HER HEART'S DESIRES
by
Nana
CHAPTER IV
Awakening
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Miroku watched as the fine threadlike smoke was abruptly disrupted and vanished from the Dreammaster's hand. The fake Sango's eyes widened in disbelief. Immediately, it tried to weave some more, but no more thread was forthcoming.
"Korewa, korewa! Is that the only thing you're capable of?" said Miroku sarcastically, even as he was torn between admiration and disappointment.
She…Sango's disrupted her dream by going against her own wishes! Thought the priest wonderingly.
He had to do something, fast. Already, the poisonous aura was sapping through his defenses, and he could not even move from his crouching position.
"Be quiet!" hissed the youkai, its fist clenched. It glared at the real Sango, fast asleep beside Miroku.
It lifted both hands to form more thread, and an intricate pattern was soon established.
Was he just imagining it, or did Miroku actually feel the youki around him fade just a little?
That's it then, he thought. It draws its powers from the darkest secrets of its victim's heart…if that were so…the solution will lie within your heart as well, Sango!
***
"There's no way the medication could not have worked!" cried the aggravated old priest as he bent over Miroku. "You say he just passed out like that?"
Stricken with shock, Sango could only nod.
Oshou-sama straightened and regarded her with bleary, suspicious eyes. "You…didn't try anything?"
If it's just possible to hit him in the face and knock him out cold…! Sango resisted the urge.
"What I'm saying is, could it be possible," she said in a trembling voice, "that we've underestimated his injuries?"
The elderly priest sat back. "It's always possible," he sighed, heavily. "I'll go and prepare something else, then."
He got up to go, leaving her with her thoughts.
You…didn't try anything?
Of course not, you idiot! She thought to herself furiously. Why would you even doubt that? The houshi was lucky enough not to get the usual treatment! I mean I just swatted at his hands! I didn't even slap him!
She suddenly shot the priest a suspicious glare, wondering if he was just faking the whole thing. But one look at his face, the pallor of his skin, told her this was real.
Drawing a shaky breath, she reached out and brushed a lock of dark hair from his brow. "What's wrong with you, Houshi-sama?" she whispered.
Unbidden, something within her whispered, if only you didn't push him away…maybe if you didn't push him away…why do you keep doing it? Don't you want him?
"That's…STUPID!!!" she heard herself say aloud, startled at her thoughts.
She couldn't believe it! Did she just think that? How could she?! Maybe she needed to sleep. She really was very tired.
Ack!!!! And what was her hand doing???!!!!
Sango gasped when she realized where it was. Her hand had strayed from the priest's dark bangs to his forehead, her fingers nervously gliding down to touch his cheek. She had slapped him hard so many times, but she had never touched him this way.
His cheek felt cool and firm, and as her treacherous hand wandered to his slightly parted lips, she briefly wondered how it would feel against her own…
She felt her will slip away, and slowly, dazedly, she lowered her head to his…her lips mere centimeters from his.
NOOOOO!!!!
With instinct borne from years of hunting youkai, she flung herself away from the priest.
Breathing quickly, she looked around. There was no trace of youki, none at all! But what just happened was enough to convince her that this was beyond her person, and beyond her control.
She was very confused, and suddenly very frightened.
Getting to her unsteady feet, she wondered what she should do.
***
It had taken a few hours more, so that it was almost dusk, before he woke up.
He let out a groan, and Sango hesitantly moved to his side.
"Just lie back, Houshi-sama," she said. Her voice betrayed none of the turmoil she was feeling inside.
"Can't," he gasped. "So very dizzy…"
Sitting up, he rested his head on her shoulder. Sango froze for an instant before she awkwardly moved to cradle his head more securely to her. It was a good thing he couldn't see her face. From the way it was burning, she could tell what color it had on.
She briefly considered telling him about what happened to her earlier, but she quickly squelched the idea. There was no way in hell she was going to tell the Houshi what her hand had been up to.
"Better?" she whispered.
He let out a sigh. "Yes."
She tensed as she felt him curl an arm around her waist in a loose grip. Briefly, she considered if it were time to slap him, but his hand behaved, so she let him stay. The ensuing silence was threatening to stretch on forever, so she frantically cast about for something to say.
"I--I was worried about you, when you--you passed out like that earlier," she stammered.
It took him a moment to respond. "You were worried…about me?"
He sounded serious.
"Of---of course I am!" she said. But don't you go thinking along the usual path your perverted brain goes, you stupid houshi!
"Sango…"
"Hai…?"
"What would I do without you?"
Could he hear her heart suddenly beating fast? Surely, surely he could hear it!
"Wha--what kind of a question is that?"
He sighed again. "You must forgive a man, Sango," he said softly, "if he thinks he must thank you for saving his life."
Could her face get any redder? He raised his head to look at her, a smile on his calm face…and something else. All of a sudden, all her doubts seemed very far away in her mind.
"You…I---I didn't ," she stammered. "You saved me!"
"Arigatou, Sango," he said, seriously.
Sango could feel her whole face burning as she panicked. Conflicting thoughts once again sprang up where the houshi was concerned.
He sounded sincere, he sounded sane.
What am I going to do??!
He is being nice, after all…
No, seriously, how many times do you have to fall for this trap before you learn anything, Sango? He must be doing it for some reason…! Don't tell me you need reminding!
Sango! The man is injured!
He's done this before, so what makes you think he thinks you're special?
He's so dense he'll never get it, but…
…But above all, I'm just so glad he's doing better…
With this thought, Sango felt the tension of her will relax. "Houshi-sama," she said softly, "why is it that you're always stealing my line?"
"Sango," he whispered, a hand softly closing in to cradle her waist.
"Don't do that," she warned, the small gesture snapping her back to awareness. "Do what?" he asked, with a hint of a laugh in his voice, but he remained weak and drained.
"Your hand!" She actually managed to sound severe.
"It's behaving," he said, trying to sound hurt.
Could a girl's heart melt any faster?
"Why do you keep doing it?" she hissed.
He blinked. "Do what?" very innocently.
"You know what!" she snapped.
His eyes moved slowly from her face to his hand and back again. And what passed through his features then was something Sango had seen only fleetingly, and always in those unguarded moments when the priest thought nobody was looking.
It was a mixture of despair, anger and desperate loneliness. And something else…something which could make the heart contract and stand still for a moment.
Could it be longing she was seeing now in his violet eyes?
It was enough to shock her out of her anger. She mentally shook herself.
Was she imagining it? Could it be real? And yet, there would be moments such as this, in the woods or wherever they could be at the moment, when she would turn and catch him staring at her this way.
It had been unnerving only because it would be gone the next moment, to be replaced by a bright, smiling face that would appear politely inquiring. And she knew that, once again, the real houshi had slipped away, leaving her to wonder if what she had just seen was but a figment of her imagination.
What was he, then, aside from being a man with many masks?
It was true the man was an impossible lech, but it was also true he could be really gentle, kind and caring about women.
He could be grossly callous about certain things (maintaining a perverted view of what women wanted was proof enough), and yet manage to say and do the right thing at the right time that Sango could not help but feel her heart going out to him.
But there lies the problem, her mind sighed. He's not exactly asking for your heart, is he?
But then…I'm not giving it away just yet, either…
And what about all those times when she had to stand aside and endure his flirting and the past relationships he had had that just kept floating up? How could she possibly bear to have him ask other women to bear his child? Was she really any good aside from being a convenient female body that just happened to be within reach of his lecherous hands? He never really seemed interested in her as a woman, preferring the village girls for a little bit of innocent (and not so innocent?) flirtation.
To be objective and fair, reason dictated that she shouldn't be so cross. After all, it's not as if they had any relationship going, and the young monk didn't have to account for his actions to anybody--the Houshi can carry on with whoever he liked. She had no right to care.
Except her heart simply wouldn't allow it. No matter how hard she tried, her heart simply could not allow itself not to care.
Get a hold of yourself, Sango! A part of her mind whispered fiercely. Because whether he intends to or not, this person has the power to hurt you simply because you will allow him to do so…
Another voice whispered, but do you really want him to know how you feel?
????
How do you feel, exactly, Sango?
I don't know…
What do you want from him?
…
What do you want?!
I want him to tell me what he's thinking of at this moment…
"Sango," he began, his voice hoarse.
But she shied away. "Don't," she said, quietly. All of a sudden, she didn't want to know.
***
At that, the Yumemeijin let out a scream of exasperation.
It grabbed the sleeping Sango by the hair, yelling, "WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU WANT FROM HIM??!"
From his position, Miroku waited, his heart seeming to have stopped as well. He had seen thread after thread disrupt from the Dreammaster's hand. Already, the Yumemeijin was weakening at an alarming rate. It had not been able to get to Sango, had not been able to bend the dream it had created for her to its will. Every time it was starting to triumph, Sango would suddenly do a turn that left even Miroku breathless. And all this without her even consciously knowing!
Sango sighed in her sleep. "I…"
"WHAT IS IT??!"
"I just want him…by my side…always…"
Sango…Miroku thought, as unfamiliar warmth coursed through him.
***
Sango froze as she felt Miroku's arm tighten demandingly at her waist. Startled, she turned to look at his face.
"Sango…please…don't push me away now," he said, his tone tortured, almost angry.
Again Sango could feel her thoughts scattering. She held on desperately, trying again and again to convince herself that she shouldn't let go.
She had dreamed of this situation before, of course she had, but it carried none of the sweetness she had always thought would accompany it. It was fast turning into a nightmare.
I don't want any of this!
With that thought, she began struggling in earnest. To her horror, Miroku's arms tightened around her in a vice-like grip. Despite his injured state, the Houshi was remarkable strong as he fixed Sango's hands to her side, forcing her to him.
"Sango…don't fight me, don't fight this. I've known for a long time, and I know you do, too…aishteru," he said desperately.
At that, Sango suddenly relaxed against him, as though her body had turned to liquid. Without hesitation, he took her fully into his arms, his lips on her hair. Sango did not see his mouth slide up in an evil grin.
"Sango…if I only have the courage to tell you sooner--"he stopped as Sango pressed the blade of her koudachi at his throat. It was the first thing she had thought of bringing ever since what happened that afternoon.
Sango gazed back determinedly at the shocked violet eyes before her.
"Sango, what do you think you're--"
"Who are you?" she demanded.
***
The Yumemeijin screamed in pain as the last of its thread vanished from its hand.
At that, Miroku could feel the youki around him rapidly dissolving. It was the right time to attack. He had full use of his hands now, and it seemed that the Yumemeijin had been too busy to give him any notice.
But even as the youkai screamed, even as it dropped Sango, even as more of its power disappeared, his companion had not yet awakened.
Miroku was not going to risk anything until Sango woke up, at least. Even now, she was still in the grip of the youkai. Until he was sure she was awake and in this world again, he could not move.
I have to wake her up…but how…?
Had the Yumemeijin gotten to her so deeply?
He had to risk it, then. Drawing out an ofuda and silently breathing a prayer, he let go of the flaming holy paper and watched as it fastened itself on the creature's forehead.
***
Sango felt Miroku suddenly shout, his body going rigid as he released her, and drew a shocked gasp as she saw him convulse. He fell back to the futon, writhing, as if in very great pain.
"Houshi-sama!"
"Sango!" his voice was hoarse.
Sango moved to his side, koudachi still drawn, unsure of what to do. At her touch, he froze. All at once, he turned to her, his hand gripping the neck of her yukata--hard. Despite the pain in them, his violet eyes had never been clearer, more lucid.
Sango's mind had gone blank. What's going on?
But before reflex could bring her hand to use the sharp sword, before the next breath could be drawn, Miroku had raised himself almost to her level, face to face.
"Sango…" he whispered. "Rescue me…rescue me and wake up!"
With lightning speed, he took her mouth with his. She whimpered as she felt his lips crush hers. It did not feel so much a kiss as a slap on the face.
Without another thought, she brought down her free hand in a wide arc, and Miroku's head swiveled from the impact of her wide-open palm against his cheek
He landed on the futon, but already, Miroku's body was changing, shifting into its original form.
Shocked, Sango heard the splintering of invisible glass and watched as the walls of the temple room gradually began to dissolve and melt to give way to darkness and the silhouette of trees. The feel of the soft futon under her shifted to the cold, rough feel of the forest floor. She was back in the moonlit forest.
What--? But how--?
"Sango!" shouted a familiar voice. Sango turned to see Miroku a few feet away, lying prone on the ground, unable to get up.
"Houshi-sama!"
With that, the last trace of sleep deserted her. Sango had awakened at last.
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