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Memoir of Sango…
You never believe you're worth someone loving you. After a certain point, you don't even believe love is real. Young people talk about it as if it's some kind of fairy tale lost to the imagination, old people talk about it as if it's just a companion to spend your last few days with, and everyone in-between is caught up in the chase or has grown tired of it.
There are some lessons that you'll never learn…
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Session Twenty-Nine- Fallen
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"Um… Sango?"
Sango jumped, nearly spilling her coffee as she did so. Her drowsiness was suddenly overwhelmed by the small adrenaline rush, and she realized she had almost fallen asleep sitting up.
"You ok?" Kagome asked.
"Did I drown in my coffee?"
"Um… no…"
"Then I'm fine." Sango sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, "I was just up late, I have to go back to the university next week for my final."
'Plus I had to deal a few less than polite patients…' she added in her mind, remembering sourly to an hour earlier. 'Honestly, isn't one supposed to be pleased when a doctor says there's nothing wrong with you?' And the woman had become more furious when she realized Sango had no diploma on the wall that said she was fully certified… yet.
Rubbing her temples, Sango shut her eyes, trying fruitless to stop the throbbing between them. As a last resort, she decided to draw her attention away from anything remotely related to medicine. "So… how are things with Inuyasha?"
She watched as Kagome unconsciously lit up at the mention of the name. "He's… definitely something different. We've gotten him enrolled back into high school. Unfortunately, they want him to wear the mandatory uniform and cut his hair, so obviously he's complaining about the whole thing. He's has more mood swings than a pregnant woman, I swear…"
Sango listened to her words in only mild interest, instead watching her friend's roller coaster of expressions as she talked about him. She liked him, it was apparent to anyone who listened to her go on, for Kagome was one to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and the sleeve was being tugged a certain "juvenile delinquent". Yet, whenever Sango brought out the topic of her actually dating him, however…
"Sango!" Kagome sputtered, her face turning several shades of red before regaining her composure, "I do not like him! Anyway, by law he's practically my brother now-"
"That document says that the Higurashi family has taken Inuyasha under their care, not adopted him," Sango replied smartly, "Even if you did, there's not a drop of blood between you two."
Trapped in a corner, Kagome decided to turn the tables back. "Really, and what about your love life? How has Miroku been doing?" Kagome asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously.
"Just fine, thank you Miss Kagome."
Kagome squeaked, turning behind her in her chair to the young man behind her. Sango looked mildly surprised herself- with the fact that he had showed up so unexpectedly during her lunch hour or that that was a cooking lodged halfway in his mouth- she wasn't entirely sure.
"Funny thing," Miroku began, removing the cookie from his mouth, "you give them your blood, your life force, and they give you cookies and fruit punch. Ironic."
Not finding a witty remark, Sango replied with a small, "Oh."
"O positive."
Blinking, she watched him with unfathomable curiosity. For someone who was only out for a blood donation, he seemed rather dressed up. His hair was combed and tied back, his large trench coat and guitar conspicuously absent from his person. Instead he donned a simple blouse and sweater vest, sleeves rolled up. One could never guess he had lived on the streets for two years.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a very loud: "Kagome!"
Kagome turned. "Inuyasha, you're supposed to be at the shrine!"
Inuyasha sat down next to her. "I can't spend another minute at that damned shrine! Your grandfather's fucking crazy!"
She glared at him. "My grandfather's not crazy, he's just… high strung. And would you mind watching your language. I've yet to hear you say anything without a swear attached to it!"
"Bite me."
"You jerk-"
"As much as I would love to watch you two bicker like an old married couple," Sango jumped in, "I have work to do, so if you'll excuse me." She got up from the table.
"You really should take a longer break than five minutes," Kagome looked at her worriedly, "You've been working yourself to death."
"I'll be fine, Kagome," the elder girl replied as she hurried away, "I've taken longer hours than this."
Miroku suddenly got up from the table, hurrying after with a lopsided grin on his face.
"So," Inuyasha leaned in close, "did she get him?"
"Who?"
"Naraku. Did she kill him?"
"Well, she didn't really kill him," Kagome replied, "He's still breathing. He's just brain-dead. Are you relieved?"
He shrugged. "I'm just upset it wasn't me."
Their conversation was interrupted by Sango's voice.
"Miroku, put me down!"
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Sango gave a loud squeak, no longer feeling the comfort of the ground underneath her feet. Instead of the door she was heading to, she saw the floor, and a pair of feet walking in the opposite direction she was previously… only not her own. Her stomach was resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her legs.
Also, there was the little fact that the front office could see them. Her co-workers would never let her live this down.
And her skirt was riding up. 'Great.'
"Miroku, put me down!"
"Not unless you promise to relax."
"I know self-defense. Don't think I won't use it," Sango replied, adding a edge to her voice.
He smiled, entering a vacant supply closet. Closing the door, he put her down. Glaring at him, Sango punched him roughly in the arm. "Is there any reason you brought me in a supply closet?"
His grin got wider.
"Now Miroku, remember I'm a lady."
"Really now?" Closing the distance between them, he backed her into a wall, smirking at the pink tint of her face.
And it was in that moment someone decided to walk in on them.
Sango was red to her roots, mouth opening and shutting, trying fruitlessly to find something to say. Although her mouth was speechless, her mind repeated 'Of all the people to find me like this' over and over in her mind.
Kohaku's eyes were wide. "Sango…"
"Yes, Kohaku?"
"One of my friends wanted me to sleepover at his house. Is that okay?"
"Alright."
Just before he closed the door, she could here mutter to himself, "I'm not coming back here anymore…"
Sango groaned, burying her face in her boyfriend's chest. "Miroku?"
"Yes?"
"You're such an ass."
"I know Sango, I know."
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"Sango…"
"Shut up. I'm still mad at you."
Miroku smirked from the other side of the bathroom door. "And just how long are you planning to stay at me?"
"You have about twenty more minutes," Sango replied, leaning against the door. Closing her eyes, she groaned. 'Well, that was one of my most awkward moments.'
Slipping into her nightclothes, she tried to shake off the memory. Brooding on such things only made one feel worse about it. But she was still slightly perturbed at him, his only reaction being laughing it off as if it were nothing. Didn't anything bother that man? He could probably smile at the face of death if he wanted to. Then she came to a conclusion.
He really, really annoyed her.
His constant smiles, his never-ending compassion, his perceptive way of thinking. He had nothing yet knew everything, every answer to every question she ever asked. A man with no money, no job, no house: not really the ideal man these days.
She could see her father's face now.
She closed her eyes again. "So…"
"So…" Her father would say, "he seems nice. But you're still too good for him."
She would chuckle. "Be sweet."
His large hands would rest on her shoulders, resting his chin on top of her head. She remembered him doing this many time in her lifetime, reminding her of how she always felt small compared to him, whether she was two or twenty. "Do you love him?"
She would smile. "Yes… I think I do."
Sango could see the laugh lines in his face as he gave her a soft squeeze. She felt a dull ache in her chest as she remembers her small fingers tracing each one as a child, and her not so little hands doing the same. "Does he feel the same?"
"Yes, he told me… in his own way," she replied softly, "it's almost funny, you never see yourself as the person worth falling in love with."
She would lean into his chest, breathing the scent of cinnamon and tobacco. She would always ask how a doctor could smoke. He would always give a chuckle and run his hands though her hair. "We never do."
"Nothing lasts forever."
A large hand would stroke her cheek. "Things only die if you let it."
Sango could feel tears sting her cheeks as she felt him there, and suddenly, she was sixteen again, her only worries being of midterms and making the track team.
It was only when she opened her eyes she realized she was still bordering twenty-one, still going through medical school, still a walking emotional roller coaster.
She slowly slid down the wall until she was sitting on the cold tile floor. Her eyes overflowed with her tears, and her body shuddered uncontrollably…
… and she laughed.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you…" she whispered, to whom, she wasn't sure. However, she knew this would be the last time she would shed a tear for a long time. Miroku would make sure of that.
There was a knock at the door. "Sango? Are you alright?"
'Miroku, you idiot.' Sango quickly wiped away her tears of joy and stood up. Opening the door she met his concerned indigo gaze.
She kissed him.
Well, it was more like a full-facial attack, but she didn't care. Her life had picked up a different tune, and she'd rather listen to his lyric more than anyone else's.
Sango withdrew, offering him a light smile. She could feel his heartbeat underneath her fingertips, quickened, but steady all the same. A heart that been given to him as a last gift from his father, she absentmindedly wondered how often Miroku reminisced about such things.
"Was that a kiss goodnight?" Miroku said, returning her smile. She blinked. Just how long had she been in that bathroom?
With the exception of the bathroom, the house was dark. Kohaku was out of the house, reminding her just alone they were. Her, Miroku… a shirtless Miroku…
'Dear gods I'm becoming a pervert.'
Despite her hesitance to it, she slowly became aware of her own sexuality- and, more importantly- his. Her breathing hitched, eyes locked on his own, finding that the feeling was very much mutual as he pulled her closer to him.
Abstinence could be such a bitch…
… that's why it went right out the window.
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All I can say is, if I've got to take a mature rating, I'll be damned if I don't use it to the fullest…
Two more chapters to go. I'm gonna miss this story, it's my personal favorite. I decided to lighten up this chapter a bit, this story needs some humor. And of course, you wanted M/S fluff, you got it.
Preview of Next Chapter:
She just wanted the car for a little extra freedom… now she just wanted it so she could run him over with it.
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Posted 7/24/05 by Lyn713