Object Lesson

"Sango—"

"Don't follow me."

"But—"

"Look, I think I have every right to walk away from you right now. You don't lead a girl on—constantly flirting with her—ask her out, and then the very next week cheat on her."

"I wasn't cheating—"

"Then what do you call making out with another girl?"

"A lapse in willpower?"

"Yeah, okay. Don't expect me to stick around if these… lapses of brain functioning occur often."

"Sango…" He ran in front of her and forcibly blocked her path. The other university students walking on the busy sidewalk that wound through the campus, trying to make their way to class on time, moved past them without interest. "Wait a minute."

"Forget it." She scowled and moved to walk around him.

"Punch me," he said.

"Uh—what?"

"Punch me. I deserve it—you deserve it." He pointed to his muscular chest. "Right here, punch me as hard as you can."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Do you know what you're asking for?"

Miroku smirked. "Try me. I doubt any punch of yours will hurt. No offense, sweetheart, but you're too gentle for that."

Sango drew back her arm and punched his chest as hard as she could. Well, almost. That stupid nagging voice in the back of her head—damned affection—didn't want her to hurt him.

Miroku looked surprised for a minute. "That wasn't that bad, actually…" The cocky grin reappeared. "But you've still got a long way to go."

She punched him again, this time a bit faster and harder.

"Good," he coached. "Stand a little farther back, though, so you can lunge forward when you punch. That'll give you more force. Inertia propels you forward."

"Like this?" She stepped back, and punched again.

"Yes, better. Do it again."

She did, this time throwing in an extra punch with the other hand directly after the first.

"Nice element of surprise," said Miroku. "Now kind of shift back and forth on your feet—like this—" he demonstrated, and Sango laughed.

"You look like one of those Eastern coal-walkers," she said. "Or the comic relief for a cartoon."

"That's me," he said, winking.

They laughed together.

"Hey Miroku," Sango said, still smiling.

"Hmm?" He slipped an arm around her waist. "What is it, honey?"

She threw her hardest punch yet at him, this time aiming in the high chest area. Unsuspecting, Miroku tumbled backwards, head over heels, landing in the rather prickly St. Augustine campus grass.

"A quick lesson for you," Sango said, smiling down at him in satisfied retribution, "a teacher should always pay heed to when the student begins to surpass him."

Miroku just blinked.

"Especially," Sango added, "when the student has a particular grudge."

Miroku stared at her for a moment longer… then threw his head back and laughed. It didn't take long for Sango's laughter to mix with his, and now the passing college students looked upon the scene with fondness, smiling at the young woman who was stooping down to help up the fallen man.

Few were surprised when he pulled her back down with him.

And even less were surprised when they didn't move from that position for another hour or two.