Disclaimer: Nope, nobody home but us non-Inuyasha-owners. Depressing, ain't it? Also, I still don't own the brilliance of William Shakespeare or 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' Dunno if he'd be angry about copyright issues, but I don't wanna be haunted by an Elizabethan ghost. shiver Those big-ass ruffs scare me…
A/N: Yay, medlii! I like introducing people to Shakespeare. He rules.
Okay, for the purposes of this story just pretend that Sango and Miroku have been more than a little comfy with each other—no, no, not that, you pervs! Minds out of the gutter!—and Inuyasha and Kagome have been worse than usual. It just makes more sense for the story. I plead artistic license.
2
Time To Go"Baka!"
"Jerk!"
"Whiner!"
"Pighead!"
"Bitch!"
"Osuwari!"
"Aaugh!"
Shippou sighed gustily. "Weren't they at this… oh, five minutes ago?" he complained.
"More like two, Shippou-chan," Sango told him wearily. Miroku smiled at both of them, slinging a casual arm around the pretty taijiya's shoulders.
"Inuyasha is, as we all know, an affirmed moron," he said seriously. "Kagome-sama is both beautiful and in love with him. If I were in his place, I wouldn't waste another second in accepting her—"
"Hey-y," Sango warned, slugging him lightly in mock anger.
"—high regard," he finished easily. "If, of course, I didn't have such a lovely distraction…"
"That tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble again, Houshi-sama," the young woman snickered, blushing and grinning all the same.
"Is that an invitation?"
"Hentai!" she gasped in mock outrage. He raised an exaggeratedly innocent eyebrow at her, then grinned. She shook her head, laughing, but it didn't distract her from the seemingly-careless hand that drifted down toward her—
"Houshi, you're asking for it!"
Miroku sighed and dropped his arm back to his side. "Can you blame a man for trying?"
"Will it matter if you have to nurse a headache again?" She met his gaze squarely, a smile still playing around her gaze. A second later it vanished, and her eyes flew open.
Crack!
The monk massaged his smarting cheek and winced as Sango flexed her hand threateningly, rubbing her manhandled bottom. "Kami-sama, why did you make me a masochist?" Miroku asked the air in general.
"Since when did Kami-sama have anything to do with it?" Shippou asked curiously. "An' you don't seem to mind it when you don't get slapped." Then his little brow furrowed. "…Do you ever not get slapped?"
The kitsune's query was punctuated by something smashing to pieces in the house where Kagome and Inuyasha were still wrangling.
"Cute couple," Miroku noted, grimacing. "They're crazy about each other, but he won't admit it, and she's too proud to show it any other way." Sango sighed in mute agreement. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she met the Buddhist's eyes again.
"Maybe we should leave them to work things out with each other," she said slowly.
Miroku blinked. "I'm not sure I follow you."
"Think about it," she persisted. "At this point, it'll take a miracle to get anything done with those two so riled up all the time. And Naraku... he's still out there." Sango avoided looking at the houshi's hand, with its momentarily sealed kazaana, but both their minds were on it, and on the scar that rippled the skin on her back... put there by her own brother, at Naraku's command... "We need to find him fast, and if those two don't settle out soon, we'll run out of time."
"I see," the monk murmured quietly. They both knew that, sooner or later, the kazaana would swallow him whole if Naraku did not die. They both knew that if Sango had to face Kohaku again, none might be left alive—for the taijiya's little brother could no longer rightly be called living.
He hadn't told her that the throbbing, pulling pain of the black hole grew worse every day. She hadn't told him about the tears that came every night, to wash cold splinters of self-doubt further into her heart.
A brisk expression appeared on Miroku's face. "You're right, Sango-chan," he told her. "Two people can move much faster than five, and Kirara can fly us if we need her to."
"Wait!" Shippou demanded. "You're just going to leave us? You're going to leave Kagome—and me!—alone with dog-breath?
"Shippou-chan, of course—" Sango began consolingly, but Miroku interrupted her.
"I'm afraid so, Shippou."
"Why?" the kitsune wailed. "Can't I come with you? Pleeeease?"
"Why can't he?" Sango asked the houshi, confused.
"Shippou's right," Miroku explained. "We can't abandon Kagome-sama to battle Inuyasha alone. Shippou, you have to stay with her, so she's not so alone. She needs you more than we do," he added at the fox kit's doubtful look.
Shippou thought about this for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. "Yeah, she does."
Sango ruffled the kitsune's hair sympathetically. "Thank you, Shippou-chan. I know you don't like being left behind." Shippou sighed gustily, then gazed up at her with beseeching eyes.
"Can you at least bring me back some candy?"
Miroku rolled his eyes, and Sango smiled. "If you promise not to tell Kagome-chan and Inuyasha, I'll see what I can do," she bargained.
"Deal!"
Miroku watched Shippou race happily off, smiling a little himself. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Sango. "Think he'll manage it?"
"For a little while, at least," she admitted, whistling for Kirara. "We'd still better get going quickly. If either of them find out, they will come after us. Kirara, there you are. Thank you, dearest." This last was because the neko-youkai had brought Sango's armor and Hiraikotsu; the praise made Kirara stretch languidly as if to say 'oh, it was hardly work.' The taijiya scratched the big firecat behind her ears, talking to her. "We're going to go for a while, Kirara. Just Miroku and me. And you. Are you up for a journey?"
Kirara gave her taijiya a look that plainly said, 'I'm going to pretend that wasn't a question. Now, when are we going?' Sango smiled wryly, then glanced at Miroku.
"Are you ready to leave?"
"Always," he replied, bowing slightly. "Who could resist, with such lovely companions?"
Sango laughed. "Houshi-sama, you're something."
"I think I should thank you." He swung onto Kirara's back after Sango had settled herself in, lightly resting his hands on her hips. She was relaxing more around him, he noticed, pleased. A few months ago, she might have given him a death glare for such a trick; now, he could almost feel her smile as he snugged a little closer to her. He smiled as well, and Kirara took off.