A/N: How was everyone's Easter/Passover? Good, I hope. (munches on a chocolate bunny) I'm quite content, as is Erik. He ate two bags of Jelly Beans and Miroku's still passed out on the couch. Sango's probably wondering where he is...poor Sango. Anyway, I don't know about you, but this chapter may cause you to have a rollercoaster of emotions... so I'm just warning you all...because I love you so much. (takes another bite of bunny) Oh, the acne I'm going to have...

When Sango woke, she was still in complete darkness. For a moment, she thought that she was still unconscious, but then Sango decided that she couldn't be. Sango felt around her and decided that she was on a pile of cushions somewhere. What had happened? Where was she?

"Sango?"

Sango looked up to see a familiar pair of cobalt eyes above her, and remembered everything. She smiled. "Miroku."

There was a sigh of relief. "Thank God, I thought I had harmed you in that fall."

Sango grinned. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Did I just hear you say "Thank God?"

There was a moment's silence, and then an amused voice said, "Yes, I suppose you did."

Sango pushed herself to her feet, and then felt through the darkness until she found Miroku. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. "What happened after I passed out?"

Miroku frowned, hesitated, and then began to tell her.

Miroku landed on his feet, much like a cat would. Of course, he had been expecting the fall, and had positioned himself so that he wouldn't get hurt.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten to warn Sango.

He heard her gasp of surprise as the floor gave out beneath her. Then, when they had landed, there was silence.

A wave of terror passed through him. What had he done? Frantically, Miroku knelt down next to her, and carefully lifted Sango into his arms.

There were angry shouts from above, and he knew at once that he would be pursued. Someone, one of the officers, most likely, was beginning to form a mob. The yells of rage, which once he had laughed at, now sent shivers through his spine. Miroku had Sango to think of now, and if she was harmed, he'd never forgive himself.

Miroku walked as quickly as he dared, down the passageways. Sango would have to wake up soon… she would have to! He didn't know how long they could stay in his lair without being discovered.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, they reached the lake, and Miroku rowed to the other side. As soon as they got inside his home, he gently set Sango down on a pile of cushions in the Swan Room, and waited anxiously for her to recover consciousness.

"So the mob is coming? How much time has passed?" Sango asked at once.

"Too much." Miroku sighed. "They'll be here soon. We only have two choices… there's no way we can run now, Sango, we'll be caught."

Sango nodded, trembling slightly.

"We can either hide, or I'll fight them while you run."

"We hide." she said instantly.

"Sango… I would feel better if…"

She stopped him with a shake of her head. "We're hiding, Miroku, and that's that. I won't let you fight them alone… and I never want to see you kill again, let alone be killed."

Miroku sighed, opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. He could hear voices echoing in the passageways. They were here.

Sango looked at him calmly. "Where are we hiding, Miroku?"

"Follow me." he crossed the room, and slid aside a case of musical instruments. Behind it was a dark passageway.

Sango shivered, but followed him inside.

Miroku took one last look at his Swan Room. It had been his only solace for many, many years. Music had been his one true love, the only thing that was good in his life. With a sigh of sadness, he slid the case back into place and locked it. Sango was with him now, and he would give it all up for her.

"Miroku," she asked softly, "Where does this passageway lead?"

He frowned. "It used to be a way out, but now it's a dead end. The ceiling collapsed, to my shame. I think it was the first time I ever made anything that didn't work as it was supposed to."

Sango hid a grin at his obvious dislike of imperfection, and didn't say anything about it.

A moment later, there was a heart-stopping crash as the door to the Swan Room shattered. Sango gasped, and then bit her lip until it bled.

The sounds of destruction were almost more than she could bear, and she could only imagine how Miroku felt.

Miroku carefully kept the emotions from his face, not wanting to upset Sango. Every shatter he heard pierced his heart, and he immediately knew exactly what had been broken.

He counted them off in his mind. The coffin… the cases of instruments…the violin…

The list went on and on, but he stood quietly and took it all.

At least, until he heard the echoing clang of metal on metal. The sound vibrated through him and shook him to the core, making Miroku collapse to his knees. The organ! A cry of pain escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Fortunately, no one heard it over the sounds of destruction but Sango.

Miroku was now crying silently. This had been his life. Everything he knew… everything he loved… was gone. Everything, that is, except Sango. He wouldn't lose her now by being foolish and giving away their hiding place.

Miroku shut his eyes and tried to block out the terrible sounds, but it was impossible.

The next hour was one of the worst in his entire life. It was worse than his mother refusing to kiss him, worse than the gypsies tormenting, worse than the looks of fear on people's faces when they saw him. No, it was worse by far. In this hour, the only happiness that Miroku had ever had in his tortured life was being shattered, little by little.

At long last, the sounds stopped.

"He's not here!" Someone cried out.

There were several faint responses, but Miroku didn't catch them.

Then, there was a long, blissful silence.

After about a half an hour, Sango bent down and gently helped Miroku to his feet. She was pale and shaking, and there were streaks down her face left by fallen tears.

"Miroku, they're gone. They left a while ago."

He took a shaky breath. "You're sure? All of them?"

Sango nodded.

"Then…then I suppose…I'll have to face it sometime…"

He closed his eyes as Sango unlocked the hidden passageway, and pushed the case aside. She gasped.

Miroku kept his eyes closed tightly, not wanting to see what he knew he would when he opened them.

"Miroku…don't look." Sango choked. "I'll lead you out… please don't look…"

But Miroku couldn't stop himself. Immediately, his eyes opened. He cried out in anguish, and Sango ran to him.

Miroku leaned on her for support as he surveyed the damage. The mob had destroyed everything, down to the smallest scrap of music.

The organ was smashed, the cases of instruments were shattered, and their contents strewn around and broken. All of the sheet music he had written had been burned, and there were scorch marks on the walls from where the mob had apparently attempted to burn the room down.

They didn't bother checking through the other rooms of the house. It was bad enough having to leave through the ones they did.

Every piece of art was completely destroyed. Nothing had been spared.

Miroku tried not to look as he walked by, but he couldn't help but hope that something, something, had survived.

But nothing had.

Finally, they reached the lake. Sango wanted to go back to her dressing room. The boat, which Miroku had hid, was surprisingly still intact. It was the only thing that made it.

Miroku turned for one last look at the place that had been his home for so many years. It was cold and empty, and the doors swayed softly on the hinges, some slightly crooked. Most of the windows were broken, and in one of the higher rooms, someone had managed to set at least one of the rooms on fire.

Miroku turned away, trying to ignore the pain. That was his old life, he had to let it go…if not for his sake, then at least for Sango's.

Sango looked up at him, and then back at the house. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Miroku…I'm really, really sorry."

Miroku shook his head. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

Reaching out to him, Sango placed both hands on Miroku's chest and, pushing herself up on her toes, pressed her lips to his. It was the only thing that she could think to do. He needed comfort.

Miroku's lips tasted of tears, and she felt his entire body stiffen at her contact. She pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were lost, frightened, and filled with such a desperate longing, pleading her to love him. He had lost everything…he couldn't lose her too.

Sango's tears now mingled with Miroku's as their lips fused, one forlorn soul finding and molding with another. Heat spread from his lips throughout her body. Sango's body was static at his touch. Within the kiss she poured everything she felt, confusion, misery, passion, and love; for her father, for him… for this tortured creature that lived off her own self. Her mind was lost in a whirl of color and fire; Sango felt her pulse race and her skin grow hot.

When Miroku pulled away, she suddenly felt more alone than ever, even empty. She stared at him in stupefaction as he wept.

His choked voice broke the silence: "Sango…" He turned and scuffled through the rubble, picking up the newfound music box and opening its lid. The tune was severely damaged, but the melody was still burned within Miroku's mind. He laughed sadly at it, trying to wipe away his tears.

Sango gazed at Miroku's back, his figure somewhat slumped, watching the monkey weakly clap its cymbals together. His voice was weak with crying.

"Masquerade...paper faces on parade – masquerade…hide your face, the world will never find you…"

A wave of sorrow passed over Sango as she realized how strongly those words related to him, how much they must mean…

She moved forward slightly, and he caught sight of her. Sango saw grief beyond his years wrought in his face, like a man who has lost all will to live, and he probably had. He looked at her in wonderment, as though he wasn't sure if she was really there, he seemed to be in a daze. Sango opened her mouth to say something, anything, but not even her voice could save her now.

His form strengthened in a faint, last hope.

He needed to know, now more than ever… Miroku needed to be sure…

"Sango, I love you."

Sango let out a strangled sob. All he had done, all she had done, and his simple final statement shed light on it all. For the first true time, without any confusion or questioning, Sango saw Miroku not as the Opera Ghost or an angel, nor a murderer or a phantom, but a man, willing to do all in his power to keep the woman he loved beside him.

She came to stand beside him, their eyes never leaving each other's as she moved forward, twisting the ring on her finger. Sango kneeled beside Miroku, and cautiously reached out to remove his mask. He flinched as her hand brushed over his deformed cheek. "Please," she whispered. "Miroku, it's all right. Don't hide your face from me. Why, after all we've been through… " Sango made a small smile as she watched Miroku relax. She let her fingers run over the raised veins and welts on his cheek, over his drooping eyelid and sunken-in nose. She stroked each disfigurement with loving tenderness, and he stared at her in amazement. Then, closing his eyes, he sighed in pleasure.

Sango took his face in both hands. "Miroku," she breathed.

"Sango," he looked at her, his eyes burning brightly with some unidentifiable emotion. Something in her voice…something he had never heard, yet longed to hear… "Why?"

She smiled sadly. "Who was that shape in the shadows…? Whose is the face in the mask…?" She let her hands gradually drop away, but his face lingered there, missing her touch. "Now that my eyes behold him…I do lo-" Her voice caught in her throat. She stood and turned away with a deep blush on her cheeks and new tears forming in her eyes.

Hesitantly, Miroku reached forward and lightly touched her arm. He was being as gentle as he could, afraid she would recoil, but she barely moved, only glanced at him over her shoulder. With her back to him, she spoke again, softly at first, then with mounting ardor. "How his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound, in that night there was music in my mind…" Suddenly, a desperate look filled her eyes, and she whirled around. "And from music, my soul began to soar!"

Miroku saw the same awe-inspired look in her eyes that she had had when he first came to her. "And I heard, as I've never heard before…"

"Why? Why do you see me as an Angel," Miroku said lowly, "when I can never be anything but a beast?"

"No other could ever recreate what I've felt those nights…those nights when I'm with you." She grasped his shaking hand and placed it over her heart, "What was here. That sounds like the works of an Angel to me, doesn't it?"

He stared at his hand in wonder. Then, after a moment of his harsh breathing, Miroku said quietly, "Sango, I…I only wish for you to be happy." He stroked her hair lovingly. "You are saying that you wish to run away with me? A life of constant hiding," he thought about the situation thoroughly for the very first time. "you can't want that." Miroku squeezed her hand. "Go."

Sango blinked and locked her hazel orbs on his cobalt ones. "What?"

"Go now, and leave me…" Miroku's voice was filled with misery as he tore his eyes away.

Sango did not stir. And though nothing had changed, there was something…the way her eyes glittered, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she longed to push her body into his…

"Miroku…I'm not leaving."

He looked at her again.

"I love you."

And, in the moment, Miroku felt his heart stop just for a second.

"I love you, Miroku." Sango repeated more strongly, wrapping her arms around his torso in a tight embrace. "Please…don't you even think of leaving here without me." She nuzzled her face into his chest.

Miroku then produced a serious of happy sobs into her hair. It came to him then. He had been so rudely interrupted before...

"Say you'll share with me…one love…one lifetime…"

Sango breathed in sharply. She waited apprehensively for the doubts to flood her head. But none came. There was nothing left to consider.

She smiled in her tears. "Say the word and I will follow you…"

Miroku sighed in joy and relief. "Share each day with me, each night…each morning…" He grasped her hands and pulled her to him. "Say you love me…"

"Miroku," she tilted her head up. "I swear I do…"

Miroku's entire face was transformed from the crushed man just minutes ago. His face glowed with rejoice and disbelieving happiness. "You alone can make my song take flight…" He placed his thumb and forefinger underneath Sango's chin and brought her full, red lips to his in a captivating kiss.

And as their lips parted, Sango murmured gently, "My Angel…let me lead you to the light…"

A/N: This is NOT the last chapter! Don't cry just yet!