The Lies That Bind Us – Part Twelve: Sango’s Tears

Disclaimer: Pssht.

A/N: Ok. Sorry. But life is hectic right now. I don't have a Saturday to myself until next month, for crying out loud... -sulks for a while- Anyway, enjoy ze chapter!

A/N 2: CHASMS now has a message board! Get sneak peaks at the CHASMS authoresses' work (Aamalie is currently being... persuaded...) and chat about anime or random things. Join! Grr. It's found here (without the spaces, of course): ww w.s8 .invis ionfr ee.c om/ CHA SMS

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The silence was total, filling the car like a choking ether until Sango thought that she'd either suffocate or run from the car screaming. She ended up doing neither, instead focusing on holding the gun steady and trying to prevent her professionally inappropriate emotions from keeping her from the task at hand. The gun felt slick in her hand; whether because it wasn't her normal weapon or because she her palms were sweating slightly, she didn't know.

It was Miroku who finally broke the silence, his voice flat and without inflection. "You're with Naraku, I assume."

Sango opened her mouth, found that she was unable to produce anything worthwhile, and closed it once more. Not taking her eyes off of Miroku, she nodded briskly.

Much to Sango's surprise, he let out a derisive laugh, then slanted his eyes so that he could look at her. It was what she saw there that evoked the burning sensation behind her eyes, so strong that she had to look away. Set in his features was a look of acceptance. He knew that, in order to escape, he would have to injure, perhaps kill Sango, and that was something that he lacked the ability to do. "Miroku-" she murmured, cutting herself off before she shed her last bit of resolve. This had to be done. 'But...' The thought came unbidden. 'I'd rather see hatred in his eyes than this look. I want him to fight...'

Miroku continued as if Sango had never said a word. "Well, I knew that he would send someone after me eventually. I never suspected you, though. I suppose Inuyasha was right then." He tried another laugh, but what came out was more of a sigh.

Tears came now, but Sango's features were still set. She was determined not to show weakness, not to show Miroku that killing him wasn't really all that high up on her list of priorities. Speaking, however, was a different matter. She couldn't keep the evidence of her borderline devastation out of her voice. "M...Miroku... You know I don't want to... to do this, but t... terrorism... I can't..."

A look of genuine surprise crossed Miroku's face. "Terrorism? Is that what he's accusing me of? I thought he'd be a little more realistic about making stuff up if he wanted me dead."

And there it was. The defiant tone in his voice. That unmistakable twinkle in the eye that characterized Miroku - not Nakano, not a terrorist, not 'the taarget', but Miroku. That firm set of his jaw that told her that, no matter what, it he were to go down, he'd go down swinging.

Just that image of him was enough to initiate the collapse of her intentions. Her hand began to tremble and she pressed it more firmly against his temple to help steady it. "Miroku! Don't toy with me! Don't bluff! This is hard enough as it is!"

"Sango, if I wanted to bluff, I would tell you that you are the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen, that I would give anything to see you happy, and that there's an explanation for all of this. Really. I don't like lying, especially not to you - and I'm not lying now." Moving very slowly, he lifted the hand closest to Sango and settled it gently on her cheek. "Would you allow me to tell you the whole story before you make up your mind?"

Sango found that she had absolutely nothing to say for a long while. The trembling in her hand had gotten worse; now, it was a product of nerves and the strain of holding it up for so long without taking some sort of decisive action. Finally, she relaxed the muscles in her arm, allowing the arm that held the gun to lower. She clicked on the safety, placed it in the cup holder, and then checked her watch. "You have a little over half an hour before I have to call Naraku." She looked up and met his dimly hopeful violet eyes. In an almost unconscious motion, she lifted her hand and placed it over his own, still resting on her cheek. "Miroku... Get talking."

"It's a long story, Sango, and I'm not just saying that. It dates back to when my grandfather was alive. He was an honest man, nothing really remarkable about him. He was seventy-two and he was spry for his age; he took regular jogs early in the morning. On one of those jogs, he witnessed an argument in an alley. The street was deserted, so he trotted over, hoping to be of help." Miroku paused, staring out of the passenger side window. Sango said nothing, wondering what on earth Miroku's grandfather could possibly have to do with the present situation. Then again, she'd promised to let him explain himself...

He took a deep breath and went on. "It happened quickly: A gunshot rang out and a man ran from the alley and took off down the road. My grandfather got a good look at him, though, and was easily able to identify him as the murderer from a suspect line-up. The killer's name was Waru Onigumo."

Sango blinked. "A relative of Naraku?"

"His father," Miroku agreed. "Gramps refused to fade into the shadows and not testify since he was the only witness. Therefore, Onigumo got the death penalty and Naraku was left fatherless.

"Naraku was only about six then, but he was a little tyrant. Felonious behavior runs in the family, it would seem. I happen to think that he began to plan revenge since the day that his father was imprisoned. Nothing happened, however, until Naraku turned eighteen and grew into his present position as head of his branch of the FBI. One day that same year, my father and my grandfather went out to the store. I was supposed to be with them, but I wasn't feeling well that day. They never came back; they were run off the road by an insane driver and killed. It was my mother who told me about Naraku and advised me to go into hiding. She died soon after. I was only fourteen."

Sango was silent, doing her best not to look up at Miroku and try to gauge his truthfulness by his face. Finally, she said, "Where did you hide?"

He smiled. "That's information for a little later - if I'm not dead, that is." Sango cringed. "Now, if my suspicions are correct, Naraku doesn't want to get too closely involved with me, so he's making me out to be a terrorist so that he has an excuse to have me killed. He's framing me, Sango, and he's manipulating you." Now the he had finished relating his story, he sighed. "Well? I know that it's a lot to take in, but it's up to you whether you believe me or not. If you don't... I'll understand."

Emotions buzzed inside Sango's head like angry flies. It took a few moments of contemplation for her to realize the best course of action for her to take.

She reached for the gun in the cup holder.

Naraku was once more poised before his window, staring out but not seeing anything. Because of the light outside, a dim reflection was projecting back at him, allowing him to see a smirk spread across his face. Everything was in position. The last loose end was so very close to being tied up; after Nakano was dead, there would be no remnants of his vengeance. Everything would be as it should.

As he stood, he heard his door creak open, then shut. Naraku didn't react for a moment, then acknowledged the visitor by name. "Yes, Sesshoumaru?" Naraku knew that it couldn't have been anyone else; no other employees had the nerve to enter his office unannounced and unauthorized. Sesshoumaru seemed to have a problem with respecting authority. Probably because he considered himself to be the highest authority.

"Naraku, you are a fool."

"I believe we've covered that particular point in a previous conversation." Naraku finally turned from the window and took a seat at his desk. "Is there a specific occurrence that brought this declaration on?"

"As I recall, I didn't advise you to tell the Taijiya to kill Nakano. I suggested pulling her from the case altogether."

Naraku regarded his subordinate coldly. "Since when do you advise me?"

Sesshoumaru crossed the few steps to Naraku's desk and returned the chilled stare. "Ever since you began to let your personal vendettas cloud your judgment."

Naraku's eyes flickered, but that was all of the clue that Sesshoumaru needed. "I knew it. There is a reason that you want Nakano dead besides the information that you gave the Taijiya. What is it, Naraku? Did he catch you with your pants down?"

Naraku stood in a fluid movement, drawing himself up to his full height. He seemed to bristle with anger. "Get out of my damn office."

Sesshoumaru slid his hands into his pockets. "With pleasure." With a mocking inclination of his head, he stepped out and nudged the door closed with a shoulder. He paused in the hallway for a moment, looking back at the closed door, then advanced to the elevator.

'Naraku is hiding something,' he thought. 'Luckily, I know just how to find out what.'

Cramming her gun safely into her holster, Sango reached across the low partition between the seats and hugged Miroku tightly, burying her face into his shoulder. "Oh Miroku, I'm so sorry!" she half-said, half-gasped. She couldn't hold back her tears, unable to tell whether she was crying over what Miroku had been through or because of the realization that she'd almost made a very grave mistake that would have ruined both of their lives.

Miroku simply froze in shock. He obviously hadn't expected her to believe him. After his initial bewilderment wore off though, he returned the embrace.

"I always knew he was a Bastard," she sniffed, and Miroku laughed. Her eyes blurry with tears, Sango lifted her head and looked up at Miroku, who was too close, yet somehow not close enough.

A moment later, his mouth was on hers and her breath was stolen away. Miroku's lips were soft and Sango found herself nearly drowning in his scent, his warmth, his presence-

Almost as swiftly as it had began, the kiss ended, and for once, Sango didn't blush. "Ah... Miroku-"

"Shh..." Miroku whispered, putting a finger to her lips. A moment later, she realized the location of his other hand and shrieked.

"Ack! Pervert!" she howled, slapping him soundly and huffily moving to sit flush to her door.

While he rubbed his red, puffy cheek, she drew her cell phone out. "What should I do with this?" she mused. "Knowing Naraku, he'll have tracking sensors in these. There's no way I'm going back to HQ. If I don't complete the mission, my career's over anyway. Plus, there's no way I'm working for him any longer than necessary."

"I think you should call him," Miroku suggested. Noticing Sango's utterly scandalized look, he clarified, "Ask him for an extension on the deadline. That way, it'll be a longer time before he comes looking for us. We'd need the time to get away. Trash the phone afterward."

Sango blinked. "Good idea." She auto-dialed Naraku's number, and he picked up on the first ring.

"Something amiss, 'Jiya?"

"I was wondering if I could have some extra time to achieve the objective. It's kind of a huge step to go from simply arresting to killing, you know."

Naraku chuckled. "Surely you're not telling me that you can't handle it?"

"Of course not. But if I do something, I want to be able to do it right." Her heart was thudding in her throat. She was aware that she could give them away with a single mistake.

"Fine," Naraku acquiesced. "An extra hour. Check in then."

There was the click of a broken connection. Sango looked at the phone silently for a few moments, then tossed it out of the window. "Okay, Miroku, your move."

He started the car back up. "We're headed to our headquarters," was all of the information that he provided.

Roughly twenty minutes later, he parked in front of a very familiar building with two words printed above the door in cursive letters:

Chateau Chantre.

Yay. Done. -falls asleep from post-volleyball tournament tired-ness-

The Beta Special!

Onigumo: -runs away from murder scene-

Miroku!Gramps: -sticks out foot and trips him-

Onigumo: x.x

Miroku!Gramps: -pulls off mask, revealing... Michael Jackson! (Who then breaks into song and dance)-

Miroku: -pauses story- HEY! That's not right!!!

Sango: -failing to maintain professional attitude... in other words, laughing her butt off-

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Naraku: -staring unseeingly out of window- Yes, Sesshoumaru?

Sesshoumaru: Naraku, you are a fool.

Naraku: I believe we've covered that particular point in a previous conversation.

Sesshoumaru: As I recall, I didn't know that you relied on window reflections to try and maintain your all knowing evil bishounen factor. Fool.

Naraku: O.O! NO! How dare you?! You've betrayed my ultimate secret! -sobs-

Sesshoumaru: o.O I thought your ultimate secret was that you derived some weird sort of pleasure from trying to absorb people into you... Oh, wait. That's the canon setting. Never mind. Fool.