yellowhorde

Disclaimer: I don't own Inu Yasha or its characters (that honor goes
to Rumiko Takahashi) and I make no money from this or any other
fanfic I write.
Pairings: Inu Yasha + Kagome, Miroku + Sango
Category: General
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence, and Language
Title: Blue Skies and Little Fishes
Author: yellowhorde
Status: In Progress

Bright golden rays of sunlight filtered down between the gently
rustling leaves and splashed across the forest floor while a rising
breeze whispered quietly to itself over the musical trilling of an
untold number of birds. All of this and more Sango could detect as
she strained all of her senses in the effort to determine if she and
her friend, Kagome, had any unwanted intruders. She found nothing out
of the ordinary, but with that lecherous monk hanging around, you
could never be too sure. Even the thought of Shippo keeping an eye on
him was little comfort to her because Miroku was a slippery devil
with more cunning than good sense.

"Don't worry, Sango," Kagome spoke reassuringly from the other side
of the foliage as if she could feel her friend's distrust. "I'm sure
Shippo is keeping Miroku in his place."

"You're probably right, Kagome. But you know how Miroku can be."

"Yeah, I do. Every time he sees a pretty girl he loses his head, and
his better judgment."

Finally satisfied that they were well and truly alone, Sango shyly
emerged from behind the bush and presented herself to Kagome,
spreading her arms out and turning in a slow circle for maximum
effect. Hundreds of fallen leaves beneath her bare feet shifted and
crackled with each step and the breeze ruffled her hair gently.

The black and red two-piece swimming suit Kagome had loaned her,
while covering everything modesty demanded covered, was without a
doubt, the most daring outfit the young demon slayer had ever worn.
She should have felt embarrassed in such a get up and yet,
surprisingly, she didn't. Her thick black hair fell down to her
slender waist in a shiny curtain and there were small patches of
color high on her cheekbones, which gave her creamy skin an even more
youthful glow. Her lips twisted in a hesitant smile as she stood
before her friend and had to admit to herself that without her ever-
present weapons close at hand, she felt vulnerable and just a little
ill at ease. Other than that, she felt fine.

"Wow, you look fabulous, Sango!" Kagome exclaimed. "Miroku's eyes are
going to pop right out of his head when he sees you."

Sango's cheeks blazed red and she gave a small nervous laugh. "You
really think so?"

"Of course, he'd have to be completely blind not to react to you!"

The blush across Sango's cheeks intensified as she imagined just how
Miroku would react to seeing her in this revealing outfit. As odd as
it may seem, she was actually looking forward to seeing such an
expression on his face. Smiling happily in anticipation, Sango
slipped on her zori, gathered her carefully folded clothes in her
arms, and followed Kagome down the path that led back to the river
with her head high. Kagome was chattering happily, but Sango's
thoughts were elsewhere.

(Miroku has always been such a flirt,) the young demon slayer thought
as she used one hand to push aside a leafy branch barring her path,
(but then again, that's almost second nature to him. Every beautiful
woman he meets he makes a pass at and asks if she would bear his
child.)

(Every woman except for me.)

The beginnings of a formidable frown creased Sango's brow at this
thought but then cleared almost at once. Her footsteps slowed then
stopped as she puzzled over something that had never occurred to her
before.

(Before I meet Inu Yasha's group.. and Miroku. I used to always think
of myself as a demon slayer first and foremost, then as my father's
daughter and Kohaku's older sister. I never really thought of myself
as a woman, except maybe as an afterthought.)

Sango bit her bottom lip as she contemplated this small revelation.
She saw that Kagome was much farther ahead but she hadn't seemed to
notice that she wasn't at her side any longer. Or if she did notice
she probably thought the warrior was embarrassed. For a moment Sango
felt the urge to call out to Kagome, to ask her to wait up, but she
didn't. It was just as well that Kagome wasn't at her side; she
needed some time to be alone with her thoughts.

(But I AM a woman, with a woman's thoughts and feelings.)

Suddenly, for in the first time in her life Sango realized that she
felt every inch the beautiful woman she had always been. Never before
had she been so aware of her own feminine allure and this sudden
understanding set her head spinning as her thoughts flew ahead to the
man who was waiting their return on the beach.

(Miroku.Do you see me? When you look at me with those calm dark eyes,
do you see me as a woman. or as a warrior?)

Thinking of Miroku, her thoughts were drawn back to the not so
distant past, and a soft look of concern filled her eyes as she
remembered sitting by his side only days ago as he lay unconscious
after the old monk, Mushin, had done his best to repair the rip in
Miroku's wind tunnel that had been caused by a giant praying mantis
demon.

(How vulnerable he had been, lying on the futon so pale and
helpless.) Sango recalled, and her heart filled with heaviness and
the backs of her eyes pricked as if tears were threatening. She shook
her head and tried to force such sad, depressing thoughts from her
mind, but they simply refused to leave. It wasn't fair that she
should think such things on such a beautiful sunny day. It wasn't
fair at all, but then again, life was anything but fair, as she had
discovered when first her family and friends, then her village had
been destroyed.

At Mushin's temple, as she had looked on helplessly as Miroku had
slept his drugged sleep, she had felt sympathy for the young monk and
had come to understand the real nature of his plight. She realized
that he too was journeying with Inu Yasha and his group of friend to
help in their search the fragments of the Shikon no Tama, and for the
demon Naraku, a terribly evil and powerful demon who was also in
search for the shards of the Sacred Jewel. But unlike Inu Yasha,
Miroku's was not a search entirely spurred by revenge. Nor was he
looking to free a sibling from that horrible demon's grasp, as she
was.

A sharp stab of anguish pierce through Sango's heart as she
remembered her youngest brother, Kohaku, who had been possessed by
Naraku and forced to slay his father and fellow demon slayers. He had
even tried to kill her, his own sister, and had almost succeeded.

(My poor, sweet Kohaku. Whatever shall become of you?)

With a sigh, Sango decided that it did no good to dwell over the
past, no matter how painful it may be. Her brother's freedom would
have to wait until they were able to find and defeat Naraku but she
was certain that he would someday be returned to her and that he
would not be the cold blooded killer he had been forced to become by
that hateful monster, but the shy and gentle little brother she had
loved and adored.

Someday.

Again, she felt the prickling of tears and once more she fought them
off determined not to give in to such melancholic thoughts. She was
grateful that Kagome was walking a little way ahead of her and wasn't
aware of that dark turn her thoughts had taken or of the sadness that
filled her eyes. She didn't want to spoil the young girl's fun. After
all, Kagome was doing her best to keep all of their spirits afloat.

After Miroku's recent near-death experience, Kagome had decided that
the group needed a break and that a relaxing picnic and a day at the
beach would be extremely beneficial to everyone. Inu Yasha had, of
course, heatedly argued that they really couldn't afford to delay
their search for Naraku, but he had been persuaded, with the help of
a few strategic 'Sit, boy!' commands, that they could continue on
their journey after enjoying a brief respite from their constant
battles.

Forcing a smile on her face, Sango hurried forward and caught up with
Kagome, who was nearing the edge of the forest. Beyond the jumble of
branches and underbrush, she could catch the flash and shimmer of the
sun as its beams were reflected off of the calm, clear surface of the
river. And then suddenly they were out of the woods and standing on
the white sand beach, with their hands raised to their faces to ward
off the sudden glare of the sun. Kagome smiled at her and reaching
out took the demon slayer's hand into her own and gave it a
reassuring squeeze before letting go.

"You really do look wonderful, Sango." She said, "And don't worry, we
will find Naraku and get your little brother back." Then she turned
and lopped off down the beach.

Sango almost reeled back in shock after Kagome wandered off towards
the others. It wasn't possible that the strange girl from the future
could read minds, and yet.

(She.she knew what I was thinking. How?)

Sango would be the first to admit that she didn't necessarily like
the fact that Kagome had been able to guess her moods and thoughts as
accurately as she had. It was an unnatural ability and one that
unnerved the demon slayer terribly.

(Kagome is a loving and caring person. It's only natural for her to
be attuned to the feelings of those around her so it shouldn't be
surprising that she was able to sense my gloomy thoughts. Knowing my
history as she does, it is only natural that she would assume that I
was thinking about my little brother.)

Unnerving it may be, but Sango couldn't argue that it was nice having
people around her who understood how she felt. That vile creature,
Naraku, had damaged almost every single one of them, either
physically or emotionally, in his quest for the Shikon no Tama. He
had set Inu Yasha and the priestess, Kikyo, against each other and
where love had once blossomed, now only hatred could be found, at
least in Kikyo's heart. Miroku had his wind tunnel, a curse laid upon
his grandfather by Naraku fifty years ago and passed down from father
to son, threatened to pull him into the void unless he was able to
find a way to defeat Naraku. And there was of course, Kohaku.

For several long moments Sango stood rooted to the spot, unable to
move even the tiniest step forward. Her heart thudded in her chest
and she found that her eyes were pulled over to the rocky outcrop
where Miroku and Shippo were seated. She saw Kagome reach them and
the three of them greeted each other and began to chat, but she was
too far away to make out their words and she wasn't good at lip
reading. Then Kagome and Shippo headed for the water, leaving Miroku
sitting on his rock.

From this vantage point Sango could see Miroku's profile clearly as
he gazed out at the rippling water. He hadn't moved one inch from his
spot, she noted, feeling a little foolish for her earlier suspicions,
and his staff was still propped against the rock in easy reach. The
line of his body was relaxed as he watched Kagome and Shippo play in
the bright sunlit water and the two tiny hoop earrings dangling from
his left earlobe caught the light and reflected it out into the still
air with tiny bursts of color. He was, as usual, perfectly calm with
a peaceful smile on his lips.

(Looking at him, you would never guess that a death curse hangs over
his head.) Sango thought and felt her throat tighten. (His very life
is in jeopardy from a curse set upon his family long before he was
even born.)

It was this thought, unpleasant as it may be, that enabled Sango to
find the strength to take that first hesitant step down the beach.
White sand shifted subtly beneath her feet as she made her way slowly
forward. The pounding of her heart in her ears was almost loud enough
to drown out the whispering of the wind as it ran its fingers through
the leafy canopy. As she neared the water, her world narrowed around
her until all that seemed to remain was the beat of her heart, the
fresh scent of the breeze, the sun hot upon her skin, and Miroku,
sitting there on his rock with his back to her.

(That wind scar in his right hand. Someday it will suck him into its
void just as it did his father and his grandfather. That must be such
a terrible burden to bear, and yet, he always acts so strong, so
confident. How horrible it must be to know that your life lies
literally in the palm of your hand, knowing that you may not live
long enough to look into the faces of your children.)

Perhaps it was the faint flip-flop sound of her zori as she crossed
the sand that caught Miroku's attention, or her shadow that fell
across his back as he sat there gazing out at the water that caused
him to shift his position until he was looking directly at the demon
slayer. Perhaps, as an experienced warrior, he had sensed her
presence and had reacted accordingly. The young monk stood and stared
at her for one long silent moment.

Sango returned the monk's astonished look with one of deceptive calm.
Her heart raced in her chest while tiny butterflies danced wildly in
her stomach. Dimly she could hear Kagome and Shippo giggling together
somewhere off in the distance and the sounds of a new water battle,
but all of these sounds were meaningless to her at the moment.

Miroku's eyes didn't exactly pop out of his head, but they did grow
exceptionally large as he stared wordlessly at the woman who stood
proudly before him. He drew in his breath sharply then closed his
eyes. His chest rose as he inhaled slowly then fell as he released
it. And still he kept his eyes closed.

(Do you see me, Miroku?)

Slowly, as if in response to her thoughts, Miroku opened his eyes and
looked again at Sango. His dark eyes were filled with an unfathomable
mixture of emotions and contained such smoldering heat as they
hungrily devoured every inch of her, seeming to savor every glorious
detail. It was as if his gaze held weight, had substance, for
wherever his eyes fell her skin tingled as if he had physically
brushed along her body. He openly admired her body, her firm, young
breasts, her taut stomach, the dip of her waist, the flare of her
hips. His eyes slid along her arms and legs, so long and finely
muscled and for once, Sango found that she didn't mind his probing
stare, she didn't mind at all.

Miroku's dark eyes rose and locked with Sango's and she was pleased
that they were not calm now, but filled with wonderful, unspeakable
things. Scalding waves of heat rushed through her body in reaction to
the look in his eyes but she held herself still and waited for him to
make the next move.

The monk's hand rose as if reaching out for her, but stopped in mid-
air for a few moments before falling back to his side. He was being
extraordinarily cautious right now, as if uncertain how to react to
the woman before him. She had taught him to be cautious.

Finally, he bowed gracefully to Sango, a low sweeping gesture that
would have done a courtier justice. He rose, smiling, then reached
out and clasped one of Sango's hands between his own. Although this
gentle action startled her, she didn't pull away as she normally
would have. His hands were slightly rough and very warm and the feel
of him against her flesh was very pleasant.

He looked directly into her eyes and with great solemnity
murmured, "I must say that you are looking especially lovely today,
my Lady."

The words sounded awfully formal to Sango, quite unlike Miroku's
usual manner of speaking and caught up in the heat of his eyes, she
couldn't help but reply with equal formality.

"You are most kind, good monk." Then she smile mischievously and
added, "That compliment doesn't have anything to do with the fact
that I'm standing before you almost completely naked, now does it?"

Lecherous monk though he was, Miroku still had the good grace to look
slightly embarrassed. "Well, no." He stammered, dropping her hand
awkwardly, "Actually. maybe. just a little bit." He offered an
apologetic smile and actually looked as if he were preparing himself
for a blow.

"Sango!" Kagome's voice floated to them from the water, "Are you
going to join us, or what?"

"Coming, Kagome!" Sango called, raising her arm in acknowledgement of
her friend's invitation to join them. "I'll be right there."

She returned her dark eyes to Miroku and murmured softly, "We'll talk
about this later."

"Y-yes ma'am!"

With long steady strides, Sango made her way towards the beach
blanket, extremely conscious of Miroku's eyes, which were following
every move she made. She deposited her clothes next to her weapons
then headed for the river. When she reached the riverbed, she slid
gracefully out of her zori and stepped into the cool water. With each
footstep she made the cool heaviness of the water crept up her legs,
engulfing her, her ankles, her shin, her upper thighs.

When the water was waist deep, Sango turned around and waved at
Miroku, who still remained standing near his rock. The monk waved
back and smiled one of the goofiest smiles she had ever seen. She
gave him one of her own sweet smiles then dove under the surface of
the water in an effort to cool the heated flush of her skin. She
plunged deeper into the cool silence of the river and happiness like
she had never experienced swelled her woman's heart.

(He really does see me.)

TO BE CONTINUED.