Every Time
Chapter 8: Stay Near
Disclaimer: Same as last time, folks.He had dreamt it was snowing. Beautiful flakes of pure white came down from the deep grey skies, covering the entire land. What was not covered by the intense ivory blanket was dead, or dying. He saw no animals, no birds, no sign of humans at all. The atmosphere became eeriely still, and not even a wind swept through, encompassing the world in a deathly silence. So beautiful; the sight, the sound, so albascent, untainted and blinding. The snow under his feet crackled as he turned, suddenly aware of just how numb his fingers, toes and face were, the air so thin it was difficult to breathe.
His eyes captured her standing there, as if a figment of his own imaginations. A cloak was wrapped about her, and a thin layer of snow rested on her shoulders and the top of her head, clinging to the long strands. He stared at her, while she looked emptily towards him.
All she did was smile, so sad and pained. Her arms were crossed over her front, each hand clutching the oppiosite ahoulder, and she was shaking, though it was just barely noticeable. He took a step towards her, the snow creaking underneath his weight, like ice ready to crack. Imprints were left, tainting the holy looking ground.
It lasted but a minute. He made his way towards her, but she still didn't move, as if paralyzed by the snapping cold, or the overwhelming sadness evident in her eyes. He remembered blood, sharp colour upon the canvas of snowflakes, though whose and how it came to be there, he couldn't recollect. But the sight of it caused his heart to shake. And abrutply it ended and he awoke, blinking and stretching, looking around and trying to…
'Oh, right…' he lay back down, relaxing, heartbeat slowing, but sinking deeper into the cavity that was his chest.
Her voice reached his ears, bittersweet. "Houshi-sama? Are you awake?"
Miroku let the smell of whatever was being cooked for breakfast seep into him. Pain raked though his entire body, reminders that his injuries had not yet healed sompletely. Her face returned to him, so pale, lips chapped and bloody, moving as if struggling to tell him something.
He would not lie; it was often he dreamed of her.
"Yes…" he responded, "Sango."
o
While the taijiya prepared a breakfast of eggs (cracked open on a slab of rock balanced over the fire pit) Kagome rebandaged and applied ointment to Miroky's wounds, making cheerful conversation as she did so. Shippou was still asleep, and Inuyasha was sparring lightly with Kirara in a clearing nearby for morning excresize. A normal morning….Even Sango's new job of feeding Miroku wasn't too irregular, as she'd served him lunch and dinner the day previous. On a few of these occasions he'd groped her, but once he'd missed, getting her leg by mistake.
It didn't feel right to her, slapping him when he was still injured, and perhaps just trying to prove to her things were alright. But for the sake of her sanity, she did anyways.
Ah, sanity. How she missed it.
After scarfing down her own meal, Sango made her way over to the monk, cautious out of habit. Same as before, he looked up to the sound of her footsteps with an eager grin, and she sighed heavily. This time, however, she skipped asking him how he was. She knew the answer, same as always, and had no reason to hear the lie another time.
"Breakfast," she said wearily.
He nodded. "I suppose I'll have your gentle hands to feed me once again?"
"Yeah. You will." Sango knelt beside him, picking up a piece of egg (sunny-side up, his favourite, of course) and tapped his shoulder lightly. He opened his mouth, chewed, swallowed and had a sip of water, and then the cycle would repeat, lasting about five quiet minutes. His hands stayed motionless, her eyes keeping a careful watch of them. So close to him…she found herself nearly blushing, and could almost feel disappointment when he finished, and she pulled away.
"Oh, Sango!" he called after her, pleased when her footsteps halted. "Thank you," he continued, "And, um, could I have a talk with you later? Perhaps after lunch?"
He heard the throw-away dishes Kagome had brought make scuffling noises in her shifting hands as she exhaled, the air smooth over her lips.
"Alright. And your welcome. I mean, it's the least I can do…"
It seemed nearly awkward, though surely it couldn't have been. After all, it wasn't as if they were in love or anything.
…ever notice how people love to lie to themselves?
o
"It's beautiful!" Kagome exclaimed, spinning around while throwing her hands up into the air. The rest of the group had to agree, it most certaintly was. The valley was a healthy shade of green, and the lake shimmered where bright rays of sunlight hit the surface. Yes, it did seem like a very wonderful day, just like yesterday.
Miroku winced, and Kagome quickly apologoized, everyone avoiding eye contact.
"It's nothing," the monk insisted. Guilt still nagging at her, Kagome felt it was best not to press the issue, instead turning to the hanyou to her right.
"Please can we stop for lunch here? Please please please please-"
"Alright! Just shut up!"
"Oh, thank you!" Kagome's face lit up, and began skipping off, singing her own randition of The Hills Are Alive, which wasn't exactly pleasant on the ears. Shippou scampered off after her, while Inuyasha simply 'keh'ed and helped Miroku off Kirara.
"Your girlfriend sure is energetic," the monk commented, to which Inuyasha dropped him and stalked off, muttering angrily. Kirara made a noise that sounded like the cat equivalent of laughter, and Miroku couldn't help but join in. True, he couldn't exactly veiw the scene, but he still knew it was lovely, and not just from Kagome's outburst (she'd currently moved on to Oh, What a Beautiful Morning, ignoring Inuyasha's point of it being afternoon). The smell of the air, the wind against his skin, electrifying. It was almost frightening, how much more alive things seemed, now that he couldn't take it's sight for granted.
Meanwhile, Kirara returned to her smaller form, and nuzzled Sango's ankle wearily. Her mistress scratched her behind the ear, telling her softly, "You can go have a nap now. I know you're tired." The cat wandered off, seeking the cool shadow of a tree to sit beneath.
The monk's laughter was cut off by the misery of his wounds, and he waited a few moments for it to die down, before sticking his hand up int the air, trusting Sango hadn't just left him there.
"Help me out?" he asked, and heard her sigh, close to exasperated. Then her hand, her warmth was in his, as she pulled him upright. He had just a little trouble getting his footing, stumbling slightly towards her.
"Are you okay to walk?" she mumbled, and he nodded.
"Walking should be fine, as long as it's not too strenuous."
Her voice softened even more as nervously, she spoke again. "Would this be a good time…for us to have that talk?"
"I suppose," Miroku said. There was a long pause, during which Sango felt herself begin to sweat.
"Houshi-sama, why are you still holding my hand?"
"I can't very well walk on my own, now can I?" he 'looked' around, "I'll probably end up killing myself."
"Oh."
On edge, Sango, led him along the path beaten into the ground, used for transportation between villages. They'd come across one earlier, but had found nothing of interest. There had been a large number of attractive young women there, but Sango had said nothing of it. A thought struck her, causing her to slow her pace.
Miroku wouldn't very well be able to find someone to bear his children anymore, now would he?
And the taijiya wasn't exactly sure how she felt about that…
"Sango?"
"Y-yes?" She slowed further, fingers still wrapped lightly around the monk's hand, no doubt the cause of the blush on her cheeks.
"There's a lake around here, isn't there?"
She turned sharply, wrenching her hand from his grasp.
"Houshi-sama?" she asked, in a tone practically dripping with accusation, "Have you been lying to us?"
To me…?
"Just testing my senses," he told her, "I can smell the water on the air."
"I don't believe you."
"I am a monk, Sango," he stretched his arms out in front of him as he spoke, as if attempting to catch her. "I've been toning my abilites since I was a child. I know you did the same thing, which is how you've gotten so strong!"
"Yes…" Sango made an expression that lay between a scowl and a pout, still disatisfied. Such a con the monk was. If she found out the he really was faking his blindness, just as a joke, or to get closer to her, she…
To get closer to her?
It could've been a ploy of sorts to seduce her (or something) but that didn't seem at all to be his intent. Maybe he was just playing his part very well, the master behind an elaborate scheme. Was she nothing but a butterfly, so easily caught in his web? The thoughts dispersed themselves with the shaking of her head -she knew she was getting carried away. A little while longer she watched him, as he continued to reach out into empty air in search of her, till finally he stopped, seemingly upset.
"I don't know what game you've decided to play here," he said in mock annoyment, "But I'd appreciate if you'd tell me, so I'm not left in the dark here."
Just to make sure, Sango stepped towards him, eyeing him suspiciously. He looked in the direction of the sound, yet his gaze still looked far-off, glazed over and dull; as if swallowed by smoke. Then, quick and noiselessly, she pulled back her arm, and swung it towards him, the wing coming to a halt just millimetres from his face. And he did not flinch, nor blink, showing that, for once, his words had been genuine truth.
However, the smile on Miroku's face only windened marginally, as he raised his own hand to where hers hovered, clumsily catching hold of it. Her presence was strong next to him, her scent an undertone to the melange of odours that flavoured the air.
"Ah," he said, "There you are."
Together their arms lowered, neither pulling away.
"Could you take me to the lake?" the monk asked, "We can talk there, if that's alright with you."
"O-of course." Promptly, she shut her lips, and concentrated on leading him safely to the lakeshore. It would only be for a short time, she assured herself, as Kagome would soon be done preparing lunch, and Inuyasha would drag them over so they could get going as soon as possible. It was funny, how sometimes she'd wanted someone, often him in particular, tp talk to, and now that she had the chance, she could barely look at him. Strangely enough, at the same ime she felt she could do nothing wrong. He let her feel like Sango, just Sango; nothing more, nothing less, in a frame of time preserved.
She settled, lying on the embankment, and look over to him where he sat beside her.
"What was it you wanted to speak to me of?" she blurted out, unsure of any other way to ask.
"Whatever you want," he replied, causing her confusion.
"But wha-"
"Just talk, Sango. And I'll listen."
o
A pale finger traced the outline of the mirror, expression doubtful and unpleased. A boy knelt beside the pale girl and her mirror, as their master pondered these new developements.
"Kohaku."
"Hai, Naraku-sama?"
The master signalled for the images in the mirror to fade, and the girl holding it complied, leaving the two alone in the unlit room.
"You did not kill her, Kahku, nor him."
The boy winced, expecting punishment - but it did not come. Instead, his master's hand was placed upon his head, not in an unfriendly manner.
"No, this is much better," the master whispered, "Did you see them, Kohaku?"
"Hai, Naraku-sama."
"Did you see the pain they were in, Kohaku?"
"Hai, Naraku-sama."
His master smirked. "Good job, Kohaku."
He ruffled Kohaku's hair, cold fingers like a giant spider clinging to his scalp, and Kohaku resisted the urge to both shudder and weep. There was a flicker of a girl touching his hair, her laughter echoing inside of his head, till it faded into silence, and he became unsure it was ever there in the first place.
o
"Was it selfish of me, Houshi-sama?"
Sango had spent a while thinking, lying on her stomach with her head resting on her crossed arms, while Miroku waited patiently beside her.
"What do you mean?" he asked faintly, and she rolled over onto her back.
"When I was going to kill Kohaku…and then myself," she answered, "Was that selfish?"
"Of course not."
"But I was just taking all you guys had given me, and throwing it away! Without even a scond thought! Without even telling you!" She balled her hands into fists, nails biting at the dirt as they swept by.
"You love your brother, right Sango?"
"Yes."
"And you wanted to help him…to end thing, in the way they should've ended. I don't think that is selflish."The look on his face was thoughtful. yet sorrowful, "I doubt I would have survived…let alone be able to see straight, like you."
"Houshi-sama, stop. It's not true."
He shook his head, not in the mood to argue with her. "Tell me something else, please."
"I'm sorry."
"Not that," he said sharply, "Tell me something else."
She stared at the wispy clouds in the air, so very high above them, unable to think of anything, anything at all. Miroku remained mute, waiting, so close and yet the distance between them had never seemed so far.
"I'm glad it's almost summer," Sango's voice came, shaking as if on the verge of tears, "Kohaku loved summer. In the winter, he always got sick…. He was always so fragile. Father was concerned that maybe he wouldn't make a good taijiya, but Kohaku just tried harder to prove that wrong…." She stopped a moment, to recompose herself. "Should I talk about something else?"
Miroku shook his head. "No, do whatever you want…. It was stupid of me to ask such things of you. I didn't really want to hear the truth….I 'm like that, I dodge it. You were right, Sango, I'm lying to myself. It's become a habit over the years. I started to distract myself, from what would eventually become of me, but it just got worse and worse…. And now it's hard not to."
He reached up to his neck, fingering a light scrape. "It is nice to keep hope, but I should realize, really, what chance do we have? Maybe…maybe I should just enjoy what's left while I still have the chance." he half-smiled, "Not that that much of that chance still exists."
Sango sat up, leaning over hesitantly to him. Her hand reachd out, lightly making contact to his, to make sure he knew he wasn't just talking to nothing.
"Don't say that," she said feircely, almosy surprising herself, "Look how far we've come! I promised myself, I will save Kohaku! I don;t intend to break my promise, Houshi-sama!"
The words bubbled up inside of him, pushing against him, painfully, trying to get out. But the monk of a silver tongue was able to surpress them, though he had become paralyzed. He could embrace her…he could pull away…. He didn't, though, he simply stayed in his place, trying to draw a definite line.
'You make this so difficult, Sango…' he thought fondly, 'The more you show me of yourself…the more there is to love…'
And for her sake, he found his voice.
"Of course, Sango. You are right, as always. I apologize for what was said…"
Her heart wept at his vacant words. He barely sounded like himself, or at least the version of himself she thought she had come to know. But everything she knew had started to fall to pieces around her…. Miroku wanted so badly just to rebuild her world, to put her shattered heart back together. He wondered what she would do if he were to run his hands though her hair, and have her lips kiss him again. But he couldn't risk breaking her further.
'You fight for your brother, Sango…And I'll be the one to fight for you.'
o
Sadness rapes the heart.
Upon a black frame of glass,
Careful, so careful not to shatter it.
All we have to hold onto
Is slipping away…
o
"Please, don't let go," the monk whispered, feeling Sango's contact lessen, "I like knowing that you are here."
"But isn't this the part where you ruin it , and grope me?" he voice sounded jokingly.
"Not this time," he cocked an eyebrow, "But if you're so eager…"
"Don't you dare," she warned, and they shared a small laugh. Even after it died into the wind, the amtophere seemed thinner, and they were able to move more freely.
"You know…" she mumbled, "I was really scared."
"When?" he turned his hand, so he could hold hers properly, causing a blush to rise on her sculpted cheeks.
"When you…weren't…well." She couldn't bring herself to say 'When you were dying', the bluntness of it was too much.
He didn't know what to say to this. He knew what he wanted to say, but actually saying it was another matter entirely.
"W-we should be getting back," the taijiya stuttered.
"Indeed we should," Miroku stood carefully, then looked down to where he gussed Sango to be from where their flesh met. "Sango?"
She stared at their hands, locked together and her face fell. It was but nothing, she was playing guide-dog. That was all. It wasn't like…like that.
No, of course not.
"Are you stalling?" the monk asked humourously, "But Sango, you get to feed me lunch. Think of the romance! How can you not look forward to that?"
She pushed herself to her feet, staggering a lottle, but careful not to put to much strain on the monk. He was, after all, still injured, like it or not.
'Romance…' she pondered the word.
'Surely there is no chance of that…'
o
After a lunch that went according to their standards of normality the group set off agan. Briefly, Sango looked to Miroku, but instead called over Kirara for him to ride on. Better not to have him walk to much, due to his wounds.
Ah yes, those beautiful excuses.
They began on the quickest path back to Kaede's village, so Kagome could go back home, much to Inuyasha's annoyment. But it was best for all of them. Miroku could rest, and regain strength, as could everyon else. Besides, Kagome couldn't sense any shikon no kakera, and Naraku's presence couldn't be detected either, as if he were waiting a while until he next chose to rear his ugly head. Perhaps ugly wasn't the word, no, creepy would be more like it. It is kind of hard to take your arch-nemesis seriously when he's wearing what looks like drag-queen make-up.
The group had been attacked twice after they set out that day, but the battles weren't difficult, not compared to what they'd been through previously. The first was a pitiful youkai, quickly taken care of by Inuyasha. The second was a group of fairly large reptilian demons, slain by Sango and Inuyasha, with a little help from Kagome's arrows. Miroku had managed to haul himself off of Kirara so she could go fight. Shippou joined the monk, using foxfire to make sure nothing got through to him. Miroku could sense them, smell them, hear their crashes and hissing noises, but he couldn't tell their percise positions, and his best weapon was thus rendered useless. If he were to use the kazaana, one of his comrades could easily be sucked in, along with, or even in place of an enemy. And if that were to happen, he would never be able to forgive himself.
They still had a day or so of walking before they reached the well, even with their quick pace, so they decided to set up camp where they were as night began, in a cave on a rocky plain. Sango dumped the job of giving Miroku dinner onto Inuyasha and left, without even bothering to think up a reasonable excuse. But the hanyou let her go without much dispute, knowing she needed some space to breathe, to cool off.
None of the, could become too close; it opened oppurtunty for weakness. But if they were too far apart, they would not have much hope for survival at all.
And so they struggled to draw the line.
o
Run! her mind told her, and so she did, her thoughts weighing heavily, so heavily upon her. At first, she had just been walking calmly,. just trying to work out the things in her head. But there were so many, trapped inside of her, that she could barely hold herself up.
Run! Just run!
She let her legs carry her around the entire rock valley, and then they were satisfied, her muscles sore and her stomach sick. The world had became shaded in blue, none of the sun's light still clinging to the horizon like spilled paint. She wasn't surprised when she found no one awak when she returned, besides Inuyasha, of course, whom she had doubted would be alseep anyways. It was the night when the moon disappeared completely from the skies, turning him human, just like she was.
"Got everything sorted out?" he asked gruffly, as she wandered over to where someone had set up her blanket and pillow, away from the fire, how she always slept.
"I guess," she responded, yawning loudly. The fire popped, growing dimmer, and inuyasha took this as a signal to throw on another piece of wood, as spring nights were rather chilly, no matter how pleasant the day seemed.
"Hey…"
She looked over to the hanyou, whose eyes were alit with fireglow, grey flecked with gold.
"Don't…" he narrowed his gaze, "Don't let the two of you end up like me and Kikyou."
"But it's not like-"
"I don't care what the Hell it's like and not like," he cast his glare upon her, "Just don't. That's all I'm sayin'."
She nodded solemnly, as she pulld the blanket up to her shoulders. "Goodnight, Inuyasha."
"Keh." he tossed another piece of kindling onto the place.
"Fools."
o
It was the strangest thing, really.
When he wanted to, he could extract pictures from memory, vivid and overflowing. His dreams were fluid and haunting, as usual, but was all just in his head. The material world, what was real, had been cut off. He tried to picture what was happening, but he knew he was wrong, though he'd never be able to confirm it. Life was so intricate, minute details creating and maintaning that which is life.
And a head full of memories was all he had.
He didn't have his family's revenge.
He didn't have an heir.
And he didn't have Sango, as the days continued to wear him thin.
How much longer could he keep it up?
How long before something slipped?
Roused from sleep, the smell of morning - breakfast and fresh air - he pulled back the sheet, feeling hints of sunlight hit his face.
"Get up, bouzu!" the hanyou's voice came, "You don't get sleep-in priveledges!"
Placing one hand firmly onto a large rock for support, Miroku carefully stood, wincing a little. His head pounded, and he swayed, trying to gain proper control of his body, nearly screaming when the coldness of a hand came upon his shoulder.
"We've still got a day to go, Houshi-sama," the disembodied voice came, "Are you up to it?"
"But of course, my Sango!" he ran one hand through his limp bangs, noting that he hadn't had a bath in a few days, "Lead the way!"
Sango couldn't help but smile at his jubilant mood. Her heart warmed but a little, yet this small bit was enough.
He silently made a vow to himself, to try not to lie that day. It was too beautiful, she was too beautiful, to taint with the curse of lonliness that followed him like a lost dog.
o
Two and a a bit of a day later, Kagome had gone home, and Inuyasha was sulking by the well, while Shippou tried to cheer him up, and convince him to go after their miko. Kirara purred, dancing around Sango's ankles as she decided to seize her chance. Peeking in the doorway of Keade's hut, she held her breath, chasing away he butterflies that had flown into her abdomen and throat.
"Houshi-sama?"
He looked up, nodding in greeting. He'd been stationed there since yesterday, having had his wounds properly mended, and helping out Kaede with some herb drying andmixing, since there'd not been much else for him to do. Sango ventured further inside, having finished her morning training and had a refreshing swim.
"Kaede-sama has declared you well on the way to recovery."
"I feel fine, actually," the monk told her, "I've just been trying to get better at not relying on sight. Practising with some of Kaede's things."
"Oh, did I disturb you?"
"Not at all. I was getting bored anyways."
"Good," she knelt down beside him, ignoring the excitement brimming inside of her. "Let's go then."
"Go? Where to?"
She studied his puzzled expression, amused.
"We, Houshi-sama, are going to go to something with our lives while we have the chance."
End of Chapter 8