String of Fate

Description: A red string of fate tied their destinies together. They would compliment one another, understand one another, and be destined to find one another. Even if there was no sense in it. (SessSan)

Chapter One

There was an old tradition in her culture – the taijiya had marriage customs, like any other culture in her time. This one was unusual, but it involved the couple visiting a demonic village in the east in order to see if they were truly meant to be. This custom was time honoured, sacred. But as someone who had been snatched away from the opportunity to truly visit these customs with her family, she had never been able to fully accept something so ridiculous. While she understood that even a demon held valuable information, she did not understand how a demon could descipher that someone was meant to be with another. Love could not be tied down to the whims of a being that had some sort of external knowledge. The truth was, she always believed love was tied to emotions. Sango's emotions had always been clear, always led her to what she wanted.

Her ideal marriage was the one she had seen between her parents. Their love had been strong, unbreakable. She had seen how much they loved one another, despite knowing that they had never been in love. When her mother died not long after Kohaku's birth, the bond between them was visible in how her father was patient with Kohaku's progress as a Taijiya. No matter what happened, Kohaku became the object of love through which he felt his dead wife. Sango desired something similar, a bond that was tied beyond death. That bond was not built from the fortune telling of a demon, despite the fact that her parents had gone to this demon, out of a sense of tradition. They had been meant for one another, and it came from knowing each others strengths and weaknesses. This was how Sango knew what she desired in her life. She had seen it from early on, experienced it in the way her parents had loved one another. She had not seen any sign that a demon could magically tell you were or were not meant to be with someone.

Even so, when Miroku approached her about making their engagement formal, after Naraku's eminent demise, she thought back to the traditions from her village. The many customs they used to welcome a new couple, the ways they made them feel at home. If her family survived, she would not be marrying Miroku. She would likely have found a suitable partner in her village. But they believed the demon who resided in the east far more than any bonds and customs. Her village would have scrutinized her decision and questioned the coupling. Whether the demon was true or not, the tradition was important.

If her family lived, they would have welcomed Miroku with open arms. They would have prepared bouquets of wild flowers for Sango, and given Miroku a meal to signify that he was one of them. He would have donned a ceremonial version of the taijiya outfit, in a dark blue. They would have, together, been at the head of a table for their meal, as husband and wife. These customs made her stomach ache, made her crave what would have been. But none of these customs existed in a world where the taijiya were wiped out. The distant clans in the North and the South did not have the same sort of customs, thus leaving her craving for the traditions of her time, now that she was about to embark on marriage.

In her mind, she had to question what she was doing. Marriage had somehow moved up on her list of to-do now that Naraku had died. There seemed to be an urgency to have children, to settle down. Miroku deeply desired it. It would mean giving up her life as a taijiya, giving up her constant mourning of Kohaku's death, as she had in the days since Naraku died. He had perished amidst the final battle, and with him went the final part of her family. With having children, she gave up the idea of waiting near the bone-eaters well with Inuyasha every day, until he could hold his beloved Kagome. She could see, with a bitterness, just how powerful Inuyasha's love for Kagome was. Although she did not know how, their love transcended being apart. Inuyasha kept saying he didn't need to be with her to love her. Sango did not feel the same around Miroku, and there was a need for physical presence. They had to be married, she had to have children, or Miroku would need to find another.

If she had to give in, if she had to settle down, simply for the sake of not losing another person, why not do the only remaining, possible traditions from her clan? She knew them all, knew which ones she could do. She could have Rin give her a bouquet of flowers. She could ask Kaede to prepare a massive dinner, and help, so she and Miroku could sit at the head together. She could go with Miroku and pray at the sacred space where Midoriko rested, and ask for her blessings in this marriage.

And, as she had decided, she could go with Miroku to the village in the North, where they would find out if they were truly meant to be together. Even if they weren't, she had decided she would be with him regardless. There was no such thing as fate, or destiny. There was only bonds. She had one with Miroku, created from their time together, as companions, as partners. Marriage was the next step. Marriage had to be the final step – or she had no idea what her true future really was.

Kirara had flown them a good portion of the way before she needed rest, and then once again taken off into the air. They followed the trail to this village, which was made of mostly demons. It was an unusual mix. Humans and demons in harmony. The humans were kind, but it was the demons who maintained this place. The harmony had been intact when Sango last heard of it, three years ago when her village had sent one couple there on a beautiful pilgrimage for their marriage. They returned, together, full of happiness at being called soulmates. They said the demon told them their strings of fate were tied together. As she felt Miroku's hand on her waist, his close proximity, she tried to imagine that for her. What if she was told he was the one? What if this demon said they were bonded by fate too? Would she believe it? Would it make the notion of marriage easier?

Nothing would. Sango could not imagine herself a wedded woman, even when Miroku leaned into whisper in her ear that he couldn't wait for their wedding. She snorted, out of habit, and commented on how he couldn't wait for the wedding night. After all, she had never been with a man before. Sango believed in waiting, believed in the idea of being with one person. Miroku likely did not. Even so, she could not picture it. She only pictured the after of it – children, a settled life, not being a taijiya anymore. She relented. With no threat to truly draw her away from here, she had to consider her options. What did she have to do besides settle down, as traditions went in her home?

If they hadn't died, what would she have done differently?

Alas, when Kirara lowered before a small village, she saw what she had been described, many times, in the past, by the other taijiya. By her brothers and sisters in arms. She saw a beautiful, floral village, with an obvious mix of humanoid demons and humans wandering around. There were trees, huts, fires, and food around. The entire scene was complimented by the smell of flora in the air, filling her nostrils even as she just landed. The expression she had, most likely of a sort of unimaginable bliss, remained, even when she felt Miroku's hand inching too low. She could not imagine a more peaceful place. While new residents were not allowed here, as she had been told as a child, couples could visit. The taijiya village had adopted this tradition, but many other couples visited on their own to have their bond assessed. Supposedly, the demon could see where a string was attached between two fingers – one end on each partner. Sango supposed it was a demonic power native to this demon type, but she had never heard of it outside of here. This demon existed since before the taijiya village did, as this was a time honoured tradition. Sango could only imagine how powerful a demon had to be to create such a serene, beautiful place.

What more, Miroku even glanced at it, his hand retracting. Sango had to dismount first, and Miroku's frozen stare brought a smile even to her face. Despite the stress of the past few days, where the decision to marry had truly impacted her, she found Miroku's shock, his astonishment, truly happy. It was the only time he wasn't smug about what they were going to do once they were married. It was the only time he didn't remind her that he wanted children. It was the only time he didn't remind her that she was marrying him to bear his children.

He eventually leaped off of Kirara, steadied with his staff. Sango's hiraikotsu remained on her back. Together, they approached the village. She hesitated to hold his hand, but she felt him seek her hand out with his. While he did nothing unusual for a fiancé to do to his betrothed, she still felt unusual. The pressure to avoid him increased as they entered the boundaries of the village. Why show your bond? Why did she have to? Wasn't feeling it enough? Why did Miroku insist on this level of physical endearment?

Perhaps her picture of romance, her picture of a marriage, was different from his. He had different values brought on by how different he was, how different he had become to deal with the difficulties of his life.

Once entering, a demon approached them. He glanced between them, and slowly smiled, revealing curved fangs. His eyes, a beady yellow, slowly turned upward. "After so many years, a taijiya – and a monk! What a wonderful pair," he exclaimed. Sango felt a pink blush on her cheeks, while Miroku gave a good natured smile. "Thank you," she responded. "As you seem to know, my clan had a tradition of coming here to see the demon Akashiro, to see if their partner and their bond was fated. I'm here to uphold that tradition."

The demon gave a pleased nod. He was smiling widely, and then pointed to a larger building in the village. The rooftop was curved, and far higher than the rest. "Lady Akashiro is in that building. I request that you leave your weapons here. No one will touch them. This village exists beyond the boundaries of time and space, only couples may enter this village before their engagement to see if they are truly meant to be, and leave. Your weapons will be safe until you are ready to go," he explained. They obeyed immediately, Miroku leaving his staff at the side of the building they were near.

She hesitated. Her hiraikotsu had been her companion for far longer than she could remember. To set it aside would mean giving up a considerable amount of her own strength. She trusted no one, especially in the world she was living in. To be separated from her ties to her village, from her strength, would be difficult. But to do it for the traditions her mother and father believed in was more important. She could be without her weapon for a moment or two. But this visit was the difference between disappointing herself and upholding traditions. She would do what was needed, and that meant putting her taijiya warrior away. The feeling of setting aside her weapon disturbed her inside, especially when she set it against the wall, and it was traded for Miroku's hand, catching hers in time. He smiled down at her, and she attempted to return the gesture. But to an ongoing unusual awkwardness that seemed to fully instill on what they were doing.

Was this truly a good idea? Why was this tradition created? To instill doubt or hope?

Questions plagued her, and they walked to the larger hut. The shade was made of straw, but flowers hung from it on string. The smell of tea drifted in from inside. She could smell green tea leaves, and a pleasant sweet scent. The tea had to have a fruit mixed in. She had been told the demon is usually aware of visitors, and as the head of the village, will permit couples. It will assess them based on how they carry themselves, and eventually see if the bond is there. The couples who returned were always happy. Sango could only assume she would come out knowing Miroku was the one.

The shade was pulled aside by a woman with large ears. She had a oval face, long lavender hair, and pink hued eyes. Her lips were a cherry red. The demon woman, Akashiro, was beyond beautiful. She had an elegant kimono on, and her obvious allure was hinted at by the print of red flowers and strings on her obi. She smiled radiantly, and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. "Do come in. I've waited eagerly. You took so long to pass the gate," she said. Her voice was gentle, deep. She was likely a demon of very old and powerful means. Sango shuddered to imagine how powerful she was. Few demons masked power with so much of a guise. Akashiro was masking her true strengths by covering them up in this village. This entire village was likely protected by her strength.

They crossed the threshold together, and Sango immediately drew her hand out of Miroku's grasp. She stood there as Akashiro moved to the other side of an oval table. Tatami mat covered the ground, and cushions – three, were laid around the table. Akashiro took the one furthest from the door and gestured to the other two. "Please, do sit. You will find my tea is wonderful," she said.

Sango chanced a look at Miroku, but the effect of Akashiro's words were evident. He sat immediately, and his eyes never left her. Men found beauty enchanting. It was true – even Inuyasha had found beauty unmistakable. But Sango could tell Inuyasha only had eyes for Kagome. He did not demand pups from her, or mating. But for Miroku, children was a must. Sango was not the deciding factor.

Still, she eventually sat on her knees, and reached out for the tea. One sip made her throat burn. The tea was hot, but it tasted relaxing. She could taste rose petals in it, and the subtle hint of cherry blossom. This was a floral tea. She sipped more, while Miroku seemed still, unmoving. "As you know, I am Akashiro. The clan leader, and the only remaining demon who can read strings of fate," she began. She took a sip of her tea, and the hum of appreciation she made showed she enjoyed her own tea very much. Sango watched, but she was not mesmerized as Miroku was. She became nervous. Soon, they would know how compatible they were. Soon she would hear that she was destined to be with Miroku. Soon she would know her decision was right, and that she would have children, and settle down.

The power she felt as a taijiya was only fleeting.

Clammy fingers, nervous smile, Sango was the picture of someone who did not know what she was doing. Miroku sitting beside her served in no way to calm her. Instead, she relied on Akashiro's smile and soft eyes for her own comfort.

Akashiro lowered her glass, and as Miroku took a sip, she glanced them over. Their hands, which rested on the table, were where her gaze was, for a moment. "Now, tell me your names. And a—" she began, stopping abruptly. Her eyes lingered on their fingers, her voice cut off suddenly. It was when she took in an astonished gasp, that Sango snapped back to attention. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Miroku too was alerted. The cups remained on the table, but Akashiro immediately stood up. "You two must separate. Move away from each other," she demanded.

Her voice took on a crude, serious nature. Sango, mostly out of shock, moved away. She shuffled away from Miroku, and stood. He followed suit. The unexpected words hit Sango hard. What happened? Did something attack the village? In the back of her mind, she went back to the role of the taijiya immediately. She was, after all, trained to battle and protect. As someone who had spent her life training to defeat demons, the very idea of danger always meant a demon. Just as any major catastrophe meant Naraku, she had been trained internally to process in a different way. Akashiro's reaction meant danger, and she considered danger differently.

But Akashiro continued to stare at their hands, that had been conjoined together moments before. "You are not fated. Your strings are attached elsewhere," she said, breaking the silence. "His string is connected to a human. And your string-.. your string is connected to a demon."

The words hushed her, and Sango could not process it. Her heart gave a lurch, and despite herself, she looked over at Miroku. His gaze had not once faltered from Miroku, although his was trained ahead. In this instance, she wanted to be told it was a lie. To be told Miroku and her had a bond. She had come here believing these words would have no affect on her. She had decided that she was fine as she was, about to be with someone who she had travelled with for three years. They had been pushed together by circumstance. She could bear children, give up the life she had now. She could become an ideal wife for Miroku, who would become a monk. But she did not ever consider the possibility that these words would affect her so much. The idea that Miroku could be fated for someone else – but more disturbingly, that she was fated for a demon.

A demon.

"No.. no there's no way. What do you mean, a demon?" she asked, in a voice that rose hysterically. She looked back at Akashiro. The power, the knowledge Akashiro had was clear in how she was carrying herself. Only powerful demon could do that. But a prediction like this was impossible. Sango was never destined for anything. She chose her happiness, chose her life.

She chose Miroku, even if what he wanted was not what she had originally desired in her life.

But Akashiro frowned, and the beautiful appearance she had faded. "Please, Elder Akashiro," Miroku intervened. His voice did sound nervous. Both of them had been shaken by this revelation. Had they expected to be destined for one another? Did he think that, because she agreed to his terms, she was truly meant to be with him? Other women were willing to bear his children, right? Sango was not the only one who had said yes, although she assumed she was the one who had been around longest, and thus fulfilled the role quickest. She was a powerful woman, and having multiple children required a powerful body. She assumed that was part of her draw, added to with her personality, her willingness to make it work. Did it hurt him that they were not destined for one another?

"You must understand. This has not happened in over one hundred years," Akashiro said, in a voice that sounded disturbed. "The last time this happened, was when Inu no Taisho had come with his mate, and found that his fated red string was attached to a human," she interrupted. While the name seemed familiar, Sango breezed over that and instead thought to the idea that she was attached to a demon. A slayer being tied to a demon. The unusuality of it made her all the more nervous. Would Miroku leave her? Would he not want her because they were destined for others?

Did she really care so much about petty predictions?

Akashiro reached to the side, plucking three coloured strings. "Pink means a human and a human, attached forever. He has a pink string," she began, and then pointed at his index finger. "It leads to somewhere else fading off. When his true mate is with him, his string will show, attached to her finger. And she will come – they always come."

The words were like a stone, hitting her skull. His truly destined partner will come into his life eventually. She would have his children, and then he would find someone who loved him more. Sango thought of how much that would hurt. He would not want her if he fell in love with this human woman. He would want her. The love showered on her would fade. In essence, she would truly become just what she thought of herself as if she married him – his child bearing wife. The look Akashiro gave her confirmed the thoughts she had. This marriage was only waiting to be broken apart. Not only was Miroku meant to be with someone else, but Sango herself had a demon she would eventually be fated to. And even if she avoided that, she could not avoid Miroku finding his human partner.

A demon slayer could slay a demon, but a human was untouchable.

"Blue is between demon and demon," she continued, holding it up. "And red…"

She held up the red string, and Sango stared at it for a moment. She could feel anxiety, sadness, welling up inside of her. "Red is when any demon – half, whole – is connected by the red string of fate to a human. And your string, it is the most vibrant red I have seen. It reminds me of Inu no Taisho's string. A blood red. The demon you are to belong with is a powerful demon, and the time is right for you to find—"

"Let's go Miroku," she decided. She turned, her heart hammering in her chest. Her mind spinned with possibilities of what she would do, how she would handle it. The fruitlessness of her marriage was in her eyes, in her mind. She felt her eyes close, the very idea of the pain of what she was about to do enter her chest. She grabbed Miroku by the arm, forgetting the enchanting moment where they held hands. And she looked ahead, only stopping at the threshold. "I don't believe in destiny. I believe in bonds, Lady Akashiro. Miroku and I have journeyed together, understand one another and have the same goals."

"But do you? Do you truly want to become his child bearer, and give up helping others? You are not happy with that, even I can see so," was what Akashiro responded with. "I think you don't understand, Sango. Your red string of fate is not simply to someone who is destined for you. It points to someone who will equal you, fulfill you and always keep what you desire in mind. That is true love. And it will come to you soon."

Sango heard every word. She heard things she did not believe to be true, heard things she could fantasize were true. But overall, she did not know how to react to what she was hearing. Love? Love with someone she had never journeyed with, grown up with? Her parents had known one another forever. How could she fall in love with someone based on a string attached to her finger?

With a thank you, she walked out of the hut, with Miroku following behind her. She swept hiraikotsu up, and walked out of the village. As soon as she was near Kirara, Miroku joined her, and the village bled out of sight. It was gone in an instance. Still, she had to take a deep breath, still her beating heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, and thought of everything she had learned in such a short period of time. Traditions were rooted, after all, I practices that affected people. Her tradition had uprooted her entire life, her plans, all in an instance. Would Miroku's destined love find him? What was the point in this if she did?

She climbed on Kirara, and when Miroku climbed on after her, she ignored his voice. It took less than four hours to return to Kaede's village. When they landed, and Inuyasha came over to greet her, she excused herself. "I need to think. Please," she began. And gave Miroku a look that indicated she did not want him there. She did not want to consider what would happen if he heard her. It was Inuyasha who followed her, who refused to let her be alone. Sometime since they both lost Kagome, who was precious to them, and since Sango lost Kohaku, their relationship had become far more like siblings. Inuyasha and her had found a bond that let him speak to her, and let her speak to him.

She settled on the bone eaters well, sitting on the ledge. He mirrored, sitting on the ground. Silence filled the air, until he finally asked what happened. "Did she tell ya what you wanted to hear?" he asked. His curious question made her wipe her eyes, the beginnings of tears showing. She had been told what she did not want to hear. She was told what she had thought impossible. "We're not… he's going to be fated for someone else, and me too," she began. Now she felt herself harden, and look at him with the same agony that she saw him give her in the past, when discussing his life without Kagome. She would have to endure this. A life where she was uncertain about what would happen ."The demon said that I'm not happy with Miroku. That the demon I'm supposed to be with will actually understand me. But-.. but I don't know anything except Miroku. I've known him for three years. How do… How am I supposed to…"

In her words, in the tears she started crying, she looked away. Inuyasha stood up and enveloped her in a hug, until all she could feel was the loss. She would not marry Miroku now. Not when she was uncertain of what he felt, what they both felt.

"I don't really care what he does, but you've gotta think for yourself," Inuyasha said, in a low voice. She felt his arms remove themselves, and he looked down the well. "It's one thing to be with someone because you love them, and its another to mistake duty for love. Even if your string of fate or whatever is tied to someone else, you're still going to have to think about what you want first. I know I did with Kagome. I love her, and I knew it because we want the same things."

Want the same things. She thought of what she wanted. Truly, she did not know. Did she want love? Did she want children? Did she want to give up being a taijiya to raise a family? And did she trust the odds of her true 'demon' love arriving in time to whisk her away? Of Miroku's destined love not showing up and leaving Sango with nothing?

Now, in her prime, with a powerful body, she could travel and earn a name for herself. But if she had children, there was a reliance on Miroku.

Did she want that?

"For once," Inuyasha said, before he turned around. "You should try to do what Kagome did. Do what your head is really telling you to. Instead of just doing what works best in a situation. If it leads you to leaving Miroku, to go with a demon, you do what you got to do."

And with that, he'd walked away. She was alone, contemplating his words. He was right, as always. Inuyasha did know exactly how to respond to a situation. But even more difficult was what he had implied.

Who was this demon? What kind of a demon would embrace the idea of getting to know a human so closely? What would she do now?