Bonding Time – Part Four

Sango stirred her instant ramen around in its stryofoam cup, trying to pretend the blush staining her cheeks did not exist. It had sprung up the moment she woke up. She had still been in the undignified position she had fallen asleep in, and Miroku had only been partially clothed, a state that she felt was something she had had a hand in.

To her horror, Miroku was also awake. He had not said anything, only looked at her and refastened his robes after she rolled off. Then they had silently gathered a handful of dry sticks and started a fire to boil their water for breakfast.

Sango was not sure she could finish her ramen. And a quick glance at Miroku showed that he was not eating either. In fact, he was staring at her, the same stare she saw when she had woken up. Sango's heart constricted in her chest.

He looked like a lost puppy or perhaps one that had been kicked by its master. _Why_ was he looking at her like that? After all, she had not done anything to deserve that forlorn, betrayed gaze. She had practically molested him! He must think she was a wanton whore now, but he would not stare at her like that if he did, would he?

Steeling her will, Sango raised her eyes to meet his and ventured, "Houshi-sama?"

Miroku glanced away then, biting his lip.

Sango hesitantly touched his shoulder. "Houshi-sama?" she tried again.

Miroku grabbed her hand with both of his and traced her palm with his thumbs, all the while staring at it as if trying to burn its image into his memory.

Sango was extremely worried. Miroku was acting so strangely, and his behavior scared her. Since the "Houshi-sama"s had failed, Sango approached the problem from a different angle. "Miroku," her voice was far weaker than she had intended, but the result was spectacular.

Miroku's gaze shot up to her face, and he released her hand only to catch her into an embrace. He buried his face in her neck, gasping raggedly for breath.

Sango was shocked. She had seen tears in the corners of his eyes the brief moment their gazes locked. "Miroku," she stated with more confidence as she placed her free hand on the back of his head, "what's wrong?"

Miroku drew back just enough to see her eyes. "I'm so afraid of losing you," he whispered.

Sango's mouth worked for a minute with no sound before she managed to gather her voice. "Houshi-sama, what do you mean?"

Miroku stiffened and pulled away, his expression falling into a blank, stoic mask. "It's nothing. Come on, we have a kitsune to catch." He stood and offered a hand to her.

Sango took it, and Miroku turned towards the forest. "But, Hou-" She shook her head violently. "Miroku! You said-"

Miroku whirled towards her, hand raised to strike. "It's nothing!" he yelled.

Sango jumped back in surprise, eyes wide.

Miroku abruptly rotated again. "Let's go." He paused and tossed over his shoulder, "Taijya-san!"

Sango flinched. He had said it like a curse, and that's all she was to him. A curse attached to him by a delicate, golden chain. Better if he was still cursed by the Kaze ana than her. With head bowed, Sango started after Miroku, walking a step behind him.

It was petty, he knew. Addressing her by her title, hurting her like she had hurt him every day. Houshi-sama, Houshi-sama. Damn it, he was more than Houshi-sama! He wanted to be more to her! He wanted her to call him Miroku, Miroku-kun, even Miroku-san, anything but Houshi-sama! It hurt. Every time. It was worse today. He expected the initial pain. Those "Houshi-sama"s had only warranted a slight twinge of pain. But then, she had said, "Miroku."

His hopes had been raised; he had been bold. Hugging her, touching her, opening his feelings to her. All had soon been crushed. "Houshi-sama" again. _That_ had been pain, but even that was not the end of it.

She had begun to speak that accursed word when she had changed, shifted it to "Miroku." He had not been expecting pain to result from his name, but it had. Rage had blown through him, and he had nearly hit her. He was _this_ close to striking her. He never wanted that to happen. He did not want Sango to be afraid of him, to travel demurely in his shadow like a proper lady.

She had hurt him, and he had reciprocated, and now she was afraid. She did not realize the power she held over him, how she could use his name to drive a knife into his back or melt him into a puddle of helpless goo. She did not know that she hurt him, and she did not know why he had hurt her.

But he knew she could and would speculate, that she would probably think he hated her, that she had tread too closely to him, that she was a failure.

Sighing, he glanced back at her and saw that her head was down, her shoulders hunched. He stopped and turned around. "Damn it, Sango."

Sango jumped back, inhaling sharply.

Miroku softened his voice. "Sango, I'm sorry for snapping. It's just been a long week."

Sango nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. "Houshi-sama-"

Miroku hissed and, placing his hands on the sides of her face, forced her to meet his gaze. "Don't call me that, Sango. Please don't."

Sango nodded again, and they walked on side by side now. The demon huntress abruptly halted. "I'm sorry for this morning! Miroku, I don't know why I- I untied your robes! I-"

Miroku placed a finger on her lips. "Don't. I didn't mind. I like being naked for you." He mentally kicked himself. What was _that_?

Sango blinked, clearly not expecting an answer like that.

Miroku hurried on before that foot-in-mouth could be dwelled upon any longer. "There's a village not far from here. We can stop there for the night. It would be good for us to sleep off the ground once in awhile."

Sango protested, "But we just started-"

"About five hours ago," Miroku interrupted. "We didn't start until well after noon. You were enjoying your sleep..." He grinned. "Or perhaps it was your bed."

Sango flushed, but shot back, "Well, you didn't complain about your blanket!"

"Nope." Miroku's eyes twinkled with delight. "Especially when that blanket stripped me."

Sango ducked her head, not having a retort. Miroku chuckled and lost himself in his thoughts as they traveled onward. Sango broke into his reflections when the smoke from the village chimneys' rose into view. "Eh, Miroku, how are we going to explain this?" She shook the chain.

Miroku winked. "Don't worry. I have a plan."

Miroku approached the house of the village elder confidently, while beside him Sango was less sure of herself. Miroku grabbed her hand and squeezed it, smiling at her. "Calm down. It's just as normal as always."

Sango hissed, "It is not! We're chained together with a kitsune sex toy!"

Miroku waved her silent. As they drew nearer the house, a young woman kneeling in front of a small herb garden saw them and stood. She brushed the dirt off her yukata and watched them curiously.

Miroku stopped half a dozen paces from her and bowed. "My companion and I were passing through when we noticed a dark cloud over this house. I can banish it, but it will take time. Could we have a room for the night in which to focus the cleansing energy?"

The young woman looked confused. She glanced over her shoulder at the house as if to ask permission, and her stiff posture relaxed. "Okasan can... um, see to your request." She bowed.

Miroku thanked her, grinning charm the entire time, and swept past her. He and Sango arrived at the house's entrance where a middle-aged woman with graying hair stood.

"You think I was born yesterday? There's a dark cloud here as much as your relationship with her," she pointed at Sango, "is merely platonic. So you want a room?"

Miroku nodded wordlessly.

"I suppose since there is no inn in this village that we can offer a room of ours. Are you married?"

Miroku quickly answered, "Yes!" Just as quickly, Sango said, "No!"

They looked at each other, then back to the woman. From Miroku: "No!" From Sango: "Yes!"

At the woman's raised eyebrow, Miroku clarified their mixed up responses. "We _will_ be married. Next month."

The woman nodded. "Uh-huh, I see..." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're traveling alone together because..."

Miroku was tempted to tell her to mind her own business, but one must always respect one's elders... especially where a room for the night is involved. He cleared his throat. "Well, her father is sick, and she has no brothers or uncles. We are traveling to an aging aunt of hers in Kyoto to tell of our engagement."

The woman made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. "Interesting. Monks these days. Ah well, it's not for me to judge. Come along..."

Sango stared up at the ceiling of the small room they had been given. Once again she could not sleep. Her complaint this time was the surface she was lying on, a pile of blankets, was _too_ conmfortable.

Miroku was not having any trouble though. Sango turned on her side to watch him, and her heart leapt into her throat when she realized he was awake and watching her in turn.

"Can't sleep?" He asked.

The answer seemed obvious, so all Sango did was nod. Miroku suddenly grabbed her waist and pulled her partially on top of him.

Sango resisted. "Miroku, what are you doing?"

"You need a pillow, and I need a blanket." He winked.

"But," Sango squirmed into a better position, "what if they," she jerked her chin towards the door to indicate their hosts, "come in?"

Miroku shrugged. "I guess we could make it look good. Want to strip me again?"

Sango snorted and hit his shoulder. "I think not." She moved off of him, but Miroku's arm around her middle stopped her from rolling away.

"You still need a pillow," he offered.

A warm feeling rushed through her body at the gentle smile he flashed at her. Biting her lip to keep from grinning, she silently lowered her head to his shoulder and curled up against his side, falling almost instantly asleep.

For three days after they left the village, Sango and Miroku followed Kirara. The cat youkai had caught the kitsune's scent almost the moment they stepped out of the village. It had seemed like they were going to catch up with him soon, but as time dragged on and Kirara became more hesitant over which path to follow, they were beginning to admit defeat.

They had now been bound together for nearly two weeks. Although they had become accustomed to the constant physical contact, both wanted their privacy, Sango especially wanted a bath.

Dusk was approaching when Kirara's ears suddenly shot forward, and she bounded into the brush. Sango and Miroku followed as best they could and, when they reached Kirara, found her pinning the kitsune to the ground with a dangerously clawed paw.

The kitsune yapped at her and grinned at the two humans when he noticed them. "Hey, you lovers, how ya doin'?"

Miroku held up their hands, and the kitsune sighed dramatically. "Not lovers yet, I see."

"Take it off!" Sango ordered.

The kitsune chuckled. "Can't. Haven't you figured it out? Only those who are tied together can get rid of it. That's why it makes such a great mating tool. 100% satisfaction guarantee." He winked, smirking.

Kirara snarled and snapped at his face.

The kitsune rolled his eyes at her melodramatics. "Call the kitty off, and I'll tell you how far you actually have to go to break the kubiwa-ai."

Miroku nodded to Sango, and she summoned Kirara to her side. The cat gave the fox one final growl before backing up and trotting to Sango.

"Well?" Miroku prompted.

The kitsune sprang to his feet and dusted his clothes off. "The bite. All you have to do is bite her."

"So I could bite her right now and-?"

The kitsune held up a hand to forestall him. "Nope, you have to complete the other steps first. I'll wish you two luck. Humans." He shook his head and walked away from them, muttering, "How they've survived so long I'll never know."

Miroku started after him, intent on beating further information from his russet-colored head, but Sango held him back. "He's told us everything he's going to." Her shoulders slumped. "At least it isn't full-fledged sex that frees us..."

"So you should have let me bite you last week!"

"You heard what he said, Miroku. The steps have to be in order."

"And?" The monk prodded. "Where do bites rank?"

Sango flushed. "Right before sex. To really matter, it has to have the um, full force of uh, sexual energy behind it. That's how kitsunes mark their mates, sex is just... um, a consummation of that already formed bond." She looked down, refusing to meet his eyes, embarrassed at the extent of her knowledge of kitsune mating habits.

"So what do we do first?"

Startled, Sango's head shot up. "What...? You-you're willing to...?"

"If you are." Miroku locked his gaze with hers. The intensity of the stare kept her eyes in place. He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. "Sango, I already told you that I won't force you into anything."

Sango gave the barest hint of a nod, and Miroku smiled and embraced her one-handed. "So let's sleep on this decision. It'll seem a lot less confusing in the morning."