Every Time
Chapter 7: Love is Blind
Disclaimer: Blah blah blah no.
AN: I love you guys.
With each morning comes renewal, discovery, a light that is brighter than a million candles. Everything stains in pastel, rosey pink, light orange. Breaths of wind are refreshed, and all is still as the Earth comes brilliantly alive.
Sango had been a morning person all her life. She always woke with the sun, even if she'd been up all night training. Opening her eyes against darkness, she squinted, trying to focus. Soon, her vision cleared, and she looked around, noticing no one was up yet, save Kirara, who groomed herself by Sango's numbed feet. Kagome slept by the door, Inuyasha slouched beside her, though neither touched one another. Shippou was in Kagome's arms, snoring quietly. And Miroku lay as he had before, breathing quiet. Sango watched him for a bit, feeling her own cheeks flush as she did. Just being around him sometimes... the happiness he brought her. She elicited a dreary sigh, peering at him through the dark.
When she was near him... sometimes... feelings would come to life inside her. She hadn't felt these things before, not that she could remember clearly anyways. A liquid fire was sloshing around in her heart, warm, heating her from within the middle of her chest and spreading outwards. It strained her, her muscles pushing and pulling. The back of her throat became dry, and she constantly had to wet it over the ten minutes or so she lay there, wondering.
And it came again, a little differently, as she thought about him. She couldn't help but smile, and tilted her head back, as it began to trickle down her spine, erupting low in her abdomen. This scared her, and she adjusted herself, trying to bring herself into sleep. These inklings of pleasure...
"Would you say you love him?"
"I don't know."
"I don't know." Sango repeated to herself, rolling over. She looked at Miroku's back, turned to her, and felt the warmness inside of her grow. But battling it was her dreariness, pulling down her eyelids. The sun wasn't even up yet...
She could sleep... a little longer...
When she awoke again, Inuyasha was gone, and Kagome was gathering her clothing. She noticed Sango, who was yawning, while reaching for something, and smiled.
"Sango-chan, I'm going for a hotspring bath. Do you want to come?"
Sango nodded through heavy eyelids, and thrust her hand towards Kagome.
"Help me up, please?"
Kagome laughed, and took the taijiya's hand, nearly stepping on Shippou as she pulled. Sango made mental note that Miroku was still using her skirt as a surface on which to lie, and to get it back when the monk was up to better health. Meanwhile, they could enjoy bath-time without the threat of being spied on.
o
Sango winced, as she pulled Kagome's comb through her hair. The schoolgirl had managed to get some of the more minor tangles out the night before, but many still remained. She worked through the inky strands with her fingers, Kirara pacing around her. Inuyasha had returned briefly, to tell them they would head out in the afternoon, and then he left again. Breakfast had been taken care of, and Kagome was shoving her items back into her bag so they could head out.
The only difficult matter was Miroku.
"We can't expect him to be well enough to walk!" Kagome had pleaded Inuyasha angrily, "You said yourself, he was close to death!"
He'd ignored her, though, offering to carry the monk until they stopped again.
"I want to get out of this place," he had told them, "Naraku knows we're here, obviously. It's best to move on."
And Sango couldn't help but agree.
Kagome smushed her sleeping bag into the large tan-coloured bag she carried, taking her frustration out on it as opposed to Inuyasha. Sango's things were easy to pack, as she didn't own much. She had never had much, really. Sometimes, she fantasized about what things could've been, had she been born a princess. The type of person Kuranosuke's wife would be... sans Kuranosuke, of course. But no, that type of life wouldn't suit her. Too helpless, too boring. She sighed, watching Shippou entertain himself with Kirara's tail.
And then there was a muffled sound from beside her. Small, but it got her full attentions right away.
"Miroku!"
She covered her mouth with her hand to cover her surprise and concern, as she knelt over the monk, who had begun to toss and turn, groaning quietly. She reached the other hand out, trying to control its shaking, but she couldn't help herself. It was difficult...
Miroku's forehead was covered in a light layer of sweat, which was only natural, considering his state. He settled on his back, breathing slightly rushed, but he seemed to be coming around. Sango's fingertips lightly grazed his temple, and he calmed, sinking back as he exhaled.
"Sa... n..."
"Mi... Houshi-sama?"
His eyelids opened, just slightly, and he blinked twice, pupils darting anxiously. Sango's hand wandered down his face, brushing his cheek as her heart danced. The warmth returned inside of her, though it hurt, like a burn.
"Houshi-sama!" she exclaimed. Kagome gave up on her sleeping bag, hurrying over, accompanied by both Shippou and Kirara.
Miroku's hand reached into the air, and waved back and forth. He squinted forwards, though his eyes were glazed, and his eyes met nothing, as if looking into somewhere the girls couldn't see.
"Sango...?" he asked warily, "Are you there?"
Sango blinked, confused. Perhaps it was just that he was up to his old tricks. But something about it...
"Of course," she said, matter-of-fact-ly, "I'm right here, Houshi-sama."
"Right here..." he murmured, "Beside me?"
She nodded, lifting her hand from his cheek, a little embarassed. She brought it up to his left hand, still suspended in the air, and caught his wrist.
"I suggest you stop playing this little game, Houshi-sama, we have to leave. I know you're not well, but-"
"Sango?"
"... what?"
A dry laugh trickled out from between Miroku's lips. He blinked again, looking around.
"Sango... I don't see you."
"No," she said firmly to him, holding his wrist tightly, "Stop this, it isn't funny. At all!"
"Sango, I'm not-"
"Stop it!" she yelled, the warmth in her heart dying, and shriveling up into nothing. It was cold and barren there, and she missed the warmth desperately, but said nothing. Slowly, she let go of his wrist, and his hand hung in the air for a few moments, before returning to his side. Kagome glanced from one person to the other, confused.
"Sango-chan?"
"I'll... go get Inuyasha," Sango said, bowing her head so her bangs covered her eyes, "And tell him about what's happened."
She stood, abruptly and stiff, her hands crushed tightly into fists. The footsteps sounded, heavy and empty, and Miroku took these for signs she left, along with other, familiar sounds, the rustling of her yukata, and her breath. Sounds formed a picture in his head, but that picture was nothing, he knew, compared to what actually lay before him. It was there, it was real. He just couldn't see it.
He turned to Kagome, who held Shippou's paw in one hand.
"Kagome-sama?"
"I'm here."
He smiled wistfully 'at' her.
"This isn't a dream... right?"
She shook her head, then realized he probably wouldn't have knowledge of her actions, and responded verbally.
"No, Miroku-sama... I don't think it is."
o
It wasn't happening.
Sango paced back and forth along the outskirts of the town. Her heart throbbed, and tears burst from under her clenched eyelids.
Was nothing sacred? Was the world determiend to take everything from her?
He was alive, yes...
But surely enough, blind.
She grabbed tightly the material of her yukata, just above her left breast, and gritted her teeth.
"Damn you..." she muttered, to no one, and yet everyone.
It was her fault.
It was beautiful. Sometimes, she wanted to see just a glimpse of what Naraku thought. He was brilliant.
He was mad.
The taijiya turned sharply on her heel, ignoring the looks she was being given. Inuyasha said something about waiting for them... where was it? She'd have to wander around until she was able to find him. Or until he caught whiff of her tears.
Crudely, she brought her hand up to her eyes and rid herself of the brackish liquid, though quickly more came to take its place.
It just wasn't fair!
She didn't even have him to cry to...
She had planned on eventually growing closer to the monk. It was only natural, they were traveling comrades, and she did trust him... sometimes... He was close to her, there was no denying it. She hated when he hurt, and hated when he hurt for her.
It was all so beautiful.
"Damn..." she muttered again.
Truth was, she wanted to havehim to cry to.
o
Eventually, Sango came upon Inuyasha, who had taken upon standing on the roof of an old woman's house and watching over the village, like a watch dog. Though Sango didn't have the nerve to say such a thing to him, she almost smiled over the thought.
Almost.
Inuyasha had pursed his lips at her news, and nodded. But done nothing else. His personality demanded he complain about what a hindrance it would become, but the hanyou was not totally stupid. He met Sango's eyes, and didn't feel like having her moping around, nor taking out her depression on him. He knew how Kagome got sometimes, moody and whatnot.
Yeah, it was pretty scary.
He brought the schoolgirl out in the hall, suggesting they stay until Miroku had eaten breakfast, which was actually more of a brunch. She had nodded, not quite in the mood for cheeriness. No one was. That was easy to see. Kagome decided to go sight-seeing with Shippou, which wasn't really sight-seeing for the kitsune, as he had seen many villages, and there wasn't much variety, but Kagome enjyoed it, and he enjoyed spending time with Kagome. Inuyasha disappeared again, accompanied by Kirara, which left Sango, and Miroku. And brunch.
Kagome had left them with some breakfast bars and juice boxes, which was probably a good thing, as juice boxes had straws, and the breakfast bars were easy on stomachs. Miroku wasn't quite up to standing, but had managed to sit up, with Kagome's help, and wasn't showing any signs of extreme pain. But Sango didn't trust his appearance. Miroku was, after all, a very good liar. And she a very bad one.
She shut the door to the room, her eyes meeting his hazy ones. But his gazed right past her, darting over her general area.
"May I ask whom it is?" he said quietly, and she bit her lip to keep from snapping at him.
"It's Sango."
"Oh, good. I couldn't very well fight off an attacker, you know. Well, actually, I'll be used to this soon, so-"
"Used to this?"
"Well, I can still sense things, smell things, hear things. All I'm lacking is visual," he smiled mercilessly, "It's not too bad, you know! After all, I can still hear your lovely voice."
"I wish you'd stop it," the taijiya muttered, trying to get the wrapper off of the straw that came with the juice box. It was 'pineapple', with a picture of a very funny looking fruit on the front. Most of Kagome's fruit foods confused the others greatly, as they'd never seen pineapples before. And they certainly hadn't had the oppurtunity to have them in juice form.
Finally the wrapper came free, and Sango angrily punctured the petit seal at the top of the box with the straw, sighing.
"Juice."
Miroku looked up, trying even harder to keep a smile about his face. Sango mentally cursed Kagome for leaving her with brunch duty.
"My dear Sango, I think it should be delivered by mouth, don't you?"
"It came with a straw," Sango said bitterly.
"Ah. I see."
"Open your mouth, baka," Sango watched as he did so, looking 'at' her for approval. Grimacing, she brought the juice close to his mouth, letting the straw rest on his tongue. He lifted his tongue lightly, making sure of the straw's presence, before closing his mouth and sucking. Sango watched his movements, from as far away as she could be while still holding a juice box under his chin.
"Do you think you could hold it yourself?" she asked, and he stopped drinking, pushing the straw away with his tongue.
"Possibly."
"Huh."
"Are you alright?"
Sango stared at the juice box for a while, not knowing what to say. Of course, she could say 'yes' and that would be that. But somehow, she wasn't up to that. She didn't want to lie. She didn't want to say anything at all. So slowly, she willed her voice to work, as she began to lean forward, her arm begginning to tire of holding the juice.
"No." she choked out, letting her forehead rest on the monk's shoulder. He startled a second, wincing becuase of the pain that sprouted from the point, but ultimately ended up bringing his right hand up, searching the air for Sango. He found her back, her mass of long, sliky hair, and lightly rested his hand on her shoulder blade.
"I'll be fine," he whispered, pulling her a little closer to him. She tried desperately not to cry. But she wanted to. And he knew she wanted to, and was fully willing to give her that chance.
"No. No, you won't," she sobbed, more tears coming. They stained the material of his robe, some falling onto the green skirt that was caught under the monk still. And yet, he said nothing, listening to her stifled cries. And she had every right to cry.
"Surely it's not that bad," he mumbled, trying to see better of the situation.
"You need to stop lying," she responded, beginning to pull away. He let her go, but his hand traveled cautiously up her arm, eventually finding her neck, where it stopped. He felt her pulse, and smiled, though she couldn't understand how it was possible for him to be doing so.
"So do you."
She sniffed, removing his hand from her. "You should have some more food. Energy."
He nodded, and stared into the graphic black that he lived in.
During the next fifteen minutes of brunch, there was no sound. They talked naught of Sango's tears, or his predicament. Simply if she should break the bar into pieces then put the pieces in his mouth, or whether he could manage holding the bar and bringing it to his mouth himself. It turned out he wasn't yet able to master the latter of these feats, which left Sango breaking the bar, and pushing it through the softness of his lips, blushing all the while. And quite a few words could've passed, many of them Miroku wanted to say rather badly. But nothing was said. Which probably wasn't much for the better.
o
So close, and yet so far.
So very far...
Hands that cannot stretch across the distance.
Hands that try.
They try.
We are all trying.
Saving.
Some cannot be saved.
But some are not trying.
o
Blind.
He was blind.
Not blind, not totally, he'd told them. He could see, occasionally, if the lighting was very bright. Most times things were all black, but he could still see things, blurry and darkened shapes. But not nearly as well as he had before, or as well as he would've liked. Nonetheless, he'd ridden on Kirara's back all day, joined by Shippou who was making sure Miroku didn't accidentally get clothes-lined by a low-hanging branch. Sango walked along behind them, with Inuyasha taking lead, and Kagome shortly following him. The path they followed was winding, but clear for the most part. Miroku stayed on Kirara fairly well, though he almost fell off once. Inuyasha nearly screamed at everyone for everything, and Kagome was antsy. Sango was silent.
They were all just dealing with something they didn't know how to deal with. That was it.
It hung heavy in everyone's mind for the entire day. Since Kagome didn't have to return to her era for another few days, they decided to continue in their direction, at a slower pace, and with more precautions. Luckily, they met no enemies during the day, and were able to set up camp without much hassle. Shippou just had to be a little more helpful than usual, and everyone had to pretend they weren't lacking something. You could feel it in the atmosphere. No laughing, so slaps or screams. It was as if he really had died.
Such a peaceful day...
o
Sango glanced over the flames burning in the firepit, watching Miroku, who leaned against a large tree they'd settled near. The sun was setting, and orange rays illuminated the scene, tinging his skin and hair. For once, she could stare at him without worrying about him catching her. She didn't care about anyone else. They all saw, so what was the point?
He could feel a pair of eyes heavily upon him the whole evening. Kagome prepared dinner quietly, ignoring Inuyasha's bickering with Shippou. The two had found something trivial to distract them, and frankly, everyone was glad. It sounded normal.
So he figured it was Sango watching him, who was most likely with Kirara, and was confused by it. He'd felt something of the sort previous nights, but had never managed to catch her eye. He 'looked' around, trying to imagine the scene.
Of all of them, he seemed to be the least bothered by his condition.
Seemed.
Always seemed.
"Hey, Sango!" he called, hoping she would get his hint and come over. He smiled goofily, looking around, and finally heard footsteps approach, the scampers of Kirara, and the light tempo of Sango's sandals against the earth.
"Yes?" she asked softly, shyly, and he patted the ground next to him.
"Sit down?"
As she didn't answer him, he cleared his throat, and lifted his hands in the air.
"No groping. I promise!"
She settled next to him, however reluctantly, without so much as a sliver of amusement. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm in an adequate amount of pain."
This whole thing seemed almost humourous.
"What are you going to do?" Sango whispered, "Now that..."
"It'll be fine," he said again, frowning. He felt Kirara brush against his leg, and Kagome called Sango over to help with dinner.
And he forgot all about telling her that she was right.
End of Chapter 7