AN:

PLEASE LISTEN TO

Passenger "The Golden Thread"

It is such a lovely song that I wrote this chapter to.

TO ALL OF YOU:

Every one of the reviews that I have received for the last chapter have been so wonderful. I'm glad everyone enjoyed it. Haha.

NiceStories; thank you. I usually try to read it over and edit it before I post it, but I appreciate that! If you see anything else, let me know and I'll correct it. And, I'm so glad that you enjoy this so much. I don't need a shrine, just some cookies will be good! ;D

ninjamidori; LOL. I'm glad that you liked it. I was like, they probably think I died.

Child of Dreamz; Thank you so much. I've been writing fanfiction for 9 long years. Haha. I take a lot of situations and the way the characters behave, from experiences that I've had and people I know.

Miroku's a little different that he normally is in this story, but he's ALWAYS so much fun to write for. Kagome's gonna have to make up her mind!

SexyxAngelx09; Girl, you're about to read a whole lot about Miroku. ;D

Anime Lady PIMP; She's a strong girl. She'll overcome it. :)

And finally,

LoVe23; Thank you! I'm glad that you decided to join us here! :)

Alright my lovely readers and reviewers, this is a treat for you guys.

Assuming that you like this sort of thing. ;D

This is a special little chapter here.

You know that sexual and adult situations disclaimer?

Yeah.

I was going to post this last night, but my love comandeered the internet. :|

I hope that you like it. I'm posting another chapter tonight, because this is a slight break from the super drama.

Chapter 11

Waves

Branches bent and koi kites wrinkled across the vast plain of houses, resting upon the inlays of rocks and gravely pavement. Each one of their facades had a story to tell. Some were warm, refreshed with paint and new shutters.

Others, like most, were peeling from the corrosive salt that licked their sides and damp from the conditions that they had weathered. The one that housed a wondrous secret was larger, ladden with care.

A rickety wooden fence, covered with a layer of snow, held Sango had bay. Shippo was weary and exhausted from the trek from the fresh market the town was known for.

The woman stood with the piece of paper in between her gloved fingers, searching the structure for any signs of life.

It was such a numbing moment in her life, that she could barely register her hand swinging the creaky, knee high gate open. The little boy was tired of standing in the cold and brushed past the woman's legs.

Making her heart fair near explode, had it not already been in the state prior to him being so bold. Sango couldn't help from searching the grounds as though she was an unknown tresspasser.

A bundle of fire food lay on the small porch, neatly tied with a white tether. There was a collection of smooth, expensive looking pots making their way across the interior lining of the porch fence.

There was something endearing about how simple it was and it made her actually miss being in little ole Akita. Shippo was standing at the door, shuffling his feet as she clopped like a horse up the three steps.

Her conviction had lead her this far. There wasn't much left to the imagination anymore. It was now or never, and never wasn't an option.

No matter how she felt, with the responsive tingling in her arms and legs, she closed her eyes and blindly opened the crying screen door. It rested on her back, grating against her mussed hair as she hesitantly knocked upon the door.

Shippo watched her intently, holding Buyo to his nose to keep him warm. The woman held her breath, keeping all of her oxygen to herself. She looked over her shoulder a couple of times before she gave up.

A few long, silent moments passed by with no answer. Part of her had died all over again as she expelled her breath, hot and steaming against the air. It was like all of the anticipation had been for nothing.

The boy beside her looked up, bouncing the tip of his umbrella off of the porch planks. He chewed as his lip, trying his best not to complain. Sango pinched the bridge of her nose and let the screen door snap shut.

Had hope been a balloon, floating so helplessly, it would have materialized with a shot through its center, bringing it down to the rubble around her feet.

Looking around the bleak landscape that lead to the murky ocean, Sango smiled to herself sadly. Her hand nervously placed the box upon the swing and hid the tears that hung to her lashes.

Shippo frowned at her, handing her Buyo's free hand for her to hold. She wished that she could feel his furry hand soothing her as they walked down the steps. Sango lolled her head back as the wind kicked her hair, letting her feel the release of heat she had contained.

The very last part of her longed to see that man's face, the only that she had never forgotten. The movie scene fantasy she had held on to for so long had become a burning mark on a reel.

The sound of the gate opening tore her from her thoughts as a lanky man hunched to close it. When he turned around, he met her gaze.

An intrusive illness swept over her and stained her cheeks as she let go of the rabbits hand. The man's cherubic face was adorned with a vibrant hue, hiding behind a pair of stark, black frames.

The grocery bag in his hand dropped, just as his mouth. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would have seen her again. His fingers shook beneath their gloves, burning them to his skin.

The woman's body was electric, pushing her lightning through the atmosphere. Shippo furrowed his brows, not understanding what had happened. He merely saw two adults staring at one another with love in their eyes.

Had this been the man that got away? He ruminated, watching Sango's feet move in a quick pace. The man in front of her held his arms to his sides, as she barreled into him, latching onto him as though he would disappear.

The tears that she had held within her, broke past the Bastille's walls and tumbled down with a furious wave. "Miroku..." She gasped in his chest, winding her hands in his navy coat.

His own hands curled around her, pulling her closer as though she would meld with his body. Miroku's nose buried in her hair, smelling the sweetness of her shampoo and perfume. That was the smell that he had missed all of this time. Her warmth, her loving smiles and distressed cries.

She was a haunted part of his past. Yet, he never let go of her. His divorce with Ayame was impending and that left him free. Nothing seemed real to him.

A smile spread across his face as he breathed her name. "Sango, where have you been?" He whispered, pulling back for a moment to wipe the tears off of her rosy face. "How did you find me?" His brows furrowed softly, brushing her hair from her eyes.

The woman sniveled, her worries melting like the snow beneath her feet. She felt like a school girl again, so robustly overwhelmed by the intensity of her emotions.

"I-I saw Ayame the other day. She wanted me to come visit, but it didn't go so well." Sango murmured, gripping to the edges of his coat.

Her breath danced in between them like smoke as Miroku's forlorn eyes fell upon the auburn headed boy, standing with his tongue out. "And who might this one be?" He asked with a smirk, moving away from her to only kneel down.

The man was fluttering with a delight he hadn't felt in years. His heart could have sang a sweet melody if anyone cared to listen. The little boy eyed him awkwardly, taking in the smile lines that ran above his painfully white teeth.

Extending a hand, Miroku nudged his head encouraging the motion to be met. Sango knelt to pick up the rogue fruit that had fallen from his bag and walked towards the boy and knelt beside him.

Shippo clung warily to Sango, noting only that she had been crying, smearing her make up down her face. He was unsure as she wrapped an arm around him, "This is my friend, Miroku. He means the world to me." She breathed, her chipmunk cheeks pert with attention.

"What's your name?" The man asked with his smooth voice, sending shivers down Sango's spine. She'd longed to hear anything that dripped from his chords, echoing the softness he always held.

Shippo held out Buyo's hand instead of his own, protecting Sango with his tiny hands, which knitted in her coat sleeve. "Ito Shippo." The boy said with a childish sneer.

Miroku stiffened, eying Sango precariously as he took the bunny's plush hand. "Ito? Is he?" He curiously looked at the woman. A part of him wanted to blurt out every question that came to his mind. But, he remembered she couldn't have children of her own.

That would have been a stretch of his imagination to think that InuYasha was still alive, let alone having an illegitimate child with Sango of all people. As he retracted his hand, he felt the wind cut into his face, making him shiver.

Pressing himself to his feet, he pressed a smile across his chubby face. He was perturbed to say the very least as he greeted the child warmly.

"Why don't we all go inside and get something to drink." Miroku said, receiving a flustered look from the woman. Her hands clutched to the grocery bag, winding it girlishly around her hands.

"Is that okay with you, Shippo?" Sango asked, swaying ever so gently. The boy looked at her with an arched, unamused brow, as though she was sneaking around behind his father's back.

"Does InuYasha know about this guy?" Shippo said, a little cocky just like his adopted father.

Sango bit her lip, lowering her head in a semi-defeat. "Baby, you know that I'm not seeing him." A hand cupped her forehead as Miroku relaxed within himself. He'd been blessed with so many things that it made his heart swell ten fold.

"Hmm, that would be of strange coincidences, yes?" Miroku chided, shaking his head at the idea, as though it was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.

The man motioned towards the house, he shot Sango a look over his shoulder. It was powerful, subtle, amongst other things that she couldn't quite place. Those dark, shining eyes punctured her more deeply than he'd ever know.

To her, the sound of the screen door scratching at the hinges was a symphony. When the door finally opened, bursting with a welcoming warmth, she melted when she saw the simple interior.

That was Miroku. He was simplistic, clean for the most part. It was just like she remembered his old place. No matter where he went, it smelled like him. It was like a holy scent layered in pine and a musky cologne.

It wasn't stuffy and sterile like Ayame's had been, it was so much more inviting. Miroku was a child in a lot of ways. He'd always wanted his own, but his wife had never been quite the nurturing kind.

The surprise of this pregnancy was scattering in his mind. Deep down, he knew that Ginta didn't belong to him and left on his own accord, despite what she fallacies she chose to tell.

Placing his keys in a bowl upon the counter, he shucked his coat off and neatly hung it up near the door. Shippo inspected his new surroundings hesitantly, meandering through the man's living room.

It was plain, ordinary for a man that looked like he had so much money. Sango couldn't force herself to speak anymore as Miroku watched her remove the thick layers of clothing that hid her petite frame.

His arms crossed along his stout chest as he took a seat at a small table in the kitchen. Leaning over, he picked up a remote, turning on the television in the adjacent room for the boy and his bunny.

Sango chewed at her lip and pulled the cuffs of her sleeves to her hands as she sat across from the man. Her hair hung around her face, hiding the color still clinging to her cheeks.

The moment of rejuvenation had passed, leaving behind the wake of numbness that locked the questions she wanted to ask.

Miroku adjusted the glasses on his nose, focusing to see her better. A soft grin painted itself upon his mouth, gracing an open invitation for joy to bleed in.

"So," He licked his lips, getting the woman too look at him. "That's InuYasha's boy?" His tone was curious, as if he was excavating an unbelievable treasure.

Sango nodded, looking over shoulder at the boy that had made himself at home upon the plush, red sofa. "Yeah, he adopted him when his mother passed away. I've been helping him with him since he didn't have a mother. He's just the sweetest thing." She said reassuringly, aching to touch the man across from her again.

Miroku shifted nervously, placing his head in the palm of his hand as he relied on the strength of his elbow to hold him upright. "I'm just relieved that InuYasha is alive. Ayame had pretty much extinguished the idea of him living with us. He was working for Kanagawa Fishing Company before they went under and then he came to stay with us."

He sighed, finding the entire situation to be irreverent. His ex was just about as wily as they came and so incredibly fickle. "But, we'll get to that later." Miroku said, his dark eyes gathering Sango's complete attention. "I'd rather the time for misfortune to be at the end of this reunion."

The woman smiled awkwardly, shifting in her seat as though she couldn't relax. "How have you been?" She said, lowering her head to her fingernails. Her voice was almost nonexistent.

Miroku shrugged slightly, "Well, it looks as though I have done alright for myself." Sadness gripped at his voice, dampening his eyes with the same emotion. He couldn't say that he was well, but it couldn't nay say the notion either. "Aside from dealing with the divorce and all, I'm alright. What about you?"

Sango ran a hand through her hair, still in disbelief that this man was in front of her. Her heart was swollen as the soul that guided her motions. "I've been dealing. I work at a small hospital in a suburb of Akita. I have an apartment, Shippo to take care of, and InuYasha to cook for." Her brows lifted with a shrug.

The man nodded intently, listening to the gentleness in her voice. "He never could cook for shit." Miroku laughed, "I'm glad that you're working in your field. Are you a nurse?"

The woman sighed, "Sort of. I mostly handle paperwork and directions. I don't want to be put in a situation where people can make me feel guilty for doing my job. But, that's besides the point. I've wanted to see you for so long that this is the last thing I wanted to bring up."

Sango's breath left her completely empty as she chewed at her lip, trying to forget about the stinging words Ayame had said. The man across from her skidded his chair out and headed towards his counter, pulling out a couple of cups.

"Well, I know that when you lived here, you couldn't escape the accusations and all. I did everything I could for you and I'm still regretful that I couldn't take away the pain that you felt." Miroku continued, lighting the stove to brew some tea.

When Kohaku had passed away a bit prematurely, he had tried everything to keep her case from going to court. There had been a few doctors that pointed their long, knowing fingers at her. They said she was a murderer and needed to be put away, among other horribly explicit names that did her no justice.

A frown fell on his face as he maneuvered to the basket of fruit and wrapped up pastries he'd bought. He knew Sango was staring at him, etching the familiarity in his words. If she had relived the moment, it was his fault and regret ate at him.

A moment passed, letting the woman's thoughts reformulate. She didn't know what she could say. It was true and if he hadn't of done what he had, she would be sitting in prison with actual murderers and rapists. Kohaku couldn't have kept suffering.

Closing her eyes, Sango pressed back her tears and reopened them anew. "Miroku, I'm sorry that I left. I may have been marked a beast, but I never would have lost you and that has been one of the greatest regrets of my life."

Miroku's mouth parted as though he wanted to speak. Sango's hand clasped against her mouth at the vigorous string of words that poured from her mouth. A flush hit her and the tears that she suppressed tried so desperately to fall.

Miroku bit his lip, watching her fight to keep control. He glanced to Shippo, nodding off with his bunny stuffed into his arms. "Sango, do you honestly think that I would have married Ayame if you had stayed? I loved her, and I still do." He shook his head, his hand folding to a fist above his heart.

A conviction struck him, letting all of his emotion streak his eyes with a shaking grasp. "But, I have never loved anyone like I loved you. I wasn't a good husband. I cheated on, lied to her, but I still loved her. That love wasn't enough and she chose to leave and I understand that. If I hadn't of been so empty, I never would have been with her."

Sango's face was slapped with awe. Her heart frittered as though it was beaten, ricocheting off of the muscular walls that bound it. The heat in her fingers reached the very tips of her toes.

Those damned tears fell freely, burning her cheeks with their heat. Her hands wound in her shirt, pulling at the fabric. "Every time I visited you, I never meant for any of that to happen. I'm sorry that I caused your marriage to fail. I'm so sorry, Miroku." Sango wept quietly, as to not disturb the boy.

Miroku slammed his fist down on the counter, looking her dead in the eye. Ignoring all of the smearing make up that masked her natural beauty, he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. "Sango, how dare you blame yourself for what happened. I'm fucking happy that I'm rid of her. I can finally be free of her family and her iron grip on reality. I am not hers. I never was. I waited every day after the last time I saw you for you to come back. All I have ever wanted was you."

Those words resounded in the small room as though a holy scripture manifested within the confines. The silence that came after the waves of his smooth, deep voice, crashed down with a suffocating force.

Sango's dark eyes caught the violence in his eyes, striking her with its furious hands. She forced herself to stand, skidding the chair across his wooden floor. Shippo jumped in his light sleep, but turned over, wrapping his arms around the throw pillows.

Her eyes closed as the soft whistling sound of the tea kettle threatened the silence. Miroku slid the kettle off the eye and flipped it off, never losing his tunnel vision on the woman. His heart beat furiously. He'd longed to say those words to someone, anyone that would listen.

Sango stood a merely two feet away from him, her hands nervously picking at her jeans. Her breathing was erratic, swamped by the heaviness in the room. Miroku swallowed hard, finding the courage to press his body firmly against hers.

His mouth captured hers in an owning kiss, pulling at the silky hair she had knotted with her own fingers in her nervousness. She tasted sweet, just like he remembered. Her body was quivering against him, trying to search the familiar territory that she had mapped out so many times.

His skin was soft, supple as it always was. Her fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt, as he danced with her towards his room.

Miroku's foot kicked the door open, closing it softly as he could behind him. Sango gasped against his mouth, stealing his breath.

Hungrily, he removed her shirt, fumbling with the buckle on his own pants. The woman ripped the shirt from his body, feeling his heat pour onto her own scalding flesh. The bed became apart of her back as he pressed his weight on top of her, smothering her with need.

He pulled back from her to gently caress her cheek as she slid from the rest of her clothing. He admired her, knowing how beautiful this woman was, it was more or less a greedy way to know that she was his.

Miroku's hands ran down her neck, applying enough to pressure to turn her flesh white beneath his fingers. Every move made her flinch, moan at the sensation. Removing his glasses, Sango tossed them across his pillows, wrapping her arms around his neck as he figeted with his underwear.

The woman parted her mouth, struggling to catch his lips. Miroku pressed his nose into the crook of her neck as he pressed into her, eliciting a frantic gasp from the woman. He breathed against her neck as he thrust into her, bringing out the resounding feelings that he had forgotten.

Sango's long fingers ran through his gossamer hair, pulling at the short locks as if they would grow. Her back arched into him, legs wrapping securely around his waist. Miroku grunted at the exertion, trying to feel as much of her as he could.

Her hands dragged down his back, finding the strength in the muscles that laid below such smooth skin. The woman's hips bucked, begging to be closer.

Miroku's motions became ragged, uneven as he rolled her on top of him. His hands delicately smoothed over the curvature of her waist as she enveloped him. Her breasts crushed against his chest as she squirmed.

This was all she had ever wanted. He was all she had ever wanted. Sango panted his name into his ears, knowing that this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Miroku grasped her as the waves of their bodies matched the coursing of the ocean that lay outside his window, draining them of the emptiness that they had felt all those years.

She had been the world that he had believed in.

AN;

YEAH. JUST WENT THERE.

I really like how this chapter turned out.

Their feelings are unadulterated and innocent, despite everything.

Let me know what you guys think.

And, I never knew that eyeing was actually spelled eying. Hm.

Next chapter is going to be more Kagome/InuYasha centric since this pretty much had none. I'm sorry for that, but this chapter needed to stand on its own. :)

Happy reading.