The Opposite of Attraction – Part Twelve: The Frustration

Author’s Note: I seriously recommend going back and refreshing yourself on the past chapters. It’s only been, uh, eight months since my last update. x.x Yeah, sorry about that. It’s been a long eight months, trust me. Drama and schoolwork and drama abounded. Anyway, details on that is what LJ is for. Here’s the long-awaited OA12. Enjoy.

-

It was sometime later that night that Miroku woke up and realized that they had never left the beach. It was slightly cool, as the fire had burnt itself to smoldering ash. The stars stretched into infinity overhead, the only sources of light in the sky since the moon had already set and sunrise was still a few hours away. Miroku could hear nothing but the ocean and his own breathing.

He laid there a moment longer, gathering up his thoughts and setting them in order. He remembered that after he and Sango had eaten, they had talked for a while, before he had decided to lie down and she had done the same beside him. Then they had stargazed for a bit, he recalled, and she had surprised him with a rather extensive knowledge of star names and which constellations were where. She’d told him she had once wanted to work for NASA.

Miroku smiled. ‘Sango…’

He shifted his gaze from the endless sky to the blanket beside him, expecting to see the woman that had so effortlessly managed to capture his every thought. She wasn’t there. Miroku blinked, then sat up and looked to his other side to see a tired looking cameraman, who grinned and gestured towards the surf. Miroku followed the cue and spotted what he easily recognized as Sango’s form, merely a silhouette in the darkness. A fond grin touching his mouth, he got to his feet and headed her way.

“Hey there,” he called out, once he was close enough to see her better. She had been walking in the water, it seemed. Her feet were bare, wet, and sandy, her sandals carried in her hand, and she looked happy to see him, judging by the small smile on her face. His eyes softened as he looked at her. The night’s beauty paled in comparison.

“Hey,” Sango responded, stopping where she was to look at him. He too stopped, slipping his hands into his pockets and just looking at her with a small grin and a raised eyebrow.

“Having fun?” he asked. Water from a wave rushed around her ankles and she kicked some his way.

“Don’t sound so superior. It feels nice,” she told him matter-of-factly, as though she was daring him to say something to contradict her. As much fun as he would find it to doing just that for the sole sake of teasing her, Miroku decided against it, for the moment at least.

“Mind if I join you then?” he asked lightly, bending down to remove his own shoes and setting them aside.

Sango was quiet for a few seconds as she stared at him thoughtfully. “No one’s stopping you,” she finally said, and his face broke into a soft smile, the kind she couldn’t stop herself from returning.

As Miroku took Sango’s hand in his, he couldn’t help but realize how beautiful a night it was.

But, he wondered, how long would the beauty last?

-

They arrived back at the mansion shortly before dawn, only to grab a quick granola bar snack, change, and fall back asleep—the water fight that they’d ended up getting into had not only gotten them wet, but it had also managed to tucker them out. It was well past noon when Sango woke up to the sounds of Miroku yawning next to her.

“What time is it?” she mumbled groggily, not yet willing to open her eyes. She heard him shift around, the bed creaking a little.

“Nearly a quarter after three,” he said through a yawn. “I suppose we should get up. You want the shower first?”

Sango groaned in disgust. “Ugh, no. I’m going to stay in bed a bit longer.” The mattress moved again as Miroku got up and began shuffling around.

“Okay. I’m going to go wash up then. I smell like saltwater…” There were a few more minutes of him moving around the room, selecting his clothing and other necessities before Sango heard the click of the bathroom door shutting. It was only then that her eyes finally flickered open, but she didn’t otherwise move. Instead, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of the shower running a room away.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her, or why she kept questioning things. Her dreams had been uneasy, though she couldn’t remember more than bits and pieces of them. Flashes that kept repeating Ayame’s warning of caution, wisps of moonlight on the ocean, and glimpses of Miroku’s smiling face that wasn’t quite smiling... That distant, vague uneasiness that was still too close for comfort led her to a state of mind where she couldn’t help but wonder…

What was she doing here? Here, a thousand miles from home and the comfortable security of everything familiar, and living with a man she barely knew. What was she hoping to gain by this trip? Sango honestly couldn’t say, not any more. Before, she had thought to broaden her horizons, or to prove she wasn’t the shy or aloof girl everyone thought and said she was. Now, all of those reasons seemed foolish, as though they had been made hastily, and without much thought for any possible consequences.

Consequences like Miroku. He was completely unlike any man she had ever met before. He was charming and lecherous, goofy and heartwarming, and a great many other things besides. His good looks, sweet words and sharp mind (never mind the kisses) were irresistible, and Sango knew she was falling for him. But something held her back.

Part of it was fear. Never before had anyone so completely swept her off her feet like Miroku had, and that alone made her want to fight to keep her bearings and retain her sanity. The other part was something else. Sango couldn’t help but feel that Miroku wasn’t all that he seemed to be. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, the idea that he was hiding something—something important—wouldn’t leave her alone.

Besides, it was thoroughly possible. She barely knew Miroku, as close as their circumstances had allowed them to become. She was being smart, rational, by not giving her trust to him so quickly.

But, Sango realized, she wanted to trust him anyway, even at the risk of finding that he wasn’t as trustworthy as she hoped in the long run.

And that scared her.

Before her thoughts could progress any farther, the door to the bathroom opened and Miroku stepped out, tying his hair back and bringing Sango back to the real world. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t even heard him shut off the shower, but Sango didn’t mind the distraction.

“Hey there, sunshine,” Miroku joked. “Ready to welcome the day?”

“Ignoring the fact it’s already half-gone?” Sango sat up and gave him a small smile, pushing her worries to the back of her mind. “Sure, why not?”

-

“A beach party?”

“You don’t sound too thrilled at the idea,” Miroku acknowledged, taking the last rinsed plate from Sango’s hand and stowing it in the dishwasher, then closed the machine a moment later. Sango chuckled once, shaking her head at him.

“What sign have I ever given,” she started, leaning her back against the counter, “that ever gave you the idea that I’m the sort to go to a beach party? Besides, we were at the beach last night, remember?”

“I think you’d enjoy it,” he told her, leaning next to her and running a hand through her hair softly. “I know it’s something you probably haven’t done before, but there’s a first for everything.”

“You just want to go goggle at all of the girls in their swim suits,” Sango said dryly, brushing his hand away from her hair, but he twined his fingers between hers smoothly.

“Don’t be silly,” he said matter-of-factly. “The only one worth goggling over on this island is standing right in front of me. Though I suppose if I were to ever get caught looking too much, I’d probably get the living daylights smacked out of me… but that’s another story entirely.” Miroku gave her a heart-warming smile, the sort that could make a girl’s breath catch in her throat because it was as if his entire world was focused on one thing—her. “Please, Sango? If it ends up being that bad, we’ll leave and do something else. Whatever you want.”

Sango could pinpoint the precise moment her willpower finally wavered—he was good at making her change her mind at the drop of a hat with just a look and a few soft words, the stupid jerk. She sighed, then nodded slowly. “Alright, Miroku. You win. I’ll go.”

He smirked. “And you’ll wear a sexy swimsuit?”

“…Don’t push your luck,” she warned darkly, causing Miroku to hold up his hands in an amused gesture of surrender, nearly forgetting to let go of hers as he did so. She didn’t laugh, though, instead pushing away from the counter and taking a few steps, only to stop and turn back around. She was almost anxious, and Miroku noticed, although her voice was as steady. “By the way, what time does this thing start?”

Miroku checked his watch; it was already half past five. “It started at five, actually. It’s supposed to be an all-night thing, so we can stay as long as we’d like and leave whenever we want.”

Sango nodded again. “Okay. I’ll go change, I guess, so that we can just leave when we decide to.” She hesitated again, and Miroku gently reached forward to touch her cheek lightly.

“Hey, is something wrong?” he inquired, his eyebrows drawing downwards. “You’re acting like there’s something on your mind.” She had been acting strangely distant the entire day, and it was beginning to worry him. He thought that maybe he had done something unintentional to make her upset the night before. She had asked him to refrain from being too close to her, and he’d promised to be considerate of her space.

Perhaps he’d been stupid somehow, and (in typical womanly fashion) Sango was going to make him try and figure it out by himself—which always seemed to end disastrously, no matter what he did when he tried. Then the thought entered his mind.

Maybe, maybe she knew, and if she did…! But, as soon as the words had left his mouth, she seemed to straighten, and her eyes met his levelly.

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a smile. “I’m just… starting to miss home a little. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s silly.”

Miroku mentally let out a huge sigh, one mostly of relief. He had already been trying to figure out how to get on Sango’s good side again. Considering that he wasn’t allowed to, well, use any of the (admittedly) manipulative tactics he typically resorted to in similar situations… He had expected it to become a challenge, and that was only if it had been the whole closeness issue.

Thank God it wasn’t the other thing, he thought darkly. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if I’m not the one who tells her, whether or not I... go through with it...

Yet, he couldn’t help but acknowledge that if she ever found out, she would never trust him again. Miroku was sure of it. And he wasn’t convinced that he could deal with the idea of Sango never again looking at him the way she had begun to, with the idea of her pushing him away with finality, with the idea that she’d hate him for the rest of her life.

He didn’t want to deal with that idea, so he put on a smile and focused on the issue at hand.

“Homesick, huh? Well, then, I suppose I’m going to have to find a way to distract you from the pits of such deep, dark thoughts. What do you say?” he suggested with a wink, stepping closer to her and pointedly neglecting to mention that he needed to distract himself as well. Sango shook her head, but he could tell she was holding back a bemused grin.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek before leaving the room and disappearing upstairs.

He watched her go.

‘Homesick, eh? Hmm…’

-

The sun was getting low by the time they left—nearly seven, by Miroku’s watch. The car ride was initially quiet. It wasn’t a particularly awkward silence, nor it was not the most comfortable they’d ever experienced, but neither of them had anything pressing to say. So they remained like that for a while, Sango silently looking out of her window, and Miroku watching Sango out of the corner of his eye in equal silence.

He didn’t really believe that she had told him the entire truth about what was on her mind. That is to say, he didn’t think she had lied outright; it was very likely she missed her family. As much as he was enjoying his time here in Hawaii, there was a part of him that was beginning to miss home as well. But Sango had been acting too differently for the past few days, ever since the whole lie-detector gig, to chalk it up to ‘just homesickness’.

Or maybe he was imagining things.

However, he reminded himself, if it did have anything to do with the polygraph test, that was his own fault. He could have lied. His ass would have been covered in any case. Or at least, so he hoped.

He wouldn’t put it past Kikyou to decide to stir up some drama.

He and Sango sighed in unison, and they looked at each other in surprise for a moment before bursting into sudden, slightly awkward laughter.

“We’re definitely in a very beach-party sort of mood, aren’t we?” Miroku chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Sango grinned softly, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

“I guess so.” She bit her lip, looking slightly embarrassed. “I guess I should apologize, huh? I haven’t been very good company these past few days, have I?” Miroku looked at her, his expression softening. He reached over, resting a hand on hers. The light touch caused her to meet his eyes, and Miroku held her gaze easily.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re all entitled to our low days. She lowered her eyes momentarily—almost shyly—and nodded. Gently, he squeezed her hand, causing her to glance upwards again. “Just move past it so that you can enjoy yourself and the time we’ve got left here, and if you need to talk about anything, you’re welcome to talk my ears off.”

She laughed at that, then turned her hand in his so that their fingers were interlocked. “We’ll see.”

“Will we?” Miroku asked, leaning closer. She was smiling at him warmly, much more warmly than he could ever remember her doing so before. It was hypnotizing. Half of her face was hidden in shadow, but her eyes, framed by long lashes, shone with something unspeakable, and her lips were curved upwards in such a way that he couldn’t help but be drawn to kiss her. He let his free hand come to linger on her cheek and then move upwards, drawing his fingers through her hair. It was amazing, how she kept her long locks so mysteriously free of any snags or tangles…

Sango sighed. “Miroku…”

“Hm?”

She sighed again, leaning her head into his palm. “You have that look on your face…”

“Which look?” he asked, still moving closer, so that when she laughed lightly, he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face.

“I don’t know. Like... you’re thinking about kissing me.”

Miroku leaned his forehead against hers. “Oh? What if I am? Will you get mad, or maybe smack me again?” Sango blinked, narrowing her eyes at him slowly. After a moment, she closed them and shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Miroku said, and finally closed the short distance between them. It was a thrill—he’d forgotten just how much he’d enjoyed kissing Sango. It was perfection, with her, the way every touch seemed sweet and every moment seemed precious. And, at the same time, it was addicting, affecting him more deeply than anything he could have ever imagined possible.

It lasted only a moment, before Sango pulled away with a dark blush staining her cheeks, as always, leaving Miroku slightly disoriented. “I think the car has stopped,” she told him.

“Curse my luck,” Miroku muttered. Sango shook her head at him as the driver opened the door, and she got out of the limo. Still cursing his luck, he followed and joined her out in the brisk ocean air. From where they had parked, they could see and hear the entirety of the beach party. There were people everywhere—at least two hundred, mostly gathered near the various bonfires that had been lit. Music pounded through the air, and many were dancing, while others messed around in the water. In other words, it was exactly what Miroku had expected it to be. He glanced over at Sango, curious as to what she thought, and couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the look on her face.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Miroku chuckled, leaning over and wrapping and arm around her waist. “You look like you’re somewhere between disbelief and disgust.”

She poked him in the side. “I can’t help it. Look at the way some of those people are dancing. It looks more like they’re trying to do something else than it does actual dancing, to be honest.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose that’s just the way some people prefer to enjoy themselves?”

Sango was quiet for a moment as she scrutinized him. “Don’t tell me,” she said, her voice somewhat flat. “That’s the way you enjoy dancing. You’re probably the type of guy who goes clubbing every weekend and usually ends up dancing like that with two or three girls rubbing themselves on you. Am I right?”

Miroku grinned cheerily. “I’d much rather waltz a night away with you and you alone, Sango,” he answered evasively.

“You’re a pervert,” she responded dryly.

“Nah,” he told her. “Perverted would be asking you if you wanted to learn how to dance like that.” He gestured towards a couple in the crowd. Miroku paused. “Wait. Do you?”

Sango elbowed him in the side. Hard.

“Ouch! Okay, okay. Point taken,” Miroku said hurriedly. He offered her a smile that looked more like a wince. “Dancing’s out then. What else shall we do, then?” Sango didn’t answer immediately, but he could tell, even in the half-light, that she was blushing for some reason.

“I… I never said we couldn’t dance or anything. Just… not like that.”

“Ah, of course,” he said knowledgeably, a mischievous look on his face as he took Sango’s hand and stepped closer to her. “Shall we waltz then? Or maybe try the foxtrot? Then we could try the swing. No? Maybe square dancing then?”

“Haha,” Sango said, her tone dry, but it was clear that she was amused by his antics.

“I guess not.” He acquired a look of intense concentration, as though he was searching his memory for the names of any other well-known dance that Sango might know. “Well, there’s the salsa, and after that, the meringue. And, speaking of the Latin dances, have you ever tangoed?” Miroku winked, lifting their hands and spinning Sango around before drawing her close. “I hear that that one is quite fun, especially the horizontal version.”

“You’re a pervert,” Sango admonished, twirling out of his grasp with ease. “Do you ever not think about sex?”

“On occasion,” he joked. “Come on, let’s join the masses.” Sango sighed, and caught up with him as he headed down towards the beach. She gave him a piercing look.

“Why do I put up with you?” she asked, her tone almost mournful.

“Because,” Miroku stated, “I’m simply irresistible.”

“Right. Try, ‘simply full of yourself.’”

“Nah, the other one is catchier. Plus, it has its own song!”

“Why me?” Sango wondered aloud, before Miroku pulled her cheerfully in the dancing crowd. They spent the next hour and a half or so moving to the rhythm of a few songs, Miroku getting pinched every time Sango thought he was being too suggestive, and then messing around in the water for a while. Both came out very damp from the encounter, and Miroku silently wished Sango had chosen a white shirt, rather than a black one. Afterwards, they retreated towards an outcropping of rock that sat a few yards from the festivities. It was the perfect place to sit and catch their breath, as several other groups and couples had already discovered, and Sango found a rock big enough for the both of them, not to mention with enough maneuvering room the ever-lingering cameramen, while Miroku went and found some drinks.

“A water for the pretty lady?” he asked, offering her the clear bottle when he returned. Sango accepted it with good humor.

“What? No booze? Why, Miroku! I’m surprised at you,” she teased, twisting off the cap and taking a sip of her water. Her companion merely chuckled, leaning back and using both arms to support himself on the rock.

“Well, you know. I thought I’d like to keep you sober tonight. How’s this—I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. We’ll get hammered and do a whole bunch of stupid things we’d never normally do in our right minds. Sound like fun?”

Sango shook her head, laughing. “Oh, plenty. And just imagine the wonderful hangovers we’d end up with the next morning. I can’t wait!”

“Ah-ha! See, that’s the spirit!” Miroku laughed, and Sango rolled her eyes, reaching over and tapping him on the nose with a forefinger playfully.

“Uh-huh,” she said, smirking. “Only in your wildest dreams.” With that, she slipped off of her perching, stretching a little. “Anyway, I think I’m going to go find a restroom. I’ll be back soon, so behave yourself.”

Miroku raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk with you?”

She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it,” Sango said, and gestured towards the cameraman that had gotten up to follow her. “I’ll be fine; I’ve got my own personal bodyguard.”

“Alright. Don’t fall in.”

She gave him a sardonic look and a wave before trudging back towards the party through the sand. Miroku sighed and leaned back, deciding to relax until she got back. He’d decided before coming that for tonight, at least, he wouldn’t let any more of the disturbing thoughts that had been roiling around bother him. So he just sat there calmly and undisturbed until two new arrivals interrupted his peace. He observed two young women; one of them looked liked she was mostly Hawaiian while the other looked like she might have been half-Japanese. Both were fairly pretty and done up for the event, and both were obviously tipsy, if not drunk. They both chose a rock a few feet away to sit down on, and he noticed when the islander glanced at him, then away. They both giggled, and a small bell of warning went off in the back of his mind.

It was something that happened all too frequently. There was always a girl—or girls—who showed up and cause Miroku to slip into his charming mode. Normally, he enjoyed flirting, but tonight he reminded himself that now was hardly the time to fall into that habit. Knowing Sango, if she came back and saw him flirting around, he knew how she would react. She was the sort of girl who lived by the code of ‘slap now, ask questions once he’s cornered me into a conversation.’ He didn’t want to go there and have to earn back Sango’s trust again.

“Um, excuse me?”

Apparently, he didn’t have a choice. Well, maybe Sango wouldn’t jump to conclusions. After all, the night had gone so well thus far. So long as he was careful…

“Can I help you, ladies?” Miroku asked, smiling at the two girls. They both tittered and blushed.

“We were just wondering,” began the Hawaiian girl, “what’s with the camera? Are you a news reporter or filming some sort of documentary…?”

“If you are,” the other added with a giggle before Miroku could respond, “feel free to include me in any one-on-one interviews you might need!” They both erupted into laughter.

“I’m neither, actually,” Miroku said smoothly. “I’m actually on a reality show.”

“Oh! We love reality television!”

“Uh-huh,” said the Asian. “Maybe we can go and get some beers, and you can tell us all about this show you’re on. What do you say?”

Miroku laughed. It was high time to get out of this…

“Well, ladies, I’d love to, but can’t,” he told them, feigning disappointment. “I’ve got obligations elsewhere tonight.” However, that didn’t seem to deter them, as the pretty Hawaiian slipped onto the rock beside him where Sango had sat only minutes before, placing her hand above his knee flirtatiously.

“Who cares about obligations? Play a little hooky with us. It’d be… fun,” she told him, batting her eyelashes.

Miroku coughed to hide his surprise. These women were certainly more forward than he’d expected. ‘If only Sango was quite so bold,’ he thought ruefully. Miroku cursed his luck. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” he told them. “I’m waiting for someone. My date, actually.” He took the girl’s hand and set it aside firmly. “I think that it’s best you both go now.”

They both looked taken aback. “Well,” said one, “fine. But you’ll regret it later.” Her companion voiced her agreement and they both went off in a huff, probably in search of another victim.

Miroku breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.

“So,” said a cold voice, interrupting his moment of peace. “Who were they?” Miroku turned his head to see Sango there, arms crossed and a frosty look on her face. He couldn’t help but sigh again.

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

Sango didn’t look convinced. “Oh really? Don’t tell me that you forgot to get their names and numbers?” she asked scathingly. “What about their addresses, emails, and breast sizes? Don’t tell me you forgot those too?”

Miroku quickly rose to his feet. “Sango, please, nothing happened, alright? Don’t…” he trailed off, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say. They were both quiet for a long moment, the only sound coming from the crowded party nearby.

“Don’t what?” Sango finally asked, her voice softer now, belying the hurt in her eyes. “Overreact?”

“Sango…”

She shook her head. “Please, just stop. I don’t understand, Miroku. Why is it that every time I start trusting you a little more, you have to go and screw it up like this?”

A part of him wanted to argue that it hadn’t been his fault this time, but then, another part couldn’t help but agree.

Why did he keep messing up with Sango?

He looked away. “I don’t know… But I do know I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She sighed his name, and he stepped closer to her. Sango raised her hand, motioning for him to stop. She almost looked ready to cry. “I don’t like this, Miroku,” she said, her voice still low and sad. “I don’t like how I’m always wondering what you’re doing behind my back, or what your motives are. But the fact is… I don’t think I can. At least, not now. I hardly even know you…” Sango wasn’t quite sure why she was telling him this, but it felt good to finally be honest, to finally be straightforward about what she was feeling.

“I understand,” Miroku said, no trace of anger in his voice, because he really did get it for once. “Believe me, though. I didn’t do anything you would disapprove of with those girls. I came here to spend my night with you, not them, and I hope you know that.”

She let out a long, shaky breath and nodded. “I… I believe you. Even so… I think that it’s best that you find your own way back to the mansion. I… We can talk more there. But for now…”

“Okay,” Miroku said. “I’ll see you there.”

She looked at him. “Okay.”

And then, Sango turned and walked away, fading into the crowd.

Miroku dragged a hand across his face, suddenly feeling very tired. Couldn’t he do anything right?