"There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures."
William Shakespeare – Julius Caesar
Sango wasn't sure how long she had spent weeping on top of that stone monstrosity. It could have been weeks, months, or even years. Time had no meaning and the only thing she'd been aware of had been her soul retching grief. Staring into the fire she poked it and wasn't surprised to see the flames swirl and dance and form his smiling face.
Tears leaked from her eyes again and she angrily brushed them away. She couldn't get over how weak she was, and it disgusted her.
"Damn you, houshi," she whispered. Beyond her, Michi whimpered in his sleep, but quickly quieted down. She glanced at the boy; made sure he was not going to awaken from one of his many nightmares and turned back to the flames.
She'd been on the road for four days, ever since she'd come to her senses enough to realize that she needed to get Michi away from there and just long enough for it to really sink in that he was gone. This time, she knew, he wouldn't be coming back.
She looked at the boy again. She found it easier these days to focus on his heartache instead of her own. Poor boy…they couldn't even bury his sister, she and the others had been sucked into…
Damn you…just…Damn you Miroku!
The tears that hovered too near the surface nowadays continued to fall, blurring her vision. Kami, her chest hurt! She rubbed against the ache she was sure would never leave her. Strangely too, the place between her thighs felt empty and barren. Her soul…she didn't want to think about her soul.
She was so…so angry with him! How dare he! How dare he leave her like this? She wanted to hit something so badly that her fingers shook with the effort. The boy whimpered again and some of the churning anger in her gut dissipated a little.
He'd lost his sister, lost her in the most horrific way imaginable. Sango wiped her eyes again and steeled herself against her own soul deep pain. She needed to be strong for him, needed to get him to her village, and hopefully find someone there willing to take him in.
After that, there would be time enough left for her to mourn.
After all, she thought bitterly. I have my whole life ahead of me, don't I Miroku?
She only hoped she'd be able to face her life without him.
Miroku had always embraced the possibility of his own death with a kind of laconic acceptance. He'd lived with the threat of the wind tunnel for so long that any fright he'd experienced for the shrouded specter had long since turned into disinterested apathy.
Not that he'd wanted to die. Oh no, in fact with the memories of Sango and their recent time together, he'd wanted nothing more than to live with her forever…if such a thing had been possible.
He looked around again and blinked in bewilderment. He'd never thought the wind tunnel would look like this inside. If he'd have known, he might have let it take him even earlier. Lush verdant rolling fields stretched out before him and in the distance he could just make out the bright, sapphire blue of a waterfall.
With nothing better to do, he started strolling leisurely towards the falls and almost swallowed his tongue when he got close enough to see really make out any details. His hentai supreme tendencies obviously hadn't dulled in death, and he spent more than a few minutes admiring the view.
Three intoxicatingly beautiful women stood under the spray of the falls, washing each other indiscriminately. It was functional, erotic, and sensual all at once, and Miroku was surprised to find he wasn't even remotely tempted to shuck his own clothes and join them.
He turned away from the sight and looked to the sky, his heart aching painfully.
Damn you Miroku, whispered on the cooling breeze and he closed his eyes.
I'm sorry my love. I'm sorry I left you behind, for always leaving you behind. You may hate me now, but I rest easy in the knowledge that you are alive and whole. You are strong my Sango, strong enough to survive without me and I know…you're heart will heal in time. You have too much love inside of you for it not. Love, I pray, you will give to another, much worthier man than I could ever hope to be.
Miroku was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed one of the women disengage herself from her companions, throw an ornate kimono over her naked form, and walk towards him. She stopped to study him before saying.
"My ancestor must have seen something very special in you monk, to love you as she does. Tell me, are you worthy of it?"
He smirked slightly, opened his eyes, and turned towards the woman who'd addressed him.
"Is any man truly ever worthy of such a woman, Priestess Midoriko?"
She smiled benevolently and nodded.
"Wise, as well as handsome." He nodded and cocked his head contemplatively.
"This proves what I've come to suspect. I'm not inside my wind tunnel…am I?" She frowned slightly and shook her head.
"No monk, if you were inside the wind tunnel I fear it would look something more like this."
She waved her hand and Miroku jumped with a start. The verdant landscape was gone and he suddenly found himself in a black, endlessly cold void teeming with creatures best forgotten. He saw them all, all the demons he, his father, and his father's father, had ever taken. The place reeked of rotting meat, of death, and of suffering…he shuddered.
It was a bleak and lonely hell, not fit for any being. Brusquely, as quick as it appeared the inner working of his kazaana vanished and he found himself next to the waterfall once more. He turned grave indigo eyes on the priestess and she gave him a gentle look.
"Unpleasant," she whispered.
"Y-Yes." He turned away from her. Were his father and grandfather stuck in that hell? He was almost afraid to ask. She must have read his expression because she said.
"Have courage monk, you father and grandfather are no more in that evil place than you are. Upon their death they were tested and measured. They are at peace."
The fear that had gripped him subsided and he sighed in relief.
"I..." he said, helpless. "I-I'm glad." He changed the subject.
"Why am I here Midoriko?" She moved to stand beside him.
"Because I wanted to meet the man who'd captured Sango's heart. Kirara loves her very much you know and from what I've seen of her, she is a remarkable young woman. Now you will answer my original question. Do you feel you are worthy of her?"
Miroku sighed. "I think…that I love her, more than my own existence. That, in and of itself, is remarkable. Before I met Sango, I truly enjoyed the more pleasurable pursuits life had to offer. I thought nothing of bedding a beautiful woman, imbedding more sake than was necessary, or even swindling a wealthy man out of his usually ill gotten gains. Of all of those I really, really enjoyed fornicating. I have a deep appreciation for beautiful women and I always respect those I took my pleasure in and gave pleasure to, but with Sango…
Frankly, when I first met her she scared me senseless because she made me feel…too much. So to answer your question, am I worthy of her? Is any man ever truly worthy of the woman he loves?"
Midoriko smiled. "I can see why she loves you monk." She paused and the silence stretched. She finally broke it by saying.
"Suzu, Kyoko, come and meet Miroku." He jerked, knowing those names, and his gaze flew to the women leaving the water and coming onto shore.
"Are they…" he whispered.
"Yes," she answered, already knowing his unspoken question.
"Kami," he breathed and watched as they drew kimonos similar to Midoriko's over their bodies. These were the women his father and his grandfather had traveled with…these were the women they had inadvertently betrayed. Nervous, he eyed them as the crossed over to him and the priestess. Midoriko introduced them and he took a moment to study the women who'd been Miyatsu and his father's companions.
Kyoko was exotic, with rich dark hair and green eyes that shamed the verdant foliage surrounding them. She gazed at him with a regal, disdainful look, master to peasant. He smiled inwardly. He could instantly see how his father could have fallen for her. He always had a thing for haughty beauties.
Suzu was her polar opposite. She was just as beautiful, but her beauty was softer, earthier. She had warm dark auburn hair and kind gray eyes. Her compassion and nobility were heightened by her carriage. Miyatsu probably hadn't even known what hit him.
Not surprisingly it was Kyoko who spoke to him first.
"So this is the one that finally took Toyotomi down. He doesn't look like much," she sniffed.
"Be nice, Kyoko," Suzu admonished and then turned to Miroku with a deep, respectful bow. "We are in your debt sir, anything you wish of us is yours; you have only to ask."
Miroku smiled and looked from one woman to the next and instantly knew what he wanted to ask.
"Noble ladies, I only ask one boon. I ask you to forgive my family."
Both women flinched and their eyes turned sad.
"What you ask…it is impossible," Kyoko whispered. Miroku sighed, stepped forward, and took her hands in his. Startled and questioning green eyes flew to his.
"I was just a young boy when my father returned from his own quest, but to this day I will never forget the torment I'd seen in his eyes. I may not know exactly what happened, but I do know that my father grieved as I have never seen he grieve before. He was never the same after that. Forgive him; please…for I know that if he'd had a chance, he would have traded his life for yours in an instant."
The polished, aristocratic mask cracked before him and her lips trembled slightly. He was even surprised to see a few tears leak from her eyes. She wiped them away before disentangling their hands.
"I…had no idea, I'd always thought…" She trailed off, visible regained her composure, and waved her hand dismissively. "Fine, fine, I grant your boon, monk. Your father is forgiven."
He nodded and turned his attention to Suzu. She gazed on him with soft, kind orbs.
"Priestess, I am sorry that I can not tell you how my grandfather reacted upon your death. I never got to know him due to the curse that Naraku had bestowed upon my family, but I have been told that I am much like him. Miyatsu loved women and couldn't bear to see a female in distress. Knowing thus, I know that if it had been me, I would have done everything with-in my power to keep you from harm. I have been told he loved you, deeply. It is all I can offer you."
Suzu smiled sadly. "It is enough, monk. I also bestow my forgiveness." He nodded and smiled at her and she nodded back, took Kyoko's hand, and tugged.
"Come…he and the priestess…have things to discuss." Kyoko looked down her nose at him once more, nodded imperiously, and followed the other woman. He watched them until they disappeared into a mountain pass behind the waterfall, and turned to Midoriko. She was smiling at him.
"Thank you, monk. You have done what no other has been able to do for these many long years."
"And what is that?" Her smile turned indulgent.
"You've brought them peace…and now I believe it is time." He cocked an eyebrow.
"Time?" Her features turned mysterious.
"Yes…time for you to take your leave. Kami-sama wished for me to tell you that you have come to his realm too soon. It is time for you to return." His eyes went wide.
"W-What do you mean?" She smiled radiantly.
"I mean…you are not to remain here. It is not your time. Return to whence you came, monk and above all else…give Sango my love."
Miroku stood before her; mouth gaping as comprehension slowly infiltrated his shocked mind. He was…she was going to…
He didn't get a chance to complete that thought. Suddenly, the world tilted and a rush of sensation blinded him. He felt a pull in his abdomen and had the very strange feeling of falling through air before he crashed and darkness descended.
When he awoke, groggy, disoriented, and in a surprising amount of pain, he was shocked to find himself lying naked in the middle of a deep crater. He groaned and pushed himself to unsteady feet, looking around in awe.
He was back in the clearing, standing in the middle of the crater created by his wind tunnel. Abruptly, he lifted his right hand and turned the palm up, only to still.
Fascinated, Miroku used his left hand to rub along the smooth expanse of unbroken skin.
His kazaana was gone.
Joy, hot and bright, suffused his soul and he started laughing. He was laughing so hard that he fell to his knees and had to hold his ribs in, least they burst from the pressure. Birds squawked in annoyance as his laughter echoed across the mountains and down to the valleys below.
As soon as his laughter started, so did the tears, and he found himself weeping like a baby. So many emotions bubbled beneath the surface that he didn't even know where to begin. He must have looked like a lunatic, a naked man laughing and crying indiscriminately while sitting in the dirt at the bottom of a crater. He found he didn't care, didn't care in the slightest.
Moments, hours, weeks, or years could have passed, and he would have been no more aware of it than a fish in trapped in the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean, with no sunlight reaching, and no way to mark the passage of time. Slowly, he came back to himself and one glorious thought echoed through his consciousness.
I'm alive.
He was alive and so was Sango and he was no longer cursed. He had everything he'd ever wanted. Feeling lighter than he had in years he leapt to his feet and started looking for a way out of the hole he was stuck in. So intent was he on his search that he didn't see the shadow from the man standing at the edge of the indenture above him until he spoke.
"Miroku my boy! What are you doing down there and why are you naked?"
He started, looked up, and smiled like a mad man.
"Manuel, you old lush! What are you doing here?" The fat priest rubbed the back of his head nervously and shrugged.
"I was in the village just east of here when the Lord spoke to me in a dream. He seemed to think it was my Christian duty to find your heathen soul and led me here." Miroku laughed.
"I thought you didn't hold with divine epiphany?" Manuel looked rueful and shrugged.
"Yes well, when I return to Portugal it looks like I owe Sister Emiline an apology. You need a hand getting out of there?"
Miroku nodded and Father Manuel retreated, looking around for something to pull his friend up with. He found some vines that looked long enough and threw the end to him. After three attempts and much cursing on both their parts, he finally managed to pull the monk free. Miroku collapsed at the edge, panting from exertion.
When he could speak again he said. "Thanks friend, you showed up just in time." The priest's face was red and he was wheezing a little, but he managed to say.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways. Now, how about we find you some clothes and leave this place. It's giving me the willies."
Miroku nodded and they walked a ways until they came upon Toyotomi's castle. Miroku wasn't surprised to find it abandoned. With some reluctance, he found the room he'd been assigned to when the first arrived, retrieved his spare clothing, and surprisingly found his staff when he went in search of the armory.
They were on the road not long after and he was glad to be rid of the solemn castle. In fact, he thought it would be poetic justice for the edifice that had housed such cruel and malignant evil to rot away on this lonely mountain side, empty and forgotten.
Miroku and Father Manuel caught up and reminisced as they traveled. It was almost as if they had never parted ways to begin with. Sundown was soon upon them and before stopping for the night the priest cocked his head and said.
"You seem happier, my boy, lighter of heart. Did you finally find what you had been seeking?"
Miroku smiled cryptically. "I did priest and she's waiting for me. She just doesn't know it yet."