By Scribe of Figaro
SANGO'S SORROW: PART I
For all my life.
When you're with me, baby, the skies will be blue
For all my life."
- The Turtles, "Happy Together"
She smiled as she saw the expanse of homes before her, for they were nearing the first village in several days. Yet another night of sleeping on the cold, hard ground was avoided. Though she appreciated the sleeping bag that Kagome had supplied her, and though, as a taiji-ya, she was well-suited for uncomfortable encampments in dark and dreary places, this was not the same as saying she enjoyed them. A good bath and good meal – or perhaps more than one – were the few benefits of their journey, and the absence of such simple pleasures as they traveled made them so much sweeter.
She turned to her friends. There was Kagome, the young girl who had all too quickly become her best friend. They had nothing in common – she was from another world, another time. She was cheerful and bright at times, sad at others, and often, usually due to Inuyasha, she became quite angry indeed.
Well, perhaps they had a few things in common.
Sango wished she had the freedom in her heart to bare her deeper emotions, to let people know how she felt. These were her friends, and she had no need to hide herself, to be so withdrawn all the time, to keep silent the sadness and fear and rage that seemed to drive her on this journey. She had cried on Kagome's lap not long after meeting her, shedding the first tears for her brother, her father, her village, everyone she had ever known or cared for over her entire life. It hurt to release those feelings, to have her rescuers, the people she betrayed to Naraku for the life of her brother. Even then she knew Naraku was lying, knew there was no chance he would release Kohaku, but she could not resist the temptation to try. Naraku controlled his body, perhaps even his soul, and with that he could control Sango's heart.
The tears shed for her loved ones on Kagome's kimono were bitter with the frustration, with the anger, and with the pain of knowing that she too had been controlled by Naraku, first through the Shikon shard so that she would be made to kill Inuyaysa, then by her brother's life so that she would steal Inuyasha's precious sword, Tetsusaiga.
She was a fool, a complete fool, for allowing herself to be led this way. She had nearly taken the life of innocents, nearly handed them to Naraku. And yet they rescued her from the trap she willingly marched into. Though she never apologized to them, though she told them outright that she would probably betray them again, they welcomed her back with open arms. Despite her attempts to kill them, despite her violation of their trust, they made her one of them, treated her as an equal, with compassion, and never, ever burdened her by so much as speaking of the pains she had caused them.
She had found friendship in these people. She, a young taiji-ya, a female one at that, had found a place among equals. There was love there, or something like it. But, though she could trust them with her life she still found it difficult to trust them with her feelings, and even in chattering, somewhat girly moments with Kagome – moments she thought she might have grown out of after the tragedies she had barely survived, moments where she remembered for a time that she really was a woman – her heart remained guarded.
Still, friendship didn't come anywhere near describing the bonds between them. They argued, they fought, they got mad, but they were always, always there for each other. They were like family.
Perhaps they were a family.
She turned from the girl to her right, now looking to the robed figure on her left. Miroku, the corrupted houshi.
She smiled lightly. There was something strong between her and Miroku, though she couldn't quite define it. He lost his family to Naraku as she had. He fought with grace and strength, as she did. He carried a curse given to him by Naraku, limiting his time here on this world so long as Naraku lived. Similarly, Naraku's hold of her brother made her desperate to destroy the creature.
But Miroku was strong, so much stronger than she. She watched him fight, always. He seemed to fear nothing. He boldly marched into inevitable death, as she did, but never did he show fear and always did he succeed.
There was one exception: the oni's head that disguised itself as a princess, that captured Miroku in her cave with her powerful jaki. Sango had tried to rescue him, became captured as well, and through some luck Miroku was barely able to save both their lives.
He told me he thought he was going to die. It was the first time I had honestly seen him scared for his own life. To be immobilized, to be rendered helpless in the face of danger, this must be close to his greatest fears. So long as he was able to act, even against a far superior foe, I think he might never despair.
I never told him so, but seeing tremble in fear after scaring off the demon scared me too. And yet, in some primal way, I enjoyed seeing his fear. Seeing his feelings bare, naked, sort of excited me.
He too was quiet, was contemplative, was alone. More alone than all of them, she thought, for while she could chatter and gossip with Kagome whenever she felt the need to, Miroku could find no such solace in Inuyasha. Perhaps his training as a monk prepared him for such a life. Perhaps his curse made it difficult for him to reach out to others anyway. Perhaps he already considered himself as dead, living only on borrowed time.
She longed for him sometimes, wanting to hug him, to reassure him. Even when he smiled he seemed sad. She sometimes thought of embracing him, of kissing him, of finding a home for herself in his arms.
But such things could never be, for he was still a lecher, and though she didn't doubt the sincerity of the kind words he often spoke to her, she could not give her heart to a man that would not be hers alone.
He turned to her, noticing her stare. She fought down a blush as his eyes, round and questioning and full of kindness, seemed to envelop her.
"Ano. . . Houshi-sama," she blurted out. "It looks like we're going to be sleeping in warm beds, tonight. That is, if you're going to run your honorable youkai exorcist routine."
It took her a while to recognize his manner of speaking, to truly know him, and she could tell when the sincerity drained from his voice, though few others could.
He feigned hurt.
"Sango, I assure you I would never use my abilities as a houshi for personal gains. Such a thing would be unthinkable."
Sango rolled her eyes and thus did not see him move to grasp her hand between his own.
"But Sango," he stated gruffly, "know this: If at any time your bed is too cold for you, say the word, and there will be no end to my efforts to warm you."
Her hand was swift as always, and he did not move from where he stood, rubbing his marked face cautiously. His smile spoke to her, it was worth it, as she turned and followed the others.
"Baka," muttered Shippou from his perch on Kagome's shoulder.
Sango's face was taut with anger, but only on the surface.
At least he didn't grab my ass this time. Though I'm sure he will when he gets a chance.
She sighed.
Maybe he only said that to annoy me, because I insulted him. Kagome told me the way he used to be before. He doesn't cheat or steal anymore. He doesn't seem to flirt with other women nearly as much these days.
And there was the incident with Hachi, his tanuki retainer that impersonated him and destroyed his reputation in all those villages. None of us believed his claims of innocence. We abandoned him. We were close to letting those villagers kill him for the crimes of his imposter. He seemed to take it in stride, to joke about it afterwards. But if it had been me, if everyone had turned against me like that, it would have broken me. I would have cried, I would have run from these people. I might even have killed myself to ease the pain of such abandonment.
How dare I be bothered by a few wayward gropes and innuendos after showing him such cruelty?
She shook her head. She would apologize later. She always planned to tell him later, to explain her feelings, to expose her heart to him, to let him take her or leave her. So many thoughts led to these intentions, and rarely if ever did she have the courage to see them to their end. So many times had moments between them come up, moments where she felt she could tell him everything, break into his heart, and make Mirkou hers. But she always, always hesitated, and then he did something perverted, and in her anger she forgot the kind things he had done.
So the cycle repeated.
I'll tell him tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I will find him out, take the chance, and perhaps then he will love me. Always tomorrow, never today.
Our journey is long. I have all the time in the world.
She nearly bumped into Inuyasha, who had stopped short before her.
"Oi, Miroku, you feel that?" the hanyou said.
Miroku nodded. "I've felt a very faint yoki for a little while now. I can't tell from where, but it's pretty far. Seems like a tora youkai."
"Bouzu no baka," Inuyasha muttered. "You can't smell it at all, can you?"
"Houshi," said Miroku.
"There's blood and youki all over this damn village. That tora ripped right through here four days ago and killed at least a half-score of humans."
Miroku's voice became as steel. "Then we will destroy it."
"I've fought tora youkai before," said Sango. "They tend to feed of small villages, usually once or twice a week. Our best chance of finding it would be to stay at the village and wait for it to attack. If we go out in search of it, there's too great a chance for it to pass us by or escape and take more lives."
"A wise course of action," said Miroku. "Perhaps we can get ourselves room and board for a night, in exchange for its extermination." The same thought was on everyone's mind, since they had done this so many times before, but it helped to have it stated aloud. It satiated Kagome, who knew their reward was nearly nothing compared to the effort and danger of killing youkai; and it satiated Inuyasha, who could pretend they were hired hunters fighting only for reward.
"Keh," Inuyasha muttered. "This better be quick. We're in a race with Naraku, so don't forget."
Miroku poked him lightly in the back with his shakujou. "And let's not forget those of us without demon blood need a lot more rest than you."
"Of course," Inuyasha replied.
Sango smiled wickedly. Thought of battle invigorated her.
I've been too concerned with Houshi-sama lately. A good battle will clear my senses, give me some exercise, and help me focus on what's important.
The first person they saw was a young woman tending a small garden before her hut. Miroku greeted her, asked for the home of the village chief, and kindly requested if she would bear his child.
Sango growled. As soon as he walked back to them she struck him atop the head with Hiraikotsu.
Author's note:
Well, I figure a week shy of two months is about as long as is fair to leave my readers waiting, so here's the next installment. This, indeed, was the chapter I wanted so badly to post that I rushed through a couple chapters. I think the past three, however, seem better for their benefit of revision.
About a week ago, I managed to put together an anime music video starring Sango and Miroku to the tune of Tom Petty's "You Wreck Me." I think it's very good for my first try – in fact, if you forgive my arrogance, I think it's one of the best Inuyasha videos I've seen. And, given lack of competition, I can absolutely assure you it is the best Sango and Miroku AMV you will see.
Unfortunately, my free hosting site can't handle the bandwidth, so it's going offline all the time, and to my best guess only a handful of people can download the thing per day. The only solution I can think of is to Email people who ask the URL. Sorry I can't do more, but I don't have the cash to pay for bandwidth. If you find it, I hope you like it.
- Scribe
Chapter posted 27 April 2003