Title: Conversations to Cause Questions
Rating: K+
Status: One-shot
Time taken: Of the stories I've written so far, this was the most difficult to publish; getting it out (of my head) took an hour, but revision took many.
Background: Lately I am inspired by alternative Sango pairings, and itchy to write them. When I settled on a Kouga cross, I decided to make the "coupling" less important and write it as a confrontation.
Disclaimer: I only own the story concept.
Conversations to Cause Questions -Geraldine Hake
Sango was composing a bedridden Miroku's letter to Mushin when the wolf showed up.
Kagome was not in the village, nor Inuyasha. One glance at Miroku lying unconscious on the pallet, a burning fever brightening his cheeks, and she knew who would have to deal with their guest. It was no task to predict his motive for this visit, and Sango had no personal feelings about the wolf, so she hoped a quick word would shoo him away. She did not want to admit another guest to her home; the small village had had a steady sweep of visitors over the past week, arriving to pay respects; Kaede had passed suddenly, and the village where she had grown up and old was her burial site. Some guests Sango predicted, like the ghostly elegant Kikyou, and the flea Myouga; some had not been; they had not predicted Rin's arrival, grumpy toad demon in tow. Or the over-friendly Ryokan, a good-tempered demon once used by Naraku's shards. Totosai had also come. They were gone now; Miroku had spoken over the grave and consecrated the burial shrine, and the ceremonies were over so that Kaede's spirit could go on peacefully.
Sango put away her materials and greeted her guest. "Kouga-kun," She said. He spotted her with evident relief and he bounded over.
"I didn't think any one was here," he greeted her, with a serious voice that she suspected was playful. She inspected him openly as she waited for an explanation. He sobered reluctantly and said, "I came to pay respects." His thumb jabbed in the direction of the burial site.
Sango bowed. "Then let me lead you to it."
They walked in what seemed an uncomfortable silence on his part. Kouga averted his eyes to anywhere other than his guide or the fresh grave ahead. The demon slayer was not affected, her mind was on her chores, and musing over the translation of a poorly dictated line Miroku that had mumbled. She had accidentally carried the papers under her arm, and took them out to look over as they walked. Kouga said, "So, she's naw here? Where's she out at?" with affected indifferece.
"No, Kagome preferred to mourn with her family. Inuyasha promised to bring her back in a few days."
The reached the spot quickly; it was not far into the woods. He paused, mumbling, "It looks good." Sango nodded in agreement. Kaede's death had come both unexpected and anticipated, but the villagers had done a remarkable job erecting a small shrine under a flowering tree rising just past the hut's borderline. Buds had sprouted around the lump of newly laid dirt and many offerings hung from the branches.
"I thought Kagome might need some comfort or something," Kouga admitted. Then he corrected himself with some embarrassment. "Muttface—Inuyasha, er, well I didn't think he would do it right n'all. Guess she had you, course." She gave him a pleasant look and he relaxed.
"Kagome will appreciate that you came."
"How'd it come about?" He scuffed the dirt with his dirty toe, glancing around the shaded forest as if the culprit were hiding nearby, somewhere under the heavy canopy of leaves. "It wasn't Naraku or that…" Kagura's name was muttered with a curse. It caused a catch in Sango's throat.
In a situation like and unlike her own, Kouga's comrades had been massacred in a fight with Kagura. "Kaede-baba fell into the stream when she was washing the medicinal herbs. Her hip was hurt badly and she caught an incurable chill." Sango noticed that sincere regret overtook his features—she had never seen him wear a look like that. Kouga's laughable relationship with Kagome was all the insight she had ever had into his character. "It is good to know that so many miss her."
"Kagome must be real upset, eh?" His eyes startled her; they were raw with hard emotions. Was he speaking of Kagome or himself? She wasn't unfamiliar to the sting that unrelated deaths sometimes caused--unrelated to those deaths that were so close to the surface of your thoughts, dreams...and speech.
Something possessed her to wonder aloud, "How did you know Kaede?"
His nose wrinkled up and he shook himself off, becoming normal again. "I didn't. That is," he put a finger to his chin as he thought. "I knew the hag a little. But she saved Kagome when I wasn't there—" he squared his shoulders. "So I owe her." Sango considered this with humor. "Oh, how's that kid, that brother a' yours?"
The slayer was taken off guard. She mouthed the words, mulling them over. "Kohaku?" she said, and gave him a blank look.
Kouga grinned, thumbs up. "That's him!"
"He's…he's…still with Naraku. I haven't seen him." Despite the little tearing feeling in her stomach, Sango was touched at Kouga's consideration. The said demon wore a brilliant smile, and still had that goofy hand gesture up. She had the compulsion to wink, but sorrow kept the movement at bay, though she didn't want to sour the mood. She said cheerfully, "Can I expect that, when you slay the evil hanyou single-handedly and take your stolen bride, I should await Kohaku on my doorstep?"
It was Kouga's turn to look a little flustered. "Are you mocking me, yoooukai taijiya?" He warned with fangs exposed. "Laughin' at the man who'll kill Naraku? An' what stolen bride do you mean? My bride'll jump into my arms, baka." Sango rolled the sheaf of papers and slapped his arm with it.
"Watch your mouth," she said. Kouga sneered at her rebuke. He made a grab for the papers and stashed them under his armpit before she could respond. "Your secret lover, Taijiya?" His finger flipped one page's corner over and he screwed up his face as he tried to make out her scrawling handwriting. "Muuushin," he said, pronouncing the first syllable like a cow. Kouga snickered. "What a disgusting name!"
She cast a look at him and turned smartly to follow the path back to the cluster of huts. He followed at distance. "Might have to tell the monk on you. I don't bet he'd want anyone else laying their hands on his woman, no matter how many hands he gets on his own women."
"I don't think so," Sango snipped. Kouga spotted her looking back and flapped the letter obnoxiously. "Houshi-sama is not a jealous man." She said.
Kouga tucked the paper bludgen into his belt and crossed his arms, giving her a flat look and shaking his head. "This is too good; I think I'll keep it to pass on later. Oi! You listening, woman?"
"Do you really want to keep a letter to a drunk old holy man?" She called, suddenly out of his sight.
Without warning a branch snapped forward in a suicidal attack, catching him hard enough in the jaw that the branch did indeed break off and fall some ten feet away. The effect sent Kouga sprawling with a howl of more astonishment than pain. Sango appeared from behind the offensive tree and retreated to where he'd fallen, gathering a few of the scattered sheafs of paper.
The undignified wolf scrambled to his feet, rubbing his back end. "Foul play, Taijiya."
She snickered a little behind her hand. "Precious, Shikon shards or not you still can't keep your feet." He leaned in suddenly, hot, agitated breath pooling against her face.
"Is that a challenge?" Sango blanched, then caught herself and moved in closer, forcing him to retreat a hair's breadth.
Her voice came out dangerously low. "Challenge?"
"Who can keep their feet—" His hand darted forward to grasp her arm, swiftly stepping against her to twist the arm behind her back. Growling, she cut her opposite hand into the side of his neck and hooked one foot around his ankle. In a single spin she'd tugged herself out of his grip.
Kouga's leg shot around to kick her side. Sango turned and caught it sharply with her hip, sending him backwards. She closely ducked another blow, his speed wild. A second later she helplessly predicted that her own would be far too slow to duck out again. He punched her shoulder harder than he'd meant to and she stumbled back wincing, barely getting her hands around a tree to propel her away from his next swing.
"Oh, hiding?" She'd disappeared from his view again. He sniffed, finding her scent seconds too late. His laugh was cut off by another branch falling heavily from the tree above and cracking against his skull.
"Pay attention."
He stomped his shard foot into the ground. "My turn."
The floor of the forest reverberated at the impact. The tree shuddered once and shook her off the limb. With a hard gasp she fell until a last minute hand hold was found, dangling her a foot from his head. She saw his action before he even moved.
"Don't do it!" Kouga grinned and gave her foot a push so that she swung side to side, pendulum-like, the branch creaking ominously. Sango released her hold and landed roughly—dizzy—at his feet. He offered his hand, looking energized from the sparring.
Though disappointed at her easy defeat (and wishing she'd worn more appropriate clothes) she accepted his help up. A knowledge rose to her mind as she caught his hand. She liked this silly demon.
A yowling alarm, to alert that an invader had come upon their small outcropping of houses and fields, cut across the village and surrounding woods. Bellows came from the fields as men fell over themselves to pull their picks from the muddy ground and gather in the center of the town.
Someone had noticed Kouga.
He scoffed, causing a ripple to shiver through the fur of his shoulder armor, and threw his head back grandly to toss his dark bound hair back out of his face. His azurite blue eyes squinted as he glanced around, alert.
"Tell Kagome I was here. Later," Kouga made a jump to escape but she, in throwing her weight at him, successfully yanked his ankle hard enough to knock off his equilibrium and cast him to the ground again.
She stepped on his tail to keep him down. "The letter?" she demanded.
"Itching for another fight, Taijiya?" Sango didn't flinch.
Knowing he could refuse her, Kouga pulled the coveted letter out of his belt and pushed it into her chest. She stepped off his tail.
With her a proud look to annoy her, the wolf prince slapped the dirt out of his fur with both hands and saluted with two fingers. "See'ya, Sango." Then in a cloud of dust that she knew was to cover her kimono in twice as much dirt as she'd gotten on him, Kouga disappeared.
Making her way back with her armful of smeared-ink pages and browned skirts (in much need of stitches and a hard scrubbing), Sango threw one final glance over her shoulder. But nothing could be seen past the woody outcrop of land and smudges of colorful mountain ranges. She let out a miffed laugh and readied herself to scatter the alarmed villagers back off to their rice paddies.
Her mind shifted to Miroku, whom she hoped had not woken to find her gone. All day she had been gathering medicines and cutting vegetables, gradually preparing soup for the hour he might be able to keep down some real food. He'd better still be in bed.
The smell of wolf was still on her papers, bullying her into a train of thought she'd never really breached.
Kouga. She puzzled over whether or not to further confuse things by telling Kagome of his short visit. He'd be back, Kagome needn't hear if it caused any trouble with Inuyasha—he had gone far to make her comfortable in her grief.
The wind stirred up her thick hair; Sango tightened her ribbon tie to secure its hold, reminded of the way Kouga had tossed about his smooth mane. He was so sure of himself.
Might Kagome ever accept him in the way he desired? It was doubtful. Inuyasha would surely be the one to end up with the prize. It could not be Kouga.
But somewhere, Sango predicted, someone might make him happy. He would have to look a little harder. Kagome's sweetness and pretty looks had convinced him to take only her for a bride, and as touching as his concern for her was his immature coveting of the girl would never win her over.
Ah. Sango reprimanded herself for thinking this, she'd only just really spent a moment getting to know him, and she had no right to judge either party. He had proven his goodwill, his sincerity, kindness, and she acknowledged there was a hint of a gentleman in there. She disregarded the fight; she had enjoyed it as much as he.
Didn't he have a right to claim someone that could take care of him when he fell ill?
She laughed at the comparison with herself and the monk. Miroku would be red with jealously to hear her actually pin-point the good qualities of a man, to measure him out.
She would tell Kagome about his visit; he'd spent the time to come, however short it had been. Deserving, she decided. He was deserving.
"Sango?" a raspy voice was calling out urgently. Sango realized with a start that she'd halted in her musings just outside the hut. All that brainpower spent on Kouga, of all people, and she still had dinner to fix.
"Here, Miroku." She ducked inside the sweet smelling room Kaede had kept her herbs in. Her hand found his and patted it to orient him to her whereabouts.
He eyed her in the dark space, and a tired, boyish grin settled against his cheeks. His hand squeezed hers in gratitude.
"Your dress is filthy." She shrugged his comment off and absently dipped her ladle into the soup bowl, entertaining the idea of telling him what had happened. Her smile widened. No, rather let him think what he would.
Miroku reached out and teased a lock of her escaped hair, giving her a mild, questioning look.
"Sorry for the delay," said Sango finally. She grabbed his hand and held it tenderly. "I had a run in with a wolf."