Rating: It's rated R, mes amis, because of a sudden appearance of citrus content during the rough drafts. I don't know where it came from, but it's there. If anyone's expecting a lemon… You don't even want me to try. It would be far too pathetic.
Disclaimer: I already owe three grand to the government in loans for university. Do you really think that I would have to pay that if I owned Inuyasha, or for that matter, any if Rumiko Takahashis's works? In case anybody is stoned out of their gourds, the answer is: I don't own Inuyasha. The point? I wouldn't need to own Inuyasha. Just have a fling with him. I could get to like a guy who nibbles. ^_^
AN: There's no enough Sango and Miroku fics out there. So, here's another one. My goal is to toy with every single cliché Sango and Miroku belief and fix up every single plot hole in their relationship until it as hard as… er, cement! The problem? I need more clichés and plot holes!! (I love you, Mybyrdy! I know that you already gave me some great ones! ^_^) So, PLEASE, SEND me SUGGESTIONS! I will work in as many as I can while still trying to keep the same tone throughout the whole story.
I know that their relationship has began to grow rapidly, but sadly, I haven't bought any issue farther than number 4. (Must save money till anime con….) Therefore, this happens before that certain event that made all us Sango and Miroku fans jump up and down in victory. Eventually, hopefully, if I can get enough SUGGESTIONS to keep it going, I will be able to expand past that to give their relationship even more development.
Chapter One: Touching
"Inuyasha!" screamed Kagome as she clenched her fists. She let out a grunt of rage as she tried to keep herself from screaming 'sit'. How come he had to be so obstinate? "You always have to end up getting injured and then saving me, don't you?"
The silver haired half-demon merely gave a grunt himself and hunched his shoulders a little. "Well, it's not like you're going to save yourself." Even Inuyasha was aware of the anger blazing from Kagome's brown eyes at this statement. His gold eyes automatically widened as he suddenly feared for his body. She was going to scream it, wasn't she? He immediately reacted by trying to amend his mistake. "What I meant to say is…."
Sango rolled her eyes as she turned away from the fighting pair. Miroku caught her unusual action and smiled a little, making her blush. Her blush wasn't just because she had gotten caught without her usual calm face on, but that she liked the small –unperverted- tokens she received from the handsome monk.
"Want to head back to camp?" he asked with the tone of his normal voice, showing none of the pain from the deep gashes hidden under the heavy fabric of his dark robes. Miroku felt proud when Sango nodded. He was getting much better at understanding her.
"Dressing your wounds sounds a lot more entertaining," Sango agreed as they began to walk away from Inuyasha and Kagome. Without thinking, she raised one of her hands and placed it between his shoulder blades. Her fingers at first rested gently on the fabric, and then she pressed against it as she would if she were shaking his hand, leading him to their camp. She could feel the muscles underneath his hand, feel them tighten and shift as Miroku….
"You know, that's the second time you've done that," he said, turning enough to face her. "The first time you placed your hand there was after I was injured during the fight with Kageromaru and Juromaru."
Sango tried to remember. She recalled the fight with the two demons, but had she actually touched Miroku the way she was now? Suddenly feeling very guilty and realizing that she still had her hand on his back, she removed it and clasped her hands together over her yukata. Her voice was very soft as they neared the camp. She didn't want to wake Shippo, who had slept throughout the sudden fight, with Kirara watching over him. "You seem to have a good memory of that sort of thing."
The monk smiled as he slowly bent to gather the supplies she would need with his wounded hand, holding the largest gash in his arm, his fingers sticky with his blood. "You sound as if you're surprised."
Glancing at Shippo, she found he was still asleep, and it was safe to answer. She unfurled his bedroll for him and sat upon it, waiting for him to bring Kagome's futuristic healing equipment. She couldn't help but notice the sudden color that flew to his face when he turned around and saw her kneeling quietly on his bedroll. "I've heard the stories from when we visit the bath houses in the towns you've visited before. Women can be quite the gossips. I'd imagine that men are too."
"Perhaps," he chuckled. He handed her the box and sat down beside her, watching her closely. The only sign he could find that she was aware of his staring was the way that she kept her focus closely on the first aid kit. "I don't see, Sango, how bath house gossip is related to you being surprised that I can remember things. What type of stuff do they say about me?"
"Oh, like I'm actually going to try and fuel that narcissistic nature of yours," Sango snapped with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Will you take off your robes already so that I can clean your cuts?" Miroku, of course, decided to be a pest and did nothing. Not stupid enough to actually threaten to take them off for him, she sighed. "They say that you're good looking, debate whether or not your lecherous nature is a blessing or a curse, and discuss…. Discusss…."
Sango yelled at herself for being so nervous when he came to sex. Sex was a part of life, after all, just like death. Thinking about it, discussing it, telling people how babies were born, it was natural to her, just as it would be if she were describing the aspects of death. She didn't need to like the topics, but she needed to be able to accept them. So why was she having such a hard time telling Miroku about it?
'The jerk will probably accuse me of being a pervert if I say it easily,' she reminded herself. He wouldn't be able to say anything at all if she didn't say what was on her mind.
"They discuss how you are in bed. Sexually, I mean, the few women in each village you somehow manage to share a mat with for the night. Let's face it, Miroku. You're not actually the most… virginal of men." Sango, right from the start, had taken her eyes off the box to look at him in his face, not the least bit ashamed of the topic of conversation once she was logical about it. Sango sometimes wondered if she was too logical. Miroku's face revealed nothing. "With all the women it seems you've shared a bed with, I merely find it odd that you remember something as simple as the first time I touched your back. Can you actually say the same for all the other women you tried to impregnate, either through asking them or intercourse?"
Finally, Miroku smiled nervously, his laughter just as awkward. That alone startled Sango. Miroku? Nervous from talking about sex? She'd thought it was impossible! "You're right, of course. I can't remember every woman I've ever slept with, although if I think about I long enough, I remember something special about them: a laugh, a scent, an unusual name… except for the ones I really like."
As he spoke he began to untie his robes to allow Sango the access she sought. "For instance, the first girl I ever made love to. She was quite beautiful. Came up to my chin. Her nails were short because she used to chew them when she got nervous. Her laugh was so sweet it was like she had never seen a day of hardship in her life, even though her skin was deeply tanned from work and she would probably be as strong as you, if she were alive today. She died when demons attacked her village."
Sango had been entranced by the sentimentality of his words. She had been able to feel how much he had cared for her in his words. Far from being jealous, she wished that the girl had never died. Miroku had obviously cared for her. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You couldn't have stopped it, nor were you the cause." He lifted the rest of his robes over his head, glad the fire was close so that it could warm his skin. His view was marred by this action, allowing Sango's eyes to slip down and up his body.
She dipped the cotton ball in the sterilizer Kagome had brought and took on his arms. The limb was hard under her hands. She saw Miroku wince already as she brought the swab near, and she gave him a sympathetic look. "I know. I hate this part as well."
"It's not so bad when you do it. Inuyasha had to clean them once, and he was… shit!" Miroku swore only once and then craned his neck to watch Sango work. He pursed his lips. "I forgot how much that hurt. Anyway, with you, you come up to here. You never seem to get nervous. I can recall the first time I held your hand, the first time I asked you to bear my children –and never got to finish- first time you touched my back, the first time I saw you blush, and many other things."
Sango merely glanced up as she began to clean another wound, making Miroku nervous. "I mean, it's not like I'm a stalker or anything!" he quickly protested, fearing she thought the worst. "I can't help it. I mean, I want to remember things, and then I do, but it's not like… what I mean to say is…."
Bringing down the swab, she lifted her head from inspecting his cuts and looked at his face. "You said it only happens with girls that you like. That's enough of an explanation. I'm not stupid. I know you like me. That's why you haven't been hitting on any other women. I do notice these things, even if I don't act like I do."
He opened his mouth to give her a suave answer, but changed his mind. Instead, he smiled, letting her go back to her work, if only for a moment. "So, what do these girls say about me as a lover?"
She had to try infinitely hard not to deck him for actually being so rude and egotistical as to ask her that! She felt proud of herself when she refrained, and picked up the gauze and the Band-Aids. Sango worked quickly and effectively, though tonight she was slower than normal. Sango had no business in looking at men. She was a demon slayer. That was all she wanted to be, why she had trained so hard to be one of the best in the world. It had taken years of constant working long hours, bruises, broken bones, aches and pains and hundred of other obstacles. She wasn't going to give it up just because some guy showed up and refused to let her get out of his grasp. Lately, however, when she found herself bandaging his wounds or watching him sleep, that she began to wonder what it would feel like to lean against his chest or rest her head on one of his arms.
"You know, I even remember each and every time I manage to do this," Miroku sighed, looking concentrated.
Snapping out of her thoughts, she realized that he was groping her again. With a small growl she hit him and finished bandaging his wounds as he rubbed his cheek. Sango slammed the first aid kit shut. "There. Goodnight." She stood to leave, muttering about perverts under her breath.
Rather than leave, she spun back around, and decided to confront him about it once and for all. "Will you please stop doing that? I don't care if you claim to have a hand that's possessed and that it's out of your control, it greatly disturbs me and I want you to stop right now. I don't know what's worse. Your groping or how you actually seem to like it that I hit you afterwards," she mumbled.
Miroku gave her an impossibly mischievous grin. "Nope. I won't stop, not until you tell me why. Not why you don't like me groping you, Sango. Given Kagome's reaction I've concluded that not all girls like it, and from rare visits to villages, I know I haven't lost my touch. I meant why my touching you at all disturbs you. You haven't even asked me to bind your wound for you." He gestured to her shoulder. "There's no way you could bind that yourself, surely."
"I'm going to wait for Kagome. It wouldn't be proper for you to see me in that state of undress."
"Kagome might be awhile." They stared at each other, and Miroku soon proved to have the upper hand. He crossed his arms, still grinning. "I won't stop until you tell me, Sango. And let me help with your wound. The last thing we need is to have a demon smell the scent of blood from an innocent maiden slayer such as yourself and come looking for us. We've already gotten in one fight tonight."
Grumpily, she sat back down and began to undo her yukata. She stopped, noticing that Miroku was staring, and spun around so that he would only be able to see her back. She stared at him over her shoulder. "None of that perverted stuff?"
"I swear on Buddha." Miroku raised a hand. When Sango shot him one of her demon-frightening glares, Miroku changed his oath. Of course Sango wouldn't accept on oath on Buddha when Miroku liked sake and women. "I swear on Kohaku."
That appeased her and she let the top of her yukata open to reveal the wound. Her demon slayer outfit wasn't on, as they had been going to bed when the demon attacked. Sango found the armor far too uncomfortable to sleep on, although technically she was supposed to be able to live in it and not complain. She waited for the sting of the antiseptic and instead felt a warm finger run over the large scar on her back.
"This isn't perverted!" He removed his hand and reopened the container. "So, why do you have this thing with not being touched? I touched your face, and… I touch your back and you yell at me. Why do you react that way?"
She was going to respond with 'who knows' but the way he gently moved her ponytail to the side made her remember that Miroku wasn't always a pervert. He could be quite sweet at times. "I guess there are a number of reasons," she answered. "Mostly, it's highly distracting. I can't be going into a fight with this worry that in the middle of the fight you're going to try and grope me. When I'm not concentrating on fighting, I need to keep an eye on our surroundings, and prepare myself for the next time that I see Kohaku, so I can try and come up with a way to save him."
He paused in cleaning her wound to think about her comment. He had never considered that before. Sango liked to be as aware of her surroundings as Inuyasha was, but she didn't have demonically enhanced senses, so she had to concentrate even more than Inuyasha. Miroku picked up the Band-Aid and gently placed it over the cut in her shoulder. "I always thought it was because you were shy. Whenever I flirt with you, you always get this beautiful blush, as if you were a young maiden being courted for the first time."
"Just by someone who does it so articulately," she whispered to herself. Sango froze when his fingers again traced the outline of the scars on her body. "They're just scars. You don't have to be so obvious about them." Sango started to bring up her yukata, but he refused to remove his probing hand this time. "You have your own scars you can…."
"But yours look good. You're ashamed of them, aren't you? You shouldn't be. They remind me of how strong you are, of how much you've been through and how you overcame everything that gets in your way." Once again she was reminded of how well Miroku used his words. Sometimes it seemed like he was speaking in poetry, the way the things he same came off his tongue so sincerely and effortlessly. "Personally, I admire them."
She felt her cheeks grow red, and he removed his hand, allowing her to pull up her shirt and cover herself back up. She was surprised when Miroku tenderly moved her hair off her shoulder so it hung down her back again. "Thank you."
"Whenever I get an excuse to touch your hair, there's no need for thanking me," he pointed out.
"No. Thank you for keeping your promise." He thought she was going to get up and leave, but instead she looked at him, still kneeling on his bedroll. "You don't know how much of a distraction you are to me, Miroku. Even now, like this, I… I don't know what… I….." She blushed and turned away.
He was quiet, simply watching her. "Would you like to stay up with me and wait for Inuyasha and Kagome to return?" Sango nodded. Miroku nudged closer and laid his hand overtop of hers. He followed her gaze and stared ahead into the trees. "If this is too much of a distraction, you can stop and I will understand."
Sango merely curled her fingers around his and sat with him, waiting for their friends to return.