Disclaimer: Hmmm, now, I WONDER if I own Inuyasha... nope! Sorry! Sue somebody else! _

PPL! HEY! This is officially my 3rd fic. I have written:

Young & Hopeless (k if ppl review, maybe I'll continue...)

Melting Away (I HAVE 49 REVIEWS! YES!!!!!)

Read 'em and weep, ppl! Esp. Melting Away. Sesshy and Rin fic... sad. Very sad. Until the last chappie, that is. Ah vell. Vat can u do?

Yeah I'm weird. But hey, we're all writing about Inuyasha... that says something.

Just so you know, the Italic words are either songs or thoughts. Yeah... if they're in **, then it's a flashback.

This fic is a Mirsan (Miroku/Sango) fic. Maybe I'll put in Kagnu (Kagome/Inuyasha) and PERHAPS Ressh (Rin/Sesshomaru). I dunno. Depends on if ppl like this story. Well, I shall not keepeth ueth frometh storyeth. Latereth!

FluffyLemonn

../*\.. Slave To One's Fears ../*\..

*Chapter One*

Coming from me, you'd have never thought

That I could rebel...

Well I have.

And I do.

And I will.

And I'm not giving up until you're dead on the ground.

~That small thing is copyright the maker of this story- FluffyLemonn.~

Sango stared up at the evening stars. The dark, smoky-midnight colored clouds shadowed the moon, giving the ground a dark, shadowy look. Sango shivered. She hated night: all bad things happened at night. Like being left alone. And not being left alone...

*Fist Night As A Slave*

*Please, no... sir, please... don't... sir please!*

*Stop struggling... damn you, slave...*

*No! Please, sir, please...*

Sango shivered more violently. Depression washed over her at the thought of the horrific memories. Wrapping her arms firmly around herself, Sango sniffled. She hated crying. It made her feel so... weak. Something she couldn't afford. Not with her past, and not with her present, and not with her future. She had to be strong. Completely ignoring her desolate thoughts, a lone tear slid silently down her raw cheek. She remained unflinching as the cheek began to burn as the salt of her tear ran into her scraped flesh. She roughly wiped the tear away, regretting her hasty action a moment later. Her cheeks, and the rest of her body for that matter, hurt like hell. All seven hells, if you wanted to get technical. The beating and misconduct she had received earlier that night was beginning to catch up with her. She ached, not from some of the more... personal... wrongdoings of before, she and her body were used to that, but she hadn't been prepared for the harsh beating that had followed. Usually her master let her be after he was satisfied. Not so this time. He had cast her outside, kicking and pushing her along the ground until she had been scratched raw. He left her there, threatening her with the usual threat of death and punishment if she came near the house. Sango wondered how long it would be before he yelled at her for being outside. He had been intensely drunk.

She curled up on the ground, finding the most comfortable place she could: on the grass under the tree. For a moment, curled like a dog, Sango fantasized that she was free, a young virgin like she would be if it were not for her family's life debt. She was carefree- school was the only thing bothering her. School. Something she'd always dreamed about. She wanted to learn, but, of COURSE, slaves were stupid and couldn't and shouldn't learn things. Maybe she was stupid? Not like she'd ever find out. She went back to imaging herself, wrapped in a... a... oh, what were they called? Ah yes. A boyfriend's arms. She sighed. A good boyfriend who respected her, her thoughts and feelings, her body. She sighed again in utter bliss, for a moment believing that it was happening.

It started to rain.

Perfect. Just perfect. Her wounds started to sting. Sango's thin clothes usually would have covered most of her, but she was only wearing her shift. She thought longingly of the slave's quarters- but she dared not risk it. She didn't want to die, at least, not at this particular moment.

It started to hail.

Well, maybe she did.

Sango curled up tighter and tried to ignore the pain coursing through her body. It wasn't bad... kind of... no, not really...

It's not bad Sango... relax! Jeez, you're such a baby! Sango gave herself a sarcastic grin. While she was at it, she may as well pretend that her pain was fading. Yeah, that's it. Fading. Whatever. She dozed off in the rain, catching up on the sleep she desperately needed. The other slaves wouldn't cut her slack- no matter what had happened the night before. They never had, and she severely doubted they ever would. Ah well, nothing to complain about...

Sango woke up. The rain had stopped, and the sun was shining through the leaves. Sango gave a small grin at the sun, thanking it for its early morning rays. They felt heavenly. For a moment, Sango closed her eyes, soaking what she could up and storing away for thought later, during the darker hours. She never had time to look at a sunrise, although she was awake for every single one. She gazed longingly at the golden orange, yellow, and pink rays, wishing she could become a bird and fly away.

Somebody kicked her in the back. Sango didn't have to guess who it was. It was her master. He began cursing at her, yelling at her for her less-then-satisfactory work. For a second, she was confused. She hadn't done any work yet... oh. THAT work. Well, exCUSE her! She got up and spoke.

"So sorry, Lord Naraku-sama. It won't happen again, your servant promises." Naraku sneered. Nodding his approval, he knocked Sango over the head. Sango winced and ran towards the house to begin her chores. Sneaking one last look at the sun, she ran into the kitchen and grabbed her materials for the day. Dressing in working pants, rolled, and a loose blouse, she got to work scrubbing the floor. Every muscle on her ached- her back, her neck, her arms, her stomach- everything. Go figure. Scrubbing hard, she took a full hour to get it all. Snagging a slice of bread, she wolfed it down. Swallowing, she found a few new places in her neck that hurt. Wincing, she asked a maid where she was to work. Disgusted, she learned that she had been placed in both her least favorite place and the HARDEST place for the whole day: the stables. It wasn't that Sango didn't like horses, it was more like the horses in there hated Sango. But then, they possessed the finest demon racing blood- no wonder they hated her. She had a knack with demons. A really, really, nastily unfair one. She sighed and entered the massive barn, one of the seven on the property. For Kami's sake, they were almost as big as the castle- every one of them. Naraku loved his horses, and they loved him. Sango thought they all had something in common, except the horses didn't insist on... that... every few days. For that, Sango was thankful. Beginning to clear an empty stall, Sango focused on the rhythm of it: shovel, plop... etc... wheel, unloaded, wheel, stop... shovel... plop...

She finished that stall, then moved onto another one, then another. Working for a couple of hours, she finished all of the empty stalls. Now, to sweep. Grabbing a broom from the elaborate tack room, she spent a full 45 minutes sweeping the immensely long and wide isle. The isle was made big enough to drive two carriages side-by-side, after all. Why, she would never figure out, but oh well. At least whenever a groom led a horse by, she could be out of it's kicking range no matter where it was in the isle. Kami, she hated these beasts.

Not saying that they weren't beautiful- they were. Colors abided amongst them- chestnut, a shining brown, white, dapple-gray, fleabitten gray, a red color, bay, light pecan, and black. There were a few oddities, which Naraku kept carefully off of the track and out of the breeding list- unattractive colors were unacceptable. They were put to good use, however- many were sold; some were just saddle horses. Naraku was famous for his fine steeds, they fetched a grand price whether appropriately colored or not. They all had either black or reds eyes- the red being more rare and Naraku's personal favorite. They were all nasty tempered, too. Hard to manage, hard to get along with, and hard for just about anybody to ride. Well, except Naraku. He could ride every single damn one of them. Every one.

Sango sighed. She was done with the isle. Time to bring in the pastured horses scheduled for a workout that morning. Looking at the list, with its pictures for slaves (A/N: remember, Sango can't read or write), she grimaced. Her least favorite was there- Vicious Victory. His name said it all. He was the most famous racer there was there- a great black stallion with red eyes and an indescribable temper. He was almost impossible to ride- he had thrown Naraku four times. A record- the only horse to ever throw him. Still, when he got to the track, he changed. He stopped wanting to kill his rider and started wanting to kill the other racers. He had almost been put down when he mercilessly slaughtered an innocent sweet lead pony on the track in front of a crowd of 3,000 rich and powerful demon spectators. He had been retired to stud ever since. Nobody had managed to ride him- but it showed here that some fool was willing to try. Shrugging, she grabbed a lead, a whip, and a treat and went out to get the demon horse.

Sango reached the pasture and stood in awe. There he was- VV, in all his glory, bucking like all seven hells had just finished their freeze-over and he had nowhere else to go. A rider was atop him, sitting quietly in the saddle. Wait. No saddle... NO SADDLE! Sango gasped. Was this bastard mad? She waited in horror, watching for the violent jerk that would send him forward and off the demon. It didn't come. She opened the fence gate and dashed inside. VV was trembling, breathing hard. Submissively, red eyes dull, he put his head down. Sango approached warily, grabbed the halter, snapped the chain over the demon's nose, and turned the man. He slid gracefully off, patted the sweating horse, and bowed to Sango. Sango was amazed. Nobody had ever bowed to her before- not even a lower slave. She looked the man up and down. He had to be important- only the very rich and powerful could afford to be taught to ride like that. His clothes were expensive- looking: parts of them were purple, a royally-modest color. She eyed his right hand- he had a black hand-sheath on it, another sign of a powerful family. The ring on his finger and the earring loops in his ears were gold. A rosary wrapped and twined around his right hand. Ah, a monk. Sango quickly dropped to her knees and touched her forehead to the ground, a sign of reverence and complete humility. She stayed like that, awaiting his orders. It had been obvious that this man was important to Naraku, or else he wouldn't be allowed to touch his prize horse. Surprisingly, the man took Sango's shoulders and lifted her up. He smiled in the most touching and sincere way Sango had ever experienced. Sango relaxed in his grip: she barely noticed his hands did not move from her shoulders. He spoke: his voice was mellow, fun-loving, and completely soothing.

"Hello. Who are you?" Sango bent her head and touched her right hand's two forefingers to her forehead, showing the proper reverence to an important figure. Speaking softly, she kept her voice monotone as she had been taught.

"This servant directs herself as the servant and property of Lord Naraku-sama." The man's smile faded.

"Come now. For one thing, you CAN say 'I'. For another thing, I'm pretty sure that's not your name." Sango was shocked. He wanted her NAME? Naraku insisted they not mention their names at any time in any place. She shifted at this new sensation.

"This servant... must follow her training. She is known as 'wench' often, sir." The young man laughed. Realizing she wasn't kidding, he let go of her and stared.

"Wait a second- your name is Wench? Ok, that's really sad. I'm going to call you... Chani. Alright?" (A/N: Chan is the child's version of "Mr./Mrs./Miss. Thus, he is calling her Missi- or Missy in English terms. While I'm talking, sama means master/lord.) Sango stared at him. Had he just NICKNAMED her? Nonetheless, she must be subservient to his wishes.

"Yes, sir. ...Chani... will accept this as long as Lord Naraku-sama does not mind." The man nodded and smiled.

"I suppose you require my name, as a common courtesy. My name is Miroku. How are you, Chani?" Sango let a small smile escape. She quickly smashed it. Tilting her head once again, she touched her forehead.

"Chani is well, and she thanks Lord Miroku-san. She apologizes for the use of san (A/N: san= adults version of chan), but she does not know the origin of Lord Miroku-san's family, and she once again begs his lord's grace." She finished, still down casting her line of vision in apology. Miroku shook his head.

"Chani, you are such a head case. Will you take me to Naraku?" Sango nodded her head and began to lead Miroku and the forgotten horse to the main barn.

^There you have it, folks. I hope you enjoyed. It took me a bit. You like? Yes? No?

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^the opposite way of that last arrow! I wonder what happens if you push it.... KUDOS!