A
Little Unwell
Dedicated: To Eve-chan. Cause it’s her fault
that I came up with this idea. It was too cute to leave alone... (Be nice to
Jacin, Eve, even if you don’t like him. He did take good care of you, and you
threw fruitcakes at him. xP)
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone... And the lyrics
are taken from Lenny Kravitz's song, "Lady".
---
“How bad is it?”
Kagome winced at the
question as she slid the thermometer back into its box. Brushing her bangs out
of her blue eyes, she sighed, and gave her best friend an apologetic look.
“Still bad. You’re doing a
little better, but your temperature is still over 102 degrees.”
Sango sighed, leaning back
against her pillows. “Kagome-chan, whatever am I going to do without you?” she
asked. She had been sick for over a week now, with few signs of it letting up.
Kagome, ever kindhearted, had taken time out of her own life and work to drop
by as often as she could to take care of Sango, but Sango should have known it
wouldn’t last. No, Kagome was leaving town that very night in order to spend
the holidays with her family.
“Ah, well...” Kagome
suddenly looked nervous, and let her dark bangs fall back into her face so that
they shielded her eyes. When her fingers started to twist together awkwardly,
Sango knew something was up. She sat up slowly, so as to not induce a
feeling of vertigo, and stared at Kagome.
“Kagome-chan... What
aren’t you telling me?”
“Well, Sango-chan...
Seeing as how you’re still sick, I can’t just leave you alone to fend for
yourself. And, I know you don’t like hospitals, so...”
“So?”
Kagome had the decency to
look abashed. “I took a few... liberties?”
Sango heaved a sigh,
closing her eyes for a long moment before she bit out, “Which liberties did you
take?”
“Er, you see... I arranged
for... Someone... To come take care of you.”
“...Who?”
The fingers began to twist
together again in apparent agitation.
“Um... Miroku-san?”
Oh, no.
No.
She didn’t.
Sango ran a hand through
her auburn hair. “Kagome-chan. Why in the world would you enlist his
help in taking care of me? God! He’s my ex-boyfriend. Do you take joy in
setting me up for awkward situations? Or are you just trying to set me up?”
Kagome’s silence told it
all.
Ah, well... It wasn’t much
of a secret that she’d wanted her two oldest friends to get back together ever
since Sango had caught him being a bit too forward with a waitress when she got
stuck in traffic on her way to a dinner. After that, Sango had pretty much
avoided Miroku, unless it was in a group setting. Even then, it was still a
difficult situation for Sango, because, although she wouldn’t admit it out
loud, she still really, really liked Miroku... As in, really.
Needless to say,
Kagome’s... meddling... was not conducive to Sango’s attempts to move on. At
all.
“I’m sorry?” Kagome tried,
hoping to appease Sango.
“No, you’re not. But it’s
fine. I just won’t let him in. That’s what locks are for. You can call him and
tell him that I don’t need him. I can take care of myself.”
“Ah... That reminds me. I
sort of gave him a copy of your key?”
Sango stared. What was
she? Insane? She had to be! Giving Miroku her key... He could make copies!
“...Fine. I’ll use the
chain lock.”
“I had Inuyasha remove
that last night when I left. You were asleep.”
“Kagome-chan--”
The younger woman suddenly
stood up, interrupting. “Look... I know you don’t like it that much. But,
Miroku-san was the only person I could find who had no plans over the holidays,
and who I could trust enough to leave you with.” Sango snorted, but her friend
continued nevertheless. “He will take care of you really well, because he’s
still head over heels for you.”
That’s what Sango was
scared of.
“I’m really sorry that I
can’t stay myself,” Kagome went on to say, “but I haven’t seen my family in a
few years, and I really want to check up on Souta and Jii-chan and Mama. And
I’m not trying to set you guys up to get back together, Sango-chan. I’m really
not. I do want you guys to at least work out your differences and be
friends again, because the long, uncomfortable silences that have been rising
up between you two whenever you, him, Inuyasha and I go out are really
tedious.”
“Don’t worry about it...”
Sango sighed. “I’ll live.”
“Okay. I’ll call when I
get to
“Yeah. See you in two
weeks.”
...That is, if she hadn’t
gone crazy by the time Kagome got back.
-
“Sango?”
She hadn’t even heard the
door open. Then again, she’d been too busy puking her guts out to hear just
about anything. So, as anyone could guess, Sango was in just the peachiest
mood.
“Go away, Sekushii-san,”
she muttered, still hunched over her toilet when he found her. Sango heard him
sigh when he saw her.
“Oh, Sango...” He crouched
down next to her, and lightly touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Obviously, I’m not,”
Sango said. Miroku sighed again, then stood and left. He came back a minute
later with a glass of water in hand. Privately grateful, she took it when it
was offered, taking a sip and swishing it around in her mouth before spitting
it into the toilet to get rid of the lingering taste of vomit. That done, she
sat back onto the cool tile and rested the back of her head against the wall,
watching Miroku as he closed the toilet lid and flushed it, not bothering to
look at the contents.
“So...” he said, dropping
down onto the closed toilet. Sango couldn’t help but notice that he looked much
as he had the last time she’d seen him. He was still tall and lean and in
shape. He still had those striking gray eyes that looked violet in the right
lighting, and his black hair was still unruly and a tad too long by most
people’s standards, tied back into a short tail. Briefly, Sango remembered a
time where she would let his hair down teasingly so that she could run her
hands through it before he kissed her... But that was in the past, and Sango
quickly brushed the memory to the back of her mind.
“What are you doing here?”
she asked tiredly. He smiled that smile, the one that she had always a-
Sango made herself stop. ‘Enough. I’m being silly... It must be the fever.
I’m delirious.’
“Kagome asked me to come
help you, and I couldn’t very well refuse. It wouldn’t fit in with that
chivalrous thing I’ve got going on.”
“Yeah,” Sango grumbled,
staring at her checkered shower curtain. “You’re chivalrous all right.” She
knew she was being bitter, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t as though she had
exactly consented to be in this ridiculous situation anyway. Besides, long
quiets meant that she didn’t have to talk, and a long quiet it was.
“Sango...” Miroku finally
forced himself to say, although she continued to avoid looking at him. “I can
help you with anything you need. Really! You won't regret having me here,
okay?”
She finally did turn back
to him to send him a glare. "Let me see. My stomach feels like its dying,
I have a headache that seems to want to evolve into a migraine, and my uterus
is falling out... can you help with that?" Really. Periods were so
inconvenient. She was sick enough- why did she have to have that to worry about
too? Today was just not Sango’s day.
Miroku seemed a bit
bemused. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, come on, let’s get you to bed.” He assisted
her in getting up and practically half-carried her to her bedroom, much to
Sango’s unhappiness.
The feeling of his hand
against the small of her back was just a little too familiar for her tastes...
-
It had been three days
since Kagome had left Sango with Miroku, and she still had an awful fever.
Though, that wasn’t to say that she wasn’t more comfortable. Kagome, as much as
Sango hated the fact, had been right. Miroku was taking good care of her; very
good care. He was practically doting on her! He brought her practically
whatever she asked for. Saltine crackers, chicken noodle soup, Sprite... He’d
even gone out and bought her a heating pad for her cramps, telling her that she
needn’t bother to pay him back.
At the moment, he was in
the front room, vacuuming. She could hear the motor running, and over it, the
radio station he had turned on. It was an American one- he’d always liked their
music, for some reason. Then again, a fair number of the people she knew did.
It was inevitable when one had to study English from one’s first year in
school.
What was wrong, though,
was that he was singing along with the song.
“Don't need all my
other ladies, I'm beggin' for this little lady. 'Cause I tell you she's cool.
She's divine...”
His voice echoed into her
room, and Sango let out an unconscious sigh. Why did he have to be so...
Miroku? Once she was better, she really would have to give Kagome a talking to.
Even if she did want them to be friends again, forcing Sango into such a
situation as she was in now wasn’t going to make any progress.
“Never knew there was
such a lady, that would make me want to straighten out my life at this time,
but I find I'm thinkin' 'bout this pretty lady...”
God, she missed him. He
was always so cheerful and happy. He’d always been the light in her life.
Biting her lip, Sango
rolled over and closed her eyes, trying to block out everything. Her thoughts,
her lingering feelings, and most of all... Miroku.
-
“Here’s your chicken soup,
Sango,” Miroku said, handing her the bowl. “Careful. It’s hot.”
“Thank you, Sekushii-san,”
she mumbled, eating a spoonful before setting it on her nightstand to let it
cool. After that, she rolled back over so that she faced away from Miroku.
Sango almost expected him to say something, anything, but he didn’t. The only
sound that she could catch was that of him leaving, and then coming back a few
moments later. She felt the bed shift when he sat down beside her, looking down
at her face. She asked him what he wanted, her voice muffled by her pillows.
“Is there anything you
need done? Chores? Shopping? Whatever it is, I’ll do it for you.” He offered
her a warm smile, and she snapped her eyes shut so that she wouldn’t be thrown
into nostalgia because of it.
“Laundry,” she said,
thinking fast. “Everything should already be sorted. The baskets are in my
bathroom. The quarters are on my desk.” As she lived in an apartment, there was
no room for her own washer and dryer. Instead, there was a mini laundromat that
only residents had access to. “Stay with the clothes though. People steal stuff
sometimes.”
“Okay.” Miroku seemed to
hesitate, before he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, although her eyes
were still closed. “Merry Christmas.”
Sango felt as though her
heart was breaking.
It was once he left the
apartment completely, with her clothes in tow, that she allowed herself to open
her eyes. Lying on the bed in front of her was a red box, about a foot long and
a few inches wide, held closed by a silver ribbon. Sitting up, she forced
herself to pull it into her lap with shaky hands. Slipping the ribbon off
carefully, she willed herself to open the box.
Inside, resting on the
black velvet covered bottom, was a single red rose.
Her breath caught, and she
traced the curve of the petals reverently. A red rose... Everyone knew what it
symbolized. A small card was tied to the stem, and she carefully picked the
flower up so that she could read it.
“Still.”
That was all.
A red rose meant, “I Love
You.”
He still loved her.
Sango couldn’t help it.
She started to cry.
-
Miroku returned about two
hours later, balancing the two baskets of folded clothes precariously. “Where
do you want...” he said, trailing off when he saw Sango. “Oh.” She was sitting
up on her bed, her head bowed over the sole rose he had given her. Cautiously,
he set the laundry down beside the bedroom door to go take a seat at the foot
of her bed. Sango glanced up a bit, before flushing and dropping her head back
down.
He considered her. She
seemed drawn and tired, possibly from her sickness, but he would guess that she
had been crying. It was rare, and he’d seen her do so only once or twice
before, but it was a look he recognized.
He hadn’t meant to make
her cry.
“I meant it, you know,”
Miroku said softly, unable to keep the hopeful edge from his tone.
“I know,” she whispered.
“Then... I... Do you...
Ah...” Miroku stopped, words failing him for only the second time he could
remember in his life. The first had been when Sango had broken off their
relationship.
She knew what he was
trying to say. “I don’t know.”
“Sango...” he was silently
begging her to explain, so she did.
“It’s just... hard. I
don’t know what to think. I don’t know if I could trust you like I did, even
though I want to. I’m not sure of what I feel, or what I want to say... I don’t
know what I should do about this!” She brandished the rose, but let it drop
with a cry when she pricked her finger on a thorn. “Damn it!”
Miroku quickly rose to go
grab the small medical kit she kept in her bathroom. Once he had returned, he
drew her hand away from her face, as she had tried to soothe her finger by
placing it in her mouth. Wiping away the blood with a wet wipe, he quickly
applied antiseptic before covering the small injury with a Band-Aid. Giving
Sango a small grin, he kissed her finger before letting go of her hand and
withdrawing his own.
She caught his hand,
tightening her fingers around his. “Miroku...” He squeezed back, moving to
touch her cheek fondly. She sighed.
“I understand. I should
have treated you better, instead of flirting with that girl. I’m sorry, Sango.
And I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss watching old movies
with you on the couch, and falling asleep halfway through. I miss waking up the
next morning, with you warm in my arms. I miss touching you-”
She cut him off. “Me, or
my ass?”
He chuckled, bringing a
watery smile to her face. “Both. You know what else I miss?”
“What do you miss?” she
asked quietly as he stroked her hair, before taking a moment to trace the shape
of her lips.
“I miss kissing you.”
“Well,” Sango said, “if
you kiss me now, you might get sick.”
He did it anyway.
"Merry Christmas,
Sango," he intoned warmly, when he pulled away. She pulled him close so
that she was in his embrace, her head against his shoulder.
"Merry
Christmas."
-
“Here’s your soup.”
Miroku groaned as he sat
up, taking the bowl. “God... This is awful.”
Sango giggled, ruffling
his bangs as she would have her brother’s when she was younger. “I told you not
to kiss me that one time, but no... You wouldn’t listen. It’s your own fault.”
He gave her a roguish
grin. “It was worth it.”
“If you say so.” Sango
checked her watch. “I need to go pick Kagome-chan up from the airport.”
“No you don’t.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Why is that?”
The grin widened.
“Because. As my lovely,
heaven-sent and beloved girlfriend, it’s your duty to stay here and keep me
company, as I kept you company when you were unwell! Oh, I know! You can keep
me warm; help me sweat out this fever.” He gave her a wink, and Sango rolled
her eyes.
“Keep dreaming, Miroku.”
And, blowing him a kiss,
Sango made her exit.
---
Aamalie: How mushy can I get? A year ago, I
would have killed before I jumped on the Christmas Special!Bandwagon. And here
I am now. Oh well. Fluff is teh shiznits. Review!
Oh, and by the way,
Miroku’s last name (Sekushii) means “sexy”.
So basically, when Sango
called him “Sekushii-san”, she was calling him Mr. Sexy.
Gotta love it.
xD