This is just a little something I felt inspired to write while working on a new chapter of my RK fic. It’s dedicated to one of the, in my opinion, most under-appreciated couples in all of anime. Here’s to you, S/M fans. ^-~

Comments: QuatreLuva@hotmail.com

Réveillent

By Kat

Sango sighed as she stretched her arms high above her head, her muscles aching in protest. Last night’s battle with Kagura had certainly taken a great something out of her, and the lactic acid released during her exertions was reeking havoc on her body now. Worst of all, they hadn’t managed to defeat that damnable woman before she had jumped on another one of her feathers and flown away, that evil smile of hers leering in the darkness. There was, however, one critical thing the previous night’s battle had taught her: if she ever wanted to free her brother from Naraku’s grasp, she would have to train. And train hard she would, she swore to that.

But for now, time was hers for the taking. A quick sweep of the camp confirmed that she was truly the only soul stirring in these hours of early morning. Just the way she liked it. Kagome was still dozing peacefully in her odd looking “sleeping bag” with Shippou curled up tightly against her, her arm draped casually across the kitsune’s small body. She smiled wistfully as she recalled the way she and her brother used to spend many a cool autumn night in the same fashion, falling asleep under a blanket of pure stars and sky. Abruptly, she ceased that train of thought before it lead to even more tears of sorrow at the reminder of her brother’s current condition.

Instead, she focused her attention on the others in the camp. Inuyasha was perched on one of the many branches of the nearest tree, high enough to be perceived as indifferent to the situation below, but low enough to protect in case danger should strike unexpectedly. He was sleeping directly above Kagome, as always. Whether that was intentional or not was unknown to the youkai exterminator. For some reason, though, she felt it was more of a conscious decision than not.

Ah, young love. No, correction, young denied love. Sango smiled.

Her attention then turned to the dark-haired priest who slept not far from where she herself had just stood from. She didn’t know whether or not she should be angry with the man for creeping closer to where she had slept during the night. More likely than not he had been looking for an opportunity to grope her, but then again, he had gotten into this habit of always placing himself near her whenever there was a chance a demon could attack. Finally, she decided she just wasn’t sure how she was supposed to react to his action and gave up on the matter.

As of late, things had become very confusing for her where Miroku was concerned.

Nani?! I need to stop thinking about…everything this early in the morning, she chastised herself as she realized what she had just thought. However, a light blush tinted her cheeks ever so slightly.

Deciding to occupy her mind with physical tasks instead of bothersome thoughts, she gathered up the blanket she had used last night and, folding it neatly, placed it next to her boomerang. She slipped on her sandals and, with one last sweeping glance over the others, walked silently out of the camp.

She knew there was a river not too far from where she had slept.

____________

As soon as her footfalls died away, he cracked his eyes open, blinked, and then opened them fully. Off again, like always, Sango…he thought with a small smile. Sitting up, he yawned quietly as he instinctually flexed his hands, attempting to wrest himself of his fatigue. The gentle clinking of the prayer beads drew his attention to his hand, where the rosary lay wrapped around his protective glove.

The Air Void: both his curse and his blessing.

Once again he found himself gritting his teeth in hatred for the one who had inflicted this curse upon him. Naraku, the blight of everything human, demon, or hanyou that lived. Miroku would kill him, and then he would really go to work on him. He found himself smiling icily at the thought.

The sudden cooing of a small, nearby bird dispelled his thoughts of revenge and odium at once. He sighed, shaking his head. He must not allow his anger to dictate his life; he had been thinking of Naraku all too often lately. And now, with the battle against Kagura so fresh in his mind, he knew his nightmares would once again begin to haunt him. They were always the same, visions of the future, when the Air Void in his left hand would consume him and take him away to the nameless place so many youkai had been sent to before by his own doing. They would be none too happy to see him again, and without his Air Void…

A soft purring sound pulled him from his reverie. Glancing down at his legs, he smiled as Kirara gently nuzzled him with her chin. He patted the small demon on the head and then turned to the spot where Sango had been sleeping not too long ago. Her blanket, hair ribbon, and Hiraikotsu lie in her place. Suddenly, his gaze darted back to her belongings. Wait, she never goes anywhere without her ribbon. I guess that means I’ve got to find her and return it, he mused, picking up the accessory in question.

Of course he had known when she had awakened the moment she had first stirred; his senses always seemed to be acutely tuned to her. Lately, though, he had noticed that his attentions had been focusing more and more upon the youkai exterminator, and not on just her physical attributes, either. Just within the past week, she had been getting into the habit of rising before dawn and going off on her own for a while. What she did during that time was a mystery to him, but he could at least guess her reasons for doing as such. Sometimes everyone just needed to be alone, if only for a short while.

Today, however, he found himself looking for an excuse to follow her the instant she left the camp.

Besides, she will need some company. These woods are no place for a beautiful lady to wander alone…

And with that, he lifted himself from the earth and headed east. He knew exactly where she was going. But, to his credit, he didn’t think once about the possibility of seeing her bathe.

He thought only of the possibility of seeing her.

____________

The river’s cool water was wonderfully refreshing against her skin. She could feel the dirt and grime, caked on her body from four days of hard traveling, washing away with each splash of water on her face. Too tempting to resist, she removed her kimono and exterminator outfit, only after a quick scan of the area to check for prowling hentai houshis, and immersed herself in the arms of the lazy river.

She dunked her head underwater once, twice, and then ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to smooth out the many tangles and knots that had become a part of her current lifestyle. After a few more minutes of floating about on the gentle currents and doing nothing in particular, she decided she had better get dressed if she wanted to be back at the camp by the time the sun rose. Already the first stretches of gray and pink were beginning to break on the horizon.

In less than four minutes she was dried and dressed. I guess traveling with a pervert has kind of made me wary when I’m not fully clothed, she thought wryly, grabbing her hair and twisting it to rid the strands of any excess water. Her hair separated into thick sections after she ceased wringing it, wild strands sticking out everywhere. At that moment she found herself wishing for all the world that she had remembered to bring a comb with her from the village. Oh well, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?

What doesn’t kill you…

Memories from last night’s battle pushed their way to her mind’s surface at the thought, and she busied herself with the task of locating her hair ribbon in order to keep the nightmares at bay. Try as she might, though, the battle scenes continued to replay before her eyes; one in particular. She had been lifting Hiraikotsu in preparation to strike at Kagura from behind, while Inuyasha occupied the youkai in front. Naraku’s offspring weren’t that easily defeated, however, and before she could react, a Wind Blade had been tearing through the air towards her, aimed directly for the exterminator’s head.

She had thought she was going to die then, eyes closed, frozen to the spot like some helpless doe. But the attack had never reached her. She had opened her eyes to see nothing but a dark purple and black material thrashing wildly in the wind in front of her. Miroku. He had jumped in front of her at the last possible minute, using his staff, body, and holy powers to form a protective barrier around them.

It was not the first time he had saved her life, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. For some odd reason she could not fathom, he never hesitated when it came to her safety. Why was that? And for that matter…

Where is that damn hair ribbon?! she scowled, purposely turning her thoughts away from the priest. The way she saw it, if she didn’t think about it, nothing could come of it. She didn’t want to open the door for confessions just yet, and thinking about his sweet side was the one thing that could lead her to doing so.

Finally, after searching all around for her ribbon, she gave up entirely and turned to head back to camp. By this time, the eastern sky was growing lighter and more colorful with each passing minute. As she took the first few steps westward, however, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face the rapidly blushing sky. Oh well, I suppose I can just watch the sunrise out here and join the others later, she reasoned. Besides, Inuyasha would be up with the first ray of sunlight, gruff attitude and all, and it had been so long since she had actually been able to watch the sunrise in peace…

Shrugging, she turned on her heel and headed back towards the river. The forest they were traveling through was nestled comfortably in the rolling mountains of the Western Lands, and she was sure there had to be some small hill near there with a spectacular view she could watch the sunrise from. She spotted a medium-sized mound of earth not too far from the river and, after safely and dryly traversing the gurgling water, made her way up the hill. After clearing a small patch for herself, she sat down lightly upon the dew-covered grass and began running her fingers through her hair again, anxiously awaiting the first brilliant bursts of rust and violet and crimson.

It was in that position that Miroku found her.

____________

If only I had Kagome’s “camera” thing…She looks so…perfect like that, he thought, his mission of returning her hair ribbon temporarily forgotten. She was sitting with her legs out in front of her, head tilted to the side, hands eagerly running through her dark tresses. As he observed her face in the early morning light, it seemed to shine with a soft glow all its own. Times like these revealed the little things he loved about her in a way the harsh daylight never could, and he found himself longing for the chance to be the one running his fingers through her silken hair. Kami-sama, snap out of it, Miroku! You know if she catches you staring at her like that she’s liable to slap you…

But he couldn’t stop. And in truth, he didn’t want to, either.

_____________

Someone was watching her; she could feel the weight of a stranger’s gaze intruding upon her early morning sanctuary even as she continued to watch the eastern sky. It was funny, though, that she didn’t feel the least bit unnerved by the fact that someone was standing behind her, staring at her. It was as if she knew the observer was friendly and had arrived at this place armed only with good intentions. Ever so slowly, she turned her head to look behind her and put a name to the eyes of which she was currently the focus. Somehow, though, she knew who it was before she had even moved an inch.

Miroku.

An inexplicable feeling of happiness began to bubble up inside of her, and she mentally smacked herself. Get a hold of yourself, Sango! It’s just Miroku, you know… the hentai priest! she scolded herself. When she spoke, though, her voice was surprisingly calm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for this kind of situation to occur.

“Houshi-sama?” she called, indicating by her tone that now was the time to explain his reason for following her.

“Hai, Sango,” he replied, his trademark grin replacing the dazed look on his face. “I just came out here to return this to you.”

As he spoke, he made his way up the hill and stopped beside her, extending the hand containing her ribbon. The dubious look she was giving him made him flinch mentally. After all the perverted tricks he had pulled, she was constantly wary of his presence now, and, for some reason, the thought made itself heavy upon his conscious.

“A..arigatou, Houshi-sama,” she stammered, taking the dark strip of material from him.

He could tell she was still not convinced that was his only reason for standing beside her at that moment. “I thought you might need it; you never go anywhere without it,” he offered nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders, hoping that she would believe him.

“Hai. I was looking for it earlier, actually,” she rejoined. The implicit meaning in her words was not lost on him, and he turned to look at her quizzically. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

“No, actually. I’m not as perverted as you may think, Sango,” he returned quietly. Gods, was that the only thing she thought his mind focused on when it came to her?!

“I…gomen, you’re right. Forgive me,” she murmured. “I suppose all this fighting we’ve been doing has put me a little on the edge, you know?”

“Hai, I do.”

A cool breeze flitted through the branches of the trees overhead, rustling the leaves in its wake and tossing strands of her hair wildly in her face. Silently, she moved to tie her ribbon around the tips of her tresses like she always did, but she found Miroku had moved faster than she. Gently taking the ribbon out of her hand, he began gathering her hair at the base of her neck when she placed her hand on his. “Houshi-sama…”

“Don’t worry, Sango,” he assured her with a sad smile. He didn’t need to finish the statement; she knew from his tone that he wasn’t planning on trying anything.

She trusted him.

Silence passed between the two again as he continued to tug tenderly at her raven hair and gather it into his left hand. The sweet smell that was uniquely her, something like lavender mixed with ginger and green tea, poured into his senses and was more intoxicating to him than any alcohol could ever be. It was the smell of comfort and peace and home and…her. Finally, after one last glance to make sure he hadn’t missed any stray strands, he wound the ribbon around her hair and smoothly tied it into its usual shape. After a few more still moments, he lowered himself to the ground beside her, but kept his focus on the sky before him.

His hadn’t once removed his hand from her back.

“It’s been a long time since I can clearly remember watching the sunrise…” he began, uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “Do you…mind if I watch it with you?”

Normally, she would have been more than a little suspicious of his request. Normally, she would have smacked him for even trying to touch her. Normally, he would have tried to make some kind of move on her by now. Normally, she wouldn’t even consider allowing him to rest his hand upon her shoulder like he had been doing for the past short while.

But, then again, this had been anything but a normal morning.

“I…iie. I don’t mind at all.”

Not a word was spoken after that. Eventually, the sun’s light began spilling itself across the many mountains and valleys of the forest, illuminating the gray world with a warm, golden brilliance. The light chased away the whispers of mist hanging lazily over the river and ground, dispelling them like so many ghosts at dawn. Streaks of crimson, rust, and violet melted and fused together on the horizon, creating an artist’s dream of a watercolor painting. Slowly, as if it too did not want to rise from its slumber, the sun began to crawl above the tree lines in the distance, filtering through the branches and casting rays of shadow and light upon the forest floor.

“Wow…” Sango whispered, not able to put into words what she felt at the sight before her. “It’s…beautiful.”

Miroku turned to look at her. “Hai…beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze never faltering, never leaving her face.

She felt the heat of his eyes on her once again, and blushed at what he had said. Try as she might, she could not deny that she wished for this moment to be suspended in time, if only for a while. These quiet times with him were things she had come to cherish, for it was the only time she could admit to herself what she truly felt. Once the day began anew with Inuyasha and the others, it was back to the same old routine of bickering, sexual comments, and mild violence. But times like these- when he allowed her to see the side of him he always kept hidden…they were precious to her.

“Houshi-sama…” she began, turning to meet his gaze but unable to hold it. “I…I…”

He cupped her chin with his hand and gently lifted her face so he could see her eyes. “Shh, I know, Sango. I know.”

He stroked her cheek lightly with his thumb, his eyes locked with hers. Neither could tear away, and neither had any desire to do so, either. Then, as he leaned closer to her, their lips brushed together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

It was for but an instant, but it was enough for both of them. For now.

As they separated, their gazes turned back to the brilliant scene of life and light before them, unfolding and spreading across the mountains like a river of golden warmth. After a few moments, she leaned her head against his shoulder, making herself comfortable in the crook of his neck. They stayed like that until the sun rose completely, neither saying a word.

They didn’t need to.

___________

A/N: “Réveiller” is the French verb that means, “to awaken.” Réveillent is the third-person plural form of the verb. So, essentially, the title means “they awaken.”