Written for the Miroku/Sango Summer Challenge now ongoing at mirsanficart at LJ for the month of June. The prompt is Heat: Part one of four.
It was one of those days: the kind filled with a sweltering heat that you just could not escape, no matter what you did. They always seemed to drag on forever, so oppressive was the sticky humidity.
It was not a good day to be traveling.
Kagome panted as she pushed her bicycle along, Shippou sprawled limply in the front basket. "So… hot…"
"Quit your complaining, wench," grumbled Inuyasha, his already notoriously short temper worsened by the heat.
"Perhaps we could find a river or something to cool off in?" suggested Miroku. "I could use a nice swim. Of course, you ladies are welcome to join me, clothes are optional…"
"Pervert." Sango immediately replied but elected not to punish him physically. She could barely walk, let alone swing Hiraikotsu at him. Better to conserve her energy for worthier endeavors.
Inuyasha shook his head in disbelief. "Is that all you think about, bouzu?"
Miroku grinned. "Jealous? Perhaps you'd like to join us, then?" A slow blush started over the back of the hanyou's neck, almost invisible against the collar of his haori.
"Keh. Stupid lech."
The monk smirked and pushed back the sleeves of his robes with a sigh, securing them with a length of string drawn from somewhere in the voluminous folds. Sango watched him curiously, noticing the redness of his face.
"Don't you get hot in all those layers?" Angry as she was with him, the slayer could not help but to feel sorry for Miroku: dark-coloured, heavy robes were not the best attire for summer. Her own loose kosode was damp and clinging to her back; she could only guess at how much worse he was feeling.
Miroku grinned in reply, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Thank you for your concern, my dear Sango, but I'm quite fine. I've experienced worse summers."
"Oh." Colour rushed to her face, completely unrelated to the weather; she did not know what to say next. Small talk had never been one of Sango's strengths. Furthermore, conversations with Miroku that did not end with some form of physical punishment from her were few and far in between.
"Don't worry about me," offered the monk, sensing her awkwardness. "With any luck, we'll find some water soon."
Just then, they rounded a copse of trees… and found a rushing brook in front of them.
"Impressive, Houshi-sama," said Sango admiringly. "You must have a sixth sense."
"Good, he'll need it." Inuyasha, his sleeves tied up, strode forward and knelt at the bank. "The other five aren't working."
Miroku pointedly ignored general laughter from his companions, splashing his face with the cool water, sighing happily.
He scooted over to where Sango sat, her feet dangling in the brook.
"My offer's still open," he said, tugging at the knot of his kesa. "How about it?"
Her response was swift but eloquent: without a sound, the slayer seized the front of his robes and tossed him into the water.
"Hey, you don't know what you're missing out on!"
