face. "Were any demon slayers involved in this feat?"

She blinked, a flicker of surprise disrupting her composure. "Ye are well-informed, my lord. Two taijiya, the last of their clan, battled bravely alongside their comrades."

He leaned forward in his saddle, struggling to hide his growing excitement. "Last of their clan, you say?"

She appeared then; clad simply in her peasant's clothing and earthy beauty. Kuranosuke had always felt Sango had an excellent sense of timing. Out of the corner of his eye, he heard her faint gasp of surprise, saw her beautiful eyes widen.

"Sango!" He leapt from the saddle, ignoring the small cries of alarm from his men and taking her hands in his. "I've found you again!"

"Ku – Kuranosuke-sama." She blushed prettily, lowering her gaze. "It's good to se you well... What brings you here?"

"When you left that day, I thought about what you said," answered the young lord staunchly. "There is a lot going on in the world which I do not know and cannot possibly as long as I remain cloistered in my castle. Hardships, impossible quests, impassable obstacles... they are not exactly common fare for a lord." His eyes crinkled into a smile. Surely it was too much of a coincidence to meet her again; this was destiny's message.

"I promised myself that I would try to understand what you spoke of; what it meant to suffer, what the world was really like. I seem to recall my words then failed to impress you."

She was blushing harder. "Kuranosuke-sama..."

"I have accomplished my mission, Sango. Have you?"

She was spared from answering by the jingling of a familiar shakujou.

Miroku inclined his head. "Kaede-dono. Takeda-sama."

"Houshi-dono," said Kaede. Her one eye flicked back and forth, taking in the entire situation.

Sango pulled her hands out of Kuranosuke's hastily, clenching them in her skirt. "Hou – houshi-sama." The young lord's eyes glimmered in recognition.

"Houshi-sama, it is good to see you again."

"Likewise, my lord."

"Would it please my lord to take refreshment in my humble hut?" interrupted Kaede, breaking the awkward silence that had descended. "I apologise for the rude hospitality – "

Kuranosuke inclined his head in her direction. "It would be my honour, Kaede-sama."

Inside Kaede's hut, the young lord occupied the prime place at the head of the hearth; Miroku and Sango sat on one side, Kaede on the other. The elderly priestess was worried to note that there was a palpable barrier between the young engaged couple, depite the outward show of proximity.

"I have heard tales of this Naraku while on my travels," remarked Kuranosuke abruptly, addressing Kaede. "A most devious hanyou who sought the Shikon jewel and a few years ago, wiped out the entire demon slayer tribe... save for two survivors."

Sango gasped softly. Under normal circumstances, Miroku would have offered her his support; whether by moving closer or even being bold enough to take her hand.

But he was strangely passive this time, his gaze fixed firmly on the lord. Kaede appeared momentarily befuddled, but it quickly passed.

"Why did you not tell me, Sango?" asked Kuranosuke gently. "I would have helped you retrieve your brother – all you needed to do was ask."

"I did not want to burden you with such matters..."

"Come now," he said genially. "What is the good of my power if I do not use it for others? Even if it was not your brother, Sango, Naraku was a threat to the wellbeing and peace of my people. I am honour-bound by my station to protect them."

"A noble lord indeed," said Miroku softly, sipping his tea. Kuranosuke nodded in his direction. "Thank you, houshi-sama," he acknowledged without a hint of sarcasm.

Sango bit her lip.

The lord reached for her hand, his fingers grazing her skin of her knuckles, tracing the outline of her wrist. It was a boldly intimate move which was not lost on Miroku. "Have you done what you set out to do those two years before, Sango?"

She stole a quick glance at Miroku. "... Yes."

" I swore that day that I would never give you up; I have waited for you all this time. Sango, I will have no other woman but you." His fingers curled around hers. "Again, I ask of you: Return home with me and become my wife."

How ironic, she thought, that the right words were coming from the wrong man. She glanced at Miroku, a half-smile forming on her lips, waiting for him to protest, to tell Kuranosuke she was spoken for.

He closed his eyes and sipped his tea. Sango's heart stopped.

Kaede shot the monk a sharp look.

"My lord, it is late," she said, hoisting herself to her feet. "Perhaps Sango can give ye her answer tomorrow." The added emphasis on the word and the accompanying (not very discreet) glare in Miroku's direction made Kuranosuke smile.

"I agree, Kaede-sama. Perhaps it is a bit too hasty for me to bring up marriage at such short notice." He got to his feet and strode outside to where his men were camped on the outskirts of the village.

"Make camp here. We shall be spending the night here; assemble at sunrise," he ordered. They bowed. "Yes, lord!"

He watched them bustle about, preparing his lodgings for the night. Sometimes, Kuranosuke wished he was not a lord. It seemed there was so much he was missing out on. What was the use of money, power and lands when they could not even secure him the heart of the woman he loved?

And he wondered what Sango saw in the monk.

To say Sango was furious with Miroku was perhaps the grossest understatement; more than anything, she was not only angry, but bitterly disappointed and hurt.

He had saved her inumerable times, he had comforted her in times of sorrow, he had asked her to marry him... but he had not fought for her.

Sango had never meant to fall in love, let alone with this lecherous, cursed monk. But fallen in love she had, and they had been engaged to be married once Naraku was dead.

Naraku was dead and things had not changed in the slightest.

She let the tears fall. Casting a furtive glance at him, she dabbed them away with her sleeve.

Just when Sango thought she understood him, he had pulled back and brought them both back to the start. As though the times they had shared were nothing.

She had forgiven him then for leaving her behind; she would forgive him anything. But she could not forgive him for giving up, especially when she never had.

Everything was crystal clear now; Sango knew why he had not said anything. He did not want to marry her after all.

The slayer only wished she knew what she had done to deserve it.

Sango was furious at him. Miroku watched the rigid line of her back miserably, seeing the hurt that permeated her anger as well.

Now she was crying again. He pretended not to notice when she glanced at him before wiping her tears and longed to wipe them away for her.

It had been unforgivable of him to have not spoken up for her; even he knew that, but he had his reasons for doing so, seeing the honest untainted love that shone in Kuranosuke's eyes...

The lord would surely not hide his feelings from her. He would love her completely, deeply and truly until the day he died. He would be faithful and true.

Kuranosuke would not abandon her.

Kuranosuke would not take the heart she had entrusted him with and crush it under his heel.

It was because of these few simple facts, Kuranosuke would make a better husband to Sango than he would ever be.

Perhaps Kuranosuke even loved her as much as he did.

He doubted it, though.

The suffocating atmosphere inside her home was affecting even Kaede greatly; even though she was completely unaware of what had passed between the two, she sensed there were some unresolved issues behind the obvious.

She took a deep breath. "Miroku-sama." He glanced up, a little surprised the elderly miko had used his name.

"Your behaviour today is most peculiar," remarked Kaede. She was being deliberately vague; hopefully, one of them would provide an explanation for the entire affair.

He looked as though he would say something but thinking the better of it, poured himself another cup of tea.

Just as Kaede was racking her brains for something else to say, Sango stood up.

"I'm going outside for some air," she said in a trembling voice. Sango stormed outside into the cool night, away from him. Miroku gave no sign of being affected, save for the trembling white-knuckled hand around his teacup.

The miko shot him a look, wishing for the thousandth time Kagome was here to sort out the entire mess. "Go after her."

"I cannot."

"Then ye are a bigger fool than I thought ye were."

"No, not a fool. A coward."

Kaede's eye blinked in astonishment. "What has happened between you two?"

Miroku lowered the cup. "I left her alone because the Kazaana was about to consume me – and she nearly killed herself going after me. She wanted to die with me..." He closed off his face to hide the tremor of emotion. "I can't be with her. I see that now. She deserves a better man, one who won't keep pushing her away – one that will keep her safe."

"And how do you know this? Have ye asked Sango?"

"I..." Miroku's mouth hung open momentarily; he closed it. "This is for the best."

He was aware of a indistinct thud outside –

– the sound of footsteps –

– a hand gripping his shoulder –

– and wheeling him around, the other hand punched him in the jaw.

Kaede gasped. "Inuyasha?"

The red-garbed hanyou scowled, hauling Miroku upright by the front of his robes. "Say that again, bouzu. Eh?"

The monk ignored him, rubbing the purplish-black bruise beginning to form on his jaw. "You don't understand, Inuyasha."

"Oh, I think I understand pretty well," sneered his friend. "You're gonna let Sango go with that bastard. I'd never have expected this from you after everything that's happened, you fucking idiot."

"She deserves better – "

"The hell you think you know she does!" yelled Inuyasha. "What was that you told me at Yakurou Dokusen's place – that you got to choose how to live? You drank that poison so you could fight with Sango and keep her safe! And now you're gonna give it all up like a fucking coward?"

"This is not about that, Inuyasha," said Miroku coldly. "This is about something else entirely."

Inuyasha hit him over the head again. "Fuck that – and fuck you. You two still got each other, why can't you appreciate that, you self-centered bastard?"

The monk's face stilled, the mask dropping momentarily. "Inuyasha..."

"Inuyasha, that's enough," said a soft voice. Sango walked back in the hut and sat down. The hanyou snorted but let go, folding his arms over his chest.

"How long have ye been back, Inuyasha?" asked Kaede, finally able to get a word in.

"Long enough to know what's going on," he growled. "Of all the stupid things..." The hanyou shot a furious glare at an ashen Miroku; the monk's gaze was still riveted on Sango.

"Houshi-sama?" She stared at him; he lowered his gaze, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

"... How much have you heard?"

The slayer bit her lip. "... From Inuyasha's shouting onward." Sango reached out to touch his swollen jaw, her fingers gently tracing the outline of the injury. "Houshi-sama..." The words faltered and died in her throat.

There was an almost desperate look on Miroku's face. "Sango – you understand, don't you? I can't forgive myself for leaving you behind."

"Idiot!" she shouted. Inuyasha's ear flicked and Miroku flinched, waiting for the inevitable slap – that never came. "Wait – is that all?" Sango asked in a much quieter voice; it hurt him worse than any blow of hers ever had. "This is about what happened in Naraku's body?"

When the words were laid out in front of him in her blunt manner they seemed so foolish and inconsequential.

"Yes, Sango." The monk finally found the strength to look up. "What I did was – unforgivable – and I almost got you killed."

He dropped his gaze. "I only hope you can forget it – and me – eventually."

This time she did slap him. Her hand hung suspended at the end of the arc that included his face; exquisite agony began to run through his already abused cheek.

"What is the matter with you?!" she cried out in exasperation. "Not again, Houshi-sama! You've done this before and I'm sick of it! What happened between us?"

"Do you think I can forget the fact that I left you alone?" Miroku ground out. "It's not that simple, Sango. Don't you see the irony; I left behind the woman I was supposed to be marrying as soon as we killed Naraku! I couldn't even trust you when you told me you wanted to be with me despite the Kazaana... despite knowing I could have died and taken you with me."

Inuyasha snorted loudly. "Fool."

Sango stared at Miroku in utter and complete astonishment. "Fool," she echoed but with none of the contempt and anger the hanyou had used.

Kaede frowned and slowly got to her feet. "Inuyasha, may I speak with ye outside for a while?" she said pointedly.

"But – "

"Now."

His lip twisted into a snarl – but he got up and followed the elderly miko outside, casting a last baleful look at Miroku as he walked.

"What was so important we had to go out, babaa?"

She nodded in the direction of the hut. "They need to work this through on their own – although ye have made your point clear enough, Inuyasha, it is not our place to meddle in their private affairs."

They remained in silence for a while more after Kaede and Inuyasha had left; Miroku with his head bent, eyes fixated on the hearth, Sango's wistful gaze on him, softened with unshed tears.

"Houshi-sama, I – "

"Forgive me." He raised his head. "I was selfish to want you all to myself."

Sango gave a start. "What?"

"That time before... I had wanted you to be happy, Sango. I still do. But you can't find happiness with me – "

"What are you saying, Miroku?" she whispered softly.

Shut up, idiot, before you make things worse! shouted his mind.

"I..." His normally glib tongue seemed turned to lead in his mouth; Miroku struggled for words that would not come, the right ones that would deflate the suffocating tension.

But what were the right words?

She watched him struggle dispassionately and Sango abruptly tired of the games they were playing. Side-step, side-step; dodge, duck and fall.

"Houshi-sama." It was more a command than a request for his attention; Miroku glanced at her.

"Do you know what I want?"

From the way his mouth hung agape in surprise, she gathered the question had completely thrown him off guard.

"Sango – I – what?"

She sat perfectly still, her face as rigid as her body. "All this guilt over leaving me alone, Houshi-sama... and without considering what I did in there, trying to get back to you." Sango looked him right in the eye, not a single trace of hesistation in her own. "I nearly killed Rin. I saw Naraku and the Shikon jewel holding her hostage – and I threw Hiraikotsu, knowing full well it would have killed her."

"Sango..."

'I promised Sesshoumaru my life as atonement," she continued, as though he had not spoke, "but only after Naraku had been defeated and your curse broken." Sango stared hard at the fire. "Though I don't know why he has yet to claim it."

"Sango!" Miroku staggered forward on his knees, clutching her wrist like a drowning man. "You didn't tell me – l"

She offered him a watery smile. "Hardly the most honourable thing for a taijiya, isn't it? So willing to sacrifice an innocent girl?"

"You did it for me..." The monk's heart was crushed with despair, imagining what she had been going through; alone in the depths, terrified for his life, desperate, so very desperate to reach him before it was too late...

He pulled her tense body to his, gripping her waist. "Sango..." Slowly, she returned his embrace, willing herself not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm sorry I didn't know. I'm sorry for everything I said."

"Miroku, does this mean – " A spark shone in the slayer's eyes.

He pulled back in mild surprise – and surprisingly, reluctance.

"I'm keeping my promise – that is, if you'll still have this foolish monk." He sobered abruptly. "Sango – I didn't know exactly what happened in there and I never bothered to find out." His hand closed around hers, squeezing it. "But we're going through this together. I'll be damned if I hand my wife over to Sesshoumaru without a fight."

As his words sank in, she slumped bonelessly against him, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry. "Miroku, I..."

His thumb caressed the back of her hand – and no further words were needed. Sango remembered how much she had missed his touch.

And the guilt that had weighed so heavily on her heart dissipated a little. True, Sango would not be able to look at Rin without feeling it press into her soul; the cold demon lord Sesshoumaru held her life in the palm of his hand; but she could say with conviction she was no longer alone.

Kuranosuke knew, even before they had come to him, hand in hand. He read it in the set misery and regret in Sango's face; the face she wore when hurting unintentionally. It was apparent in the deliberately blank face of the monk.

He was an excellent judge of character, after all.

The night of waiting had been long and lonely; waiting, wondering and wishing for what he knew was the eventuality. Kuranosuke rose to his feet, raising a hand as Sango opened her mouth to speak. His gaze darted from the unhappiness in her eyes, alighting a while on the monk's bruised face with a trace of curiosity.

"I know, Sango," said the young lord gently, refocusing on her. "I will respect your wishes – your happiness comes first."

"I – I'm sorry to do this to you again, Kuranosuke-sama..."

Magnanimously, grandly, Kuranosuke smiled and relished the curious sensation in his chest, of his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. It had been a folly to have fallen in love; he had simply fallen. He patiently accepted it as part of the ways of the world he had eagerly set out to seek.

"Goodbye, Sango. Farewell, houshi-sama. I wish you both every happiness." One of his retainers brought his horse then; the lord mounted it and gazed down at the couple for what he knew was to be the last time he would see them. "Be happy."

At a barked word, the columns of soldiers straightened and they took off in a steady trot down the dirt road leading out of the village. Sango and Miroku watched quietly as the last gleam of sunlight playing off the lacquered armour faded away into nothing.

"I hope he finds his own happiness," she murmured.

Try as he might, Miroku could not summon anything genuine for the proud young lord; his gaze slid to the red-garbed figure seated in the branches of his favourite tree.

"So do I."

They had their ceremony three days after; the only guests were Shippou, Kirara, Kohaku and (at the last minute) a gruff Inuyasha.

After the formalities were all over, Miroku walked over to the hanyou, jug of sake in one hand, and offered him a cup. "Thank you, Inuyasha."

"Keh." He accepted the cup and downed it with little grace. "Idiot."

The newly-married man bore the insult patiently – he understood how his friend was feeling. "How long will you be staying this time?"

Inuyasha stared up into the night sky. "Probably going to be hanging around a while. The babaa's getting senile and somebody's got to make sure she doesn't freeze her ancient self to death this coming winter." He sneaked a look at Miroku out of the corner of his eye. "You two're probably going to be too busy rutting."

Even Miroku blushed at that – though there was a knowing smile on his lips. "I'm sure Kagome-sama will come back one day."

"Feh."

The monk refilled both their cups. Picking up his with a bare right hand, he swirled the clear liquid. "Wherever she is, Inuyasha, I know she misses you as much as you miss her."

Inuyasha glared – though there was no real anger in it. "... If you're quite done talking, bouzu, you can bug off. I'm sure your wife's waiting for you."

He grinned, emptying his cup. "I'll leave this with you," said Miroku, tapping the jar of sake. "It's going to be cold tonight, especially if you're planning on staying near the well."

The hanyou snorted loudly.

Their hut – a wedding gift from the village – sat on the outskirts, close to the Bone-Eater's Well. A single flickering light winked at him.

Miroku exhaled softly as he entered. "So this is what it feels like to come home," he murmured.

Sango was bent over the hearth, poking the embers. "Did you say something, Miroku?"

"No, nothing." He pulled off his sandals, slipping an arm around her waist from behind and resting his chin in the crook of her neck. Apart from a momentary stiffening of her back, the monk was pleased to note she did not shy from his touch, but snuggled into his warmth.

"... Miroku?"

"Hmm?"

She gently eased him away, a magenta blush creeping up her face. "I... we..." Her fingers alighted on the knot of his kesa, tentatively tugging at the fabric.

Miroku understood, chuckling softly. "We don't have to now, Sango – not if you're not ready for it." He gathered her hands in his, pulling her properly into his embrace.

"For now... let's just stay like this."

He felt her nod into the crook of his neck, her hands fisting in his robes; Sango's breath tickled against his cheek.

And they both were finally home.