This is supposed to be a re-write of Comfort. Honestly, looking back at Comfort now, the reason why I don't like it so much anymore is because of all the dialogue.
I'm not quite sure if I have achieved what I meant to achieve. Please let me know…
Kohaku has a good heart.
He always did care about others, and never resorted to any means of violence unless it was absolutely necessary. Although I must say that when he was just a young child, I would usually intervene to defend him before the situation got out of hand.
When Inuyasha told me a long time ago, "Don't kill him, you'll just be playing into Naraku's game!", he was right. To kill Kohaku would only please Naraku, and he would laugh at my pain. Not that he hasn't already mocked me several times while I hesitate over whether or not to trap my brother, and force him to remember.
But Inuyasha sometimes forgets that words can have double meanings to them, that although on the other end Naraku is just biding his time and toying with my heart every time he sends my brother on a mission, he reminds me the reality of the situation.
I don't know if there is any chance left for Kohaku.
I don't know if I can rescue him. I don't know how to. If I force him to remember, he will suffer just as much, if not more than me. If I don't… he will remain in this state of denial, thus allowing Naraku to manipulate his mind.
There are no words that can possibly expression to Naraku for breaking me like this, for destroying my brother and diminishing the soul within. Kohaku can never be who he once was, and I…
"Sango, is it alright if I join you?" the monk's voice says, breaking me out of my thought processes. I look away, but my silence is enough of a confirmation, so he sits down beside me. After another brief moment, he speaks again, his tone unusually soft and rather compassionate. "I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to suffer alone like this." I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and instead of looking at me, his gaze is concentrated on the grass in front of us. "Is there anything I can do?"
It is my turn to look away, trying to hold back the sting of tears. I don't want to cry in front of him. I know he will understand to an extent, but to witness me like this… I don't want him to see how much I am hurting. If I am always like this when speaking of Kohaku, I don't want to become a burden. But at the same time, knowing he is there beside me is an odd sort of comfort, and for once I just want to hold onto him.
But I can't. I cannot allow myself to be so vulnerable within his presence… no matter the circumstance. I swallow back the tears and attempt to speak.
"Just… hold me."
And he does. His arm slowly encircles my back and pulls me closer to him, and I close my eyes. For one moment, I just want peace. I'm so tired of fighting this battle within myself, trying so hard to justify for Kohaku's position.
We sit in silence for several moments., and I lean against him. He is my strength, my comfort. My closest partner.
Suddenly, I can no longer hold back the tears. I try to restrain myself from breaking down, but I can't help it. The tears spill over my cheeks, and I am helpless. Even as I hastily wipe them away, I can sense his concern. He doesn't say anything as I cover my face with my hands, and instead just holds me tighter, silently offering support.
I'm sorry Kohaku is being controlled, and I'm sorry I can't do anything, and I'm sorry you have to see me like this… I'm sorry I'm not strong enough, Houshi-sama…
I choke out the last part aloud, attempting to cease my tears and regain control of myself. His hand moves up and down my back, trying to soothe me. His voice is very low when he speaks.
"It is not your fault, Sango." He pauses, apparently taking his time to decide what to say next. "You are strong. You are the strongest person I have ever known."
"I was supposed to be the big sister… to protect him…." I continue brokenly. "I can't do this anymore… I can't…"
"You don't have to," he says softly, shifting away just enough so that he can lift my chin. I have no choice but to meet his gaze. It reflects nothing but sincere concern and utmost honesty. "You have me."
I stare desperately at him for a long moment, then lower my gaze back down and rest against his shoulder. I am too tired, too emotionally worn out to say anything, but he knows I appreciate his efforts. We continue to sit there in silence, and at last he speaks again, although his words sound strangely distant as I am becoming sleepy.
"It will be alright, Sango."
Completed: August. 30th, 2006