A/N: Oh boy. What a trip...I thought I'd never finish this thing. (sighs) I don't know if it was worth it or not... All I know is that I tried – very hard – to make this thing work. It turned out to be WAY longer than I anticipated, hopefully for the better. I'll probably cut and revise later, knowing me. I've been in a major M/S fix lately...this is the result (shifty eyes) I hope I'm paying them justice. I'm really worried about my writing being a total bore to people; it's almost turned into paranoia. Okay, enough rambling! Tell me what you think! Critique is appreciated.

Thanks goes to my beta, Crys who made this readable!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Miroku or Sango. I don't own the happy, wonderful realm they dwell in. Takahashi-sensei does.

.Injuries of the Heart.

The woman's eyes required a few moments to adjust to the warm darkness surrounding her. The only light offered was that of the few stars lighting the night sky and the firelight leaking from the small hut she had just departed. She took a deep breath while pulling the kasode looser from her sweltering bodice. It was summer, for that was certain. The wind was minimal and the air thick with humidity as she ran her fingers through her coarse black hair, removing it from her neck. It had been three summers since she began this journey in search of vengeance...wherein she befriended a rather odd group of companions, which included an irrevocably stubborn Inu-hanyou who was bent on revenge for his long-departed love, the young, vivacious futuristic miko who accompanied him even when it killed her inside, and an orphaned kitsune cub who clung to the miko like a sloth to a tree. Then, of course...

Eventually her slow steps had landed her in the doorway of another familiar hut not too far from Kaede's.

She knew very well who was inside: the mere thought quickened her heart rate considerably and sent a tremor down her spine. Her eyes grew glassy as his cherished image came into mind-view. The rather mischievous smile, the bright, expressive mauve eyes, and the violet kesa to contrast with his black kimono...It was all him. Houshi-sama. Or in reference to his God-given name, Miroku.

His secluded soul was what lay beyond the swaying bamboo flap. At that moment a stray wind picked up, sending her bluntly-cut bangs flying in front of her thoughtful coffee-hued eyes. A glimpse of him was visible, but only for a brief moment in time. It was all she needed to slowly pull back the bamboo flap and noiselessly step inside. She watched from the doorframe as the candles and moonlight played shadows on his bandaged body. A growl rumbled in her throat as her stomach flipped. To a certain point, she believed it to be her fault he was injured. Her help wasn't offered when he needed it most. 'If I hadn't been unconscious at the time...I could have prevented it from even happening to him in the first place. I could have. But I didn't. I wasn't.'

There was much truth in the fact that she had been knocked unconscious by the demonic force that had taken hold of Miroku. It had been one of their more formidable foes; she had to admit that the creature had been stronger than she, or anyone else, had anticipated. She subconsciously clenched her fists, cursing herself for her stupidity. She remembered the terror she felt when she woke up from her own coma, the moment someone said her houshi had just slipped out of consciousness. "His wounds are nearly fatal; we will have to see how he does in the next few days. He is likely to wake up, but when and if he does...be ready for a prolonged recovery." He had woken up for the first time nearly two days ago. However, this would be her first time to see him. Kagome and Inuyasha had gone inside early that morning while she was cleaning her weapons. Sango's eyes darted to the ground shamefully, although reluctant to leave his face.

Her bare feet crept along the wooden planks towards his sleeping figure, kneeling down when he was in arm's reach of her touch. Her eyes narrowed warily as she glanced at the prayer-beads encircling the hand almost touching her knee. 'He's unconscious, you fool.' She listened to the rasping sound of his still slightly labored breathing, much against her own will. Wincing inwardly, her eyes moved from his seemingly inanimate hand to the clean bandages clenched between her fingers. 'That's what I came in here for, isn't it: to dress his wounds? I don't want to wake him, though...' She hesitantly let her fingers trace his jaw line, a gesture poised with affection.

A worried frown appeared on her forehead as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, much slower than was natural. The expression on his face was one she knew wouldn't be seen again for a long time. It was serene, uncovering his usually pensive or anguished features. His mouth was slightly parted and his raven hair still disheveled from battle and partly from rest. His bangs clung to his eyelashes, portraying him as younger than he truly was. She couldn't help but let a sad smile flit across her lips. He looked as if...as if he hadn't a care in the world. Unfortunately, the taijiya knew better.

Once again her eyes traveled to his purple and black-clad arm, the piece stopping at his elbow. The curse had saved their lives as many times as it endangered his. Her acquired knowledge about the wind vortex embedded in his right hand unsettled her, made her heart ache for him. When she saw him trudging down the dirt-paved roads every day, she sometimes wouldn't even think of such a burden befalling him. He could be so blithe, she admired him for the strength he had. It also made her immeasurable hate for the hanyou Naraku become lethal in a sense. How could it be that one creature such as him could create an epitome of hell in the lives of people so non-deserving, ripping them of their potential happiness?

'There was no explanation for the unfathomable torture he dawned on my village. He has no right to keep Kohaku as a pawn in this game he loves to play. He knows no mercy. He can't let Miroku live in peace, free from the burden that clings to his being, bringing him down as it grows stronger. Yet, something inside me wishes I could have stopped it all from transpiring in the first place...'

She let her chin dip onto her chest as her throat constricting with every breath. 'Not here. I'm not going to lose it here.' She painfully bit her lip, scrutinizing the far corner through heavily glazed eyes. 'You're strong, right? Be strong and overcome your feelings like you have done so many times before.' She buried her face in her sleeve for a long moment before looking up. With at least a smidgen of her composure gained back, she shakily unfolded her apron and spread it out beside her. Set inside were Kagome's rare herbal wound treatments and unused bandages. Her hair frustratingly got in her way, falling into her face and blanketing her shoulders. At least it covered the tears staining her cheeks when she spoke with a voice nearly inaudible. "I'm sorry."

Taking a deep gulp of air, she began busy herself by emptying the contents inside her apron onto the ground for reference. Clumsily, her elbow knocked over the large bottle of iodine. She held her breath while waiting for the repercussions. The first thing for her to hear was the sound of a fist hitting the floor. She noticed he had reflexively gone for his shakujou when the bottle had toppled over. Sango winced as he groaned, his abdomen contracting with the sudden movement.

"I—I meant to let you rest... sorry—so careless!" her words came out in a string of trivial words as he waved it off dismissively. She watched as he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You need to rest," she hissed. Miroku was now sitting up, his weight resting on the palms of his hands. She could feel the heat gradually making its way back into her face as she hastily wiped the remaining tears away, removing any traces of sadness. He would worry.

"I've been resting for nearly five days, that's more than enough time to recuperate," he said roughly, grimacing as he found that he had broken some ribs in the process of fighting the last youkai. The mediocrity of the battle sickened him, especially the fact that he let himself be beaten so rashly. 'If I'm having troubles in fights such as this...what will I do when the time comes with Naraku?' The pain was dull now, not as intense as the previous days he had seen. 'Thank kami. I don't know what would've happened if the pain hadn't subsided to some extent...' His thoughts strayed off as he studied Sango's features in the darkness of the room. She appeared very distressed and tired; different than the slight melancholy mood in which he often witnessed her. Although there was considerable heat lighting her cheeks, he noticed her skin was rather pale; more so than he would've liked to see. Her eyes were a bit sunken in with lack of sleep he imagined. With the way her body was remarkably tense and her hands trembling, he realized the strain she was putting herself under.

"Sango?" he inquired anxiously. She looked up at him with dismal eyes.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. The only person we need to worry about is you," she assured, turning away. His gaze alone was an illegal interrogation. It soon ended when he spoke.

"There's no reason for you to worry, I merely have a few flesh wounds...nothing that can't be healed with your wonderful aid," he offered his own quirky smirk in the midst of the pain. The smile widened as he noticed her fold her arms heatedly, a soft blush tinting her cheeks.

"They're more than mere flesh wounds. It will take a lot of time for them to heal. You've been in bed for almost a week... I—we were worried," she added, glancing away and avoiding his gaze. He nodded; his eyes unflinching as he watched her.

"Well you came to dress my wounds, did you not?" he inquired. She felt like laughing at his feigned innocence, but...the action seemed so far away from her at the moment.

"That I did, houshi-sama," she replied pleasantly. "And if you don't behave, these will always serve as weapons," she displayed the clean, ragged bandages in a threatening manner.

"Ah. Fair enough," he agreed. She situated herself behind him, dragging the medical supplies with her. Her hands ventured around his abdomen, searching seemingly for the end of the bandage. With no success, it wasn't long before his larger hand came up to guide hers in the right path. She muttered an apology embarrassedly as she found the tied knot. His hand didn't let go of hers for what seemed like a moment longer than intended. A wrenching sensation hit her as he did.

She began to unwrap the first set of bandages, more hastily than was necessary. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she couldn't afford for him to notice such an oddity. 'I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he has on me...I can't give him any reason to act on it, either,' she thought callously. Her hands began to quiet when she concentrated on the silence surrounding them both. She heard him sigh exaggeratedly, but that was nothing unusual. She ignored it, as always. There was no change in his behavior; he seemed to be submerged in his usual pensive state. 'Well he isn't acting any different, what's wrong with me? My emotions are going absolutely haywire...' She gasped as she saw the blood-stained underlying bandages. Eventually she felt his body relax as she removed the last constricting bandage.

"Your wounds have healed a great deal in two days," she commented, picking up the antiseptic. "I'm surprised Kaede-sama didn't suffocate you with all the bandages she used."

"She was purely concerned for my own well-being," he replied. "She's very motherly in that aspect."

"Yes, she is." 'She takes good care of all of us.' "It's amazing how she knows exactly what to do." Her hand traveled soothingly over his back, her eyes wide and worried at the deepness of the gashes. They had stopped bleeding profusely, but were still too nasty for her liking. The large wound on his abdomen looked painful as well.

"However..." he began softly, her fingers feather-light as they traveled across the bare skin of his lower back. His body pulsated at the contact. "No one will ever compare to you."

"That's not true at all," she said indifferently, ignoring his attempt at flattery. 'How can I possibly look out for him in the future when I'm unable to protect him now?' Her features darkened as she murmured, "Kaede-sama is certainly more equipped to take care of someone in need than I am." She began folding the new bandages.

"Now Sango, what would my recovery be without your care?" She felt like snorting at his seemingly feigned sincerity; however, her actions were paused. "It would be nothing. I doubt whether my initiative to pull through would be nearly that of what it is now."

"I'm fairly sure it would houshi-sama," she retorted. "I believe your initiative to be very strong, more so when there are village girls seeking your aid."

"I suppose it may seem that way sometimes," he said quietly as his mind traveled elsewhere. 'Of course she would think that.' What had he done to persuade her otherwise? Nothing worthy of her trust, that was for sure. He wouldn't be lying if he said that he had tried to prove his love to her on several occasions, but with serious conviction? 'How foolish am I?' He had given up when she wouldn't listen to his antics, but what good had that done? He wanted for her to know. She deserved the truth, not anything less. The way he felt about her was not something he thought of lightly. She was nota village girl, after all. There was much more going on behind her chocolate eyes than marriage, clothing, and men.

Sango set down the antiseptic and began to wrap the new bandages around his upper body. "So what does make your will to live stronger, houshi-sama?" she inquired. "I mean, what keeps you going? Aren't there days when you feel as if things cannot possibly continue the way they are?" Miroku turned his head briefly at the unmistakable curiosity he heard in her voice. What beckoned her to stray onto this topic? 'Oh well.'

"There...are days like that in everyone's life. We just have to find ways around those times, even if it means making the most of an absolutely dreadful situation. What helps me through it is remembering the important things, like companions who stay with me and help me along the journey I've been so desperate to accomplish. Without them, I would most likely be going about my prior habits of living with no true initiative at all. I would be laughing and sulking through the hard times alone.

"I never want to go back to that. The day Inu Yasha mentioned traveling to defeat his enemy, who also proved to be mine; that was the day that I had finally found a way to repent for my foul redundancy as a member of my family. The light shone on a new path, one paved with even more hard times. But the difference was...I wouldn't be alone," he paused. "Without your support, where do you think I would be right now?"

Sango was listening so intently it took her a moment to answer. "In a tea house?"

"Precisely. But you should know that I have no reason to stay there. The truth is...when I'm in a place similar to that, I feel like there's somewhere that I can hide from my problems, and myself," his voice became so quiet Sango had to lean in to hear his words. "They just see what they want, and then they are satisfied. I am able to associate with people who don't really see me," he paused, turning to meet her intent gaze full-on. "Whenever I'm with you...I feel like I'm bare. There are some times when I wish I could hide from you, but know that I can't."

Sango moved beside him on the futon, now done with the bandaging for the time being. The two exchanged a thoughtful gaze, followed by a silence. The point of vulnerability Miroku was displaying...it was frightening. She had never had the chance to talk to him like this at length, and where the conversation was going she realized was unfamiliar ground. When she thought about the trust he placed in his friends...'me...'it made her heart swell.

'He's not the only one who's hiding...'

Her eyes widened at the insight. 'You lock yourself away inside your mind so that no one can feel your pain.' Miroku might hide himself because he's ashamed, but... 'I hide myself because I'm scared.' "I wish you wouldn't try so hard, houshi-sama," she whispered, meeting his amethyst gaze with some difficulty. "You know...there's a reason I prefer to spend my time with you," she gripped his hand tenderly. "If there weren't, do you think I'd waste it trying to understand you?"

His eyes widened at first, but he then felt his heart flutter. "Ah... Lovely girl," he breathed, caressing her hand with his fingers. "I only want you to see the man who cares for you," he began, his other hand reaching up to gently push the bangs out of her quivering eyes. "The man who loves you."

The taijiya's heart catapulted somewhere far, far away and the next thing she felt was the slight pain of her nails digging into the thin fabric of her kasode. Soon shock turned into angst. His honesty and conviction were begging, no – pleading with her to acknowledge the truth. 'Is this true? Or is this a mere diversion used to take advantage?' Before she thought further...there was something blocking her emotions with throttling force. Her mistake. It was because of her incompetence that... "Even if he does exist...I don't deserve him," she said slowly, not exactly trusting her words.

Miroku touched her shoulder, turning her to face him. The urge to reassure the girl in his grasp began to overwhelm his very being. "Do you think that if you didn't deserve him he would be bearing his feelings to you without any intention of you loving him back? It is I who doesn't deserve you. Has the harsh truth that I don't deserve you stopped me before? Of course it hasn't, because...I hope the love I have for you conquers all other doubts that I might have."

"What?" Miroku leaned forward so that he could see her features clearly, savoring the natural beauty that never failed to draw him in.

"If you don't deserve me, then I don't know who does," he breathed, his mouth lingering mere inches from her own. He could roughly feel the heat radiating from her body, her hot breath moistening his lips.

"Someone who can take care of you when you are injured...and save you in the midst of battle," she murmured dejectedly.

"You do realize that you're talking about none other than yourself." He smirked as his hand caressed her neck, brushing a long lock of hair from her shoulder. He could feel her shiver, not necessarily from the draft in the hut but from something much more complex.

"I didn't save you, Miroku..." she uttered his name, music to his ears. But the shame heard in her voice disappointed him.

"The only responsibility you have is to yourself, no one else. I trust you. Believe it or not, I can take care of myself, and if I ever fall then it will be from my own doing." Sango's eyes narrowed once she repeated his words in her head and realized their true meaning.

"I'm not saying you're incapable–"

"Then I won't hear another word." Sango remained silent for a long moment, contemplating the decisiveness heard in his words. She finally met his eyes, some traces of disgrace gone and replaced with mortification and tension. He grinned before his lips caught hers chastely, his hand slowly sliding down her arm to mingle his fingers with hers. She let her eyes flutter closed, a calm she never knew existed washing over her. All ticking in the back of her mind ceased to a gracious halt, taking in every moment. Any thoughts of pushing him away and feeling violated were non-existent as she relished the feel of his mouth against hers. With every second that went by the kiss grew more heated, more yearning. Her heart throbbed dully as he ceased the connection...hopefully momentarily. His lips traced the path along her jaw line in a manner which caused a tremor to grip her spine and a wave of heat spread through her.

"H...Houshi-sama..." she murmured. He paused for a moment, only his subconscious reacting. Once he heard her voice grow louder, he pulled way reluctantly. He noticed the warm flush her face had acquired, and the expression she was wearing caused his adoring smirk to return. His eyes lingered on her figure, the way her yukata was loose from her neck and her fists clamped around his muscled arms.

"Delightful," he breathed, causing a frown to appear on her face. "You really are something special."

"I am?" she asked, peering at him with undeniable scrutiny. "How?"

"You're asking me to explain something that's still a mystery," he murmured into her hair. She rolled her eyes at his sycophancy and laid her head on his shoulder, wishing to not move from the position for a very long time. Something inexplicable in the back of her mind told her that from now on whenever she looked at him... her gaze would no longer be filled with longing for something she couldn't have. That inexplicable feeling when he caressed her skin would forever be lodged in her memory...and oh how she wanted to feel it again. 'When will you feel it again?' That single thread of thought served as a raging wildfire, igniting other emotions that she thought had been dulled at least to some degree. Her eyes opened slightly and a frown marred her forehead as she thought about the possibilities. She heard him murmur her name, gripping her subconscious and bringing her back to reality.

"I don't know if..." she began hoarsely, pulling away to meet his questioning gaze. "If we will have very many chances to be with one other, like this..." Her hand rested at the base of his neck, determined to speak her mind. "I don't want to throw those chances away. The time not spent in search of Naraku is very limited nowadays. Who knows when you'll be injured again..." she trailed off as a slight grin worried her features. His eyes narrowed with contemplation as he gazed at her for a long moment. 'How right she is.' His wind-tunnel increased in threat with every passing year while his life-span continued to decrease. 'I don't want to burden her with my own curse. If life permits, when this curse is gone...' His mouth tilted upward in an equally sad smile, wanting to be with her even more now that he caught a glimpse of what had yet to come. 'I want her. I want that chance as well...' Sango's authenticity in her feelings strengthened her inner beauty as well as her heart. His hand cupped her face affectionately, his thumb tracing her warm lips. She leaned into his touch, wondering what was on the monk's mind.

"I feel your pain," he said gravely. "I can only hope that there will be many which we can enjoy, through the hard times and all."

"How can you be so confident?" she inquired softly.

"I have to be. When that chance comes...I don't want to take them–you, hastily." Sango nodded slowly, her features growing slightly flushed. She realized his implications were at least half-way honorable – but she understood him perfectly nonetheless. She kissed his palm tenderly, her eyes filled with shy, veiled passion. His gaze grew clouded as his brows furrowed, clearly in deep thought.

"Forgive me," he began almost inaudibly. Her gaze urged him on. "If death consumed me before I had the chance to..." he trailed off as her hand lifted to cover his. "There would be nothing more precious to me than the time I spend with you now. I would not regret telling you even if you didn't return those said feelings," he said sincerely. "I hope you know that truth."

"No...Don't talk like that," she said, ignoring the hoarseness taking over her voice. "You can't—"

"I need you to know that truth," he said firmly. Sango fought the emotion welling up inside her, yelling at him for stating cruel reality. 'As long as you're here, I won't let you die in front of me!' His scent of earth and hints of familiar passionate aromas mixed in with the balmy smell of him invigorated her senses Her head ceased its pounding as his lips soothed hers in a gentle caress. Silent tears streaked her pale features, unable to hold themselves back. He cradled her against him, his hands smoothing the fabric of her clothing closer to her skin. Her fingers spread across the peaks of his perspiring shoulders as the two wallowed in the intense fervor pooling at their feet. Her heart jumped when she felt him gasp against her lips. She opened her eyes to see what the problem was only to realize that she was pressing harshly against his wounded abdomen; she had practically moved half-way into his lap during their...rather heated contact. She fought the blush threatening to burn all over her body. He cursed silently as she moved out of his grasp.

"My condition is more of a burden that I bargained it to be," the disappointment was agonizingly apparent in his voice.

She tried to find words to answer him with while trying desperately to compose herself. "A-All we need is to reopen your wounds; then we'd be in a right mess. You need to rest for a while, anyway." She began to stand, smoothing out her clothing in the process. She ignored his expression, which was clearly pleading for her to stay.

"I'm afraid that the others are already asleep as well," she muttered to herself, gazing out the small window of the hut. The stars were now high in the sky, and the crescent moon barely visible through the dark clouds looming overhead. A slight wind gusted through the hut, stirring the events that had taken place. Sango almost didn't know what to think about their relationship now, while Miroku's relief was enough to make him collapse on his futon. The amount of secrecy between the two had dwindled a great deal; the things now left in the open seemed to settle in the silence. Her fingers traced her lips memorably with a thoughtful grin.

"You certainly wouldn't want to disturb Inu Yasha and Kagome's peace," Miroku said propitiously. She cocked an eyebrow, knowing where this conversation was going almost immediately.

"Peace? I don't think they know the meaning of the word," she commented, turning around and watching his expression take on a mischievous air. She leaned against the wall, her eyes drifting to the mussed sheets. A blush lighted her features.

"Who knows? They might have hit a milestone in your absence. Perhaps you should probably leave them alone more often." Sango smirked at the monk, rolling her eyes into the back of her head. His implications were slightly dishonorable indeed, but who would he be if they weren't? An honorable monk? 'Nah.'

"As good as that sounds..." she began, her feet walking across the wooden planks once more. "I don't think Inu Yasha would appreciate it if we did."

-.-

Inu Yasha glanced circumspectly at the doorway into the hut, realizing that it had been quite a while since the taijiya had left to treat the monk's wounds. Kagome had said not to bother them, but he had better ideas. More practical ideas.

"Wh...Where's Sango?" grumbled Kagome, sitting up from her quiet spot across from the wary silver-haired hanyou. Shippou was sleeping against a transformed Kirara in the far corner, so she didn't have to worry about waking him up in the process of pulling the blankets off her perspiring body. Inu Yasha's ear twitched in response, no words from him responding to her question. Her eyes narrowed in impatience, her temper not the kindest as she was half-asleep. "Hey!"

Inu Yasha glared in her direction, sensing her foul mood. "What are you griping about?" he hissed.

"Is Sango still gone?" she asked again.

"What does it look like?" he retorted rudely. Kagome rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

"It looks like you need more rest than I do," she said flatly.

"Feh! As if I could sleep... You're way too noisy anyway."

"At least I don't growl when I'm asleep." Inu Yasha sneered at this, turning away from the miko who had already put her head on the pillow once more. There was silence while Inu Yasha's eyes threatened to close. It was almost impossible to stay awake when it was so warm...and so calm. 'I might as well... Who knows when I'll get the chance again?' His thoughts traveled so far out of reach that he didn't even notice when Kagome rolled over to look up at him.

"Do you think they love each other?" Kagome asked softly. Inu Yasha's eyes closed, just for a moment as he repeated her words in his mind.

"Honestly, I don't think Sango would put up with his crap for long even if she did love him. Miroku don't deserve her." Kagome studied his profile for a long moment, her eyes savoring his rugged, unique features and the firelight playing upon them.

"Love can conquer all." Inu Yasha frowned as he stared down at her with dark auburn eyes. Her gaze was unreadable, watching him in that indescribable way that always beckoned him.

"Yeah, right," he snorted quietly, not breaking her gaze. Kagome didn't answer, but chose to rest her hand on his as she closed her eyes peacefully. She never saw the deep blush color his cheeks, or the reminiscent smile flit across his mouth. She never felt his fingers thread her hair while she was in a slumber. She never awakened when Inu Yasha interrogated the taijiya in the wee hours of the morning in harsh whispers. Quite unfortunately, she never heard the quiet chuckle pass through Sango's lips as she lay against Kirara, wallowing in whatsoever occured under the heavens that night.

-.-

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Reference to Terms

kasode – short-sleeved, light kimono

Inu-hanyou – half dog-demon

kesa – the purple sash Miroku ties around his torso

miko – priestess

taijiya – demon-slayer