Prompts used: Broken, Shatter, Truth

Characters: Miroku, Sango

Weakness

Like every woman born in their era of wars, Sango was aware of what her role should be. Yet, ever since she had been smart enough to understand the meaning of certain words, she also knew that she would never fit into those standards, nor would her life have any value if she merely became what others wanted her to be. Within the slayers' village, her role was very important and however atypical, she was proud of it; she trained hard to be up to the expectations of all those who had chosen her and deemed her worthy. The pride that swelled in her soul and flowed in her blood strengthened her and kept telling her to get better.

Yet, on the day that idyllic picture was shattered, Sango realised for the first time how weak she really was. A trivial trick had destroyed their community, and she, undeserving of any respect, the only survivor, had been fooled again when she had had the opportunity to avenge her comrades. From that moment on, it was only the anger within her that gave her strength, that moved her forward so that she could demonstrate that she had not failed completely, that she had another opportunity to prove herself worth all their expectations.

Mindful of her new goal, on meeting a man like Miroku — a monk who was apparently exploiting his religion for personal gain — Sango was annoyed; for her, he was an obstacle to her mission even though she recognised his strength. And after all, agreeing to join that weird group was also part of her plan — nothing else. However, she had not yet understood the meaning of those challenges that fate had thrown at her, nor could she know what that journey she had embarked on held in store for her; she had no idea.

Discovering herself in love with the very person she had considered a hindrance was probably the biggest shock of her life, more than her mother's death, her companions' and Naraku's deception. The feeling that had been born without her being able to do anything only meant failure and, again, she had disappointed those who still looked at her. Within her, now, resided an unresolvable conflict between love and duty that paralysed her. Was it fear that prevented her from moving? And if so, fear of what? Or, rather, was it shame for not keeping her promise? Perhaps the pride that had once made her feel so strong had been the first step towards defeat. She should not have been so proud of who she was and instead, she should have tried harder, even harder.

Meanwhile, Miroku stood by her, even when she knew she didn't deserve his support or if she treated him poorly.

When she looked inside herself and discovered how broken she was, he was the first to put the pieces back together.

If she broke down and a little voice whispered in her ear to give up, Miroku silenced it with his words of encouragement.

When doubts became more overwhelming than certainties, Miroku was the first to show her the truth with a clarity that left her speechless.

And only thanks to his constant presence was she finally able to realise that, after all, love and duty did not fight but complemented each other within herself, so much so that it made her purpose stronger and gave her an extra incentive to win and not give up.

Sango was not weak; she had lost many times but got back up, and allowing others to help and support her was not a sign of weakness either. She was sure that those she was fighting for were still proud of her.

Years later, she also knew that the answer Miroku gave her when she asked him why he had waited so long to declare his love was not entirely truthful, but she did not take offence; the reasons were many and complex to be truly summed up in a sentence. And perhaps, waiting had been the right move. Both of them had had so many personal demons to fight, and who knows what would have happened if they had dared to accept their feelings before they had truly defeated them.

Today, Sango knew the meaning of certain words better than she had once believed. She knew that even if she was no longer able to use Hiraikotsu or if she had to accept others' help more often, she was not weak. And as she visited her companions' graves, she could sense how proud each of them was of the woman she had become, but above all, Sango no longer doubted herself.