Someone Out There
Chapter Twenty Six: Bonding

It was Sunday morning, a bright sunny beautiful day. The blossoms have sprinkled the floor creating a lush carpet of petals for people to walk on. Sango twirled around in her sundress as she cleaned the counters of the café. She smiled and hummed a tune as she cleaned. She was in a cheerful mood and she couldn't put her finger on why. Maybe it was the weather? Or the quietness of the café since it was Sunday and no one came, leaving her with little work to do and much daydreaming to do? Or maybe it was because her shoulders feel a lot lighter because of the recent burden she didn't need to carry anymore.

She paused and flipped open her cell phone. The Pachelbel's Canon ringtone paused midway. "Hello, Sango speaking," she said pleasantly. "It's Miroku, hey how you doing? Want to go out?" asked Miroku, jumbling all his questions together. "Miroku, I'm working right now," said Sango slowly, making sure he heard everything.

"I know, but can't you call the day off? It's Sunday!" exclaimed Miroku. "People drink coffee on Sundays too," said Sango ignoring his 'yeah right', "And I need to make sure I can put food on the table every night."

"Fine, fine, you spoil sport. Can I take Tommy out though?" asked Miroku. Sango frowned, "Why?"

"Because, I want your son to get to know his father," he replied simply. Sango inhaled sharply, "You are NOT going to tell him that." Sango welcomed the idea of talking to Miroku again and being friends, but him suddenly coming into his life to take charge of her son? She couldn't handle that. How would Tommy feel?

"No I won't, I promised you remember? I never renege on my promises, not to you anyway," cut in Miroku, reassuring Sango. Sango let out a sigh of relief. "Alright then…where are you taking him?" asked Sango, calming down a bit.

"The mall and stuff," replied Miroku lamely. "And stuff…" she repeated. "Don't worry, our son is in good hands," he joked cheekily. Sango hissed, "Don't say that." "Say what?" asked Miroku. Sango can hear his cheeky-"innocent"-smile through the phone. "You know what I meant," she replied. "Alright, alright, don't nag! I'll stop," reassured Miroku.

Sango was about to hang up but Miroku cut in, "Before I go… Sango, does the prospect of me being a father really that scary?" Sango laughed and said good bye. She pressed 'end' on her phone and stuck back in her apron. She pondered over his question.

Miroku seemed to have mature a lot. He was no longer the hormone-driven youth that was unsure of where he was going. He was pass the cheap-thrills stage and managed to try the other side of life. Rather than stay being a wild child, he pursued a simple domestic life. As weird as it seems, it was a bigger risk to experiment living a simple life than to stay being a wild child.

He couldn't commit with his life back then, remembered Sango. She smiled remembering how he would've gone through at least three girls a month. Look at him now: not dating for several years.

He's got diligence, if he sets his mind to something. "He's still quite a catch," said Sango in a high voice, mimicking her cousin Sandy. She called Sandy a week after Miroku's late night ice-cream escapade. Sandy informed her of other things about Miroku throughout the years she was gone, things she was curious about but never asked. Like why Kagome dumped him. Sango's cheeks flushed when her cousin had told her.

"Okay it was like this. He was shagging her, and then, he said YOUR name instead of her's. She totally flipped. It wasn't the first time either. Well first time he made that mistake in bed, but like in other situations like their dates or something, he called out the wrong name. He said it was because he missed you so much, but well, you know me, I think pretty boy is up to something else. Of course I just kept my mouth shut."

Sango snorted at his last sentence, but her mind was focused on the other thing. She felt strangely happy, and kind of guilty for feeling happy, but happy nonetheless that she made a big enough of an impression on Miroku for him to make such a huge mistake like that. He's alright, thought Sango, yes he's quite alright.

… … … … …

Miroku complained goodheartedly as the car in front of him took the parking spot he was waiting for. "What the hell are you doing?" yelled Tommy, thumping at the window. Miroku laughed and told him to chill out, "We'll find another one. Mind you, don't let me catch you say the 'h word' again" Tommy smiled sheepishly, embarrassed that he was caught red-handed. After 15 more minutes of circling the parking lot, they finally found a spot.

As soon as the car stopped, Tommy leapt from his seat and flew out the door. Miroku quickly caught up to him before he was run over by some other car. He walked towards the elevator to the mall entrance until he realized that Tommy wasn't beside him. He turned around and saw Tommy holding out his hand. Miroku stared dumbfounded. "You have to hold my hand," said Tommy seriously, as if he guarded this rule with his life.

Miroku jogged over confused, "Why little man? You're big enough to walk on your own." Tommy's cheeks swelled with pride but quickly deflated, "Mommy says I have to hold onto your hand when crossing the street." Miroku stopped asking and grabbed the smaller hand into his own.

"Well, since you're with me today, you don't need to hold my hand when we're in the mall. Just make sure you don't run away," said Miroku. Tommy hopped up to him, trying to keep up with Miroku's long strides. "This place is huge!" exclaimed Tommy, his eyes wide opened. Miroku chuckled at Tommy's bemusement.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Tommy. "We're not buying clothes are we?" Tommy's nose wrinkled in distaste. He hated shopping for clothes with his mommy. They walk for hours and hours only to buy a few things. It was boring too, looking at racks and racks, shops and shops of pretty much the same stuff.

"We are going to the arcade," replied Miroku. Tommy erupted with a cheer. "WOHOOOO!" The mall was crowded on Sundays, everyone was window shopping, or eating at the food court. Crowds of teenybopper girls clutched their precious shopping bags filled with overpriced preppy clothes. Superficial conversations such as "omigod look at what I bought!" and "I totally want her shirt" was their main topic (not to mention the only topic) of their conversations. Miroku sighed, recognizing that stage in teen years as he ushered Tommy quickly past them, before the little boy can gawk at the older girls' boobs.

"How come they're wearing their swimming clothes to the mall?" asked Tommy curiously. Miroku stifled a laugh and told him it was nothing. The arcade was located at the west wing of the mall. It had a cool-looking entrance, giving off a Matrix impression. Windows were angled artistically at the door. Tommy's eyes opened wide, trying to take in everything as they were walking. "We'll have 30 dollars worth of tokens please," said Miroku. Not pausing to notice the girl's brilliant smile aimed at him, he picked up the cup of coins, scooped Tommy off the floor and headed towards the games.

After whacking every hedgehog in "Whack-a-Mole" and taught Tommy how to play DDR, they sat down at a table to rest for a while. After pausing for 2 minutes, they went back to the DDR machine. Tommy was quite impressive on that game. He couldn't match up all the arrows, but for someone his age and size, his moves were better than most teens who played DDR.

They went to another game, popped in some tokens and started driving. Talk about road rage, Miroku beat Tommy in the first two round but not wanting to let Tommy down, he let him play three more games to make a comeback. Subtly letting him win, he grinned at the younger boy and congratulated him. Tommy was beyond enthusiast and hyper at this point.

Tommy dragged Miroku over to the skeeball game and told him to help him a stuff animal. "I'm not very good at this game," warned Miroku. Tommy refused to listen and made him play. After barely winning by ten points, he managed to win something incredibly pint-size for Tommy. Tommy tried not to show his disappointment. "I'm tired, can I have ice cream?" Miroku laughed, not only at the boy's energy, but the déjà vu feeling he got from hearing that line. Can I have ice cream?

Tommy wiped the sweat from his tousled hair, as he smiled a tooth grin waiting for his ice cream. Miroku handed him a cone and watched the boy slave over the treat. Tommy tried to lick it slowly savoring the taste but soon the ice cream started melting and he was frantically licking each side to stop it form dripping away. The cone got soggy and started caving in. Tommy ate as quick as humanly possible and polished the ice cream in five minutes flat.

"You like ice cream?" asked Miroku. "Yeah, mom buys a lot at home and keeps tubs of it in the freezer. She said it brings memories, whatever that means. I just like it for the taste." spilled Tommy. "Hey, do you have an actual name?" asked Tommy. Miroku raised an eyebrow. "I mean, no offence mister, but 'Midori' is way too girly for a guys name. Dude, you're making us men here look bad." Miroku laughed and coughed but didn't comment on the part where Tommy said 'us men.'

"My last name is Midori, my real name is Miroku." he informed. The little boy nodded, showing he understood. "So Miroku," he tried out the name, "What are we going to do next?" Never stopping with the questions and always curious with what to do, Miroku noted. "Let's go over there," shouted Tommy, pointing to a group of college boys by a pool table. He grabbed Miroku's hand and headed towards the crowd of gangster-wannabes.

"That's the stuff animal mom wants!" shouted Tommy. He pointed to a blue dolphin, the size of Tommy, hanging on the rack behind the pool table. It was the biggest prize there. "Go win it!" urged Tommy. Miroku shrugged, "Sure if that makes you happy." The college boys peered up at Miroku, too cool to give a damn. "What?" a member of the pack said.

"You work at this booth?" asked Miroku. "Yeah, got a problem?" he replied coolly. Tommy whimpered, scared of the intimidating bigger guy in front of him. He hid behind Miroku, clutching the bottom of Miroku's hoodie. "I want to win that whale," he pointed to the stuff animal. The guys guffawed and pointed.

"Hey boss, white boy here wants to win The Whale," shouted the guy that first talked to Miroku. "Oh really?" said a low voice in the back. He slowly emerged from his friends. He was muscular. That was Tommy's first impression. Muscular, long white hair and taller than Miroku with one heck of an intimidating stare. Tommy tugged on Miroku's shirt.

Miroku broke off his cool stare and turned to face Tommy. "Hmm what's wrong little man?" Tommy motioned for him to bend down so he could whisper something. The gangster-wannabes laughed, muttering whipped! under their breaths. "I don't think this is a good idea," Tommy whispered. Miroku frowned, "Are you sure your mom likes this whale?" Tommy nodded, confused of what that had to do with this not being a very good idea. Miroku patted Tommy on the head and told him not to worry.

"If you want that whale, you'll have to beat me in a game of pool," said the white-haired leader. "We will shoot one frame of pool, whoever pockets the most balls win. If you win, you get that whale, if you don't…well you don't win." His comrades laughed at the not-very-funny joke. Oh well, this was an arcade, not a sit-down at some mafia hide out. Miroku took his place at the pool table. The tall leader shoved him aside, "Move over white trash, let me show you how it's done." Miroku held his tongue from retaliating. Catty words won't do anything. This is for Sango, he reminded himself over and over again.

The leader shot and pocketed 3 balls. That was not bad, really, not bad at all. Tommy bit his fingernails, watching in anticipation. Miroku felt his hands go a bit clammy. He felt nervous since everything was riding on one shot. His mind flashed back to when he use to play pool with Sango, how badly he'd break the frame, splitting the balls in all directions, pocketing one, or two if he was lucky. He's gotten better mind you, a lot better but at the moment he doubted his skill. The leader held his head up high, high-fiving his friends.

Miroku took his place on the table and took a deep breath as one of the guys set up the triangle again. He aimed, remembering the tactic Sango told him long ago. He shot. Closing his eyes, he prayed that he'd be able to pocket 4 balls. Sounds of balls hitting the sides of the table were heard. One, two, three…and one more went in.

Tommy cheered loudly jumping onto Miroku. He looked at Miroku with a hint of admiration in his eyes. Miroku caught the boy and swung him around celebrating. The leader cursed loudly, throwing the cue down and grabbing the whale. "Here," he spat, turning around to mend his broken pride.

Tommy hung onto the whale proudly. "We are victorious!"