Disclaimer: The Inuyasha characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi.
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Break
By Starzki
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We weren't sure if the bone was broken.
My friends crowded around me, full of concern. It wasn't at all like me to fall in battle, especially in a battle with a simple snake demon. They were worried that far darker forces were at responsible for my misstep and injury. I've had extensive training in battle in all conditions, after all.
It wasn't the injury that hurt me the worst. My ego had taken the biggest hit.
I was angry and disgusted with myself. The recent rain had made the ground slick and soft. I was sure that I had compensated for it and adjusted my footing well enough to destroy the demon with my accustomed ease.
But I slipped.
Not only did I strain a muscle in my right thigh when I tried to correct my balance, I also fell to the ground and became trampled under the demon, causing severe trauma to my left collarbone. The fall had been bad. It was bad enough that I doubted she would have rallied in time to save myself, save my own life, if Inuyasha hadn't taken care of the demon for me.
I refused to meet the anxious faces of my friends as they hovered over me. I gently probed at my left collarbone with shaking fingers. "It's not broken," I announced finally. "I think it's just dislocated."
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I couldn't help repeating it over and over. How pathetic. I couldn't even take care of a weak snake demon without help. Knowing that I would only continue to wallow in self-censure if I didn't move, I struggled to stand and nearly cried out at the pain in my thigh. Inuyasha immediately noticed the leg injury that would slow our retreat back to Kaede's village. I saw his narrowed glance and felt his quiet reproach.
Kagome was instantly at my side, unquestionably ready and responsible in her miko duties. She found extra fabric and chatted about nothing things as the others did their best to wait patiently as I was nursed. I know she was trying to cheer me out of my dark mood as she fashioned a sling that would limit the movement in my left arm and hopefully quell any potential pain I would have until the bone was put back in place, but I felt my despair grow. It was all wrong. I was all wrong.
"It'll be okay, Sango-chan," Kagome consoled. "We're just a few hours from Kaede's. We'll get you all fixed up there and you'll get a chance to rest."
I frowned and bit my tongue. I shouldn't need a rest. I needed to be ready to go at a moment's notice just in case there was an opportunity to fight for Kohaku.
Probably guessing that I was beating myself up for causing a delay, Kagome redoubled her efforts, "It's okay. Really. You'll bounce back from this like you always do."
"I was careless," I finally admitted, giving a small voice to my guilt. It felt disproportionate. I wanted to scream it, to give it the full weight of what it deserved, announce my flaws to the heavens; but, I was afraid that once I started, I might not be able to stop.
"It was a slip. It was an accident. You didn't do anything wrong," soothed Kagome.
I couldn't find a way to want to take comfort in those words. They didn't lessen my guilt, my anger at myself.
"I can't afford to make these mistakes," I mumbled, knowing Kagome would understand what I meant. I still couldn't make eye contact with her. "Not if I expect to get Kohaku back." My voice actually broke under the weight and strain of the disappointment I was trying to hold in. I hung my head even more so that Kagome would not see the tears welling in my eyes.
Kagome finished tying the sling. Now, my left arm was folded over and secured to my chest. Kagome lightly rubbed uninjured shoulder comfortingly, but I wasn't ready to accept any consolation just yet. She didn't bother saying anything else. She knew me well enough to realize I would only deny or ignore anything that Kagome said unless it was a chastisement or expression of disappointment in me, which she would never say, even if it was the truth.
With my arm taken care of, I waved Kagome away and attempted to stand and take a few tentative steps in order to see how much weight my strained leg could take. I clenched my jaw and after a few tries, I found I could make myself take the pain and walk without assistance. However, I was very slow and I had a pronounced limp. Only rest would heal me and we were at least two hours from an appropriate place for me to recuperate.
"Are we ready to go?" asked Miroku when he saw that I would be able to manage this last part of our return to Kaede's village. Thankfully, he had been quiet and I appreciated that he wasn't hanging over me. Even when I know I need it, I hate being nursed. It's just a reminder of how weak I still am, how far I still need to develop as a fighter. I frowned once more at these thoughts, but nodded in Miroku's direction.
"Finally," scowled Inuyasha.
"Inuyasha…" Kagome started, her voice heavy with warning.
"What?" asked Inuyasha defensively. "You've been going on all day about that test thing you need to get back for. I seem to remember you telling me to hurry up right before the snake demon attacked."
My head snapped up at the mention of Kagome's test. I had completely forgotten! The weak façade I had built broke and I felt my face screw up in renewed anger at myself.
"Your test!" I nearly wailed. I could feel everyone looking at me and knew I had to collect myself. I took a deep breath and did my best to regain my composure. "You go on, Kagome. I'll be okay. You need to get back."
"Why don't you ride Kirara?" asked Shippou from Kagome's far shoulder. He was worried for me, but I realized that he could probably smell the anger and frustration flowing out of me and didn't want to come closer. Riding Kirara was a good idea, but I had suddenly preferred the thought of everyone leaving me behind, leaving me alone to my thoughts and melancholy. I didn't want cheering up, not yet.
"I don't think I can balance well enough," I replied, unsuccessfully trying to smile. I still couldn't meet anyone's gaze. I didn't want to see their sympathy or compassion as I lied to them.
I didn't even need to be facing Miroku to know he was staring at me, figuring me out. I never really considered that I was that easy to read, and maybe Miroku was sensitive and intelligent enough to judge people's changing moods even as they desperately tried to hide them. But whatever the case, he seemed to have a knack when it came to me and I knew that he could see my lie and the motivations behind it.
Miroku moved between Kagome and Inuyasha and steered them slightly away from me, talking softly. Normally, I would have hated being left out of the conversation and having them talking about as if I wasn't there, but I was once again grateful to Miroku. I was the one who had made the mistake. It was fine that the new plans to get back to Kaede's were made without me.
As I expected, the decision was made to split up. Inuyasha, Kagome, and Shippou made their hasty goodbyes and rushed off so that Kagome would get to the well and back to her world in time.
I was glad they were gone. I didn't mind having Kirara around, but I thought Miroku might try to charm me out of my foul mood. I was feeling stubborn and didn't want to let it go.
But I didn't argue. It would have been irresponsible to leave anyone injured completely alone. Also, I knew that Miroku wouldn't be trying anything too forward or inappropriate with me. The one nice thing about being injured was that he tended to keep his hands to himself.
Miroku didn't say a word as we started down the path.
After a few minutes of walking with terrible pain, I found a way to use the Hiraikotsu as a makeshift crutch. That way I wouldn't have to place so much weight on my injured right thigh. It's not that I thought I shouldn't welcome the pain as a reminder to not make such stupid mistakes in the middle of battle, but limping was exhausting and I wasn't sure I could make it the full way back to Kaede's village if I didn't have the crutch.
Unfortunately, hefting the giant boomerang, even using my uninjured right arm and shoulder, would send a jolt of pain through my dislocated collarbone. Every step caused a new sharp pain in both my collarbone and thigh. It would dull to a more manageable throbbing ache for the short time that elapsed until I took my next step and reawakened my fractured nerve endings.
"Would you like to trade the Hiraikotsu for my shakujou?" asked Miroku after as short time of listening to me struggle along. "It's lighter and—"
"No," I snapped. "This is fine." I would make it back to the village. It would take a while, but I was willing to endure the punishment.
Miroku tried to argue. "But the—"
"I said this was fine, Houshi-sama," I interrupted again through clenched teeth. "I'm fine. This is good for me."
Miroku didn't answer. He was patient and kept my slow pace. He could see how set I was to do this on my own and didn't make another argument. However, though he walked slightly ahead of me, I could tell he was keeping a steady eye on me in his peripheral vision.
Well played, Houshi-sama, I thought to myself. He was letting me have my way, allowing me to indulge in my self-pity and guilt, but simultaneously letting me know he cared about my well being, was concerned for me, and would help if I only asked him to. Ever since we had promised to be together after our battle with Naraku was over, he had either become more considerate of me or I was becoming more used to his behaviors and motivations.
I was getting better at figuring out what was going on under that mask of serene tranquility, confidence, and disinterested amusement. I could read him better than before. But even so, there were days that I wish he didn't guard his thoughts so closely.
We walked in silence, the sun rose higher in the sky, and I grew reflective. Why did I want him to be more expressive? I usually admired self-control and privacy, not only in others, but also in myself. As I thought, I began to understand that I wanted him to drop his mask and lose control because I wanted him to occasionally show that I was not the only one who did, that I was not the only one who could slip a little and make a mistake. Maybe I would feel more deserving of his attention and affections if he showed his flaws a little more.
After an hour of walking in the bright sunlight, everything about me began to numb, my body and my mind. I couldn't even keep up my internal harsh lecture to myself while replaying my mistake over and over. The pain was still persistent as ever, but I had grown used to it. My mind swam in a sour orange haze that registered only the path at my feet, the heft-plant-limp-step routine of walking, and my foul mood.
While the day had not been hot, it had been bright, especially after the days of cloudiness and rain that we had been experiencing. All of the light reflecting off of the nearby stream and off the grass and leaves and even the dirt and mud was hypnotically blinding. Everything stood in sharp relief to everything else, starkly contrasting each object with the other to the point where the brain just shut down to keep from having to process every little thing.
At least that's what I think happened to make Miroku so unmindful.
A break in the sunlight, a lone but dark cloud passing in front of the sun dimmed the world around us. The change made the world appear suddenly blurred. I enjoyed the slight respite from the glare with a small sigh. The sun had been light a heavy weight on my shoulders and I felt suddenly unburdened, my pain briefly lessened.
A burst of warm rain fell down on us that seemed cooler because of the cloud's shade. A new thought, uninterested in the negativity of my bad mood, rose and declared that the rain was a wonderful change. That thought was the beginning of other changes, too. Something inside of me shifted. Forgiveness. Of myself. I turned my face up to the rain and allowed myself a little smile.
Miroku turned to me and his face softened at my expression.
He wasn't paying attention.
He stepped into a very deep mud hole.
I froze mid-limp and only vaguely noticed that the rain passed and the sun began to shine all around us again. I stared at Miroku, one leg sunk in the mud nearly up to his knee and the other bent at a right angle at the knee trying to rock and strain and free its captive twin.
It was the sound he made that was my breaking point. There was a slight gasp as his foot had sunk, then the leg on solid ground lost balance and he fell to his knee, tipping forward and muddying the front of his robes and dropping his shakujou where it fell out of his reach. Then, he made the most peculiar noise.
"Nnargrk!"
It was that sound and the way his face dropped its mask and befuddlement, frustration, anger, and embarrassment all vied for top position in his features.
It was the funniest, most precious thing I'd ever seen.
Whatever it was in me that had previously shifted, giving me relief from my foul and angry mood and allowing forgiveness completely broke. That noise! That face! I did try to hold in the giggles. I swear I did. Really.
In fact, I made an unladylike snort that I tried to cover up with a cough. Then I tried to hide my wide smile behind my hand as I laughed breathlessly and without noise.
"Sango?" Miroku called in frustration. "I think I'm stuck." Again, he tried to rock his leg loose, pulling at the soft ground in front of him that gave way instead of levering him out.
I let out a giggle. It wasn't on purpose.
"This isn't funny Sango!"
Tears began to stream out of my eyes and I finally just let it all go. I laughed. I laughed and hiccupped as I retrieved Miroku's staff. I giggled and snickered even through my pain as I knelt down in front of Miroku to try to help him out of the hole. And by the time he was staking the ground with the staff and using that as leverage to hoist himself out, even Miroku was starting to crack a smile.
With a final, hilarious slurp, the ground released his leg. We looked down at his bare and dirty lower leg and I struggled to control myself. Then Miroku waggled his dirty toes and said so plaintively that it was almost heartbreaking, "My shoe…"
Again, I lost myself in gales of laughter. I was only slightly aware that Miroku was checking the mud hole for his shoe as he, too, started laughing.
I'm pretty sure he was laughing at me, at my own reaction, but I was just enjoying myself too much. Maybe it wasn't really that funny. Maybe I had just needed the distraction, to feel something completely opposite to what I had just been feeling. My head was actually swimming with delight. It was a nice little break and I allowed myself the indulgence. Self-castigation was exhausting. I'd get back to it later, I was sure, but the levity of the situation was a welcome change.
Both of us still giggling, Miroku took my uninjured arm and gently helped me up. His eyes were shining and happy, a willing martyr to the situation that would make me laugh. We were close, touching, both of us happy, when I felt a strange jolt and saw a bright flash.
I was still giggling; the rest of my brain hadn't yet realized what was going on. Miroku pulled back before I realized the sensation I had felt was his lips pressed to mine.
A soft and easy smile was on his face.
I was suddenly angry. It had been my first kiss and I hadn't been paying attention.
I felt my mouth drop open in shock and my laughter dried up.
"Wait. What happened?" I asked stupidly. Then I immediately answered for him. "You kissed me."
A flash of fear showed in his eyes as my arm darted up. But instead of slapping him, I pulled him down for another kiss he seemed happy to give. This time, I paid attention.
Ever since I had allowed myself to realize my growing feelings for Miroku, I had conjured up several silly fantasies about our first kiss, trying to predict how and when it would occur. They were always thrilling, passion-filled, non-verbal declarations of our feelings toward one another that would take place after he had risked his life to save mine or after I had risked mine to save his. Given that we seemed to face death in some form or another about once a week, those scenarios had definite potential for being realized.
In the fantasies, one of us or the other (the rescuer), unmindful of the injuries we had received (serious and bloody, but not permanently disfiguring), would fawn over the (usually unconscious) rescuee, searching for even the smallest injury, contemplating the miserable life lived without the other. Then, the rescuee would open his or her eyes and our gazes would lock for what seemed like minutes, language without words passing between us, saying everything we wanted to say and needed to hear. Then, the kiss. It would be spectacular, of course.
The reality was vastly different from the fantasy.
The reality was better.
It happened when we were happy. It was when I was laughing, which was a rare event in itself. It was when both of us had our guards down. It was unexpected but completely welcome.
After the second kiss (and a few more small pecks) I playfully pushed Miroku away, playfully griping about the mud that now stained my clothes. Miroku smoothed my hair away from my face and off my shoulder and down my back before trading me the Hiraikotsu for his shakujou.
We both began limping back to the village, feeling rejuvenated.
END.
Author's Note: Hey all. This is proof that I am still around and writing fics. I'm just really busy, so don't expect a lot from me. This was just a piece of fluff that wouldn't let go of me. I just liked the idea of a kiss in the midst of laughter, so I wrote it.