Miroku on His Curse and on Sango

Everyone was asleep except for Miroku. He lay awake like he so often did, staring at his hand. This was really the only time that he could contemplate personal things and he didn't particularly like to be alone to brood. The rhythmic breathing of his companions did much to comfort his heart.

'I don't like to be alone,' he thought almost with surprise, which was funny because he had spent a very good portion of his life traveling alone. He didn't even mind solitude back then. But that was before he met them all. Now things were different.

He couldn't imagine going back to being alone. He even chose to think on his problems while the others were around him. Why? Because he was afraid. Afraid to be alone…afraid to die alone…and as much as the truth of the matter tore him apart, he knew that he would die alone. It was inevitable. He couldn't risk taking anyone else with him to death. He would be isolated in his last moments…isolated and terrified, without the love and comfort of family or friends.

'Damn Naraku!' Miroku thought bitterly. He didn't hate many things, but he could say with certainty that all he felt for Naraku was hatred. The demon had destroyed his grandfather, his father, and was now destroying him…slowly…painfully. Not just physical pain, but emotional torture as well.

That was why he'd avoided making friends. He knew that getting close to anyone would just lead to eventual sorrow. But somehow friends had fallen into his life anyway and he was now facing the situation that he had hoped to avoid. Still…now that he had found friendship, he cherished every day that he had to enjoy it.

Miroku lowered his hand and glanced over the sleeping faces of his companions. These people cared about him. His eyes passed over one face after another until they finally rested on Sango's face. 'Sango.' Such a beautiful woman…strong, intelligent and compassionate. If only the situation were different. But as things were, he could not reveal his heart to her.

He had never actually asked Sango to bear him a child. At first, this was merely an oversight due to circumstances. Now……now he decided not to ever ask her. He was certain she'd just slap him anyway, but that wasn't the reason behind his decision. In truth, he didn't have the heart to suggest that she get involved in his fate any more than she already was, especially since he suspected that she did harbor some feelings for him. Having a child together would only make things more painful…for both of them.

It was ironic. Everyone thought that his quest for an heir was just an excuse to indulge his desires. He wasn't going to deny that he didn't mind the idea of the pleasure, but his motivations were true. Some day Naraku would fall and he wanted someone of his bloodline to see it.

It truly was a double-edged sword. He would be cursing an innocent child with his plight, but he would also leave his legacy. He only hoped that he would live long enough to teach the child and pass on his knowledge and wisdom. After all, his child would not only inherit his curse but also the burden of his fight.

It was cruel. He knew that it was a cruel thing to do to…to create a life only to sentence it to such torture. He was living it. He knew what it was like. But he had to do it. He couldn't let his bloodline perish with him. Naraku was not going to win! As long as Miroku's bloodline continued, then Naraku hadn't accomplished his goal for the monk's family yet. If he couldn't defeat the demon within his lifetime, then perhaps his descendents would.

This was, of course, all contingent on him actually producing an heir. He had been trying for a long time but women were always too damned prudish! He was really starting to feel his time dwindling. The Kaazana was growing…getting stronger. He wondered how much longer he had until it swallowed him into its abyss. He knew that it would be excruciating but he wondered what would become of him when it was over. Would it consume his soul as well?

Miroku shuddered ever so slightly and blinked slowly. He was still gazing at Sango. 'Will she weep for me?' he wondered. 'Does she love me?' He blinked again. 'If things were only different, Sango,' he addressed her in his mind. 'We could truly have a family together.' Miroku smiled softly to himself. What beautiful children they could make.

Miroku's vision blurred slightly as he began to imagine what their children could look like. A little boy of theirs could have his deep eyes and Sango's cute nose. A little girl…perhaps Sango's soulful eyes and his supple lips. He could imagine chasing them around, playing with them, helping put them to bed…all of the things a father would do. He felt that he would make a good father. Despite his shortcomings, he was good with children.

Miroku blinked as his eyes refocused. He couldn't afford to get too wrapped up in fantasies…especially ones that involved Sango. The sooner he accepted that there would be no happily ever after for him, the easier it would be for him to do what he had to do. Any heir of his would come from a woman who would be a complete stranger to him. The less emotional attachment, the better.

But what if they were able to defeat Naraku within his lifetime? He would be free…as would Sango. But what if by that time, he'd already had a child with someone else. Would Sango be willing to look past that? Would she take him under those circumstances? Or would any chance he might have had with her be ruined? Would she instead settle down with the handsome lord who proclaimed love for her and told her that he would wait for her no matter how long she might need?

There were too many what-ifs. He couldn't live by questioning every action and decision. He had to assume that the worst would happen and base his actions on that. He couldn't afford to do otherwise. He knew that he would have regrets regardless of whatever scenario eventually unfolded, so he had to choose the path that would result in the least compunction.

Miroku sighed almost inaudibly. He decided not to dwell on these things any longer. It was only serving to depress him. Instead, he continued to gaze at Sango and he started to remember some of the things that they had been through. He thought of rough times and of pleasant times…and of the many times he had taken a handful of her supple backside. He had lost count of how many times she had slapped him since they'd met.

A small smile crept across Miroku's lips as he thought of all of the mischief he'd gotten into. The game was fun, and despite Sango's protestations, he suspected that she found it amusing as well. He remembered the day that they were sharing one of Kagome's…umbrellas was what she called them. He had ruined a potentially serious conversation with his lechery and Sango had decorated his face with a nice red handprint. But then she laughed!

Her laugh was golden…the way that her eyes shone and all of the worries of her life temporarily lifted from her face. She didn't laugh often enough. Like the rest of them, she didn't have much to laugh about. Naraku had taken his toll on her as well.

Miroku's smile faded as he thought about what Naraku had done to Sango. Her family had been killed, her entire people had been destroyed, and her brother had been brain-washed and was now being controlled, his life sustained only by a shard of the Shikon no Tama. Miroku's eyes trembled as he looked at Sango's face, which seemed almost sad even in slumber. Though surrounded by friends, she must sometimes feel so alone…just like him.

As he gazed at her, he longed to hold her…to tell her that things would be alright…that everything would work out. But how could he make those assurances to her when he didn't believe them himself? They would just be empty words. He wasn't the kind to offer false hope…and Sango wasn't the kind to accept hollow comforting.

Miroku sighed again. Somehow he'd returned to negative thoughts. He had been trying to clear his mind of despair but his thoughts kept returning to bleak things. As he blinked, he suddenly realized that the eyes that he had been staring at for so long were no longer closed but open and returning his gaze.

"Sango," he whispered in surprise, but he didn't move.

"Miroku," she whispered back. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he replied. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

Sango shook her head to dismiss it. "It's ok. You look so grave. Please tell me what's wrong."

This time Miroku shook his head. "I was just……..thinking." He smiled softly at her. "That's all."

Sango returned his smile. Normally, she would question what he was thinking about with skepticism, but something in his eyes told her that he wasn't being crude. For a moment, she had seen such deep sorrow that it caused her breath to catch. Now he was smiling it away again…like he always did.

"If you ever need to talk about anything…you know I'll always listen," she offered sincerely.

Miroku's eyes trembled once but then he just nodded and smiled a bit wider. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey!" interrupted a gruff voice, fogged over with sleep. "Stop gabbin' and go back to sleep." Inuyasha's golden eyes glowed softly in the dark as he glared at the two offenders.

"Sorry, Inuyasha," whispered Miroku and Sango together. The hanyou then shifted slightly and closed his eyes again, the golden sheen disappearing once again in the dark.

Miroku smiled gently at Sango and then mouthed, 'Goodnight,' to her. She mouthed it back and then he turned over. Miroku waited until Sango's breathing slowed and then he slowly turned back over to regard her one last time before going to sleep himself.

'Maybe someday I can tell you what's on my heart, Sango,' he thought. 'But for now…just keep slapping me. This game is all that we can share for now.'