Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, but it'd be pretty cool to be a multi-millionaire
Author's Note: Well, for those of you who think this took a while to update, let me tell you that you're insane. The truth of the matter is, this is the fastest update I've managed in a LONG time! What with going to Rome for three weeks and everything.
Haha. Anyway, I'm SO happy with the turn out of the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! You guys are awesome and there are little comments for you at the bottom of the page.
Big thing: News about updates and/or lack of updates are in my profile. Please don't send me e-mails asking where I've been. Check out the News section. It's right at the top of my profile, and I update it pretty regularly (more regularly than I do my fanfics).
I think that's it for now. Story time.
Translations: I promise, there's not as much Japanese in the next chapter. I will translate everything in this chapter that catches my eye, and if you see anything I left out or that you have questions on, please e-mail me.
Arigato (ah-ri-gah-toh): Thank you. Without the following "gozaimasu" to complete the phrase, arigato is semi-informal.
Hai, dozo (hih) (doh-zoh) : Here you go.
Houshi (hoh-shee): Buddhist monk
Kikyo (kee-kyoh): Chinese bellflowers. And yes, the kanji is the same that is used in Kikyo's name.
Namae (nah-meh): Name, a very informal way to ask for someone's name. The lack in polite could be considered a cause of bad upbringing, especially during Sengoku Jidai.
Naze (nah-zeh): Why?
(Sango) to moshimasu (toh) (moh-shi-mah-soo): My name is (Sango). A very formal way of stating one's name. The lack of honorific after her name suggests humbleness. In this case, I use it as a response to Miroku's previous informality.
Special translations: A place for all the italicized words in the translations and for translation notes.
Sengoku Jidai (sehn- goh- koo) (jee- di): The time period in which both this story and Inuyasha take place. Known in the dub as "The warring states era". It was a major turning point in Japanese society, in which lords (tono [toh-noh]) ruled over great estates and commanded armies of samurai.
Kanji (kahn-jee): The Japanese characters that the Japanese people use as their writing system.
Japanese R's: In Japanese, the letter 'R' is not pronounced the same way. Rather, it is somewhere between the 'R' and 'L' sound.
Chapter 2, The Weight of Loss
The snow hit her face as she rode, not at all subdued by the cloud of warm air that streamed from her parted lips. She shivered uncontrollably. Her side bled still, causing her vision to become even more askew. To her, there existed no world outside of the snow, her horse's footfalls- earth-shatteringly loud against the ice- the pain that shook her, and the road ahead of her.
And although other distractions were tangible somewhere beyond her field of vision, her mind was focused wholly on where she was going: to the Takara kingdom, to Kyoden's birthplace. Here, she would convince Kyoden's father, Takara Bairei to motivate the troops and prepare for an all-out war against the shadows. The Takara kingdom would throw their support to her, almost equally aggrieved as her at the lost of their eldest prince, and with their help, she would find the shadow and she would destroy it.
It was dark and the moon and stars were shrouded in a thick layer of storm clouds. They hung eerie and dark in the sky, their linings covered in the silver that Sango could not, would not see. The snow had already accumulated to quite an amount, and ice lay under the covering of the white substance. The road was treacherous and abandoned, unfortunately for Sango, for at that moment her horse's gallop was halted by the presence of a protruding chunk of ice, which had been unnoticed in the dim. With a whinny of distress, the horse toppled over.
Sango did as years of horseback riding had taught her: she attempted to leave the saddle so that her leg would not be trapped beneath the heavy horse. However, her left foot caught in her stirrup and the horse collapsed on top of her ankle. Sango cried out in agony as her ankle made a cracking noise and a tingling pain shot up her leg. Her face contorted with pain, she pushed the horse and gingerly removed her ankle from underneath.
The horse scrambled to its feet. The whites of its eyes showing in fear of what it had struck and the pain in its hoof, it reared. Sango cried out again and tried her best to remove herself from harm's way. She grabbed onto a root that stuck up from the road and pulled herself away from the vicious steed. Landing, the horse tossed its head, stomped its forelegs, and dashed off into the wooded area beside the road. Sango watched it disappear into the thick woods with disheartenment and then lay back into the snow.
It was useless. She was trapped now. No horse and a, at the least, fractured ankle, Sango would have to spend the night the bandit-infested No-Mans land between the kingdom of her father and that of the Takada family. She chuckled softly at the pure irony of the situation. If her home had not been attacked, she and Kyoden would have been the soon-to-be Lord and Lady of this land. Somehow, she didn't think the bandits would take that into consideration before they robbed and possibly raped her.
Sango took the root in her hand again and dragged herself from the road. Now in the untouched snow of the roadside, she closed her eyes and lapsed into unconsciousness.
---
"Miss, are you alright?" asked a familiar voice.
'Kyoden!' Sango's heart screamed. Her mahogany eyes opened and her blue lips part in a happy grin. He wasn't dead! All this had been just a bad dream. But then, her eyes focused and she frowned. "Who-who are you?" she asked. A cruel illusion, that was all it had been. She had been tricked into thinking that this young houshi was her lost love.
"My name is Miroku," reported the young man. "I'm just a traveling servant of Buddha, miss." He began looking through his robes for something. "Namae?" he asked rather informally.
"Sango to moshimasu," she replied, trying to drown her sobs with the formality she was accustomed to. How completely cruel; this young man who sounded so much like Kyoden even had the same name as his little brother.
"Hai, dozo," he prompted, showing her what he had taken from his robes. They were bandages. To her questioning gaze he answered, "Your side is bleeding very badly. Would you allow me to wrap it for you? Then, I'll make sure you get somewhere warm to spend the night."
Sango nodded, but before she could answer him she lost all words, for in that instant, their eyes had met. "Amethyst," she mumbled, forgetting herself completely. She had never seen more captivating eyes in her whole life. Within those violet orbs was a gentleness she had thought had perished from the world when her only love had died.
Miroku blinked and then chuckled softly. Most people found his eyes surprising, but none had ever been so surprised before. He had his mother's eyes, of course, but she had been shut up in her room slowly dying since giving birth to him. His were the eyes that he was never allowed to look upon his father with. "Yes, they're my mother's," he said, almost more to himself.
"Oh," Sango breathed, feeling color run into her cheeks. She averted her eyes to Miroku's hands as he tore the fabric of her kimono, exposing Sango's self-afflicted wound.
Miroku frowned deeply. "Who did this to you?"
Sango looked to the disturbance in the snow that showed where her horse had fallen. It had almost completely disappeared underneath snow, so she assumed she must have been out for a while. "I did it."
"Naze?" Miroku asked, horror-stricken.
Sango felt a single tear drift down her cheek, but could not find the energy to wipe the heinous object away. "Because I wanted to die."
Miroku shook himself and picked up the bandages had dropped. "Why would you want to that when there are so many things to live for? A wealthy girl like you should have a nice big home, large gardens, servants, food, and a family who loves you."
"No," she said, the shaking in her voice uncontrollable. "No family. They're all dead. My home was attacked this very night and was laid to waste. Furthermore, everyone whom I hold dear was killed: my father, my little brother, and my fiancé."
Once again, Miroku dropped the bandages. He whipped his head around and looked into Sango's face. Snowy white and painted without need. Mahogany eyes so longing that it hurt not to love them. Fine clothes that floated around the most perfect image of feminine beauty god had ever created. And lastly, her fragrance: the sensual smells of both irises and white plums that haunted the one who beheld it. "Sango" he breathed, seeing for the first time the woman his brother had been willing to die for.
Sango turned at the tender stating of her name and met Miroku's eyes. They were so bitter-sweetly happy that she gasped. Miroku quickly redirected his gaze and turned his attention to her side.
"I too have suffered a loss this night," he said softly. He gasped as her fingers closed around his hand. Silk. Touching her fingers was like touching silk. He looked up at her and saw an enormous suffering in her dark eyes.
"Please" she said in a hushed voice. "Please do not say that your loss is greater than mine, or I shall not be able to contain my tears." She clutched his hand tighter, an uncouth gesture for such a brief first meeting. Somehow, though, the fact that she had mistaken this monk for her love made the gesture seem almost acceptable.
Miroku smiled sadly at her. "I would say we're just about even," he said with a solemn nod. Then, he reached out and finally began to dress the wound.
Sango's hand retracted as his fingers touched the sensitive skin of her side. They were warm, but it was more than that. They were callused to a level that caused comfort to arise from the scratchy surface. Shivers tickled up her spine as his deft hands brushed against her injury with the softness she had seen first in his eyes. Trust welling up in her heart, she lay back into the snow and fell asleep.
Miroku looked over at the girl when the wrapping was completed. She had surrendered to unconsciousness again, he realized with a sigh. This was going to make things more difficult. He sat back. His journey here had been hard, and he had wanted so badly to reach the Kawate mansion to survey the damage himself. But now, he had Sango to care for. He couldn't bury his brother just yet.
Thinking of his brother, his eyes had strayed without his knowledge to Sango once again. When he broke free from his musings, he did not chastise his eyes, but rather let them remain on her peaceful face. He reached out and tentatively brushed a finger along her headpiece that consisted of kikyo blossoms and so much ebony hair that was not hers. Her smirked mockingly as he ran a finger against the hair that grew from her roots, removing the black paint to expose the true maple glow beneath.
With a sigh, Miroku stood and picked up the young princess. It felt weird, as if he were doing his brother's job. Miroku smiled and lifted his face to the heavens, allowing the snow to drift onto his cheeks. "Well, Kyoden, I don't see you here to do it." He looked down at Sango. Something stirred within his chest. "She needs you, Kyoden. Why'd you have to be a fucking hero? Why do you always have to be so goddamn noble?" He choked back tears bravely. "Well, if you're not going to protect her, I will."
---
When Sango awoke this time, it was not to the supposed voice of her fiancé, but rather to the gentle caress of a beam of sunlight. She rolled onto her side before opening her eyes in order to avoid being struck in the face by the light. The first thing she noted was that she was in a bed. The next thing that caught her attention was that was inside. She sat up and looked around herself.
On the floor beside her lay her hair extensions and her headpiece. Also lying on the floor were her torn robes, now washed to clean perfection and her shoes. She was clothed in a simple white kimono used for sleeping. She was in the room of an inn, not to mention that she occupied the only futon in the room. She wondered if the houshi had left after dropping her off.
As if in answer to her musings, Miroku stepped through the door. "Ah, good, you're awake," he commented. He crossed the room and handed her a towel. "Your bath is ready."
'So he didn't leave,' thought Sango, accepting the towels with a stiff nod. "Arigato." She looked up at him, then around at the room. There was no where to sleep accept on the futon. "Did you sleep in a separate room, then?" she wondered aloud.
Miroku laughed. She looked up at him. His laugh was so similar to Kyoden's warm, friendly, and inviting. Why, if he weren't a priest, she'd think that maybe this man actually was Kyoden's younger brother! "No, there were no vacancies. I slept on the floor over there," he said animatedly, jerking his thumb to the corner. When Sango's eyebrows met, he smiled warmly and said, "Don't worry about it. It's a break from sleeping in the woods."
Sango nodded shyly and stood, biting back a yelp as her ankle objected vehemently to her weight. She bowed briefly and then scurried off to the bath. Miroku watched her go and then crept toward the bath room, a smug look on his face.
- Ichimu
KeeraSango: Wow, I really don't think I'm that good. Maybe your opinion's changed after reading this chapter. Haha. I hope not! Thank you for being so encouraging!
cherryblosomz: haha! I always update
Irasuto: I'm glad you thought the character development was intriguing!
DarkHeartKeyblade: Of course he has a family, what do you think, he popped out of the air? Haha, I'm just playing with you. If you like that he has a family, you'll learn more about them as the story goes on!
Taishoku Kurayami: I'm glad you're enjoying it!
PinkRikku: I LOVE Rikku, if you're referring to FFX. I'm really honored to be your first San-Mir! I've never seen either of the parings you've mentioned. They soundinteresting. Ha. I'm so happy that my story 'ROCKS!'
evelyn12345: After such a great turnout, how could I not continue?
Thanks again for your support, minna-san!