Lost But Not Forgotten
Chapter 8
Sango-sama
Disclaimer: I think that by now we've established by now that I am, in fact, a poor starving college student...with absolutely no ownership of Inuyasha. It's heartbreaking, really.
Author's Notes: Ooooohhhhhhh!!!!! New reviewers!!!! You guys rock! ^_^ Thanks very much; it completely made my day! ^_-
*****
Dark wisps swirled around before her eyes, slowly clearing away the dense fog that masked the two figures that loomed in the shadows.
A child's bell-like giggle echoed across the plain, ringing in her ears.
"Nee-san! Nee-san!" The form of a young girl emerged from the mists; she jumped happily around an older girl, her deep brown hair in a short, slightly mussed ponytail and a smudge of dirt at her cheek. Her tongue slid in the small space left by her two missing front teeth as she grinned. "Can we play that game again?'
The older girl smiled for a moment before assuming her role. A slim finger lifted to the side of her lips in thoughtful consideration. "Hmmmm...What game?"
"The one with the swords!"
"Alright, Sango-chan," the older girl smiled, patting the younger Sango on the head. "But you have to be sure to help my Mother and I prepare dinner afterwards. We must make sure that your mother has strength enough to give birth."
"Hai." The little girl grumbled slightly; she hated preparing dinners. She would much rather train in weaponry with Nee-san than to stand around near a hot stove all afternoon. Nee-san was one of the strongest girls in the village; if she could beat her, then Otou-san would surely help train her for the traveling party. And then, wouldn't Kaa-san be so proud of her? She would have a daughter strong enough to follow in her footsteps. But until her mother recovered from her birth, it probably would be best to help out.
Her young eyes grew intense as the wooden practice sword was lifted in her tiny, surprisingly adept hands, to the ready position. She let out a high- pitched yell as she lunged toward the older girl with her sword.
And just as quickly as the dark mists had cleared, the darkness had consumed her vision once more.
*****
Sango opened her eyes slowly. Wakeful awareness was leaving her body with the rather vague and mildly painful realization that her entire body was achy. Her neck and back were terribly sore...but, in spite of her pain, she was smiling. She had finally managed to remember something from her past...at least, it seemed to be a memory. She couldn't really be too sure.
Her chocolate irises adjusted to the dim light, focusing up upon the ceiling, gazing at the same two crossbeams that had greeted her the past few mornings...and afternoons...and evenings...
She fought off the urge to groan; with as dim as the light was, it was surely early morning...and everyone else must be asleep. 'Kami-sama, this all is just too much;' she felt like she was going stir crazy. That vaguely tired feeling that kept lulling her into its grasp was converted completely to an insatiable restlessness. It would be best to go outside, just to stand outside the door ands get some air--at the very least.
Grimacing, she lifted her arm up to pull the towel off her forehead. Her whole body felt heavy...and just laying around here wasn't doing anything to fix that.
She blinked, puzzling as her fingers fell upon the still damp fabric. 'It's wet? Someone must have changed it very recently. But who?' She regarded the white piece of cloth curiously before stealing a glance around the room.
Kagome was lying on the strangest looking futon, with the kitsune cub at her head and the tiny, two-tailed cat demon at her feet. Two older women slept along each of the side walls; one of the women she recognized as her care-taker. The other bore a striking resemblance to the older girl in her dream. Sango closed her eyes and shook her head. It had been a dream, not a memory. She certainly couldn't be sure until the woman woke up and she could ask her. For that matter, she might not even be the girl she had seen in her vision...that it was only a trick of the dim, early morning light.
Inuyasha and her fiancée were nowhere to be seen. 'Ah well...' She mentally shrugged as she pulled herself up to a seated position, letting the light blue blanket that had been tucked neatly around her fall into a messy pile on her lap. 'This is a small house...it's not like there would be much extra space for them anyways...'
It was not until she tried to stretch, that she noticed Miroku's beaded hand lingering just a fraction of an inch above her own. His fingers just barely brushed across the back of her hand. It was just the slightest, teasing touch...warm yet distant, foreign and familiar, comforting and yet it created the most frightening ache in her. The rush of conflicting sensations was overwhelming; Sango had to bite her lip to keep herself from shuddering from that light touch. The pink of a blush dusted across her cheeks...she was embarrassed, of course, but she found herself unable to admit she didn't like it.
She broke her eyes free from his hand, daring a quick glance at his face to ensure that her movements hadn't woken him up. But she found herself captivated by him, her eyes lingering on his sleeping form.
His back was nestled up against the wall, allowing him to sit with one leg bent upwards and the other pressed against the wooden floorboards. With his one hand held firm to the golden staff that was leaning against the wall, he seemed ready to move at the slightest hint of motion. But with his chin tilted to press against the partially revealed skin at his clavicle and his long eyelashes casting tiny shadows over his closed eyelids, he seemed to be quite unaware that she was awake.
Sleep had softened his appearance making him seem far younger than she had thought before. He slept so peacefully, soft breaths drifting back and forth over his slightly parched, pouting lips. Those Prussian blue eyes, that held such startling intensity and sadness, were veiled in quiet slumber. His face looked so serene that she was finding it terribly difficult to tear her eyes away; it was a surprising comfort.
Her whole face held an almost maternal glow as she gently tucked her blanket over his shoulders, maneuvering the thick fabric so it moved neither her sleeping fiancée nor his shajuku. Her fingertips lingered on his arms, savoring the slight warmth that passed through the multiple layers of cloth.
He shifted slightly, dragging the tips of his tongue slowly over his dry lips.
Sango sighed softly; she didn't want to move, but the room was beginning to lighten and Miroku had moved once. Everyone would be getting up soon, and she certainly wouldn't want anyone to find her in such a compromising position. She slowly stood upright and began tip-toeing her way to the door.
She was nearly out the door when one of the floorboards groaned beneath her weight; she cringed as the sound hit her ears.
"Sango?" He mumbled; his free hand reached up from under the blanket to brush away the sleep from his half-lidded eyes. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be moving just yet..."
"I..." Sango gulped nervously, inching slowly towards the entryway. She should have been a little irritated, but sleep had done little to lessen the force of his gaze. Butterflies were raising holy terror in her stomach. "It just seemed a bit warm in here."
His eyebrows rose but he remained silent.
"I thought a little fresh air would help."
His eyes were still trained on her as he stood up. "You were planning to go out by yourself?"
She frowned, struggling to get her nervousness in check. "Is that a problem? I was just going to stand outside the door." She pointed a finger out the door for good measure.
"No." He shook his head, letting the blanket fall to his feet in a neat pile. "I just thought I might join you."
"Oh," she mumbled quietly, feeling the blush on her cheeks lessen. The butterflies had decided to quiet down...for a little while anyways. It was probably as good a time as any to find out more about her mysterious fiancée...and perhaps he would be able to shed some light on her vision.
A strong arm had wrapped itself around her shoulders and was guiding her slowly out the door.
Three pairs of eyes slid open in time to exchange knowing grins as they watched the couple walk out the door. Contentedly, their eyes slid shut again to allow them just a bit of privacy...and perhaps a quick nap before their hectic day began.
They did not expect to hear Miroku's worried voice. "Sango?"
"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." Her hand pressed against her stomach as she grimaced. "I just don't understand why I feel so..."
"Feel so...what?" He urged.
She had stopped walking. Her dark hair, which had been freed of its binding since she was put to bed last night, fanned down to cover her face, effectively masking any clue to what was wrong with her. She began to quiver.
"Sango?" Concerned, his hands moved to pull the hair away from her face...and not a moment to soon.
She hunched forwards and emptied the contents of her stomach into the high grasses.
Chapter 8
Sango-sama
Disclaimer: I think that by now we've established by now that I am, in fact, a poor starving college student...with absolutely no ownership of Inuyasha. It's heartbreaking, really.
Author's Notes: Ooooohhhhhhh!!!!! New reviewers!!!! You guys rock! ^_^ Thanks very much; it completely made my day! ^_-
*****
Dark wisps swirled around before her eyes, slowly clearing away the dense fog that masked the two figures that loomed in the shadows.
A child's bell-like giggle echoed across the plain, ringing in her ears.
"Nee-san! Nee-san!" The form of a young girl emerged from the mists; she jumped happily around an older girl, her deep brown hair in a short, slightly mussed ponytail and a smudge of dirt at her cheek. Her tongue slid in the small space left by her two missing front teeth as she grinned. "Can we play that game again?'
The older girl smiled for a moment before assuming her role. A slim finger lifted to the side of her lips in thoughtful consideration. "Hmmmm...What game?"
"The one with the swords!"
"Alright, Sango-chan," the older girl smiled, patting the younger Sango on the head. "But you have to be sure to help my Mother and I prepare dinner afterwards. We must make sure that your mother has strength enough to give birth."
"Hai." The little girl grumbled slightly; she hated preparing dinners. She would much rather train in weaponry with Nee-san than to stand around near a hot stove all afternoon. Nee-san was one of the strongest girls in the village; if she could beat her, then Otou-san would surely help train her for the traveling party. And then, wouldn't Kaa-san be so proud of her? She would have a daughter strong enough to follow in her footsteps. But until her mother recovered from her birth, it probably would be best to help out.
Her young eyes grew intense as the wooden practice sword was lifted in her tiny, surprisingly adept hands, to the ready position. She let out a high- pitched yell as she lunged toward the older girl with her sword.
And just as quickly as the dark mists had cleared, the darkness had consumed her vision once more.
*****
Sango opened her eyes slowly. Wakeful awareness was leaving her body with the rather vague and mildly painful realization that her entire body was achy. Her neck and back were terribly sore...but, in spite of her pain, she was smiling. She had finally managed to remember something from her past...at least, it seemed to be a memory. She couldn't really be too sure.
Her chocolate irises adjusted to the dim light, focusing up upon the ceiling, gazing at the same two crossbeams that had greeted her the past few mornings...and afternoons...and evenings...
She fought off the urge to groan; with as dim as the light was, it was surely early morning...and everyone else must be asleep. 'Kami-sama, this all is just too much;' she felt like she was going stir crazy. That vaguely tired feeling that kept lulling her into its grasp was converted completely to an insatiable restlessness. It would be best to go outside, just to stand outside the door ands get some air--at the very least.
Grimacing, she lifted her arm up to pull the towel off her forehead. Her whole body felt heavy...and just laying around here wasn't doing anything to fix that.
She blinked, puzzling as her fingers fell upon the still damp fabric. 'It's wet? Someone must have changed it very recently. But who?' She regarded the white piece of cloth curiously before stealing a glance around the room.
Kagome was lying on the strangest looking futon, with the kitsune cub at her head and the tiny, two-tailed cat demon at her feet. Two older women slept along each of the side walls; one of the women she recognized as her care-taker. The other bore a striking resemblance to the older girl in her dream. Sango closed her eyes and shook her head. It had been a dream, not a memory. She certainly couldn't be sure until the woman woke up and she could ask her. For that matter, she might not even be the girl she had seen in her vision...that it was only a trick of the dim, early morning light.
Inuyasha and her fiancée were nowhere to be seen. 'Ah well...' She mentally shrugged as she pulled herself up to a seated position, letting the light blue blanket that had been tucked neatly around her fall into a messy pile on her lap. 'This is a small house...it's not like there would be much extra space for them anyways...'
It was not until she tried to stretch, that she noticed Miroku's beaded hand lingering just a fraction of an inch above her own. His fingers just barely brushed across the back of her hand. It was just the slightest, teasing touch...warm yet distant, foreign and familiar, comforting and yet it created the most frightening ache in her. The rush of conflicting sensations was overwhelming; Sango had to bite her lip to keep herself from shuddering from that light touch. The pink of a blush dusted across her cheeks...she was embarrassed, of course, but she found herself unable to admit she didn't like it.
She broke her eyes free from his hand, daring a quick glance at his face to ensure that her movements hadn't woken him up. But she found herself captivated by him, her eyes lingering on his sleeping form.
His back was nestled up against the wall, allowing him to sit with one leg bent upwards and the other pressed against the wooden floorboards. With his one hand held firm to the golden staff that was leaning against the wall, he seemed ready to move at the slightest hint of motion. But with his chin tilted to press against the partially revealed skin at his clavicle and his long eyelashes casting tiny shadows over his closed eyelids, he seemed to be quite unaware that she was awake.
Sleep had softened his appearance making him seem far younger than she had thought before. He slept so peacefully, soft breaths drifting back and forth over his slightly parched, pouting lips. Those Prussian blue eyes, that held such startling intensity and sadness, were veiled in quiet slumber. His face looked so serene that she was finding it terribly difficult to tear her eyes away; it was a surprising comfort.
Her whole face held an almost maternal glow as she gently tucked her blanket over his shoulders, maneuvering the thick fabric so it moved neither her sleeping fiancée nor his shajuku. Her fingertips lingered on his arms, savoring the slight warmth that passed through the multiple layers of cloth.
He shifted slightly, dragging the tips of his tongue slowly over his dry lips.
Sango sighed softly; she didn't want to move, but the room was beginning to lighten and Miroku had moved once. Everyone would be getting up soon, and she certainly wouldn't want anyone to find her in such a compromising position. She slowly stood upright and began tip-toeing her way to the door.
She was nearly out the door when one of the floorboards groaned beneath her weight; she cringed as the sound hit her ears.
"Sango?" He mumbled; his free hand reached up from under the blanket to brush away the sleep from his half-lidded eyes. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be moving just yet..."
"I..." Sango gulped nervously, inching slowly towards the entryway. She should have been a little irritated, but sleep had done little to lessen the force of his gaze. Butterflies were raising holy terror in her stomach. "It just seemed a bit warm in here."
His eyebrows rose but he remained silent.
"I thought a little fresh air would help."
His eyes were still trained on her as he stood up. "You were planning to go out by yourself?"
She frowned, struggling to get her nervousness in check. "Is that a problem? I was just going to stand outside the door." She pointed a finger out the door for good measure.
"No." He shook his head, letting the blanket fall to his feet in a neat pile. "I just thought I might join you."
"Oh," she mumbled quietly, feeling the blush on her cheeks lessen. The butterflies had decided to quiet down...for a little while anyways. It was probably as good a time as any to find out more about her mysterious fiancée...and perhaps he would be able to shed some light on her vision.
A strong arm had wrapped itself around her shoulders and was guiding her slowly out the door.
Three pairs of eyes slid open in time to exchange knowing grins as they watched the couple walk out the door. Contentedly, their eyes slid shut again to allow them just a bit of privacy...and perhaps a quick nap before their hectic day began.
They did not expect to hear Miroku's worried voice. "Sango?"
"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." Her hand pressed against her stomach as she grimaced. "I just don't understand why I feel so..."
"Feel so...what?" He urged.
She had stopped walking. Her dark hair, which had been freed of its binding since she was put to bed last night, fanned down to cover her face, effectively masking any clue to what was wrong with her. She began to quiver.
"Sango?" Concerned, his hands moved to pull the hair away from her face...and not a moment to soon.
She hunched forwards and emptied the contents of her stomach into the high grasses.