Regrets by Leloi “Sango…”  Miroku whispered, smiling sweetly at the demon slayer.  His right hand held hers, for the first time in many years, bare skin touching someone else’s skin. “Houshi-sama… monks don’t marry, do they?”  Sango whispered, not daring to look into his eyes.  This was by far the hardest thing she ever had to do.  Even the defeat of Naraku didn’t compare to what she knew in her heart was the right thing. “I would leave all that if it would mean…” Miroku began, trying to catch her gaze, but she refused him.  “Why won’t you look at me?” Slowly her soft brown eyes made their way to his violet eyes.  “Houshi-sama, I can’t ask you to do that for me.  You may be a total pervert, but I know in my heart that you would do more good as a monk than you ever could as a husband to a demon slayer.”  For a moment violet eyes wavered and blinked back tears that threatened to fall.  “I… understand.”  Stepping towards her, he wrapped her in his arms, holding her body close to his own.  “Sango… you will always be the only one I ever...  I have no regrets that one night we… I can’t regret that.”  His lips caressed her cheek. “I find that hard to believe.”  Sango tried to laugh, but it came out in near chocking sobs, thinking back on the night she had allowed him into her bed.  It was only once, but it had been slightly alarming that within the next few days Naraku had been defeated, making his need for an heir moot.  “You can’t believe I won’t regret it?”  Miroku asked, blinking down at her with an uncertain look on his face. “No… that I’ll be the only one.”  Sango tried to look away.  His fingers caught on her chin as he pulled her lips to his own.  For a few desperate moments, he tried to recapture the passion he had felt in her arms.  Tenderly he ended the kiss.  “You will be the only one.  I’m glad it was with you.  Please believe me, Sango.  I love you.”  His lips lightly grazed the side of her lips.  “Monks shouldn’t be tied down with earthly passions, should they?”  Sango breathed, blinking back her own tears.  “If you need anything, please… come back to me.  I’ll be at my master’s temple.”  Lightly he kissed her forehead.  “Promise me.” “I will.” ^.~ Years passed without a word from Sango.  Inuyasha and Kagome had gone their own way, but the monk expected at least SOME word from Sango.  As time passed the monk found it more and more difficult to attend to his duties.  Sango was in a dangerous profession.  Should something happen to her would he ever know?  Would someone tell him or would he feel it deep in his soul?  The thought of her dead unnerved him, making it difficult to concentrate.  His meditations were filled with worries about her.  Why wouldn’t she contact him? Sitting beneath the waterfall, he tried to quiet his thoughts.  It was rather hard to.  Perhaps it was the impurities of his tainted body.  After all, he had engaged in pleasures of the flesh, which were frowned upon except in extreme circumstances.  The fact was, he had some sort of inkling that Naraku would be defeated, but he had gone ahead and lain with Sango anyway.  And he had enjoyed every moment of it.  If this was his punishment for that one transgression, then so be it. Time passed for him as he sat under the waterfall.  The exercise was to lose time but he was failing miserably.  All he could think about was her body against his.  Bowing his head, he began to cry, the waterfall washing away his tears. For a long time he sat, wallowing in his own pathetic worries.  Slowly he became aware that he wasn’t alone.  Even with all his sadness he could feel the presence of someone else.  Looking up, he stared at Sango’s form staring back at him from the bank of the stream.  Miroku got down from the rock he had been seated upon and sloshed his way to where she was, not taking his eyes from her.  “Are you a vision?”  His voice wavered, demanding explanation from her form.  If she was dead, was this the way she would appear to him? “Houshi-sama…?”  Sango gave him a soft smile. Miroku pulled himself out of the water and blinked down at her, taking in the scars on her face.  “Sango?” Bowing her head she stared down at her hands, not wanting to cause any more corruptness to his purity.  “It’s been a long time.” His arms wrapped around her, uncaring that he was drenching her with his waterlogged robes.  “I missed you so much.”  “You have?”  Sango blinked up at him, uncertainty in his eyes. “Yes… why wouldn’t I?”  “I know I look different…”  The demon slayer whispered, looking away with a blush.  “Demon slaying is hard work.” “You’re still beautiful to me.”  The monk replied, smiling at her.  His violet eyes twinkled in delight. Nervously she bit her lip and glanced up at him.  “Houshi-sama… there’s someone you have to meet.”  Guiltily she stepped away from his embrace and led him back towards the temple. Fear filled the monk’s heart thinking on whom that someone could be.  Why hadn’t he thought before that she could be married and that was why she hadn’t come back to see him?  Just because he took a vow of celibacy didn’t mean she had to.  It would be awkward for a wife to go visit an old lover once she was married.  As he followed her back to the temple, he tried to imagine what sort of man Sango would be married to.  Her husband would have to be a strong man.  There was no doubt in his mind about that. Sango stopped and smiled faintly at Mushin.  Miroku looked around, expecting to see the man of Sango’s life waiting there.  Instead he saw his master and… a child.  “Houshi-sama… this is your son, Miroku.” Miroku blinked at the little boy that blinked back at him.  The child had barely even seen four years.  “My… son?” “Yes… you remember from that night…” Sango stared down at her feet, embarrassed. “My son?  I have a son… and you didn’t tell me?”  Miroku stared at her, surprise in his eyes. “What difference does it make, Miroku?  She’s telling you now.  And he’s a smart boy, like you were at his age.”  Mushin was being used as a trampoline by the child as he spoke, clearly delighted at the boy’s antics. “I was afraid… I knew you were trying to go back to being a monk.  I didn’t know if having a child would dishonor you.”  Sango finally stared at him. “Sango… this is my son… born from you… I could never be dishonored by that.”  Staring at his old lover a moment longer, he abruptly turned and crossed the distance between himself and the child he had fathered.  “Hello there.” The boy regarded him shyly.  “Hello.” “My name is Miroku.  I am a monk.”  Holding out his hand to the child, he waited patiently for some response. The boy stumbled towards Miroku, trusting the hand that reached for him.  “I’m Miroku!”  The boy giggled with glee.  His arms wrapped around the child, pulling him tightly to his chest.  Everything about the boy reminded him of Sango… his scent, his spirit… and yet the monk’s spirit was there too.  The child held a power within him that only one of his own line could have.  Hugging the boy he stared at Sango who stood with tears in her eyes, watching him hold their child.  “I wish you had told me…” ^.~ “Are you married?”  His voice was soft as he sat across from her in the temple he lived at with his master. Sango bowed her head and slowly shook it.  “I didn’t want to…” “So you’ve been raising our son on your own…” “He’s happy and healthy.”  “I’m his father…” “Yes.” Miroku made a face.  “No, I meant… he holds a piece of my family’s powers within him.  It will be hard for him unless he’s trained to handle it.” Sango blinked up at him.  “You would take my son from me?” “No… I would… live with you if you let me.  I could train him… and be his father.” Sango bit her lip and looked away.  “I don’t think I can do that.  I’ve shared too much with you.  I don’t think I could live as your…” “As my what?  My wife?”  The monk whispered. “You would take me as your wife?”  For a moment she seemed surprised.  “How else would we live?” “As your friend.  After what we’ve done… what we’ve shared I don’t think I could go back to being just a friend to you.” “You can’t be my friend?”  Miroku stared at her a moment.  “Houshi-sama…”  Her voice was soft and tender as her brown eyes focused on his face.  “There’s something else you should know…”  Tugging on the collar of her kimono, she let the garment fall away, revealing one pale shoulder.  A festering scar crossed over her shoulder to her back, marring her skin.  “The poison in this wound will kill me.” Miroku’s eyes stared dully at her wound.  “Oh, Sango…” “It’s all a part of being a demon slayer.”  Sniffling slightly, she met his gaze with a gentle smile.  “We are either killed in battle or by wounds like this.  There’s no way to heal it.  The healer in the village thinks I have about a month or so.” The monk reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body tightly against his own.  “Houshi… Miroku… What’s going to happen to my baby?”  Sango sobbed in his arms.  “I’m all he’s ever known.  I can’t just leave him behind.”  The young woman wailed against the monk’s strong chest, clinging to him in desperation as if he held all the answers.  “He’s my child too.  I promise he’ll never want for anything.”  Miroku whispered, lightly kissing her cheek.  “Sango… stay with me.  For this little time we have left… be my wife.” Slowly she nodded, letting her tears soak into his robes.  ^.~ Before dawn Miroku woke, uncertainly looking to the woman who slept beside him.  On her other side lay their child, curled up and snoring softly.  The monk tenderly pushed the boy’s bangs from his face before turning his attention back to his wife.  Sango lay perfectly still.  No breath moved her chest.  Gently he gathered her lifeless body in his arms, cradling her against his chest.  ^.~ “You’re not training him to be a monk?”  Master Mushin asked, watching the small boy playing in the water.   “My family curse is healed.  There’s no reason to subject him to the discipline.”  Miroku replied, keeping a close eye on his son.  “Besides… his mother was a demon slayer.  He should be given the right to chose his own life path.” “Father, look what I found!”  The boy giggled with glee as he ran to Miroku, his kimono was soaking wet from playing in the stream. Miroku took the small rock from his son.  “It’s very pretty.  Should we offer it to Mama?”  The boy nodded eagerly, following his father to the grave of his mother.  The rock was passed back to the boy and the little one made the proper gestures in respect to his mother.  When he was through he ran back to the temple. Miroku stood for a long moment, staring down at the grave with a look of sadness and regret in his eyes before turning to follow his son. Back to the Gallery