The candles had all burnt out, and she was alone… completely alone.
Sango shivered at the feeling. The entire place felt deserted. She knew that she wouldn't see any sign of Miroku, and after what she had done to him… she didn't blame him for avoiding her.
Sango scrambled around in the darkness, feeling for anything that could help her see. Almost immediately, her hand came in contact with a few, thick wax candles on her bedside table. Along with them were a few boxes of matches. She carefully lit the candle, and held it up so that its warm glow could enfold the entire room. By its dim light, she noticed an envelope on the edge of her bed.
She grabbed the envelope and slit it open, then unfolded the note inside.
Dear Sango:
You will be provided with everything you might need. The hallways are lit and you will be able to see. A meal will be waiting for you down the hallway and to your right. It is the only door that is unlocked, so it should be easy enough to find. Do not be frightened of running into me by accident. I am away at the moment, and will not be back for some time. You may amuse yourself by reading the books provided in your room.
The note was not signed. Either he didn't know how to sign it any longer, or he thought Miroku was too informal, or he was just in too much of a hurry.
Sango frowned at the note, trying to think of what she knew was wrong with it. There was something that seemed odd and out of place. Of course, the sentences were short and to the point, which was odd, but then he probably didn't want to take much time bothering to write to her. She ignored the part that said he was away altogether. She seriously doubted he had even left the house, but she knew he was right in saying she wouldn't run into him. He was probably behind one of the locked doors—out of her reach, like everything else.
Suddenly it hit her. His notes were usually a bit sloppy, with the letters all disconnected—but today, they were written as if his fingers didn't know how to hold a quill. Sango traced over his letters, a frown etched onto her face. Why was it so stiff? It looked as if he were in pain as he were writing… which would explain the short sentences, and the shortness of the note altogether.
Sango gently set the note back down onto her beside table, then got up and headed towards the door.
The first thing she noticed about his house was the silence. Not a sound was uttered as; candle held high over her head, she made her way down the hallway. She supposed that she was used to the sounds of the opera when she woke up, and the hustle-bustle of the ballerinas getting ready for the days' practice.
Even when she had been in here, though, the place had been full of Miroku's music. Now, there was nothing but the drip of lake water, and the crackle from the flame of the candle she held. Even her breath seemed loud and out of place.
She was amazed to find that she feared the silence even more than she had the darkness. Darkness she could bear, if it was full of music—the horrifying combination of both nearly scared her senseless.
Still, she took a deep breath and kept walking. If the candle went out, she knew she wouldn't be able to take one more step. Right now, it was her only tiny light in the vast darkness that surrounded her.
As she walked, her footsteps echoed strangely, making the place seem even more deserted. Deep inside, however, Sango knew that it wasn't. Miroku was here, somewhere, even if he wasn't making a sound. Surprisingly, the thought almost comforted her.
Finally she reached a slight turn in the hallway, and reached for the nearest door. She was relieved that she had found the right room on the first try.
The room was rather tiny, but quaint. It had tasteful designs on the walls, and there was a small dining table in the middle of the room.
On top of the table, there was a tray of food and a glass of wine. It was more than she could eat, but not extensively more. None of the food was hot, and none of it was the type that needed to be cooked.
Sango placed her candle in the holder, and resignedly sat down to breakfast alone. She had known that he wouldn't eat with her—but she had hoped. She couldn't stand the feeling that she was completely alone.
She grew more and more tense and jumpy during the meal, the darkness and silence beginning to get to her. She ate as quickly as she could, not sure what she would do next, but wanting to find something that made sound.
Finally, she was finished her food. She grabbed the candle and fled the room, trying every other door in the hallway.
Door after door she found locked. She barely resisted the urge to fling herself at them, and crash them open—anything besides the seemingly endless hallway. She had tried to go back to the room which she ate in, but found she didn't know which way to go.
With rising terror, she realized she didn't know the way to her room either.
She continued to try opening the doors—conveniently forgetting that Miroku had told her that they were all locked. He must have forgotten at least one.
She recognized the music room when she reached it, and knew she shouldn't even bother to try and open it. She tried anyway. It was locked.
Sango continued in this fashion until she wanted to collapse in the middle of the hallway and cry. She refused to let herself, however, and kept walking. She had to find her room eventually.
Then the horrifying realization that she might be going in circles came to her. She could go on forever! Sango began to run, still checking all of the doors.
Then to her amazement, a doorknob turned. She froze. It wasn't locked! Relief washed over her, and she pushed the door open.
It wasn't her room.
Sango blinked as the entire place began to light itself, torches that she couldn't see flaring into existence. Something must have triggered when she opened the door. Thrilled that she was in a well-lit room at last, Sango dropped the candle and stepped inside.
In her joy, she failed to notice that the door shut by itself behind her, blending right into the rest of the room.
After her initial happiness was over, Sango began to study the place that she had stumbled into. She came to the conclusion that she had never been in a stranger room in her life.
It was made entirely of mirrors, and in the very center there was a kind of metal tree. Sango couldn't begin to fathom what such a strange room could be used for. Then she noticed something even more strange… a kind of rope hung from one of the branches of the metal tree, tied into the shape of a noose.
Suddenly Sango didn't want to be in this room any longer. She turned to go, but the door had vanished. She took a deep breath, trying not to panic. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this room. There was nothing here to harm her.
She vaguely noticed that the room was getting hotter. But wait! Was she in a room?
Suddenly she was in the middle of a vast forest, forgetting as she panicked that the mirrors were just reflecting the tree in the middle of the room. Where was she? It was steadily getting warmer, and Sango began to sweat. She began to walk (though, unknowingly, in circles), but the forest never seemed to end!
Finally she collapsed, tired and dizzy. She was so thirsty…
Sango looked up and saw the noose. In her current condition, it was beginning to look rather friendly… She got up and began to walk towards it.
Just as she was about to place it around her neck, she realized with a sickening feeling just what she was doing. Slowly, she also remembered that she wasn't in a forest…She was in a room in Miroku's house!
Sango staggered back from the noose, but as soon as she looked around, the illusion of a forest began to creep back…
Sango closed her eyes. If she didn't get out of here, she would end up killing herself! But she was alone, and there was no one to help her—No! That was wrong. Miroku! Where was Miroku? Surely he wasn't angry enough to let her die!
Sango gathered all of the strength she had left, and screamed, "MIROKU!"
xxxxx
Miroku stopped pacing the room he was in, listening intently. Was Sango calling his name? He shook it off. He had watched her roam the hallways, and had watched her get lost. Then he had stopped watching and assumed she had eventually found her room… but now that she was calling for him he changed his mind. She was probably still wandering around.
Miroku desperately wanted to go to her and help her, but he knew he couldn't. He would probably just terrify her more! It was better for her to wander around and find her room by herself.
Suddenly he heard her call his name again. This time, it sounded like she was crying.
His head snapped up, and he frowned. Her voice was full with pleading and terror… surely she wasn't that afraid of being lost! He listened to her screaming, which was beginning to become more and more pitiful. Strange, the direction her voice was coming from… it was almost as if…
"MIROKU! Please…please…I'll die!"
His heart stopped, as he suddenly realized…
The Torture Room! He hadn't locked the Torture Room!
Miroku leapt to his feet and fled down the hallways, praying it wasn't too late…