Forever an Illusion

Chapter 9: At My Fingertips

Sango spread herself over the sofa in relaxation. Miroku had left for the moment, offering to get the two their beverages. After consuming such a great amount of heavily salted popcorn, it was only natural that the couple had become anxiously thirsty. Sango closed her eyes, allowing herself to focus on the inside of her eyelids. A small sigh escaped her lips. She had been awfully forward with Miroku earlier. What had come over her?

The clock hung on the wall, reading 9:30. It was still quite early. Sango thought it had been later than that. Her senses seemed acute, as the softest ticking rhythm seemed to make her eyebrow twitch.

Sherbert was surely taking his time…

Tap, tap tap, went her fingers, drumming against the coffee table. Papers filled the surface, jumbled in all sorts of directions. They laid in stacks, horizontal, vertical, half hung over the edge, half over lapping each other. Each page was filled with the black tiny words that created a story.

Bored, Sango decided to put her mind on something else until Miroku's return. Carefully, she pushed the papers gently aside, careful not to rip the corners of its delicate material. Once partly sorted, this allowed the maiden to see the beautiful wood of mahogany. Finally, able to see some furniture!

The window just over the couch blew in a gentle night's breeze, blowing wisps of hair against the rosy flesh of Youkaitashi's cheeks. It danced across the table, blowing some of her work off of it, gliding slowly to the floor. Sango sighed again, this time frustrated. 'Now I have to do this all over again! Why does Miroku have all these papers anyway?'

Just as she was about to collect the sheets in her arms, wide brown eyes caught sight of something. It was something, emerald green, hidden under a newspaper that had not strayed far from its original place. She brushed it aside, discovering it was some kind of a literary work. …And it weighed a ton! Geesh! What was it, a dictionary?

'Wait a minute…this is the same book that I took out of the library with Kagome-chan! What's it doing here? I thought Miroku thought these things were disgusting?'

Sango flipped through the writing, watching the sentences become a blur.

'Page 456- About the author. Miroku Priest is a young inspiring writer of romance novels. He was born with a knack of writing so passionately, and is currently living in Japan's very own Tokyo…yada yada…gifted in Language Arts…first published at the age of…nineteen? This guy's younger than I thought!" Her eyelashes fluttered, 'Miroku? Is Miroku really that common of a name these days? Oh, that's silly…' "Miroku wouldn't…Miroku wouldn't be a…?'

"Wouldn't be a what?" He smiled happily, walking swiftly to her with the drinks. Panicked, Sango stuffed the novel back under the parchments.

"Oh, it's nothing." She smiled back.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Kera-chan! I can't hear a thing!" Mikomi scrummed, pressing her ear up against the door.

"We didn't miss anything! All they did was watch a movie with some guy named-"

"Erik!" Mikomi squealed happily, before giving Kera a light knock on the head, "and are you that dense? Anyone who ends up watching that movie, does one of three things: has the desire to kill, wants to become on opera singer or three: ends up falling into a state of romance and passion! They most likely have kissed by now."

"And you know this?" Kera replied, rubbing her now sore head.

"I've seen it 4 times; it's safe to say I know the after feeling-"

"Can we please get back to Sango and Miroku? Wait-" Confusion… "Since when do you have the desire to kill?"

"I have my reasons…" The young woman stated simply, turning her gaze to the door.

Kera scooted away a bit. "Well anyway, I hear laughing now! Good sign, Mikomi-sama, and it's only 9:45!"

Mikomi jumped up, her voice ringing through the hallway, causing Kera to become slightly nervous. "Nine forty-five?" She bit down on the nails. "I was supposed to meet him an hour ago!"

Her friend pressed a finger up against her lips. "Who's him?"

"Can't talk, must-go, tell me all that happens-bye!" And she flew to the staircase in a hurry.

"She…left me…" The oukami blinked, shocked.

………

"Sorry it took so long. I had to wait for the ice to melt. It seems Inuyasha left the freezer door open again, and the ice froze to the box…" Miroku took a seat, realizing he felt something hard in the cushions of leather. The student placed the glasses on the costars beneath him, and slid his hand through the creases of the couch. It was something solid, as he gripped the edges of it tightly, and pulled it up into his line of view. His breath caught in his throat. 'How could I have missed one? Did Sango see this?'

"Are you all right Miroku?" Sango's voice sounded concerned. "You look a little pale… She pouted. "You seem tensed."

Miroku looked at her with a grin. "I am not tense…" He flung the book across the floor, watching it slide across the planks of wood, halted by one of the book shelves. "I-er, well, just forgot the drinks-"

"The drinks are right here," she answered softly, almost cooing to him.

"Of course they are!" Miroku placed his hand to his neck, embarrassed, nervously moving it across his now white skin.

"Miroku, you're tense…" The woman shook her head at him as he only said,

"No."

Sango had never heard discourse so plainly. She suddenly poked his back and he twitched. He was tense.

"See?" Her voice took on that of a matter-of-factly tone. "I know when someone's tense. You should try to relax!" An idea then wondered into her mind, as she let a content smile spread across her face. "And I have a good idea how to!"

"And what can that be?" he asked, not really paying much attention, as Miroku stared mindlessly at the book, as if it were a demon burning its eyes into the very core of his soul. Oh kami, please don't have let Sango read that!

"A massage…" she laughed, taking his face in her hands and turning his head towards her.

"A…massage?"

"Yes! I guarantee you that it will not only help you relax, but you will probably even fall asleep! I used to give them to father all the time when I was younger! He was always busy helping me and Kohaku train for the Martial Arts.

He chuckled. "You can't be serious! A massage does not make you fall asleep!"

Her hands let go of his face. "Oh really," she said definitely, "are you willing to bet me on that?"

"Yes…"

"I'll make you sleep, Miroku! You just wait and see." Sango giggled triumphantly. She rolled up her sleeves and positioned herself behind Miroku has he straightened up his back for treatment. "Ready to relax and or sleep?"

"You try me, Sango!"

She smirked, started her massage to ease up his tight muscles. Sango placed her hands gently on his shoulders, rubbing them slowly and kindly, careful not to hurt him. She was stronger than she appeared.

"Not working." Miroku said in a singsong voice, playing with her.

"Only because you're wearing a shirt!" she huffed. She then had a brilliant vision, slipping the top of his deep purple clothing past his shoulder blades, down his arms, leaving his shoulders and upper back bare. She blushed at the sight. "There…there! That's much better!" And she resumed her massaging. Her fingertips rubbed in a circular motion, applying the perfect amount of pressure to loosening the man up.

Sango then felt Miroku's shoulders give in, and they fell limply. She heard a sigh escape his mouth. Oh, how wonderful it felt! Not to mention, it too made Miroku blush as he closed his eyes, leaning back so that his head lay on Sango's chest.

"You like it?" She asked with a gentle smile.

"It's heaven," he responded wearily without an attempt to open his eyes.

Sango proceeded with massaging the sides of his neck. Priest gave another sigh of satisfaction, and she smiled brightly to herself. "So, how'd you and Inuyasha meet?"

Silence.

'Miroku? …Miroku?" She glanced down at him, aware that he had fallen asleep. His chest fell up and down in a steady pace; his bangs falling lightly over his eyes. Miroku's face looked so peaceful, as if he were a sleeping angel. It was adorably charming.

Sango silently crept next to him, careful not to stir her date. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and whispered, "Good-night Miroku," wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace before falling asleep herself.

TBC