Her Heart's Desires
Epilogue
The Dawn Flower
Miroku sat on the far corner of the hut, aware of the uncomfortable silence of his companions. They had tried to settle down to catch some sleep before sunrise, but none of them had felt the least bit like sleeping, especially when so many questions hung in the air. And Miroku was showing unusual resolve in not letting them in on the big secret.
How much longer is she going to stay away? He wondered, growing uneasy. Outside, the temperature was rapidly dropping.
And yet, to go outside now would be fatal. He could not bring himself to face Sango just now. Too much had happened. He knew that any word of comfort would not be able assuage the fact that he had been witness to a violation of Sango's privacy. And nothing he was going to say or do was going to make her feel better.
What happened had been frustrating. It had also been elating. How could a thing like this bring on such conflicting emotions? He should by all rights be as disgusted as Sango, but he was not. All the time he had to think her thoughts and share her dreams, he had tethered from anger and desperation to…something else. Sango's dreams had triggered something else which could set a man's pulses running.
Miroku was not inexperienced in dealing with matters of the heart. And to be perfectly honest, this was not the first time he had felt his pulse quicken at the thought of a woman. But he was wily enough not to get caught in the complications.
Although he knew very well he had some effect on most women, and knew that flirtation can be intoxicating, Miroku knew it was unwise to let go of the reins of one's heart completely.
And so he could happily continue with his routine, getting carried away with one beauty after another, asking her his charming and ever-so- improper question, meaning and at the same time not meaning it, while deep inside, his heart remained peaceful and secure in its knowledge that no woman owns it.
But the strange warmth--almost a glow--that this particular woman (Sango, of all people!) could elicit deep within him was something he was not familiar with. Nor was he prepared for the sharp, twisting pain he had felt when he saw her being manipulated into kissing him, only to watch her pull back just in time.
Surely, he should be applauding her for having such self-control. So why was it he was feeling almost…unhappy about it? Was he not annoyed with her for following him around? Did it not puzzle him to see her get fuming mad over his flirting with another girl, and then get angry with him when he tried to show her some attention? He could not understand why Sango was disgusted with the way he carried himself about with women, when so many others were totally flattered.
For him, Sango was a riddle, and many times, Miroku preferred to keep her in his mind that way. It was in his nature to find it difficult to get too close to anyone. For someone whose fate it was to carry his death literally in his hand, it was so much better to push people away rather than bear the consequences of seeing them get hurt on his account.
And yet…there would be times when he would watch her covertly, and feel this overwhelming urge to reach out and hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right; because Sango-- shorn of her armor during unguarded moments-- was a totally different person whom Miroku saw very rarely. It was all there in her eyes, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Certainly, there was deep sadness, but it was accompanied with a tinge of something Miroku had not understood and had tried to analyze when he allowed his thoughts to wander.
Now that he thought of it, he was almost sure it was something close to tenderness--the very same look she had given him in her dreams, when she sat watch over him.
Could it be…that she thinks of me sometimes?
He could feel a familiar twisting sensation inside, although it was not exactly pain. He pushed away the thought, mildly alarmed.
And mildly…thrilled?
He groaned inwardly, not at all comfortable with the sudden twist his treacherous mind had taken.
Don't let it get even more complicated than it already is, the rational side of his brain whispered sagely. Don't let it…WHAT ARE YOU DOING???
The others were finally asleep. It was time.
Even as a part of his mind was shouting warnings, Miroku watched detachedly, almost wonderingly, as his body rose to its feet on its own accord in one graceful, fluid motion. He passed by Inu Yasha, noting that the demon had not stirred from his usual sitting position against the wall.
A whisper as the wooden door slid open and close, and he was gone.
Kagome waited for a few seconds, just to be sure, before turning on her back in her sleeping bag, sighing.
"That stupid bouzou!" muttered Inu Yasha, finally raising his head. "You'd think he'd wait until morning!"
"That's because you wouldn't sleep sooner," Kagome admonished. She turned her head to look at Inu Yasha as he got to his feet.
"Wait--don't go out," Kagome advised, stopping the dog demon in his tracks.
He turned back to her, surprised. "You mean you don't want to know what he's going to do?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she said, beginning to smile mischievously. "But you can hear everything that's going on outside, even if it's over a distance, can't you?"
****
Epilogue
The Dawn Flower
Miroku sat on the far corner of the hut, aware of the uncomfortable silence of his companions. They had tried to settle down to catch some sleep before sunrise, but none of them had felt the least bit like sleeping, especially when so many questions hung in the air. And Miroku was showing unusual resolve in not letting them in on the big secret.
How much longer is she going to stay away? He wondered, growing uneasy. Outside, the temperature was rapidly dropping.
And yet, to go outside now would be fatal. He could not bring himself to face Sango just now. Too much had happened. He knew that any word of comfort would not be able assuage the fact that he had been witness to a violation of Sango's privacy. And nothing he was going to say or do was going to make her feel better.
What happened had been frustrating. It had also been elating. How could a thing like this bring on such conflicting emotions? He should by all rights be as disgusted as Sango, but he was not. All the time he had to think her thoughts and share her dreams, he had tethered from anger and desperation to…something else. Sango's dreams had triggered something else which could set a man's pulses running.
Miroku was not inexperienced in dealing with matters of the heart. And to be perfectly honest, this was not the first time he had felt his pulse quicken at the thought of a woman. But he was wily enough not to get caught in the complications.
Although he knew very well he had some effect on most women, and knew that flirtation can be intoxicating, Miroku knew it was unwise to let go of the reins of one's heart completely.
And so he could happily continue with his routine, getting carried away with one beauty after another, asking her his charming and ever-so- improper question, meaning and at the same time not meaning it, while deep inside, his heart remained peaceful and secure in its knowledge that no woman owns it.
But the strange warmth--almost a glow--that this particular woman (Sango, of all people!) could elicit deep within him was something he was not familiar with. Nor was he prepared for the sharp, twisting pain he had felt when he saw her being manipulated into kissing him, only to watch her pull back just in time.
Surely, he should be applauding her for having such self-control. So why was it he was feeling almost…unhappy about it? Was he not annoyed with her for following him around? Did it not puzzle him to see her get fuming mad over his flirting with another girl, and then get angry with him when he tried to show her some attention? He could not understand why Sango was disgusted with the way he carried himself about with women, when so many others were totally flattered.
For him, Sango was a riddle, and many times, Miroku preferred to keep her in his mind that way. It was in his nature to find it difficult to get too close to anyone. For someone whose fate it was to carry his death literally in his hand, it was so much better to push people away rather than bear the consequences of seeing them get hurt on his account.
And yet…there would be times when he would watch her covertly, and feel this overwhelming urge to reach out and hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right; because Sango-- shorn of her armor during unguarded moments-- was a totally different person whom Miroku saw very rarely. It was all there in her eyes, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Certainly, there was deep sadness, but it was accompanied with a tinge of something Miroku had not understood and had tried to analyze when he allowed his thoughts to wander.
Now that he thought of it, he was almost sure it was something close to tenderness--the very same look she had given him in her dreams, when she sat watch over him.
Could it be…that she thinks of me sometimes?
He could feel a familiar twisting sensation inside, although it was not exactly pain. He pushed away the thought, mildly alarmed.
And mildly…thrilled?
He groaned inwardly, not at all comfortable with the sudden twist his treacherous mind had taken.
Don't let it get even more complicated than it already is, the rational side of his brain whispered sagely. Don't let it…WHAT ARE YOU DOING???
The others were finally asleep. It was time.
Even as a part of his mind was shouting warnings, Miroku watched detachedly, almost wonderingly, as his body rose to its feet on its own accord in one graceful, fluid motion. He passed by Inu Yasha, noting that the demon had not stirred from his usual sitting position against the wall.
A whisper as the wooden door slid open and close, and he was gone.
Kagome waited for a few seconds, just to be sure, before turning on her back in her sleeping bag, sighing.
"That stupid bouzou!" muttered Inu Yasha, finally raising his head. "You'd think he'd wait until morning!"
"That's because you wouldn't sleep sooner," Kagome admonished. She turned her head to look at Inu Yasha as he got to his feet.
"Wait--don't go out," Kagome advised, stopping the dog demon in his tracks.
He turned back to her, surprised. "You mean you don't want to know what he's going to do?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she said, beginning to smile mischievously. "But you can hear everything that's going on outside, even if it's over a distance, can't you?"
****