An Inu-Yasha fanfiction by shineysun
April 11, 2004
Summary: Love found, love lost, love regained. A Miroku/Sango story.
Disclaimer: Inu-Yasha is not mine in any way, shape, or form. Only this story's plot and its execution belong to me.
Author's Notes: My first IY piece. I hope it's not too shabby; I wrote it in one sitting after a fit of inspiration.
-------
The epiphany came after Kagome and Inuyasha had left through the well to her world for good. I was crying by the river, and you suddenly appeared behind me. I didn't even hear your footsteps… but then again, I never did. I don't know how long I sat there crying without realizing that you were behind me. Then suddenly, I smelled you. And then you put your arms around my midriff. And they stayed there. And you leaned your head against my back and let me rest on you. You didn't ask any questions.
We sat in that position for hours. The river trickled slowly by us, painting the soundtrack of peace. A butterfly hovered nearby, sprinkling pollen and love. But I noticed none of that. All I could feel was your arms, so safe and warm, protecting me. And then I started musing. "Miroku," I said. "Do you remember the first time we met?" I felt your head move against my back. I couldn't tell if it was a nod or a shake, but it didn't matter. You moved. You were alive. You were with me. "I remember thinking, What a stupid looking monk." I felt a puff of air against my back. Laughter? I stared up at the endless canopy of stars. And then you replied, your first words to me all week, "I remember thinking, What a beautiful woman." The stars twinkled down at me, as if chuckling at my naïveté. A lifetime later, a moment later, I blushed, but you couldn't see. My heart warmed to those words, but you couldn't feel. My pulse quickened, but you couldn't notice. My soul jerked and realized a truth: I loved you. But you couldn't know.
We talked of mundane, inane things for hours upon hours. The stars disappeared and the blushing rose dawn took its place. We changed positions, so that I was spooned up against your side. We talked in a half-doze the entire night. I couldn't remember ever feeling happier or more cherished. I love you, Miroku, I wanted to say. I wanted to whisper it into the crystalline, pure air of the early morning. I wanted you to know beyond any doubt. I was feeling a woman's love for a man. I love you, Miroku. I love you. Love.
But I didn't tell you. I couldn't muster up the courage to say three little words. After all we've gone through, in the end, three little words were my downfall. Too soon, the sunrise greeted us. You untangled yourself from my mass of hair gently, too scared to pull even one hair. And you didn't. I smiled at you, and you smiled back. It was the most beautiful thing in the world to me.
We ate breakfast in an amiable silence. The mood was too special to stain with spoken words. Then we sat across from each other and stared. At each other, at nothing, at everything. My heart bursting into fireworks.
Then we set out on the road, looking for a future. You stopped asking women to carry your child. You think I didn't notice, but I did. At night, you slept closer to me, "to protect you, dear Sango," you said. But I didn't believe you. My heart smiled. At mealtimes, your hand brushed mine accidentally when you reached for more soup. You think I wouldn't feel it, but I did. You stared at me when you thought I was asleep. You thought I'd never catch you. And I didn't. Because I liked to think I indulged you in that secret. And my love for you cemented. It became the foundation on which my life from then on was built.
You never did stop touching me, though. I yelped and hit you every time. You stopped after two months or so of it. I expressed relief, but inwardly, I mourned the loss of your touch.
Every evening after dinner, we would sit down and talk. "How do you feel right now, Sango?" you would ask me. "I feel like a bird," I would say, or "I feel like slapping you silly," or "I just want to kiss you right now, Miroku." And you would respond. And we would talk. Simply talk. Except for that one time, when you just grabbed me and kissed me. It was the first time I've been kissed.
Then one day we skipped the ritual. You were too tired, you claimed. I was disappointed, but I told myself not to be foolish. It was just a silly ritual. I had no right to feel betrayed. So I went to sleep. The next day, your eyes weren't as bright and you didn't smile as much. But then it happened again. And again. One day, I passed you on my way to get water, and I smiled at you. You looked at me with a furrowed eyebrows and a storm brewing in your eyes. And your mouth… so straight, so pursed, so… cold. When had you stopped smiling?, I wondered. And soon, we stopped talking at all. I never knew why. Maybe it had to do with my mentioning Hayuki. He was a gorgeous man. Gorgeous was the only word with which to describe him. Or maybe devilishly roguish. But I thought you knew that he meant nothing to me. I thought you knew I was only remarking on his beauty. And nothing else, Miroku, nothing else. I thought you knew he meant nothing to me next to you. I thought you knew.
And then you started sleeping with the women we met at the towns. You were away from the campfire more and more. I was so worried about you. But you just brushed me aside. My heart broke.
I've seen the women you consorted with on our nights in town. I've seen how beautiful they were. How made up. How refined. How totally unlike me. The light in your eyes went out when you saw me, and lit when you saw them. Those women have always hated me. They turn up their noses at me. I could always brush it aside, because you were there, but now, I could only look away in shame. I know I'm not beautiful. I know I'm not desirable. I know all that. But I also know I love you.
Today, one of those women, Sakuya, I think, told me she was pregnant with your child. Congratulations. She's truly beautiful, Miroku. You've chosen well. You will have a beautiful child, I'm sure. I'm sorry I won't be able to come see the baby, once it comes. I hope you'll understand. I would never be able to live.
"I want to know what you're thinking, Sango," you said to me once. Here is what I've been thinking. I hope I haven't burdened you, Miroku. But then again, I don't mean anything to you anymore, do I? But you'll always be everything to me.
I'm sorry I've never been able to say the words to you.
I love you, Miroku.
--------
I crumpled the tear-stained paper in my hands, running a shaky hand through my hair. Had she really written that? It wasn't just a joke? Could it be true? She loves me?
Hurriedly, I dressed, not glancing a second time at my bed partner. I ran out, not even bothering to put on a top. Please, don't let me be too late.
--------
I hear footfalls behind me. I'm sobbing. I can't look up. I can't afford to be killed again. My heart can't bear the pain. I lie there in a fetal position and shake. I can't stop shaking.
I smell you. He's closer now. Please, don't come nearer. You're going to kill me. I can't take your pity.
Arms are gripping my shoulders. I'm being pulled up. Blood is rushing to my head. What are you doing, Miroku? What are you doing? I sob harder.
He pulls me into position. His arms encircle my waist, and his head rests on my back. My body remembers this position. My heart remembers this feeling. I break down completely.
"Oh, Sango, Sango. I thought you knew…"
I can't bear it any longer. I break away from his hold and stumble to the bank of the river. I'm a wreck. I fall to my knees on the muddy ground. I can't form words.
He stares at me with sadness in his eyes. He sits down, in a lotus position, and just looks at me. "I thought you knew, Sango, that I loved you. I thought you knew that I had no eyes for anyone but you. I was blinded by love, couldn't you see? I was vulnerable to you. When you talked of that man, Sango, you broke me. I couldn't bear the pain, so I…"
He drew in a deep breath. "I had to protect myself from you, Sango. Those women had no power over me. I told myself I was happy. I couldn't stand my vulnerability. But now I realize that that same vulnerability was called love."
I had quieted, staring at him numbly with large eyes. He stared back at me. Silence. Finally, he spoke. "She's not pregnant, Sango. She's just jealous of you."
Tears ran down my cheek. He came closer and pulled me to him. He enveloped me in a great hug, and I put my arms around him.
"I love you, Sango."
My heart pieced itself together and flew. I gave into the vulnerability.
"I love you, too, Miroku."