Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha; this is only a fanfic.
Authors Notes: Hi everyone and Happy Holidays! Chapter 9 is now up. I would like to take this opportunity to inform all readers this chapter contains lemony themes. With that in mind, if they are not your forte then, please forego the ending or skip this chapter altogether and resume at chapter 10.
Note: thoughts are in italics
WARNING: SPOILER & LEMON CONTENTS
Chapter 9: Discreet Nuptials
The sun sets low in the sky as Kohaku moves quickly through the forest. Naraku has ensured a difficult departure. The ambush begins as soon as Kanna's body disappears and his minions are relentless. Having to fight his way clear of the cliff, they appear at each point throughout the forest.
"He's always one step ahead of us, but we'll defeat him; we have no choice."
Kohaku is exhausted, but he must get back. He and Kikyou have to complete the second phase of their plan and time is of the essence.
The taijiya wondered if the priestess was successful in obtaining the sword she sought. Midoriko's legendary weapon had aided the ancient priestess in many a battle; Kikyou felt its powers could be of use against their foe.
Naraku…
It does not take a genius to figure out what the vile self-proclaimed hanyou is scheming. It has always been his goal to procure the rank of a full-fledged demon. With each new stage of development or acquired power, Naraku tests his skills on none other than Sesshomaru. By absorbing the completed Shikon no Tama, it is Naraku's desire to surpass the taiyoukai lord in both power and status.
With the others, it is more of a personal matter, especially Kikyou.
While still in his service, but not under his control, Kohaku was aware of Naraku's animosity for the priestess. He did not fully understand the particulars, just knew Naraku felt it necessary to rid himself of Onigumo's human heart.
With the demonic absorption of his body, Onigumo's intense covetousness towards the priestess had manifested itself into the now prominent being that was Naraku. His presence manipulated and conspired against Kikyou and Inuyasha. Naraku also suppressed Onigumo's mortal soul, entombing him in a veil of slumber.
As well as Kikyou, Naraku also pursued Kagome, the strangely dressed young miko. He would use her to find the remaining shards and eliminate her once that was done. He would use her as he used Kagura and Kanna.
Then there was Anu-ue… why were he and his family, his village, the recipients of this destructive binge of hatred.
Naraku used the demons detestation of the Taijiya's to attack his home. It was Naraku, who infested him with the malice of the possessed lord to kill his father and comrades; it was Naraku, who set him against his own sister, to strike her down as if she were nothing.
Kohaku planned to avenge her… for every tear Anu-ue shed, for every horrid act she witnessed on his behalf; he would crush Naraku. He vowed that with his life… or rather his soul.
Feeling revived by the surge of emotion, Kohaku's feet seems to fly as he approaches the edge of the forest. However, the taijiya knows he is not yet clear. He knows they are there, Naraku's minions; waiting.
His jaw set with determination, Kohaku lashes out at the first demon daring to rear its head.
Mushin looks across the temple lawns to the two dark heads bent together. The fight has ended between the young couple, but there is still a dispute.
"Who won?" Hachi inquires, hoping its Sango. The tanuki has not the money to neither cover the bet nor purchase the sake.
Mushin raises a hand to silence Hachi, trying to grasp pieces of the conversation going on between Miroku and Sango.
The taijiya's hands are clasped together and she looks up at the monk in an appealing manner. Miroku steps back, only to move forward, grabbing Sango's shoulders and pulling her to him. Both speak rapidly, almost simultaneously. The monk shakes his head negatively.
Abruptly, Sango turns, walking way from Miroku. The monk looks up at the sky, takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair before following. Catching up, he pulls her around to face him.
More words are exchanged; body language and facial expressions indicate each is making a point and each holding their ground. Raising a finger, Miroku appears to admonish Sango as one would a child. It seems to work, she backs down and hangs her head, but only for a second. An instant later, Sango hands make a cutting motion, shaking her head vehemently. This time the monk hangs his head.
Sango takes off again, headed for the temple stairs with purposeful strides. Miroku follows, but at a slower pace.
As they approach, Mushin notices the demon slayers forlorn expression. He looks behind her to Miroku, whose face is unreadable, even to Mushin.
Sango slowly mounts the stairs, reaching the older monk he puts out a restraining hand.
"Sango-chan… are you alright?"
She looks to Mushin with a wry smile and nods, moving to continue into the temple when Miroku's voice stops her.
"Mushin-sama?" he calls from the temple grounds. He has chosen not to follow the taijiya.
All three, Mushin, Hachi and Sango, stop to hear what Miroku has to say.
"It appears we are to have a wedding this evening," the monk announces.
Other than a gasp from Sango, no one else responds; Miroku continues.
"Sango and I have decided to expedite our engagement and hold a small private ceremony here. Can you accommodate us, Mushin-sama, on such short notice?"
Finally roused from his stupor, Mushin chuckles, "Of course, son." Whatever he has expected, it is not this.
Miroku's gaze holds Sango's in silent communication. His message transforms the taijiya; her dull eyes start to sparkle and that smile from a moment ago becomes genuine. Transmitting her own voiceless message, Miroku answers with a smile of his own.
"I will go and prepare." Sango whispers softly. Entering the temple, she seems to float on air.
"Would you mind handling things here, Mushin-sama?" Miroku's eyes stray towards the waterfall. "Hachi and I will prepare father's dojo."
The tanuki, who has been shocked into silence, finally comes to life. He jogs over to stand by Miroku's side, awaiting instructions.
Although surprised by the urgency, Mushin is ecstatic about the outcome. However, his paternal instinct keeps his expression neutral as he asks, "Are you sure about this, Miroku?"
"There is nothing I will deny Sango, Mushin… and I'm also tired of denying myself."
"I'm afraid I must insist, Ayame," the elder of the white wolf clan speaks out.
"Please, grandfather," the she-wolf beseeches, "my presence is hardly necessary."
The elder leader understands his granddaughter's feelings; Kouga's rejection of Ayame is now well known throughout the clan.
"I did not raise a coward, Ayame," the elder's voice is stern. "You will accompany me to see Kouga this evening!"
Ayame turns her back and her grandfather is met with a stony silence. She is reluctant, but she will obey him.
"We can't hide from the world when our desires or goals are not met," her grandfather states. "We set new ones to obtain and move forward. Do you understand, Ayame? "
"Yes, grandfather," she responds, the respect evident in her tone. "Set new goals; move forward," she reiterates.
Facing her grandfather, Ayame's eyes take on a dangerous gleam. "My new goal… is to become the first alpha-female to lead her pack without a mate!"
The elder is taken aback by the absurdity of his grandchild's statement. That is not how their society works. First, oblivious of her beauty, Ayame has no idea the number of suitors she will have once Kouga is out of the way.
Ayame has been allowed the leisure of freely choosing a mate only because of their status in the clan. As his only grandchild, the elder can now see he has overindulged her. Upon his death, either she will be forced to choose a mate hastily or one will be chosen for her. He will have to guide her carefully from now on; however, this is not the time to discourage her.
Instead of revealing his true thoughts, the elder gives Ayame an encouraging nod.
"That's my girl!"
Kikyou and Rin browse the surrounding area. The priestess spends time pointing out to the child which plants are edible and which are poisonous. Kikyou is amazed at how quickly Rin learns and retains information. The little girl absorbs knowledge like sponge does water.
As Rin revels in the herbage, Kikyou worries about Kohaku. She expects him to return soon.
The taijiya is sort of an enigma to her. The priestess knows, like her, Kohaku is also a victim of Naraku's trickery. The specific details are vague and Kohaku has chosen to keep it that way. She will respect that, although the boys' quiet, good-natured countenance belies his suffering.
Sadly, there is no guarantee Kohaku will not suffer more before this is over. For all her planning, Kikyou cannot foresee the ending.
To have formed an attachment for the boy was unwise. Kikyou once told him she had no means of saving him. Kohaku responded by saying he did not deserve to live; he only wanted to avenge his family.
"Kikyou-sama!"
Rin's shriek snaps her out of her thoughts. She turns to find the child backing away from the rustling bushes. Something or someone is there.
Grabbing Rin by the back of her yukata, Kikyou pulls the child behind her. Without her bow and arrows, she hopes her spiritual powers have re-energized enough to protect them.
Kikyou's eyes are intent on the moving foliage. It has almost reached the clearing; the priestess braces herself as the taijiya falls through the brush.
"Kohaku!" both she and Rin shout.
The boy is wounded, on his hands and knees, his breathing rapid. Kikyou and Rin reach his side. From the location of his wounds, the priestess can tell the demons were after the jewel shard in his back.
Rolling him on his side, Kikyou senses Sesshomaru's aura as he joins them. He must have responded to Rin's shout. Ignoring him, the priestess focuses on Kohaku's injuries.
"S-sorry I… I couldn't get back sooner," the taijiya manages to croak out.
"Shh!" Kikyou places a gentle hand to his lips, "There's no need for an apology, Kohaku. You're back now and that's all that matters."
Turning to Rin, the priestess summons a smile, "This is your second patient today; is it not?"
The child looks to Kohaku, her brow marred with worry.
"Will you keep an eye on him for me?" Kikyou asks, rising. "I need to fetch water and find cloth for bandages. Will you stay with him?"
Rin gives an affirmative nod, kneeling beside Kohaku.
Arigatou, Rin-chan!"
Sango sits in front of the ornaments table. She has removed the wedding kimono and has changed into a simple white robe. Having removed her hair ornaments, she sits and brushes her hair, reflecting on her nuptials.
The wedding was small, with only the couple, Mushin, Hachi and Kirara in attendance.
Mushin was impressive in his ceremonial robes; Hachi graced the festivities by adeptly playing the flute.
The ceremony began with Mushin purifying the couple; reciting their vows followed this. The custom of the bride and groom sharing sake ended the ceremony.
The reception started out a very cordial affair. Food was plentiful. Various dishes were placed before the couple. Sango blushed furiously when told which ones would boost her fertility; Miroku, however, could not stop grinning. After several cups of sake, both the tanuki and Mushin became a bit boisterous.
"Another cup for the new bride!" Mushin announced, his words slightly slurred. He poured the taijiya a generous portion.
Not particularly liking the taste, Sango did not want to dampen the festivities by refusing. As she reached for the cup, Miroku gingerly placed his hand over the top.
"You won't need that," he said softly, his eyes holding Sango's gaze. Enfolding her hand with his, he pulled her to her feet.
"I will take care of these two," he stated, indicating Mushin and Hachi.
Miroku looked quite handsome in his wedding attire; the blue haroi accentuating the eyes that held such promise.
Tracing her lips with his fingertips, he asked, "Will you go and wait for me, Sango." His desire communicating itself to her, "I won't be long."
Snapping back to the present, Sango resumes her grooming.
She has no doubts about marrying Miroku, but feels a twinge of guilt that Kagome and the others are not here to share in her joy. Sango is sure, at least, Kagome will understand. No matter how much she has denied it, the young miko has known of her feelings for the monk and not once has her friend exposed her.
Sango stands walks over and slides open the shoji. The sun is setting; the horizon is alight with the brilliant colors of cooper and orange. Stepping on the veranda, she leans on the balustrade drinking in the sight.
"Beautiful," Sango sighs.
"Yes, it is… although, it dulls in comparison to my wife."
Startled, Sango looks over the rail to see Miroku sitting atop Kirara. Floating up to her, she notes the monk has changed from his wedding attire and is dressed similar to her.
"There is something I would like you to see." Miroku says. Navigating Kirara closer, he extends his hand. "Come with me, Sango."
The taijiya places her hand in his; Miroku gently pulls her over the railing and positions her on his lap, his arms encircling her waist. The monk nudges the youkai cat into flight.
Kirara takes them above the waterfall where the land extends into a plateau. They glide along the waters edge until a single dojo with a bamboo forest in the background comes into view.
"Oh…" Sango breathes "…how quaint."
"I'm glad you like it," Miroku says close to her ear. "This place… is my home."
Ayame sits quietly as her grandfather converses with Kouga. Although he is listening intently to the elder, the wolf youkai secretly watches Ayame. Looking at her now, she appears obedient and docile, but Kouga knows better.
Beneath that aloof exterior is a fiery temper that matches the fire in front of them. Her hair is radiant tonight, Kouga notices. The fires warmth seems to cast a glow of the she-wolf, highlighting each contour of her slender, but shapely frame.
"…I said, do you not think so, Kouga." The elder repeats himself.
"Ah… yeah, yeah!" the wolf youkai tries unravel his thoughts, "I'm sorry, Elder, it must be the medicine."
"That's quite alright," the elder says, rising. "We should not keep you from your rest. I'll come again tomorrow."
Before her grandfather can voice it properly, Ayame jumps to her feet.
"No… I didn't mean you had to leave!" Kouga protests and looks in Ayame's direction. She does not say a word, only keeps her eyes averted, eyes that have avoided his all evening. She has not checked on him all day, even the administering of his medicine is left to Ginta and Hakkaku.
"Don't worry Kouga," the elder chuckles, "I'm really the one who needs the rest"
Both the elder and his granddaughter turn to leave, with Ayame practically skipping to the entrance.
"That's the most animated she's been all evening. She is deliberately avoiding me."
Although furious, Kouga addresses the elder in a polite tone, "I'd like a word with Ayame."
The she-wolf's body goes still. Not turning around, she is struggling to maintain the image of indifference.
"Ayame?" the elder questions.
"I did not raise a coward, Ayame!"
Remembering her grandfather's words, with the mask in place, she turns to Kouga.
"Sure," she says offhandedly.
They both watch as the elder leaves the cave. Facing the she-wolf, the wolf youkai starts in right away.
"So… what the hell is your problem?"
"Problem?" Ayame questions. "I don't know what you mean."
"You know damn well what I mean!" Kouga shouts. "You're supposed to be here takin' care of me, and then you leave it to those idiots to medicate me. I sure hope your leadership is better than your doctorin'."
The polite mask crumbles. Ayames eyes sparkle like two gems in her fury.
"I'll-have-you-know…" each point emphasized with her finger poked in Kouga chest, "… I took damned good care of you. You were barely alive when I found you. These idiots, as you call them, are the best friends you have... friends loyal enough to follow you on your self-destructive path."
With a snarl, Ayame bares her fangs, "Besides, don't concern yourself with the way I lead my clan. You forfeited your rights to have any say in the matter, so don't you dare criticize me."
"You claim your destiny is to pursue and vanquish this Naraku, to avenge your comrades. To take Kagome as your mate…" she gives a delicate snort, "…good luck with that one. You have your own life to worry about, Kouga, so stay out of mine!"
The wolf youkai is shocked into silence by her outburst. Ayame is magnificent in her anger, her green eyes flashing. Kouga only wanted to get a rise out of her, but it seems he went overboard. Normally, not one to back down, he must this time. He needs Ayame's help again, so he needs to appease her.
"Listen, kid…" Kouga begins.
"Kid?" Ayame straightens, places a hand on her hip, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.
Unknowingly Kouga's eyes roam approvingly over her form. Noticing this, Ayame's belligerent stance falters. She quickly turns from him; he cannot see the blush staining her cheeks. The she-wolf has to leave; she cannot stay here with him any longer. Just like him to notice her as a woman now, when all is hopeless between them.
Heading for the entrance, Kouga's voice stops her.
"Ayame, I…"
"Shut up!" she barks, "Not another word from you. Good night, Kouga!"
She leaves on a gust of wind and an agitated flick of her tail.
Kouga is stunned, He cannot believe he let her get away with that… dismissing him that manner. Nevertheless, the wolf-youkai smiles slightly.
"The little hellion; she's got quite a temper and such a nice tail too. Yup… it must be the medicine."
Miroku and Sango stand side by side, as they watch Kirara's form disappear in the distance.
"Alone at last," the monk turns to the taijiya.
On their arrival, Miroku gave Sango a quick tour of the house and grounds. The dojo belonged to his parents; it was where his mother gave birth to him. After her death, his father all but neglected the place. Too many memories, he would say, but allowed Miroku free rein once he was old enough.
The monk and the tanuki came before the ceremony to prepare for tonight. The dojo was cleaned, aired and a fresh fire was lit, giving the place a welcoming feel.
Looking into Sango's eyes, Miroku captures her hand bringing it to his lips. She watches, spellbound, as he kisses each knuckle. Enclosing her hand in his, he draws her nearer to the fire.
One of hands reaches out and slides firmly in her hair. Miroku does not realize, until too late, it is the hand bearing the 'Kazaana'.
He moves to pull his hand away, but Sango entraps it, pressing it to her cheek. Eyes closed, she swears she can hear the winds beneath his glove. Winds churning and tumultuous like the emotions inside of her.
"It's alright," Sango whispers, placing a light kiss in the palm of his glove.
Miroku's body jerks in response to the innocent gesture. He looks into her luminous brown eyes reflecting such trust.
His gloved hand continues its quest through her dark tresses, while his other presses into the small of her back, bringing her closer. Sango goes willingly, her arms wrapping around his waist.
Leaning back, Miroku cups her face in his hands, his thumb lightly caressing her lips.
"Sango…," his gaze is hypnotic, "… do you know how long I've waited to hold you like this?"
"Not as long as I've wanted you to," she says shyly.
Sango gasps as Miroku's arms tighten around her, crushing her body to his. His head lowers; the taijiya raises her arms and encircles his neck. Miroku captures her lips in a series of slow succulent kisses. Each one coaxing, teasing and more tempting than the one before.
Breaking the kiss, Sango gives a whimper of protest until she feels Miroku's warm breath at her ear, nipping the delicate flesh. The taijiya's head rolls back, the weight of her hair floating behind her.
With his hands skimming her neck and shoulders, Miroku locates the various pulse points. Parting the top of her robe, his lips seek and his tongue flickers across the beating flesh. Soft sounds of pleasure erupt from Sango's throat.
Sliding the robe from her shoulders, Miroku reluctantly cease nibbling her skin. He steps back to gaze upon her, inhaling sharply. Bared to the waist, Sango is a remarkable sight.
No amount of spying through the bushes while she bathed can do her justice. She is glorious in her nakedness.
His eyes devour her, every curve and every contour. The fire casting shadows in the valley of her cleavage. Miroku can only anticipate his exploration of the sensuous mounds.
To Sango, however, his appraisal takes too long. Uncertainty creeps up her spine. Her body is not flawless, but after treating many of her wounds, Miroku must know this. Self-conscious, Sango moves to cover herself. Gripping her hands, the monk draws her arms to her side.
"Don't deny me this vision," he moans. His hands slide beneath her breast, cupping their fullness. He watches as the taut peaks bloom under his touch.
Sango's body trembles with this new wanton pleasure. Miroku's hands work their magic, dispersing any doubts from the taijiya's mind.
He bends down, his lips closing over the swollen peak. Gently suckling, tasting first one then the other. His administrations cause Sango to cry out in delight, burying her fingers in his hair. The force of her desire has her knees buckling.
Lifting her in his arms, Miroku's lips will not relinquish the hold on the desired prize. He continues to nuzzle her as he lays her on the futon.
Finally, he leans back, observing the splayed hair around her head, the slumberous eyes, and her lips swollen from his kisses. His gaze slides lower, his hands reaching for the obi at her waist.
"I want to see you… every delectable inch," Miroku says, shedding her last article of clothing.
Sango recognizes the hentai right away as his eyes roam freely. Spanning her waist, his hands glide over her flat stomach, her well-rounded hips until he reaches her curved, rounded derriere. His 'yes' comes out in a hiss as he moulds and kneads the smooth flesh.
The taijiya rises to meet him as his touch becomes bolder, her hand automatically going to his cheek, but only to caress it. She reaches for the tie binding his hair, freeing it from the confines.
"You're such a rogue, my husband…" Sango whispers, "… and you're cheating again."
"Oh… how so?" Miroku asks, loving the playfulness in her tone.
"You're still dressed," she giggles shyly.
Giving her that naughty smile that leaves her breathless, Miroku challenges, "So… what are going to do about it?"
Sango raises an eyebrow at his dare, her hand slowly reaching for the tie of his robes. She keeps her eyes on his as the material parts, revealing his broad chest. Sliding the robe from his shoulders, she allows her eyes to follow the path of her hands.
Miroku's body is hard planes and flowing muscle, his skin warm and smooth. Pulling him down to her, she inhales his clean masculine scent. Her hands skim across his neck, back and shoulders planting tiny kisses along the way.
She has no idea, what her inexperienced touch is doing to him. His muscles strain to maintain self-control. His hands start their own exploration, moving urgently and possessively over her.
"Oh, my!" Sango manages to get out, feeling his fingers at her moist center. Urging, stroking, preparing her for the initiation. Sango's body withdraws from the intrusion. Miroku captures her lips once again in a searing kiss, driving all other thoughts from her mind. So enraptured, she is unaware her maidenly barrier has been deftly pierced.
His hands, sure and meticulous, awaken her most erotic fantasies. Sango comes to life under his touch, riding wave after pleasurable wave.
Positioning himself above her, Miroku slowly enters, his pulsating desire filling her.
"One mind"
Completing her.
"One heart"
Consuming them.
"One body"
With each thrust, Miroku feels Sango tighten around him, welcoming him to her warmth and he shudders from the sensation. The soft mewling sounds muffled in his shoulder have his loins aching for release. Holding her, the tension grows, spreading throughout his body.
"Sango… I don't think…"
"Then don't… don't think, Miroku-kun," she whispers, her arms embracing him. "Just feel… feel this with me."
The sound of his name pouring from her lips with such love, such passion pushes him over the edge. They spiral; his movements guiding her, teaching her a rhythm old as time. She holds tight, wrapping her legs around his hips, mating; bonding.
Reaching euphoria in unison, Sango's satiated cries fill the night sky… a sky as dark, blue and endless as her husbands eyes.
To be continued…