Why did I think this was a good idea?
All Miroku could see in front of him was blue. Endless blue, marred by flecks of white—clouds, his addled mind told him—and… Sango. The taiji-ya in front of him showed no fear as they plunged higher and higher into the sky, both seated astride her companion demon, Kirara. Fierce wind whipped her hair back toward him, threatening to tangle in his face. He inched closer, more to avoid the problem of her hair than to see better over her shoulder, although the shift had that disconcerting effect as well.
He had ridden on Kirara's back only a scant handful of times before, but only quite low to the ground and never well. Those previous attempts had been borne of desperation, nothing at all like this. He stared resolutely ahead of them, into the horrifying and boundless expanse of the sky, because he did not think he could look down without falling off. And although Sango had promised not to let him fall, he wasn't willing to risk it.
"Hey," Sango grumbled, squirming in his arms as Kirara leveled off and Miroku held on perhaps a bit harder than necessary. "Hands to yourself!" When he did not let go, and he would not let go because so far as he was concerned he was clinging for dear life, she added, "And who said you could grab onto me like this? It's perfectly safe–"
Miroku chanced a look down, and immediately wished he had not. They were drifting very far above the tallest trees, as high as mountains. He could hardly make out the shape of their friends below them, and hoped Sango knew what she was doing.
"Watch the hands," she snarled suddenly.
At first, Miroku wondered what the problem was. Then he realized that his hands might possibly have crept up her torso to the point where their position could (conceivably) be considered inappropriate, and hastily moved them lower to circle her waist. He considered it an unwise idea to let go altogether, but Sango did not seem mollified by the fact that he had willingly corrected his error.
She glared over her shoulder at him, as if daring him to keep his hands on her. "You don't need to cling like that…and there is no excuse for groping—"
"Well if you didn't wish for me to touch you, why did you offer to let me ride with you?" he asked in genuine bewilderment. He'd agreed to this thinking it a pretext for physical closeness. Considering what had happened among the vines after their narrow escape from the spell of illusory death, it had seemed a reasonable assumption. Reasonable and, it seemed, completely wrong.
"Use your staff," she sighed. Aggravation and exasperation were equally evident in her voice.
"What?" He was undoubtedly pushing his luck, and wondered if he might make her so angry that she would hurl him to his inevitable and painful death. Or at least guarantee that they would never ride like this again. Which might not be such a bad thing.
"Not that staff," she grumbled, at last realizing the source of his confusion. "The one that's been digging into my ribcage while you act as if we're about to die. Put it across my lap and hang onto that."
Reluctantly, he did as he was told and hoped for the best. Sango's suggested method worked well enough, but he had much preferred being pressed up against her. He sighed. If only…
What followed was a seemingly-endless series of laps, ups and downs, and banking turns, but eventually Miroku's instinctive fear dissipated and he began to get the hang of riding through the air. If he didn't look down or think about it too hard, it wasn't much different from riding a horse. He'd taught himself to do that without much difficulty. Perhaps he really could learn to do this after all.
At some indication from Sango, Kirara dropped down and leveled off a few feet above the path, moving with increasing speed as she went. He recognized the unspoken message: Kirara could easily fly as fast as a man could run. Sango was right. If he rode with her on Kirara while Inuyasha carried Kagome, they would make much better time than they would walking. This might make the difference between their finding a jewel shard and that same shard falling into their enemy's hands.
And if it also afforded him the option of avoiding unnecessary exertion and of spending his time in close proximity with Sango—instead of a scowling and perpetually grumpy hanyou—well…
Sango twisted around to offer him a smile over one shoulder. "You're doing well," she told him. "What do you think?"
Kirara banked suddenly, turning sharply around to head back to their friends, and for once he handled it easily, with barely a thought. "I think this is going to work nicely."