AN: Here we are again! Another chapter... Gomen... Gomen... I should've uploaded this long ago... But hey! Better late than never... Which seems to be my mantra of late, but still. We will probably start uploading more consistantly from mid-September or so when PoF regains computer access... Don't worry, things just keep getting better from now on. Thank you to all of you who reviewed! Please let us know what you think of this chapter! We love feedback!
Chapter Fifteen: The Source of the Kazaana
Miroku looked over Sango with a soft expression. "You got yourself cut," he said, then his face hardened. "I shouldn't have let that happen," he hissed and clenched his throbbing hand with enough strength to grind the Buddha beads into his skin. "This is all your fault, Sesshomaru!"
"Mine?" The tall demon thought over this for a moment. He sheathed his weapon, and his hand began to absentmindedly –even almost affectionately- stroked Kagura's head. He chuckled dryly. "I suppose that you could regard all this as my fault, as I was sitting on the throne Naraku took from me, but why not blame the real instigator, Miroku? Or are you merely trying to relocate the blame of your failed masculinity?"
Sango elbowed Miroku gently, giving him the 'don't agitate the demon' face. Then she smiled at him. "Getting cut comes with the job. I don't mind it, so neither should you. I've never been ashamed of my scars," she lied. They served to remind her of what she has survived, but at the same time they reminded her of everything she nearly hadn't lived through.
Miroku turned to his wife and picking up some water in his hand, began cleansing her wound. "I always loved them," he whispered to her, as he began tending to the flesh wound.
Gasping for air, Kagura waved Sesshomaru's hand away and slowly, achingly sat up clenching at her empty chest, where her heart should be and cursing Naraku with her entire soul.
Kagome looked over at Inuyasha, her expression puzzled. "Made from?" She questioned.
"Our friend Kagura here is made from a part of Naraku," Inuyasha explained, though he didn't know much about it either. He noticed that Sango had pulled her eyes off of her gentle husband to listen in. The bloodied demon suppressed a sigh. "I'm not the right person to look to for information on this. All I know is that he's strong enough that he can actually make demons from pieces of himself. Like he did with Kagura, and Kanna too, if I recall correctly. I don't know how, but even I know that it's not right, someone like him creating life like that…."
He realized that he might have just insulted Kagura, and uneasily scratched his right ear. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Sesshomaru sat back down. "You should listen to Kanna. Go back for now, let him think he taught you something. Eventually Naraku will fall, I promise you that, Kagura."
Kagura couldn't stop herself from laughing in his face. "Let him think?" Kagura asked, her temper raising and flaring. "He squeezed my fucking heart!" Kagura screeched at him before regaining her cool composure and pouty expression.
Standing up and smoothing her hands over her crumpled kimono, working out the wrinkles, Kagura stared at him with her chin held high. "Your promises are worthless. I came to you realizing you were probably the only one strong enough to stop him. This is my reward for betrayal? I go back and I am as good as dead," Kagura seethed then pulled a feather out of her done up hair. "As are you. Kanna's mirror sees all, remember?" An ironic smile pulling at her lips. "And she, unlike me is faithful," Kagura reminded then turned to look down at the half-breed with disgust.
"A half breed of a human and demon speaks down to a pure demon?" Kagura sneered. "Watch your step 'prince', on the hierarchy of classes. You are filth, while I rein supreme," Kagura spat, then sneered menacingly. "You trade one of Naraku's 'creations', as you put it, for another," Kagura said her eyes fixing on Miroku. "How apt for your double standards," she flung at them and threw the feather up in the air where it transformed into a giant feather, one which she rode riding the winds high above them, away towards Naraku and her punishment.
Kagome stood in silence the whole time, before finally hooking her bow over her shoulders, crossed over her chest. "Well… He must be powerful indeed. We need to decide where we go from here," she whispered, purposefully ignoring that last suspicious remark.
Sango wasn't quite so forgetful. She glanced at her husband. So Naraku was whom had given him the power. But then… why turn against him? She'd have to sit down and have a talk with her husband. And Sango didn't think she'd enjoy it.
Pouting only slightly, not having meant to be disrespectful to Kagura, Inuyasha followed her until she was out of sight. He had known what Sesshomaru had meant. Was it actually possible that his brother truly cared for the seductive demoness? He had to admit that it was a decent, though dangerous combination: both of them were heartless, after all. "I vote for bathing and food."
His head whipped around to glare at his brother before Sesshomaru could say anything in regards to Inuyasha's simple demands. "Shut up."
The impression of a grin fleetly crossed his face, but vanished. "I was only going to suggest that you could all bathe and rid yourself of all those troubling pheromones, and then you could dine at the camp. Obviously there are things we need to discuss, Inuyasha. This is, after all, a family matter." It was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic or serious.
Kagome didn't like the idea of having to deal with Sesshomaru. She still remembered how frightened she felt when he clamored about her and how violated she was when he tried to purge the bite from her neck. Kagome had to hide her hands behind her back, so that he wouldn't be able to see their trembling. "Does family include us?" Kagome asked deliberately.
Miroku didn't meet Sango's eyes when he finished tending to her wound and turning away to wash her knife better then she had on the grass, by rubbing it in the water. "Didn't you know that baths and pheromones go well together?" Miroku asked as he in one fluid movement, powered by love, lust and self hate grabbed Sango into a heart stirring embrace and heart searing kiss.
Sango managed let out a surprised sound before she relaxed in his arms, wrapping her own around his shoulders. She'd ask him all the questions that had been bothering her since that morning later on, after she'd enjoyed herself. Her fingers shook and a moan escaped her throat and she clung to him tightly.
The ex-king of demons glared at their disgusting display of love. "Family includes my brother, and by association I suppose that includes his bitch too…."
"Don't talk like that to Kagome!" Inuyasha roared, leaping up and pointing the transformed Tetsusaiga at his brother. His golden eyes pierced through his white bangs, suddenly fiercer than even his brother's. "She's my wife, Sesshomaru! If you can't accept her as such, the least you can do is show a bit of respect for her and for my feelings by calling her by name!"
Sesshomaru watched the display emotionless. "Perhaps you are the bitch of the relationship," was all Sesshomaru really had to say about the situation. "Feelings? You stink of pheromones!. Those are urges. Not emotions," Sesshomaru pointed out coldly, before turning off of his standing stone, and walking off onto the ground soundlessly. "It's not safe here," Sesshomaru said and walked away toward the direction from whence he came.
Miroku opened his eyes to look over Sango's face at Sesshomaru's retreating figure. Suddenly feeling Sango's hands where they really shouldn't be right now, he let out a groan and rolled his eyes back at the sensation before shaking his head and pulling away from the kiss. "Fighting really does give you an extra jump, doesn't it?" Miroku asked somewhat breathlessly as he looked adoringly at his wife, if not meeting her eyes.
Turning them however to Inuyasha, Miroku motioned at Sesshomaru. "I'm gathering we are meant to follow."
"This is just isn't going to be my day," Inuyasha sighed, collecting their belongings. He threw his jacket on, staring at Kagome. Inuyasha shook his head lightly, and squeezed her hand. "He's wrong," he swore. Sesshomaru was making it sound like all he was concerned about with Kagome was sex. That wasn't true. For some reason, he felt like he had to make sure that Kagome knew this too, as if Sesshomaru's words were able to sway her in the same way that the arachnid-like jewel had.
Kagome smiled softly, a small hurt look on her face. "I've just gotta learn not to take things to heart," she told him honestly. Shrugging, Kagome walked with Inuyasha hand in hand after Sesshomaru. "You two really are alike." Kagome considered that then quickly amended, "I mean, except that you have a heart, soul, and I love you tons."
Sango crossed her arms. She stood in front of Miroku when he tried to follow Sesshomaru. Her brown eyes were as stubborn as ever as she looked up at her sexy monk, or as he wasn't dressed as such, her devilishly handsome pirate. "Don't worry, I'll get out of your way, once you look me in the eyes, Miroku."
Miroku didn't want to. Not now. So closing his eyes, Miroku pulled Sango to him, pressing his hips against hers. "You're not going alright," he murmured against her lips.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she let his lips touch hers. He tasted like Miroku, so… why was it she felt like crying when he held her? Sango pushed the thought away, trying to focus her mind on the words that made her feel like a teenage schoolgirl doing something improper, instead of a married woman with her husband. Sango loved it when he talked to her like that. She let her fingers tips run down his cheeks, but the unwanted thoughts kept rising to the surface.
Why didn't he want to look at her? His hands were so gentle when they had cleaned her wound for her. His kisses, the way he held her, she could tell by them that Miroku still wanted her. The way her own skin began to feel warm to the touch but still break out in goose bumps made it clear to her that she still wanted him. Of course she wanted Miroku! She wanted to make him smile as much as a wink from him made her grin.
So why wasn't he grinning?
She made a protesting sound when his lips pulled back slightly, but it was almost more of a whimper. Sango was so confused! She wanted him, he wanted her: but why wouldn't Miroku look at her?
When his hands fell from her back to start to pull at his clothes, she reached down and caught them. She wanted more of this first; more kissing. Let Miroku become as confused as she! But then she felt his skin, and she knew something was wrong.
Sango pulled away from him and looked down at his hands. He wasn't wearing his wedding band. Looking at their entwined hands, and the ring still on her own finger, she felt like something snapped off from her. Sango felt so alone in the strange demon world… and so abandoned. She looked up at him, expecting to see an answer in those eyes that always changed hues, but that always belonged to the same decent soul underneath… but he still wouldn't look at her. "Miroku?"
Miroku just shook his head, understanding of that pleading note etched in every line on his face. "No... Sango... It's not like that... Sango, wait, I can explain," he tried as she backed up from him.
"Try me!" she snapped, cracking her knuckles as her shock and pain gave way to rage and even more pain. She felt tears on her cheeks, but didn't care. She hadn't cried from pain when she'd been in the dungeon, or hurt in battle, but this new pain was worse than any of that. It hurt her in the one place where no other wound could reach: her soul.
When the first tear fell... Miroku thought he was dying.
Spying on her, drinking with her, drunkenly marrying her, pleasuring her in bed, talking to her, just being with her and sharing low blows as well as actual ones, he had never seen her hurt. But now, hurt enough to cause a physical reaction, hurt caused by him... Miroku hated himself more then ever. He had hurt the woman who agreed to bare his children. Worse, she was the woman whom he had asked to be the mother of his children. A mother to them. Only she and no one else...
"Sango, I took it off when you were kidnapped... After you were gone... I knew that if I kept it on, I would go crazy with anger and want, I'd have ended up hurting someone... I had to." Miroku stepped towards her and took the punch she delivered him in stride. "I told you I would destroy this world, and Sango, if I had kept that ring on... I would've."
Her bottom lips began to tremble, and she couldn't look at him after she punched him. She knew he was telling the truth, but that didn't stop the stinging in her heart. "Why won't you look at me!" Sango demanded angrily. "I don't care that you aren't wearing your wedding band! Go ahead and sleep around, at least I know that I'm the one you love! But when you can't even look at me, Miroku!..."
Miroku grabbed her wrist roughly. Maybe a bit too strongly, and stared into her eyes with pure honesty. Almost cold, a shoving it in your face type of way. "Sango, I would never cheat on you or betray you like that," he hissed and swore all at once then pulled her close to him, holding her hips firmly against him. "If that isn't evidence enough..."
Miroku opened his eyes and looked at her, his fingers trailing through her hair. "I may flirt, my eye may wonder but this," he nudged her again, "and my heart and soul are all yours," Miroku told her. "Don't go shrugging it off to my not looking at you! I was- I AM aren't I?" Miroku demanded. "I'll put on the band right now. I forgot to place it during the night..." Miroku said, his voice drifting.
"Yes…." She felt weak and safe all at the same time. It was their first real fight as a couple. Relief flooded through Sango. God, she knew that he would never cheat on her! She knew that, all she'd wanted was to have him look at her. He told her sweet things, but at the same time, he hadn't even been able to look at her! Now that he was…. The tears seemed to vanish from her brown eyes, and she relaxed against Miroku, practically throwing herself at him. She didn't know why there was relief in her heart, but she could practically hear it sigh. Still, she felt like it was breaking, this time with happiness, and her breathing was still faltering, even if no more tears fell from her eyes.
"I don't know why, Miroku! That's what I want to know. You could never look at my face again and I could accept that as long as I knew why! Have I hurt you in some way?" She opened her mouth to ask if he thought her ugly, or if he regretted marrying her, but she knew in her mind and heart that that wasn't the case. All their conversations, all their smiles, all told her the answer to those questions was a heartwarming 'no'. But she couldn't figure out why, and so the only thing that she could think of, was that she must have hurt him. Sango clung to his shirt. "Tell me what I can do to fix it…."
"You're killing me," Miroku stated raggedly, his hand traveling through her long hair. Pony tail or not, he was working out her hair till it split over her shoulders. "You've done nothing Sango, but be perfect," Miroku murmured against her hair, his hands traveling to her rear and feeling its perfect shape. "I just..." Miroku paused, his eyes looking over his shoulder, they were soon going to lose track of the others.
Sighing, Miroku pressed his forehead to the top of her head. "You've only made me wish I remained a monk," he confessed, then took her hand and achingly pulled away from her. "We ought to be going."
"No," she said, stubbornly refusing to move. He'd have to pick her up and carry her if he really wanted to follow Sesshomaru! "Kagura called you a creation of Naraku. I want to know everything, and I want to know now, Miroku. No more fucking secrets! So, what? Naraku gave you the hole in your hand? Is that what she meant by 'creation'? And if so, then why did you turn on him? And… and why is it that ever since we met with Kouga you've been acting like somebody fucking died?"
"Because someone fucking well might!" he yelled back, forgetting himself. Looking away, Miroku's expression remained dark as he avoided her gaze and walked to where he tossed off his jacket. Pulling it on, Miroku pulled his ring out of the pocket and slipped it on. "Kagura says a lot of things. I wouldn't listen to Kagura," Miroku said harshly.
Calming himself, Miroku turned to Sango with as close to an expressionless look as he could muster. "Naraku gave my grandfather the hole. It passed down the generations. I didn't know that, only after I came to him asking to sell my soul for the power to control it. After the deal was struck I found out he gave it to my family. I was never on his side," Miroku explained, sharing only as much as she needed to know. Scorn of his stupid youthful stupidities aching in him. "His 'creation', as she put will kill me. As it did my grandfather and my father, the hole will expand until it cannot be closed and swallow me up," Miroku told her, not batting around or playing footsie about the subject. "I bought a few more years, by gaining these extra demonic powers. They help my durability," Miroku said, his gaze hard and pained. "Is that enough or do you wish to hear more?" he asked, hating the fact that he had to tell her, prepare her for widowhood while he still lived.
"More," she whispered, taking the hand in question and kissing its knuckles. Oh, she felt shit now. But she fought through it and placed his hand over her heart: this was the time to make Miroku feel better, not time for her to pity her big mouth. She felt like she'd been slapped, but she knew that however badly she felt, Miroku felt worse. Sango stared into his eyes, not afraid to show him that she still loved him and that she refused to give up hope.
Somehow, after finding out about Kagura, she found that this was much more easier to accept.
Pressing her lips against his briefly, she repeated it. "Tell me everything, Miroku. Tell me everything you know about this so I don't open my mouth and make a fool of myself. You're my husband, Miroku. If this is your burden to carry, then now it's mine to help you with."
"Your only burden is to be happy when I'm dead," Miroku told her forcibly, almost commanding. "I..." His eyes softened. "Sango, I want a son to continue on after me," he told her truthfully. "I don't want my family line to die with me." His eyes lowered and he hated this world. He hated the way the air turned cold and empty, scentless, colorless, just void. "Come now, Sango," he said holding out his good hand to her, the other he kept away from her as though it was a poisonous snake. "I'm a man with much to do," He told her, throwing her one of his winning grins.
It came short. "There is nothing else to tell, but that I love you and apologize for not telling you sooner." He pressed his lips against hers. "My lady Sango, you can never make a fool of yourself."
"I can, and I did," she protested. Sango took his hand. Knowing Miroku, he'd have both of them working soon. If not, then she would just have to start coming up with a plan to prove that she loved him: all of him. She kissed his lips, his chin, and up to his cheek, where she pressed hers against his. Sango dropped her voice to a sweet whisper. "I'm not going to accept you dying on me, Miroku. And I'm not going to start to mourn you while you are still alive. We're going to find a way to stop this curse, so that we can do everything we ever wanted, and watch our kids grow up and… and so that you can die old and bald one day, decades from now."
Miroku stared at her with something close to awe. "Sango," he began softly, his voice warm and compassionate though his eyes were sad. "Don't you realize how selfish I am?" he questioned her. "I want you to bare a child, and raise it alone," Miroku said, taking a deep breath he looked away from her. Anywhere but at her. Now that Kagome was gone, the forest began darkening again. "Sango, there is a reason I've looked the way I have since Kouga's.
"Decades from now, I hope to be reborn as a better man," he confessed, trying to find the right way... He hated himself now. For he wanted to love her and worship her, build the house and bedroom he promised her. Not abandon her. "I.." Miroku couldn't bring himself to do it. His eyes looking more lapis lazuli now then sea blue, he turned them to look at her. Into her.
"In one of the previous battles since the other day, I've lost count which, but my hand was slashed," he said staring down at the accursed limb. "Across the hole. It's unstable. And there is no way to heal the slash..." He confessed, looking away from her shamefully. "It's borrowed time now," he explained, hating to tell her this, hating that this was happening now that they both found real happiness, and where it lay- In each other's arms.
"The others don't know. And I don't want them too. I am not loyal to Sesshomaru because he is a good man. But he is a strong demon, strong enough to fulfill my dream of banishing Naraku and destroying him. I understand if you hate me now, leaving you this way, and... Perhaps in a child baring condition. But I beg you not to tell them," Miroku said, his voice businesslike.
"You're not selfish," she comforted. "You're human. Why else do you think that everybody wants to have children? And I won't be alone. I'll still have Kagome and Inuyasha. And I'll have our child, just like I'll have you. You can continue to live through me, and through him. I won't tell them if you don't want me to, Miroku. But I don't hate you. I could never hate you…."
She glanced over her shoulder. How far away were they? She really hated to perpetuate the myth that all she and Miroku did was have sex, but…. "You came back to me, Miroku," she told him, thinking of the pirate ship. Sango gently pushed him into a tree, her brown eyes staring at him intently. "I'm the selfish one. I'm never going to let you go, not in life, or in death. Even if it means that we can't find a way, and we're separated, I'm never going to let go of you, and we'll find each other in the next life, until we finally get whatever it is that we seek, what we need."
Her fingers easily loosened his belt, but she never took her eyes off of him. Her fingers began to draw designs on his chest, and Sango tilted her face up to his, letting her lips brush his. Still, she stared at him, and she began to smile. "I'm never letting you go, Miroku."
Miroku stared at her dumbfounded. But however perplexed his mind was, his body knew exactly what it was feeling as she played him like a fiddle. Groaning, Miroku crushed her to him and buried his face in her hair. "I don't want to leave you," he whispered and roughly pulled her face up for a deep kiss. His tongue dove into her willing mouth, searching every known by heart inch of it. Lowering his mouth to her neck, Miroku brushed her hair aside. "I swear I won't leave you as long as you have this mark," he whispered and blew against her skin before allowing his mouth to descend and leave a mark there.
"I'll search for any possible way," Miroku whispered, his hands steadying their grasp over her trim waist. "I promised you a house, and a beautiful bedroom, with a lush bed," Miroku told her huskily, trying to control the reactions she was causing within him. "I want to live with you and share this life. As well as the next, but I don't wish to miss this one," Miroku said in a ragged voice. "I want to have children with you and watch them grow, not just have them and abandon them, and you," Miroku said and pulled her into a fierce hug, stopping her administrations to his self. "I'm going to follow through on the chance…" Miroku told her, now with sudden decisiveness.
"If he's dead, then the curse lifts," he said and watched her, just allowed his eyes to roam over her face, while his hands held hers at their sides, away from where they wanted to be judging from where he had pulled them off of his person. "You are my dream, do you realize that? My equal on every level, a true wife in the meaning a wife should be, a partner. I won't give up on that easily. On you. On us," Miroku said, his hands releasing her to pat her stomach and fondle their way downwards. "On us." He meant in the more plural sense of the word, and then with his usual roguish grin. "On this," he said smugly when his hands reached their destination.
Hope flared in her heart. Suddenly she began to want Naraku dead almost as much as he did. It wasn't fair that the bastard fucked with people's lives and hearts: not with Sesshomaru's throne, or Kagura's heart, or with Miroku's hand. The anger was forgotten, but the hope was not when he touched her. If anything, it made the hope grow.
She didn't recall ever having wanted to bear his children more than now. Every time he told her more about him, the more she loved him, and the more she wanted to share everything in life with him. Sango let out a soft moan. He was teasing her. That bastard; that loving, caring, sweet pirate bastard! Sango licked his chin playfully, and turned them around so that her back was pressed up against the tree, lending her support. Locking a leg around his hip, she moved against him, her eyes slowly rising to meet his. Her breath was quickly becoming as ragged as his was, enticed by the sounds and the sight she was to his eyes. "I love you, Miroku."
Miroku didn't need to say it back. His eyes said enough, now that he was actually looking at her again. Her whole body shook with her love for him, and he kissed her again, cutting off the quickly loudening sounds she was making. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she felt the first wave of love roll over her. She pulled his hand away, wanting to make it last longer. She wanted to prove to him that she loved all of him, and wanted to make him feel as good as she did when she woke up to see him.
Sango helped his hands pull at her pants, and she nipped at him playfully when his fingers pinched her behind tartly. She kissed him gently, slow and sensual in her kisses. Whereas his had been like a fire, hers was like a flowing river: graceful and unyielding at the same time. She let her love flow out through the kiss, and pulled back slowly with a gentle sigh, her back straightening when he pushed forward. Sex was an art, when it was with him.
Giving him a smile, she captured the hand that carried the beads. Staring up at Miroku, trying her best not to collapse against him or the tree and drown in pleasure, she toyed with his fingers, letting hers slip over and between his. Drawing his hand to her mouth, she kissed his fingertips. She folded his fingers into his palm until only one was left. Kissing the finger tip, she let it run across her lips, parting them enough so that she could bite down on it gently. Sango wet the skin with the tip of her tongue before blowing on it. She'd never felt quite so seductive before, or so foolish.
"We're not going to miss out on anything, Miroku. Not when we're together like this," she told him, sucking on his finger almost innocently, acting as if the grazing of her teeth over his skin was an accident. And still she did not take her eyes off of him, the brown orbs taking in every facial movement he made with such detail she'd never be able to forget them.
"You are a damn temptation, Sango,"