Bonding Time – Part Two

Sango was pulling at her end of the handcuffs when he woke up. Miroku noticed the skin beneath Sango's cuff was being rubbed raw by her attempts. "Sango, stop it," he commanded and grabbed her hands.

Sango glared at him. "Why? Don't you want to be away from your ugly, flat-chested hanger-on? I'm keeping all the pretty girls away from you."

"Sango!" Miroku's eyebrows drew together. "I never called you ugly and- and I don't care if other girls are around or not."

"Ah, but you didn't deny calling me flat-chested."

"When did I ever say that?"

"You said I have nothing to be ogled!" Sango turned away.

Miroku grasped her chin and pulled her face back. "I didn't mean it like that. And, besides," he leaned forward and lowered his voice till it was barely audible, "some men prefer smaller breasts."

Sango blinked and then drew back, now silent. In truth, she was confused. What did he mean? Did he- She shook her head. Of course not. He was a lech. The larger, the better. Right?

Miroku stood, pulling Sango to her feet. "Come on. We might be able to find something we missed last night."

Sango watched him out of the corner of her eye as they searched for any clue of the tanuki's whereabouts. He acted no differently than ever, except perhaps winking at her when he caught her staring, but he could not just deny his whisper. The way he had said it, his voice was so... sincere.

Sango snorted. There was nothing sincere about her companion other than his love for groping. But, she stopped walking as the thought developed, did Miroku actually love groping? Sure, he _enjoyed_ it, what man wouldn't? But he had not once tried to touch her in any way other than concerned friendship since their unwilling bondage. She recalled his words of two nights prior, "I don't take advantage." And he wasn't.

Miroku, who stopped when she did, brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "Sango, what's wrong?"

Sango glanced up and got lost in his gaze. His eyes were absolutely gorgeous. Why hadn't she ever noticed? What would it be like to wake up every morning with those eyes lovingly locked on her own?

So caught up in her fantasy, Sango did not hear him ask again. When the question finally registered, she looked away into the brush, blushing, and stammered, "I-I thought I heard something, but i-it was nothing."

Miroku nodded, clearly not believing her, but he accepted the answer with a shrug. "All right then, let's-" A rustle from a bush behind him made him whirl and stand protectively in front of Sango.

A tanuki emerged from the shrubbery, pulling sticks out of his fur. It was not the tanuki of the night before. "Hachi!" Miroku exclaimed.

Hachi glanced up, and a grin broke over his features. "Miroku-dono!" He turned to Sango. "Sango-san! This is for you!" He reached into the bush and, with much heaving and gasping, brought out a gigantic boomerang.

Sango's eyes lit up. "Hiraikotsu!"

Hachi wrinkled his nose. "It is? I just thought it looked similar..." he trailed off when Sango dropped to her knees and embraced him, Miroku being dragged to the ground with her.

"You found it! You found it! Wait," she drew back, "where did you get it?"

"Oh," Hachi toyed with a strap on his clothing, "I bought it from a kitsune. It looked like yours, and I was going to give it to you as a spare, but since it's the real one, I guess you don't need a spare."

Miroku lifted his face from the dirt. "A kitsune? Not a tanuki?"

Nod. "A kitsune."

"You sure?"

"Miroku-dono, it looked like a kitsune, it smelled like a kitsune, it haggled like a kitsune. It was a kitsune."

Beside them, Sango shouted, "Of course!" She clapped a hand to her forehead. "I was so _stupid_! I saw kitsune tracks breaking off from the tanuki's, but I never thought a kitsune would disguise itself as another shape-changing youkai. I can't believe I missed it. It was right there, practically biting my nose off."

Hachi laid a comforting paw on her shoulder. "Sometimes the most obvious is the most hidden; so says an ancient tanuki proverb."

Sango tilted her head. "Really?"

"Well, no." Hachi placed his paw behind his head. "I just made it up. Does it sound good? I'll have to write it down. Maybe write a book. 'Hachi's Collection of Not so Ancient Tanuki Proverbs.'"

Miroku interrupted his musings. "Which way was the kitsune headed?"

Hachi paused and then pointed east. "To Musashi's Domain actually. Perhaps he'll stop by that village of yours."

Miroku nodded. "Perhaps. At the least, we can pick up Kirara. She has a much better nose than either of us."

He and Hachi clasped arms. The tanuki started. "The Kaze ana is gone."

Miroku grinned. "I know."

Hachi made a thoughtful noise in his throat and bowed to Sango. "Sango-san, take care of him and yourself."

"Why does he need taken care of?"

Hachi winked. "I noticed the kubiwa-ai you two wear," he gestured to the golden chain and smirked knowingly. "Good luck on your life's journey! Until we meet again!" He bowed and scampered into the brush.

Sango and Miroku shared a perplexed expression. "Hachi," Miroku called into the forest, "what do you mean?"

But the tanuki was already gone.

Sango ran the fingers of her left hand through her tangled hair while she waited for Miroku to finish urinating. The first few days had been uncomfortable and filled with fidgeting when either one or the other met nature's call; but, as it was going on a week that they had been attached, they had grown, if not comfortable, at least used to it.

The rustle of robes being replaced announced his finish, and he stepped out from behind a tree. Sango stood, and they ventured to the river they had stopped at to rest. Sango continued to finger comb her hair, and Miroku idly sat on the bank with his feet in the water.

Sango began, "What do you think Hachi was talking about?" She had asked that same question several dozen times since their encounter with the tanuki.

Miroku gave his regular reply, "I don't know."

Normally they would then retreat to their respective thoughts, but this time, Sango lifted her head and stammered nervousky, "Houshi-sama, I-I'm..." She twisted her yukata in her hands. "I'm sorry for accusing you of," she flushed, "ogling. I know you wouldn't- wait, I know you _would_, but I don't think you did then."

Miroku had looked up at the beginning of her apology and now extended his hand to her. "All right. I'll accept that if you accept mine. What I said about your breasts..." he paused, smiling slightly. "I was angry, stressed. Truth be told, your breasts are actually quite nice."

Sango snorted. "Pervert."

Miroku grabbed her hand. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

Sango rolled her eyes and pulled free. She started combing her hair again. She winced as her fingers discovered a particularly nasty tangle.

Miroku moved slightly behind her and gathered her hair to the nape of her neck. "Your hair's a mess," he stated the obvious.

Sango nodded. "I never got a chance to tie it back."

"You forgot."

Sango shrugged. "It doesn't really matter anyway, I lost my ribbon."

Miroku reached into the robes over his heart and pulled out her pink ribbon. "I picked it up."

Sango's brows knitted. "Why?"

"Because," he leaned forward while he looped it around her thick hair and murmured, "it looks good on you."

Sango turned her head so he could not see her blush. Miroku quickly tied a knot in the ribbon and stood, helping her up. "Come on, we still have a few hours of daylight left."