This has been sitting in my documents for months. I actually forgot I had it in there, but when I was feeling melancholy and went to type out a drabble of some sort, this was already there. I have not edited it in any way.
I don't know what has woken me so abruptly at this time of night, but I am glad. I instinctively shift over to the other side of the bed, hoping to find the firm body of the lovely taijiya I have come to care so deeply for, but my hand only grasps the sheet. For a brief moment, worry rises in me, then it fades as I hear the murmur of voices down the hall from another room. I lie back and gaze up at the ceiling, trying to listen for signs that would signal someone is in trouble, but there are none, and the walls are thick enough that the words are not distinct.
A few minutes later, Sango comes back into the room, and although the candle has been extinguished about an hour ago, I can still just barely make out the outline of her figure as she approaches the bed. She doesn't get in, however, and silently remains standing there.
"Sango," I begin. "Would you care to join me?" It is not really an invitation for her to join me in bed, but rather the casual suggestion of getting some sleep before we continue the hunt to find the last few shards. She does not say anything, and I sigh.
"I won't try anything, I promise. But Sango, do you really think I'd –"
She finally obeys, but rather than lying down, she sits down on top of the sheets, her back turned to me. She still doesn't say anything, but before I can open my mouth to speak, I hear a sniffle. My concern for her increases, and I sit up, reaching over to touch her shoulder.
"Sango, are you…?"
She shakes her head, but rather than withdrawing from me as she usually does when I reach out, she turns around and throws her arms around my neck, burying her face into my shoulder. Her entire body is trembling. I hesitate at first, fearing that she will think that I will use this opportunity to somehow take advantage of her vulnerable state, but then I tentatively wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her a bit closer.
"Sango, was it… have I…?" I fumble for the correct way to ask her for the reason why she's like this so suddenly without pressuring her for details. I can hear her attempting to hold back tears, and I frown.
"I don't know what to do anymore!" she finally bursts out. To me, the words sound almost broken, punctuated by quiet sobs. "He… ever since Sesshoumaru revived him… I just…" She stops to take a shuddering breath and pulls back from me, her gaze drifting to the sheets. The tearstains are evident on her face as she again attempts to speak. "I thought things would improve… but why…? I am his sister… yet he… "
I understand immediately what she is trying so desperately to say. "Sango, your brother has been through a lot. He – Naraku – forced him to slaughter his family and comrades. Once he regained his memories, he was still forced to act like he didn't remember you while carrying out more atrocities. It is only natural he wants his own space; it will take time for him to heal."
Sango does not answer, and I gently tilt her chin so her gaze will reluctantly meet mine. "Sango, do you understand what I am saying?"
She stares at me for a moment, anguish and regret clearly written across her features. "I…"
"He needs time to come to terms with what has happened."
She covers her face with her hand and her hair surrounds her face as she lowers her head. Finally she speaks, although her words are barely uttered in more than a choked whisper.
"He is my brother. I want to help him. But he…"
"He is not avoiding you, Sango."
"He is."
"He needs his own space. After everything that he has been through, his perspective on things has changed. He is no longer the boy you once knew." Although I speak none other than the truth, I fear the damage I may caused in saying those words to Sango while she is in one of her more fragile moods. I wait for a reaction, whether it be an embrace for solace and hope, or a slap across the face. I will not say that I deserved a slap for speaking the truth, but sometimes the only thing a person really needs is to vent their anger and frustration over the things of which they cannot resolve themselves.
After a long moment of silence, I hear the sound of quiet sobs coming from behind her hand. I pull her back against me, and she shows no resistance as I reach up to rub her back in a soothing manner. I simply hold her as she cries into my shoulder, knowing that that is the only way for her to let go of everything.
Kohaku has never really been freed, and it is his sister who pays the price.
Theme: Sometime after they have claimed Kohaku back, but before the official marriage between Sango and Miroku. It is meant to display the torn feelings Sango has between her duty as a sister, and the sense of knowing that she will never have her brother completely back, so she must come to terms with what fate has given her. Miroku always has a wise word for her, even if it is not what she wishes to hear.
