"I cannot protect you without holding a sword; I cannot hold you while holding a sword." – Bleach (Right Arm of the Giant)
Jasmine needs to vent her anger. I hope ya'll like it. Sorry for the character death: it can't be helped.
¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
My Blood Over Yours
Miroku knew that he'd do absolutely anything for Sango despite what many believed about him and his roguish ways. He loved her, plain and simple, even if she refused to see how much he truly cared and couldn't look beyond his "innocently" perverted antics. It hurt his heart every time she turned away from him, but he hoped that one day she'd understand his true feelings. That was Miroku, ever the cheerful optimist.
Love certainly does funny things to people.
And that was why when he saw the demon come up behind her, he couldn't just ignore it. Of course not! She was his Sango, after all: his demon slayer, the future bearer of his children, the only woman he actually took pleasure in groping! There was no way he would allow her blood to be spilled if he could do something about it.
"Sango, look out behind you!"
So he lunged forward, completely forgetting about his own safety in order to protect her.
The sound of metal-on-flesh tore into the stunned silence like a hot knife through butter, closely followed by a dull thud. A strangled gurgle, a scream of outrage, a moan of pain…
"MIROKU, NO!"
The Hiraikotsu deftly flew through the air and sliced the offending lizard demon in half, spraying its deep-blue blood all over the once-green grass. Its corpse toppled to the ground without another noise and Sango viciously kicked at it with contempt, scowling as the viscous fluid stained her boot. She shook her head in disgust, skillfully caught her Hiraikotsu as it came barreling back to her, and ran over to the fallen form of her comrade, horribly worried in spite of herself.
She kneeled down beside the seemingly-unconscious monk and gently shook his shoulder. "M-Miroku?" Her hand came away bloody, but she determinedly swallowed down her fear. Where were Kagome and Inuyasha when you really needed them? "Miroku, say something! Say something, anything!"
Her response was a muffled, pained groan. Sango hurriedly turned the man over and sighed in relief at the bleary, half-open amethyst eyes. "…Sango…?" His voice was thick with agony; he couldn't catch his breath. She watched him grimace and clutch at his side, groaning as his hand came in contact with the deep, nasty wound caused by the demon's claws.
"I'm here, Miroku! J-just sit tight and I'll get help for you," her voice shook; she was terrified at the amount of blood staining his purple robes.
The monk managed to smile through his pain, his world rapidly going black around the edges. "Anything…you say, my dear…" The violet eyes began to close, blood loss rapidly taking effect upon the fallen man.
Sango gasped and fear spiked through her heart; if she allowed him to drift off, he might never wake up again! "Don't fall asleep, you idiot! Miroku! MIROKU!" She placed her hands upon both of his arms and fiercely shook him, stubbornly refusing him a swift decent into darkness. She couldn't lose Miroku like this! Not now, not after all they'd been through together!
He whimpered at her actions. "But Sango, I'm so…tired…just five more minutes…and then we can do it again…"
The demon-slayer blinked. What was he going on about now? Her face immediately turned tomato-red as the implications hit her full-force. A pervert to the grave, she should have known! "Miroku, wake up you stupid monk!"
Amethyst orbs wearily blinked open and fixed her with a dull stare. "…Ah…such a nice…dream, too…" A tiny smirk appeared at the edges of his lips and a laugh escaped him, quickly forming into a wet cough that wouldn't stop. Blood lazily dripped free from his mouth and created a beautiful crimson trail along his chin. He absently licked most of it away and grinned up at her, questioning in a hoarse voice, "Worried, Sango?"
Words wouldn't come; she was unable to tell him everything she desperately needed to. Mutely, she reached over and wiped the blood from his lips in a gentle caress, then ran her other hand through the sweaty hair at his forehead, tears forming in her doe eyes at the thought that Miroku—her Miroku—might just die. A lone, salty droplet sparkled once and fell down her cheek, and she could only nod an answer.
Miroku's grin abruptly disappeared as he suddenly gasped for air, agony shooting through his body at every attempt. He couldn't breathe: the scarlet liquid was clogging his throat. He turned his face to the side and tried to spit it out, not relishing the idea of drowning in his own blood. Small, lithe hands tenderly lifted the back of his head and placed it down upon a warm lap. Breathing easier, the monk snuggled into Sango's legs and allowed a minuscule, self-satisfied smile. "I've always…wanted to be in…this sort of position with you, Sango."
Ignoring her urge to hit him, she spoke past the lump in her throat, "Sh-shut up, you hentai," both heard the absence of her normal emotion. "Listen, Miroku…I-I'm going to go find Kagome and get you help. Just stay here and—"
"Don't."
She stared incredulously. "Don't?"
A sigh, and then, "There's nothing…Kagome can do, Sango."
"You don't know that!" she argued vehemently, biting back a sob. "You can't die, Miroku! I w-won't let you!"
The monk shut his eyes against the sheer passion of her words. "…I've already…lost too much blood…" He could feel himself floating away from reality, losing everything that made him, him. The lightheadedness didn't help any, either.
Sango's hand resumed stroking his raven locks of its own accord. She didn't even seem to notice that she was doing it. "Don't leave me! You can't! Please Miroku, fight it!" Her tears were falling in a steady stream now; the demon-slayer had long since given up beating them away.
He wanted to, he really did. In fact, he was fighting it with everything he had, but he knew that he was steadily losing the battle. The wound that had been inflicted upon him was too large, too serious to be doctored. His only regret was that he hadn't told Sango his true feelings yet, hadn't let her know…how much…
How much he loved her.
"It should have been me, Miroku! Wh-why'd you do it? Why the hell did you have to take it for me, dammit?"
Trying vainly to blink away the cloudy haze before his eyes, he mumbled, "…My blood…over yours."
His beloved's eyebrow rose in confusion. "Wh-what?"
The monk smiled peacefully: finally, everything could be revealed! Finally he could tell her! "My blood over…yours, Sango. If I…could go back to…that moment, I'd…I'd do the exact same…thing."
Sango shook her head wildly, almost hysterically, before she forced herself to calm down. "Y-you must…save your strength, Miroku. Stop…s-stop talking. You'll get better, j-just watch! I won't let you die. You can't die, because…b-because…" She wanted to tell him. Kami, she wanted to. If she didn't tell him now, she might never get another chance to. That was something she just couldn't accept.
Miroku silently urged her to continue with every fiber of his being, needing to hear the words from her lips. He had been waiting so very, very long for them. "…I love you, Sango."
A short pause, and then, "I-I love you too, Miroku!" Sobs tore free from Sango's throat and she bent over the monk, holding him close to her as her body shook and trembled. She loved him and the selfish bastard was leaving her! It just…it just wasn't fair!
"Sango," he breathed into her ear some time later, life nearly spent. "My Windtunnel…is it…still there…?"
She hiccoughed, pulled away, and dutifully lifted his right hand into her lap. "Let me…let me check," he was going to die no matter what she did to help; that sickening realization was nearly her undoing. If she got sucked up into his Windtunnel, well…surely that wouldn't be so bad? Even so, she visibly winced after unwrapping the prayer beads and dropping them to the ground, expecting a rush of wind that never came. "M-Miroku, it…it's disappeared!" The surprise in her voice was audible.
Miroku heaved a heavy sigh of awe. "…Gone, it's…completely gone…good…"
The demon-slayer leaned forward and softly kissed the center of his unmarred palm, knowing that their time was short. "I'm going to m-miss you, Miroku. Meet up w-with me, okay? I won't forgive you i-if you don't."
The man merely closed his tired, violet eyes and smiled tenderly. "…Of course, dearest…just don't feel guilty…remember, my…blood over…yours…" The last few words were nearly incoherent, but she caught them nonetheless.
Sango gently stroked Miroku's forehead and ignored the crystal drops that fell upon his face. "Goodbye, Miroku. I love you. I'll find you again, you…you stupid monk…"
After all, she wasn't going to let him get away that easily.
¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
Aww, poor Miroku. Oh well. Jazzy needed to write this. It's too bad I had ta' take it out on him. At least it improved my mood.
Drop me a review and improve my mood even more. I would greatly appreciate it. (And love you)
"People only have hope…because they cannot see Death standing behind them."