His third point comes from a Post It Note. Rin places it neatly on the desk while Sango is speaking to Inukimi Takashi — Governor Takashi's first wife who continues to go by her ex-husband's surname. Still listening intently, she skims over Miroku's scrawled handwriting, expecting a cheesy pick up line.
Instead, her spine immediately straightens once his words register. Inukimi Takashi is rumored to take over as governor after Governor Takashi leaves for the Senate. — Miroku Hoshide
Her thoughts reel as she considers two things: 1) that Inukimi Takashi has political aims of her own, and that 2) Miroku has no idea that Governor Takashi has no intention of retiring. Her pen moves at lightning speed as Sango rushes to write them down on her legal pad, and she almost forgets to listen to Inukimi.
"… and the last time I saw her, Mrs. Takashi was on the arm of Governor Takashi at the theater."
"Thank you, Ms. Takashi. And your family, they have a long history of government involvement, is that correct?"
"Many of the men in my family have been government officials, yes, Detective Taijiri."
Most people are intimidated by Inukimi Takashi, that much is clear from her overarching coldness. Even on the phone, Ms. Takashi is a fearsome woman, the pleasant ring to her words misleading and, in a darker light, slightly sinister. Sango, however, deals with these characters for a living. She has little fear of the powerful.
"You and your son are the last of your line, if we exclude your first husband," she points out, "Do either of you plan to continue the tradition?"
Ms. Takashi laughs, short and melodic, as if the very idea is unheard of. "Is that expected of us, Detective Taijiri?"
"Power tends to run in a family like yours, Ms. Takashi," Sango points out lightly, as if this is a joke, a flirtation between them. But it's not; she's hunting for answers, and Miroku has given her hope that Inukimi may hold a clue.
"Will this help you locate the current Mrs. Takashi, if I do answer?" Her voice is oddly seductive, not so much sexual as it is teasing. As if the world is made of mice and she is the only cat around. It sets Sango on edge. She isn't here to play games; she's here to find the governor's wife.
"Anything will help, Ms. Takashi," Sango does her best to sound patient.
"Well as long as it helps." She pauses before continuing, sounding casual as if she is discussing the weather. "I've entertained the thought before, I'll admit. It sounds nice, doesn't it, to be the first woman to continue the family legacy. But no concrete plans have been made as of yet."
"And Sesshomaru?"
"You'll have to ask him."
Sango scribbles a few more things on her legal pad diligently, brow furrowing as she reconsiders the facts. "Thank you, Ms. Takashi. I'll be in touch."
"Please, I insist — don't be." The subtle insult is padded with an almost cheerful tone, amused and lighthearted. "Goodbye, Detective."
Before she can get a word out, Sango is hung up on, and she stares at the phone with bewilderment for a second before hanging up as well. Are all powerful women like this? Wrinkling her nose, she taps her pen impatiently on the paper.
She doesn't like to deal with politics, with briberies and false promises and games of power — but if that's what she has to do, then she'll do it. It's how she's lived her entire life: doing what is necessary, even when it's hard.
Crossing out Ms. Takashi's name on her list of people to call reminds her of the Post It note, written by some belligerent reporter. Before she can stop herself, a smile blossoms on her face and she sticks it down on her legal pad for future reference. Surprise, surprise, Miroku can be useful even when he's being a pest.
She supposes that he at least deserves her gratitude for that, and after putting her notes away, she walks to Rin's desk expecting to see the two of them chatting amicably. Instead, Sango is surprised to find him texting on his phone at her desk and her secretary filing away papers in complete silence.
"Ah, Miroku?" she says hesitantly, almost afraid to break the hush of the office.
His gaze snaps up from his screen to her face, and at the sight of Sango, Miroku smiles. "Sango! Did you get my note?"
"Yes, I did," she answers, glancing over at Rin, who remains attentive to her work.
"And? Did it get you anywhere?" he asks smoothly, leaning an arm against Rin's workplace smoothly.
"That's my business," she reminds him politely, "but I will give you a point for that."
"That puts us at three. And it's only been two and a half hours."
"Looks like you're making good progress," Sango points out with a small laugh. His charm is all over the place, from boyish to suave to borderline inappropriate — but it's still charm all throughout, and she has to admit that he's become more comfortable to be around.
"Would be better if I had some information for my article," Miroku quips, innocently raising his brows at her with such childish hope that she rolls her eyes and decides to throw him a bone.
"Inukimi Takashi doesn't seem to be set on running for office." Sango leans against the doorframe and waits for his reaction.
He doesn't seem to have one. There is no single expression to be found on his features, no subtle movements, no body language to hint at a response. Her brows come together as she questions what's wrong with her eyes, and he looks unwilling to tell her for a second or two before sighing.
"It's just not much information," Miroku shrugs.
Sango blinks. "Of course it's information, I spoke with her myself. She has no concrete plans to run for office as of yet," she rephrases.
"That's what all politicians say," he counters, "It's always about the seems and as of yets and the unforeseeable future. It's what you find in between the lines that tell you the truth."
"The truth," she repeats skeptically, not sure whether to believe a man whose job is to sneak around and uncover gossip.
Recognizing her tone, Miroku smiles wryly and mirrors her position, leaning against the other side of the doorframe. "Yes, the truth. Detectives hunt for the truth, isn't that right?"
"That's my job," she nods.
"It's mine, too. Only while people are happy to cooperate with you, they choose their words carefully with me. So I learn to pick up clues and piece them together in the details. And politicians essentially treat everyone like a reporter."
His eyes are wide open, a little lighthearted, sincere, honest. And she believes him. She isn't such a fool to trust him so easily, but she does believe him in this instance. Without responding, Sango grabs the phone and redials Inukimi Takashi's phone number.
Miroku opens his mouth to ask her what the hell she's doing but is silenced with a single finger.
"Yes, may I speak to Ms. Inukimi Takashi, please?" Sango glances at Miroku and offers a small, reassuring smile, although he looks more amused than bewildered.
"Hello, Ms. Takashi. I'm sorry to be calling again, but I recently received word that you were, in fact, planning to run for the governor's office. Is this true?"
Miroku casually steps forward and presses the speaker button.
"—accusing me of lying, Detective?"
"No, Ms. Takashi, I'm only wondering if you understood the importance of your response. Because it may be vital to the investigation that you are being thoroughly honest, ma'am."
He doesn't know which feeling is stronger in the pit of his stomach: attraction or admiration. She looks over at him and smiles, almost shyly, and he marvels at how many facets there are to Detective Taijiri.
Perhaps things are becoming dangerous, he considers as she continues to reason with Ms. Takashi. It's not the fear of commitment that worries him; Miroku looks forward to his future with a wife and many children. But his future cannot begin without Naraku Incorporated behind him, and at this moment, it is still a looming goal ahead.
He stares at Sango and wishes her to become Detective Taijiri to him once more: a woman to question and pester and essentially use to get to his end goal. But she's Sango now, a bright woman with an addiction to coffee, a witty sense of humor, and chocolate eyes. Intelligent, alluring, strong.
It's cruel, to have met the perfect woman before the perfect timing.
The click of a phone hanging up reminds Miroku that he is not alone, and he raises his brows questioningly at her pensive expression. "Penny for your thoughts," he says as he moves away from the doorframe and closes the distance between him.
She ignores the weight of his body hovering a few inches behind her, pulls out her legal pad instead. It doesn't matter anymore, that all of her thoughts are in plain sight, that Miroku will get all the information she's denied him. All of the pettiness of secrecy pales in comparison to the information scurrying in her thoughts.
She scribbles a single sentence: Inukimi Takashi is running for governor.
A pause, and then another sentence: The opposition is infrequent but fierce.
And lastly, an arrow to the first statement Sango ever wrote for the case: Izayoi Takashi is missing.
"Do you think—," she begins, but Miroku interrupts her.
"Yes." He is tempted for a fleeting moment to put a hand on her shoulder knowingly, but to touch her would be to cement his budding feelings for this woman, and so Miroku resists. "And I also think you should call Governor Takashi."
She nods and begins dialing, and without a word, Miroku steps back and exits. Something in his chest sinks as he exits the office, waves goodbye to Rin, and walks back to his own boss. He won't allow himself to betray her even further; he will take as little as he can.
He only hopes that she will forgive him, after he confesses and repents to her after he's received the promotion.