Scars
by Lola

Author's note: Thanks again everyone. *sigh* you guys are so sweet ^_^! Well this is about Miroku and Sango because there is just not enough stuff about them. It's pretty mushy though...so be warned. Well, I hope you like it. It's my first fic about this couple so...god I don't know if I did this right....
Enjoy.


Sango awoke with a start, wincing at the pain assaulting her body. The cause of her pain was the many gashes and bruises she'd received at the hands of one of Naraku's minions. It had caught her off-guard with no boomerang or any weapon for that matter. She cursed herself silently. She should have been prepared. If it hadn't been for Miroku....
Her heart seized with panic. Miroku! He had been injured too, because he had protected her, shielding her with his own body before he let open the abyss which consumed their enemy.
"Mi...ku", Sango wheezed, frustrated that she could not find her voice.
She heard shuffling. Fabric falling on a wooden floor and then her eyes focused on the shape that leaned over her. A handsome face framed with black hair, a charming smile playing on his lips, gentle, teasing eyes. Yes, Miroku, Sango sighed with relief.
She sat up abruptly when she noticed the cut on Miroku's chin and the bloody scrape at the side of his head.
"It's nothing", he said as he watched her study his wounds.
"But-".
"You need to rest. If you move too much you'll only reopen your wounds," the monk said gently, guiding Sango to lie back in the bed. Then moved back to the centre of the room where a small fire burned.
Sango rolled over so as to better view the priest then blushed as he removed his outer robe revealing a well-toned torso. The muscles in his arms flexed as he moved about methodically, tearing bandages so that he may dress his wounds. He turned slightly, exposing his back to Sango and she gasped. A long cut streaked from his left shoulder blade to mid-back. He glanced over at Sango over his shoulder and she swallowed hard. She was standing now, despite her many wounds and she desperately wanted to help Miroku. Wanted to get closer....
"Sango, I don't think you should-" Miroku's voice trailed off as she stumbled forward a few steps before her legs turned to jelly and she crashed into him, her face buried in his chest.
"Sorry," she mumbled, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke. Miroku shivered.
"I told you not to move," he said, forcing a smile as he disentangled himself from Sango.
The demon hunter sat up, head cocked slightly to the side, hair spilling over one shoulder. Miroku pointedly avoided her gaze, preferring to busy himself soaking a cloth in a basin of fresh water by his side. Sango realized he was ignoring her though she could not imagine why. She was also rather amazed that the usually licentious priest hadn't made a pass at her rump while she was practically on top of him. It had been such an obvious opportunity! Her heart tightened; perhaps he was too weak to even indulge in his favourite pastime.
Her hand shot out to feel his forehead and she sighed in relief, "You don't have a fever!"
Miroku raised a slender black brow, "Of course not. Why would you think I had a fever?"
Sango smiled nervously and began absently braiding her hair. "It's just that...well, when you didn't try to grope me, I though you might not be feeling well," she blurted quickly.
Miroku blinked once in surprise then to Sango's horror he burst out laughing. "Thank you for your concern, I assure you I'm the same lecher I was upon entering these mountains with you," he said between giggles.
He sobered quickly when he noticed that Sango didn't seem to share in his mirth.
"Honestly Sango, I was just being a gentleman," he continued seriously, "I would not attempt to take advantage of a woman when she is injured any more than I would fight an unarmed man".
Sango let out a dry laugh, "Bad form?".
"Something like that," he grinned, resuming his attempts at cleansing the wound on his back.
Sango couldn't resist a smile at his awkward motions; she shook her head and inched closer. Miroku posed no resistance as she gently removed the wet cloth from his hand and began dabbing at the wound on his back. The priest tried his best to steady his breathing as the trailing sleeves of Sango's robe brushed against his back. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she closed one small hand around his shoulder to brace herself.
"Sorry, you must be cold, but I'm almost done".
Miroku cursed himself silently, 'Geez, you'd think I'd never been near a woman before!'. He closed his eyes. But this was Sango. Beautiful spirited Sango, the demon hunter. Tenderly cleaning his wounds. They had never been so close, he realized. Suddenly he was extremely grateful for the fact that they were alone. Inu-Yasha, Kagome and Shippo had decided to search for clues to the Shikon shard's whereabouts in the south while Sango and himself explored the mountains in the north.
Sango finished bandaging his back, moving in front of him in order to tend the wounds on his chin and forehead. Miroku smiled at the professional air she exuded as she soaked a new cloth in the water, squeezed it, and then began dabbing at his chin.
"Thank you Sango," he smiled.
She shook her head as she leaned back in order to fully take in the monk's smile, and handsome features.
"Well you took care of me right?" she indicated her many bandages, pausing as she considered her statement. Indeed, he had dressed her wounds. Her eyes narrowed as she pondered her attire. A thin satin robe, given to her by Kagome who explained you wore it upon emerging from the bath. This had not been what she was wearing during her attack. She glared at Miroku suspiciously as the though crossed her mind that he had disrobed her while she was unconscious. To just as quickly be replaced with amazement at how skilled he must be in order to remove her clothing without alerting her warrior instincts. Miroku squirmed under the woman's gaze.
"What?" he asked innocently, though he knew damn well from the smouldering look in her eyes that she was questioning whether his crafty hands had done anything else aside dress her wounds.
Finally, she resumed dabbing at his chin.
"You must have had a lot of practice," she stated applying slightly greater pressure on his cut to emphasize her point.
"Huh? Well...I-" Miroku stuttered stupidly for many minutes.
"Bandaging wounds I mean," Sango clarified with a smirk as she affixed the final bandage onto the monk's forehead.
Miroku let out a nervous laugh; "Well you know you hang around Inu-Yasha long enough and you're bound to see him get sliced. Besides, I've seen Lady Kaede do it often enough".
Sango's only response was an affirmative noise as she went to sit at the edge of the bed (or rather the edge of the blankets she had been sleeping under). She could hear Miroku covering himself with his robe once more and then prodding the coals in the fire.
"I should get more wood," he noted, brushing the folds in his robe before proceeding towards the door and stepping into his sandals. He peeked over his shoulder to catch a glance of Sango and was firmly rooted in place.
His companion was a vision in sapphire spun satin. Raven hair pooling over her shoulders in silken waves. Gazing up at the ceiling, eyes closed, her neck tilted back. It took several moments before Miroku realized he'd been holding his breath. Sango took a deep breath and sighed. Her eyes flickered open and settled on Miroku. The demon hunter was taken aback by the sight. The man looked as though he were about to explode. He was visibly trembling.
"Miroku-sama, what's wrong?" Sango demanded rushing towards him in concern.
The monk backed up against the door as she approached.
"You're acting strange," she stated as she once again felt for a fever.
Miroku forced down the lump in his throat. "Well I do feel a little flushed".
"Just as I suspected. You overdid it watching over me. You should have been resting yourself!"
Sango seized his arm and Miroku let her lead him to the blankets.
"Lie down," she commanded.
When the monk made no immediate move to comply, Sango planted a hand on each of his shoulders and slammed him down into the blankets. The air was blasted from Miroku's lungs from the force of the fall and his gasp turned into a pained yelp as Sango's weight landed atop him.
Luckily Sango quickly scrambled off of him. She knelt beside the crippled monk, who felt as though his spinal column had shattered, and bowed, apologizing profusely. Miroku was trying desperately to roll over to alleviate the pain in his back.
"Never mind that Sango, it was an accident".
Sango sat up, but kept her gaze to the floor. "Sorry, I shouldn't have done that, especially considering the wound on your back".
Miroku propped himself up on one elbow, "For what? Taking care of me? You were just trying to get me to rest Sango, you needn't be sorry for that".
Sango dipped her head lower, obscuring her eyes in the shadow of her bangs. Miroku frowned, indecision paralysing him. His instincts told him to just grab the demon hunter and hold her forever. Certainly he would have acted on his initial feeling had it been any ordinary woman before him, but this was Sango. Miroku bit his bottom lip then smiled to himself. There was only one way to get his Sango back to normal. He rose quickly saying that he felt better and was going to fetch more wood.
Sango hadn't moved when he returned. He took a deep breath then dropped the wood he'd gathered by the fire.
"Oh Sango, my...my strength seems to be leaving me," he muttered faintly, stumbling about dizzily before collapsing in her lap. He rolled over so that he could look up into her eyes; his head still nestled in her lap, his left arm conveniently around her waist. Before Sango could express her concern, the prone monk fondled her satin clad behind.
Sango's eyebrow twitched once before her elbow drove hard into Miroku's ribs then shoved him roughly off her with a growl.
"Why you...you...if I weren't injured I'd-" Sango trembled as her fists clenched.
Miroku rubbed his ribs with a pained expression then flashed Sango a smile that made her words falter and her heart flutter.
"There, now you're the Sango I know again!" he smiled.
A blush tinged Sango's cheeks and she quickly looked away, busying herself with the task of rebuilding the fire. Miroku crawled over to her side, watching as she methodically broke each stick in half before tossing it into the fire. Soon the flames were dancing high, devouring the wood eagerly. The amber light glowed in Sango's dark eyes, caressed her pale skin and shimmered over her sapphire robe. Miroku fought hard not to gawk too much but was nevertheless the helpless captive of Sango's beauty.
"I-I'm sorry if I hurt you," she stated quietly.
Miroku blinked slowly then shook his head slightly to disperse his reverie.
"It was well worth it Sango," he paused then smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "I assure you," he continued letting his eyes roam freely over her satin clad figure, his gaze lingering on the curve below her back.
Sango's eyes widened at the expression perceived on the monk's face, then to Miroku's delight, she smiled widely.
"Don't start! Next time I won't be so gentle!" she laughed, knowing that her friend was purposefully exaggerating his praising glance in order to spark a reaction. He grinned back at her as she offered him a hand to help him up. She held her right hand in his for a moment, still smiling. Then frowned when she saw Miroku staring down at their hands sadly. He sighed and as he pulled his hand away, she could feel the prayer beads, which sealed the abyss in his hand slide across her fingers. For a split second Miroku's face became a mask of eternal sorrow before he yawned, an obvious ploy to explain his sudden sombreness but Sango decided to let it slide. This time.
"We should get some rest so we can continue on tomorrow," he said, curling by the fire.
Sango nodded as she crawled under the blankets a little ways off. She watched as the light from the fire cast shadows on Miroku's face. He looked so innocent when his eyes were closed, so at peace, so...beautiful. Sango blushed with that thought then jumped at the sound of the houshi's voice.
"Go to sleep Sango".
"R-right," she muttered and rolled over so that her back was to the monk, cursing herself for staring.
********
Sango bolted upright in her blankets. Black hair matted to the side of her head, sweat slicked strands clinging to her cheeks and chin. Her heart was racing. Eyes wide, she tried to breathe.
"Kohaku...", she breathed shakily.
Memories of her brother's betrayal, of the destruction of her village, the death of her father. Always they haunted her. Everyone she loved, gone. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Why? Why was she doomed to be alone? Why must everyone she love die?
Her dark tear filled eyes settled on Miroku. He lay curled in a ball, he looked cold. Tears spilled out of Sango's eyes anew when she realized that he'd given her all the blankets. She rose, still sniffling, and laid the blankets on Miroku. The monk shifted but did not awaken. The demon hunter tentatively reached out to brush the bangs from his face.
"Why are you so nice to me? Even when I get mad...you still flirt despite the fact that I reject you. Are you just teasing me Houshi-sama?" her whisper escaped unanswered. She smiled slightly. Without realizing her actions, she leaned down and pressed her lips to Miroku's cheek in a chaste kiss. Her fingers lingered over his lips, tracing the soft flesh with her thumb.
He made a soft sound and leaned into her touch.
She sighed and was about to crawl to the other side of the room to go back to sleep when she felt a gentle tugging on her trailing sleeve.
Startled, her eyes fixed on a bleary eyed Miroku who seemed rather confused but cutely so. His fingers slid down the satin of her sleeve to clasp her hand. His grip was light and warm. He was staring at her face, sadness and regret in his eyes.
Sango looked away, strangely nervous.
"You've been crying Sango...why?"
Miroku was now sitting cross-legged beside her. He slipped his hand out of hers so that he could reach up and hold her face with both hands. Sango brushed his hands away dismissively.
"Bah. It's nothing. Worry not about me Houshi-sama".
She stretched and smoothed out the folds in her robe. "I just need some air," she tried to smile convincingly but was aware of how false it seemed.
"It's cold Sango," Miroku stated rising as well.
She took a deep breath, "Yeah well it'll do me good, toughens you up!".
Miroku yawned a little as he settled back into the blankets, nestling himself in the warmth.
"Ok then, if you don't want to talk," Miroku mumbled as he rolled onto his side.
Sango blinked several times, was he just gonna go back to sleep? Couldn't he tell that she was upset? That she needed him to-to...
Sango blushed.
"Pff. Well since you're so comfortable and I don't have anything to talk about, I'll just be on my way," she huffed.
"You could be too".
"What?"
Miroku propped himself up on one elbow to face her, "Comfortable," he finished while holding the blankets open, an invitation.
Sango looked as though she were going to explode. Her cheeks flushed crimson, her eyes bulged and Miroku was sure he could see her battle aura glowing, or perhaps that was the golden light of dawn...
Not wishing to face either, Miroku rolled his eyes before seizing the woman's wrist and dragging her down into the blankets. She yelped in protest, struggling fiercely, but Miroku easily pinned her with his heavier weight.
Sango glared into his dark eyes and was shocked to see anger shimmering therein.
"Gods woman! Could you have a little faith in me just once? I'm worried about you're wellfare. It's cold out therefore you should stay here, where it's warm. And since you so kindly bestowed the blanket on me, I'm offering to share it with you so just sit your demon-slaying ass down and get some rest!!".
He sighed in frustration, Sango was speechless as he rolled over, his back to her giving her plenty of space. Stunned, she could only stare at his back in bewilderment. Finally she rolled over as well. They were back to back. She felt the covers shift. Miroku had turned again. She wondered vaguely if she should put a hand on her behind in order to prevent the monk from grabbing it.
"It's because I'm happy when I'm with you," his voice, so soft, heavy with emotion.
Sango felt the heat rising in her cheeks, "What?!".
She could feel the monk's breath caress the back of her neck as he let out a sigh.
"The answer to your question, why am I nice to you?" he whispered through a yawn.
Sango's eyes widened. He had heard?! She pressed a hand over her mouth to suppress a gasp. She wanted to protest, to deny what he had said, simply attribute it to the heat from the fire. Or perhaps the pain from his wounds had really gone to his head. She cast him a quick panicked glance, afraid of what he thought of her. He was asleep. His cheeks flushed slightly from the shared heat in the blanket, inky black bangs falling over his eyes.
The demon hunter sighed and let sleep claim her. Her last thoughts that of Miroku's serene sleeping face.
********
Sango stretched languidly then winced at the jarring pain in her muscles. Light streamed golden and warm from the window. Birds chirped merrily in lilting tones. She rubbed her neck to work out the kinks in her tense muscles. She noted faintly that there was less warmth in the blanket than the night before. Pushing the hair from her face with the back of one hand she glanced beside her to where Miroku should have been. She laid a hand gingerly on the spot where he had laid the previous evening. She could feel his warmth on her fingertips.
A shadow fell over her and she looked up into Miroku's smiling eyes.
"O-ohayo# Houshi-sama!" she said, mildly startled.
"Ohayo," he smiled lazily as he crouched before her. She vaguely noted that his hair glistened, wet, and a few droplets of moisture clung to his long bangs.
"How are you feeling?" they both asked simultaneously then laughed.
Miroku shook his head, sending a tiny spray of cold droplets raining about his shoulders. "Are you hungry?"
The quiet growl of her stomach was answer enough. The monk grinned mischievously as he fished about his robe, finally producing two round peaches from the recesses of one ebony sleeve. The monk could practically hear the woman begin to salivate.
He laughed, a rich sound. Sango caught the fruit he tossed her and sunk her teeth into it ravenously.
"Why are you wet? Is it raining?" she asked between juicy mouthfuls of ripened peach.
Miroku swallowed and licked his sticky lips, "No, but there's a nice little hot spring that I found nearby, I went to clean my wounds, you should to," he explained.
Sango let out a dry laugh as she finished her peach, "What? So you can spy on me?"
Miroku's eyebrows flew up in what she thought might have been hurt, "No. I just thought that you could relax a bit Sango. Plus I didn't know whether or not your wound would leave a scar...I thought you might..." the monk trailed off as Sango's face darkened and her body seemed to go limp, for a brief moment he thought she might strike him.
Her bottom lip twitched. She looked up with dead eyes.
"What's one more scar?" an almost inaudible whisper.
Unconsciously she gently ran her fingers over the scar that her brother had inflicted. She could feel the rough skin even through the soft fabric of her robe. She let the half eaten peach roll out of her half curled palm.
"We all have our scars Sango," Miroku said pointedly as he laid his sealed hand over hers.
Sango's eyes burned. How could she be so selfish? At least she was alive, she may have lost her family and suffered through betrayal but Miroku had lost his father too and now he could die too, from an inherited curse. He didn't deserve to die. She did. She had betrayed Inu-Yasha, she had been duped by Naraku. She had left her brother alone with Kagome and he had practically killed her!!
She wasn't aware when she started crying but the tears pooled from her closed eyes, clinging to dark lashes like wet jewels.
"I'm sorry Houshi-sama, you must be disgusted with me," she sobbed.
"Why? How could I ever find you disgusting Sango?" Miroku wondered as he tilted her chin up with gentle fingers so he could gaze into her dark eyes.
Sango stared into his own pools of grey searchingly, "But-but you saw! You saw what my folly did to me!"
Miroku sighed but his eyes were kind, "Yes Sango, I saw your scars, I know a little of the burdens you carry but you know what I think?"
The demon hunter shook her head slowly and the monk reached up a hand to caress her face, brushing raven wisps behind her ear.
"I think those scars are a testament to how strong you are. To have endured so much yet still fight where others would have fallen. And you know what else?" he asked as he leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.
Sango gulped down a wave of nervousness as he leaned his forehead against hers, wet bangs meshing with her own. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I know and not because you're pretty but because of who you are. So no, I could never be disgusted by you."
"But doesn't it hurt to look at me?" she whispered back, toying with one of his earrings.
"Yes."
Sango winced and tried to slide back but Miroku seized her by the waist and pulled her into his lap, embracing her tightly.
"It's not due to any physical blemish. To me you are beauty personified. It is the scars on your heart which bring me the most pain".
"Miroku...arigatou#," she breathed as she hugged him back, wrapping her slender arms around his strong shoulders, head buried in his neck.
Miroku felt her smile against his neck as he ran his fingers through her hair, down her back and found himself smiling as well. Together their wounds didn't seem so deep.



Thanks for reading!! So....did you like it? ^_^;