Eh my gawd. Lucy can write something other than MS…

As one may have guessed, this is my newest series. I'm uncertain as to whether Koharu and Kuranosuke have even been mentioned in the same fic before, much less had an entire romance devoted to them. Regardless, they are two of the most overlooked minor characters in IY, and so I've given them a chance to shine. Hope you enjoy!

Note: For manga only fans; Takeda Kuranosuke is a lord who appeared in an anime filler episode. He'd fallen in love with Sango six years before and attempted to get her to marry him. While she ultimately left the palace without a promise of return, he remained hopeful that she would come back to the castle one day.

Disclaimer:Inu-Yasha belongs to Takahashi Rumiko, et al. This authoress is gaining nothing from writing this fanfiction.
Chapter One: Rain

It had rained the day Sango and her companions left the Takeda castle. The lord Kuranosuke liked to think that the skies were crying tears he daren't show, sobbing for her absence in his stead. Lords didn't cry, after all; it showed weakness of spirit and lack of restraint, two qualities that no ruler, young or not, should have. Yet the taiji-ya's face continued to haunt his dreams, and thus the downpour had yet to cease.

In lieu of bawling, Kuranosuke sighed, wandering through the empty corridors of his house—no; his prison—alone. When asked about love, the thinkers Takeda had often employed told him that life was hollow without it. Love woke one up in the morning, kept one busy beneath his bed sheets at night, filled empty spaces and created new ones, did everything and nothing all at once. From the moment he'd first heard of this thing, this "love", at the age of ten, Kuranosuke knew that he wanted it.

He would be a lord in nine short years.

Lords always got what they wanted.

He wanted love.

He wanted Sango.

Of course, he also wanted to put a stop to his perpetual colds, and that desire had yet to be fulfilled as, every winter, Takeda would lapse into convulsion-inducing snivels and be unable to breath through at least one nostril at a time.

Here was a young, handsome, lustful man with enough power to get him anything, and yet everything he pined for was just out of reach.

Said man sighed, thinking—knowing—that he was a failure as a ruler but still refusing to show tears.

How persistent, a voice in his head chided.

Persistent people are stupid.

Stupid people are weak.

Weak people are failures.

Kuranosuke remembered the day, the rainy, dreary, muddy day, when Sango's shapely rear had disappeared over the horizon for what he thought—knew—would be the final time. He couldn't recall what he'd said to her or how she'd replied, only that he had smiled, turned his face up to the heavy grey clouds, let droplets of rain posing as tears of defeat run down his face, and felt his world go numb around him.

That was sufficed to say that he remembered thinking I'm a failure, aren't I?

It had been a week since the taiji-ya and her company had waltzed out of Kuranosuke's life, and every one of the gloomy, tedious days that followed, he'd stood outside, rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on the path ahead of him. He was a human tree, his thick body unmoving, arm-branches and finger-twigs set and rigid. For a few minutes a day, he—it—did not stir, kept staring off into the distance as though looking—just looking!—would be enough to call Sango back from wherever she'd gone, pull her into his wooden embrace like a magnet would a piece of steel.

It was on one of these days that a silhouette appeared on the beaten road.

Of course, the forecast was unpleasant wetness all morning and evening, inundating the ground and turning dirt into viscous muck. Kuranosuke could hear the sickening squelch of feet meeting mud before he saw a shadow through the mist, staggering his way. A gasp and three consecutive sneezes later—Kuranosuke decided then and there that standing outside in the rain like an idiot everyday would do no good for his weak immune system—he called over a small fleet of guards to investigate the form. No sooner had they arrived did the cause of the ruckus stumble out from the fog…

…and straight into Kuranosuke, sending the lord down to the ground like a pine felled by an axe.

The Takeda head also came to the conclusion that the only thing worse than a year round cold was mud in one's ears.

He blinked once, twice, thrice, looked up at the surprisingly light from pressing in on him. The lord gazed into eyes as brown as the slop he was laying in, the purple lines underneath them clearly showing their owner's exhaustion. Mahogany hair spilled out from a red cloth and down to below her shoulders—for the person was definitely female—nearly touching a faded apron tied around her waist. Upon closer inspection, her face, exposed skin, and the blue printed outfit she wore were covered in filth and embers, though the layer of grime couldn't obscure the freckles that dotted her cheeks.

Aside from the freckles—which, truth be told, he found absolutely adorable—Kuranosuke concluded that she was a plain girl.

She was a mere peasant, far below him in social class.

But, then and again, wasn't Sango beneath him as well?

"Ugnh…" Hands clenched into minute fists at his chest, and the girl stirred, shivering from who knew what. She blinked once, twice, thrice, looked down at the surprisingly soft form beneath her body. Her vision came into focus, and she took in a handsome face, eyes hidden by dark bangs, a pointed, perfect nose…

She knew that face…

He leaned up to look at her, revealing a long black ponytail thick with mud. Though the girl had yet to see his eyes, the tail gave her the last piece of evidence that she needed.

"I know you."

Kuranosuke arched an eyebrow, confused and surprised at her voice. She sounded just as homely as she looked.

"Oh, Miroku-sama, I knew I'd find you someday… I see you grew your hair out… it looks nice on you…"

The lord's befuddlement was near tangible. "Miroku-sama"? The monk who was here a few days ago? Does she know him? And… who is she exactly? He didn't quite have time to think anymore, though, for her thin, dirty arms had since wrapped themselves around his raised head, and she sighed, collapsing against him tiredly. "Miroku-sama… you're here with me… I'm so happy…"

And then her body went limp and she stopped breathing.

Kuranosuke had never been so perplexed in his entire life.

Lord Takeda prided himself on his innate ability to figure things out quickly. Take the mysterious peasant girl that had appeared on the grounds that morning as an example. After she'd passed out, Kuranosuke relocated her to a futon inside the castle via a few guards. Within a few minutes of her coming to, he'd discovered that the young lady was absolutely obsessed with that monk.

Of course, she'd called out his name at the top of her lungs and run through a paper door searching for him, so any idiot could have figured that much out.

It would be a little longer before he'd know her name.

"Koharu," she told him that evening as she knelt before him respectfully, her small, beaten-looking hands clasped together at her lap. Though she bowed her head, Kuranosuke could see embarrassment and disappointment pooled in her eyes, making them shine with a peculiar light. "Sorry I mistook you for someone else before…"

With some effort, Kuranosuke lifted one corner of his mouth upward. While optimistic to a fault, the seigneur didn't smile often. Around people he couldn't care less about, he didn't do so at all, but when near someone or something important to him (namely Sango), he grinned and beamed and laughed and hooted so much, it became overwhelming. So, instead, he paired his attempt at a smile with a wave of his hand, saying, "It's fine, it's fine." An uncomfortable silence grew from there. Kuranosuke did the only thing that he could think of to stave off the disconcerting hush; throw his head back and laugh as loudly and as boisterously as he could.

Had he been looking at Koharu, he would have seen her visibly shiver at the sound.

Wiping away an invisible tear, Kuranosuke's chuckles faded, and he continued. "At any rate, Koharu, what brings you to the Takeda clan's residence?"

The girl didn't speak for a beat, during which she swallowed a lump the size of her fist. Then: "I'd been sleeping peacefully last night in my home, until I was awoken by screaming and the smell of smoke. From what I could see, a group of vandals had entered my village. Some of them rode on horseback, and a few others were gathering up the village girls in a corner. They lit the houses on fire, and I was so afraid, I did the only thing that I could do…"

"…and that was to run away," Kuranosuke finished, his face stony and unrevealing.

"Yes, that's correct. And then… I ended up here."

The lord nodded. "I see." Though he already knew the answer, he then prompted, "And who was the 'Miroku-sama' of which you spoke?"

Peering closely at the young woman's face, Kuranosuke saw her features soften and a smile curve her lips pleasantly upwards. "Miroku-sama…" she whispered, appearing as though she'd been put in a trance by the name. She reverted back to her normal tone of voice immediately after, however, and stated, "He was a monk that gave me food when I was younger. He really helped me in my time of need—more than once, actually—and so I thought that he'd come to save me again."

Now Kuranosuke was grinning. "Interesting…" He gave the young woman a second to revel in her own thoughts before saying, "Oh, Koharu!" Her head instantly snapped upward, eyes wide like a child's, one trembling hand clutched at her chest like an external heart. The corner of the lord's eyes crinkled as he said, "Would you mind if I borrowed your headscarf for a moment?"

"My… my scarf?" Now her voice was shaking too.

"Yes, please. I'll be just a second."

Wordlessly, Koharu rose, padding toward him on covered feet and releasing her hair from the bright fabric as she did so. When she was within touching distance, Kuranosuke reached out his hand to accept it, taking note of the beads of sweat pooling on her forehead. Smirking again, he waved the scarf with a flourish and, bringing it close to his face, sniffed it.

He didn't have to look at Koharu to know that her jaw had unhinged itself and was hanging someplace near her Adam's apple.

Withdrawing the headscarf from his nose, Kuranosuke glanced up at her—really, was it even possible for someone's mouth to be open that wide?—and, with a smile, said, "As I thought. It does not smell of smoke."

Her mouth snapped closed with a resounding click. "H… huh?"

Setting the material to the side, Kuranosuke declared, "Had you been in a burning village the night before, the scent of smoke would have most definitely stuck to your clothing. From what I can see—or, rather, smell—your headscarf's scent is normal; no traces of flaming buildings linger on it whatsoever.

"Also, are you aware that the village closest to the Takeda palace is one hundred thousand paces away? It takes a grown man a day to walk that far; why should I think that a simple village girl could be able to travel that distance in even less?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Koharu, tell me." There was now no trace of the humor that had lined his voice before; Kuranosuke was most definitely serious about whatever he wanted to discuss. "What really happened last night?"

"I… I told you that…"

"And you lied to me."

"I didn't mean to…"

"Koharu, I only want to know…"

"I'm sorry!"

Kuranosuke could only watch as Koharu's knees crumpled and she plummeted toward the ground for the second time that day. This time, though, there was no broad-chested male beneath her to break her fall. Kuranosuke mentally slapped himself as he looked upon the pitiful human earthquake before him. If there was any one thing he considered a sin, it was the upsetting of a woman. After that day six years ago when he'd first laid eyes on the awe-inspiring Sango, he'd become something of a feminist, unwilling to shatter women's spirits only to prove the dominance of his gender.

But now, looking at Koharu, a pile of glass shards on the floor, he felt that he just had done the thing he loathed so.

"Koharu."

She raised her head, breathing noisily.

Her eyes glistened, both with tears and fear.

And for just a moment, Kuranosuke realized that, one week ago, when that monk had risked losing an arm for the taiji-ya, Sango's eyes had shone in precisely the same way.

And, as he looked at the abject village girl before him, he couldn't help but think, how dare I hurt Sango like this.

"Tell me the truth, if you please."

Nodding, Koharu spoke, and Kuranosuke could have sworn that he heard Sango's voice along with hers. "Miroku-sama and I crossed paths for a second time about two months ago. As I was homeless, he found me a village to make my new life in. He battled a youkai as I lay unconscious in order to save me, and… and when I awoke… all that remained of him… was this."

Reaching into a fold in her clothing, Koharu produced a single scrap of paper. If Kuranosuke squinted, he could see that, on the side of the sheet that faced away from him, someone had messily written a kanji.

"An ofuda?"

She nodded, holding the paper in hands that had clearly never touched a boomerang, but that Kuranosuke liked to think had anyway. "I tried… I tried so hard to forget him. But I'd lived in the village he'd left me in, carried the ofuda he bestowed upon me… I held so many memories of him in everything that I did… it… it became impossible…"

"And so you ran away," Kuranosuke finished for her.

"Mhm. I thought maybe… if I… went elsewhere… starting over wouldn't be as painful. I've been traveling for a while, and I've barely slept at all. But there are so few villages around here that I was starting to give up hope of ever making my own life. And then I thought that I'd found him again today, and I decided then that I… I didn't want to forget…

"It's even more hopeless now…

"I'm just…"

"…a failure."

Kuranosuke also had an inborn skill for accurately ending people's sentences.

For the first time since she'd awoken, Koharu remained perfectly still.

"Koharu, stop and consider for a second," Kuranosuke went on, "What your monk would have thought of you if he knew that you'd run away. He'd worked hard to find you a place to stay in; is it right of you to abandon that? What do you think he would say if he knew that you were without a home?"

"I… I don't know… but… where am I to go now?"

Without stopping to consider the ramifications of his next words, Kuranosuke said, "You needn't go anywhere."

Their eyes locked for the umpteenth time that day, though this was the first occurrence where both parties looked—really looked—at one another. Koharu couldn't help but notice that, while similarly amiable, Kuranosuke's orbs shone much differently from Miroku's. Kuranosuke himself saw rugged feminity pooled in Koharu's eyes, a toughness he'd come to associate with his "one true love".

While the real Sango's eyes were presently looking fondly upon a houshi miles away, the similar pair before him would do as a nice substitute for them.

"Feel free to choose any unoccupied room on the grounds as your own; you may live here for as long as you like."

Her smile sent shocks of warmth spreading through his body.

Had he ever seen Sango smile?

Regardless, the grin Koharu wore like a favorite accessory could be mistaken for Sango's.

He could pretend.

And so he did.

Koharu saw an opportunity to start her life afresh.

And so she took it.

And thus, she remained.

And, though Kuranosuke didn't know it then, the grey clouds that had made a comfortable residence for themselves over the Takeda house began to, at long last, disperse…

End chapter.

It was necessary for me to select a reasonable age for Kuranosuke, as the anime never explicitly stated what it was. Judging by appearance alone, I assumed him to be nineteen.

Having only seen the dubbed episodes in which Koharu and Kuranosuke appeared, I also had to guess what Koharu called Miroku in the original Japanese. I thought the answer to clearly be "Miroku-sama," but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

With that said, reviews, especially constructive ones, would be lovely. I'm constantly editing my fanfictions, so any nitpicks you can find would make my job a lot easier. Please drop a comment. ;-) 'Till chapter two!