I like writing this fic.. But I dun own the chars..
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Miroku winced, a hand shooting to cling to his robes where there was obvious discomfort in the wounds ripped by the arrows impact. Frowning, Sango reached forth, taking his hand, where it clenched furriously, as though trying to squeeze the pain from his chest, oblivious to the fact he gripped instad at her palm. His breathing had gone ragged, but as receded his grip receded his gasps for breath. His face was flushed, lines of angush carved into it, though the lines were fading as well, when he calmed again. Perspiration dotted his brow. For the first time Sango could recall, Miroku seemed vulnerable.
For a while he had been murmuring incoherently, but soon the houshis words began to take shape. Sango frowned, listening to his weak whispers. "Alone..." He murmured, stirring slightly, as though to wake, before settling again. "They died...And I'm alone. Okaasan as I was born. Otousan when I was five. And now.." He paused, sighing in the restless slumber of memories, from which he coulde not be pried. "There is Sango.." Sango blinked at the mention of her name, wondering just what Miroku ment.
"I can't allow her to love me...It wouldn't be fair if she was hurt again. She's lost everything. Loving me would be pointless.. I'm already lost.. Like otousan... Only I still must wait for it to consume me.. So... I have to prevent it.. Kami-sama knows I don't like to make her angery.. But making her sad is far worse. I have to keep her away... It is her happiness that matters. Not mine."
The taijiya frowned, digesting what she had heard. He had virtually lost his life at five years old. Since he had seen his father die, she was sure he felt it would happen to him. So rather than risk being happy himself and upseting her in the end, he'd rather her be happy. It scared her. How could one person care so much? It didn't seem possible. Yet it was. And he was proof of it.
"Atleast.. She can find another. She is beautiful. It should be easy. Who could care for a letcher? It's who I am... It may be a bit exagerated, to be sure she doesn't manage to fall for me, and risk her chances at having a good life.. But it is still me. Even so. It does not matter. She will be happy. That really is all that does..."
Sango frowned. He was confusing her. Did she care for the monk? Did she love him? She wasn't sure. She thought she did, however. Would he be angery if he knew?
"Though..If it weren't for Naraku...We'd never have met. I suppose I owe the demon for that. Yet even that does not make up for what he did. If I could, I would go back in time, and stop Naraku from doing as he did to her." The houshi whinced again slightly, and she looked at his hand, realising how tightly she had been holding it. Placing it getnally over his chest, she brushed ebony strands of hair from his face, watching him sleep worriedly. Whimpering, she thought about what he had said, gazing at his frail form, that seemed finally to have relaxed. What if he died? Tears welled in the taijiyas eyes.
"Miroku...You must wake up!" As the words flickered and danced throuygh the houshis mind, he realised his earlier awakenening had been a dream. All of it. The delicate kiss, her wonderful words..All a dream. The only reality had been the darkness purging between each dream...As well as his memories. Memories... He had been think aloud. He could tell. His throat hurt.. His eyes clenching, he attempted to rememeber what had been said, frowning as the words finally were clear to him. Sango would not be happy.
Sango....She was the one who wanted him to wake.
Dimly once more, words echoed through Mirokus mind, rippling and making little sence, as if he were underwater. He wished he could dream again; he had enjoyed the dream. Though too quickly was he being pulled as if against his will to consciousness. Back from the dream, to the eveloping dark road. Back further, groaning softly as awearness became his.
"Miroku..Onagai..Wake up..." She wimpered, drawing close to him. Everything was backwards. Everything was wrong. If he died.. She would only have the weak hope of finding and rescuing Kohaku. Sangos eyes clenched closed, as slow streams of tears streaked down her cheeks. Frowning, she began to rock back and forth.
His eyelids fluttered. His blurry gaze landed upon the weeping taijiya. Was she crying..Over him? Had he caused her such pain?
He could think of two things he could do to try and make her stop crying. Grope her, or not grope her. One seemed inappropriate. So with a timid hand, he reached foreward. Slowely he brought it to his objective. A finger brushed softly against it. She flinched, but didn't look up.
Ignoring her responce, the houshi traced on hand gentally across her tear stricken cheek, and then the other, brushing away what of the tears he could. Her eyes flicked open, and she regarded him in shocked silence. A few moments later, she seemed to sence he was alive. "M-Miroku?" She bit her lip softly, watching his hand drop limply at his side.
With little hessitation, the houshi took her into a weak embrace, one from which she made no attempt to break from. "I'm so sorry, Sango..So, so sorry.." He murmured, tracing soft patterns upon her back, as she buried her head in his chest, weeping softly. He was the cause of her pain. It hurt so baddly to see her cry, with nothing he could do to make it stop, without hurting her further, one way or another. "I really am."
She merely sniffed, and he senced her tears had stopped. Yet, remarkably, she made no attempt to pull away. "You slipped up...No matter how carefully you tried to hide from me, I could still see the real you..Enough of it. Did you really think trickery would keep me from caring about you? From loving you in return?" Her words were slightly muffled, given her face remained burried in his chest, but they were there. And he gaped.
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Yay! Drama! And a tiny bit of fluff...:) More to come
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Miroku winced, a hand shooting to cling to his robes where there was obvious discomfort in the wounds ripped by the arrows impact. Frowning, Sango reached forth, taking his hand, where it clenched furriously, as though trying to squeeze the pain from his chest, oblivious to the fact he gripped instad at her palm. His breathing had gone ragged, but as receded his grip receded his gasps for breath. His face was flushed, lines of angush carved into it, though the lines were fading as well, when he calmed again. Perspiration dotted his brow. For the first time Sango could recall, Miroku seemed vulnerable.
For a while he had been murmuring incoherently, but soon the houshis words began to take shape. Sango frowned, listening to his weak whispers. "Alone..." He murmured, stirring slightly, as though to wake, before settling again. "They died...And I'm alone. Okaasan as I was born. Otousan when I was five. And now.." He paused, sighing in the restless slumber of memories, from which he coulde not be pried. "There is Sango.." Sango blinked at the mention of her name, wondering just what Miroku ment.
"I can't allow her to love me...It wouldn't be fair if she was hurt again. She's lost everything. Loving me would be pointless.. I'm already lost.. Like otousan... Only I still must wait for it to consume me.. So... I have to prevent it.. Kami-sama knows I don't like to make her angery.. But making her sad is far worse. I have to keep her away... It is her happiness that matters. Not mine."
The taijiya frowned, digesting what she had heard. He had virtually lost his life at five years old. Since he had seen his father die, she was sure he felt it would happen to him. So rather than risk being happy himself and upseting her in the end, he'd rather her be happy. It scared her. How could one person care so much? It didn't seem possible. Yet it was. And he was proof of it.
"Atleast.. She can find another. She is beautiful. It should be easy. Who could care for a letcher? It's who I am... It may be a bit exagerated, to be sure she doesn't manage to fall for me, and risk her chances at having a good life.. But it is still me. Even so. It does not matter. She will be happy. That really is all that does..."
Sango frowned. He was confusing her. Did she care for the monk? Did she love him? She wasn't sure. She thought she did, however. Would he be angery if he knew?
"Though..If it weren't for Naraku...We'd never have met. I suppose I owe the demon for that. Yet even that does not make up for what he did. If I could, I would go back in time, and stop Naraku from doing as he did to her." The houshi whinced again slightly, and she looked at his hand, realising how tightly she had been holding it. Placing it getnally over his chest, she brushed ebony strands of hair from his face, watching him sleep worriedly. Whimpering, she thought about what he had said, gazing at his frail form, that seemed finally to have relaxed. What if he died? Tears welled in the taijiyas eyes.
"Miroku...You must wake up!" As the words flickered and danced throuygh the houshis mind, he realised his earlier awakenening had been a dream. All of it. The delicate kiss, her wonderful words..All a dream. The only reality had been the darkness purging between each dream...As well as his memories. Memories... He had been think aloud. He could tell. His throat hurt.. His eyes clenching, he attempted to rememeber what had been said, frowning as the words finally were clear to him. Sango would not be happy.
Sango....She was the one who wanted him to wake.
Dimly once more, words echoed through Mirokus mind, rippling and making little sence, as if he were underwater. He wished he could dream again; he had enjoyed the dream. Though too quickly was he being pulled as if against his will to consciousness. Back from the dream, to the eveloping dark road. Back further, groaning softly as awearness became his.
"Miroku..Onagai..Wake up..." She wimpered, drawing close to him. Everything was backwards. Everything was wrong. If he died.. She would only have the weak hope of finding and rescuing Kohaku. Sangos eyes clenched closed, as slow streams of tears streaked down her cheeks. Frowning, she began to rock back and forth.
His eyelids fluttered. His blurry gaze landed upon the weeping taijiya. Was she crying..Over him? Had he caused her such pain?
He could think of two things he could do to try and make her stop crying. Grope her, or not grope her. One seemed inappropriate. So with a timid hand, he reached foreward. Slowely he brought it to his objective. A finger brushed softly against it. She flinched, but didn't look up.
Ignoring her responce, the houshi traced on hand gentally across her tear stricken cheek, and then the other, brushing away what of the tears he could. Her eyes flicked open, and she regarded him in shocked silence. A few moments later, she seemed to sence he was alive. "M-Miroku?" She bit her lip softly, watching his hand drop limply at his side.
With little hessitation, the houshi took her into a weak embrace, one from which she made no attempt to break from. "I'm so sorry, Sango..So, so sorry.." He murmured, tracing soft patterns upon her back, as she buried her head in his chest, weeping softly. He was the cause of her pain. It hurt so baddly to see her cry, with nothing he could do to make it stop, without hurting her further, one way or another. "I really am."
She merely sniffed, and he senced her tears had stopped. Yet, remarkably, she made no attempt to pull away. "You slipped up...No matter how carefully you tried to hide from me, I could still see the real you..Enough of it. Did you really think trickery would keep me from caring about you? From loving you in return?" Her words were slightly muffled, given her face remained burried in his chest, but they were there. And he gaped.
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Yay! Drama! And a tiny bit of fluff...:) More to come