II.

Sweet Buns

Sango sat relaxing against the doorframe of the house, watching the summer rain fall down. It had been raining non-stop for three days, putting a damper on all their moods. Kagome had left for her own time, ensuring that Inuyasha was in a doubly foul mood.

Pit, pat. Pit, pat.

Raindrops splashed into puddles, making little raindrops and waves. Shippo floated boats made of leaves on the growing puddles, but even he was getting bored of the rain. It was a hot, sticky summer evening. Sango's clothes stuck to her chest and her hair had become slightly wavy from the humidity.

Pit, pat.

She glanced up at the sound of footsteps. Miroku was walking towards where she sat. He smiled at her, but even his friendly face was strained from the constant rain. His hair was damp with sweat, as curled as Sango's own. She felt her lips pull up into a smile when she realized that he had struggled hard to keep his thick hair pulled into place in the heat. He kept the rain off with a familiar umbrella and he carried a package with him. He paused at the doorway and then sat down beside Sango.

Pit, pat. Pit, patter. Pit, pit.

“Lots of rain.”

“Yes.”

“Think it will let up soon, Sango?”

“I hope so, Houshi-sama.”

Pitter, patter. Splosh went Shippo's leaf-boat.

“Kagome returned,” Miroku said.

“Let's hope she brought some good weather back with her.”

Pitter. Scooch. Patter.

Miroku moved closer to Sango, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain striking around them. He opened the package he held to reveal white pastry buns. He offered one to Sango. It was still warm, but it was still a welcome treat.

“Kagome brought them back for us. Sweat bean buns. Her mother was told that pregnant women crave them, and when she heard about you, she thought you would like some.”

“Kagome's mother is a darling.” Sango took one of the buns in one hand, and with the other she brushed her stomach. She had missed her period three times now, but still her belly was showing no signs of swelling. Sango was thankful for it. She couldn't imagine becoming so large that she couldn't see her own feet. It made Miroku, though, worry.

Pitter, pit, pitter.

“How is the heat, Sango?”

“Bearable. How can you still be wearing your stuffy robes?”

He chuckled. She had been asking him that since the summer heat wave started. Miroku was thankful for the summer heat. Had it not been for that warm summer night the year before, he might never have been able to get Sango in bed with him. It was a chase he was almost as glad to have been victorious in as it was a chase he regretted being over. “Because if every girl reacted the way you did to me skinny dipping to relieve the heat, Sango, we'd have a village of pregnant girls.”

Pat, pit, pat. Pit, pit.

She turned the sweet bean bun over in her hands. It had cooled a little. Sango lifted it and took a bite. It was warm and gooey. She licked her lips, feeling her tongue glide over the sticky paste without removing it from her dry lips. The taste was delicious. She could feel the paste sticking to the roof of her mouth. Miroku leaned over and kissed the paste from her lips.

The sound of the rain stopped for a second.

Pit, pit, patter, pit.

And then it began again.

He reached down to take a bite from the bun in her hands. Sango watched the delicacy of his mouth close. He ate without making a mess of the paste. His eyes watched her, not the bun. Then his mouth closed around one of her fingers, cleaning it from the floury residue of the paste. Sango felt warm and uncomfortable.

“It's too hot.”

“The bun tastes perfect to me,” he purred.

“The heat, not the bun.”

“Oh. Yes, the heat is too hot.”

Pat, pat.

The rain kept falling.