Disclaimer-I don't own any Inu-Yasha characters.
Bleeding Wrists and Violet Eyes.
Pain, swirling and intensifing around her. She couldn't stand it. The guilt, the pain, all her fault. She needed release. Becauase it was her fault. Because of a moments
hesitation, she had hurt those she loved, those she trusted. Kagome, Inu-Yasha, Shippou, Kirara. Miroku.
And that's why she there tonight, dagger in hand, her legs dangling off the tall stone wall. Her long kimono sleeves had been pulled back, showing the scars
covering her arm. These scars hadn't come from any demon, hadn't come from any enemy. They had been made by Sango herself. On nights like these, soon after the
devastating massacre of her kin, she had been cutting herself. In truth, she had been doing so since she was 10, when her mother took her own life. After 7 years of
tormenting herself over her mothers death, she had finally forgave herself. Until Naraku took control of Kohaku. And killed everyone she loved.
That bastard! I'll avenge them, I swear I will. And then, I can rest, just like Momma did. With thoughts of freedom in mind, she held the sharp blade in her hands and
sliced vertically along her arm, from the bottom of her palm to her elbow. The blood welled out, drenching her sleeve. Normally, she would wrap her arm, wait for it to heal
before trying again. After temporary release, she ws usually able to continue her life. But not tonight.
"Lady Sango? Are you ok?" Miroku called, walking towards the wall. Her heart jumped, worried he might have seen her, might find out her secret. She pulled her
sleeve down, covering the bleeding. He climbed the steps on the side of the wall, limping because of his recent injury.
Damnitt! It's all my fault that stupid bear demon was able to hurt him. All my fault..... He sat next to her, his feet dangling over the edge. He looked at her, the moon
reflecting off his face.
"Of course Houshi-sama. Why do you ask?" Her voice wavered slightly as she looked down to the ground. He cupped her chin and lifted her face up, and she
couldn't help looking into his eyes, so beautiful, so emotion-filled. She avoided his gaze once again, looking to the ground.
"I was worried about you, Lady Sango. You seemed rather depressed when we came back from that last battle. And not even Inu-Yasha believed that you
where going to survey the surrondings." He carressed her chin, surprising her so that she nearly fell off the wall. "Can't I be allowed to worry about you a little bit?" His
voice sounded so serious, his violet eyes looked so hurt.
"I...I'm fine Miroku. Really, I am....you really don't need to worry. In fact, we should be more worried about you. How is your leg?" A desperate attempt to change
the subject, obviously not working on him. Did she really expect it to? Of course not. He could always see past her lies.
"My leg is fine. Unlike you. Don't try and change the subject." He took her hands in his, and she forgot about the blood soaking her sleeves. Everything was
becoming hazy, and she wasn't sure if it was from having Miroku be worried about her, or blood loss. She looked into his eyes as he held her hands, and she felt his grip
tighten as he felt the blood trickle down them, into her upturned palm. "Sango!" He pulled up her sleeve, the dirty, bloodsoaked sleeve. His beautiful violet eyes looked at all
the scars, all the blood.
"Sango, how long have you been doing this???" His became raspy as he looked into her eyes, then at her sleeves. How touching that he really cared...she would
have to kiss him for it later. But first she needed to answer his question. Her head started hurting as she tried to remeber the first time she had cut herself.
"When I was ten...after my mother died." She was definately suffering blood loss. "Promise you won't tell the funny doggy boy? He would say I'm weak....Kohaku,
tell Miroku I need to tell him something, ok? I need to tell him I love him, but I'm sure he'll just laugh. Stupid hentai....." And before he could catch her, so stunned was he
by her words, she fell off the wall and onto the grass below, sinking into unconsciousness.
Bleeding Wrists and Violet Eyes.
Pain, swirling and intensifing around her. She couldn't stand it. The guilt, the pain, all her fault. She needed release. Becauase it was her fault. Because of a moments
hesitation, she had hurt those she loved, those she trusted. Kagome, Inu-Yasha, Shippou, Kirara. Miroku.
And that's why she there tonight, dagger in hand, her legs dangling off the tall stone wall. Her long kimono sleeves had been pulled back, showing the scars
covering her arm. These scars hadn't come from any demon, hadn't come from any enemy. They had been made by Sango herself. On nights like these, soon after the
devastating massacre of her kin, she had been cutting herself. In truth, she had been doing so since she was 10, when her mother took her own life. After 7 years of
tormenting herself over her mothers death, she had finally forgave herself. Until Naraku took control of Kohaku. And killed everyone she loved.
That bastard! I'll avenge them, I swear I will. And then, I can rest, just like Momma did. With thoughts of freedom in mind, she held the sharp blade in her hands and
sliced vertically along her arm, from the bottom of her palm to her elbow. The blood welled out, drenching her sleeve. Normally, she would wrap her arm, wait for it to heal
before trying again. After temporary release, she ws usually able to continue her life. But not tonight.
"Lady Sango? Are you ok?" Miroku called, walking towards the wall. Her heart jumped, worried he might have seen her, might find out her secret. She pulled her
sleeve down, covering the bleeding. He climbed the steps on the side of the wall, limping because of his recent injury.
Damnitt! It's all my fault that stupid bear demon was able to hurt him. All my fault..... He sat next to her, his feet dangling over the edge. He looked at her, the moon
reflecting off his face.
"Of course Houshi-sama. Why do you ask?" Her voice wavered slightly as she looked down to the ground. He cupped her chin and lifted her face up, and she
couldn't help looking into his eyes, so beautiful, so emotion-filled. She avoided his gaze once again, looking to the ground.
"I was worried about you, Lady Sango. You seemed rather depressed when we came back from that last battle. And not even Inu-Yasha believed that you
where going to survey the surrondings." He carressed her chin, surprising her so that she nearly fell off the wall. "Can't I be allowed to worry about you a little bit?" His
voice sounded so serious, his violet eyes looked so hurt.
"I...I'm fine Miroku. Really, I am....you really don't need to worry. In fact, we should be more worried about you. How is your leg?" A desperate attempt to change
the subject, obviously not working on him. Did she really expect it to? Of course not. He could always see past her lies.
"My leg is fine. Unlike you. Don't try and change the subject." He took her hands in his, and she forgot about the blood soaking her sleeves. Everything was
becoming hazy, and she wasn't sure if it was from having Miroku be worried about her, or blood loss. She looked into his eyes as he held her hands, and she felt his grip
tighten as he felt the blood trickle down them, into her upturned palm. "Sango!" He pulled up her sleeve, the dirty, bloodsoaked sleeve. His beautiful violet eyes looked at all
the scars, all the blood.
"Sango, how long have you been doing this???" His became raspy as he looked into her eyes, then at her sleeves. How touching that he really cared...she would
have to kiss him for it later. But first she needed to answer his question. Her head started hurting as she tried to remeber the first time she had cut herself.
"When I was ten...after my mother died." She was definately suffering blood loss. "Promise you won't tell the funny doggy boy? He would say I'm weak....Kohaku,
tell Miroku I need to tell him something, ok? I need to tell him I love him, but I'm sure he'll just laugh. Stupid hentai....." And before he could catch her, so stunned was he
by her words, she fell off the wall and onto the grass below, sinking into unconsciousness.