Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this rainy morning scenario... especially for the one who's been suffering in silence. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.
Early Riser
Sango's umbrella was the color of the sky on a fine day... which this was not. It had been raining nonstop since she returned with Kohaku, and she was beginning to think the sun had forgotten how to shine. Heartily weary of trudging through the wet to get to classes, she nonetheless took to the streets extra early on Friday morning. The only class scheduled for today was an afternoon lab, and she was on the evening shift for work... so she planned to take full advantage of her morning off by spending it with Kohaku. He's been a good sport about my schedule, but... I think he's getting a little stir crazy. Drizzle as fine as mist pattered softly overhead as she hurried on her errand of mercy.
Her dorm was only a few blocks from Founder's, but the nearest market was roughly the same distance in the opposite direction. These will chase away his blues, she decided with satisfaction as splurged on the kinds of things Kohaku liked best. Sango kept a sharp eye out for puddles, but by the time she backtracked across campus to the coffee shop, she was feeling distinctly waterlogged. Cradling her bulging paper sack inside her jacket, she had to use her foot to 'knock' on the back door. "Good morning," she greeted softly when Inuyasha opened it.
"I know you usually turn up early, but this is a little extreme," he replied with a smirk, stepping aside so she could enter. She fumbled with her load, and the hanyou rescued her umbrella, giving it a shake before propping it in the corner. "You don't start until four."
"I know," she replied, easing the grocery sack out from under her coat. "I thought I'd have breakfast with my brother this morning... if that's okay?"
"Sure," Inuyasha agreed easily.
Shippo leaned through the door to the front and cheerfully called, "Hey there, Sango! Want a cup to warm you up?"
"That would be nice," she sighed. She hovered beside the back door, reluctant to track through the fussy owner's work space; however, she noticed that Sesshoumaru's desk had been cleared. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him in a few days. "Is your brother out of town again?"
"Yeah, he's at some coffee-grower's convention... Jamaica this time, I think."
"I'll bet it's sunny there," Sango remarked wistfully. "I wish this rain would let up."
"No kidding! It's been way too dreary for springtime," Shippo complained, popping back in and handing Sango an extra large paper cup. "One mocha to go!"
"Weather like this is good for business," Inuyasha chided.
"Cooped up and over-worked... what's not to love?" the kitsune cheekily replied before trotting back to the register.
The hanyou shook his head, then fished a set of keys out of his pocket. "I need to get back out there, so you go ahead and let yourself in. Make yourself at home."
"Thanks!" she smiled. With her bag tucked in the crook of her arm, and coffee in hand, she waved the keys and ducked back outside, taking advantage of a second-floor deck to protect her from the elements during the short jaunt to Inuyasha's door.
Back in the coffee shop, Shippo turned from the register with a sly look at his boss. "Don't you think you shoulda warned her about your other house guest?"
The hanyou blinked. "Oh... yeah." The kitsune snickered, and Inuyasha heaved a sigh. "Well, it's too late now, and it's not as if he'll give them any trouble. He'll sleep through just about anything."
"Wanna bet she'll be peeved anyhow?" Shippo sweetly inquired.
Sango ditched her wet shoes at the bottom of the narrow stairs that led to Inuyasha's apartment and padded up in her stocking feet. The hanyou's home was modest in size, but no expense had been spared in fitting it out. Sesshoumaru's high-end preferences could be seen in the underpinnings—rich-looking hardwood floors, specialty windows, and a chef-caliber kitchen that was wasted on a tenant who only knew how to boil water. The rooms were sparsely furnished, and it was readily apparent that Inuyasha was a person with simple tastes... and long-standing habits. He read the paper, ate ramen, and knew a thing or two about martial arts; according to Kohaku, the hanyou's living area did double-duty as a dojo. Apparently, Inuyasha also took off every night for a lengthy run around the campus, used the window almost as much as the door when coming and going, and received a brief phone call from his brother every day.
The hush in the apartment suggested that her brother was still abed, so Sango tiptoed towards the kitchen. She was halfway there when a soft noise caught her off-guard, and she glanced in the direction of the sound. From where she was standing, she could see was one bare foot draped over the couch's arm. Who...? Cautiously, Sango edged close enough to peek over the back of the sofa.
Miroku was sprawled on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped across his bare chest. At some point during the night, he'd lost his blankets; only the corner of a comforter with royal blue and white stripes covered the essentials. Sango backed away, hardly daring to breath, then scurried to the kitchen. What is he doing here?
She placed her grocery sack onto the counter and took a long, bracing drink of coffee, smiling when she realized that Shippo must have doubled the chocolate for her. Miroku did have the late shift last night. Maybe he didn't want to head home in the rain? Deciding to check on Kohaku, Sango snuck back through the living area and paused for a second peep... which prolonged into more of an ogle. Miroku didn't look especially comfortable in the cramped sleeping conditions, but he slept deeply, his mouth slightly open. Warm, golden skin. Sleep-rumpled hair. She hardly noticed that she was creeping closer until she was actually hovering over him, cataloging more points of interest. Dark, curling lashes. Two piercings in his left ear. He was oblivious to her scrutiny, so she dared to indulge her curiosity further. Long, square-tipped fingers. Well-defined muscles. An innie.
Sango was just reaching for the edge of the comforter when Kohaku caught her. "Sis?" he called in a sleepy voice. "What're you doing here?"
Straightening quickly, she answered, "I was just going to... uhh... cover him up. He looked... cold."
"M'kay," he shrugged, then disappeared into the bathroom.
She glanced warily at Miroku, who slumbered on. Taking care not to jostle him, Sango gathered up the fallen blankets to make good on her assertion. To her relief, he was clothed, albeit sparsely, and as she gently tucked him back in, he hummed appreciatively and turned on his side to burrow his face into his pillow. His breathing settled back into an even rhythm within moments. He's really out of it.
"Why is Miroku here?" she asked Kohaku when he joined her in the kitchen a few minutes later.
"We stayed up late last night watching DVDs, and Inuyasha told him he could crash here," her brother explained.
"What kinds of movies did you watch?" she asked suspiciously.
Kohaku was already up to his elbows in the paper sack, eyes bright with excitement over his finds. "They weren't really movies. He brought a whole mess of documentaries... about youkai. Did you know that lots of demons have a primary animal form? Inuyasha says his brother can actually turn into a huge dog!"
"That's... incredibly hard to imagine," Sango admitted.
"Inuyasha says that Sesshoumaru has silver fur and that he can fly!"
"Hmm... sounds too cute to be true."
Kohaku wrinkled his freckled nose and added, "He also has glowing red eyes, massive fangs, and poison drool!"
"That's more like it," Sango laughed, but quickly tried to smother the sound. "Oops... we don't want to wake Miroku."
"Inuyasha says he sleeps like a log. I wouldn't worry."
If he says 'Inuyasha says' one more time, I'm going to have to suspect puppy love, Sango thought bemusedly. I'm so glad he's found someone to look up to.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed, having discovered small bundles of fresh mushrooms and asparagus.
"Do you have enough to work with?" she asked. "I wasn't sure what he'd have on hand."
"Inuyasha's got all the best equipment; I had to wash a few years' worth of dust off of it, though," Kohaku confided. "But the pantry's totally empty; he doesn't even have the basics."
"We could go shopping after breakfast if you want," she offered.
The teen immediately grinned. Pulling a chef's knife out of the block on the counter and giving it a practiced twirl, he asked, "So what'll it be, Sis?"
"Surprise me," she smiled.
Miroku's stomach rumbled insistently, dragging the man from unconsciousness far earlier than was his wont. The crick in his neck was a sure sign that he was on Inuyasha's couch, but the hanyou's home usually smelled of coffee and... coffee. His sleep-fogged brain slowly caught up with his appetite as he registered the soft clatter and low chatter coming from nearby. Eyes half-closed, he pushed to sitting and ran fingers through messy hair, then followed his nose towards the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame, absently scratching his stomach as he took in the domestic scene. The Sakamoto siblings had their backs to him, heads together as they peered into the oven. They're close; it's understandable, I suppose. I'm glad they have each other. Sango bent over and stabbed a perfectly-rounded muffin with a toothpick, and Miroku tilted his head to contemplate the perfectly-rounded curve of her backside.
As if sensing his lingering gaze, she glanced over her shoulder and gave him a wary once-over. "Good morning," she pronounced with careful neutrality.
Kohaku turned and offered a bashful, "Hey."
"Mmm... mornin'," he returned lazily. "I had no idea Inuyasha owned an apron."
The teen looked down at the plain white apron and smiled a little self-consciously. "Actually, this is mine. Umm... are you hungry?"
"Starved," Miroku amiably replied. Realizing that he was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung navy sweats that had been cut off at the knees, he excused himself, saying, "I'll just wash up." A few minutes later, he returned with combed hair and the addition of a t-shirt with the university logo on it. Three places were set at the table, and he slid into a chair to watch brother and sister finish pulling together an impressive little brunch. Violet eyes drifted towards the clock and widened. Make that breakfast. He couldn't remember the last time he'd willingly been up before eight.
As Sango placed a plate of muffins in the middle of the table, he smiled and said, "It looks like you could give my family a run for their money!"
"Not me," she corrected. "Cooking is Kohaku's area of expertise."
The youth lowered his eyes and demurred, "These aren't anything special; Sango brought a mix."
"This cannot be a commercial mix," Miroku asserted and snagged a muffin.
"I sorta doctored it up a little," Kohaku admitted, flushing to the tips of his ears.
"Right out of recognition," Miroku countered, testing the crumble topping before breaking it open to find the muffin was studded with fruit. "What did you add?"
"Rhubarb."
Miroku took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, then said, "Ginta would love you." At the boy's obvious confusion, he added, "He rules the kitchen in my family's bakery; I'll have to bring you over and introduce you to my pack."
Sango sat down across from Miroku. "I thought it was Kouga's bakery."
"Mm-hmm... it is. Kouga's the manager of Peep's, but Ginta's the lead baker." When a decidedly professional-looking plate of savory crepes was placed in front of him, Miroku whistled. "Hidden talents like these should never remain hidden."
"You never offered to help Inuyasha cook?" Sango asked her brother curiously.
"Uhh... no," Kohaku admitted sheepishly.
A thought occurred to Miroku, and with an amused twinkle, he asked, "How many times did you have to eat ramen this week?"
The teen fidgeted. "Inuyasha ordered pizza once," he hedged.
"So that means... seven times? Or did he give you ramen for breakfast, too?"
"Why didn't you say anything!" Sango exclaimed.
Kohaku shrugged, and Miroku chuckled. "Inuyasha can't cook, and you obviously love to. I predict you'll be alpha male of this kitchen by day's end."
"Really?"
"Trust me! As soon as he catches a whiff of this, he'll be providing room, and you'll be handling board."
The teen's brown eyes swept the kitchen with an anticipatory gleam. "That'd be cool."
Miroku took his time over breakfast, wanting the meal to last for as long as possible. He hung back conversationally and listened as the siblings caught up on their week. Kohaku made sure he had plenty to eat, and Sango wasn't giving him the cold shoulder. Even if it was just because they were being hospitable, he was glad to be included. Another idea struck him, and he smiled because he could picture Hakkaku getting all misty-eyed over this quaint, familial scene. If everything goes according to plan, this is the beginning of my very own pack. He gazed fondly at Sango, who'd pushed back her plate and was compiling a shopping list with businesslike efficiency while Kohaku rattled off the names of herbs and spices with a dreamy expression in his eyes. Mine. The notion pleased Miroku immensely.
End Note: This oneshot was written for the Live Journal community mirsan(underscore)fics, Prompt #12, Blue. I worked in a few shades... but missed the entry deadline (again). Alas and alack! Posted on August 17, 2009. 2,253 words.