Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this brief encounter... especially for the one who's very likely away without leave. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

Wait Up

Sango pretended not to notice when the annual influx of summer campers didn't include a certain amorous monk. She'd shrugged it off, then squared her shoulders. It was to be expected. Miroku was twenty, well beyond the age when visitors picked up a normal life. He's probably off at some university, far from our mountain. "Good riddance," she grumbled.

Well, well... better late than never, remarked Hiraikotsu blandly, startling Sango from her thoughts.

"What...?" she began, but her mouth snapped shut when she spotted a familiar figure strolling up the mountain road. Three weeks late. And smiling as if he hadn't a care in the world. "You!" she exclaimed, suddenly furious.

"Me," agreed Miroku, leaning upon his staff as he searched her face. "You're a welcome sight, my dear Sango."

"I'm not your dear anything!" she automatically snapped.

"On the contrary," he returned amiably. "Which brings me to my point."

His abruptness threw her off, and she eyed him warily. "Let's hear it."

"Mushin kidnapped me!" he dramatically revealed. "Since last autumn, it's been one temple after another, and he doesn't mean to stop for another few years."

"Oh," she said blankly. "Is that where you were?"

Miroku's eyes twinkled. "Did I make you wonder?"


"You're a terrible liar," he replied warmly.

"Your plans are not my concern," she retorted loftily.

"Not so." Miroku held her gaze and bluntly asked, "Will you wait for me?"

Her grip on Hiraikotsu slipped.

Face him as you would any opponent, warned her weapon. Answer his challenge!

Sango straightened and demanded, "Must you always try my patience?"

"For a little longer."

"And after that?"

"For as long as you'll have me," he promised.

To her annoyance, color seeped into her cheeks, so she delivered her answer with a stern glare. "Fine."

With a gusty sigh, he murmured, "Thank goodness." And with that, he turned to go.

"You walked all the way up here just for that?"

"Yes," he candidly replied. "Why? Would you like something more?"

Sango hesitated, but Miroku did not. His kiss promised more than he was free to give... yet. As he walked away, the spring in his step matched the skip of her heart.

End Note: This drabble was originally written for the Live Journal community iyfic contest and their prompt for Week 269—Dirt. My contest entry was necessarily pruned to 250, but this version stands at 365 words. Originally posted on November 22, 2011.