Chapter 7: A Note
Rehearsals for Hannibal began the very next day.
Sango found out almost immediately that her practices started early in the morning, and ended excruciating late at night. By the time she returned to her dressing room, all energy was drained from her.
Sango groaned, "Kagome, they can't expect me to go on like this! I'll die if I don't get any sleep. I'm already worried sick about Kirara. She hasn't shown up in days!" She complained to her newest friend as she departed at the door.
Kagome grinned. "Welcome to the Opera House!" She gave a teasing wink, spun lightly on her heel, and was trotted off.
Sango flopped down on her tiny bed, not even bothering to take off her clothes. The schedule was horrible, and she had the strangest feeling that Sango would never be perky again. Suddenly she wondered if her Angel would be upset for missing her lessons for the day. Surely not… after all, she had been at rehearsals. They would have to move the time of her lessons back a few hours. Sango groaned once more at the thought of staying up any later.
Those were the last thoughts she had before she was asleep.
xxxxx
Miroku watched Sango sleep through the mirror. She looked so sweet and innocent, even though she was exhausted from a hard day's work.
He knew he couldn't wake her up. She deserved to get some sleep this first day, since she wasn't completely used to the harsh schedule of the Opera House. Besides, this at least would put off the moment he had to hear her speak his name again. It was sweet agony—hardly anyone had ever used his name, and those who had had used it out of fear or hate. Sango spoke it with gentle shyness. The problem was, he knew the Miroku she referred to was the Angel of Music, not him. She would never know him for who he was, only for what she thought him to be.
Miroku paced in the dark hallway, trying to think of a way out of this dilemma. He knew that he was falling for the girl, and he didn't like it. The only thing he could think of to do, however, was to leave her completely, and that would break her heart.
No, he couldn't do that. He knew all too well how it felt to be alone in the world.
Miroku cursed silently to himself for the next few minutes, not sure what to do next. Finally, he decided that there was nothing he could do at the moment. He promised himself that he'd keep an eye out for any loophole, though, for he needed to get out of this as soon as possible.
He turned to take one last look at Sango before he left, and frowned.
She was grimacing in her sleep. The bone of her corset was digging into her side, and the heavy stage dress she was wearing was twisted awkwardly around her body.
Miroku hesitated for a moment. Surely it wouldn't matter if he only removed her dress and corset, for her comfort. She'd still have her shift on…it wasn't as if she would be naked, or anything…
Sango whimpered slightly in her sleep, and Miroku made up his mind. Quickly he went to the mirror and started to push it open.
Once again, he froze. What if she woke while he was removing it? What would she do?
He paused a moment longer before also dismissing that from his mind. She was clearly worn-out from the practice, and probably wouldn't even notice.
Besides, if he didn't do anything, she would have a troubled sleep, and wouldn't be fully rested in the morning.
Miroku pushed all other doubts from his mind, steeled himself, then pushed the mirror open and stepped into the room.
A shiver went down his spine as he realized that this was the first time he'd been in the same room as Sango, where she could see him. He began to rethink what he was doing, and then cut the thoughts short. He had nothing to worry about. She wouldn't wake.
Quickly and quietly he closed the distance between them, the only sound being his cape rustling gently on the carpet.
When he reached Sango, he was hesitant to actually touch her. Using as little physical contact as possible, and silently thanking himself for wearing gloves, he undid the laces to first her dress, then her corset. He felt terribly perverted by his actions, no matter how little they were, well, because…
He liked it.
Miroku pulled the covers up over her, and trembled at the warmth he could feel through the leather of his gloves.
Miroku hurriedly picked up the dress and corset, and stored them back in Sango's closet.
Assured that she was now comfortable, he took a step back towards the mirror.
He knew he shouldn't look back, but he did anyway. Suddenly he found himself captivated by the soft locks of hair that fell across her face.
He wondered what it would feel like to touch those fine brown strands, and to brush them out of her face.
Without even a second thought, he walked back over to her bedside and carefully removed his left glove. As soon as he had done so, he knew it was stupid. There was no turning back now, though.
Miroku cautiously reached down and brushed the strays back behind Sango's ear. They felt as soft as he thought they would.
Sango stirred at his touch, and he jumped back about a foot.
Idiot! Your hand should be cursed! Only a demon would have such lecherous thoughts!
"Mew!" Kirara placed one paw out of the mirror, jumping softly to the bed to rub up against Miroku. Sango shifted slightly, letting her arm drape over the side of the bed.
"Kirara! Be silent!" Miroku panicked, coming to his senses to slink out of the room.
xxxxx
Sango woke the next morning, pondering her strange dreams. She had dreamed that there was a dark figure in the room with her…
Abruptly she realized that she was only in her shift. She couldn't recall taking it off last night, either…
Kirara was sleeping soundly beside her…
Where had that cat been?
Was she the dark figure?
Sango frowned and got out of bed, walking over to the closet. There was her dress for rehearsals, with her corset underneath.
She bit her lip, trying hard to remember when she had taken it off. After a little while, she admitted to herself that she definitely hadn't. But who had?
She wondered this as she dressed, then sat down at her desk to brush her hair. She looked in the mirror as she opened the top drawer, reaching blindly for her brush.
Her hand came into contact, instead, with parchment.
Sango frowned and peered inside her desk to find an envelope addressed to her, along with a red rose tied with a deep purple ribbon.
She gently took the rose out and laid it carefully on the desk top, then slid her finger under the seal of the envelope.
She pulled out the letter, and then slowly unfolded it.
Dear Sango,
I excuse your absence from your lessons yesterday due to severe practice for the upcoming show. However, I expect you to be ready for tonight's lessons, which will begin the moment you return. This shall not be too tiring I assure, not very long either, for I know you are still getting used to the schedule at the Opera House. I will meet you then.
-Your Angel
A smile lit Sango's face as she saw the signature. Her Angel had taken the time to write a note to her!
She set it down on the desk with the rose, and then realized there was a post script.
Next time, Sango, do try to take your own clothes off when you get back at night.