Miroku was a light sleeper by necessity. He'd traveled on his own for so long that necessity had become habit, even when he found himself surrounded by friends and in relatively safe environs, like Kaede's home.
At first he wasn't sure what had roused him. The hut was dark and still around him, filled with the sound of his companions' soft breathing. Inuyasha checking in, perhaps?
And then he heard it again: an unquiet, agitated draw of breath.
It was easy enough to guess the source. A few moments more and Sango startled and came awake; he could hear more than see her shifting in the darkness, and then there was only stillness as she settled back to sleep again.
What had she dreamed that had caused her to awaken so abruptly? It was an idle question, one he knew he would never ask, but one that piqued his curiosity nevertheless. She was so strong and so guarded that it was equal parts intriguing and endearing to get even this small glimpse past her exterior.
He let his mind continue to wander while he waited for sleep to return, wondering how she might respond if he did ask, or if he attempted to comfort her. Would she slap him away, or would she at last begin to warm up to him? That second option made for much more pleasant imaginings, even though he knew that Sango would not be Sango if she responded to him the same way ordinary village girls typically did.
Still, if the Sango of his imagination was improbably more accommodating than the Sango of the waking world… well, he wasn't complaining.