Every Time
Chapter 13: Keloid
Notes: Yeah, I know, it's been forever and I apologize. Thanks to everyone who keeps reading and reviewing and to my wonderful beta Parsnip (thank you so, so much!). Just one chapter and an epilogue to go, and I'll try to get those up as soon as I can, so don't worry about this being abandoned.
This chapter's title is a little odd, I know. If you actually want to know about it, I suggest going here (without spaces) www (dot) medicinenet (dot) com (slash) keloid (slash) article (dot) htm. And if you're looking for some interesting rock music, try Dir en Grey's Gyakujou Tannou Keloid Milk. It's strange, yet wonderful.
Rights disclaimed.
o
"That boy… is gone."
Kagura lifted her head where it was resting on her folded arms, blinking a few times to clear her vision.
"Sorry, Kanna-chan. What was that?" she asked, arching her eyebrows slightly. Kanna was sitting behind her on the balcony, while she was leaning against - sleeping on, really - the railing. They had been having one of their usual 'conversations'. Kagura would babble and rant on for a while, talking, complaining and the like.
"That boy…" Kanna murmured again, eyes staring almost vacantly at the silky white material that covered her knees.
"Kohaku?"
She nodded in response.
The expression on Kagura's face softened, her eyes sliding out over the heavily-forested scenery. "Mmm…"
Waiting for her younger sister to continue, Kanna began to run a fingertip along the rim of the mirror lying in her lap. The image shown inside begin to waver, giving the appearance of ripples on now silvery water. Kagura had always found it fascinating to watch Kanna use it, no matter how many times she had seen it already.
"Yeah, Kohaku's gone," Kagura continued after a while. "His sister, that woman taijiya Naraku is keeping now, set him free." A bitter smirk spread across her face. "I think I envy him, you know? He was able to get away from here. I mean, yeah, he's dead and all, but I'd rather be there then trapped here like I am. Like we are.
"It was hard on Sango. And I don't blame her for all that crying and screaming, either. He was her little brother, and the only thing she had since Naraku slaughtered her family. To do such a thing would be tough on anyone with a certain amount of morality left. To make such a sacrifice would take a lot. But," The bitterness of her smile turned wistful.
"It would be worth it."
o
Beads of sweat ran in narrow rivers down Sango's forehead, some clinging to strands of the dampened hair that stuck to her face. The lightweight material of her taijiya uniform clung to her sweat-slick body, and the thick, humid air that had settled that day was no help. Nonetheless, Sango pulled herself to her feet, wiping dirt and grime from where it had collected on her body and taking a deep lungful of air as she did so.
The courtyard of the expansive castle was not overly large, but big enough so that Sango could train without damaging anything, nor have to restrain herself too much. Though she had no partner to spar against and she lacked most of her weapons (only her Hiraikotsu was left in her possession, as it had not been taken from her since the day Naraku had sent her out, and that unfortunate thing had happened), she was able to keep herself in decent shape.
She had been doing so every day, Miroku recalled from where he sat in the shade, since Kohaku's death. His second death, it could be called, though he wasn't very alive for that second life. Sango had been left shaken after the event, and he had known it would take some time for her to regain herself, though she would never truly be whole. The first time experiencing such things was hard enough, but it hurt just as much the second time round.
For a long while they had remained in embrace, his hands cautiously wrapping themselves around her trembling wrists, stroking her upper back, neck and face (but going no further). He did not dare speak, letting her take as long as she needed.
He would wait for her, without a second thought.
Sometime later, with her cheek on his shoulder and his chin on her crown, Sango had fallen asleep, and Miroku had soon followed. When he awoke the next morning, she had vanished, empty airspace next to him. He had called for her, and she had not replied. He had tried reaching out his arms and fumbling around the room until he was sure she was not there.
Even after trying to calm himself, Miroku found himself jittery, paranoid, and with good reason. Panic seized him once more. He had an overflowing handful of questions - Where was she? Was she alright? Was she alive? Did Naraku take her? Or did she leave of her own accord? Was she planning on killing herself to follow her brother? - but no answers.
Finally, he heard soft footsteps coming down the hall that he hoped-prayed-knew were hers. He heard her enter, and something drop to the floor before Sango approached him.
"Sango," he blurted out, focusing himself on where her sounds were coming from.
"How long have you been awake?" she asked him simply in return. Her voice was soft, as if a faded remnant of something that used to be.
"Just a while. Where were you?" Miroku asked, trying not to sound anxious or upset.
"The courtyard."
She smelled of sweat and ashes.
He was about to ask her how she was feeling, how she had slept, if she had forgiven herself for Kohaku's fate yet, but he could hear the floorboards creaking as she lowered herself to the floor beside him. He felt her press something cold and circular into his left hand, touch lingering.
"Believe it or not, there's an apple tree here," Sango told him, warmth returning to her voice. "There's quite a few weeds, but in the corner there's a small tree. I figured you would be hungry."
"Thank you."
She exhaled as she brought her arms out in stretch, doing the same with her legs before leaning back against the wall.
Miroku took a cautious bite of the apple, and chose not to mention how sour it was, just grateful to be eating it. Sticky rivulets trickled down his unshaven chin, which he wiped away with the sleeve of his robe.
"So," he asked semi-light heartedly after a short lull, "how are you doing?"
"I'm alright."
Insistently, he tried to smile. "Sango…"
She fidgeted, but said nothing.
"I don't expect you to be perfectly okay," he continued to her, the grin coming more naturally. "What happened was, without a doubt, very hard on you. I admire you for being as strong as you were, and don't you dare think I'm lying. I just don't want you to start keeping all of what's going on in your head inside you again, because that's unhealthy and it will only amplify the damage. It is hard to live with such things, such memories, but I know you can get through it. And I promise you, I will help you as best I can. Sango?"
Again, she did not answer.
"I'm sorry," Miroku said, "that kind of seemed to come out of no where, didn't it?"
"No…" She leaned over to her right, resting some of her weight carefully on him. "I… thank you."
Miroku found himself forming her face in her mind, painting her expression wistful, her hair a little mussed and her lips turning upwards. He knew this image of her probably did not match what was actually in front of him, but kept it in his mind's eye nonetheless.
"When we get out of here," said Sango, "and when this is all over… I want to give Kohaku a proper burial. Him and the rest of the taijiya."
"I wouldn't expect anything else."
"I miss him, and I wish it could be different… but I'm glad." She clasped her hands, and rested them in her lap. Of course she missed Kohaku; it was like ripping out part of her all over again and sending it away, knowing she wouldn't see it again for a long time, if ever. She couldn't help but regret it in one way or another. However, she mentally reprimanded herself for such selfishness and thought about how much happier Kohaku was now.
Naraku could not use him, could not hurt him, could not ravage his soul any more.
He was her little brother. She was supposed to protect him. And she had done her best to see that through.
"I know he would want me not to miss him, but I can't help it…"
Miroku's hand found her knee and squeezed.
She didn't quite understand why Miroku had such firm faith in her, nor why she believed him or when they had tiptoed over a line that was playful and flirtatious mock-hatred and into that which they were now. But nonetheless, she brought her mouth to his ear and let out careful whispers of the plans she made with Kagura. Plans to overthrow Naraku; to avenge Kohaku among countless others; and to escape, or at least to try. What other chance did they have?
Afterwards, he carefully kissed her forehead and then her lips, and she smiled, even if neither could see it.
o
Since then, Sango's training sessions in the courtyard had become a daily ritual that Miroku did not object to, except to remind her not to work herself too hard. It was a risky move, seeing as Naraku could watch and pick up on her techniques, other strengths and weaknesses, but she figured if they were ever going to get out she would be at a great disadvantage if she was not in proper shape. Miroku, not having completely healed from the removal of the shard from his body and now lacking eyesight, usually rested in the courtyard and observed her with the senses he still had.
Sango, for the most part, had stayed fairly quiet. The days seemed to stretch on in her silences, and their situation did nothing to help it. Every second they tried to make sure they were alert and ready.
It was rather exhilarating in a way, being that close to death. Nerve wracking and mind rupturing and exhilarating all at once. It was made a little more livable, though, by the promises of 'You have me' whispered from one to the other, as many times as were necessary. Such things kept Sango grounded, and Miroku from cracking.
Strangely, Naraku had not been in touch with either of the two for the last few days, causing both to worry. They were unable to stop themselves from wondering, as horrible as those things might be, what Naraku was planning next. It reminded Miroku of the shogi games he would sometimes play with Mushin back when he was a child at the temple. Admittedly, he played with skill above the average, but nothing spectacular.
"How was it?" Miroku asked Sango as she lay down on a patch of unruly grass, her breath coming deep and slow.
"Good," she answered breathily, her voice sounding nearer and brighter. "Pass me an apple?"
"Of course."
o
"Sango?"
The taijiya looked up as her name was spoken, directing her eyes to the doorway of their room. There, Kagura leaned against the frame, her half-open fan hiding part of her shoulder. Miroku could tell from her tone, she was not quite displeased or worried, and not really annoyed, but somewhere in between.
"Naraku wants you."
o
Just like every time before, it made Sango sick to see him, to hear him, and just to be near him. Even so, this time was a little worse in the same way it was a little better.
She stood in front of Naraku with her hands clasped behind her back, eyes looking everywhere but at his. She was almost afraid to open her mouth, for fear she would lose control of herself and begin screaming at him about how horrible he was, and how much he deserved death. She was almost afraid to move, for fear her body would run forward and attempt to hurt him in any way she could. Thus she stood still, knees just slightly bent, waiting for him to begin.
As much as it had damaged her, taking away Kohaku had destroyed one of Naraku's valuable weapons against her. The thought, however painful, had given her a burst of hope and of strength, and part of her fear of him had receded. The struggle would not be so easily won for either side.
And there he was, just a few meters in front of her, red eyes and black tendrils of hair about his chest and shoulders that almost looked as if they would come to life any moment and reach out to strangle her. The shadows seemed to pool around him, trying to lure her in.
"So, Sango," he said, voice saccharine. His scarlet gaze tried to command her attention, but she continued to stare just to the right of his head. She did not respond vocally, but gave a slight nod.
He smirked. "You think you're gaining ground, then? You think what you did helps you?"
The edge on his voice told her he already knew the answers to the questions he asked so mockingly.
She swallowed the phlegm that had gathered in her mouth, moving her eyes a little further away.
"You killed your brother, Sango… Does that not make you a little heartless?"
(A little like me?)
"He's better off there than here," the taijiya uttered.
(Death will only bring thoughts of revenge and more death, a continuing loop near impossible to break…)
"Really," said Naraku. "Is that what the monk thinks as well? I might be a little worried if I were him, you know. If you're willing to sacrifice you're own brother, who knows what else you might do. Especially after letting him lose his sight like you did." He shifted his weight, eyeing her up and down, outside and in. "Then again, he's not all that trustworthy either, is he?"
(So hard for a human heart to take…)
"If you're trying to turn me against him it's not going to work!" Sango snapped. "You're trying to make us like Inuyasha and Kikyou, but that tragedy won't be repeating. We're not like that!"
"You seem sure of yourself," he commented, giving her that smile that made her feel like a child again, so unknowing. "Very well then… I have a little mission for you. The Saimyoushou will escort you to a temple where you will gather information on the disturbances that have been plaguing them for the past while. You'll be leaving immediately. Understand, Sango?"
She nodded once more and turned to go, clamping her mouth shut and pushing down the anger that was trying to force its way up inside of her. It just bothered her, having to take orders from him like a marionette. And it caused her grief to know this was just like what Kohaku had experienced.
(Just marionettes, on strings so thin and easy to cut.)
"Hurry back," Naraku taunted as she headed swiftly through the doorway, "Who knows what might happen while you're gone."
(Snip, snip.)
o
When she arrived at the temple, she found it had burned down some time ago. All that was left was charred wooden beams among a pile of ashes and some various items made out of metal shining through. Beside it was a small graveyard, which she might have visited had she not been so anxious to get back.
The low droning of the Saimyoushou almost sounded like monotonous laughter, ringing in her ears, but maybe she was just mishearing.
She did not go to see Naraku when she reached the castle once again that evening, but hastily made her way straight to the room she and Miroku were occupying. He was sitting in the corner, pensive, and gave a shaken grin as she greeted him.
"What did Naraku tell you?" she asked him urgently.
He sighed, and responded, "Nothing that was true."
o
"They aren't coming back, are they?"
Kagome swallowed a mouthful of rice, worriedly glancing at Shippou through the flames of their small campfire. The young kitsune sat cross-legged at the base of a small tree, Kirara's head rested on his knee as she slept, unaware.
"What do you mean by that, Shippou-chan?" Kagome asked, sending a short look to Inuyasha before putting her plate down on the ground and getting to her feet.
Shippou pouted, pushing around the food on his plate with his utensils. "Sango and Miroku… They're gone."
"Yes, but I'm sure-"
"You don't have to lie," the child murmured. "I get it. They're dead, aren't they?"
Kirara mewed soft inquisition at this, large eyes blinking sleepily. She had seemed distressed since her mistress had disappeared, and had thus attached herself to the also distraught Shippou.
"And if they're dead, we really don't have any hope, do-"
"Shut up!"
Kagome, Shippou and Kirara all looked up abruptly, startled at Inuyasha's outburst. The hanyou had his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, staring firmly at Shippou. Flashes of firelight darted over his face in the thin evening light.
"Enough of that, Shippou! You're being an idiot!"
"But-"
"No buts!" Inuyasha interjected. "You have no proof they're dead! This is Sango and Miroku we're talking about here! So don't you dare say such things!"
Kagome sighed, closing her eyes. "Inuyasha, don't you think that was a little harsh?"
"You know you were thinking the same thing, Kagome."
"He didn't mean to yell at you Shippou-chan," she said, resting a hand on the kitsune's head. "Just try to keep hope okay?"
It's hard enough for him as is.
o
Though Sango asked a few times what exactly Naraku had said to Miroku, he had always given her a vague answer, or just refused outright. He had, however, assured her he had not been assaulted in any way, nor had he believed a word of what he had been told. Sango had, after more than a few moment's hesitance, told him in pieces the words Naraku had taunted her with before she was sent off, to which he had been quiet for a while and thanked her. But he still told her no more, and the discussion did not go much further aside from those hushed 'It isn't true', because truly, neither wanted to delve too far and find something they didn't want to.
Such things soon slipped down from terms of importance, as the stifling aura that filled the castle and its grounds began to wane, growing dimmer by the day. Sango's stomach seemed to grow heavier by the minute, as if it was being filled with rocks. Kagura had pulled her aside the day before and whispered in her ear their plans, clarifying and making sure nothing would fall through. There was no time for doubt, but with the wind-user seeming so eager, so desperate and hopeful to escape her keeper, Sango couldn't help but believe her.
And now it was, as the saying goes, now or never.
How could they not seize the chance, when it was the only one within their grasp?
Sango could feel her entire body throbbing, heart pace loud and fast. Her insides felt freezing cold and yet boiling hot at the same time, a strange mixture of excitement and dread. Miroku's hand was in hers, his footsteps following as she led him out of the room, both trying the best they could not to shake.
Now or never, now or never.
With one deep breath, and too many thoughts and emotions to count whirling through her head, she pushed herself another step forward.
End chapter 13