Sanctuary – Part II: Choices

There was a whoosh as Hiraikotsu cut back through the air. Sango caught the weapon with ease, reigning in its momentum and moving it to her shoulder in one fluid movement. She pushed her bangs from her eyes with one hand as the final demon she’d just exterminated fell to the ground in pieces. “Well, that was easy enough,” she stated with evident satisfaction, just as Inuyasha stepped up from behind, shaking a few drops of putrid-smelling blood from his claws in disgust.

“Feh,” he muttered. “Almost too easy. I’ll bet their only purpose was to annoy and smash things up.” He paused, looking around. “Oi. Where’d Kagome get to anyway?” He scowled and shouted out her name, but no response came.

Sango frowned, looking around. “Houshi-sama isn’t here either. Maybe they’re closer to the well?” During the fight, the two of them had journeyed farther into the woods, chasing down some of the youkai that had slipped past their first attacks and heading them off before they reached the village. Inuyasha didn’t answer, springing off towards the landmark, and Sango quickly followed.

She wasn’t particularly worried about either of her companions, to tell the truth. Houshi-sama, for one, was resourceful enough (if not too resourceful), and she had confidence in his fighting ability. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been running to lend Kagome-chan his assistance, who wasn’t totally at a loss in a fight either, with her developing abilities as a miko and an archer. All in all, it was very unlikely that anything unfortunate may have happened.

Up ahead, Inuyasha let fly an expletive, and a knot of apprehension coiled deep in Sango’s belly. She didn’t have to ask what was wrong, because she soon stepped into the familiar clearing and saw for herself why Inuyasha had cursed so violently.

The clearing itself had been affected by the attack. There were deep gashes in the dirt that disrupted the otherwise green grass, and several trees had been crushed beneath the impact of a flying demon or one of their own attacks. Near the path leading back to the village, a bloated spider dead lay dead on its back, its legs still twitching grotesquely every few seconds, and Sango could see several other pieces of youkai carcass scattered here and there.

Yet, none of that was what captured her attention the most.

There, in the center of the swell of clear land, the well was in shambles. The wood that created its barrier was in splinters that were scattered all around. She was just in time to see Inuyasha jump down into its depths, but the flash of light that usually followed his or Kagome’s descent never came, and Sango crept to the edge, looking down. Inuyasha stood at the bottom, surrounded by rocks and looking cross. A moment later, he leapt back up, something held in his hand: Miroku’s shakujou.

“The fucking well is broken,” he swore, furious. “It’s not working, but both of their scents lead down there, and I found this down there.” He tossed her the staff, which she caught and examined. It was his.

“You think Kagome may have gone back to her time?” Sango asked, her grip tightening on the monk’s weapon. Inuyasha gave a rough shrug as he moved around the well, inspecting it from all angles. “But then, what about Houshi-sama?” she continued, trying to remain calm. “You know that you and Kagome are the only ones who can use the well. It doesn’t react to anyone else!”

“Yeah, well, his fucking scent ends here, so who knows? Damn magic,” he growled.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Sango argued. “It doesn’t work for us!” She knew that for a fact. Months before, when she had first joined the group, Houshi-sama had told her about the well and its use, telling her to avoid the area when Inuyasha was in a bad mood and waiting for Kagome to return. Later, he had shown her the location, demonstrating how it did nothing when he jumped in. She had even tried it herself, only to have to slap the monk when he’d groped her under the pretense of helping her out of the dark hole.

“Then where are they?” Inuyasha retorted, glaring at her.

“I don’t know,” Sango snapped, her temper starting to fray. She knew that she needed to do something, rather than stand here and speculate. She lived her life by putting thought to action, not sitting around and wondering. “Why don’t you go try and see if you can pick up another trail, and I’ll go to the village and find some men to help repair the well?”

“Fine,” he said, his irritation audible. He stalked over to a clump of bushes and pulled Kagome’s backpack from them and tossing it to Sango. “Take this to the village.” Then, he turned and bounded off without another word.

“Kirara!” Sango called, and the transformed youkai hurried to her side. The taijiya climbed onto the demon cat’s back and Kirara jumped into the air, the wind causing the fire at her paws to flicker but not extinguish. Sango gripped her companion’s creamy fur to hide the way her fingers shook with sudden worry. She allowed herself a brief moment of insecurity.

Kagome-chan, she thought, wishing that her friend could hear what was on her mind, I hope that you are alright… And, Houshi-sama, if you or Kagome-chan are hurt, I’m going to slap you clear into next week for not taking care of yourself!

“Clumsy lecher,” she muttered, more fondly than she realized, her fingers straying absently to the shakujou balanced on her lap.

Then, she took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, for they had cleared the trees of the forest and Kirara was spiraling down to land in front of Kaede-sama’s home. Sango dismounted Kirara as soon as her paws touched the ground, and she hurried off to gather assistance.

-

Miroku had fallen into a sort of daze staring blankly around him from beneath the Goshinboku tree, and Kagome really couldn’t blame him. His now-bare right hand rested on his knees, palm upwards, and he would flex his fingers every so often, as if to remind himself of what was really happening. Kagome sat a short distance away, watching him occasionally and trying to figure things out.

After the revelation about the Kazaana, she had sat him down and ran into her home to inform her family about what had happened. They had been surprised to see her again, as she had just left that morning and they hadn’t expected her back for a few weeks. After explaining though, her mother had agreed to keep Kagome’s grandfather inside of the house for the time being. Needless to say, now wasn’t the time to let the old man needle her shocked friend with inane questions, as he would be apt to do upon discovering that an authentic monk from the past had come a-visiting.

Then, she had hurried back to the well house, only to discover that she couldn’t get through the portal. Several more attempts made no difference, and Kagome had been left with a frustration reminiscent of the time Inuyasha had shoved a tree down the well to block her path. She then unhappily decided to return to Miroku’s side and set about attempting to reason out what had happened.

Kagome sighed heavily as she settled beside her friend. “The well won’t open.”

“Hmm?” He glanced her way, his violet eyes clouded as though he were half-lost in a dream. Slowly, they began to clear. “You mean you cannot go back through?”

“It’s like last time. There must be something blocking it on the other side,” Kagome sighed. She smoothed a wrinkle out of her sleeve, trying to hide the agitation she felt. While she loved the era she had been born into, with her home, her school, her friends and the whole world at her fingertips, being cut off from the world she had stumbled across not so long ago was disconcerting. She found herself worrying.

She and Miroku-sama were safe and sound with everything in tact (for the most part), but what of their friends? They had been tossed through the well in the midst of a battle. Most of their opponents had indeed been relatively weak, but they hadn’t been incapable of inflicting damage. Kagome needed to get back through, if only to put her own mind at ease.

“I hardly think that this turn of events is anything like the past situation, Kagome-sama,” Miroku said after a moment’s thought. “In fact, I believe it will be amended quickly, as the damage was accidental. Inuyasha won’t hesitate to make sure it is repaired. Besides, even if he did, he would have to convince Sango first...”

Kagome smiled a little at the thought. “That’s true. I’ve always been able to get back through. It’s something I worry about though, each time I cross that ledge. What if it’s the last time?” She paused for a moment, giving that idea to the breeze and letting it drift away. “This is different though. I’ve never been stranded here with anyone else.”

“It is unusual,” the monk agreed, flexing his fingers over his palm again. “I don’t see how it even became possible that I came to this time, save by a most unlikely and extraordinary coincidence. The perfect timing, if you will, of us falling through the well and its breaking at the exact same moment would seem the most likely explanation. However, considering the particular qualities of the well, there could possibly be a dozen other reasons why it may have happened.”

“To be honest,” Kagome began, “I’m more curious as to why the Kazaana disappeared. Miroku-sama... Do you think that...that Naraku is dead?”

Miroku ran his fingers along the beads that still circled his forearm—there was a part of him that whispered that a permanent reprieve from the curse was too good to be true.

“I have been asking myself that same question. Again, there are too many possible answers. It could be a trick, for one, to make us believe that Naraku is gone. Or perhaps he truly is dead...” A thought seemed to strike him then, and he pondered it a minute before he voiced his question aloud. “Kagome-sama, how many years is it between this time and ours?”

She was slightly puzzled at his question, but answered regardless. “The Sengoku Jidai was around five hundred years ago. Why?”

The monk chuckled, but there was a bitter edge present that had not been there before. “Five hundred years is a very long, long time, Kagome-sama. If Naraku is dead, when did he die? Maybe it was earlier, and while we were fighting someone with greater power than him managed to strike him down, and I did not notice the Kazaana’s disappearance until after I awoke from my unconscious state. Or perhaps it was this era’s yesterday, or any day between then and now.” There was a subtle note of frustration in his voice. “From here, we have no way of knowing the exact moment of Naraku’s demise.”

They fell into a heavy silence.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Kagome admitted past the lump in her throat after some time. “You know, to wonder when he dies. It’s a goal that we all work so hard to achieve, and we spend so many days and weeks and months just following his trail while he keeps one step ahead. Yet... he has never made any appearance in this era to attack my family or me—not even when the Shikon no Tama was inside of my body. So maybe we do succeed.”

“Or someone does, at least,” Miroku suggested, fisting his hand.

Kagome could have sworn she felt her heart break for her friend. What was it like, to have to stare death in the eye daily? It was no wonder why he chose to embrace life’s pleasures so freely, as perverse and corrupt as some of those pleasures undoubtedly were.

He was the embodiment of a man living each day as if it were his last.

The silence between them was stifling and awkward. Even the wind seemed to hush beneath the uncomfortable weight of it as the two friends contemplated the cursed monk’s fate. Miroku seemed to break free of the heaviness first and shook himself. A smile—clearly forced though he gave no sign that it was—worked its way onto his face as he quite obviously changed the subject.

“Forgive me for asking, but would you happen to have any food here, Kagome-sama? I’m a bit hungry.”

She nodded, slowly rising to her feet and brushing a few blades of grass from her skirt. “I’m sure Mama is making something for dinner soon, and we probably have a few snacks in the cupboards. Since we’re stuck here, might as well make the best of it.” Kagome cast him a concerned glance. “Just so you know, my Jii-chan might want to ask you a lot of questions. I’ve already told them not to, but...”

Miroku nodded reassuringly, pushing himself off of the ground. “It’s not problem Kagome-sama. I’d be honored to meet your family.” Kagome smiled in relief and beckoned for him to follow, which he did, careful to contain the sigh that threatened to escape from his lips.

‘At the very least... I’ll be glad for the distraction...’

—

The well did not reopen that night.

It was clear that Kagome found it agitating by the way she had excused herself from dinner twice to go recheck it. She probably would have gone a third time had her mother not told her to eat her food with a reminder that Inuyasha would announce his presence without any prompting from anyone as soon as the portal was fixed.

Privately, Miroku was thankful for it.

There was something about the idea of returning back to the Sengoku Jidai that was repelling to him. In all terms of what made sense, he knew that he should want to go back, to discover what had become of Naraku and whether or not his quest had been completed without him. A small part of him did want that.

But there was another, greater part of him that completely rejected the notion of returning to his time. After all, if he were to pass back through to the well, back into reality, what would happen then?

The what ifs were enough to make his stomach turn.

What if Naraku was still alive? If he returned, would the curse reappear?

What if it did? Would he ever get rid of the Kazaana again?

Would he die before he could?

Miroku sighed, staring up at the dark ceiling of the guestroom Kagome’s family had loaned him listlessly. The only light shone dimly through the window, a pale glow all that the lonely stars and waning moon could offer. Sleep eluded him as he debated what was and what could be, and he wondered if he had always been this full of doubt and indecision.

He held his right hand to his heart, fingers fisted against his palm.

‘What would it be like,’ he wondered, ‘to live every day as if there were a tomorrow?’

The prayer beads he always wore clung to his wrist in a vice grip, glinting softly in the hopeless moonlight.

—

The next morning came all too soon and not soon enough.

“Good morning!” Kagome’s mother called from the sink when the monk found his way to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but think it was the most unusual room he had ever seen, a strange mixture of things that were recognizable from his own time and things that were completely foreign in nature. Kagome and the rest of her were already seated at the table. Feeling that remaining in the doorway would be awkward, Miroku returned the greeting and took a seat next to Souta.

The younger boy had been a bit wary of him the night before. It was fairly clear that Souta more or less idolized Inuyasha, and Miroku’s sudden appearance in the hanyou’s place had aroused his suspicions. Once all had been explained, however, he had warmed up to the monk immediately, asking nearly as many questions of Miroku about life in the past as Kagome’s grandfather had about spiritual matters.

“Did you sleep well?” Kagome inquired, taking a small bite of her breakfast. “You look a little tired, Miroku-sama.”

“Very well,” Miroku lied. He had barely slept at all, too wrapped up in his own clouded thoughts to find any rest. “I have to say that no daimyou’s castle I have visited in all my travels is as comfortable as your home, Kagome-sama, and none certainly contained its wonders.”

“I’m glad you—” she broke off as the room’s shoji door snapped open, whirling around to see who was the cause of the sudden ruckus. Her eyes widened. “Inuyasha!”

“There you guys are. I was—oof!” Inuyasha stumbled back a step when Kagome launched herself into him, hugging him tightly. “Kagome?”

“I was so worried!” she told him, her voice muffled against his chest. “When the well wouldn’t let me through, I thought that it might be broken for good this time!”

Looking rather surprised, the hanyou patted the girl on the back gently. “Well, uh, it’s fixed now. It got pretty trashed and took a while to fix, that’s all...”

Kagome looked up, sniffling a little. “Inuyasha...”

And then both seemed to freeze, turning their heads slowly as they realized that everyone in the room was watching them with rapt interest. Looking rather embarrassed, they separated, suddenly unable to look bear looking at one another.

Inuyasha cleared his throat. “Anyway, the well is open again, so we can get hurry up and get back. We’re already a day behind, and Naraku’s not going to wait on us to find that last shard.”

Kagome shot Miroku an unsure glance. “Yes, but—”

“Inuyasha’s right,” Miroku interrupted quickly, rising from the table. His mind was racing, and he knew that he wasn’t ready for the others to know about the Kazaana. Not yet. “We should get going. Time is of the essence in this pursuit.”

Hesitantly, Kagome nodded. She appeared to understand that, for some reason, he did not want her to reveal the state of his vanished curse. “Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s go.”

They made their farewells quickly and made their way across the Higurashi Shrine’s courtyard and into the well house. Inuyasha wasted no time in jumping down the stairs and onto the lip of the well, balancing there for a moment. He looked back at Miroku and Kagome as they descended the stairs. “Hurry up. We’ve got stuff to do.”

That said, he disappeared down the well with a flash of light.

Kagome followed his trail to the barrier around the hole and paused, glancing towards Miroku, who lingered on the last step. “Miroku-sama, do you want to go first? We don’t know if the well will let you back through.”

She watched as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and heard the hefty sigh that rushed from his lungs. And then—

“I’m not going back, Kagome-sama.”

“What?”

“I am staying here,” Miroku said, his voice empty of any inflection. He spoke his decision as if it were something outside of his own control, a mandate by gods or a simple matter of fact that no one could possibly change. His eyes avoided hers, and she followed them to where the rested on the hand by his side.

So this is why he hadn’t wanted her to say anything in front of Inuyasha.

“What do you mean, you’ll stay here?” Kagome demanded, feeling an uneasy anger creeping up in her towards her friend. “You can’t do that. What about everything on the other side?” She gestured to the well next to her heatedly, but the monk made no response. So, she tried again. “What about your quest? Don’t you want to make sure Naraku is really dead?”

A dry chuckle emanated from Miroku and he held up his now un-cursed hand. The outline of his empty palm was stark to Kagome’s eyes. “The Kazaana is gone, isn’t it?”

“What...” She was grasping at threads now, searching for something that might be able to shift his resolve. “What about Sango?”

Miroku frowned, puzzled. Sango? What did she have to do with this, and why did her name make a prick at his heart like a needle to the finger? He found his mind pulling at the memories he had of her, of her hand in his, of the brush of her whisper as they conferred quietly, of her weight on his shoulders as he carried her from danger, of the curve of her bottom beneath his delinquent hand, of her tears on his cheek as she promised not to leave him to die alone... Miroku shoved the thoughts away, clearing his head of the rising confusion.

“She’s not a part of this,” he told Kagome coolly. “And you’re not going to change my mind, Kagome-sama.”

She shook her head in disbelief, a humorless laugh choking its way out of her. “I can’t believe you, Miroku-sama. I thought you were better than this.” She turned her back to him, lifting a leg over the lip of the well. “When the others ask where you are, I’m not going to lie to them.”

And then she was gone.

Miroku released a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he hardened his resolve and made his way to the place where both of his companions had left. The silence fell down around him and breathed guilt into his mind, settling around his shoulders like a heavy weight.

Had he made the right choice?

Miroku stared down into the dark pit and was reminded of a darker one.

—

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed Part II, and I apologize it took so long. If I have the time, hopefully the last installment(s) will be posted relatively soon, but I can't make any promises. (Graduation more important than fanfic, somehow. :D

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