Author's Note: Well, seeing as I'm flying back to New York in three days, it doesn't look like I'll be finishing this story before break is over. Ah well – just have to keep plugging away. And if it's any consolation, it is almost finished. I would estimate another two or three chapters (that's including an epilogue chapter). Sort of depends on how long various things take and where I decide to put the breaks. I can't wait to be done with this one. The melodrama is just killing me – too much! Have to get back to something a bit more dynamic, a bit more "me." The voice of this story just doesn't sound genuine to me anymore. But what are you gonna do…
Someday I'll take yet another stab at the WWII story idea – this one's much better than the last one (an old "novel" I wrote years and years ago – it topped out at about 17 pages…), but I'm sure I could do better still if I started over and made some serious adjustments…
Missing in Action
Chapter 21: The Color of Roses
Meanwhile, in a completely different part of the complex, oblivious to the woes of the love torn Kagome and her wayward fiancé Hojo, World War III was taking root.
"What on earth could you possibly have been thinking?" Sango questioned in a sharply bemused tone of voice.
"I wasn't thinking, Sango – it was just a mistake," Miroku protested.
The woman snorted. "A mistake? Miroku, a mistake is when you leave the toilet seat up – this is…this is…I don't even know what this is!" she finished, throwing her hands up in frustration and pacing to the other end of the narrow gap between the storage shelves. The papers in her hand rustled in an angry echo of her temperament as she flipped to the next page and scanned the inventory numbers running down the left side of the list. E28.387HH – canteens. That would be shelf…16 – one row down.
"Come on Sango, it was a year ago," the man entreated as he followed her around the edge of the metal shelf and into the next row. "You and I weren't even together then. I swear to you, there is absolutely nothing going on between us."
"Nothing!" she snapped, whirling to face him, and thus startling him into knocking several boxes of machine gun ammo to the floor with his elbow. "You really don't get it, do you? You have no idea what this is all about." With a hollow laugh, she went back to throwing canteens – perhaps a bit more forcefully than really necessary – into the cardboard box at her feet.
Putting the last of the ammo back on the shelf, Miroku stood again, flinching with each bang of a canteen hitting the others in the box, knowing that they could just as easily be flung in his direction. "What? What don't I get?"
"This!" she exclaimed by way of explanation, flinging her arms out in indicate their conversation. "You don't understand why I'm angry, that's what. Look," she gave the box a shove with her foot, sliding it down the row a few feet before turning back to face him head on, "I've always known what kind of a guy you were, and the fact that it's taken me this long to come across one of your…"conquests" is practically a miracle – that's not the issue here."
"Then what is?" he pleaded, grabbing her firmly by the upper arms.
"The issue is," Sango replied, shrugging off his grip in annoyance, "that she's in love with you." With that she turned and went back to her list, snagging supplies off the shelf as she found them, leaving Miroku to frown in confusion.
"But I already told you," he said, stepping forward, "I don't feel anything for her – there's nothing between us."
"I know that – you're not listening to me," Sango replied exasperatedly, "I said that she is in love with you."
Miroku frowned a bit more. "So wait a minute, let me get this straight – you're mad at me…for her sake?"
"Yes! Why is that so hard for you to comprehend?"
"Well, I dunno – I guess I just figured that you'd be…jealous, or something," he replied sheepishly.
Sango snorted in amusement, turning back to him somewhat wryly. "Miroku, I know you – I know you're not in love with Koharu, and I believe you when you say you only slept with her that one time, before we were together. But how could you lead the poor girl on like that?" she finished sternly.
"I wasn't trying to," he protested, "It just sort of…happened. She got the wrong idea about us after that night, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that I didn't feel that way about her. I figured she'd find somebody else sooner or later, but she didn't. I even tried to break it off with her the night we left Asile—"
"Is that where you went?" Sango interrupted, hitting him on the shoulder. "How could you not tell me?"
"I didn't want to upset you," he justified. "I mean, we had a lot on our minds that night – did you really need to hear that I'd gone off to dump my teenaged groupie on the way out of town?"
"No, I s'pose not," she admitted reluctantly. "But you still should have told me the truth eventually."
"You're right, I should have. And in the future, I promise to inform you of any stubborn, clingy admirers who should happen to fall madly in love with me."
Sango rolled her eyes, but an amused smile found its way to her lips nonetheless. Miroku decided to go for broke and slip in a kiss – which, much to his relief, the woman accepted.
"So what happened," Sango asked when they broke apart.
"When?"
"When you tried to break it off with her," the woman elaborated. "Apparently it didn't take."
Miroku grinned. "No, not really. I tried to let her down easy, told her I had to leave town and that she should forget about me and get on with her life."
"Well that was stupid," Sango chided with a smile, going back to her previous activity of collecting supplies – though with decidedly less malice than before. She tore the last couple of pages from the list and handed them to Miroku, indicating that he should help her.
"Why was it stupid?" he retorted slightly defensively, peering at the list to try to figure out how the numbering system worked.
"Isn't it obvious? The bottom line is that the girl isn't really in love with you – she barely knows you. She's just caught up in the romantic fantasy of it all, which, to her, is the same as love. All you did was play Romeo to her Juliet – she'd drink poison to follow you."
"Hm," Miroku considered, the clink of boxes of rifle ammo accumulating in Sango's collection sounding behind him. "I never thought of that." He added a few packs of field rations to the pile himself.
"I'm going to grab another box," Sango informed him and turned to leave the row. "Oh – wait, those are the wrong ones," she stopped him from adding another handful of rations. "You want the ones with the little green stickers on the sides, see? Be right back."
By the time Miroku had finished fishing the incorrect rations out of the collection box and re-shelving them, Sango had returned with the other box, which they then began filling.
"So what do you suggest I do?" Miroku asked.
"About Koharu? Well, if you ask me, what you really need to do is be direct with her. Tell her the truth – that you're not in love with her, that you never have been, and that you're just a dirty old lech who was looking for a good fuck."
Miroku raised an eyebrow at her. "Sango?"
She flashed a grin back at him. "Or something to that effect. But most importantly, you have to make sure she knows that it was all your fault."
"My fault? But she's the one who—"
"Lured and innocent young girl into bed?" Sango finished sweetly.
"Alright, alright, I see your point," the man conceded.
"I thought you might. Besides, it's the least you can do. After all, she's the only one who stands to get hurt here – is it really so much to ask just to soften the blow a bit?"
A couple of hours later, once the pair of them had finished collecting the necessary supplies for the mission to stop Naraku, Miroku – his excuses for putting it off having run out – approached the door to Koharu's quarters and gave a reluctant knock.
"But most importantly, you have to make sure she knows it was all your fault…" Sango's words echoed in his head, and he gave a slight grimace. He'd always had more of a penchant for weaseling his way out of these sorts of situations rather than facing them. He was better with card tricks and vanishing acts, playing the part of the innocent bystander, not the blatant crook. Not that anyone really bought his innocent act, but it at least distracted them long enough for him to get the hell out of Dodge.
"Miroku!" the young girl squealed ecstatically, planting a fervent kiss upon his lips before dragging him inside and shutting the door. Flinging her arms around his neck, she said through an eager smile. "I'm so glad you managed to give that cranky old lady with the brown hair the slip for awhile. Honestly, she's so controlling and demanding – how on earth do you put up with her?"
She pulled back and placed another quick kiss upon his lips before even giving him a chance to respond, and then continued. "Well don't worry, I won't just stand by and let her bully you. It's time she realized that she has no hold on you, that you're already in a relationship. You know, I think she might be jealous."
"Ah – actually, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. You see…the thing is…"
"You've talked to her already, haven't you," Koharu interrupted brightly. "I was right – she is jealous! How did she take it when you told her about us?"
"Well – differently than I expected actually…" Miroku began, but he was soon cut off again.
"Oh you – you're so oblivious when it comes to women. I bet you had no idea she had a thing for you. Well, no wonder you were surprised when she flew off the han—"
"Koharu, please," Miroku interrupted somewhat impatiently. This had to stop – and in order to stop it, he needed to be able to get a word or two in edgewise. "I really need to talk to you, and I'd appreciate it if you would just listen for a moment."
The ecstasy drained slowly out of her expression, to be replaced with a naïve concern. "Alright – you sound so serious though. Is something the matter?"
Miroku was suddenly struck by how very young she actually was. Not merely in body, but in mind. Most of the people who had been young in this part of the world had grown up much too quickly in the past few years. People like Kagome, who wasn't really much older than the girl standing before him, but who had seen and done things she never could have imagined a short while ago. But somehow, this forced loss of innocence had managed to avoid Koharu. Even as terrible things happened upon her doorstep, even as armies swarmed her hometown, even as a sleazy spy smooth-talked her into giving up her virginity for a one-night-stand (or so he thought), she merely wove these occurrences into her own rose-colored perspective of what life was supposed to be.
But everybody had to grow up sometime.
"You'd better sit down," he said gravely.
She complied.
Miroku paced the room once or twice, choosing his approach, and Koharu followed him with her eyes, her gaze puzzled, her manner uncertain. Finally he began: "Look, I'm not really sure how to say this, but—I think you may have…gotten the wrong idea about our relationship. And it's not your fault," he added quickly, in a somewhat vain attempt to follow Sango's advice, "it's mine. I shouldn't have…led you on, the way I did. In fact, I shouldn't have even made a move on you in the first place. It wasn't right – it wasn't fair to you."
"I don't understand," Koharu replied, a bit of a nervous quiver in her voice. "If it's the difference in our ages, I've already told you that doesn't matter to me. And if you're worried that you're somehow putting me in danger, I don't care about that either. I love you."
"No, Koharu, it's not that." He knelt before her, taking her hands in his in what one might call a brotherly fashion. "That night, when I—when we were together, I wasn't looking for a relationship – I was looking for a warm body on a cold night. And I've regretted ever since that I deceived you into thinking otherwise."
That was when the shocked tears began to well in her eyes. "Then," she whispered, "you don't love me?"
Miroku grimaced at the hurt in her voice. "No…I don't. I'm in love with the cranky old lady with the brown hair…"
He watched her silently as she closed her eyes, tears spilling over. She sobbed quietly a couple of times, snagging quick breaths. Then, all of a sudden, he saw her expression tighten, and thought perhaps she was drawing on some inner strength she'd had yet to discover, that she would pull herself together and put on a mask of dignity.
But instead, she slapped him hard across the face. "You bastard!" she burst out furiously, standing abruptly and turning to glare at him where he sat, stunned on the floor, fingering his tender jaw. "How could you— Why would you—how could you do this to me? God, I feel like such a fool—and all this time, you were in love with someone else?" She released a growl of frustration, blinking angry tears from her lashes all the while.
"Look, I really—" Miroku began, getting to his feet, but she cut him off swiftly, her voice softer, but no less dangerous.
"No, don't – don't try to explain. God, I've seen this happen before, a million times…I just never thought it would be happening to me."
Koharu stared into the heavy silence of the room, and Miroku wondered for a moment if he ought to just give her some privacy – but before he could make a move toward the door, she spoke again, though her eyes remained unfocused.
"It's nothing like I expected it to be," she murmured. "Isn't this supposed to be the part where I realize I didn't really want you after all? That there's someone better waiting just out of sight?"
Miroku's brow furrowed slightly as he tried to figure out just what she was talking about.
"You know – like when Scarlett realizes that Ashley wasn't the one for her after all, or when Emma realizes that she doesn't care that Frank Churchill is engaged because she's been in love with Mr. Knightly all along anyway."
"Ah…sure," Miroku offered, although these names meant absolutely nothing to him whatsoever. He'd ask Sango later…
"But with me it's different," Koharu continued, meeting Miroku's gaze at last, "because you were my Rhett, my Mr. Knightly. And there's no one waiting around the corner for me."
Although he wasn't familiar with the references, the sentiment could not have been clearer – and Miroku could derive no response.
"I'll see you around, Miroku," Koharu murmured, turning and slipping out the door, leaving him alone in her quarters.
On the other side of the door, Koharu nearly collided with the poor infirm Hojo, who looked as though he had a few things on his mind himself. "Oh – sorry," she apologized quickly, though he barely acknowledged her, continuing on his way. She watched him disappear around the bend, her own problems set aside for the moment as she wondered what could possibly have him so distracted. After all, he'd been reunited with the woman he loved – what could be wrong?
He glanced down at their interlaced fingers, their hands resting on her knee, against the rose-printed fabric of her skirt. Lifting his arm slowly, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, as though such a simple gesture could possibly make this any easier. But he couldn't look her in the eye.
"You really have to go, don't you," Kagome murmured, her voice blank and laced with resignation.
"Yeah," Hojo replied, still not meeting her gaze. All he could see was that field of roses nestled in a background of soft white cotton. "It's the right thing to do – you know it is. And anyway, they say the war will be over before long. I'll be home before you know it, and we'll pick up right where we left off. I promise."
She compelled him to look at her with a hand against his cheek, and he reluctantly complied – but at the sight of her face, all at once he felt his heart grow lighter. It was easier to believe that what he said was true when he saw her sitting there before him. How could anything – in war or peace – ever keep them apart, when they were this close?
Her dark hair, curled slightly at the ends, was held back by twin rose-colored clips at the sides of her head, cascading down to rest gently upon her shoulders. Her dress was pristine and sleeveless, with a square collar and a fitted bodice that led to a wide, knee-length skirt. On her feet were white, patent-leather, open-toed sling-backs with modest, dainty heels. "I'll wait for you," she murmured.
This was how he remembered her. For three years she'd been wearing that rose-printed dress and waving goodbye to him outside the front door of the café. When he was lonesome for her, he tucked a strand of that soft, ebony hair behind her ear, and watched her smile for him. When he was afraid, he felt her fingers squeeze his hand in her gently reassuring manner. He knew every facet of her appearance so well, he could picture her in his sleep.
But try as he might, he couldn't for the life of him picture her with another man.
Granted, it didn't help that he had no idea what her Nazi officer "friend" or that Allied pilot looked like – but no matter what image he managed to conjure up, he just couldn't see his sweet, wonderful, gentle Kagome being…intimate with some stranger. It didn't sound like her – it didn't sound like the girl he'd known.
"I'm not the same person I was when you left…"
Seeing her as she was now, her hair arranged neatly and efficiently at the nape of her neck, her wardrobe consisting largely of spare army uniforms, and her countenance harder, more solid and weathered than before, he began to wonder if perhaps she was right. Maybe he had been expecting to come home and somehow find her and Asile exactly as they had been when he'd left, as though somehow impervious to the outside world. They had been, once.
He'd never seen her in slacks before now. He wondered if she even still had that rose-printed dress.
A soft knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts, and he raised himself up on one elbow on his cot. "Yes?"
"It's me," said Kagome, appearing around the edge of the door, closing it behind her. "I just thought I ought to tell you that I'm—I'm going on the mission."
"What?" he replied, aghast, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "You can't be serious, Kagome – it's out of the question."
"Hojo please," she said wearily, "don't start this now. There's really nothing you can do to stop me, and I've made my decision, so let's not argue, alright?"
"No, it's not alright. Kagome, you don't know what it's like out there. The battlefield is no place for a woman."
"Well, I happen to believe that it's no place for a man either – that the world would be better off without any battlefields altogether – but that's not really an option right now, is it? This is the situation we're presented with, and I have to do what I feel is right. I have to go."
"You really have to go, don't you," he heard her say, in the voice of her younger self. But this time he was the one being left behind – and without a promise of return.
He bowed his head, resigned, and then pushed himself off from the bed to stand, turning to face her. "I guess I already knew that. Just…be careful. I know from experience that these things don't always turn out quite the way you think they will."
She gave him a small smile and a nod. "I will."
He took a step toward her. "And please, don't forget that…I love you."
At that, she looked up, seeming to consider him for a moment. "Do you, though? Or do you just—remember loving me…"
To that, he could muster no reply. He barely noticed when she exited the room once more.
At dawn the following morning, thirty Resistance agents – including Kagome, Miroku, Sango (who had insisted on joining the detail the moment she learned that Kagome had been allowed to do so), and Tieresias, and led by Henri – left the bunker in the dim light and headed southeast.
At roughly the same time, a convoy carrying a regiment of paratroopers – led by Lieutenant Inuyasha Montague – took flight from a London air base, their destination on a similar heading.
Meanwhile, in supposed secrecy, an entire German battalion – led by General Naraku himself – migrated westward toward the decimated little hamlet of Ville du Pont.
A/N: So…yeah! That's all for now. I'm dead tired, and I have been through this chapter a couple of times, but I must admit that I simply did not have the energy to comb through it one final time, with all the changes in place. So if there are any remaining errors…oops! Sorry! Okay, goodnight now… (sooo tired…)