Well, this is it; the final chapter. This one was particularly fun to write, which explains why, for once, I managed to meet the "deadline" I'd set for myself. ((smiles proudly)) I was also pleased to see the reviews I'd gotten (fifteen for chapter seven; a new record for Lucinda! W00t!); a few of you guessed the door Sango chose. I'm happy to see that I have so many smart readers! ((gushes)) So, enjoy!
Day Eight
…the morning of Sango's sixteenth birthday had just begun.
However, the princess didn't feel like celebrating.
Not when she saw a trembling, female-shaped form step out from the door on the right.
"Miroku… sama…" it whispered, its voice shaking almost as much as its body.
The guard who had just been addressed nodded at it, donning his customary smile. "Koharu-san," he said simply in identification as two armored men came up behind him and removed the shackles from his limbs. Miroku flexed his arms and legs as they returned to their natural color, and, once he was done, reached out a hand to her, beckoning the lady to come out of her room.
At this gesture, Koharu began vibrating so quickly, her body was a blur. With a squeal of happiness, she leapt onto him, throwing her arms about his neck. A quiet sigh escaped Miroku's throat as he settled his arms across the small of her back, lacing his fingers together there.
Sango bit her lip as she watched them.
Hadn't he held her in the same way a few days ago?
It was an embrace that he should only use to hold her! It belonged to the two of them, not to him and Koharu!
Sango's jealousy peaked, and she bent in half and grabbed her knees as hard as she could, trying to channel her envy through the pain. Don't forget, she thought miserably, wincing at the agonizing sensation occurring on her legs, you brought this upon yourself. You sent him to that door. You allowed the two of them to be this way.
The princess' teeth clamped down on her lip even harder, the force this time enough to elicit blood. But… but… it wasn't supposed to feel like this. I wasn't supposed to hurt so much inside. And the worst part of it is…
…is that the pain is my fault.
Their happiness is my fault.
My decision to spare his life…
…it's all my fault…
Sango felt the pulse of her heart through the wound on her lip. The numbing pain that appeared and faded only to come back once again with every beat was enough to distract her from the tears pouring from her eyes. The tiny droplets ran their course down her face, mingling with the bitter-tasting blood on her maw and dripping from there afterward. Sango didn't care that the mixture was staining the dress she was wearing. She didn't care about anything anymore…
From beside her, the loud, booming voice of her father sounded, echoing over the entire amphitheater. "Summon a priest from the audience. Let the two in the arena be wed."
At these words, the expectant crowd, who had kept themselves from shouting until their leader made this declaration, got to their feet and applauded, cheering loudly all the way. The men on the rim of the arena whooped raucously, throwing themselves against one another in celebration. Sango thought her ears would explode from all the noise. She covered them and brought her head to her knees, wishing the din would stop and the morning would end. The sooner this whole ordeal is over, the better. But, even still, Sango knew somewhere inside that, no matter how much she stopped up her ears, no matter how tightly she shut her eyes, no matter how much she prayed for a miracle, the pain she felt now wouldn't cease.
King Ouji chose that moment to turn to look at his daughter, his face clearly expressing how overjoyed he was that the guard in the arena would soon be married and out of his hair forever. What he saw, however, wiped the smirk off his face. There sat the princess, bent and broken-hearted, in her chair, body quaking with the sobs that plagued her. The king even noted the blood on her dress. "Sango-chan," he said gently, not wishing to upset his oldest child anymore, "Please look up. Don't you want to see that man get married?"
After a deep breath in between tears, Sango managed, "I… I can't. I just… can't."
The ruler's expression, in the past minute, had turned from joyful to befuddled and, now, to cross. "That was not a request, Sango; it was an order. Look at me now."
The girl kept her head on her legs for a beat before doing as her father asked. Looking at her, the king was completely taken aback. Blood and tears swirled down her face, forming serpentine rivulets that wound down her chin. Her eyes were red and swollen, mirroring the color of her caked lips, and her nose was running. Her forehead was crumpled up as well, the skin wrinkled so badly, she looked more like an old woman rather than a sixteen-year-old girl. But, despite his surprise at her sorry condition, King Ouji kept the angry look present on his face and said, "Watch them, Sango-chan. And wipe your mouth."
Sango was just as amazed at his response as the king was when he saw his daughter's face. She was obviously in pain, and that was all he had to say? She couldn't believe him! She couldn't…
"We are gathered here today to join these two young people together as husband and wife."
The princess was cut off from her thought process by the words of the priest in the middle of the arena. Miroku and Koharu stood before him, the girl clutching her bouquet tightly in one hand and holding Miroku's arm with the other. The guard stood stagnant, a serene smile still on his face. He looked almost happy to be there, though not quite as much as Koharu was, of course. In fact, despite the apparent bliss, judging by the way he was standing… it looked like he was waiting for something and impatient for whatever it was to hurry up and arrive. It was a queer expression, one Sango didn't know the meaning of. However, knowing Miroku, she was sure that his emotions were backed up with a reason; it was simply his nature.
After reciting a few more sentences that pertained to the marriage of the pair, the priest turned to the couple before him and said, "You two may now kiss each other. Once this is done, you will be bound together for all eternity as man and wife."
This was it.
The moment the onlookers in the stadium had been waiting for ever since they'd arrived and the moment that Sango had been dreading for even longer.
She could only watch as Miroku worked his arm from Koharu's grasp and used his now-free hand to tilt his bride's chin up to his face. Sango saw Koharu's eyes flutter closed as she slowly leaned forward in anticipation of the kiss, trying to drag on each moment as long as she could to savor it. Sango's hysterical mind perceived the sluggishness as Koharu's way of mocking her. Even still, despite how painful it was to watch the space between the two's mouths get narrower, Sango found she just couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene.
Nothing could take her gaze away from them…
…except for a flash of white to her left.
Somehow, Sango managed to look away from the couple and turned toward the movement she'd just seen. Considering that the whole audience was remaining still, holding its breath, waiting to applaud the duo in the arena when their lips met, the motion obviously hadn't come from there. No. It had come from inside the arena. But that's impossible, Sango reasoned. The only people allowed there are Miroku, Koharu, the priest, and the guards surrounding the area. There can't possibly…
Sango gasped.
A flash of white?
Guards in the arena?
The best friend of the man now getting married?
Sango had just figured out that she'd seen Inu-Yasha streak across the stage of the arena when she heard a roar.
One that she'd heard many other times in the past, during the "systems" of those men who had, instead of choosing the lady's door, opened the other one…
Standing there in the arena, snarling loudly, was easily the largest tiger Sango—or anyone else present, for that matter—had ever seen. Though its shoulders were hunched and it was crouched low to the ground, golden eyes scanning the enclosed area it was in, the beast's size was intimidating all the same. It was a wonder it was able to fit in that tiny cage inside the room! However, big or not, the point of the matter was that a bloodthirsty tiger had just been released into the arena, an animal that could easily overpower even the armored guards lining the edge of the stage.
An animal that could easily overpower the unarmored guard standing in the middle of the arena, a frightened young woman clinging to him fearfully.
"Miroku…" Sango whispered, her eyes set on the scene playing out below her.
Even all the way up in the highest part of the building, Sango could still her Koharu's senseless babble pouring forth from her mouth as a result of her newfound terror. "Tiger… no! Not at our wedding! Miroku-sama! Save me!"
Koharu's would-be savoir did not respond to this plea, as he was currently fixated on the tiger just a few feet away. The beast lowered itself to the ground even more, locking ocher eyes with purple and grunting. Sango saw the muscles in its legs tense; it was preparing to attack her beloved guard.
"No… Miroku…" At long last, Sango's tears had finally quelled, replaced by a sudden panic; at any moment, she realized, that tiger could pounce on her lover and tear him to pieces. No amount of deliberation on her part could have possibly foreseen this occurrence; though he had chosen Koharu's door, he would be slain by the tiger regardless.
But wait. Sango's fear came to a screeching halt as a sudden realization gripped her. Why would Inu-Yasha, Miroku's best friend, try to kill him? It makes no sense. But… but could that mean…
…could the purpose of the tiger be… to help save Miroku?
Out of the corner of her eye, Sango saw Inu-Yasha slip out from behind the door from which the tiger had come. Now her certitude in the fact that it had been he who she had seen pull open the door was assured all the more. In one hand, he held a sword, pulled from its sheath and ready to be used by its wielder. His other arm was hidden behind his back. The guard stepped out from behind the door slowly, glancing about himself nervously with each step. He looked like a criminal hiding from his pursuers, a person who walked stealthily as to guarantee that his motions would not betray his actions. As he joined the remainder of the knights now surrounding Miroku and Koharu, Inu-Yasha removed his arm from its hiding space and brought it into Sango's line of vision.
That hand clutched a long, thin spear.
One that Sango immediately recognized.
When we first met last week… Miroku held it while he was guarding me at "the system" we were at…
"Oi, Miroku!"
Inu-Yasha's voice rung out over the arena as he lobbed the spear at his friend, the weapon soaring through the air just as its user had intended it to. The thing looked almost graceful as it sliced through the overpowering silence that hung over the crowd, who gasped at the elegance of the weapon's fly through the sky.
Or perhaps they were gasping because the spear's tip was pointed straight at Miroku's heart.
At his friend's voice and the sudden stir in the crowd, the guard, at long last, tore his gaze away from the tiger's and watched as the spear sped toward him. He reached his arms up and over his head and unhooked Koharu's from his neck, not sparing a glance her way as he regarded the lance, not even looking at her as she fell backwards in shock at what was happening, groaning when she hit the hard, stone floor beneath her. The guard dashed from where he was standing, reaching up as the spear made its decline toward the earth. Miroku sidestepped the weapon's intended path perfectly so that he ran parallel to it and wrapped his fingers around its handle, skidding to a stop some twenty feet away from the great mass of orange hulking in the entrance to the doorway. At the abrupt movement, the tiger roared even louder than before and pounced, its huge body flying through the air just like the spear had moments before.
Sango gasped, having realized that, in turning around to grab the spear, Miroku's side was now facing the tiger's mouth. The hand that held the weapon was on the guard's right, while the beast was to his left, leaving him utterly defenseless against the jaws of the tiger. It truly does look hopeless, Sango thought as she watched the situation unfold before her. But what Inu-Yasha did just now… it looked too practiced to me… I guess then…
…I guess I'll just need to trust them.
I'll need to trust Miroku.
What happened next occurred so quickly, Sango was surprised she even remembered what had happened later. Miroku turned his gaze back to the tiger's and backed up, putting maybe another five feet between him and the beast and making his body perpendicular to its path. In a precise motion that probably took all of four years at the military academy to master, Miroku turned on his heel just as the tiger landed and threw the spear perfectly so that it flew just to the animal's right. After regaining the balance it had lost from its fall to the ground, the tiger snarled and charged toward Miroku…
…and, consequentially, stepped right into the path of the spear.
The weapon hit its target dead on, impaling the beast between the eyes, causing it to groan in pain. With this, Inu-Yasha raised his sword above his head and cried, "Slay it!" resulting in the twenty or so guards in the arena to unsheathe their blades as well. They, caught up in the commotion of the past few minutes, ran with the white-haired man and pounced on the tiger like savages, raking their swords across its flesh, staining orange with red. In time, the monster had been subdued to the point where it was no longer moving, when the blood ceased pouring from its wounds as its heart had stopped beating. At this point, Inu-Yasha looked up at Miroku, where he waited silently, anticipatively…
…and gave him a thumbs-up.
One that Miroku returned immediately.
Only Sango saw this signal between friends.
So only Sango understood its meaning.
This is what they had planned all along…
At this point, however, Sango heard a strange growling coming from nearby. She glanced about nervously, thinking fearfully—and somewhat incongruously—that the tiger had come back to life, before her eyes settled on her father seated next to her. The man was red in the face, his brows pointed downward in a furious slant and his hands clenched into white fists. Obviously, he hadn't expected the battle between the guards and the tiger either. Trying to look at anything but the king, Sango peered into the stage below her. She saw that a few guards had carried Koharu out of the arena—only her veil and bouquet remained there—and that others were attempting to haul the corpse of the tiger out as well. A few more were setting up huge incense jars at certain areas of the stage, sending the strong scent of cinnamon wafting into the air to cover the smell of the tiger's blood. Typically, this aroma signaled the end of the alleged criminal's "system", and, at this point, the crowd would start to get up and depart, chattering excitedly about what had occurred moments before behind the stone walls they were leaving.
However, everyone remained where they sat.
For Miroku's fate still hadn't been determined.
Sango turned to her father and discovered that he didn't look any better than he had a few moments ago. Lacing her voice with restrained curiosity, Sango whispered, "Father… what's going to happen to Miroku?" The girl saw his eyes slide in their sockets so that his gaze was now fixed upon her. "I mean… the tiger's dead. And Koharu… Father, she's only fourteen! She's not old enough to be married as of yet."
Apparently, Sango's undertone was louder than she had thought, for every head in the arena had turned to face King Ouji, his head a tomato perched upon his body. Through gritted teeth, he managed, "That guard… he needs a new 'system'…"
"Father, no!" Now Sango's voice was definitely above a whisper. Murmurs ran through the crowd as the spectators exchanged thoughts on the princess' sudden outburst. The voices were many and, from so high up above the crowd, alike to her, but Sango was able to discern one; "Perhaps she really does care for that guard?"
The girl's breath caught in her throat.
That was a question that, for the past eight days, she had been unable to answer.
One that she couldn't, not when she knew that she would be wed on this night.
But, right now, in this moment, the answer came easily enough:
Yes.
Yes, I do care for him.
I've never cared more about any other person in my entire life.
I…
I think, I need to care.
I think…
…I need…
…him.
"Father." Sango made sure that everyone—Miroku included—heard her, though she could barely believe she was about to say what she was going to. "I… I think that… the reason all of this has happened is that… that it might be the work of… fate…"
Though the majority of the crowd took this in quietly, two pairs of eyes widened at these words. One set belonged to Miroku, for he himself had heard her fiercely state her disbelief in the rules of destiny just a few days ago. The other belonged to her father, who had listened to her skepticism scores and scores of times throughout his life. The latter's gaze grew softer, his face paler, and he looked down, blinking in surprise. He knew that her sudden change of heart could only be accredited to one person; the one he had hoped would die maybe five minutes ago. Eventually, words came out from his tight throat; "Do you love him that much, Sango-chan?"
The princess barely heard the shifting of a thousand bodies in the stands as they turned toward her booth to hear her answer; it didn't matter to her if they knew or not. It was something she needed to say, and the words wouldn't carry more or less weight just because a few more people had heard them. Smiling placidly, Sango murmured, "…yes… I do."
A pause ensued. The arena was so quiet, one would think that a thousand people had stopped breathing all at once. Then, from the king: "What are we to do about Naraku, though?"
Sango felt the smile vanish off of her face. Looking down, she mumbled, "Father, about Naraku; there's something you need to know. Three years ago… he tried to force himself on me."
King Ouji's head shot up, his eyes spread wide. He turned to his daughter, barely managing to get the words out. "How… Sango-chan! Why didn't you tell me?"
Sango sighed. "A few days ago, when you said that he was coming and that we couldn't stop him… I just… I felt…"
The king's voice was still heavy with the shock he'd just experienced. "Sango-chan, never keep something like that from me again!"
"I won't, father."
At this, the ruler grunted. "I should hope not. Well, in that case, we're going to have to bribe the man out."
"Huh?"
"Naraku comes from a poor kingdom," King Ouji explained. "I'm sure that we can find something in our hoard of gold and the like that he'll take in exchange for the cancellation of your marriage."
Now it was Sango's turn to be surprised. "You mean… I don't have to marry Naraku?"
The king smiled, his malicious, angry side clearly gone for now, replaced by the benevolent gaze of a proud father. "Why would I allow you to marry a man that you would be unhappy with? Instead… Sango-chan, you're sixteen now. I think you can make your own decisions from here on out. Now, because you are to be married by the end of tonight, you must choose a husband. And Sango-chan…" The king made sure that his daughter was looking at him before he continued. "…you may select anyone you wish."
The breath completely left Sango's lungs, just as it had when Miroku had kissed her a few days before. She felt her head turn toward the guard in the arena, his purple eyes shining, face bearing that lopsided grin she'd come to love so much over the past week. Though her voice was a whisper, carried away by the slight wind ruffling her hair, Sango knew that everyone in the arena had heard her. Pointing in Miroku's direction, she said, "I choose him."
King Ouji nodded. "So you shall have him." For the second time that night, he called, "Summon the priest. The two shall be wed."
Sango turned to face her father, her confusion evident on her face. "Now? Here?"
King Ouji's body shook with laughter. "Sango-chan, Sango-chan, Sango-chan. A royal wedding must be big! Grand! Rememberable! And what better place to hold it than an arena packed with one thousand of your biggest fans?"
Right on cue, the people in the stands cheered, their eyes focused on the princess as she stood slowly and exited the royal family's booth from the front. In a dreamlike state, she walked down the steps of the arena between the rows, one thousand pairs of eyes staring at her. However, Sango herself was only aware of the gaze of one person, the one whose deep, beautiful, purple eyes were looking into her own.
As she neared the stage, Miroku strode forward to its edge. He face a stone wall about eight feet up that put some distance between where he stood and where the onlookers in the front row of seats outside were. Sango stood its edge, peering down at him from above. The guard, smiling, lifted his arms up, and the princess, at this silent signal, sat down and slid herself over the edge, falling right into Miroku's arms. She blushed madly at the nearness as she wrapped her arms around the guard's neck, holding him as tightly as she could. Miroku set her down on the ground, and Sango, after a moment of wobbling about, dizzied, found her balance. She also found herself wearing the veil Koharu had maybe ten minutes before, its various folds falling over her face perfectly, and clutching the bouquet of white flowers. When they had been forced onto her, she had no idea. But, no matter what, right now, she looked like a bride.
And, right now, she was ready to be a bride.
The priest's words rang out once more. "We are gathered here today to join these two young people together as husband and wife."
As Sango listened to him yet again, she felt a sudden heat press into her left hand. Looking down, she saw Miroku intertwine his fingers with hers, his broad palm resting against her small, dainty one. For a moment, she was frightened; there were so many people here, so many people watching them…
But then, she remembered; she didn't need to be afraid anymore.
For the past week, she and Miroku had met time and again, though their relationship with each other had been forbidden by everyone. But, now, now that they were allowed to be together, it didn't matter who saw or who approved.
And, as the priest prompted the couple to kiss one another and Sango felt her lover's hand tilt her chin up towards his face, and, as she looked into his eyes and saw the true emotion reflecting in their depths, and, as she felt his warm breath meld with hers as a familiar, comfortable sensation pressed in on her lips, she decided that what it all came down to was that that was all she had ever really wanted.
"So Naraku's gone, then?"
"Yes, he just left a few minutes ago," Sango informed her new husband as they strode down the hallway leading to her bedroom two hours later. "According to my father, he was awoken and shown increasing amounts of gold that he would be given in exchange for his withdrawal from our wedding. He refused all of them. But then my father showed him this tiny pink jewel he'd found somewhere —I think he called it the Shikon no Tama—and Naraku accepted it immediately. It's funny, though, I didn't really think he'd just pack up and leave, and with that small a prize, too."
Miroku closed his eyes thoughtfully. "From what I've heard, Naraku is full of surprises. Perhaps this is just one more."
"I suppose so." Suddenly, Sango said, "Oh! I completely forgot! How's Koharu doing?"
"Apparently, she's alright. She suffered a mild concussion from her fall earlier, but it's nothing to be concerned about. As per the man that treated her, the most damage it may bring is short term memory loss."
Sango couldn't resist laughing a bit. Short term memory loss… Wouldn't it be funny if Koharu woke up the next day having no memory of Miroku, not even being able to recall that the man she loved had been that close to marrying her? It would be…
But, somehow, Sango could derive no joy from Koharu's plight. She knew that, if their positions had been reversed and it was she who had lost her memory, the lady-in-waiting would probably feel saddened by her superior's situation and take it upon herself to help the princess recover her memory, or, at the very least, get better, as soon as possible. With that thought, Sango smiled. Miroku had been right; Koharu, despite the annoying exterior, really did try her hardest and just wanted to do her best to make others around her happy. Especially Miroku, Sango thought fondly, gazing upon her spouse in contentedness.
What she saw, however, made her gasp, evidence of her good mood purged from her face. Because he wore a short-sleeved shirt, the skin on Miroku's arms and hands was in plain sight. Most of the exposed area was swollen or red, long, deep gashes running down his forearms in random spots. Sango could even make out the places where the chains that had bound him a few days ago had laid. To top the whole ghastly sight off, his skin was coated with a fine layer of dust, accumulated from the time he spent in the dungeons.
Gaping, the princess managed, "M-Miroku! Your arms…"
The guard blinked and looked nonchalantly at his arms, indifference playing on his façade. "Oh, this?" he asked casually, smirking a bit. "They're alright. The wounds will heal soon." Stroking one of the cuts with a finger, he added, "I never quite knew how sharp the lances of the knights were before. As they say, experience is the best teacher, hm?" Sango nodded worriedly, understanding that he meant that, during the battle between the guards and the tiger just two hours before, her husband must have gotten so caught up in the fight, he had suffered a few injuries. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
Miroku smiled, and, in doing so, completely obliterated the anxiety his wife had felt. "I am. Besides, what are a few scratches compared to the prize I won for my efforts?"
After a short blushing session, Sango crossed her arms and turned away from him. "So I'm your prize, huh? I refuse to be treated like a trophy, kishi-sama."
Upon hearing her call him by his title, Miroku groaned, slumping. "Back to 'kishi-sama' again, Sango? And I was just getting used to 'Miroku', too!" he whined, sounding suspiciously like a two-year-old boy.
Sango sighed and uncrossed her arms, looking down. Honestly, she was still getting used to calling him that as well. His name tasted strangely in her mouth, its syllables foreign and new. She supposed it was something she needed to become accustomed to now that she was a married woman. That realization brought forth a plethora of other things she should adapt to, the most pressing being that, starting tonight, they'd be sleeping in the same room. Sango had never had to share a bed with anyone before, much less a member of the opposite sex. She wondered vaguely what it would be like to wake up every morning and see his face, his mouth upturned in a sleepy grin as he greeted her at the beginning of her day. It was difficult to imagine. But, as he'd said, experience was the best teacher, so, somehow, she would have to adjust.
Looking up suddenly, Sango saw a familiar door in front of her, one that she saw every night before retiring. "Oh, Miroku!" she called, pointing to the door once she was certain she'd gotten his attention. "My room is right over here!"
Miroku laughed slightly. "I'm sorry, but don't you mean our room?"
Sango sighed. Of course that was what she'd meant; she'd simply forgotten. She made a mental note to add that to her list of things she would need to get used to now that she was married. Heck, the fact that they were married in the first place was still new to her. I've really got a long way to go…
The girl placed her hand on the door, preparing to push it open and enter. However, she couldn't just go to sleep and call it a night yet. There was something she needed to know. "Miroku?"
Her quiet yet inquisitive voice made Miroku look at his wife inquisitively. "Yes?"
Silence filled the hallway, broken a few seconds later when Sango asked, "Did you… in your 'system' tonight, did you and Inu-Yasha have a plan set up so that you could leave the arena alive?"
Sango vaguely heard a chuckle that obviously didn't come from her own mouth and, turning toward Miroku, noted the sheepish smile gracing his lips. "You saw right through me," he said. "I admit it; we did. Might I explain our course of action to you?"
"What more is there to say?" Sango stated. "In order for your plan to work, you needed to know which room the lady was in so that you could open her door and pretend to wed her. Then Inu-Yasha would release the tiger to pose as a distraction as the lady was disposed of. In that sense, both of the options offered in 'the system' would have been exhausted, the only reasonable thing left to do being to let the criminal—er, you—go."
Miroku broadened his smile. "Exactly right. I couldn't have asked to wed a more intelligent woman."
Sango fought back the urge to blush. Something didn't seem quite right in this whole situation. "But, Miroku, if you just needed to find out which door held the lady, why couldn't you ask Inu-Yasha to tell you?" A sudden possibility entered her head; what if he used me just to find that out? I'll never forgive him if he did!
The guard sighed. "There were, of course, a few kinks in our plan," he began, "One of which being how to get the information to me in the first place. Though it is true that Inu-Yasha did know which door concealed the lady and which the tiger, as he was guarding their rooms in the first place, to ask him to transmit that fact to me would only hurt him in the end. As you may be aware, Inu-Yasha has had a… colorful history here at the castle."
Sango nodded, understanding. Inu-Yasha had probably been reprimanded more times for cursing, fighting, or otherwise acting inappropriately during work in the past twenty months than any other guard had during his entire career.
Miroku continued, "If Inu-Yasha were to have given that information to me, and, due to some error down the line, were to have been discovered having done so, the consequences for the both of us would have been massive. Inu-Yasha himself probably would have been relieved from his duties, taken away from his family, put into exile… the risk was too great. I needed to find out another way."
Sango looked down, eyes hidden by her scattered bangs. "So you did use me… just to find out…"
"Sango."
The girl looked up to meet his gaze and immediately rebuked herself afterward for doing so. Why the hell do I feel so compelled to look at him whenever he says my name like that? She really couldn't answer my question, as Miroku was already talking. "I didn't 'use you', per se. You decided on your own, so I've heard, that you wanted to give me that information yourself. And you told me what I wanted to know. And you sent me where I needed to go. Sango… I felt I knew you well enough to assume that you would find out, not because someone asked you to, but because that was what you yourself desired. And I felt, and still do feel, that I trusted you enough to direct me to the right door."
Sango felt her eyes grow larger. He'd just said that he trusted her. Hadn't they had a whole conversation a few days ago about how trust played a part in the revered "system" he'd just gone through? It all fits too well… everything goes back to it…
"Miroku!"
The guard looked up at the sound of her voice, and she swallowed. She had no idea why she had just called out to him, and even less of a clue why she was suddenly prattling on like an idiot. "I… um… I trust you too!"
"Sango…"
The girl nodded. Now everything was making sense. "The reason I led you to Koharu's door… I knew that you would go there! That you would listen to what I needed to say! And… and somehow, I got the feeling you wanted to be led there as well. I…" She looked up at him, eyes glimmering with a luster reminiscent to the one that always shone in his orbs whenever he was being sincere. "I really do trust you."
Miroku smiled, that same sincerity shimmering in his eyes now. "As do I you."
Sango looked away and smiled faintly. After all we've been through, I guess it's not a surprise anymore that we've become so close. But still, the verbal reassurance was appreciated—and blush-educing, as it turned out. Miroku smirked when he saw the scarlet grace her cheeks, saying, "You wouldn't mind my asking what caused your turn around today, would you?"
The princess made eye contact again, confusion playing on her features. "Huh?"
"If I recall correctly, you said earlier that you thought that everything that had happened tonight was a result of fate," he stated. "However, a few days ago, you told me that you didn't believe in destiny. Why the change?"
Sango shook her head, her already messy brown hair getting even more tangled from the movement. "No, no, you have it all wrong! The reason I said that was to get my father's attention so that he would let us be together. I really don't believe in it. I don't!"
Miroku smiled, shutting his eyes slightly. "Is that so?" he asked, his countenance clearly portraying his amusement. His voice, also laughing, however, turned graver as he continued to speak. "Perhaps what I shall say next will change that. On that first day, Sango… you remember don't you? I'd predicted that the man in 'the system' we were witnessing would be devoured by the tiger." Sango nodded, even though she knew that that statement was rhetorical. Miroku paused for a moment before going on. "The reason I said that… was because, somehow, I sensed that I would get a reaction. To speak during someone's 'system' is not considered a proper thing to do, as most people who participate in it will die at the tiger's paws. That's sufficed to say that I don't do so often. However, on that day… it was as though I felt the need to say something. I knew that I shouldn't. But I did. And you reacted to my words, just as I had sensed. And that…" He turned back to Sango, eyes set. "…was the beginning."
She didn't even need to ask what he was referring to. That day… that started our relationship. It started my adult life. It started…
…on that day…
…I think…
…my destiny began.
"So, you think that the reason you spoke… was because fate wanted us to meet?"
"That is correct."
Sango stood quietly, taking this in. That conversation we had… fate… trust… "the system"… everything relates back to it… it all came to its culmination tonight… all of that… it fits almost too well. Something as perfect as this…
…it can't be just a coincidence.
What if something bigger really is at work here?
What if fate is real?
What if…
Sango caught herself just in time. "No!" she exclaimed. "I refuse to believe it! Miroku… as convincing as it sounds, I… I still think that we determined our own futures. Fate doesn't exist! It's just something to point to to explain everything that happens in our lives. It's just…" Her argument died. There was nothing else to say on the topic. "…I just can't think the way you do."
A noise came from Miroku's direction, sounding like a strange cross between a sigh and a laugh. "You'll never abandon that, will you, Sango?" He glanced down at her, purple eyes glowing from behind his tousled black bangs. That same noise sounded again, and he smiled for the millionth time that day. "You'll never desert your opinion about predestination, no matter what I say… will you?" She gave no signs of a response. He wasn't expecting any. "That's another one of the many things I love about you, Sango."
She forced herself to look him in the eye. Is he being honest? A quick glance in his direction told her yes. In that case, she felt the need to add to what he'd just said. "And… and your ability to give such a good argument about fate… I… I really like that about you."
Miroku simpered playfully. "And the way your confidence is always floating about you… I love that about you."
Sango blushed, but continued to play along. "And the way you always see the good in people… I like that."
He took a step closer to her. "And the fact that you're so passionate about everything you do… I love that."
Now it was her turn to take a step. "And how you're so kind to everyone around you… I like that."
"And how you always think rationally."
"And how you try to understand what everyone is feeling."
"And how your face lights up when you're happy."
"And how you're just so happy all the time."
"And how generous and sympathetic you are."
"And how honest and open you are."
"And I love you."
They had been nearly nose to nose a moment ago.
Now, they were that distance, plus a step backward. Sango, eyes wide, gasped, "W… what?"
Miroku looked down, still smiling, and Sango could tell from that grin that he was not ashamed to admit something as big as that. "I always have, Sango. From the moment I first saw you I have. And I'm certain that I will never stop caring about you, regardless of those people who may try to stop me from doing so or the obstacles that we'll face together in the future. I do."
Sango met his gaze. She felt a sting in her eyes as a tear prepared to tumble down her face. "A… and I…" She choked on her words, almost unable to force out what had already been said. "I… I do, too. I… I…"
Miroku, smiling all the way, reached out a hand to brush away the tear that had formed. He walked forward one pace to fully close the gap between them. "I'm glad." He didn't make any movement to come closer. For that, Sango was grateful. Just standing there, looking into his eyes, his smiling face, his soul—everything—was enough. And, despite the story the tears in her eyes told, she couldn't be happier.
"Now," Miroku said, breaking the silence that had formed between the two, "If I understand correctly, Kagome-sama changes you into your bedclothes every night. However, it's extremely early in the morning, and your waiting maid is probably asleep in bed right now. In that case, you'll need someone to undress you for her…"
And then, Sango felt a familiar sensation running across her butt, and looked down to discover that one of Miroku's hands wasn't in her line of vision and was, in fact, behind her…
"And if you open the door even a little bit, you'll get a second handprint to go with that one!" Sango slammed the door to her room shut, crossing her arms as she leaned against it. On the opposite side of the door, a guard with a red, hand-shaped mark on his cheek sat on the ground, sighing. So close, yet so far…
The princess stood fuming for a moment, face reddening at the thought of that grope, that touch, that, for some reason, she just couldn't stand. Damn it, she thought, moving across the room to her dresser and pawing through its contents to look for a nightgown. Just because I married him doesn't make him any less of a pervert. He can't be changed as easily as that.
Sango groaned as she manually took off her dress and corset, fumbling with the many laces that ran across the clothing. She'd never really appreciated how difficult it was to take these things off on her own; perhaps Miroku really should have come in to help her… No! she scolded. Don't even think about that! If he had come in, he probably would have been touching other places besides your butt.
But despite that…
Sango stood still for a moment, stark naked and pondering. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. Her husband's antics were amusing, in a twisted sense. Even though he was the most polite, good-natured man she'd ever met… he was also the biggest pervert she'd ever known. Those two factors of his personality completely contradicted each other.
And yet…
She loved him anyway.
Yes.
She loved him and all of his idiosyncrasies. She loved that playful, yet serious boy she'd spent the past week with. She loved that thoughtful, yet lecherous guard that had sworn to protect her no matter what. She loved that enigmatic, yet open man whom she held in such high regard and who she hoped would come to respect her someday just as much as she did him now.
As she yanked her nightgown over her head, Sango called, "Miroku? I'm dressed. You can come in now."
And, as she crossed the room and pulled open the door to reveal that boy, guard, and man that she loved so much, she realized that it didn't matter anymore whether their being together was right or wrong or anything else in between.
She felt good when she was around him, a feeling caused by her love for him that had grown over the past few days.
A love that was returned.
A love that would always be returned.
And…
Sango saw him step across the threshold, characteristic smile on his face, and felt his arms snake around her neck as the corners of her mouth turned upward into a smile.
…that's really the way things should be.
End fic. Wow. It's over. Completed. Done. Wow… ((stares off into distance))
I hope that the ending I dreamed up was satisfactory; a lot of you seemed to pick up on the theme of fate, definitely a plus in my book. And Sango's musings at the end, I think, are really a foundation for her and Miroku's relationship. Also, this was really the first time I attempted anything that was somewhat fluffy, though I think my WAFF came out more like mush. Ah, well.
And, before I draw my exceedingly-long author's note to a close, I would like to take a moment to thank each and every one of my readers. Between over three hundred hits for this fic in the past week and 68 reviews for the first seven chapters, two numbers that I was extremely pleased with, you can only imagine my joy that my first series fic was pretty successful. I honestly didn't know what I'd have done if I didn't think anyone was reading or liking this, and so, all I can say is thank you. I hold a place in my heart for each of my readers and, when I read youf wonderful, and sometimes hysterical, reviews, I just get so happy I could burst. So thank you. ((bows))
Now! Seeing as it is my birthday today… how's about you guys go all out on your reviewing, for old times sake, eh? I look forward to hearing your opinions, positive or negative, about this chapter or this fic in general. Once again, thanks to you all. Buh-bye! ((waves))