Miroku was dead. Dead and gone, settled in his coffin never to see the light of day again…
Err…well, Miroku never really did see the light of day, but that's beside the point.
Yes, Miroku was definitely gone—
A/N: Wait, what? Do you honestly think I'd kill him off just like that, with no further explanation? What kind of author do you think I am? No, here's the real chapter…
Don't kill me just yet.
Miroku was dreaming.
He usually wasn't one to dream—if he ever had any images in his sleep, they were usually nightmares from the past.
But now… now he saw a figure, bathed all in light.
That was when he realized that he was dead.
A moment passed as Miroku gazed at the silhouette distrustfully. He was certain he was about to fall from wherever he was and land in hell. Unless this was hell… Well, if it was, it definitely wasn't what he had expected.
The silhouette, for some reason, seemed slightly amused at something. "No… this isn't hell."
Miroku stared at the figure. They had read his mind…
Another long moment passed as Miroku examined the profile, and then he asked the only question that came into his mind. "Where is Sango?"
The figure chuckled. "She isn't here, if that's what you think. You should not be here either, Miroku. It is not your time. Go back."
A strange sensation went through Miroku's body, and he didn't even have time to wonder how the mysterious person knew his name before everything went dark…
Sango sat rigid in shock. Miroku had stopped breathing.
"No…No!" she cried out, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them, but it was no use. Miroku was dead.
Sango couldn't believe it. She just couldn't grasp the concept that her Angel was dead… he couldn't be! She had thought that Miroku would always be there for her… and now he was gone.
She felt sick and dizzy, and let herself collapse on his body. "Miroku… Why did you leave me…" she choked, more hot tears spilling from her eyes. "My Angel…"
Miroku could distantly hear someone crying. Who was it? What the heck was going on? Where was he?
He tried to move, but found that he couldn't. It felt as though something was pressed down on top of his body.
Then the person who was crying spoke. Miroku didn't understand the words, but he didn't have to. He recognized the voice.
"Sango?" he whispered.
There was a pause, and then…
"Miroku?"
Miroku forced his eyes open, and they met with Sango's wide hazel ones. "Sango… You're not… dead?" Every word took a great amount of effort to say.
"Miroku! I thought…" Sango stammered, "You stopped breathing… and I thought… you were dead…"
Miroku gave a small, strained smile. "It seems we had a common misconception."
Sango started crying again, but this time they were tears of relief. She flung her arms around Miroku's neck, and he winced. It was getting hard to breathe with her on top of him.
"Sango…" he only got that out before he launched into a coughing fit.
At that moment, however, Inuyasha entered the room.
"Miroku! You're awake! I didn't think you were going to make it—" the dog paused, took the scene in, then smiled slightly. "Sango?"
She looked up at him.
"Miroku can't breathe, woman."
Sango looked down at Miroku and blushed, then pushed herself off of him. "Sorry…"
He tried to make a dismissive motion to show her that it was okay, but found that he still couldn't move his arms.
Inuyasha hurried over and held something up to his mouth, and then helped him drink.
When he was finished, both the hanyou and Sango helped him to sit up. Then Inuyasha handed him some food.
"Here… I couldn't find anymore, but I think this is good for now. It's better than the stuff you're used to, anyway."
Miroku nodded numbly, and found that the feeling was coming back into his arms and legs. It still took an effort to move, but he was able to, and that's what mattered.
After a little while, Inuyasha left them to themselves.
Sango gently wrapped her arms around Miroku, still giddy with relief.
There was still something Miroku didn't quite understand, though. "I… thought you were dead… the boat…"
Sango bit her lip. "Oh… right… You didn't know, then. Um… Kikyo had a bit too much to drink, and apparently she thought she could kill you herself, so she stole a revolver and went to find you…"
Miroku began to smile. "And found the lake… and took the boat." He chuckled darkly. "It served her right."
Sango rested her head on his shoulder. "You scared me."
Miroku reached up and hesitantly stroked her hair. "You scared me more."
Sango smiled faintly and closed her eyes, her breathing beginning to slow. "Goodnight, Miroku…I…I lov…" And soon Sango speech was cut off by a small yawn and then she fell fast asleep.
Miroku paused for a moment, and then tenderly kissed the top of her head. "My angel…"
After a while, Miroku had also fallen into a deep slumber. Sango opened one eye and sighed happily. Her lips softly brushed Miroku's uncovered cheek; her right hand ran through his hair. Carefully, Sango tip-toed out of the room and into the hall. She picked up a candle, which helped her guide her way through the darkness.
When reaching the drawing room, Sango set the little lamp down on the table holding the music box. Sango slid her dark cloak off, looking around for the mannequin which so closely resembled her. A warm smile crossed her face as an idea formed in her mind. Silently she walked around to where she had spotted the mannequin, noticing how life-like it was. Sango blinked in realization at the airy veil that sat on top of "Sango's head".
Cursing herself silently for being an idiot before, Sango lovingly removed the dress and veil from their place and hurried back to the bedroom area. A swan dress! How ridiculous! No wonder Miroku had gotten so upset.
The red silk of her nightgown was now completely hidden by the silvery white satin. It had no difficult buttons or fastenings and was meant to be worn without a corset. Sango mouthed 'thank you' up towards the heavens. She smoothed her fingers over the fine material, thinking about Miroku imagining it in his mind; drawing it out, envisioning her as she was… how Sango was finally within its silky embrace. How Miroku must've longed to be that dress, where he would be able to caress Sango's entire body for as long as he desired.
Wordlessly she placed the veil on her head then moved about the room, lighting candles all around and then pulling the cord to lower the black gossamer curtain that encircled the swan bed. She stood behind its filmy cover, hands folded together, sitting there in deep thought. Sango knew this was her wedding gown. Sango was His living bride.
Bankotsu burst in, an angry and worried look on his face. Before either Hakkaku or Ginta could say anything, he let out a string of curses and insults.
"Do you know how late it is, dude?" Ginta said, exchanging a terrified look with Hakkaku.
Bankotsu took several deep breaths, and the color of his face faded from bright red back to a normal tan tone. As soon as he could speak again, he asked angrily, "Where is Kikyo?"
The managers exchanged another look.
"We don't know… we haven't seen her." Ginta said calmly. "Wasn't she with you?"
Bankotsu glared at him. "If she was, then I wouldn't be here, would I? Where is she!"
"I've already said, I don't—"
"You don't know." Bankotsu finished for him. "She has been missing for three and a half days, and all you can tell me is that you don't know."
"She's been missing for three and a half days?" Hakkaku repeated incredulously.
"Indeed! And you didn't even notice?"
Ginta frowned at him, "We've been busy. How would we know what happened—"
"You must stop this man from abducting Sango! I just can't sit back and allow this to happen! How can she ask me to do so?" Kuronosuke barged in, pushing Bankotsu to the side (at which, he snarled) and marching up to Ginta.
"Do you people know how late it is—?"
Hakkaku broke his partner off with a moan.
"What is it?" He snapped.
Hakkaku pointed.
He looked to where his friend was indicating, and paled. "Not another one!" he exclaimed resignedly.
For, on the desk, there lay a letter. It was addressed to them in blood red ink on the front in the handwriting that they knew all too well.
"What's this?" Bankotsu asked and, without waiting for an answer, strode over and picked the note up. He broke the seal with his finger, and unfolded the parchment inside.
"No!" both managers cried out at the same time, but Bankotsu was already reading the note. They watched with a bad feeling in the pit of their stomachs as his face slowly lost all of its color.
When he finished reading, he was shaking so hard that he dropped the letter. It was hard to tell whether he was trembling with anger, fear, or sorrow.
Hesitantly, Ginta bent down and picked up the letter from the floor.
Hakkaku leaned over to read it with him.
Monsieurs,
As the time draws closer for his opera to be performed, Miroku will be paying closer attention to the little details. His opera must be perfect, and I know that you will do everything in your ability to make it so.
As you know, Miroku has assigned me the role of Aminta. I will do my best, and you need not worry about training me to sing the music. My teacher has done that perfectly.
It is Monsieur Bankotsu that I worry about. Unfortunately, he was our only male vocalist that could even come close to hitting the notes, or else Miroku would have picked another. Please, I am not trying to offend him, I am merely writing down what I have heard from Miroku. "It is a shame that our male vocalists are so lacking in skill." I wouldn't quite put it like that…it seems a bit harsh.
As for the dancing, he hopes that you will be able to improve it. We have no doubt in Madame Kaede's skills—only of the skills of the people she is training, with the exception of Kagome Higarashi, of course.
What he has seen so far has not impressed him.
The orchestra is quite horrible. We need another first trombone, and the violinists need to work on playing in tune.
The chorus, however, is doing very well. This is primarily due to the fact that La Kikyo is not there anymore, and that her absence is permanent. I can say to you that she is dead, and will be…mourned by Miroku and myself.
On the last note, I remind you once more that Miroku's salary is due. Although, according to what I hear, Miroku should have quite a bundle of money, and should be able to afford someplace other than these chilling catacombs. Please, do not worry about me. I am fine. Worrying would be useless.
Fondly,
Sango Youkaitashi.
Ginta and Hakkaku stared at the note, shocked.
There was a long, stunned silence, before Hakkaku finally regained his voice.
"He killed her!" he said, feeling sick, "He killed Kikyo!"
Ginta threw the letter down back onto the desk, then announced, "He's a madman! He'll kill us all off!"
"I bet we're next on his list." Hakkaku moaned.
The two looked up at Bankotsu, whose face resembled death.
Ginta stuttered, "I'm not sure if he is insane, or if he is simply evil… but I do know one thing."
"He is evil!" Kuronosuke bellowed, "He has warped Sango's innocent mind so that it can prove similar to his own! And now…well, look! She is doing his "work" for him! This Miroku must be stopped!"
"Well, I'll tell you what we'll do…"
Ginta frowned up at Bankotsu, who was eerily calm after hearing of Kikyo's demise. "What is that?" he demanded.
Hakkaku looked curiously at their lead singer, and motioned for him to keep going.
Bankotsu glared coldly at them. "The Opera Ghost must die."
A/N: I'd like at least 355 reviews to update...please? Anyway, I hope you found this chapter enjoyable. I have taken notice of the absence of BlackTopHat, SlayerSango23, and some of my other loyal reviewers. It makes me sad (pouts).