Miroku walked slowly across the hillside, the water droplets on the grass glittering under the moon above his head. His hands slid into his sleeves as his mind drifted in and out of thought. He was eager to see whether Sango would meet him, but fearful she would not. Sango was very introverted and she might view this meeting as an attempt for him to grope her, perhaps she would not come. Looking up slowly his eyes moved over the large hole in the ground that was his father's grave. He stopped, his eyes moving over a figure standing in the shadows of the grave.
He smiled as his eyes moved over Sango, her eyes flashing up to him quickly.
She walked slowly forward, her head turned to the grave as Miroku smiled.
"You came". Miroku said softly, a breath of relief escaping his lips.
She nodded slowly, her eyes moving over the grave as Miroku looked down at her.
"Come". He whispered as she looked up at him, her eyebrows raised.
The two walked a few feet away sitting down at the edge of the hill that faced the vast valleys and mountains around the temple. Sango sat nervously beside Miroku, her hands folded on her lap as the monk stretched out on his back on the grass. Miroku snickered softly as Sango's eyes darted to him.
"What"?
Shaking his head, Miroku stared up at the stars as he let out a sigh. "I was remembering a childhood memory."
Sango nodded as he continued. "I was sitting in my bed room, I was maybe about six years old". He said, his voice trailing off as his smile reappeared. "I was listening to Mushin trying to court a woman in the other room". He said as his eyes glittered. "At the time I had believed that he loved the woman, and I thought if I acted the same I could fine a beautiful woman to love".
Sango smiled as she shook her head. "Is that when you started acting like a lecher?"
Miroku laughed nodding slowly.
As they fell silent, the two stared up at the moon. For an hour longer, Miroku spoke of his childhood.
Sango sat listening silently, her eyelids beginning to feel heavy after several more hours passed in their conversations. Laying backward on the grass, she jumped as a hand clenched around her shoulder. Looking to her side, she stared up into Miroku's eyes as he looked over her softly. Leaning forward, her lips touched to his lightly as his smile broke across his face.
The two remained laying on the grass staring at the sky until sleep had claimed them. Turning onto her side, Sango buried her head in Miroku's robes as his lips brushed against her forehead. Listening to the soft beating of his heart, she drifted slowly into a peaceful dream.
When morning came, the two quickly separated acting as if nothing had went on the night before. Miroku went to Mushin's bed side while Sango went off to clean the rooms of the temple.
Walking down the long hallway, she paused, one hand clenched around a broom and the other on the handle of the door. Pulling back the screen door fluidly, she stared into the dark and musky room. She coughed slightly as dust flew into her face, moving quickly to the window, she drew back the material, pulling open the shutters as rays of sunlight poured around her into the room.
She turned slowly, her eyes trailing up the walls and ceiling of the small room around her. A bed stood against the wall, the mattress rotted from years without use, it looked to be about the size of a child's bed. A crate stood a few feet away, a thick layer of dust on it's wooden surface. Floating over to the chest, she clenched the latch, pulling it open forcefully. Raising her hand to her mouth, she coughed again as a plume of dust flew into the air from the dark contents of the chest. Her eyes turned over the many items in the box, her fingers sifting through them curiously. Brushing her hand against something soft, she drew it from the darkness holding it before her eyes.
It was small doll, much like the ones she had as a child. Running her fingers over the doll's coarse hair, she glanced up to a figure standing in the doorway.
She jumped to her feet still holding the doll to her chest as she looked up at Miroku. "I-" She stammered as he shook his head, his arms falling to his side as he glanced around the room stoically.
"This was my old room". He muttered gliding soundlessly through the door. His eyes darted around, picking up every last inch of his childhood bedroom. "It has been so long." He turned to Sango, his eyes falling on the doll in her hand. Walking slowly toward her, he reached out, his hand touching the doll's small head.
"And this"? She said pushing the doll into his hands as he smiled sadly.
"It was my sister's." He said softly, his eyes glazing over as he looked down at the doll's tattered kimono. "She died when she was just an infant."
"I am sorry." Sango said hurriedly as Miroku shook his head.
After a moment of silence, Miroku met her gaze strongly. "Thank you for coming." He whispered, his hand closing around her wrist. "It makes me happy that I can show you I was not always the man you see before you. That in my past I was pure". He whispered, eyes shifting around the room once more. Sango nodded as she leaned into his chest, her body moving subconsciously toward his warmth.
Though the room was muggy and humid, she felt herself craving his touch, to feel his hot skin against hers. Leaning her head in the crook of his neck, her lips pursed as she closed her eyes. Miroku's hand was gliding up her arm, stroking her skin beneath her thick sleeve. His breath tickled her nose as he stared down at her, his lips against eyebrow. For some reason she felt herself shifting closer to him, chasing the fleeting feeling that left her when his hand moved away from her skin. Blushing deeply, she realized what this was and quickly backed away.
Seeming not to notice, Miroku stared around once more time as he moved to the door. Turning to her slowly, he smiled. "Do not work too hard". He whispered as she nodded quickly, turning back to the broom that was leaning against the chest.
