The First Supper

Miroku's nose crinkled as he took a deep breath and forced himself to keep his smile on his face as Sango turned hopeful eyes on him.

'Burned rice,' he mourned. Then he recalled InuYasha's words when Miroku had invited the hanyou to dine with them as they had approached the new hut.

"Fuck, no; I'm eatin' with the baba."

That probably should have been his first clue something was amiss – it wasn't like InuYasha to turn down a free meal, Miroku noted on reflection. He'd thought InuYasha was simply being polite, or better yet – didn't want to interfere with any personal "Welcome Home" Sango might have cooked up for him.

After all, he and Sango had married just four days ago; he'd been gone with InuYasha on a youkai extermination for three of those. They'd come home from the celebration, christened the futon, and Miroku had been forced to leave early the next morning, before Sango had even awakened. He felt bad, but now had the beginnings of a family to support! The whole time, he couldn't wait to return to his new wife, his new home – his new life.

It was strange, he admitted, knowing he had come home from a trip. A wandering monk since he was old enough to leave the temple, home had been a very distant thought – one he didn't think he'd live to see.

Now, though… Miroku wondered just how wise it was to take up Kaede's offer to stay with her while they recovered from the battle and losing Kagome. Neither Miroku nor Sango had family (outside of Mushin and Kohaku, respectively) but that certainly didn't mean they wouldn't start their relationship without honor – they would live as apart as possible (on opposite sides of Kaede's hut) until their own hut was completed.

Miroku sat, trying to breathe shallowly, as Sango, still smiling though her eyes betrayed her hesitance, scooped him up a meal of rice, stew and a grilled fish.

"You went fishing?" Miroku asked to break the tension.

"Shippou," Sango replied. "He was looking for something to do. He misses Kagome almost as much as InuYasha."

Miroku made a noise of assent as he took a bite of the rice – and barely refrained from choking on the extra-mushy grains. It occurred to Miroku at that moment that Kaede had done all of the cooking before they moved into their own hut. Kagome, not being well-versed in the art of demon slaying, had done much of the cooking beyond grilling while they were on the hunt.

"Is it okay?" Sango asked, worrying the bottom of her kosode as she kneeled, looking incredibly anxious. "I wasn't sure… I mean, I asked Kaede, but Tomo broke his hand earlier today and Kaede was working to fix it and didn't have a lot of time to spare and I wasn't sure which of the villagers-" She blushed as she realized she was babbling in her nervousness and bit her lower lip, a habit she'd picked up from Kagome.

Swallowing the rice and taking a quick sip of water, Miroku cringed and his heart sank. She wanted to know his honest opinion… which in truth, he was not willing to give. Forcing a smile, he turned to the stew and took a bit.

It was perfectly cooked… but incredibly bland. Bland stew and mushy rice… obviously her second batch, as the smell in the hut proved at least one batch had been burned beyond repair. Perhaps he could put in a request with Kaede to get Sango some recipes...

He kept the genial smile pasted on his face and took another sip, refraining from staring into his wife's watery eyes. Miroku reminded herself that she had been a slayer from a young age and had lost her mother to Kohaku's birth; she hadn't had much experience doing wifely duties.

The thought of their first night together brought a true grin to his face and Sango perked up.

Finally, Miroku moved to the fish. It fell apart easily, and had obviously been stuffed with the greens Kagome liked to find along rivers where they caught fish. It was more than perfectly cooked: it was a reminder of all they had gone through together, all they had struggled for…

Miroku smiled. "It's perfect, Sango. Thank you."

"Oh!" She blushed. "Thank you! Would you like some more stew?"


Originally posted to LiveJournal on June 28, 2009

Word Count: 729

Prompt: "Season"