“Miroku’s Bedtime Stories”
by Mindmelda
Chapter Six:
Sango’s Turn
In the end, it was Sango’s hiraikotsu that brought down the otter demon.
Miroku’s Kazaana was useless under water, where the giant kawauso was waiting to lure them to their deaths.
Kagome fired off a sacred arrow, and missed as the kawauso dived deep into the river, it’s sinuous body roiling up waves.
The Tetsusaiga was doing nothing in Inuyasha’s hands. His focus was poor and the wind-scar undetectable. He swore.
“Shit!” He tried again. Nothing.
“Move aside!“ he heard Sango’s voice command. She handed off Shippou to Kagome’s care from behind her on Kirara, who had changed into her giant form.
As the giant otter surfaced once again for air, Sango’s hiraikotsu went flying across the waters and cleanly sliced off the youkai’s hideous head.
A shard of the Shikon no Tama fell into the waters of the river.
“I’ll get it!” cried Kagome.
She put down her bow and quiver quickly and dived into the river. In the murky waters, the Shikon shard gleamed and she grabbed it in her fist, pushing upwards through the gloom until her head suddenly burst into the midday sunlight.
“Got it!” she exclaimed triumphantly. She swam to shallower water.
Inuyasha waded out to her and pulled her up.
“Come on Kagome, get on.”
He hoisted her up on his back, first removing his haori and wrapping it around her.
Miroku climbed aboard Kirara and held onto Sango’s armor. Shippou was now in Sango’s lap.
They were going back to the village with their hard-earned prize.
There was a celebration in the village that night. They were free of the kawauso’s threat.
Inuyasha noticed that the villagers seems less fearful of him. Some of them even smiled. A older woman brought him a steaming bowl of food, and bowing, turned around and left.
Several village maidens huddled around the houshi as he strummed his lute.
“Oh, houshi-sama, will you tell us how you bravely destroyed the kawauso?” one tittered at him.
He looked up and saw Sango’s face in the firelight. She was sitting with a dish of uneaten food on her lap, frowning.
Miroku stood up, suddenly.
“I’m very sorry ladies, but I have to go now.”
Various feminine sounds of disappointment accompanied this declaration.
He walked over to where Sango sat listlessly staring into the fire and sat down alongside of her.
“Shouldn’t this be your night?” he asked.
She jumped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” Her face reddened a little.
“Why are you just sitting here?” he asked her quietly. “After all, this is all in your honor. It was you who slew the kawauso.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, avoiding his eyes and shrugging.
“It matters to me,” he said, grabbing her chin and gently forcing her eyes upward.
She gasped.
“You can’t mourn forever,” he said. “Life goes on. Nothing is more powerful than the will to live.”
She pulled her face out of his light grasp.
“I know, but it’s hard,” she whispered.
“Yes, it is.” Unconsciously, he twisted the prayer beads wrapped around his cursed hand.
He pulled her to her feet. “Come, walk with me, then, if you wish.”
She nodded.
They walked down to the river’s edge. The quiet lapping of the current against the shore was soothing.
Miroku sat down on a large flat rock and indicated she should sit beside him.
“I promise, no wandering hands,” he grinned at her, winking.
“I’ll hold you to that, houshi-sama,” she smiled back, weakly.
“What can I say, my Lady Sango?” he grinned, his eyes and teeth flashing in the moonlight. “I’m a man cursed by many vices, not the least of them an unquenchable admiration for beautiful women.”
She sat tentatively down next to him. “I’m not beautiful, so I guess I’m safe,” she joked.
His eyes widened. “Don’t say that!” he exclaimed, serious now.
“Why not,” she asked, “Its true. I know my own virtues, houshi-sama. I’m strong, I’m brave, and many other things, perhaps, but not beautiful.” She looked down at her callused hands, roughed by years of deftly handling the hiraikotsu.
“I’m a warrior,” she said, “Warriors are not beautiful women. Warriors have scars, and calluses. Their faces are darkened by the sun and their hands are rough. “
He was astonished. She felt she was ugly? Because she wasn’t delicate, and white and pampered? Soft and compliant? No, she was Sango. Sango had her own beauty. It was strength and courage and caring for her friends.
“But you are beautiful, my Lady Sango,” he protested gently.
“Come and see,” he took her hand and led her down to kneel the water’s edge. A small pool of calm water reflected the moonlight.
Her face next to his shone in the still water. “Kirei na,” he whispered in her ear.
A tear slowly trailed down her face. “Arigato, Miroku,” she said quietly.
He was so close, his warm breath tickled the fine hairs on her nape and she shuddered, suddenly.
“Cold?” his rich voice tingled her skin again.
“N-no, I’m fine,” she stuttered. “The others will be missing us, houshi-sama,” she said, jumping up.
He still held onto her hand. He stood up, too.
“No, they saw us leave,” he said seriously. “No one will worry.”
“Are you afraid to be alone with me, Sango?” he asked silkily.
“I-I don’t know.”
“You shouldn’t be, I’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said earnestly.
Looking into his eyes, she saw it was true.
“I only want you to be happy again,” he said.
“Why?” she asked, pulling her hand away.
“Everyone deserves to be happy,” he replied. “Life is short.”
“Shorter for some than others,” she said softly, looking pointedly at his cursed hand.
His eyes grew shuttered. “Yes,” he said to her simply.
She impulsively reached out and took the gloved and wrapped hand. She placed a gentle kiss on his covered palm.
He tried to pull his hand away.
“No, Miroku.”
He relented. She placed his hand on her waist. His eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“Kiss me.” She closed her eyes and waited.
He gently kissed her offered lips. A chaste kiss.
“Why?” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t want to die never having been kissed,” she said simply. “Don’t you feel that way?”
“Yes,” he said.
He kissed her again, and she returned it in an inexperienced but fervent fashion, trying to figure out where lips and noses fit together.
He chuckled against her searching mouth. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing, Sango, it’s just that you’re so eager,” he said, pulling back his head and brushing her lips with his thumb
“I know I’m no good at this,” she said, turning her head away.
“It’s all right,” he said, “I’ll show you.” He placed his hand against her cheek and guided her face to his.
Pressing his lips gently against hers, he whispered, “Open your mouth a little, sweet one,” and he touched her lower lip with his tongue, begging entrance.
She complied and felt his warm breath invade her mouth along with his gently probing tongue. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was like he was tasting her and couldn’t get enough. Warm sensations ran down her arms and met in her stomach and flowed back again to where he touched her.
She responded by pushing her tongue against his to see if that felt good. too. He groaned against her mouth. He liked it. His hands pulled her in closer.
She needed to breathe, though! They broke off slowly, panting a little. She pushed him away slightly. She felt a little dizzy.
“So, that’s a kiss,” she said in a breathless voice against his shoulder.
He gave a shaky laugh. “Yes.”
“I’ll always remember it,” she said, looking up at him and smiling into his eyes.
“It won’t be the last,” he said, taking her arm and leading her back towards the village.
“Promise me?” she asked.
“I promise.”
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