Every Time

Chapter 9: Slipping and Falling

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

Sunlight warmed his skin, dancing over his cheeks and across his nose. He stared into it, feeling only a small portion of the pain that before would've been given to him. He could smell water on the air, as it had rained the previous day and ground squished just a little when they walked. Twice he nearly stepped in a puddle, but she stopped him, pulling him around it. She was light on her feet, sometimes letting go so she could dance and twirl, carefree in the wind. The sound of her clothing rustling against her skin, and her hair whipping violently in the wind was vivid and beautiful.

And he was so sure it was there.

Sango had called Kirara to help him up into one of the tallest trees around, and he sat upon on of the thick branches, carefully balanced. One hand gripped another thinner branch, and he was able to lean back and feel the wind push it's hands through his hair, and gravity caused him to be dizzy as the blood all rushed to his head.

Her laughter echoed in and around the branches, as the hushed gale opened the canopy a little, and he felt rays of sun on his feet for a minute before it settled. They made quiet conversation, while she climbed about like a squirrel, fearless.

More like an angel.

Like she could fly.

She hung from her knees, head level with his except for the fact that she was upside down.

"Don't fall," he told her.

Softly she replied, "I won't."

He gave her no immiediate answer, just leaned forwards a little, and heard her draw in breath. "So you can worry about me, but I can't worry about you?"

"It's different," she insisted, letting one arm drop down to trace circles in mid-air.

"Not so much."

"I thought we weren't going to worry today," she said blatantly, and he reached over to where he knew he put their lunch.

"You're right. Let's eat."

She climbed around and dropped onto the branch beside him like a shadow. She opened the cloth she'd wrapped the food in, carefully laying it on her lap. Not too elaborate food, but she had put some tea in a 'thermos' that Kagome had left.

"Where's Kirara?" he asked.

"Sleeping up high," she told him, and he felt her lay a cloth over his knee, then put some food onto it. "Lunch."

"Thank you."

Even just to breathe…

It felt like they were tiptoeing around something, trying to avoid it's ominous presence, eating away at their stomachs. That something grew bigger and bigger, making it hard for Sango to swallow, threatening to force her to vomit it up if she were to speak. Not even the sunshine could alight it and cause it to fade from view, even for that day.

Don't let go, not now.

Don't let me go.

He had pretty much gotten the hang of eating, so she only needed to help him a little. A smile crossed her face when he had finished, and sipped his tea without knowledge of the sauce that still remained on the corner of his mouth.

"Here," she said, reaching over with a cloth napkin. With one quick dab she removed the sauce, then darted back away. He nodded, and began folding the cloth back up. There was another silence, and she began fidgeting, playing with the bark under her fingers.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "Was this not a good idea?"

"It was a wonderful idea, Sango," he sighed, "I was just thinking, that's all."

She stood, plucking the fabric from his hands. "I'll put these on the ground so we don't have to wory about them. Or not, if you want to go somewhere else."

"No, I like it here."

Funny how she was only wrong after she doubted herself.

She stood, feeling the roughness of the thick branch under her bare feet, as she had taken off her sandals to climb better. That was how she climbed trees when she was a child. She came home dirty, and sometimes scratched up, but she never fell.

"S-Sango?"

His head was tilted away, so she could barely see his face. The whirled around it, that which neither could speak of, so fast they could barely see eachother on the other side.

And he let himself slip a little.

"Remember, before, when you kissed me?"

"I… yes." She put the blanket filled with lunch on a higher branch, then wrapped her arms around herself, still not sitting down. Knowing him, she couldn't help but be a little suspicious. Always suspicious, always cautioned, she always doubted him.

"I was worried about you," she said, answering his silent questions, "And relieved that you didn't die."

"Nn."

"And…"

Let me slip now…

"Houshi-sama, why…?"

Just a little now…

"It hurt…" she whispered as she crouched down next to him, feeling herself grow nervous, confused, and ever so scared. Head becoming light and dizziness pulling at her, she could've sworn she was about to topple off the branch and down to the ground.

"It means a lot," he told her, "That you care."

"How could I not?"

Adjusting herself so her legs dangled over the branch, Sango felt more naked than she ever had in her entire herself. And there was no more time for doubting.

"I thought we weren't going to do this today," she commented.

"We don't have to… not if you don't want to…"

They had put the pieces together. Many times they had said it, but with different words, masking their true intentions. Not exactly kisses were what they gave, and what they sang was not quite a love song. Going back to the niave dance, yet again. Yet again.

She stood, gasping in breath to stifle a cry. Upon his shoulder she rested her hand, squeezing softer than she meant to, so it felt almost like the touch of a ghost. Clutching the finished lunch she'd retreived from a higher branch, she moved to the next branch without trouble, but hesitation was obvious.

"I'll come back up and get you," she said, and he doubted he would hear her laugh for a while. Still, he felt her lean back in again, using her free hand to rest her weight against the thick trunk of the tree.

"You're going to give me a heart attack," the monk told her with a light-hearted smile.

"Maybe I will."

Quickly she swooped forwards, closing her eyes tight. He felt her bangs tickle the bridge of his nose, and her lips touched his lightly. Sorrowfully. He could smell the salt in her eyes, the same as in his.

We're going to make something of today.

It was like falling. Everything rushed past him so fast, as her taste imprinted itself on his mouth, and she pulled away, touching her forehead to his. Both didn't speak for a while, listening to eachother breathe in the wind.

Finally her presence left him, and he reached out one hand for her, but she wasn't where she had been. He felt her fingertips touch, and she whispered, "I'll come back for you."

Just a little…

They began to fall.

o

Within the shadows, silver threads glinted. Strung out so tightly they were hard to see. So thin, so sharp, they'd cut your head clean off if you were to take one wrong step.

Splashing in puddles of blood, shiny and rust red as they dried on the walls. He wrote their names, one by one, and crossed them off as they were captured. Just pieces in his game.

Changing, morphing, remolding itself.

He looked at the next names down on his list. Everything was in place. Everything was perfect.

Of course. He was the perfect incarnate of evil.

Evil; such a word could not describe what he had in store

Goodness knows they'd want to call him other things than evil. Though all the words ultimately amounted to the same thing.

And that was their downfall.

He laughed, and tightened the knot, knicking his finger just lightly. The blood swelled, and he wiped it on his sleeve, a long, violently red smear.

To be in love is to be a blind fool.

And fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

So the spider pushes the angels in from behind.

Come into my parlour…

o

"Don't ask why," Sango told him firmly, as she took her hand in his. Miroku didn't speak, just walked quietly alongside her. For there wasn't a why she could give him. She had no explanation. And she didn't want to tell him any more, for fear he would shatter it altogether. Or that she would get him killed, for her sake. That was unfair, and she did not want to be the one to prevent him from his family's revenge.

He barely noticed when she tightened her grip, so tightly that her fingernails left red marks in his skin.

"What do you want to do now?" the taijiya asked, halting. Kirara was chasing butterflies short distance away, though slightly distracted. The air was quiet, as if someone had turned off the sound. Sango could hear too much though, everything screaming at her inside her head. Miroku had barely heard her question, trying to pinpoint what it was…

"Houshi-sama?" Sango turned to look at him, growing worried with his pensive expression.

The kiss, the kiss…

She just couldn't place it. He'd kissed her back, or at least she thought he had. Maybe it was just her. The memory replayed, causing her mind to wander, and her heart to dance around, part thrashing, part waltz.

"Miroku?"

She took a step towards him, but he was already moving towards her, a sense of urgency about him.

"Sango, move!"

So blind, she couldn't even feel around her the malice growing, the stench of death coiling around them. Her heart scolded itself as she stumbled to the ground, damning her lack of weapons, besides those hidden on her person. Caught helpless and off-guard, she turned her head upwards as she heard a scream.

Where she had been, Miroku stood. And just left of where his heart lay, beating alive in his chest, a thin wooden tentacle ran through his flesh. It slowly drew out, and he gasped in breath, just barely able to stand. Her lips suddenly tasted bitter, and were paralyzed along with the rest of her. Blood dripped from the tentacle as it pulled itself out and released him. Sango scrambled to her knees, catching his heavy body as it fell. Each hand braced a shoulder, and she put her forehead against his collarbones, trying to keep him upright. He coughed, and blood landed in her hair.

A laugh sounded off to the side, and she glanced over her shoulder, finding just what she had expected. Two empty black eyes stared at her, adorned in white babboon fur. The tentacle disapeared beneath the robe, and it moved forwards. Sango didn't doubt it was smiling.

"Sa…"

She turned back to Miroku, wrapping her arms tightly around him and feeling his blood stain the front of her yukata, warm and sticky where it reached her skin. Down, she pulled him down and closer to her, so that his head rested against her chest. Her hand rain over his hair, and she nearly choked on the pungent smell of his blood.

"Guess your practice paid off," she said almost ironically.

"I-"

"Miroku, stop." Sango heard their attacker say something witty behind her, but she ignored it, enjoying what she had left of him. "I'm sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry!"

There was a growl, as Kirara faced their enemy, protecting them for the moment. She lept forward, biting and clawing at him, but he knocked her away with a tentacle. Sango stifled a yell as she saw the feline's body hit the ground hard, and she reduced herself to her smaller form, whimpering.

"Kirara…"

Sango trembled, feeling Miroku's inhalation become ragged, forced. The blow hadn't actually hit his heart, but with a wound like that, it was nearly impossible for a mortal to survive. And with Naraku on the offensive…

"Don't die on me," she begged softly, "I won't let you die! Not now!"

"Get to your feet, Sango," came Naraku's rhythmic and satiny voice. She looked angrily to him, and he was pleased to see, for the second time in the year or so he had known her, pure rage and sadness overtaking her.

Her lips touched the monk's forehead, then his mouth once more, memorizing the feeling, the taste. His unseeing eyes looked frantically (blindly) to where he thought she was, as she lay him on the ground, her hands wet with red liquid.

"I'm sorry…" was all she could manage, with "I wanted more time…"

Sango picked up his right hand in hers, tracing a circle in the middle of the silk.

"We thought this would be the death of you… But it ended up being my fault. My fault I loved you. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for a lot of things, but it's not doing me any good." she then stood, pivoting to face what was or seemed to be Naraku.

"All I can promise, is that I will not give up on you…"

Triggering the blade hidden on her left forearm, the taijiya rushed forwards. She swung her arm out, trying to slice across his chest. He laughed, gliding backwards, but she only came on stronger, lifting her leg to bring an axe kick down on the top of his head. Her target was off, and she managed to maim his shoulder, but he caught her off-balance, and a tentacle wrapped around her right arm. Desperate, she lashed out with her other leg, trying to get his side. There was solid contact, but he didn't seem to be phased.

She delivered a punch to his face, screaming so hard her throat felt like it was on fire. He lost ground, but another tentacle came out to wrap around her thigh.

"You couldn't even show up in person!" Sango yelled, "You had to send a fucking kugutsu!"

With all her strength, she pushed her arm forewards, the blade easily slitting the babboon pelt, digging into the puppet. But the tentacle around her leg bit in tighter, threatening to snap the bone. She kept slashing at him, relentlessly. Twice she cut herself, but took no notice. She felt the tentacle bite at her skin, knew she was bleeding and her ankles felt sprained.

But she had made a promise.

It was all she had.

And twice now, twice, Miroku had shed blood directly for her sake, this not counting the many times beforehand he had saved her life. But his own life was becoming the cost, bleeding furiously out of him. The bloodline was dying, if not already dead. And all she could see was her fault, everything was her fault.

Her blade finally sliced off the head of the kugutsu, and she took a moment to rest; a fatal mistake. For she soon felt around her neck something cool and alive. It tilted her head up, and the headless body stared at her, laughing in pleasure.

Sango tried twisting her head around to see Miroku's state, but she only caught a glimpse of dark red and his form, just barely on his knees, before she was jerked forwards.

Not wanting to die, she tried struggling. There were still so many things unfinished. Kohaku was still trapped in Naraku's web. They all were. And his venom was eating away at her, so much that she was barely there.

She felt something press into her neck, and a few seconds later, all went black.

And everytime I try to fly, I fall…

End Chapter 9