Okay. Here's how it works. I have had this chapter complete for a week now. We just finished moving, and I only just got my internet back. Kudos and Pocky to those wonderful, wonderful people who put up with my ridiculous, inexcusable update schedule. Hopefully, now that things here are speeding up, updates will be more regular.

Also, this is important. In this chapter, Sango is going to seem a little out of character. This is because she was assaulted the night before, and honestly, when that happens, certain facets of the personality do change, mmkay? Good.

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Day Four: One Step Forward . . .

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When Sango awoke, she was still in Miroku's arms. Realization flooded her, and she blushed fiercely. She had left herself so vulnerable, so helpless! It made her feel foolish, and for a moment, she wondered what would have happened if Miroku hadn't shown up. Would Raidon have . . . No, she told herself, shaking away the terrible thought that threatened to overwhelm her. However, it made her think. Miroku had such control over himself, such patience. He radiated power at times, as he had the day before. Sango shivered, and felt his arms tighten around her.

Was he awake? She froze a moment, and listened carefully. The only sounds were the forest – a blend of animals, harmless youkai, and the river – and his rhythmic breathing. So he was still dead to the world. It must have been an instinctive thing.

This brought her mind to another train of thought. Just what had she been doing, throwing herself at him? She was a strong taiji-ya, not a weak little girl who needed protection. There was no need to cast her burdens on to Miroku. He had his own worries, his own devils to fight. She twisted her upper body just enough to look at his face. Quiet, and happy in sleep, he didn't seem to carry the Kazaana in his sleep, as he did when he woke.

'What would we have been like,' she wondered, 'if none of this had happened? If Naraku hadn't cursed his family, hadn't killed mine.'

She paused in her thoughts, and corrected herself. 'If Naraku hadn't tried to kill my family,' she thought stubbornly. 'Kohaku is alive, and we can help him.'

Even though, in the back of her mind, she knew the time would come for the Shikon shard in Kohaku's back to be removed, she wouldn't let go of the hope that he would be okay. That there was something, someone, who could somehow give her back her little brother. It would hurt all the more when the time came, and nothing happened, but she didn't care. Her juvenile mentality comforted her.

She pushed her mind back to the problem at hand. She was curled, quite comfortably, in Miroku's lap, where she had apparently spent the night. The fire had gone out on its own, they were lucky it hadn't spread. Miroku's arms were wrapped around her waist, not moving anywhere. He sported no middle-of-the-night bruises, so he hadn't tried anything. Good. A yawn cracked Miroku's jaw, as well as her thoughts, and she flushed. He was awake, and they were still tangled up! It was a good thing Kagome-chan and Inuyasha were away.

Miroku blinked down at Sango, whose cheeks were tinged pink, and smiled.

'She's so cute when she does that,' he thought affectionately, rolling his neck around, getting the kinks out of his muscles.

"Ano, Houshi-sama?" she prodded quietly, "Can . . . can you let go now?"

Sango slapped herself mentally. Why was she being so nervous? It wasn't as if she was doing anything wrong, asking him to let go of her. After all, they needed to get up. Kirara lay beside them, still small, still sleeping. Miroku nodded, and removed his arms from around her waist. She stood and stretched, giving a yawn almost as long as Miroku's.

He stood as well, watching her twist and turn to loosen her muscles. She didn't need a protector, he knew that. But she was nervous. Her movements betrayed a worry that her face didn't show. There was something outside her control, something she couldn't take care of on her own. Was it Raidon? Was he somehow the cause of her stress? Of course he was, the jerk. What had happened the night before, to make her so upset?

'Sango,' he sighed to himself, 'What happened between you that you won't talk about?'

Sango sat down to cook a late breakfast, the sun was already risen high. When Miroku walked up behind her, she didn't tense, or pay it any mind, as she would have once. She made note of where he was, and continued preparing for the first meal of the day.

When his hands touched her shoulders, though, she jumped. He stepped back. Raising the offending hands in a gesture of peace.

"Calm yourself, Sango. You're quite tense, I noticed," he said. She nodded warily.

"I thought I might offer to work some of the knots out of your muscles, if you'd like."

Miroku smiled to himself when that pink tint returned to Sango's cheeks, and she nodded. He sat behind her, and laid his hands once more on her shoulders. Leaning forward, he put his mouth next to her ear.

"I made a promise, Sango," he whispered, and she gave a shudder. "Whatever you think of me, know that I always keep my vows."

He began to knead and massage the muscles in her shoulders, and almost instantly a cool glow surrounded her. She couldn't help the little sigh that escaped her, as his hands expertly found and released the tension of her shoulders. She continued to prepare their meal as he kneaded, pressed, and calmed her tense body. He picked her hair up and pulled it over her shoulders, moving to her back.

When he finished, Sango turned, and handed him a small bowl of rice, and a bit of fish. He smiled.

"Have you calmed down at all, Sango?" he asked, nibbling on a bit of the rice.

"Hai," she said, moving to sit next to him. Miroku looked at her. Her face was quiet, unreadable. Would now be the time to ask her what had transpired the night before? He could only try, and hope.

"Sango?"

The taiji-ya in question looked up from her rice, brown eyes, searching Miroku's face.

"Hai, Houshi-sama?"

"Would it be rude . . ." he paused. Sango's happiness was his one goal, and if he didn't watch it, he could be working against himself. Starting again, he sighed.

"May I ask you what transpired last night, between Raidon-san and yourself? I'll take no offence if you don't want to answer."

Sango looked at him, a shocked expression crossing her face. She didn't want to think about it any more. But . . . wasn't that what stopped Kohaku from regaining his memory? He didn't want to remember that night either.

In the end, that was what steeled her answer.

"Hai," she whispered. Never had one syllable held so much worth to her. He put down his meal and turned his full attention to her.

"I was . . . waiting for you to return from meditation," she started, cringing at how silly she sounded. There was no reason to worry, she was a taiji-ya. She was strong. She could talk about a small problem like last night's attack.

If only it didn't feel quite so big.

Miroku put an arm around her shoulders, surprising her. She leaned into him, rather unnerved by the casual, comforting touch, and continued.

"I was sitting here, waxing hiraikotsu to pass the time. What were you thinking about, Houshi-sama? You took a while," she asked suddenly. Miroku blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.

"You," he said, caught off guard and surprised into honesty. Sango went the adorable pink shade he loved so much, and looked down.

"Onegai, Sango, continue," he said, hoping she would ask no more questions. She nodded, and went on.

"Raidon appeared, out of nowhere. He said he just wanted to talk. I was foolish," she admitted, "I let down my guard, and I shouldn't have. He asked if I was 'claimed' by anyone. I . . . said no."

Words are small things, holding meaning only if you give them the power. Silence, however, holds sway over everything, and the pause after three simple words, alone useless, but together potent, was taut. It stretched like wire splitting everything, until it cracked. Miroku nodded, his face schooled blank. It was understandable, of course. He held no claim to her.

'You want a claim, though, don't you?' a wicked voice in the back of his mind sniggered at him. 'You want to be able to sit like this with her when Raidon comes, and tell him that he no longer can have her.'

He gave a small sigh, pointedly ignoring the voice. After all, you hadn't lost it, they said, until you responded to the voices.

Noticing his silence, and feeling somehow as if she'd done, or said, something wrong, Sango forged ahead in her story.

"He, he mentioned you," she said quietly.

"Did he?" Miroku raised his eyebrows. When had it gotten so quiet? It was sickening, not knowing. He had an inkling of what was going on now, and if he was correct, man of Buddha or no, he would make certain that he ripped off Raidon's fingernails and peeled his skin off with them.

"He said he was surprised. He thought that even you . . . would have noticed me by now. Silly, isn't it? After all, I'm just another girl to you."

She gasped at her own boldness, clapping her hands over her mouth and looking away. Why had she said that? It was as if she was possessed or something . . .

'Liar,' a tiny voice giggled at her. 'You said it because you want to know, don't you? You want to know how he feels.'

'Shut up,' she growled to the chipper inner voice. After all, you weren't insane until you lost the argument. She didn't meet Miroku's eyes until he cupped her chin and turned her face. His eyes were hurt, though his face was calm.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked. Part of him didn't want to know the answer, and it went against everything in him to ask, but he did.

"I . . ."

"This is looking quite cozy, isn't it?" a voice said, and both of them whirled around, looking guiltily up at the handsome, smirking face of Raidon.

"Ano . . . We were just . . ." Sango looked down at a particularly interesting piece of grass. Kirara growled.

"Sango was just filling me in on last night's events, since I seemed to have missed so much. Perhaps you could finish for her?"

Miroku stood, holding his staff peaceably.

"Lover's quarrel," he spat out, glaring at Sango. She was still fascinated by the particular shade of green the ground was. Miroku couldn't help feeling there was more to it.

"You know sir, I feel inclined to ask why you are here," he said simply, instead of verbally maiming the man who was causing the taiji-ya so much discomfort.

"I'll be staying, bouzu. She is my fiancée after all," he said in a cold voice. Miroku looked at Sango, but there would be no more from her.

The three of them sat in chilled silence for a long while. At one point, Raidon got up to go to the latrine, dug far enough off so that no prying eyes could see. It also meant that the camp was not visible from the latrine.

During this moment, Sango slid over to where Miroku was seated. He looked at her, she was pink again.

'Is she ill? She's beautiful when she blushes like that, but she's been red so much of the day . . .'

His train of thought was cut short by a sharp shock.

Sango was kissing him. Her soft, warm lips met his for a brief, sweet moment, and it was over before he could kiss her back.

Not the most dazzling first kiss in history, but a first kiss all the same. He smiled dizzily.

"Arigato, Miroku," she whispered into his ear, before sliding back into her seat by another tree. Raidon came back moments later, and that was the last they spoke that evening.

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Miroku walked quietly to the well, where he was to meet with Kagome. He was met with a rock to the head. Giving the quietest curse, he hissed:

"Nani? Who's there?"

A glowering Kagome stalked out of the shadows, and Miroku took a step back. She was pissed.

"Where were you, exactly, last night?"

He grinned.

"Ano, well, I can actually explain!"

Explaining to her the events from last evening to that moment, Kagome's glower became a cheery grin.

"I can't believe it! We're making progress! Great job, Miroku-sama!"

She hugged him tightly, and he grinned down at her, giving her a gentle hug back. Their chaste moment of happiness was short and simple, but well deserved. After all, they just took a huge step forward. They both sobered after a minute, and sat down to set up the chess board.

Neither of them noticed the yellow-garbed figure move back toward the camp.

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Vocab:

Hai: Yes

Nani: What

Gomen (nasai): Sorry

Arigato: Thanks/Thank you

Onegai: Please

Hentai: Pervert

Houshi: Low-level monk

Bouzu: Disrespectful term for low-level monk

Taiji-ya: (Demon) Exterminator

Hiraikotsu: Flying bone (Sango's boomerang)

Hanyou: Half-demon

Youkai: Demon

Miko: Priestess

Ramen: Instant noodles

Kitsune: Fox

Neko: Cat-Demon

Kazaana: Air Void (Miroku's Wind Tunnel)

Shakujo: Miroku's staff with the rings (it has little blades on it, I'm serious)

Ano: Um…