The Opposite Of Attraction – Part Nine: The Outing

Aamalie: Hey! Look who’s back! Mom’s finally back off of vacation, so I should have more time to write from now on… So long as I don’t run into anymore chapters that I go blank on. Then again, I knew from chapter one that I was going to have issues with this chapter, so whatever.

And as for the primary reason I’m posting this:

CONGRATS ON GRADUATING, CORISU-CHAN! Just remember, even if you will be going to college soon, you are so not off of the hook. Mir/San is a way of life, m’dear. Always remember that. (heart)

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. Bah…

(-)

“Are you ready yet?” Sango asked, poking her head into their mutual bedroom. Miroku glanced over his shoulder as he finished buttoning up his shirt, which happened to be a light blue-gray tone that complemented his eyes nicely. Those same eyes trailed over Sango’s with bemusement.

“Why? Are you in a hurry?” he countered, turning around fully to face her. When he saw Sango standing in the doorway, hands planted on her hips as though she were about to scold him for not being ready to go ten minutes ago, a smile stole its way onto Miroku’s face. While on other girls, her no-nonsense attitude would be trying, if not aggravating, with Sango it was like an endearing little quirk. It was something that he could grow fond of.

‘Focus, Miroku. Focus.’

Sango sighed, moving her arms so that they were loosely crossed and her face easing slightly. “A little bit,” she admitted. “After all, we’ve been cooped up in this house for a while now. I think it’d be nice to get out and be somewhere else.”

“What? But, Sango,” Miroku said, feigning shock, “don’t tell me you’ve grown tired of me already!”

“I said no such thing,” Sango replied, still smiling in spite of his antic. “So, stop the drama.”

“Drama? Never.” With all due seriousness, he strode forward to look her in the eye. She blinked back up at him, plainly curious as to what he was up to. “Besides, with that attitude, dear Sango, I’m disinclined to believe you.”

As expected, she hardly bought it, though the shadow of a blush emerged on her cheeks when he leaned closer. She played ignorance of its appearance well enough though. Hm. Well, disbelieve all you want then. I’ll be downstairs waiting.” Intending to do just that, she turned to go back out the door. But before she had a chance to actually leave, Miroku decided he didn’t want her to go quite yet. After all, he’d hardly gotten a chance to really get under her skin yet.

Seconds later, Miroku had caught Sango by linking his arms around her stomach, preventing her from escaping. He smirked, maneuvering so that his mouth was near her ear. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

There was a heavy pause, and Miroku found himself wondering what she was thinking. Usually, she would have reacted by now, right? He couldn’t possibly be losing his touch! But, from the angle he was at, it almost looked like Sango was frowning—not that he could see much of her face. By the time he remedied that, loosening his hold on her and moving to get a better look, she had turned her head towards him anyway. No frown.

“I just told you, Miroku.”

He shrugged. “I have selective hearing.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she warned.

“What if it’s worth it?”

“It’s not.” Given the blush that suddenly reddened her cheeks, as well as the short glance she sent towards the cameramen filming them, Miroku drew his own conclusions as to what that could mean. Especially after yesterday, and their little rendezvous (of sorts) in the spa. Certainly, Sango wasn’t stupid, and she knew that she had leverage over him with their little agreement.

More leverage than she knew.

So, Miroku decided to play it safe. He wanted to stay on her good side, after all. If she were to get mad at him, and block him out… It wouldn’t be good. He placed a quick kiss on the apple of Sango’s cheek and smiled at her.

“Meet you downstairs then.”

(-)

“People are staring.”

Miroku had lived up to his word, joining Sango in the limousine less than five minutes after she’d departed from the bedroom. The trip itself hadn’t taken long at all either, and the two soon found themselves in a very tourist-oriented town. Souvenir shops were everywhere, as were restaurants of all varieties. And, as Sango had said, people were staring at them. A lot of people.

“Of course they’re staring,” Miroku reasoned. “After all, we are being tailed and filmed by men with cameras, and they’re not exactly camcorders.”

Sango wasn’t convinced. “So? This is Hawaii. How many reality shows have been filmed here? This is practically the reality capital. They should be over it by now, right?”

He smiled patiently. “Maybe they’re just tourists.”

“I guess that would make us the newest attraction in the sight-seeing brochures.”

“Possibly.”

Hm.” She didn’t speak again until after they had maneuvered through a crowd of people waiting for an open table at an outdoors bistro, a feat that drew the gazes of even more curious bystanders. “Any chance they recognize us?”

“How would they?” Miroku asked, only half-attentive to the conversation as they continued down the sidewalk. The other fraction of his attention was trained on the signs hanging above the many businesses on the street. What he was looking for exactly, Sango wasn’t sure.

“Well,” she said, keeping pace with him, “we are on TV, aren’t we?”

“Not yet, no. Anything you’re hungry for in particular?”

The question didn’t even register to his companion. “What do you mean, ‘not yet’?”

“I mean it hasn’t premiered yet,” he said, sparing a glance towards her.

“When will it premiere then?”

“After we leave. Now, you never answered my question about lunch.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sango said, her mind not even on the subject of food. Something was nagging at her thoughts, and it had been for a while now. So, after a moment’s deliberation, she decided to end the nagging once and for all and asked it. “How do you know about that?”

His step faltered slightly, and only for a second. Long enough for Sango to notice.

“Know about what?”

“Well, so much about the show,” she said, watching Miroku from the corner of her eye. Maybe she was being paranoid, or assumptive, or she was just out of her mind, but it felt like there was more to Miroku than what was obvious. Yet, his expression didn’t even flicker when she continued. “You know things that I don’t remember being told about when they chose me to come here, and I just wonder why.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Miroku looked at her, his expression warm. At that moment, he looked nothing short of the sort of man every young woman dreams of meeting. Cheerful. Kind. Trustworthy. He reached over, taking her hand in his. “I guess I just asked my own questions when I had the interview. Look before you leap, right?”

Sango felt her cheeks warm as she nodded, but maybe it was just the sun. Of course he had asked questions about how the show would be run. While she had decided to come here for the spontaneity of it, Miroku had probably acted much less impulsively. He wouldn’t have taken the time to think it through. Assuming that there was some sort of hidden motive behind him was just… silly of her. Right?

Miroku?”

“Hmm?”

“You wouldn’t hide anything important about being here from me, would you?”

His eyes met hers again, and she could see a note of surprise there, but the look changed. Softened. Deepened into something she couldn’t read. His fingers tightened around hers.

“Not if I could help it.”

Reassured, Sango walked a little closer to Miroku.

(-)

After a quick lunch from Subway, the couple (with cameramen in tow) spent a good portion of the afternoon strolling around. A good number of tourist-targeted stores were visited, and a good amount of money wasted on tourist goodies—plus sunscreen, which both had forgotten to apply before leaving the mansion. (That, of course, led to Miroku offering to ‘help’ Sango rub the lotion in with so many implicative words, which in turn led to him getting smacked. Go figure.) They also found their way to an arcade at one point, and there discovered that their DDR skills were severely lacking.

After wasting a good twenty dollars on the aforementioned game with little to no improvements on their scores, Sango collapsed onto the floor next to the dance pad with a breathless laugh. “All right,” she gasped. “I give up. Getting anything higher than a D is impossible in this game.”

Miroku smirked, crouching down beside her. “In other words, you forfeit?”

“Never,” Sango assured him. “I just figured we should give those who have been waiting for us to finish a chance to play.”

Glancing backwards at the two girls who had stepped up to the game as soon as they had stepped off, Miroku chuckled. “Fair enough.” He stood back up before reaching down to help Sango back to her own feet as well. As they made their way out of the arcade, Miroku checked his watch. “It’s past seven already. Want to head back?”

Sango raised an eyebrow his way, lips quirking as she did so. “Already? I’m surprised, Miroku. I thought for sure you were the sort of guy to keep a girl out all night, far past her curfew.”

“Sometimes,” Miroku admitted, moving closer so that he could slip his arm around her waist. He leaned closer so that he could murmur into her ear, telling her, “But, you know… I like having an early curfew of my own…”

Giving him a warning nudge in the abdomen, Sango told him to behave. “Anyway, after all of that jumping around, I’m sort of hungry again.”

Miroku snapped his fingers. “Great! I know the perfect place!”

Miroku…” Sango sighed. “I don’t think the place we passed with the live hula performances would be the best idea.”

He seemed to deflate. “Why not?”

“Because of the same reason you need to move your hand off of my butt.”

Er… It slipped?”

She smacked him anyway.

(-)

Dinner was a simple enough affair, especially after the hostess of the restaurant Sango had picked noted their tagalong camera and promptly led them to a table where a sign displaying the business’s name was clearly visible in the background. Apparently, she was smart enough to recognize free advertising when she saw it. Whether or not the show’s editors would edit out the sign was another matter. She didn’t seem to mind though, and the waiter was quick to take their order and return with their beverages.

Miroku quirked an eyebrow as Sango dropped a straw into her drink, ignorant of his scrutiny until his voiced his thoughts. “Lemonade? With pasta?”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked, brushing her bangs from her eyes and mildly noting they needed a trim.

He shook his head. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to eat Italian food with wine?”

“No,” Sango replied, giving him a bemused look. “Why? You want to try and get me drunk?”

Miroku backpedaled.

“Of course not!” he exclaimed, the exuberance of his tone indicating that it had at least crossed his mind, even though he was denying it. “It was just… a question.” He paused. “Have you even ever had wine?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Sango admitted, not the least ashamed. “In fact, I’ve pretty much avoided all sorts of alcohol.”

“Why?” Miroku asked, honestly curious. Most girls Sango’s aged had at least tried drinking, and had probably gotten drunk at least once; if not during a high school or college party, then on their 21st birthday. He knew. He had seen it happen with his own eyes, and a lot more than once at that. But Sango She really was his opposite, wasn’t she?

She lifted her shoulders into a brief shrug. “I suppose the fact that consuming alcohol shuts off your brain was something of a deterrent. I’d rather have my inhibitions and common sense than drink them all away.”

“Well, better reason than most. Regardless, it’s essential you learn to drink wine.” He pushed his own glass towards her. “Try it.”

“I like lemonade.”

“You elbowed me how many times today? Come on, Sango. It’s not like we have to worry about driving home or anything.” Miroku leaned closer to her, eyes sparkling daringly. “Live a little.”

“I may not have to worry about getting home, but I do have to worry about being alone in the same bed as you,” Sango countered.

“I have more self-control than you think.”

“Even with alcohol in your system?”

Sango,” he sighed, “you’re just trying to make excuses now. Do you really not trust me that much?”

She flushed. “Oh, all right.”

Taking a breath, she set aside her lemonade, picked up the wineglass and took a deep sip.

Bad idea.

She choked, almost spilling the drink as she set it back down to clap her hand to her mouth. “Oh God!” she gasped between coughs. “That was disgusting!”

Miroku was busy choking too. On his own laughter.

It didn’t shut him up at all when Sango managed to crumple up a paper napkin and pegged him in the forehead with it either. It just made it worse, until she caught her breath and delivered a kick to his shin. “Not funny,” she informed him, before taking a long draw from the straw in her lemonade glass.

Oww… And yes, it was. There’s a reason most people don’t chug wine. That’s not how you’re supposed to drink it at all, Sango.”

She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, clearly annoyed. “Oh? Then, how am I supposed to do it?”

“I’ll demonstrate,” Miroku told her, picking up the glass. “You have to breathe in the scent first, to get your senses adjusted to the taste.” He acted out his instructions to further his point.

A corner of Sango’s mouth twitched upwards. “So, your sense of smell now doubles as your sense of taste?”

“Work with me, please?” Miroku sighed.

“All right, continue.”

“Gladly. Now, when you take a sip, it has to be just that. A sip. Not a gulp, or you’ll go into another coughing fit. Don’t swallow it the moment it passes through your lips either, but relish it, like you would a piece of your favorite candy. You have to take it in moderation to enjoy it.” He set the glass back down in front of her. “Your turn.”

A bit warily, Sango took the drink, and feeling a bit foolish, mimicked Miroku’s earlier actions.

“So?”

Genuinely surprised, Sango smiled and dared another sip. “Not bad. You may just know what you’re talking about, Miroku.”

They shared a smile.

(-)

By the time the couple returned to the mansion, it was nearly midnight. At some point during the ride, Sango had decided she was sleepy, and had rested her head comfortably against Miroku’s shoulder. Not that he minded in the least, of course. She didn’t have to be awake to help him occupy his thoughts.

As a matter of fact, it seemed that she was occupying quite a few of his thoughts herself lately.

And he wasn’t sure what to think about that. Especially under the circumstances…

Fortunately, he didn’t have to muse over what to do about that, because that was when the limo pulled into the driveway.

It was better not to think of it anyway.

“Hey, Sango, wake up,” he murmured, touching her shoulder lightly. She didn’t stir. Miroku frowned. How to wake her up? He could just carry her, but their bedroom was upstairs. He doubted it would be a good thing if she were to wake up then, while he was climbing those stairs with her in his arms.

He thought.

And thought.

And then he thought some more.

Finally, an idea formed in his mind.

‘It’ll be worth it…’

He groped her. Indulgently.

She slapped him before she’d even reached full consciousness.

Miroku smiled brightly at her, even as he rubbed his reddening cheek. “We’re home!”

Sango glared. Menacingly. Enough so to make Miroku wince. “You…”

“I didn’t know how else to wake you up?

“Whatever,” Sango said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. “Let’s just go on in. And don’t do that again.”

He gave her a salute, which brought a small smile to her lips, before climbing out of the limo and assisting Sango out as well. Once they were inside, she paused, saying, “I need a drink, I’ll be right up.”

“Okay.” Miroku started for the steps, sleep on the brain, until another idea popped up. “Wait, Sango. There’s one thing.”

Hm?”

Grinning, he smoothly closed the distance between them so that he could place a soft kiss on her lips that couldn’t exactly be described as brief, although that had been his original intention. He couldn’t help it—he’d only shared a kiss with her twice before, and he was addicted.

Even though he shouldn’t have been.

That was what made him come back to himself and gently break the kiss, leaving Sango flushed and a little bit startled.

“What was that for?”

He smiled, placing another kiss on her forehead. “Just because. I’m going to go to bed myself now. See you in a few minutes.”

She nodded, and he headed back up for the stairs.

The only thing was, she didn’t appear up there, even after a good fifteen minutes of mental berating while waiting for her to arrive before going to sleep. It was amazing how quickly concern could make those admonishments lose all importance, but it happened anyway, and Miroku stole back downstairs to see what Sango was up to.

He found her back asleep on the couch, with her shoes still on and her hair still up and a half-full glass of water on the coffee table, and he couldn’t help but smile. Pulling a throw blanket off of the back of the couch, he quietly draped it over her and pulled off her shoes, setting them on the floor. Murmuring a goodnight in her ear and placing a kiss on her cheek, Miroku turned off the light and headed back for the bedroom.

He needed to think. Badly.

What was this?

(-)

Aamalie: Uh… Just a crapload of foreshadowing. Blah. I’m abusing it mercilessly in this fic, aren’t I? And I won’t even get started on the way I’m butchering the characters. :)

(-)

Starzki- Pull one off? Geez. Now I know what’s on your mind, missy.

Siren of Erised-v.v Stop telling me stuff is cliché when it’s not! I’m paranoid of that, darn it! T.T Almost as badly as I’m paranoid of bad characterization…

Sango0808- Well, I’m glad I haven’t ruined it yet. But, as a warning, there will be a twist later on, but I don’t think it’ll ruin the story much. At least, I hope not, considering everything of substance in this story happens after the fact.

WindWitch- I’ve read Call Me Tomorrow, though not some of the more recent updates. Maybe you’ll be happy to know that I have an idea for a S/Kagu fic in the making though?

Fantasical Queen Ebony Black- Emotional drama is heart. ;D

Iggy- No, she just whispered his name. The whole acting thing just ties in with the agreement they made—they’re ‘pretending’ that their relationship is closer than it should be at this point, and by introducing pretend-intimacy they’re actually starting to fall for each other. That’s the idea behind it, at least.

Spam-chan- Ooh, meet the parents? That’d be so fun to do, only it wouldn’t fit in with my plans for this story. Bahhh

(-)

I know it’s been a while… XD But review anyway? Even if it is just to yell at me for not being able to write when my mom is loitering around my room all of the time… v.v;

 

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1