Strange Duet

Chapter VI: A Thin Line

Today was the rehearsals for Hannibal. Sango wanted to perform her audition piece perfectly for her Angel. Unexplainably, she wanted to prove to him that she was not just some little kid who wanted to be an opera star.

Sango wanted to prove to her Angel that she was more than that. She knew that she was being foolish…she knew deep down that she wanted to impress him so that maybe…just maybe…he would love her as much as she already loved him.

Sango practiced the audition piece—Think of Me—tirelessly. She just had to be perfect—for him.

xxxxx

What Sango didn't know was that her "Angel" was already cursing himself for the same reason she was determined to be perfect. He was falling in love with her.

Miroku, of course, would never admit this to anyone, let alone himself. Sometimes, though, he would begin to feel lonely in the cold damp darkness that had so long been his home, and he would see her, pushing stray brown locks behind her ears.

Every time he did this, he would furiously shove the thought out of his mind. She was his student, and he forced himself to think of her this way. Certainly she was beautiful—when she smiled, it lit up his world of darkness, and her eyes would light up with pureness and innocence, that made him buckle in the knees. He envisioned the soft touch of her long, smooth fingers stroking themselves in the cat's fur. He loved to hear Sango talk to that cat, it was adorable.

When Miroku realized how detailed his analysis was of her, he became angry again. One evening, he recalled, he hadn't come to their arranged lesson because he was enraged at himself for being too eager for the lesson for all of the wrong reasons. Sango wailed that night, only hoping that she did not do anything to upset her Angel.

The following evening, Miroku lied that he had gotten caught up in his music again. He knew this was a poor excuse, and was surprised to learn that Sango so easily accepted it. He had felt guilty then…she trusted him too much, when this whole charade was one fat lie.

But his love for her grew every time he met her for her lessons. Each time she sang, each time she smiled, and each time she laughed he was drowning into her.
Miroku was now on dangerous footing, and he knew it. He was only a hair close to becoming obsessed with her.

He tried to pretend he didn't, but he counted the minutes until their next lesson—until the time he'd be able to see her again. Then, for that one blessed hour, he drank in the sight of her, (however much he pretended he didn't).

One day when he was particularly unhappy and had nothing to do, considering the fact that he wasn't in the mood to compose, he sat down and painted a portrait of her. Then he promptly hid it away in fear that she'd see it. Of course, that was also the day when Kirara managed to find the passageway beyond the mirror, and disappeared into his home for three days.

"What do you think of this, my girl?" Miroku pointed to the oil painting, sitting the friend on his lap. "Sango must never see this, will never see this…"

"Mew!" She purred happily, swiping her paw at it.

"You're quite the curious one, aren't you?" He laughed a bit.

She turned her gaze on his half mask, to which Miroku's smile quickly vanished.

"As long as you do not touch it, Kirara, you are safe here."

"Mew…"

Miroku pledged to himself that, at the very least, he would make this girl a diva…heaven only knew, she deserved it! And her cat, she would be treated like royalty!

xxxxx

At first, Sango didn't even want to check the list of characters that the managers nailed up. She already knew she was in the chorus.

Then a terrifying thought struck her—what if she hadn't even made the chorus! Sango hurried up behind the rush of people the check the list herself.

Beside the name of the lead in swirling black letters was the name: La Kikyo.

Sango didn't really know Kikyo too well, (it wasn't as if the diva would stop and talk to her in the hallways), and had only seen her once or twice.

Kikyo was a well built woman, pale and proper. Her hair was raven-back, her eyes grey and she had looked almost identical to Kagome. Sango thought for a brief moment that the two were sisters. That was soon a thought out the window. Kikyo had no care for Kagome at all, and acted as if she were invisible or just another girl in her way. She was a woman only a year or two older than Sango. She was known for her astounding vocal range.

Sango had only heard La Kikyo sing once, and once was enough. It was completely true; the diva had an amazing range… the sound of her voice, however, made Sango wince. It was loud and penetrating, and wavered too much for her taste. Everything about Kikyo was exaggeratingly overdone…everything from her voice, to what she wore, to how she even spoke.

Sango pulled her thoughts back to the list, and scanned down the page. With giddy relief, she found her name under the chorus. She supposed she shouldn't have worried—after a thorough inspection of the list, she found that everyone in the Opera House got a part, whether they were good or not.

'Now comes the hard part,' Sango thought, 'Telling my Angel.'

Of course, her Angel probably already knew. After all, he was a divine being.

xxxxx

Miroku wasn't surprised as he watched from the shadows of Box Five as Messieurs Kohaku and Hachi announced that they wouldn't be holding auditions. No, he wasn't surprised, but he was still outraged. How dare they! They hadn't even given her a chance!

He raved silently to himself for a few moments, and then regained his composure. Perhaps it was better this way. After all, now all he had to do was get rid of Kikyo. He would continue giving Sango her lessons, and helping her practice the lead role, and then he would make sure that Kikyo got sick on the night she had to perform. Yes, something terribly unfortunate that would cause her not to attend the performance… He laughed to himself.

The managers wouldn't know what struck them. Well…of course, they would know what happened. Or, at least they could guess. They would at least know that the Opera Ghost had something to do with it, he would be sure of that!

xxxxx

The moment Sango stepped into her dressing room, the heavenly voice calling to her.

"Sango, there is no need to tell me what happened. I already know. Do not worry though, this game isn't over. You shall still have the lead on opening night, so I expect you to practice even harder than the sad excuse for a singer who received your part."

Sango was slightly shocked at the irritation in her Angel's voice. She knew that he wasn't irritated with her, but it still scared her quite a bit.

He seemed to realize this, for he quickly added in a soothing voice, "My dear Sango, I overheard you practicing. There is no doubt in my mind that if there had been auditions, you would easily have secured the part."

Sango blushed slightly. So, he was impressed with her… "Thank you Angel, I did it all for you…"

xxxxx

Miroku's breath caught in his throat as he heard her words. I did it all for you…

But of course she hadn't done it all for him. She had done it all for her Angel. He was immensely disappointed as he realized this, but quickly pushed all emotion aside.

God this girl did things to him…

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to control himself. He couldn't…wouldn't…let her do this to him!

Miroku snapped out of it when Sango's voice met his ears.

"Angel?"

xxxxx

"You didn't leave, did you?" She jumped up.

"I am here, Sango."

He sounded a bit off… strained, if you will.

"We will start working on the script…tomorrow. I think you've had enough for one night."

"But Angel—" she began protestingly, not wanting him to leave.

"Yes, Sango?"

"Well…I…I…" 'I'm doing it again! Arguing with my Angel!' Quickly, Sango thought of a question to ask, instead of creating a demand. "I was just wondering… Do you have a name?"

There was another pause, and Sango thought he wasn't going to answer. Then, when she was about to give up…

"Yes."

She waited almost forgetting to breathe.

"Yes…I have a name."

"M-may…may I—"

"It is Miroku. My name is…Miroku."

Sango's face broke into a wide smile.

"Goodnight, Sango. Sleep well."

"Goodnight…Miroku."

xxxxx

Miroku shivered as she said his name, and then hurried off into the darkness. Why had he done it? Why had he been so foolish as to give her his real name?

He had broken down one of the last barriers he had left between him and his growing obsession for her. For now, she wouldn't be addressing her Angel. Now she would be addressing him. Because of his blinded idiocy, he might even begin to think that Sango would like him for him, and not simply because it was her Angel. But, that would forever be impossible...

Wouldn't it?