Sango was subdued as she followed Miroku. She walked in silence, keeping a goodly distance between the two of them.
Miroku watched her, casting furtive, sidelong glances periodically in her direction. He could see the frustration and disappointment writ across her face, and sighed.
This had been their first demon extermination since Naraku's defeat. It was also the first they had undertaken as a married pair.
Everything would have been fine had the problem not turned out to be the sorrowful spirit of a young woman, condemned to walk the earth until her heart found peace. She had been duped by a local demon, and the two had become a monster.
It was dealt with easily enough. Miroku had assisted perhaps a dozen such ghosts in his lifetime. The problem was Sango.
She had thought that marriage would ease her fears and even her temper. She'd been wrong. If anything, it had only made her more fiercely protective of him.
Miroku had seen it coming and refused to let it bother him, but Sango had grown angry when he dealt with the spirit-woman. Horrified by the force of her own baseless jealousy, she had withdrawn.
He had let her stew in it. She would only turn anything he said against him, anyway, and one of them needed to discuss the terms of their service with the village head. And since he was the better negotiator, it might as well be him.
But now, on the way home, when it was just the two of them... the awkward silence tore at his heart.
He let his steps grow slower; she was lost in her own thoughts and did not notice until they were walking side by side. "What's the matter?" he asked, innocently.
"Huh? Nothing's the matter." Her voice betrayed her, wavering uncertainly.
"Obviously something is, or you wouldn't be sulking like this."
Her face colored just a little. "I'm sorry, Houshi-sama. My behavior today was inexcusable."
"What makes you say that?"
"I should trust you more than that. You did nothing dishonorable, and I acted as if you had, just because I was afraid you might."
"Sango," he said, choosing his words carefully, "I knew when I married you that it would be difficult for you to trust me. I don't expect it to happen all at once. All I ask is that you try."
"It's hard," she confessed. "When for so long you would always..." she trailed off; he knew what she was referring to, and did not push it. She was right, after all. In the past, he had given her very few reasons to trust him around other women.
"It's hard to change one's habits. But it can be done. Or am I not proof enough of that?" He let her fall a bit behind, giving her space to think about what he had said.
After a moment, she caught up. "You're right," she said. "I promise I'll keep trying."
He smiled. "I couldn't ask for more."