by Ironraven
Disclaimer: Inuyasha and company aren't mine. They are the property of Rumiko Takahashi-sama.
Were were we? Miroku and Sango are running away, after misplacing themselves. Will they find that which they seek, or will they fail in thier quests and die?
Cats are people to, you know.
Oh, and a shoutout to Bluefuzzyelf- thank you for being the 50th reviewer.
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Kirara's belly growled gently. It had been many long, hard days since they had left the others. Her mistress was in not yet ready to travel, but had insisted, so Kirara had carried the stubborn hunter. Stretching, Kirara felt the slight pull in her shoulder, the last twinge of the tanuki's blade. She was still confused, but she knew that her mistress needed some time away. Storm-eyes had once been a friend and ally, but his true nature had been shown. Again. This time, he was gone for good.
Turning, Kirara watched her mistress. Sango's arm still moved stiffly, as she looked about, clearing a spot for the fire, before Kirara gently nudged her out of the way, digging a suitable hole with just a few strokes of her paw.
"Thank you, Kirara. Why don't you go hunt, you must be hungry." Scratching her friend under the chin, Sango tried and failed to smile. "I'll be ok. Eat, we will continue our search for Kohaku in the morning." After giving her friend a soft push, the Huntress moved into the nearest thicket to find wood for the fire.
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Sitting next to his own fire, Miroku bit into the first ripe peach of the spring. He smiled to himself, focusing on the taste of the food rather than a hollowness food could never fill. He had walked through the first night, and was as far from the Bone Eater's Well as a man on a good horse would be in the same amount of time. He had been skirting villages and fields, avoiding people.
"I forgot how nice it was to be on my own. I can't believe I had gotten used to them." Speaking for the first time since the dawn, Miroku leaned back on his elbows after licking the last juice from his fingers. "Hachi, how long has it been since it was just us?"
The forest's silence spoke back, it's answer wiping the smile from the monk's face. Alone, really alone. I've never be alone before. I've always had someone with me. With a sad sigh, Miroku tucked the second peach into his robes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire. The sweet juices of the succulent fruit tasted like ash in his mouth now. The fire popped slightly, the wood still damp from the previous night's rains, but no other noises intruded on his isolation. For some time he sat there, his eyes gazing into the fire, watching it consume the wood and his thoughts.
The monk jumped when an angry growl tore him from his self pity. Turning, he reached for his shajuko, knowning he'd never be able to reach it before his attacker was on top of him. Then he stopped, seeing his foe. With a furious snarl, Kirara took a step closer to the man she thought of as Airhand. He raised his hands, showing them to be empty as a nervous smile slipped across his lips.
Miroku's fear and shame filled her nose; she could hear his heart start to beat faster. WHITEDOG LIED!!
"Hello, Kirara." Backing up slowly, Miroku felt a cold sweat break along his spine. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?" Every step that the firecat took was one more that the monk went back, until he felt a tree at his back. Closing his eyes, he felt her breath as his mind's eye conjured memories of her teeth. I guess all my karma is about to be paid back.
---
"Hey, you don't have to push so hard." Kirara butted her head in the small of his back again, growling in response. Stumbling through the thorned bushes, the houshi entered a small clearing.
Sango lay on her side to protect her shoulder, next to the unlit fire. A tinderbox lay on the ground next to the pile of tinder and kindling, as if thrown down in disgust. Miroku stood there, watching her breath for a long time, not speaking, not thinking. Part of him wanted to embrace her; another, just as large, wanted to run away. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the pain in her face, the tightly clenched lids of her eyes. The ache inside his chest grew, threatening to consume him as he stared. He knelt across the firebuild from her.
She's shivering. Finally breaking his eyes from Sango's slumbering form, he reached his uncursed hand into the pyramid of twigs. Miroku grimaced at what he found, the tinder damp. No wonder, the spark couldn't take. Reaching into his robes, his hand sought the small, untouched bundle that Inuyasha had given to him, nearly a moon ago. Drawing it out, he pulled the small box of thick paper from within the bandages.
I've watched Kagome use these.... He slid the finger thick twigs away from the tinder, fluffing the lightest material. Fumbling, he eventually succeeded in opening the small box, surprisingly right side up. He shook the box gently, before selecting a match, then slid the tray closed. Holding the box in hand, he stroked the thick bulb of the sliver along the box. Once, twice, three times, without success. Frowning, he turned the box and the match over and over in his hands. Experimentally, he ran the tiny stick over the rough side of the box, and was rewarded with a tiny flame. Dropping the box, he quickly cupped his hand around the dancing heat, sheltering it from the wind as he lowered it into the mound. He smiled as the flame licked and bit into the tinder, then flinched as it also nipped at his fingers of his cursed hand. He dropped the match, killing it's flame, but it had served well.
Eyes flicking between Sango and the fire, Houshi-sama sat in silence until she stopped shivering. He sat for a moment, watching her relax a bit, but the pain and fear never left her face. Creeping silently, he moved to sit next to her. He reached, as if to stroke her hair, but he stopped himself. Wincing in pain, he stood and started to walk away. Pausing by her carry cloth, he took the peach from within his robe, and set it atop her supplies, next to the tinder box.
"Houshi-sama?"
Her voice, blurred with sleep, froze him where he stood. He felt ice build up in his blood, jamming it in his veins so the fire mixed with it could burn his soul. To hear her say his name, especially her name for him, made his hair stand on end.
"Houshi-sama!" Scrambling to her knees, Sango felt her heart start to race, beating so hard she feared it would burst. She could feel her hands shaking as if she was nearly frozen. "Is it you?"
"Hai." Fear and joy competed within him, until his last image of her, holding Kiyoshi's body, drowned both emotions. But even as the jealousy struck, memories of her fought to evaporate the tide of inner toxins. No matter how much he wanted to hate her, he couldn't, not really. But he could not face her, either.
Turn around, please. Tracing her eyes along his neck and back, Sango could see the lines of tension. How had being dead changed him? What had brought him back? "I'm sorry, Houshi-sama."
His hair bristled at her words, feeling the anger of abandonment trying to surge out, but it was mixed with feeling warm, truly warm, for the first time in a month. Miroku clenched his eyes tightly as he spoke, "For what, Sango?"
"It's all my fault, I should have remembered Kiyoshi's betrayal. If I had, you wouldn't be a ghost, none of this would have happened."
Turning, Miroku's face was twisted in confusion, then he felt his belly clench. She was kneeling, head down, her hands on her knees, meek and small. Not like Sango at all. "I'm not a ghost, Sango."
But I can see him. If he isn't a ghost... Only the dead can see the dead. "Oh," slowly, she raised her head, surprised at her dry cheeks. His face was a collection of every emotion she could name, his whole hand reaching slightly to her. "It changes nothing. This is my fault, all of it."
The pain in her voice, the guilt, they broke down his last defense. The anger he had denied clinging to for so long withered like an injured limb inside his heart. "No, it isn't. I should have trusted you. I didn't, I ran away." Sinking to his knees, he sat part way around the fire from her.
"I should have followed you. Or gone looking. But I didn't." Hugging her arms around herself, Sango looked into the fire. Inside of it, she could see her past, laughing at her. "Kiyoshi wasn't always like that, he could have been a better man. But he just didn't want to be."
Despite the fire, Miroku's blood chilled at the mention of her former betrothed. "But he wasn't all bad, was he?" If he had, how could he have been as close to you, Sango?
Sango jerked her head up, the faintest seed of a smile on her lips. "No, are you all good?" To prove her point, she cupped her hand and reached up with it, just a little.
Houshi-sama grinned sheepishly as he nodded, granting her the point. "I'm sorry, I try to change, but things are drawn to my hand." Looking the smile on his face, he realized what he had just said. Baka! What were you thinking, saying something so stupid! Why do you think she ran to Kiyoshi- because of that wandering hand. Looking down, Miroku tried to find another topic, any topic. "How is your arm."
Reaching up to cup her shoulder, Sango gave it a few experimental swings. Being dead does have one advantage. "It is better now, still a little stiff. I've been taking it easy, but I've needed to use it. If Kagome or Kaede were here, they would want to sling it, but I don't think they care anymore." Feeling the emptiness of the loss of a second family, Sango fought back a sniff of pain. They didn't want me anyway.
Stunned and confused, Miroku reached out to her, his hand settling on hers. Something horrible had happened to Sango, and it scared him to see her like this. "Of course they care about you, what makes you think they don't?"
As Sango recounted a chain of events starting with Myouga waking her in the night, it became difficult to hold back the tears. They finally broke free as she told of watching him be sucked into his own Kazaana, the voices of the others. "And then Kaede said it would be better if I was dead."
"It was just a dream." Stroking her hair, he cradled her cheek against his shoulder. He knew he had never done this, but he remembered all the times he thought he had. "Do you remember the night I woke up screaming your name?" Against him, she nodded, unable to speak through the tears. "I dreamed you had died, it was my fault. It seemed so real, but it never happened. You didn't die... like that."
Sango pulled back, her eyes unable to look at him. "But I let you die."
"Sango, listen to me. You didn't kill me, none of this has been your fault. You take the blame sooner than you should." Using his finger, he lifted her chin, looking into her desperate eyes. "I would have died a long time ago without you."
"Houshi-sama, I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise you won't go away again."
"I promise, I will stay right-"
Any further words that might have been on his lips were trapped under hers as she kissed him, holding him tight. The pain of being alone, of watching him with other girls, of knowing that she could loose him, it was all over. Only death could have pulled her from his side, and that was done. They would always be together, she could accept that. Breaking the kiss, she rested her chin in the join of his neck and shoulder, while she rubbed her temple comfortingly on his jaw. His warmth gave her the strength she needed, his scent the purpose she had lost when Inuyasha had returned alone. She only needed to know one thing, and she could be happy. "Houshi-sama, how did I die?"
Raising his nose from the long, fine strands of her hair, Miroku frowned in confusion. "In my dream?"
Leaning back from him, studying his face, Sango shook her head. "How did I really die?"
Frowning slightly in confusion, Miroku shook his head. "Sango, you are not dead."
"But I can see you. If you aren't a ghost, how else...." A look of angry realization swarmed across the huntress' face as she pushed herself away from Miroku. Her face flashed red, then drained as she hissed at him, "You bastard." Climbing to her feet, she could feel the rage welling inside her. "YOU BASTARD!!"
Miroku had started to climb to his feet, only to be nearly knocked from them by her fist. "YOU MISERABLE, LYING BASTARD!!! YOU AREN'T DEAD!" Before he could recover from the first blow, Miroku was struck several more times, each one just as punishing.
Sprawled there, the first thing he heard was sobbing. As his eyes regained their focus, he could see her sitting with her face in her hands. Ignoring the split and bleeding lip, he stretched his hand to her, only to have it slapped away.
"You lied to me! Why! Why did you do that to me?"
"Because I thought you still loved Kiyoshi. I wanted to die, but I couldn't." Rubbing a bruised side, the normally eloquent monk struggled for his words. "Sango, you are the single best thing that has ever happened to me, better than being born. I didn't want to walk away, but I couldn't stay."
Something inside her told Sango his hand was moving in her direction again. Her rage smoldering, she flexed her arm, baring the blades hidden in her armour, before stabbing them into the soil, with one on either side of his wrist. "If you ever touch me again, I will kill you. Do you hear me?" Yanking the blades free, she turned away, her body racked by tears and shame.
After many long minutes, she realized through the pain he was still there. Whirling towards him as she rose to her feet, her hand snatched Hairikitsu from where it lay. "What? You think this is funny? You think playing with my heart is a game?" Raising her massive weapon high, she waited for him to say something , to flinch, but he was still staring at where steel had torn gouts in the soil on either side of his cursed hand. "Answer me!"
Slowly pulling his hand back, Miroku rose to his knees and bowed, baring his neck. "I'm sorry, Sango-sama."
"Why? Why did you do this to me?"
Still looking to the ground, Miroku drew a deep breath. "Because I didn't want to hurt you. I will hurt you. I have no future, no past. Kiyoshi was your past, he was a connection to everything you want to rebuild. I was afraid you would go back to him, and that you might not. If you stay with me, you will have to watch my curse kill me. With him, you might have had a life, a normal life, a family, after this is over. I wanted you to be happy." Slowly, he raised his head as Sango lowered her weapon.
"You made Inuyasha tell me you were dead, so I could be happy?" Sango shook her head, the anger starting to cool in her eyes. She rested one end of the Hairikitsu in the ground, leaning on it as she found just how much her shoulder hurt.
Standing, Miroku nodded, unable to look at her again. "I just wanted what was best for you. I have no future. If I'm around, none of you do. I can't give you what you want, Sango. I'm sorry." Without another word, he turned to walk away.
Seeing his back, Sango felt as if all the emotions of the past month had been bundled and dumped onto her in a single heartbeat. "Where do you think you're going, Houshi-sama?"
Pausing, Miroku looked up the trees, his shoulders sagging. "I don't know. Someplace else."
"No, you aren't." Taking the three steps to his side, she grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her. "You promised me you weren't leaving." Sango wrapped her arms around his, hugging him tightly as she felt blood thudding through his veins.
Miroku didn't, couldn't react. Moments before, she had been ready to kill him in a fit of rage, and now he couldn't leave. "Uh, Sango, I'm touching you."
"Shut up, baka." Pushing him back a little, holding him at arm's length, Sango smiled oddly. "You have made me several oaths. I am not about to relieve you of them, and you would dishonor yourself if you broke them. A Hunter's man must have honor. You are staying where I can keep an eye on you, even if I have to tie you up."
Hunter's man? "Huh?"
Releasing her monk, Sango stepped back. "Later, Houshi-sama. In the morning." Kneeling, she fed wood to the fire, then brushed her hands. "It has been a long few days, and tomorrow will be longer. We will need our sleep if we are to be to Keade's in three days."
Nodding to herself, Kirara stretched and stood from where she had been watching. To her, it was as it should be. Turning, she crept back into the forest, looking for her delayed diner. Sniffing the ground for trails, her ears picked up the signs that her life were officially back to normal. The sound of one hand smacking another, and her mistress' voice directed at Airhand.
"Don't press your luck, bozou."
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Author's notes:
See, I told you it would have a happy ending. I hope everyone followed Kirara's names for everyone- Storm-eyes = Kiyoshi; Airhand = Miroku; Whitedog = Inuyasha.
Soundtracking... wow, lots of music went into the writing of this. Too much to list. There was one big one, though. Evanescence's Forgive Me, It just seemed to scream the theme of this tale. Monk and Hunter, each made a variation on the same mistake, a lack of faith and a perception of betrayal. At times, when that song played, I could hear one, or the other, or both, singing it. Of course, lots of caffiene helps with that kind of thing.
For a fic (novella?) that was originally going to be a Miroku-Sango-Kiyoshi triangle, this ended up effecting everyone a lot. The epilouge may have been a little monk-centric, but Miroku really hasn't been there through all of this. He was busy hiding, while Sango was in pain. That sonuvabitch. That miserable, lying, honorless, sack of filth!
Maybe I'll rewrite this to be more Kirara-centric...