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A Cold Winter
-February-
Pensive I looked out the shouji and watched the snow begin drifting down from puffy clouds above. It was snowing on that night too.
Taken by a memory I stared down at the babe in my lap, his eyes lidded heavily as he suckled his thumb. At his mother’s distracted gaze he turned blue eyes up quizzically. I smiled some and combed my fingertips over his ruffled hair. He cooed and nudged closer to my touch, a pleasant shade of pink tinting his cheeks.
Somewhere emitted a loud and high pitched yawn. I glanced over in time to see Sai struggle with consciousness, the kendama toy she was playing with still in hand. Eyes already closed she tried swinging the toy again, but the ball did little more than wiggle on its string. Having seen the girl begin to wobble off balance Kagome plucked the kendama from her grasp and scooped her up. She laid her beside her already sleeping sibling on a blanket near the fire and tucked her in as much as the cloth would allow.
When she finished, I spoke with the miko in a hushed tone,
“Kaede-sama will worry with you gone so late. You should get some sleep.”
“I’m fine,” she defended, standing the close the shouji from the frigid night air. She still wasn’t accustomed to the cold winters of this world. Rubbing her hands together soundly she retreated to the fireside, wiggling her fingers near the blaze.
“Besides. I’m much happier here with you tonight, making sure you get your rest. Hah …”
Her smile thinned to an awkward line when I didn’t respond. It resurfaced, however, as her gaze fell back to the fireplace,
“I’m sure they have a pretty good reason, you know …”
“Un,” I sounded, albeit doubtfully.
Miroku and InuYasha were two days behind schedule. It wasn’t a rare event, and I wouldn’t mind if it hadn’t been happening more and more frequently as of late. But that’s not what stung me tonight.
Maybe it was how urgently I asked the monk to be back in time. And the failure of that promise.
My heart, against its better nature, treated the situation as treason. Miroku was probably at this moment helping himself to a third cup of sake, pretty little tea house maidens prancing about him to keep the night warm.
Did he realize how cold it felt to me?
Did he realize that …
“Sango-chan.”
I stiffened as the thought was broken by dainty arms hugging my shoulders. Kagome squeezed me affectionately for a short moment before drawing away. Smiling sympathetically she wiped her sleeve across the corner of my eye, collecting the moisture I hadn’t known escaped.
“I’m your friend. Talk to me. I won’t sit here silently when there’s obviously something bothering you.”
I hesitated, reluctant to express the introverted anxiety I so often felt alone. I turned my head down to avoid her eyes, hoping tears would not drip onto the sleeping infant in my lap. After a short pause I confided with a shaky sigh,
“Houshi-sama and I … Today was our anniversary.”
“Sango-chan,” Kagome breathed, blatantly surprised. She glanced around the room a few times, as if Miroku would suddenly emerge with pleasant words and sweet gifts.
“You two were married on Valentine’s Day?”
A silent quirked expression on my part was enough to get her to elaborate.
“Ahhh gomen ne. It’s a western thing. February 14th is a day where couples boldly announce their love through chocolate and cliché Hallmark cards and stuffed bears. Though it’s mostly a commercialist scam that everyone somehow agrees to, lest their spouses kick them to the curb. I personally don’t care for it, but – but I’m getting off topic!”
I was still blinking over the concept that stuffed animal carcasses emblemized affection when she clasped my hands. There was an air of determination when she held my gaze, giving my hands a firm squeeze,
“Sango-chan. I know he’d be here in time. Something must have delayed them.”
I stared back at her for a fleeting moment, before closing my eyes and delicately setting my son down. Again I opened the shouji. A few snowflakes scattered in as I leaned my side against the doorframe, captivated by the large and lonely moon.
“Maybe,” was the only breath of an answer I wished to muster.
“It’s not as if he’s done anything to misguide your trust in him … Or has he?” Despite not seeing her I could hear an anger bubbling up in Kagome’s tone. An image of Miroku pinned by his robes to a tree with a few dozen arrows briefly flicked past my eyes. While comical, it went without its laugh.
“I don’t know.”
My voice trailed off, arms coming to wrap themselves around my middle. I let the silence coax out my thoughts, finally releasing them into the dark night before me,
“You no doubt feel lonely too, Kagome-chan, when InuYasha leaves on these missions. I have had to endure it for years now, without the pleasure of company aside my little ones. The lonesomeness is … tolling. More so than I ever care to admit. “
The air was still again, allowing me time to breath a sniffled laugh, however devoid of amusement it was,
“When Miroku’s gone like this. Two, maybe three weeks at a time … I sometimes wonder if he’s left us for good. Either through death or the arms of another woman.”
“Sango-chan … You know that isn’t true,” came the hushed response.
“I know,” I admitted in defeat. It did not cease the visions floating around my head – the suspicion that my husband was spending our anniversary with someone else. Drawing in a deep breath, I set fire to the mental image.
“It may not be true … but it may as well be.”
With that I felt a rude tug on my shoulder, forced around to meet the younger girl’s gaze. It’s alarming. I’ve never seen them this fierce outside the battlefield.
“Sango-chan. You listen and you listen closely. Miroku loves you. I see it every time he looks at you. What the two of you have is a blessing I barely see in either world. So why are you so bent on thinking up reasons to be miserable?”
A tear lingered on my cheek, one that neither of us bothered to conceal.
“You have a beautiful family. And you love each other … Isn’t that enough?”
‘It’s not.’
Eyes watering, I blinked the tears back and nodded. My optimistic friend would be spared the tragedy of our union; the reality that Miroku and I only had a good fifteen more years to live, and time greedily began consuming them. This was what we had to look forward to. Immeasurable separation until Death takes it upon himself to divide us permanently.
“You’re right,” I answered, ignoring the sickly twist of my heart. “I suppose I’m just being selfish.”
“About?”
We both gasped audibly, pushing away from the open door at the intruding voice. Golden eyes, brighter than anything else in the dark, stared at us from the other side of the yard. With a sprung leap InuYasha landed before us on the engawa, heavier against the floorboards than usual. It was undoubtedly due to the large purple and black lump of cloth flung over his shoulder. My husband.
“Houshi-sama …”
All thought draining from my mind, I rushed over and helped InuYasha pull the man off his back. I stumbled a little, realizing he was unconscious, and the hanyou growled at my clumsiness before taking the bulk of Miroku’s weight again. We dragged him over to the center of the room, laying him down beside the fire. I swatted away clumps of snow that hung to his clothing, feeling it a brief moment before pulling my hands up to either side of his flushed face,
“He’s drenched … and burning up.”
“I told the idiot that we should wait out the storm. He caught a nasty cold the other day and’s been bedridden since. I tried to get him to calm down but the damn b*****d threatened my life if I didn’t bring ‘em home today.”
InuYasha huffed at the wind, walking onto the engawa to shake snow out of his mane much like a dog.
“Keh. Don’t baby him, Sango. He’s sick and it’s his own damn fault for rushing home.”
“InuYasha …”
The hanyou’s ears flattened to the sides of his head at Kagome’s calm and cautious voice. He looked over his shoulder to see what he’d done, and grimaced at his own coarseness. Kagome stood halfway between us, watching tears freely roll down my cheeks as I stared at my husband. She then whipped her head in his direction, and InuYasha swallowed the lump in his throat.
“I – uh … Sorry. He’s an idiot. But I’m sure he’s got his reasons.”
“Thank you, InuYasha,” I managed, not bothering to look up at them. “You two should go home. I’ll handle it from here.”
Before awaiting a response my hands slipped beneath the part of his koromo, peeling it back and revealing cold, pale flesh to the firelight. His robes were soaked to the core.
Kagome wavered, then nodded. “Well … if you need any help don’t be a stranger. Tomorrow I’ll have InuYasha run around and make Miroku-sama his secret potion so he’ll get better quicker. Ne?”
The hanyou nodded as well, grunting his affirmation. I smiled some at their kindness and thanked them again.
They quietly saw themselves out the door.
-*-
The sound of cracking embers was far more welcoming than the merciless howl of wind I’d lost consciousness in. While the wind usually spurred nightmares, this time it led to a dreamless world of black. My body had numbed after a while. I hadn’t even felt my fever. The hours ticked in this fashion. I had no ambition to help or hinder it.
But then came the touch of a cool cloth against my damp forehead. The softness of bedding beneath me. The warmth of the fire against my cheek. And finally, the pleasantries of all three combined; cool strands of hair, soft lips against my ear, and warm naked flesh seeping its life into mine. I groaned in delight, pressing myself closer to what was very close to perfection.
“Miroku?”
Ah. And now it was perfection.
“Sango…”
I didn’t have to see to know it was her. I turned on my side, kissing blindly at the beautiful creature next to me. Her shoulder, her neck, her jaw – and finally her lips, surprised to find them colder than mine for once. I kissed her passionately, trying to contain my eagerness. I love my wife, but she does not deserve the fever I now suffer,
“I’ve missed you so …”
My eyes now willed themselves to open, and my heart made a small, confused summersault. There was Sango, beside me under the blankets, naked as I and trying to keep me alive with her body. She loved me enough to share her warmth, and kiss me to consciousness. So what was this lonesomeness she beheld me with?
Why did she always look so sad?
“Sango?”
Before I could voice further concern she pressed her fingertip delicately across my lips, silencing me. Her long lashes slid shut again as she nuzzled her cheek across my jaw, eventually settling to rest her head in the crook of my neck. I felt her deep breaths against my chest, knowing she was calming herself. So I let her have a moment, bringing a hand up to stroke her hair affectionately. Breathing in her scent I tried to decipher my wife. I could never understand the stem of her anxiety. She’d confessed to me many moons ago that my long missions made her sad, and sometimes angry. Coming home half dead surely didn’t help the matter. For all I knew Sango was probably trying to blame herself for all of this, strange woman that she was.
Sighing in defeat I turned to kiss her head, hand lowering to rub at her shoulder blades and absently over the scar between them. Suddenly she was trembling, her breath erratic. Panicked, and alarmed at what I’d done, I wrapped both my arms around her smaller frame and crushed her tightly to me. I didn’t want her to cry. Not over me. Not over anything. It hurt too damn much to see her like this.
But I suppose it was better than that sad, unanswered look in her eyes. Or the fake smile when I’d ask. I knew Sango was suffering from something. I just didn’t know how I could fix it.
Feeling her body calm down some, I combed a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered tentatively,
“Please let me in. What distresses you so?”
I could hear her breath hitch. Surely it wasn’t so hard to confide in me. It took her a few moments to gather her bearings, but she would not look at me as she spoke,
“… I feel powerless. You are gone so often, and I am thankful for the times you return unscathed but … it hurts so much more when this happens. Either wounded, or ill … I should have been there to prevent it. I know it is my place to stay here with the children – but it pains me … I would trade anything to keep you safe.”
Not liking the path her mind was wandering, I squeezed her shortly and tried to lighten the mood,
“Ah, but if this is the reward I come home to I eagerly embrace my ailments. There is no safer place in the world than your arms, koibito.”
“Until you die in those as well.”
That one stung a little. Shaking my head I pushed her back a few inches, holding her shoulders so that she would look me in the eye. For a moment I lay there and stared. Where was my happy bride? I’d lost her somewhere. All I saw in her place was the forlorn demon slayer, hopelessly alone. And just as I had years before, I wanted to bend over backwards to distract her from that lonesomeness. To see her smile, or angry (preferably the first – it hurt less), or embarrassed – anything was better than sadness. I’ve steadily come to realize it’s all that I live for.
“Sango, there is no place I would rather be than here with you and our family. I must provide, and yes it sometimes comes with hazards. But this obsession you have with Death and disparity … you must let it go, or it will consume you.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but this time I was the one to quiet her lips.
“I do realize our time is short, but it should not be spent mourning that. Instead we must be happy for every day we wake, and love with no regrets … No more sadness, Sango. Do you promise?”
She bit her lip, and I stared at it a bit longingly until remembering the task at hand, squeezing her shoulders gently.
“I am to promise not to care for you? How?”
“You may still care, but with a different outlook. Do not worry that I have almost died. Be glad that we have shared another day … Will you do that for me?”
Now she chewed at that lip, the little minx. Oh, but pay attention. I nudged her shoulders again as her eyes averted.
“I … can’t make any promises. But I’ll try.”
That was good enough for me. Leaning in I captured her lips, hesitant to seek anything farther than that. But as her pink tongue snaked out to trace my bottom lip I couldn’t help but invite her. In sickness and in health, if she wanted a cold I washed my hands of it and placed them where they rightfully belonged – on her perfect bottom.
Groaning as she lured my tongue into her mouth I rolled her onto her back, fully expecting her to growl or shove at me. Sango hated feeling trapped, a little something I’ve had no trouble exploiting in the past. But this time she seemed to submit completely, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressing me to her. My hands swept up her sides, lacing with hers and pinning them beside her head.
Ending the kiss I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. This woman had a stare that could break even the Buddha’s vow of celibacy. It was a warm and comforting thought that I was the only one she trusted with such a defenseless look. It struck up a need to protect her, foolish thought that it was. Sango was fully capable of protecting herself. The fact that she laid down her guard to let me in, and willingly let me feel her vulnerability, was what made it all the more endearing.
Paying homage to this fact I kissed my gratitude down her neck. She turned her head just enough to give me room, and whispered delicately in my ear how much she loved me. I made a low delighted sound and bit down, feeling her squirm beneath me and try to get her arms free.
Chuckling over her vain attempt I suckled apologetically over the area, leaving another red mark for Lady Kagome to tease my wife over.
At last she growled, annoyed that I’d laughed at her struggle. There was the Sango I knew. Now that I had her, I won’t soon let her go. Not even on penalty of death, or hiraikotsu pummeling.
The storm blew outside, but the blankets and firelight smothered us within. It didn’t matter that I’d caught ill, or that our children slept a stone’s throw away. As far as I was concerned my travels could wait a while longer. I had two weeks to make up to my wife and half a lifetime to make love to her. If that is not enough I will double my efforts and make it enough. I only pray Sango will inevitably come to terms with our fate and love the times we share just as fully as I do.
But for now, I'm fairly certain I can get her to change her mind before dawn.
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