Void
Three: Knowing You
Miroku disliked the feeling of confusion. He was the kind of person that liked to be in control of a situation, or at least have ample knowledge of whatever task he was tackling. Confusion meant that one was lost, with no understanding of their predicament, and therefore, was ill-prepared for anything. Which was exactly how he was feeling at this moment.
The impact of waking up one night to find Sango grasping his forearm and wrenching off the protective chain of beads from around it still had not worn off. The sight of her, tears streaming down her cheeks, her expression anxious, fearful, and strangely determined, holding the beads above her head, had implanted itself in his mind. It was quite an unpleasant way to be awoken.
Guilt of how he had reacted still burdened his shoulders. The first feeling had been, of course, confusion. Why was Sango awake and what was she doing that required her to fiddle with his cursed arm. Next, he had experience pure panic and trepidation. She was prying his fingers apart from his instinctive fist, which had awoken the following realizations in his mind. His Kazaana was unsealed, and if he released it, she would be instantly drawn in.
She had enough knowledge of the Kazaana that she had to know opening it would cause her death. He concentrated on her aura while he had her pinned down. It was her, only her, he didn't sense any evil energy or spirits. Sango had been completely herself that night, yet she hadn't at all.
If she had been possessed, she wouldn't have remembered her actions, or at least recall not having control. But she had apologized, and told him that he didn't understand.
What he understood was she was trying to get herself killed, and what she had done was foolish, careless, and dangerous. He was completely lost regarding anything else.
The one thing that stayed with him like his shadow was the fact that Sango knew something about his curse that he didn't, and that alarmed him.
*
The mood surrounding the group was tense once again, ever since Miroku and Sango had been discovered the night before. Leaving Miroku, Sango and Kirara to their own devices, the rest of the group had gone to the nearby village to investigate any new leads or rumours.
Sango sat silently brooding in the grass on the edge of a plateau that slowly sloped down and rose again like a valley. Kirara was with her, chasing butterflies nearby. Sometimes her gaze would stray to Miroku, who was in deep contemplation himself, seated near the brook that ran through the dip between the two hills.
After he had reprimanded her last night, his eyes had been swimming with many conflicting emotions. He was angry at her, yes, but he was also confused, panicked, and... scared.
He had her held down tightly, pressuring her to answer questions and tell him things that she couldn't. What was she supposed to say? She could just see picture the conversation in her mind.
'Well Houshi-sama, I've been having recurring dreams about being sucked into your Kazaana, and I guess I took it a little too far. Oh, did I fail to mention that if I did get sucked in, the curse would be broken? That's what you get for being a stupid pervert anyway.'
Truthfully, she didn't know what to think. Naraku could of course be telling the truth. But that didn't rule out the fact the he could be lying. After all, his sick twisted mind did enjoy seeing two people betray and kill each other.
How could he even be sure it was her that would close Kazaana? Didn't the girl have to be one that he loved unconditionally? Sango laughed bitterly at that thought. In that case, there was plenty a chance that she wasn't the target, and Naraku, that bastard who didn't understand human feelings, just assumed she would do. No, love was more complicated than that.
It was possible that it wouldn't work if the feelings were only one sided.
Still, what mental force was so strong that it had the ability to blur her perception between dream and reality? Was it a sign of how much this knowledge burdened her?
Houshi-sama was never one to openly declare his innermost feelings or thoughts, especially regarding details related to his curse.
Collected and serene in relaxation, level-headed and strategic during battle, perverted and sly in-between, when he had looked at her in fear and anger, he had truly scared her. She had been the one who invoked those rarely witnessed feelings in him.
*
She knew he could hear her approaching even when she was still a good distance away. Somehow, he was able to identify the soft footsteps skidding slightly on the grass and quiet breaths as hers. When he visibly stiffened as she neared him, a thick, uneasy silence built in the space between them as Sango was hesitant to step any closer.
"Is there something you need, Sango?" he asked, not turning around. The heat began to build in Sango's back as she heard his voice, not smooth and polite, or joking. It was simply distant, and indifferent.
"Houshi-sama," she began, willing her voice to stop cracking. "I want you to know, you have my deepest apologies for...for-"
"No need to keep apologizing," he cut in sharply. "I accept it without question."
Sango winced inwardly at this tone he kept using on her. As if she was a merchant offering him cheap trinkets, an annoyance, a stranger.
"Is that all?" his shrewd voice cut through the silence that had begun to form. Sango opened her mouth to retort when they heard a young kitsune calling them over in an obscenely loud voice.
And they were walking again. Kagome looked reasonably downcast, Shippou mimicking her, and they both kept looking over at Sango and Miroku, who were walking behind another respectively. Sango had been petting Kirara, however she wasn't really concentrating on it and was now repeatedly tapping her on the head with her palm, irritating the small demon. Miroku held his staff loosely between his fingers, and the end of it dragged along the ground behind him.
Both of them looked so distressed that if they didn't focus on their walking they would soon fall into a ditch.
Inuyasha had just made an exaggerated noise of impatience when he heard the unmistakable sound of a shakujo hitting the dirt. He turned around, aggravated, but that changed into uneasiness when he saw Miroku hunched over, face hidden from view, one hand gripping his arm.
Sango hung back, her natural instincts telling her to run to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, but in light of recent events, she prevented herself from doing so.
"Miroku-sama!" Kagome exclaimed, doubling back closer to him. "Are you okay?"
His expression still pained, he gripped his forearm and opened his hand, staring into his palm. "I-I don't know Kagome-sama. It's been a little sore, but not too bad. Just now it..." His voice dissipated to silence when he met Sango's anxious gaze.
His arm dropped deftly to his side. "It's nothing."
Kagome put her hands on her hips. "It's not nothing, Miroku-sama. If your arm is hurting, and it is because you said so just one minute ago, you should go get help for it."
"It's nothing, just a brief ache. Probably from fighting that youkai a few nights ago," he said, waving a dismissive hand in front of him.
"That youkai, as you say, was so weak that you could've stepped on it!" Kagome countered, now jabbing a finger into his chest. "Which Inuyasha did, for that matter. We're not moving from this spot until you go to see Mushin-sama about this soreness."
Inuyasha's jaw hung visibly. "Kagome!" he whined. "That village, we got a lead, but we have to get to the next town before nightfall to follow it!"
"Well," Kagome declared, crossing her arms. "We'll just have to see what Miroku-sama says."
"Fine, " Miroku said shortly. "We'll go. Quickly, not more than one day."
"A day?" Inuyasha asked in disbelief. "Can't you just suck it up for a little longer?"
"No, he can't!" Kagome said, rounding on Inuyasha. Suddenly, she paused, regarding Inuyasha in a new light. She whirled around. "Maybe we can," she thought out loud.
"Inuyasha, we'll keep on going," she said to him politely.
"That's all in order then, " Miroku concluded, rubbing his arm.
"Miroku-sama, you'll still go to see Mushin-sama," she informed him. "We'll meet you there in a few days, after we've finished in the next town."
Mushin-sama's temple was quite a long walk away from where they were currently. About to voice these opinions, Kagome interrupted.
"Sango-chan and Kirara will take you."
*
The ride there had been relatively silent, save for Miroku giving Kirara a few key directions. Sango hoped that he couldn't see how uneasy she was, though she was radiating nervousness in all directions. Maybe his mood would improve slightly if she didn't push him.
Kirara landed smoothly and stooped to let her human passengers off of her back. Sango whispered a quiet thank you and patted her on the head before turning to follow Miroku up the front steps of Mushin's temple.
"Mushin-sama!" Miroku called out. "Where are you?" He realized it would be no use calling for him. Chances are, he would be drunk and out for the day. Just as anticipated, the old monk was laying on his side in the shade on the front porch, empty sake jug laying next to him.
Sango kneeled down tentatively beside the old man and shook his shoulders. "Mushin-sama?" she asked. His eyes cracked open and he gave her half lidded smile. "Hello," he croaked. "Umm, hello," echoed Sango. "Do you...remember me?"
"Ah, thank Buddha. He has presented me with a beautiful temple girl," Mushin drawled, his eyes unfocused. "Tell me, what may the name of this precious gift be?"
"My name is Sango," she said flatly. "Ah," Mushin murmured, rolling onto his back in contentment. "A beautiful name. Are you sure you aren't a celestial maiden?"
"No," Sango answered dryly.
Miroku stepped forward and prodded Mushin with his foot. "Get up, you old monk. It's barely midday and you're already drunk."
Mushin opened his eyes wider and focused on Miroku. "Is that you Miroku? So we meet again!"
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What brings you here again? Where are your other companions?"
"At another village, they should be arriving in a few days time. It's just me and Sango this time," he answered.
Mushin turned back to Sango and did a double-take. "Oh. I remember you know!" he laughed heartily. "How could I forget such a pretty face!"
Sango flushed in embarrassment. "Mushin-sama, Houshi-sama is having trouble with his Kazaana again," she quickly informed him. At these words, his attention turned back to Miroku.
With some difficulty, the old man got to his feet. "Let me see," he instructed. Miroku held out his hand for inspection, while Sango looked on apprehensively. For a moment, she could've sworn she saw the old monk's expression turn grave, but when he looked back up to Miroku, his countenance was collected.
"Your arm hurt as well?" Miroku nodded. "Well, what do you think?"
"Time has passed, as it always has," Mushin explained. "And the hole has extended. It's growing."
Dread flitted across Miroku's features before his face settled back into his composed visage. "Is there nothing you can do just for the soreness?" he queried.
"I can give you some medicine," Mushin answered. "It will help with the pain, I believe. But it will put you out for quite awhile. During that time I'll take a closer look at the changes."
Miroku regarded Sango for the first time that day. "I'll go take the medication now. If you want, you can wander through the temple." She nodded quietly, looking down at his feet. He made to follow Mushin into the building, but unknown to her, his gaze lingered a little longer on her profile than necessary.
*
Sango stepped lightly on the flat boulders that surrounded the waterfall behind Mushin's temple. 'It's so beautiful, and peaceful here," she thought, sitting down on a patch of grass shaded by a large tree. 'I would have liked to grow up in a place like this.' She tugged at the bottom of her yukata and dangled her feet loosely through the rippling water.
Memories of the taijiya village bubbled to the surface of her mind, and she felt her heart ache. At least she had had her family growing up, if even for a short time. She was now thankful for the time she got to have with them, and even though they were gone, she did not regret knowing them. "I wonder if Houshi-sama ever got lonely," Sango thought out loud. She lay back on the grass, trailing a lone finger through the water, causing a few fish to scatter. "After all, it was only him and Mushin-sama here."
"He did get lonely," said a deep voice with a chuckle. Startled, Sango sat up from her lounging position and looked up as Mushin settled himself beside her.
"Miroku was a very curious boy. He always wanted knowledge, experience, those kinds of things. Of course, he couldn't fulfil these aspirations if stayed here and studied at the monastery," recalled Mushin. He turned his chin upwards, remembering life with a young Miroku.
"He always questioned the ways of the Buddha. He studied it very intensely, because he wanted to fully comprehend what he was devoting his life to, and what his father and grandfather before him had believed. Very obedient boy, even though I myself had to chase him around this very pond when he refused to go under the waterfall to meditate because it was too cold."
Sango giggled lightly at the thought.
"He looked up to his father very much, following him around the grounds, asking questions about himself, his mother, life, every topic you could think of. I still remember the day young Miroku asked his father about why men desired women."
Sango turned and rested on her stomach, propping her cheek on her elbows, and leaned in attentively to Mushin's story.
"He said that each woman is a different story. In that story, they have many chapters and writings about their lives, their secrets, dreams, and little things about their daily lives. And every day, they fill the pages of their story with new things they have learned, new experiences they have had, and seemingly insignificant events they have gone through. As you meet women, they may choose to allow you to read their story, or they may shut their book tight. They may allow you to write a chapter in their story, or they may write it themselves."
The story was a bit odd, but Sango was sure that a man like Miroku's father would have some sort of meaning to this story, and she hoped it wasn't centered on lechery.
"To find the right woman, she must only share her story with you once she trusts you enough. She must want to read every page of your story in return. You must read everything, the mundane bits, the meaningful parts, and depressing pages, and understand. And when you both know each other fully, things like how the raindrops on the morning grass make her think of the time she first saw a rainbow, she must agree to close that book of hers forever, and begin to write a new one with you."
Sango's eyes closed as she thought about how much she would have liked to meet Miroku's father. She supposed he had composed that little story after he had met Miroku's mother. Mushin also had his eyes shut in reminiscence.
"Of course, Miroku was devastated when he died. But he tried not to grieve for too long. He loved his father, and I remember how he sat by his grave and prayed every morning after he awoke and every night before he slept. He promised his father that he would get rid of the curse, and that he would write a story to make him proud. He said that because his father had taught him how precious women were, he would look for one that suited him, and love her with all he could, but he wouldn't ask her to begin a new story with him, until he had closed his own, and that was only after the curse was lifted."
At these words, Mushin's voice began to grow hoarse. He stared off into the distance, the silence filled with the sounds of falling water and the songs of restless birds. Sango lifted herself off of her front and sat back on her heels. "Mushin-sama," she said quietly. "What did you make of Houshi-sama's Kazaana?"
Mushin turned to look at her. "Sango, I want you to do something for me first." She looked confused, but she nodded and listened for instructions.
"I want you to look away from me, close your eyes if you want, and think of Miroku."
Sango looked at him blankly. "Think of Houshi-sama?" she asked.
"I'm not going to tell you what about him to think of. Just think of him."
"Okay," said Sango hesitantly, and shifted into a comfortable position, putting her feet into the water again. She thought of Miroku, how when he had first spoken to her, he had made her sad feelings disappear, if just for a moment. When he would go off with other girls and she got angry and frustrated, he would always have a way with words that would make her forgive him in an instant. How he would do such nice things for her, insignificant things, like sit with her when she was feeling sad, or make silly jokes to make her laugh. It seemed like, he did things for her all the time, and never for himself. But, even though it seemed that way, she was never too sure of his true feelings. Finally, her thoughts found themselves thinking back to last night, when she had broken his trust in her.
She shook her head quickly, and held a hand up to her temple shakily. She looked questioningly at Mushin.
"I don't know if I should tell you what I know, Sango," said Mushin gravely.
"And why is that?" argued Sango.
"Your feelings for him are too great," he said simply.
"What do you mean?" she asked weakly.
"Though I seem like a drunken fool most of the time, I am still a monk. And I have undergone the studies necessary to become one. I could feel it when you thought of him. I could see your aura."
Sango's eyes looked anywhere but at Miroku's foster father. "Sango," he said gently. "Do you love him?"
Sango froze instantly. She chewed on her lower lip vigorously. "Yes," she said in barely a whisper. "Didn't quite catch that, Sango," said Mushin playfully.
"I-I do," Sango confirmed for him, her hands shaking.
"It's quite ironic that you tell me this here," Mushin stated.
"Why is that?" Sango inquired, still warm from her recent confession.
"Well, it is here that Miroku himself once admitted how scared he was of love. Real love, as he called it."
Sango displayed to him a confused expression.
"After asking so many questions about it, when he had actually left here to travel alone, he came back a few times, and there were so many women he met in the villages, he didn't know how to be sure that he loved a woman, even after remembering his father's story."
"So what did you tell him?" asked Sango curiously.
"Of course, I told him to have fun, and learn while he travelled. But I also told him he would know when she came along, because she would different from all the others. He was still defiant about conquering the curse first, that was his primary goal. He was fearful that he would meet the girl whilst still on this quest. I told him that if he did, to keep her close, so that he didn't lose her. But he argued with me, because he didn't want to endanger the life of one he loved."
Mushin shifted positions on the ground slightly, and flicked a fly off of his shoulder. "But he said he was conflicted, because what would he do if he loved the girl so much he didn't want to let her go?"
Sango was feeling quite guilty of her treatment of Miroku. He had lived with such a burden on his shoulders, a burden that she didn't understand as well as he did, but he brushed aside any inconsiderate comments on her part. But he had become angry with her because she had endangered herself. Could this really be it? Did he want to keep her close, but became upset with her because he could've killed her? Did he want to leave for their safety, but stayed to be with her?
"Are you finding fault in yourself now, Sango?" Mushin asked lightly. "Don't. There is not enough time to waste in feelings of self-loathing."
Sango's shoulders stiffened. "Not enough time? Why?" she voiced shakily.
"What I mean is," Mushin said with a sigh. "There isn't enough time."
Sango grabbed the front of his robes with trembling fingers. "You're joking right? Like you always do?" she asked desperately.
"I didn't say it to him today when he arrived," Mushin reasoned. " Because I knew his time was running short. His grandfather had had the most time, already having lived significantly before being cursed. Miroku's father had lived to see his son. But I'm afraid that Miroku...doesn't have that chance."
Sango still clung to Mushin's robes tightly. "How much time?" she whispered.
"Any day. Maybe even tomorrow," he answered softly.
Mushin patted her on the small of her back comfortingly as her shoulders quaked with sobs yet again. Tears for him, once again.
"H-he would be the one to keep me happy when I was upset, take care of me when I was injured. Dammit, he would even give me his staff, and his kesa, when it wasn't necessary!" Sango berated herself angrily. "Mushin-sama, why, why does he do that!"
"He gives you his kesa?" the monk asked, slightly surprised. Sango nodded bitterly.
Mushin hugged her shoulders tighter as he spoke. "The kesa is a symbol of the universe, and it is meant to remind a monk about his connection with the universe when he wears it."
Sango wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her yukata. "So why is he so stupid to give it to me if it's a reminder of his monk origins?"
The sun had begun to set, casting a orange glow across the pair.
Mushin held her away from him, and looked at her flushed, tearstained face.
"Maybe because it reminds him that you're his universe."
*
The sky was a mixed palate of purple, and blue as Sango stood out on the porch overlooking the front of the temple. She leaned her arms on the railing, feeling overwhelming sadness for the doomed future of herself and Miroku.
As she sat down on the steps in front of the temple, she stared out at the gaping crater in the earth that was Miroku's father's burial site. She walked out to it, and sat down on the edge, letting her legs dangle.
It wasn't long before she heard the distinct sliding of a temple door and heard footsteps behind her.
"May I sit here?" Miroku asked her politely.
"No one is stopping you," Sango replied, not looking at him.
He settled himself next to her, his eyes transfixing themselves on the small stone monument in the center of the crater.
"This is going to be me one day," Miroku stated. Perhaps it had meant to be a joke, but the way his voice was tinged with bitterness, it was anything but.
"Don't say things like that, Houshi-sama," Sango returned morosely.
The familiar breach of silence built in the air once again.
"I feel indebted to apologize to you for my earlier behaviour, Sango," Miroku began respectfully.
"You had every right and reason to be upset with me, Houshi-sama," Sango responded. Any resentful feelings towards Miroku had now disappeared after her heart-to-heart with Mushin.
"I was upset, Sango, but I didn't handle it the way I should have," Miroku explained. "I did myself a great wrongdoing by taking out my frustrations on you."
Sango leaned into him, closing her eyes and resting her head on the front of his shoulder.
Surprised at this bold move, he instinctively brought his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
The moon rose high in the sky and painted the temple grounds with an pale glow.
"Houshi-sama," Sango murmured. "Let's not worry about past wrong doings. I just want to be with you, right here, right now. I want to remember this."
He looked down at her, cradled in his arms, the glow of the moon making deep shadows across her delicate face. Remnants of tears still sparkled in the corners of her eyes.
"I do too," he answered, breath warm on her cheek.
___________________________________*
Not a lot of Miroku in this chapter, although there was a lot of talk about him, ne? Well, this chapter officially took most of the last week to write, and it required a lot of thinking on my part. I know you are probably irked that there was no real M/S action going on, but I hope the emotional touch I tried to put into it was worth it. Please tell me how you feel about this one.
There are roughly two more parts left to this story, the last chapter and the epilogue. I had lots of motivation to write this, so I think I should properly thank the reviewers. LiL psYchO, sailorpsychosis, Lyra Pelgina, isasimstories, SM together, Sang0-chan, animefreak808, Sylver-Ajah, Haeli J, BellaMuerte, tessie-fanfic, Stripe, Angela, asdf, LishaVilla and Aamalie! Thank you for all the support!
Not that it really matters, but it was my birthday on the 2nd. =D
Void: Knowing You revised and uploaded April 4th 2004