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Perhaps I try to hard to ignore the feelings I harbor for him. Perhaps I should forget him…perhaps I should continue this charade we've created for one another. I know he hasn't any affection towards me as I have towards him. He is a monk, a lecherous monk, who likes to tease me.
In the beginning, I thought he was just another idiotic guy. He was annoying and constantly fondling me. It was an amazement to me that he hadn't lost any brain damage for how many times I hit him.
As the fondling continued, however, I discovered that I enjoyed his attention. I longed for him to touch me and for me to punish him. Even if he just was playing, I adored the attention. I began to watch him obsessively. I would pull him away and punish him for asking other women to bear his children.
I could tell I confused him, for when he asked me if I wanted to bear his children, I refused. It was a game to us, to play but not touch. To tease, but not give in, even if it was teasing, I still fell pathetically in love with him, leave it to me to do such a foolish thing.
I knew that I had no chance with him. I was a fighting companion, not a housewife. I didn't have proper etiquette training as other women did. The moment I could walk, father trained me to slay demons. Such feminine training wasn't necessary in his eyes.
Thus, I was taunted in the village as a girl. I was called humiliating names and many young girls were afraid of me. I had male friends however, which didn't help, but make me an awkward tomboy.
Even today, I still consider myself that odd little girl, who knew what kind of poison could paralyze certain demons, rather than how to fold a napkin when setting the table.
And that is why he doesn't love me. I would be too much trouble to him. At first, it seemed he loved me. His innocent smiles and witty expressions forced his way into me. My heart warmed every time he nuzzled my hand, murmuring soft words of incoherent love. I tried to ignore the odd feelings he gave me, knowing that if I didn't I would pay. However, I couldn't keep him out of my mind. By then, he had grown bored of me and followed other women.
I was heartbroken, realizing he had probably noticed my inexperience with men. I grew angry and punished him, dragging him away as he protested, his smug grin still plastered on his face. He knew what he was doing to me.
I watch him constantly now, taking in every little movement he makes, scrutinizing at every detail he murmurs, searching somehow for some meaning. But it always ends up the same…he doesn't love me.
I tried to ignore it at first, the cold, chilling feeling left in myself. I would cry some nights, hoping that he would come and whisper to me in my sleep, telling me that he truly did care for me. I would turn in my futon, as I am doing now and wait for something that would never come. And with that I grew distant from him, trying to ignore my pain. I watched him from afar.
I turned over in agitation in my futon, thinking of him made me sick. I tried frantically to close my eyes and sleep or contemplate something rather than him. When all else failed I sat up and walked out onto the porch.
It was cool out; I shivered immediately feeling the contrast between my warm bedroom and the frigid outside. A small gust of wind blew across the large property of the lord that we had been residing at for the night.
I watched a leaf glide in the wind and gasped, seeing it gently land at the feet of him.
He had a solemn look on his face. I could tell he was contemplating something serous. His lavender eyes were concentrated on his right hand. He flexed his hand, as if the cursed Kazana would swallow him whole right there. I gasped, knowing that he was probably contemplating his horrific death and wondered why he hadn't noticed me yet.
A gust of wind blew once again and I shivered involuntarily. He had to have been cold too. I shook my head, cursing myself for having concern for him.
I walked toward him, wondering vaguely why he didn't notice me. I laced my hands across my front and moved them along my sides, nervously wondering where to put them.
"Hoshi-sama," I whispered finally, his head jerked up, cautiously. He turned around, his eyes hidden beneath his ebony locks, as if he were ashamed. I gulped, watching his lips part, as if he were thinking of a reply.
"Yes Lady Sango?" He asked, his voice less calm than usual. I jumped hearing my name and continued to fiddle with my hands. I couldn't understand why I was so nervous around him.
"It's late; you really should consider sleeping tonight." I managed to say…stuttering slightly. He didn't seem to notice however. I quickly took a step back, too frightened that he might notice my awkwardness.
"Yes, perhaps you are right." He stated dismally, while standing up. He turned to me once again, glancing down at my dancing hands. I gulped, quickly hiding them behind my back. He ignored the gesture. "I am rather tired."
He walked past me, not even making the slightest inkling that I was there. Again I was ignored. Again I was left in the cold.
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