Phase 7: Tears

Sango: And…who do I choose again?

Christine: Never mind that for now! Well, Erik and Miroku have had a head start on their lessons, you however… well, you don't need much teaching. Is there anything I can help you with?

Sango: Well, no, I-

Erik: (runs in front of the two) Come back here, Miroku!

Miroku: I don't like this lesson!

Erik: ….Sango doesn't leave you in the end! This-this is just practicing your acting abilities! Can you cry on cue!

Miroku: Then this is to be safe… (Runs and grabs Sango) You belong to me! (runs off with her)

Christine: (blink blink) He kidnapped her…

Erik: That's my boy!

Chapter 11: And So it Begins…

Miroku leaned against the cold wall of the passageway, his heart beating rapidly. What had she done!

He took a shaky breath and shivered. He wasn't sure if he should be angry at her boldness, or afraid that he had hurt her when he pushed her, or surprised that she had touched him like that.

Really surprised…

He recalled her hand in his, her body pressed to his, her lips on his neck… What had possessed her! Surely that wasn't the way she thought she should treat an angel! But then, he wasn't an angel…

But she didn't know that. Did she? By all means, she should realize it now. He couldn't believe he had let her do that to him… Why had he?

Hot shame rose up in him when he realized exactly why he had let her—he had wanted her to. He had wanted her to kiss him, wanted her to… to…

He cut his thoughts off, temper rising again. How dare she make him feel like that! He knew he was being irrational, foolish even, but at the moment he didn't mind. How dare she make him—him—want her, when he knew he couldn't have her?

He turned and pounded his fist against the cold stone of the wall. Then he sucked in a breath at the pain. He brought his hand back and stared at it. Of course, he wasn't wearing a glove. She had taken it off.

He watched the crimson blood drip down his hand, his thoughts not even on it. He had been through worse pain than this. His temper was still raging, and he felt as if he wanted to destroy something…anything.

Suddenly Miroku heard a choked sob come from the room behind him, and he turned to look. It was amazing how quickly his temper disintegrated when he saw Sango lying on her bed, weeping.

Immediately he wanted to go comfort her, but he knew that wasn't an option. He would probably only make things worse. The best he could do right now was go home and cool his temper off. He would deal with this later.

xxxxx

Sango had fallen asleep after a while, and didn't even stir when the dark shape entered her room through the mirror and gently set something on her desk. He began to return back to the shadows, and then suddenly stopped.

He quietly glided back across the room and looked down at the floor beside her bed. It wasn't there. After a moment, he sighed and went back through the mirror.

xxxxx

Sango woke the next morning feeling even more tired than she had the night before. She ached all over, her face felt gritty, and her hair lay in tangles.

She sighed and forced herself out of bed and to her feet, then dragged herself over to the desk. She didn't want to think about what had happened the night before, and was able to push it from her mind…

…Until she saw the rose. She reached over and delicately picked it up. Like the other one he'd given her, it was tied with a deep purple ribbon.

Hesitantly, she also reached out and picked up the letter that had been underneath of it. Surely Miroku (who she was still convinced was an angel) wasn't too angry with her, if he had left her a rose?...

She slowly broke the seal to the letter, and unfolded it.

Dearest Sango,

I apologize for my behavior last night. I was not thinking straight, and had been having a trying day. I hope I did not hurt you too badly when I pushed you away. My thanks for your letting me borrow your father's violin. I know how much he meant to you.

If you wish, I shall continue giving you lessons, however I will understand it if you do not want me to. If your lessons do proceed, however, know that I will never put you in that…unfortunate…circumstance again.

To be certain of this, I will make sure I never have to appear to you again. It was my mistake, Sango, do not blame yourself.

Best wishes during rehearsals today. Remember, opening night is in less than a week. You will have very little time to practice the lead role on stage, but it shall begin today.

Also, be sure to meet the new managers. Apparently, the old ones ran away from some …ghost… that they could not handle.

Hopefully the new ones will be better than the last, but I doubt it.

Monsieurs… Ginta and Hakkaku, I believe?

I remain faithfully yours,

- Miroku

Sango turned the note over. As she guessed there would be, there was a post script.

PS—I want my glove back.

She blushed, then set the note down and opened the top drawer of her desk. She removed his glove and, after a moment, laid it carefully down in plain view.

She only wished she would be here to see him take it away.

Sango thought back to the letter. …will make sure I never have to appear to you again… She bit her lip, then stopped, remembering he didn't like that. She was ashamed of what she had done, to say the least. She wasn't sure what had made her react like that… she had only wanted, in the beginning, to touch him, to know he was real… Well, that had quickly changed.

What did he mean; her practice on the stage would begin today? As far as she knew, La Kikyo was feeling perfectly well, and had no plans of quitting the lead anytime soon.

Still, she had to trust in her Angel. Quite clearly he knew what he was doing.

To even think that he wasn't sure if she wanted to continue her lessons! She had been worried sick that he wouldn't want to continue giving them to her!

Thankfully, that hadn't been the case.

There was a knock on her door, and Kagome's voice called for her. Rehearsals were about to start. It was another day. Hannibal was waiting.

Sango quickly got ready and changed into her outfit, then, with a last look behind her at the glove and the rose on her desk, she ran out.

xxxxx

As soon as he was sure Sango was gone, Miroku slipped out from behind the mirror to retrieve his glove. So she had stored it in her desk drawer—that was why he hadn't been able to find it last night!

He slid the glove onto his hand and disappeared behind the mirror again. He could already hear Kikyo's horrible voice echoing through the Opera House.

It was time he got to work.