But enough of my writing. After a long (well, for me it's long) absence, this is finally up. And, really, I couldn't have done it if it wasn't for you readers out there. As stated in my last chapter, every review makes a difference; truth be told, they make me giddy. And hyper. Yes, hyper. They really get me motivated to write, so, in saying that, I'd like to thank everyone who has, at the very least, read my fic for all that you've done. Special thanks to Demon Exterminator Barbie and Veglma for cracking me up with the "Miroku in just a towel" tidbit (it sure as heck distracted me) and for everyone else who has reviewed thus far. (And psquare, feel free to write the sequel to Unrequited; I can't wait to see what you do with it!)
Okay, I know that you're all waiting for me to shut up. So I will do that. Why? Because you are my readers. And I lurve my readers! ((huggles)) Onto chapter four!
Day Four
The moment she was allowed to leave the throne room the next day, Sango dashed out to the courtyards yet again. Sure, the girl claimed that she didn't like Miroku, but, for some reason, she wanted to talk to him again. And what better place to look for him than in the courtyards? Sango reasoned, scurrying through the vegetation she frequented at so often.
Two minutes and a trampled flower bed later, the princess arrived at the tree where she'd come across him at the day before… only to find it unoccupied. Sango wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lip, trying to hold back the sigh of disappointment rising in her throat. Why she was suddenly so upset was a mystery to her, but the point was that Miroku was nowhere in sight, and…
"I thought I'd find you here, princess."
Sango didn't even have to turn around to know who had spoken.
"Kishi-sama," she said quietly, dropping her arms to waist height. It didn't take long, however, before her hands balled themselves into fists. "You should know by now, kishi-sama, I don't like being called 'princess'. My name is…"
"Sango, Sango, I know, I know," Miroku surrendered, holding up his hands as though they were twin white flags. "You don't need to remind me."
The girl rolled her eyes and strutted down the dirt path they were standing on, turning up her nose and sending her chocolate brown hair cascading down her back. "Whatever. Shall we walk?"
Miroku bowed in the direction of the wall of hair that separated him from Sango, especial smile ever-present on his lips. "As stated, your wish is my command, pri… er, Sango." The girl sighed. Now he was just fooling around. The last time he'd done that, she'd slapped him. In saying that, men who toyed with the princess—literally or otherwise—typically didn't walk away from her without a glaring red reminder of her anger imprinted on his face. However, today, the guard kept his hands to himself, thus avoiding a rather painful encounter with Sango's palm.
The two walked a short distance in a comfortable silence. For some reason, just being near the guard made Sango less tense, which, in turn, made her more confused. He is, after all, a pervert, and I can't trust him, she mused, and that thought alone was enough to make her stiffen up again. Nevertheless, she couldn't forget the veracity that glimmered in his eyes whenever he was speaking of a serious matter, and it was those eyes that both puzzled her and drew her to him so.
"Uh… kishi-sama?" Sango found her mouth forming words though her rational mind told her to remain quiet.
"Yes, Sango?"
"What are your opinions on 'the system'?"
Miroku turned to the girl, eyebrows raised. His reaction was no surprise, really, considering that Sango's question came completely from out of the blue. "'The system'… that your father established?"
"Uh-huh."
Miroku smiled. "I thought I made my views rather clear a few days ago; it's a system of preserving justice that's governed by fate and trust, which are…"
"Two completely unrelated topics," Sango cut off dryly. I'm a bit disappointed, actually… I expected better from him…
The guard sighed, letting his shoulders slump forward. "What did I do wrong now, Sango? You asked my opinion, and I gave it to you. You didn't need to interrupt me."
"I'm not saying you're wrong," Sango defended, "In fact, my father's told me exactly what you just said often enough. But… why is it that way?"
The guard turned away from Sango, straightening back up again. Looking at his profile, the girl couldn't help but notice that his eyes now shone with that unmistakable sincerity again. "Life itself is already dependent on those two factors to begin with, especially fate. When we're born, our destinies are determined; who we are, what we'll do with our lives, who we should love." Sango felt her face flush at that last example. "Of course, the minutiae that don't hinder this force can be controlled by us humans…"
"Minutiae?"
"Small, insignificant details or decisions that don't effect a greater outcome," Miroku explained. "Basically, no matter what events occur in our lifetimes, before we part from this world, our fates will have been fulfilled." He turned to face her, though his sincere eyes never lost their sparkle. "And that, dear Sango, is the key to this system of ours."
Sango was so caught up in his words, his eyes, and her conflicting views on him, she found herself believing everything that he said. It all sounded convincing, but… But what he's saying just isn't possible! Fate doesn't exist! These "events" in our lives are just one coincidence after another! He's wrong! WRONG! Determined to voice her own views, Sango exclaimed, "But, if what you say is true, fate can be changed, can't it? And what of trust? You said that trust is important, too!"
Miroku rested a hand on her shoulder. "Settle down Sango," he soothed tenderly, "I'll get to that." The feeling of his strong hand weathered from years of training on her exposed shoulder—the particular dress she was wearing was cut rather low—was enough to calm the girl down somewhat.
It was the location of his other hand that pissed her off again.
In the course of the next ten seconds, Miroku found himself wearing a handprint on his face, and Sango was stomping down the dirt path, one eyebrow twitching sporadically. Nope; still can't trust him.
"Sango, I'm sorry," whined the guard like a three-year-old boy.
"You said that yesterday, too, hentai," said Sango without looking back at him.
Miroku sighed. "You certainly have a point there." The knight jogged a bit to catch back up to the princess, who still refused to make eye contact with him. "Besides, I wasn't finished yet. Do you want me to go on?"
Silence. Then…
"Fine, then. I'm all ears."
Miroku grinned. "Alright. If that's what you wish, I'll continue. Where were we?"
"I'd just said that fate can be changed."
"Right. And you were correct to say that."
"Huh?"
"There are exceptions to the rules of fate, one of them being our renowned system. If, say, a man commits a crime and, when caught, must face 'the system', if he truly is guilty, he should select the door concealing the tiger. However, it is possible that he is not fated to die in that way, ergo, he should pick the lady's door."
"But, if he's guilty and he picks the room that hides the lady…" Sango took a moment to puzzle out Miroku's words. "It's… it's contradictory!"
Miroku nodded, smirking. "That's precisely why it's an exception to begin with. And, in cases such as these, trust steps in."
"But… why trust?"
"No matter what door the felon in question selects, he must have had some reason for choosing it. If he has faith in his own ability to make decisions—in other words, if he trusts himself—fate may work in his favor and produce a desired result."
Sango nodded dumbly for a moment. Everything he'd said made sense, but that didn't mean it was true. In fact… "That a load of bull."
"Excuse me?"
"Fate doesn't 'work in one's favor'. Even if you trust yourself, if you pick the door hiding the tiger when you think it's concealing the lady, nothing's going to switch the things behind the doors and you'll wind up dead anyway. Therefore, trust has absolutely nothing to do with 'the system'."
"I never said the doors would 'flip-flop'," Miroku pointed out, "But, at least if one trusts himself, he'll die more honorably."
"Dying is dying," Sango stated. "Once you're dead, you're… well, dead! People might feel sad that you're gone, true, but their mourning isn't going to bring you back to life."
"That's true as well. Death at the paws of a tiger, however, occurs in an instant. So, if in that instant, one could feel as though he was bettering himself, the last moments of his life will be much less painful."
"But you'll still die," Sango said, almost bluntly. "Nothing changes that."
"I suppose so…"
"SANGO-SAMAAAAAA!"
The voice that had just sounded, one that obviously didn't belong to her or Miroku, penetrated Sango's ears, which threatened to break from the sudden noise. And that annoying, ear-shattering voice could only belong to one person…
"Koharu-chan," said the princess, her patience already nonexistent. The lady-in-waiting charged toward her superior, stopping only a few inches from Sango's nose. "How are you today, Sango-sama?"
"Fine," came the curt response.
"And you, Miroku-sama?" sighed Koharu, her voice taking on a lovesick tone, making the princess groan in disgust. Ugh! The way she acts all sugary-sweet around him… it's enough to make me want to kill someone…
"I'm well Koharu-san. No, as a matter of fact, I'm great!" The guard waved his hands in front of his face as he spoke, almost as though he was swatting at a pesky flying that wouldn't go away. Which Koharu was. "What brings you here?"
"King Ouji wishes to speak to his daughter," Koharu stated professionally, as if she actually was an expert at what she did. The girl leaned closer to Miroku, a strangely seductive grin plastered on her lips. "That leaves just the two of us, Miroku-sama…"
Sango's eyes widened at the sight. Is she… hitting on him! The princess vaguely felt her soft, dainty hands turn into stiff, clenched fists. She has some nerve, barging in on our conversation like that and then turning around and flirting with him… I ought to wring her neck…
"It's alright Koharu-san." Miroku's voice brought the royal female back to reality and prevented her from slipping into a homicidal rage. "I'll take Sango to the king in your stead."
The lady-in-waiting cocked her (empty) head. "Are you certain? I mean, it's not really your job, after all…"
"My Lady Koharu!" the guard cut off loudly, his voice bursting with jovialness. "Don't be so foolish and dim-witted!" Koharu stood stupidly in front of the knight, oblivious to the fact that he was playfully mocking her. Sango, however, from the combined effect of Miroku's statement and Koharu's lack of observation, was sent into convulsions of laughter that refused to quell. The guard continued, "Everyone who lives on the palace grounds has one similar duty; to keep the princess happy! So, of course it is my job to escort her to her father. After all, we can't keep the king waiting."
Koharu's eyes shone with so much admiration, it looked as though her face would catch fire. "You're absolutely right, Miroku-sama! I'll go do the princess' laundry instead, now, and you can take her to the throne room!" The lady-in-waiting bounced off, murmuring to herself. "And why am I doing this? To keep Sango-sama happy, that's why! 'Cuz it's my duty to do that!..."
As the younger girl scuttled into the distance, Miroku sighed. "Well, that certainly got rid of her."
"You said it," responded Sango, in awe of her servant's innate ability to get stupider everyday. The princess turned to her knight, still smiling widely. "That was really funny, though. 'Foolish and dim-witted'. You don't know how right you are."
"Of course I do; I was making an observation, after all." Those words just sent Sango into yet another fit of giggles. Miroku smiled at this sound and began heading toward the throne room to fulfill his supposed duty. "Even still," he said suddenly, "She means well."
Sango paused for a second. "Koharu, you mean?"
The guard shook his head yes. "It's apparent that she tries her hardest to please everyone around her, and that she views you as a role model." The corners of his mouth tugged upward a little more, and he closed his eyes almost as though he was in deep thought. "She's a cute girl, Koharu. As strange as she may be, she'll make someone very happy someday."
Sango cocked her head. Just what was he trying to say, anyway? Koharu was nothing more than an annoyance, someone who wouldn't please anybody. And here he was saying that she was cute? What did that make Sango, then? A demon?
"Would you like to know something, Sango?"
The girl turned back toward him, surprised at the sudden seriousness in his voice. "What?"
Miroku smiled, eyes shimmering. "Just now… that was the first time I've heard you laugh like that."
Sango stood still for a moment, looking up at the guard, surprised at her own humorlessness. Have I really been that stiff around him? Am I really that somber? Do I laugh that rarely? And yet… when I'm with him, I… I feel like laughing all the time. He has that strange effect on me. He makes me…
…happy.
"We're here Sango," announced the guard suddenly, gesturing to the throne room's side door.
"Oh," Sango said softly, still lost in thought.
"Shall I take you inside?"
"No… no, I'll be okay from here."
The two stood, unmoving, facing on another. Both refused to be the first to leave, for reasons neither could place. But one of them wanted to say something completely different from a parting phrase.
"Kishi-sama?"
"Yes, Sango?"
She looked up at him briefly before turning away. "Thank you…" the girl said silently, "For… for being so kind to me." When he didn't respond, Sango gasped, wondering if she'd said something wrong. "I… I mean, I know it's your duty and everything, but…"
"Sango."
Sango. He'd called her Sango. Not princess, not Sango-sama, not even Sango-chan. Just Sango. Her name. No matter that he'd called her that only after her direct order; he'd obeyed her, after all, just as she knew he would. But Sango wasn't so surprised at the fact that he had complied with her order. The truth was that, when he said her name like that, it was enough to make her melt on the spot. In a good way, though. The best way possible. "Y… yes, kishi-sama?"
Miroku waited until she allowed her gaze to meet his own before he continued. "Remember what I told you yesterday? I'd said that I cared about you."
"Uh-huh…" What's he getting at? Sango wondered confusedly.
"I'm not nice because it's my duty or I don't want to displease you. I act the way I do… because I care."
"You… what?" Sango really couldn't get her words out, for her face had suddenly collided with the guard's chest, muffling her voice. Miroku pulled her into a strong embrace, knocking his chin against the top of her head and resting his arms just beneath the small of her back. "Nothing in the world would please me more than to see you happy. Even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness. Even if it mean sacrificing my very life. I want that for you. I want to hear you laugh like that again. I want to see you smile. That's all I desire… Sango."
There was her name again. When she heard him say it, Sango stopped breathing and froze up in his arms. In her motionless state, the girl was ultra-sensitive to any nearby movements… including one that was now occurring on the very top of her head. Sango felt something warm and damp press into the top of her forehead. Something that wasn't a chin, though very, very close to it… Now her heart wasn't beating anymore. "K… kishi-sama, what are you…"
"Sh," he breathed, his voice alone enough to send Goosebumps prickling down the girl's skin. The guard tightened his grip around Sango, signaling that he didn't want to move anytime soon. Quite frankly, actually, Sango herself didn't want that either. Right now, she just felt so at ease with him, as though nothing bad could ever happen to her, not with him there. What he'd given her was a secure feeling that wouldn't go away; she'd always had it, but never realized it until this moment. Sango desperately wanted to hold him longer and intensify that feeling, but something was holding her back. It was a notion she just couldn't shake, no matter how much she needed to.
And it was that notion that caused Sango to shove the guard away from her.
Miroku stumbled backward, his arms still a ring that once held the princess, and he said in a voice replete with surprise, "Sango…"
Now that name made the girl wince. Why did he have to call her that? "Kishi-sama…" What could she possibly say to him that would make sense; that wouldn't make her look as though she was out of her head? "This… what we're doing… it isn't right! I mean… I'm getting married… you're a pervert… trust… I… I need to go now, kishi-sama!"
Thinking of nothing else to do, Sango pulled the door to the throne room open, ran inside, and slammed it in the face of the stunned guard. She leaned against the adjacent wall, panting. Did she really have to take such drastic measures? Was it really so horrible that she was so drawn to him? Of course it is! Sango decided. Relationships between guards and most women usually aren't tolerated in the first place. Why should my case be any different? Besides, he held me because he's a womanizer. That's the only reason! There is nothing between us! Nothing!
So why do you care so much? squeaked a minute voice in her ear.
I don't care! That's the entire point!
It sure sounds as if you care. That second voice was beginning to get exasperated.
I guess… Sango slowly began to understand why she was so upset. It's just that… I can't care. He's so good to me, even when I treat him like he's nothing, and he really listens to me. He's so sincere and warm and open, and I really like that about him… but, no matter how much I like him, I know that we can't be together. By the end of this week, I'll be married to someone of noble blood, not a guard, and certainly not him. Sango sighed, having finally admitted what she'd always known to herself.
So that's why you don't care?
That's what I claim. But… I really do care. I want him to be happy. That's all. The girl looked up toward the ceiling, wondering if there was a being beyond the sky that had brought him to her, and if that same being would listen to her now. Clasping her hands together, Sango whispered, "Please, Kami-sama, if I can't have him, please let him be happy. Please…"
"Sango-chan."
The princess opened her eyes—she supposed that she'd closed them before in prayer—and saw King Ouji striding toward her calmly. As it was custom in the kingdom, Sango curtseyed as low as she could, squeezing her eyes shut so that he wouldn't see the tears that had recently formed in them. "Hello, father." Remembering why she was there in the first place, she quickly added, "I apologize for not coming to you as soon as I'd heard your summons. I was held up, and…"
The ruler held up a broad hand. "It's fine Sango, you're forgiven."
"Thank you, father," Sango said, rising.
After a moment's pause, the king said, "Are you alright, Sango? Your face is flushed, and you're breathing heavily."
"I'm fine, father," said the girl dismissively. More silence. Desperate to keep her thoughts from returning to Miroku, Sango said, "At any rate, why did you call me here?"
King Ouji smiled widely, eyes glistening with pride. "Sango, I wanted to tell you congratulations. You are now engaged!"
Sango's eyebrows shot up. She'd expected those words to be said to her at some point, but not now, not after all she'd been through. "That's… great," replied the princess, forcing a smile. "Might I ask who my future husband is?"
Placing an arm around his daughter's shoulder, the man informed her, "Actually, you've met him before, about three years back, I think. Do you remember Prince Naraku?"
Sango felt the color drain from her face as she half listened to her father, half mentally recoiled in horror.
A few hours later, Sango found herself stumbling into her bedroom, still reeling from the news from her father. Kagome was ready and waiting for her on her bed. "Congratulations," said the servant impassively, knowing full well of what had happened between Sango and her betrothed three years ago.
Sango looked down at Kagome with bloodshot eyes. "Why do you look so solemn?" inquired the princess detachedly. "This is supposed to be a happy time."
"Not so happy for you," pointed out the lesser of the two women.
Sango flopped backwards on to her bed, sighing heavily. "So what if Naraku's not my dream man? At least I'll be taken care of somewhat, and since he's the heir to his kingdom, too, our lands will become one, and that'll help us to unify the country. Anyway, father said that he's already on his way—there's no stopping him from coming now." The princess closed her eyes and curled into a fetal position, turning on her side so that she faced away from Kagome. The lady-in-waiting rubbed her superior's back lovingly. "Sango-chan, I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do for you, anything at all…"
"Actually, Kagome-chan," said Sango, perking up slightly, "There is."
"What's that?"
Sango turned on to her stomach, propping her feet up on a mound of pillows and resting her head in her hands. "Tell me about Inu-Yasha. Why do you love him?"
The servant girl knocked on Sango's head, a confused look on her face. "Sango-chan? Is that really you in there? Has this whole Naraku thing gone to your head?"
"Nope. I'm just curious."
After shooting another strange look Sango's way, the lady-in-waiting sighed and folded her hands. "You're asking me to explain something indescribable. Even now, I'm still confused. I mean…" Kagome trailed off and turned to her friend, eyes shining like those of someone under a spell. This was the look she usually got when speaking about her husband. "You remember when Inu-Yasha was new to the guard two years ago, right?"
"Do I ever," said Sango, turning on to her back, looking at Kagome upside-down. About twenty months ago, Inu-Yasha had stridden confidently on to the palace grounds a rude, brash individual. Of course, he still was rude and brash, but at least he didn't strut around as though he owned the place anymore.
"Then I don't need to remind you," said Kagome, peering down at the princess from her seated position. "That first day, I found him sleeping in the tallest tower while he was on duty. I went over and shook him gently to get him up so he wouldn't get in trouble, and the next thing I know, I'm getting an earful about how horrible I am."
"Typical Inu-Yasha," said Sango distantly. She had heard this part of the story at least twenty times, one for every month the guard had been living on the castle's grounds.
"Were you expecting any different? At any rate, I hit him and left him there, the both of us clearly pissed off. But… even still…" Kagome sighed almost in a lovesick way, and Sango, at the noise, propped herself up on one arm, attentive. Though Kagome often told and retold stories to the point where Sango had them memorized, this part was completely new to her. "…I couldn't get him out of my head," said the servant girl finally. "At the time, I hated him and even wished he was dead a few times… but I still couldn't stop thinking about him… I… well, there was something about him that I just couldn't forget about… that I just couldn't hate… so, eventually, I confronted him about how I felt and… well… now I'm married to him."
Sango sat in stunned silence for a moment. She couldn't believe how similar Kagome's case and her own were. After all, even though Miroku had first appeared to be the Prince Charming that Sango had always dreamt of—though she'd never admit it, of course—he, honestly, annoyed the crap out of her, just like Inu-Yasha had annoyed Kagome. That didn't stop her, however, from thinking about the dark-haired guard and, eventually, liking him so much.
Not that she'd admit that either.
"Why?"
"Wha'?" asked Sango, coming out of her temporary trance.
"Why do you want to know about me and Inu-Yasha? You really aren't the sort of person who cares about romance, so it's weird hearing you ask."
"It really is nothing…" Sango denied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
"So, who is it?" Kagome asked, leaning toward her friend.
"What?"
"Who do you like? It's obviously not Naraku…"
"Kagome, really, it's no one…"
"Could it be that Prince Takeda guy who was here the other day?"
"Kagome, stop it…"
"Or maybe Koga from the guard?"
"Shut up, Kagome." It's only a matter of time…
Kagome's eyes widened as something clicked in her mind. "It's Miroku." Sango stayed quiet, her face a vibrant shade of red. That was all that Kagome needed. She smiled and clapped her hands together in both joy and triumph. "Sango-chan! You're in love with Miroku!"
"I do not love him," said the girl through gritted teeth.
"Sure you do! I mean, you're blushing heavily enough! Aw, that's really cute, falling for a guard like that. I never expected it from you, of all people."
"But really, Kagome…"
"Wow," breathed the servant girl, marveling at the thought of Sango and her new love interest. "Sango and Miroku. Miroku and Sango. Your names sound really good together, do you know that?"
"Kagome, please, listen to me for a second." The lady-in-waiting turned to her superior, her smile beginning to fade. "What is it, Sango-chan? Is something the matter?"
Sango sighed. "Yes, something's the matter! I don't love Miroku!"
"Sango-chan…"
"I mean, sure, he's a great guy and all, but I'm getting married to someone else! And even if I wasn't, guards can't even get married in the first place! Don't you see, Kagome? All this talk of love, and me loving him… it's never going to happen! There's no way I can love him! None!" Finishing her rant, Sango moved about on the bed so that her head lay on the pillows, crossing her arms stubbornly. "I'm going to bed, Kagome-chan. You're dismissed."
"But, Sango-chan, you still haven't gotten into your bedclothes…"
"I can dress myself, thank you very much," said the princess mulishly. When the servant refused to move, Sango's voice turned more forceful. "Good night, Kagome-chan. You can go now."
After a moment, Kagome nodded. "Alright, then. Sleep well, Sango-chan."
Sango stayed still on the bed, waiting for Kagome to leave. It was only after the princess heard the door to her room close that she sighed dejectedly, trying to hold back her tears. It doesn't really matter anymore whether or not I really do love him, she thought sadly. I mean, I am engaged to Naraku, and if I try to pursue a relationship with Miroku, we'll both risk getting in trouble. The cheerless female sighed again, looking out her window at the guard's quarters. One by one, the lights in each of the one-roomed huts the guards slept in flickered out as their occupants stumbled into their beds. Deciding that she should do the same as they, Sango pulled on a nightgown and fell back into bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. Tomorrow, I'll have to tell him good-bye, she decided. I can't keep seeing him like this knowing that I can never be with him. But still, it's strange, she thought, turning on to her side and pulling the sheets up and over her head, I really don't want to do that. I've got the feeling that… once I say farewell, I'm going to miss him. So much. Sango felt her eyes flutter closed, as she drew the covers more tightly around her. So… does missing him mean that I really do… love him?
End chapter.
Gargh… finally done! ((hits head on keyboard))
vc mnjuj 8iuk,n m
Yup, that's what I typed. It probably means something to someone.
And with that, I say to you, my wonderful readers… review! Make me hyper! Pray that I don't kill my math average! Yell at me to go to sleep! Mwar… I'm really tired all of a sudden…