DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own InuYasha or any of its characters. Though I would have a lot of fun with Miroku. So sad.

Hi everyone! This is actually my first ever just Mir/San fiction. I hope you enjoy. I plan to have many lemons and limes in this story, so enjoy those. If you have any questions, PM me. :)

Chapter 1: Open Your Eyes

Sango's tears stung her wound as they dripped onto her bleeding arm. Biting down on her lip to keep from crying out, she held his body close to hers as if shielding him. The sound of the demon's footsteps faded into the distance and she let out a breath. The crimson river flowing from the man's stomach seemed to never end, staining the snow covered ground beneath them.

"Miroku!" she cried quietly, clutching him close to her chest.

His limp body was strewn across her lap; the robes he wore were turning an even darker shade of blue. It was almost a shade of purple and Sango started to wonder if they were always like that or was it from the blood spilling from him. The thought brought on another round of choking sobs. She began to notice the little things, like how his eyelashes were long and full and how his lips were the perfect shade of pink. Bringing her face to rest against his cheek, she tried futilely to stop the blood flow with a shred of cloth she ripped from her kimono.

"Don't die on me, please…"

Lifting her head, she looked over at Kirara who was staring at her waiting for a command. Sango looked back down to Miroku and lifted him out of her lap, shifting towards Kirara.

"Kirara, take him," she paused to take a breath to keep from sobbing again, "I can't carry him, lets find shelter."

-----

The steam of the tea rising from the cup drew a haze over everything in Sango's sight. The strained but audible breathing coming from the critically injured monk lying across a matt was the only thing keeping her remotely sane. They had found a deserted house in the back of the woods, the door left open. After searching the house, Sango came up with the things needed to dress Miroku's wound. She had been doubtful at first, of course, that it would help any but it did. Finally the blood flow had ceased and at least a bit of his color returned.

Standing from her place on the floor, Sango made her way over to him and rested her head on his chest. Something she would never do if he was awake. She began to think about how they had gotten here. How they had lost Kagome, InuYasha, and Shippou somewhere on the other side of the mountain. The fog that had suddenly surrounded the group sent them all into a wave of confusion. They had accidentally parted ways, and the other three were nowhere to be found once the fog had lifted.

Miroku shifted somewhat beneath her and she startled, lifting her head up to meet his dazed gaze. He blinked up at her, his eyes glazed over from his previous unconscious state. Sango began to back away but his fingers wrapped around her wrist and she looked down at his hand.

"Sango…" he muttered in a gravelly murmur.

"Hold on," she said as she freed herself of his grip, "Let me get you some water Miroku."

Rushing to the pitcher of water she had fetched shortly after securing the monk in the house, she poured a glass for him slowly. Turning on her heel, she scurried back, lifting his head a bit so that he could drink. He smiled gratefully at her, sipping the liquid and swishing it around his mouth. As he pulled away, he tried his best to sit up.

"How long have I been out?"

She tried to smile, "A week at the most."

He nodded and searched her face with his eyes, "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"You didn't," she rushed and turned away.

"I'm sorry for assuming that then," he tried to hide the hurt tone of his voice and cleared his throat, lying on his back again.

Sango sighed, her long fingers still wrapped around the glass of water. She tried to keep her eyes from wandering to the reckless monk behind her. Why had he thrown himself in front of her like that? She was a demon slayer for Kami's sake. He was always doing that, throwing himself in danger just to be the damn hero. Only this time, he was nearly killed. Anger gripped her and she almost considered throwing the glass of water at him but decided against it. He was injured enough.

"Rest Sango," she heard him say as he struggled to get up.

Turning quickly, she rushed to his side, "No Miroku, you need to rest. You're still injured."

"I'll survive," he smiled lightly.

A smile almost spread on her lips before she felt a familiar touch on her backside. Glaring at him angrily, she slapped him across the face. So much for that.

"Miroku! Go to sleep you lecher!!"

"But Sango! Touching your perfectly rounded backside makes me feel better! Like a home remedy!"

"Oh shut up!"

...Jeez, Miroku ruins everything. Hah. Please review!!