Broken Wings

A broken wing. The bird had a broken wing. It struggled over and over to fly up from the ground only to stumble back again. It was like watching a person slowly bleed to death from a wound that could be easily treated. Slow, painful and easily avoidable. Now this bird would slowly starve to death, a death that no living creature deserved.

Sango gently took the struggling bird into her hands and held it. It did not struggle in her hands though they were far from soft. Slightly rough from the years of training with weapons. She ran a finger down the bird's spine wondering idly if she should put this animal out of its misery or leave it for another creature to feed off of, thus continuing the cycle of life. This simple wound was going to be the end of this bird’s existence. A broken wing, a wound too fatal to heal.

“A bird with a broken wing.”

Sango looked up to see Miroku kneeling down in front of her. He seemed pensive and almost sad in a way. His dark eyes watched the bird as it made pained sounds in Sango’s hands.

“Yes, a broken wing. I found it near the river trying to fly,” she replied. Her voice seemed to leave her as she spoke, her heart breaking and mending at the same time.

“What will you do with it?” he asked. The question seemed simple enough, but she could not find an answer that would not make her seem heartless. It was a lose-lose situation. Kill the bird and put it out of its misery or let it starve. No matter what, the bird was going to die, and either choice seemed callous.

“May I?”

She looked at his open hands and back at the bird before placing it in his hands. He, like her, ran a finger down the bird’s spine, soothing it. He rested two fingers near the head for a moment before applying pressure. There was a slight snap and the bird fell still in his hands. Sango said nothing, she had no words, this was not what she expected from him at all.

“Starving is one of the worst ways to die.” She agreed with him there. “So it was better to put this creature out of its misery so it wouldn’t struggle until starvation sunk in.” Again, she agreed, nodding slightly this time. He placed the dead animal under a nearby bush and knelt by the river, running the cool water over his fingers. She watched him, and he turned when he felt her eyes on him. “Something wrong, Sango?” Another question that seemed simple enough, yet the answer seemed too complex to explain in a lifetime.

“I suppose so. I just...” she replied, but stopped herself midway through the sentence. She did not want to share her feelings of worry and selfishness with him, he had enough on his mind as it was. The monk watched her, waiting for her to finish her thought. When silence was the only reply he got, Miroku tilted his head at her and moved next to her. He kept a good foot between them though; he could tell Sango was in no mood to be harassed today.

“You just what?” he asked casually.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t need you to believe me,” her voice became slightly snappy now, angrier than she intended, but she was sure she got her point across.

“True, but I want to see if I can help,” his voice sounded sincere to her and true enough, he was.

“I don’t want your help,” she grumbled. A blatant lie and they both knew it.

“How can I make you talk to me?” A moment of silence passed between them. She wanted to tell him of her pain, of her worry, but a part of her wanted to keep it all inside. She was hurt, sad, angry, and needed a way to express it without words. Sango glanced over at him.

“A fight,” she stated simply. Miroku blinked once.

“What do you mean “a fight”?” Somehow, he knew what she was thinking, but decided to hear her terms nonetheless.

“A spar between you and me. If you win, I’ll talk to you and tell you what is going on. If I win, you have to leave and never speak of the fight or this conversation to anyone. Do you accept my challenge?” She sounded cocky, but she had never lost a fight to anyone, especially one between friends. He was human just like her, there were no disadvantages. This would help release some of her anger, and it would make him leave her alone. Miroku felt a smile form on his lips.

“Sounds fair to me Lady Sango,” he replied, standing. She nodded and also stood, forming her hands into fists. “Go easy on me, hand-to-hand combat isn’t my strongest area.” Sango said nothing as she rose to her feet.

“Fist-to-fist? Who said weapons were not allowed?” Her hand rested on the hilt of her blade. Miroku shrugged and pick up his staff from the ground.

“The first move is yours.”

She did not hesitate as she lunged for him, drawing her blade in one swift motion. She wanted to end this battle quickly so she could move on with trying to sort out her own thoughts. Miroku moved with just as much ease as her, blocking the blow with little effort. He seemed also bored with the first attack as he looked down at her. “Come Sango, I expected better from you as a first move.” He pushed her back a few steps and smiled. Sango felt her blood start to boil. She hated being degraded in any way even if it was by a decent opponent. Even losing to Miroku would be degrading in her eyes, she would lose respect for herself. She curled her fingers tightly around the hilt of her blade and lunged for the perfectly-composed monk standing before her.

Miroku was expecting more and less from his opponent. He knew very well that if she wanted, she could kill him without breaking a sweat. This lingering knowledge added tension to the battle and made him all the more determined to beat her, if only for the reason that he wanted to give her some sort of comfort. He could tell she was hurting, that something was digging at the depths of her soul. He made a pledge to help her somehow.

Her blade clashed and she put all of her strength into knocking the monk off of his feet. Miroku blocked the attack and felt his arms to shake at the strength and determination behind the blow. He smiled at her.

“What are you smiling about? Thinking something naughty I’m sure,” the young warrior said with a hint of bitterness in her voice. He could only laugh at her.

“Sango, when I am standing this close to you it is hard not to,” he replied. She blinked once before pushing as hard as she could making him stumble back a few steps. She saw an opening as he recovered and aimed at his arm with a quick slash of her blade. The blade barely cut his flesh before he moved out of the way and hit her upper arm with his staff, not hard, but hard enough that the nerves made the blade fall from her hands. Sango tried to reach for her blade before he attacked again. Seeing no other option she kicked Miroku’s staff out of his hands and went to punch him. He grabbed her fist in his hand and held her their bodies only centimeters apart. “Is the battle mine yet?” Sango grunted and twisted her hand out of his.

“Hardly. We will continue this until there is a definite winner.” She was more determined than ever to win now. Moving quickly, she snatched her blade and swung at him again. Miroku knew he had no time to gather his weapons to form a block. He ducked, the blade swinging over his head and cutting a few hairs. He snatched his staff and blocked her next attack while lying on his back. Sango grit her teeth together and tried to take him by surprise by attacking him from either side, but each of her offensive moves were easily blocked by the staff, rings around the end clanging in the silence of the coming evening.

~~~

Inuyasha rolled his eyes as the water over the fire began to boil. Things like this always seemed to take so long. The longer he stared at the water the slower it seemed to heat. Kagome and Shippo watched him with narrowed eyes trying to figure out what was so fascinating about the boiling water.

“Inuyasha? What are you staring at?” Shippo asked, making sure to stay close to Kagome just in case the half-breed was in a bad mood and decided to take it out on the smaller fox demon. Inuyasha merely blinked and looked over that the two of them.

“Just waiting for my food,” he responded, obviously quite upset by the fact that his food was taking this long to prepare. Kagome could only roll her eyes.

“Inuyasha, the water is already starting to boil and then it will only be a few more minutes until some of the food I brought will be ready, all right? You really need to learn some patience,” she replied. Inuyasha crossed his arms and stared at the water some more.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome’s voice suddenly broke the silence as she tore the package open to add the instant noodles.

He glanced up at her. “Yeah?”

“Do you know where Miroku and Sango went? The food will be ready soon and I’m sure they’re hungry, don’t you think?” He had to agree, both with Kagome's statement and with her sudden suspicion to where the Demon Slayer and Lecherous Monk had gone off to. He wondered if they were sitting by the river talking. He had seen them do that once before. Inuyasha heaved sigh and look angrily at the boiling water as Kagome added the noodles.

“This is just taking way too–” He suddenly stopped in mid sentence and sniffed the air again. He was sure of it now; that was human blood in the air. Kagome and Shippo both looked at him, silently wondering why he suddenly stopped complaining.

“Inuyasha? Something wrong?” Kagome asked. He smelled the air again and stood slowly. If there was a demon nearby he wanted to make sure that he got the upper hand by taking it by surprise.

“I smell human blood in the air,” he replied in a hushed voice. “Come on.” Kagome and Shippo both followed silently, making sure to stay close to the half demon. The sounds of clashing arms soon came to her ears. A fight? There was a fight? She hoped that Miroku and Sango were okay. She did not sense a jewel shard so there had to be no demon. Inuyasha did not smell Naraku, but there was no denying the human blood in the air. It was faint though, as if someone were only bleeding from minor wounds. Even if the wounds were small it did not shake the feeling he knew whose blood that was. Inuyasha followed the smell, Kagome and Shippo close behind. There was definitely a battle going on. The trio pushed the bushes away the reveal the secret. What lay before them was a battle indeed, a battle between Miroku and Sango. They battled with fierce intensity that hung in the air like a fog. For a moment, Kagome was sure she saw hate in the eyes of the opponents. Inuyasha, however, seemed unaffected by the scene that lay before him.

“Come on, they’re fine,” he said in a quiet voice. Kagome blinked and looked at the half demon in complete shock.

“What? Inuyasha, they’re trying to kill each other and you’re just going to walk away? How could you!” She was starting to get hysterical. Shippo stared at the battle, looking melancholy.

“I don’t want them to die...” the small fox whispered. Inuyasha turned his back on the battle, walking away as if it were nothing. Kagome was completely baffled. She knew that Inuyasha tried so hard to be strong and show little emotion. She knew that he put on this act so no one could use his emotions against him as they had done in the past, but this was too much for even her, despite how patient she always was with him, to handle. She clenched her fists and angrily stomped after the stubborn half breed. Shippo, who turned away from the battle, stared at Kagome and this sudden mood change.

“Inuyasha...SIT BOY!” she exclaimed. The beaded necklace around the young demons neck glowed white for a brief moment before he slammed face first into the cold earth. She was expecting him to jump to his feet and scream at her, to turn and say “Will you quit doing that?!” However, he surprised her by pushing himself to his feet and continuing on his way as if nothing had ever happened. Kagome reached down and gathered Shippo into her arms and chased after the half demon. “Inuyasha! Listen to me, why can’t you stop them?” He turned around quickly and gave her a hard stare.

“Because they weren’t really fighting. That’s why,” his voice low and whispered so as not to disturb Miroku and Sango nearby. Kagome stared at him for a moment.

“What do you mean ‘not really fighting’?” Inuyasha folded his arms and started to walk again, but talked at the same time. She jogged to keep up with him as he explained.

“Think about it logically: Sango was fighting with a blade when she could have used her hiraikotsu. She could have taken a step back and hit Miroku in the chest and easily killed him if that was her intent, which it isn’t. And Miroku is even more obvious, he has his wind tunnel, something that could end the battle without a drop of sweat, but he was using his staff. He was not trying to kill her, and she isn’t trying to kill him either.”

“Then why are they fighting?”

“My guess would be that they’re having a spar. There was some sort of argument, probably Miroku doing his usual, and instead of hitting him like she always does, Sango challenged him to a fight. Knowing Miroku he is probably trying–” Inuyasha was cut off by Kagome hitting him upside the head. “Hey! What was that for?!”

“Quiet, Shippo is still a kid.”

A moment of silence fell between the three of them. Shippo walked a little slower then Kagome and Inuyasha, taking a moment from time to time to look over his shoulder.

“Inuyasha!” Shippo yelled out, running up to the half demon and stopping right in front of him. “They won’t hurt each really bad, will they?” Kagome smiled down at Shippo.

“Of course not, it was probably just some silly argument. Come on, I’m sure our food is more than ready.” The two of them walked the rest of the way to the camp site while Inuyasha lingered slightly behind. I know what I serious wound smells like, those two could really hurt each other. I’ll just have to break it up if there is too much blood in the air. “What are you thinking about, Inuyasha?”

He stared at her for a moment before crossing his arms as he sat on the ground.

“Pft, none of your business.” Kagome sighed and simply handed Inuyasha his food. There was no point in arguing anyway.

~~~

Limbs began to ache and sweat poured into the fighters' eyes. They were putting everything they had into these last moments of the battle. They knew that neither could endure this kind of fighting much longer. If someone became too tired, both would risk enduring a serious injury. Their weapons clashed and they pushed against each other, shaking with determination and pain.

“Ready to give up yet, Miroku?” Sango asked through grit teeth. The monk simply smiled back at her.

“Of course not. Why do you ask? Ready to end this trivial battle?”

“More than ready.” They pushed each other back a few steps. They could only stare each other down at this point. Despite their sometimes inhuman abilities they still had human bodies that could only take so much damage. Each fighter stood in a ready stance waiting for the other to attack. A gentle wind blew and whispers escaped from the trees. Neither fighter moved. The only sound was the wind. Sango could feel that she was indeed bleeding in some places. Blisters on her hands had exploded and now were slicked with hot blood. She could feel a lump form on right hip where Miroku had hit her. It was becoming harder and harder for her to move on that leg. A single cut also fell on her shoulder and the droplets of blood ran down her arm and to her fingertips.

She did know, however, that she was not the only one in pain. She could see that she had cut Miroku fairly deep in a few places. A cut lined his cheek and small droplets of blood fell down his pale skin like tears. She could see that his hands were also bleeding for same reasons as hers. Sango could also recall that she slashed him hard on the back and she assumed that the wound was still bleeding and needed attention...as did she. This battle could not go on much longer. I need to finish this now.

Sango lunged forward and put everything she had into fast blows, trying to knock the staff to the ground. He fought her back again, but his ease was gone now, his moves sluggish due to exhaustion and battle wounds. She stood before him and decided that it was now or never. I have to finish this now. He raced forward and went to knock her blade from her hands as she went to knock his staff from his hands. Ironically, both succeeded and both the staff and the blade were hit aside. Suddenly weaponless, Sango made a fist to knock him down. Miroku, however, had a different strategy in mind. He lunged forward and pinned her down to the ground. She struggled, trying to force him to get off of her. He smiled down at her and for the first time Sango felt it was a truly sincere smile. She stopped struggling. Miroku’s eyes traveled down her body until he saw the circle of blood on her hip. “Did...I do that to you?” He continued to look her over and also saw the cut on her shoulder. He looked flabbergasted. “And that?”

Sango blinked and looked down at her hip. She was bleeding there now, much to her surprise. She hardly knew how to respond to a question like that except with being honest. “Yes, I guess you did.” It took everything in her power to keep that statement flat and not sarcastic. “And what I did to you...we need to treat this cut before it gets worse and you’ll have a scar.”

“You don’t want to see a scar on my face?”

“Not a scar from me. That wound on your back needs tending to as well.” He merely nodded and eased off of her, but stayed close. This was the end of their battle, she wanted it continue though, not only had she lost, but it was more the intensity she saw within the young monk's eyes as they clashed arms. It was truly a sight for her eyes. Sango sat up gingerly and sighed heavily.

“You are an extremely formidable opponent Sango. I would hate to be your enemy.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“False flattery won’t get you anything from me.” She slowly stood up and went over to her things to gather her herbs and some bandages that Kagome had given her. She could feel his eyes on her back.

“I wasn’t trying to get anything from you Sango, I was just being serious.” There was something about his tone that seemed so different than before. He might be scared now from a meaningless battle all because she refused his comfort. It all seemed so pointless now that she thought about it. One of them could have been seriously hurt. She turned and slowly walked towards Miroku, limping slightly. “Here, let me help you sit down.” Miroku was on his feet and he took Sango’s arm. She felt her cheeks turn slightly red as he eased her back down to the ground. Suddenly, Miroku lost his own footing due to a sudden bolt of pain up his back and fell backwards. He hissed in pain as the wound hit the ground and even more so when Sango fell on him. He opened his eyes and saw her staring down at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I–”

“Sango...really...it’s not that big of a deal.” And with those words, Sango felt all of her worries ease away. How did he manage to do that? There was something in his voice and that small smile on his lips. The demon exterminator moved off of Miroku, he sat up, though just a bit too fast and too soon, because before they both knew it, skull met skull and they were left sitting up, rubbing their heads and laughing. “Wow,” he said after a moment of laughter, “that was a lot funnier than it should have been.” Sango could only smile.

“All right, hold still.” She dabbed a piece of cloth with disinfectant. She brought the cloth up to the cut on his face and began to clean it. All of her muscles were ready to hit a hand away if he should try anything. Much to her surprise, he sat there and let her clean his wounds without one word or the slightest movement. Sango finished cleaning the cut, but stayed close, staring at him. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What are you planning?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re being good, too good, what are you planning?”

“Planning? I’m not planning anything, our battle is over, is it not?” Sango merely continued to stare at him. Either he was playing dumb, which she guessed was the case, or he really had no idea what she was talking about. Defeated, Sango sat back on her heels.

“All right...I better...tend to that wound on your back...” Miroku snatched the cloth out her hands.

“You have wounds that need to be tended to as well.” he gestured to her shoulder, the cloth near the wound a deep red. “Let me take care of that.” Sango felt her stomach twist into knots. She did not have her armor on underneath her clothes. She would be revealing more of herself to him now than she ever had before. This time, I know he will try something perverted. He won’t be able to contain himself, it’s just the way he is. I know he will. Her hand moved to her shoulder and moved the cloth away, revealing the wound. Taking the cloth and putting more disinfectant on it, he began to clean the wound. Sango felt a stinging sensation and moved away from him, but his other hand touched her waist, preventing her from moving any further away. “Stay still.” She tensed, but relaxed a moment later, closing her eyes and letting her mind take her away. She could feel his fingertips gently tending to her wound, his hand resting on her waist and the feel of his breath again her bare skin. She could feel the heat from his body touching hers, he was that close, and it was covering her like a warm blanket.

And then it was gone: the warmth, his hands, everything just seemed to vanish. Sango opened her eyes and saw that he was over by the river, washing the cloth clean. A bandage now covered her shoulder as she pulled the cloth around her body again. Astounded and even a little aggravated, she moved herself next to him.

“You left me...” What am I doing? You can’t admit these things to him, not here and not now. The time isn’t right. Why are these words leaving my mouth?

“Your wound was fairly serious and the cloth was soaked with blood.” He stated the fact as if it were nothing. She was confused by his actions and considering their history, he was not surprised that she was acting strange as well.

“You...you didn’t touch me...in that way...” Miroku stopped what he was doing, “Why not? I was expecting it, yet you haven’t touched me in an inappropriate way since this entire thing started.” Miroku turned and looked at her with a small smile on his lips.

“I could tell that something was bothering you so I wanted to comfort you, not make you mad at me, that’s all.” He touched her cheek very gently before standing, “Come, we can head back to camp and have Inuyasha and Kagome help us tend to our wounds that are in hard to reach places.” Sango looked up at him, still shocked by how polite he was being, and then looked at her hands.

“Miroku...sit back down.” Her voice was soft and tender, she sounded hurt. Concerned, the monk eased back to the ground.

“Sango? Are you all right?” He sounded so worried for her and he sounded so sincere. Her heart was going to burst, she needed to talk to someone, she needed comfort.

She needed him.

Sango threw her arms around Miroku and hugged, burying her face in his neck. Miroku seemed so utterly shocked by this sudden form of affection, but could tell she needed a shoulder to cry on. He put his arms around her and held her to him like a child. The tears began to fall as she whispered all of her troubles to him, told him of her worries of the future and how she could not bear another moment of seeing her brother as a lifeless monster. The words came tumbling out of her and she made no attempt to hold anything back. When she fell silent, Miroku moved so he could look into her eyes. Using a thumb, he wiped her tears away.

“Sango...stop crying, don’t worry so much, we’ll save your brother. You don’t need to tear yourself up over this.” She moved a hand to his chest and rested it there.

“It’s not just watching Kohaku being manipulated that is killing me inside. It’s the thought that we might not be able to save you. Every time you draw in the insects, I lie awake worrying that you might have taken in too much poison. Every time you open your wind tunnel, I think that it will expand and consume you. And there won’t be any way for me to save you.”

Miroku was completely dumbstruck. He had no words of response to such a confession. No one has ever admitted that they cared about me that much. She just did and I have no idea what to say back.

“Sango, I–” She gave him no time to respond. Sango moved in and did the thing she had wanted to do deep in her heart for so long; she gently kissed Miroku’s mouth. All of time seemed to freeze all around them. All sounds ceased and all that matter at that moment was the feeling of their lips together. After a moment, Sango broke the kiss, but remained close to him. Miroku touched his forehead to hers. He smiled at her and touched her cheek. “Sango...no one has ever expressed such concern for me. I don’t know what to say, or how to thank you enough.”

“And no one has been willing to get seriously hurt just so they could comfort me...I’m just as lost for words as you are.” Miroku pulled her close to him and moved his mouth close to her ear.

“Then let’s be lost together.” His voice was low, intense and hushed. She was falling back onto the grass, her arms around Miroku’s neck to keep from hitting the ground too hard. He was leaning over her, such emotion in his eyes, a look of need, desire, and loneliness. She wanted to cure him of that loneliness. She knew she held that same loneliness in her eyes and when Miroku came down and kissed her again, more passionately this time, she knew he also wanted to cure that loneliness. Miroku ran his fingers through Sango’s long locks of black hair while savoring the taste of her lips against his. She ran a finger across the wound on his cheek before wrapping her arms around him and holding on as if for dear life. The monk broke the kiss and moved his mouth down to her neck while his hands began loosen the kimono. Her perfect shoulders were revealed to him and he lay gentle kisses on them. When he came to the wound he had bandaged up, he whispered to her, “I’m sorry I hurt you...” Sango’s hand found the tie on Miroku’s robes and pulled it loose.

“They are only flesh wounds, they’ll heal.” Her voice was distant, she was in completely bliss. He moved away from her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

“You know I did not mean those.” The silence that hung in the air felt like it weighed three tons. They both waited for the other to make a move, say something, anything. She knew what he meant and she did not want to discuss it, not here, not now, not when the moment was so perfect. Later, when everything was said and done. Later.

“Miroku, even the most fatal wounds, both internal and external, heal with the right amount of tenderness and care...”

“But what about that bird, the bird with the broken wing. The only way to save it was to kill it.”

“With time and a little care, the broken wing would have mended.” He looked away from her, but she put a hand on his cheek and made him look back at her. “We aren’t birds Miroku, we can heal our broken wings and when you need to fly away from danger...I’ll be there to carry you away.” Her voice was tender yet sounded so sure of itself. She was indeed sure that they could make it through the trials and tribulations if they helped each other along. Miroku leaned down and kissed her again, pulling the kimono off of her shoulders and down to her waist. Sango let out a long sigh as he lined her exposed collarbone with the most delicate of kisses. In her heart, she hoped that Miroku understood what she meant and that every word came from her heart. Deciding then that she also must embrace these feelings, to stop thinking and saying them, but to act on them. She slid her hands underneath his robes and touched that skin that had tempted her for so long.

Miroku felt Sango’s smooth hands touch his skin and he thought he was going to lose any grasp of reality he had. He never dreamed that she would return his affection like, to admit that she wanted the same things that he did. Lost in a fog of touches and her skin, he made sure to keep away from her hip that he had wounded. He did win in the end, she told him everything that was heavy on her heart and now he lay here with her, their lips meeting again and her taste was like the finest wine. He felt as if he could let down all of his emotional barriers with her, yet he didn’t. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he shouldn’t let her get close, just in case that...

A sharp pain ran throughout Miroku’s body as Sango’s hands touched his wound on his back. He broke their kiss and grit his teeth together, resisting the urge to utter an obscenity. She jerked her hands back to her and sat up, helping him move away from her. She fumbled with her kimono and managed to get it closed.

“Miroku! I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I shouldn’t have–”

“No Sango, I’m glad you did that.” Sango froze and felt a chill run down her spine. Something was not right, something sounded different, something looked different.

“Miroku? What do you mean?” He fell silent for a moment as he tied his robes back together. That silence was so eerie, so terrible, now she knew something was wrong. “Miroku, please, tell me, what’s going on?” Miroku looked at the young woman sitting before him. Her hair was slightly messy, her cheeks a rose color: she was so perfect in every way. He loved everything about her, every word, every touch: he loved absolutely everything about this girl sitting in front of him. And he loved her so much, that he had to stop. Taking her hands in his, Miroku stared into her captivating eyes.

“Sango...I can’t let this happen. I can’t allow you to get close to me. Believe me when I say this, it has absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with my feelings for you because I can assure you that you are the only one who holds my heart. It’s this fate of mine.”

“Miroku, that’s–”

“No Sango, it is a perfectly good reason.” He grasped her hands a little tighter. “What if I don’t make it? The wind tunnel has already split and gets a little wider every time I use it. My life is short, my time here limited, and it would kill me to think that I left a girl behind because I wasn’t strong enough to break this curse. Like you said, with the right amount of tenderness, care, and love, the broken wing will mend, but what of that time when the bird is helpless and alone? My broken wing is something that no amount of care can mend, no amount of time, and no amount of love. This wound of mine is fatal. I will not risk leaving you behind alone or even worse...taking you with me...” He paused for a moment and looked at the ground. Her eyes were so hard to look into right now.

“Miroku...I would die with you in an instant if–”

“No, Sango, no. I could never forgive myself if something like that happened. My soul would never rest. No Sango, I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I won’t. For now, we must hold back and keep things as they were.” He kissed the top of her hand gently before releasing them entirely. He stood and began to walk away.

“Miroku...wait.” He stopped and refused to let himself turn around. The pain in her voice was enough to tell him that her face would reveal more. “When everything is finished...when the shards are all collected and the jewel destroyed...when Naraku burns in the flames of the underworld...when everything is as it should be...will you come to me? There is no one I would rather have at my side as I re-build the Slayer’s Village...” Miroku could only smile and turned around to look at her. Her face did express all of her emotions in her voice, but this was something he needed to say to her face.

“You can count on the fact that I would be the first one there, ready to help you and Kohaku rebuild your lives.” With that said, he disappeared into the bushes. Sango stayed by the river, listening to the sounds of the forest, the water gently hitting the river bank and rocks. Her eyes traveled to the sky and she saw two birds glide through the air.

“A fatal wound...” Her voice barely sounded like her own, so distant and wistful. Sango touched the crystal water with her fingertips, smiling slightly to herself. Two white doves flew from a nearby treetop, their wings making a small flap in the breeze. A single feather fell into the water and flowed downstream. It twisted in the current before falling down a small waterfall made of stones. Vaguely, she could hear Kagome calling her name, saying that her food was getting cold. Standing carefully and making sure she looked presentable, Sango began to walk to the campsite. I’ll be one the one to hold you Miroku, I’ll be the one to mend your broken wing.

~fin.

04/19/04

I think a collective aw is in order. What I tried to do here was stay away from typical “Miroku makes all the moves and Sango stops it”. How boring. Why in the world would you want such a cannon story, so I changed it. Sango makes the first move and Miroku ends it. These two make me giggle. This story was a bitch to write at some points and I kept moving things around and changing it. It’s long too, at least for me, a one-shot for me seems to be five pages, not twelve. Oh well!