I'm in for a rough couple of weeks. (College finals for the semester. Eek!) Updates should be faster and more regular after I've finished up everything for the Spring.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Life Goes On
Part 7
"How was I supposed to know he meant he actually wanted me to play secretary in order to help him with his paperwork?" Kagome was saying.
Even through the phone, Sango could hear Kagome's irritation and embarrassment. "I think it's very important for you to remember that Inuyasha is not Miroku."
"Yeah, I guess so," Kagome agreed reluctantly. "So… how bad is it that I kind of wish he'd meant the secretary comment in a dirty way?"
"You just wanted an excuse to slap him," Sango teased, shuffling through her backpack for the car keys. She had borrowed her father's extermination truck for the day, which, as embarrassing as it was to drive around in a vehicle with a huge bug mounted on top, was still a nice change from having to take the train. "How'd you make it up to him after slapping him?"
There was a brief moment of silence as Sango, innocently, continued searching for the keys, while Kagome took her question the wrong way. "Sango! I think your boyfriend's rubbing off on you."
"Wait, what? Kagome, I just meant—Wow, I think you're the one with the dirty mind here. You took Inuyasha's comment the wrong way, and then just did the same thing with mine!"
Kagome spluttered incoherently. "I," she finally said, clearly keeping a tight leash on her voice, "gave him a kiss on the cheek and then stayed for the rest of the day helping him with his work."
"How sweet," the brunette cooed teasingly. "Maybe you should have made it up to him in a different way. A more… naked way, I mean."
"I'm hanging up now!" Kagome shouted. Sango laughed and pulled the phone away from her ear, easily picturing how red her best friend's face must be. There was some rustling before Kagome made due on her promise, a click and a dial tone replacing the conversation. Chuckling, Sango put her cell phone away and finally found her keys, nestled at the very bottom of her bag. "A-ha!" she said under her breath, triumphant. When she looked up however, she was met with a surprise. In the middle of the courtyard, a couple of dozen yards away, was Miroku. He was sitting in the grass, a picnic spread around him on the ground.
"Sango, my sweet," the dark-haired man greeted affectionately, practically glowing under all the appreciative glances he was getting from Sango's female classmates. (They were all remaking on how cute, thoughtful, and romantic the man was, much to Sango's annoyance slash pleasure.)
"What are you doing here, Miroku?" Sango asked, coming closer until she was standing, slightly stunned, at the edge of the blanket.
"Isn't it obvious?" Miroku asked, a smile lighting up his face—particularly his eyes, his girlfriend's favorite feature of his. "I brought you lunch."
Sango lowered herself uncertainly to the ground, shrugging off her backpack and dropping it next to her on the ground. "You're not going to ask me to play secretary with you now, are you?"
A beat passed and suddenly Miroku's smile brightened, a laugh freeing itself from his throat. He wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. "So you heard about that, too, did you?"
"I was afraid it might give you ideas," Sango said, looking like she was still trying to decide between being happy to see him and wary. She ran her fingers through her long hair, a nervous habit, but Miroku reached out and grabbed her hand with his own, twining them together.
"I wanted to see you," the man told her simply, still looking jovial, "Because I miss you."
"Really?"
"Really," Miroku confirmed, tightening his hold on her hand. She noticed that was the only physical contact he was trying to make with her; his other hand was firmly planted on his other side and hadn't come anywhere close to her body. "I missed you, because I love you. And you're beautiful. I like seeing you."
Sango, to her growing embarrassment, felt a blush heat up her cheeks. Part of her was trying to find a hole in this: Was he feeling guilty? What had he done? Was this just another ploy to go farther with her than she really wanted? But his eyes were so open and honest, and his hand felt so sweet in her own, smooth and warm.
"I love you, too," she responded finally, relaxing into the moment, feeling like maybe this was a start to something— something they hadn't reached yet in their relationship. It was not their first exchange of 'I love you's, but it felt different. A good different. "I'm glad you came."
