Chapter Text
“What happened?” Kagome tried not to roll her eyes at the way her roommate’s face flushed bright pink or the way that her eyes were bugging out of her head. She knew what was coming.
“He’s just—he’s just the worst ever!” Sango’s snarl confirmed what Kagome suspected.
Sango had been talking—no, talking was not the right word, yelling was more to the point—about Miroku. Again. For the three hundred thousandth time. Because Sango only turned this shade of pink when the smooth-talking religious studies major was involved.
“Okay, but… what happened?” Kagome tried one more time.
“She’s the most judgmental person I have ever met.” Miroku only snarled like this when he was talking about one person. “I didn’t even talk about my night with Eri, she just—she just assumed.”
Inuyasha nodded his head like he always did. Because this rant was common. Obviously, Miroku had been alone in a place with Sango, and had said something stupid, and had pissed her off. Again. Because Miroku always put his foot in his mouth when the physical therapy major was involved.
“So, you didn’t sleep with Eri?” Inuyasha asked. He already knew the answer.
“Well, naturally when she… asked to come up…”
There it was.
“So why was Sango yelling at you if you didn’t talk about it?” Inuyasha already knew the answer to this one too.
“Well, Eri left… something… on the couch.” Miroku at least had the good sense to look ashamed. “Sango needed to pick up her math book and…” Miroku had the gall to chuckle, “black lace is fairly noticeable…”
“For fuck’s sake!” Inuyasha grumbled. He was going to need to escape soon to keep his sanity, but unfortunately, Miroku had already begun the sex-shaming Sango-themed tirade.
“We need to do something.” Kagome fiddled with her french fry, staring at her boyfriend from across the table; his ears were pinned back but his attention was all on her, though Kagome did not miss his amber eyes darting down toward her plate. “About… the situation.”
She and Sango used to talk about things, like homework or the new hiking trail, or what they would do with a million dollars. Now, though? All Sango seemed to do was rant. About Miroku. Who (unfortunately) mostly deserved it.
But Kagome never missed the longing in Sango’s face when she ranted about him, or that a little tinge of a blush came over her face as she called him a player or a playboy or a womanizer or a manwhore (though that was saved for special occasions when she was really drunk. It was also when she usually admitted that she was lonely.)
“Fucking right,” Inuyasha nodded at his girlfriend. He and Kagome had been saying this now for months—years?—because it was the only thing that either of their friends could talk about now: each other, and why they hated each other. “Seriously though, we need to get them to fuck.”
“Inuyasha!” Kagome mock-gasped, then stuffed the fry into her mouth. “How?”
“We’ve been talkin’ about goin’ upstate, what, since your freshman year?” Inuyasha leaned in conspiratorially, while also swiping one of Kagome’s fries. “Campfires and s’mores and starlit nights alone?” Inuyasha crunched the fry, then grabbed another one.
“Camping, huh?” Kagome asked, raising an eyebrow both at her adorable boyfriend stealing her fries, and because her mind had already started to work. “I’d bet that we could get those two together by the end of the trip.”
“How?” Inuyasha asked, somehow having polished off over half of her fries already.
“I’m already concocting a plan,” Kagome answered, “but before I tell you, you owe me another order of fries.”
“Betrayer,” Sango whispered in the bathroom at the rest stop.
“What are you talking about?” Kagome’s face was far too innocent for the accusation. It was proof that she and Inuyasha had conspired to make Sango’s life miserable.
“When you invited me, you neglected to mention…” Sango growled—Sango needed to growl, “that he was going to come too.”
“Are you saying that I get to invite my best friend and Inuyasha doesn’t also get to invite his?” Yes, conspiracy confirmed.
“This is a set up.” Sango hated Kagome. She really did. She had half a mind to hitchhike back to school and then steal all of Kagome’s good ramen and replace it with bad ramen. Just to make sure that she was spiting Inuyasha too.
…But then Miroku would win.
And she would not let that playboy jerkface win.
At least he hadn’t brought a floozie of the week.
“Sango, we’ve been talking about going camping and going canoeing for years,” Kagome moaned. “So we are going to camp and canoe! It’s going to be fun.”
“You do know that you are sleeping in the tent with me,” Sango snarled; it wasn’t a request.
“Sure, sure.” Kagome rolled her eyes. “Sleep with me, make the boys snore with each other. Got it.”
There was something about the casual way that Kagome said it that had Sango’s hackles up. Kagome knew that she hated Miroku. She told Kagome all the time just how much she hated Miroku. A refrain, really. He was a player. Didn’t Kagome remember the incident with the red underwear? Because Sango remembered the incident with the red underwear.
“He goes through girls like they’re ticks on some stupid macho scorecard,” Sango said, the last words she could say before she and Kagome exited the bathroom. “Fuck 10, get 1 free.”
Sango smiled at Kagome’s answering giggle. Because Miroku did go through women the way normal people went through bagel rewards cards. True, he never seemed to date two women at once, and he never talked shit about the women he was dating, but there was just such a damn stream of them.
Sango had only had one boyfriend. Kura Takeda.
He’d been nice…
…until he wasn’t.
And that was that.
So why was it that when she closed her eyes at night, safe with nothing more than her own thoughts, did she think about the smooth baritone that always seemed to be speaking as if singing a lullaby? Why did her mind wander to the disheveled black hair and the dimpled smirk?
Or the muscles hidden expertly under his shirt? Or the way that his indigo eyes could penetrate through her, projecting sensuality and seduction without so much as a quirk of the eyebrow?
Miroku was an unwelcome invader of her mind.
Hence the hating him.
“We should get some food for the road.” Kagome nudged Sango as they emerged into the fluorescent bath of the service mega-station. “Inuyasha probably ate half of what we had for the drive already.”
“Fine,” Sango said, trying not to make it obvious that she was looking for… someone. “Just get me whatever.”
“Anything I can get you, my lady?” Sango flinched at the lullaby voice that came from behind her; how had she missed him (...especially after ‘not looking’ for him)?
“I have my own money, thank you.” Sango tried not to look angry, or flushed, or flustered. She was fine. Just the closest unattached female at the moment for Inuyasha’s perverted friend.
“But the fun of offering to get you something is to know I did something nice for a pretty lady,” Miroku crooned.
“You’re so full of it.” Sango stormed away, plucking two or three bags of she-was-not-sure from the rack and storming up to the counter. She would be paying for the food herself, thankyouverymuch. Even as, when she looked down, she realized that she’d picked up three bags of frosting-covered pretzels. And they looked disgusting. But at least she was away from Miroku.
“Looks like that went well.” Miroku heard the rasping giggle of his best friend behind him. “Maybe lay off laying it on so thick?”
“You met your soulmate while you were still in high school, dog,” Miroku growled. “You have about as much game as a drunk monk.”
“Keh.” Inuyasha crossed his arms, the damn smirk still planted on his face. “If you really want Sango to think of you as more than a rat turd, you’re gonna have to stop treating her like your next fuckin’ trophy.”
Miroku sighed. What the hell was he supposed to say? That Sango was the first woman that rattled him? That his moves failed spectacularly on her because every time he tried, she shut down or called him a prick? That he was too scared to actually be honest with her about how he felt?
That he hated the way she looked at him when Inuyasha or Kagome asked about the girlfriend-of-the-week or what happened this time when he let the girl know that he was just not feeling it? (Often—always—because he kept comparing them to Sango?)
Apparently, a canoeing and camping trip had been the answer. The trial-by-fire of becoming not a rat turd. If he could handle it.
Because Sango could make him so angry! He never used the women he dated. Ever. His rules were simple and laid out in advance: he had some issues with long-term relationships and took care of his women in bed. Commitment really wasn’t on the table, but that usually was what both he and his partners wanted. It wasn’t like he disrespected any of them like Sango claimed he did. And on those rare occasions that he did find himself on the receiving end of a very angry paramour, it was not because he’d misled them so much as them misleading themselves…
So snide comments about girls of the week and whether he’d be able to keep it in his pants long enough to actually have an intelligent conversation with someone of the opposite gender were not appreciated. Just because he got tongue-tied and fell into old habits when he tried to talk to the lithe brunette beauty with the soulful shimmering chestnut eyes and the full pink lips and the body of Aphrodite… she didn’t have to make him feel like shit.
Flirting didn’t work with Sango.
Nothing did.
“You ready?” Kagome’s bright face broke Miroku’s frown, that was until he saw the scowl on the face next to Kagome: Sango’s scowl.
“Yes,” Miroku said, letting his shoulders slump as he headed toward the check-out, five bottles of sweet tea in his hand: the peach version he knew was Sango’s favorite.
“So tell me: what exactly are we doing?” Sango popped out of Inuyasha’s SUV, on her way to an overly woodsy building enthusiastically titled Happy Trails Canoe and Outdoor Recreation, which was on the edge of the lake that she surmised was their destination. “And do they not even recognize the double entendre in their name?”
Artwork commission by noether3
Miroku giggled at her words, which led Sango to shoot him a daggered gaze.
“I think it’s quaint.” Kagome nudged Sango as their feet crunched on the pine needles up to the red-painted “log” cabin with the Freudian name. “And we rented the canoes and are going to paddle out to our own personal campsite in the middle of a lake! It’s going to be so much fun!”
“Have you ever canoed before?” Sango asked; she thought that she already knew the answer, but wanted to check.
“I haven’t, but Inuyasha has,” Kagome shrugged, but Sango did not miss the mischievous little sparkle in her friend’s eyes. “And you too, right, Sango?”
Sango knew it. Knew that a fun vacation couldn’t just be a fun vacation when Kagome Higurashi was involved. There needed to be a scheme, and she was extremely suspicious that she knew exactly what that scheme was.
“Let me guess,” Sango hissed into Kagome’s ear; she knew Inuyasha could hear—wanted Inuyasha to hear, actually. “The experienced people are sharing canoes with the inexperienced people. And you’ll be in the canoe with Inuyasha.”
“I mean, it makes the most sense, right?” Kagome’s reply: entirely too innocent.
“I’m hitchhiking home.” Sango tried to turn around, only to find a vice grip on her arm.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Kagome tugged as she said it, returning Sango to her side. “We are going to have fun as a group of friends who deserves a nice camping trip together.”
“You’re taking me hostage. I just want to make sure that you understand this,” Sango growled, but she stopped fighting. The determination on Kagome’s face made clear it was a losing battle.
“Why are you so hostile about this?” Kagome pressed, driving a blush to Sango’s face.
“You know why.” She enunciated every word so clearly they came out as individual jabs at her friend. But that didn’t keep Sango’s eyes from drifting to the raven hair tied back in a half-up ponytail walking with Inuyasha just ahead of them.
“Well, if after a weekend of fun away from all the… distractions… doesn’t do all of us good,” Kagome whispered, “then I will never bring it up again.”
Kagome and Sango both knew that was a lie.
“Make sure you always have at least one personal flotation device per canoe occupant! I know you all can swim, but you never know when Bessie is gonna come by and shake that canoe!” The sandy-haired man with the vacant smile was standing entirely too close to the curvy, curly-haired, round-faced girl, who shared a similarly vacant smile. Miroku rolled his eyes.
Had they really just made a cheesy joke about their backwoods little lake having a Loch Ness Monster? (Yes… yes they had.)
“Now let’s see… day canoers head over there with Ayumi, and I’ll take the group who will be heading to Hosenki’s Island!” the overly cheerful man said.
Miroku watched Kagome bound up to him, followed rapidly by Inuyasha, who possessively put his arm around her. Miroku rolled his eyes—as if anyone couldn’t tell that Kagome only had eyes for the silver-haired half-demon. But it was still amusing.
It flashed images of Sango walking up to the guide in exactly the same way Kagome had just done so.
Yup. Miroku would have done exactly the same thing.
Well, if Sango didn’t hate his guts.
God, he was hopeless.
“Look at the merry foursome!” the man chirped; Miroku officially hated him. “Alright, I have your maps and hmmm—ladies you both look to be smalls and the gentlemen are larges—your PFDs will be in the canoe and could we interest you in the add-on camping package? With two tents and a—“
“We’re fine,” Inuyasha growled, which earned him a little elbow from Kagome.
“We have all the supplies we need, uhm…” she looked at the smiley-faced name tag on the man’s polo shirt, “Hōjō. But thank you!”
“Have you been canoeing before?” Hōjō asked, his eyes wide and blank, but a smile that seemed to indicate that he was excited that Kagome had said his name; Miroku stifled the laugh that wanted to break from him at the sight of Inuyasha’s pinned back ears.
“Yes.” Inuyasha pulled Kagome behind him and stood tall enough that now Hōjō had to look up to make eye contact. Silly man clearly did not understand how territorial dog demons were.
“Alrighty!” Hōjō took a step back, then scurried over to grab the brochures and maps. “Follow me and I’ll get you all suited up and ready!”
“Heck yes!” Kagome whooped, and grabbed Sango. “I don’t know about you but I have plans for that nice clear water in the hot weather.”
Sango tried to retort, but like usual, Kagome’s grip on her could crush metal. The girl was trapping her in a canoe with Miroku, who almost certainly did not know the first thing about paddling or steering, who would probably fill the time with chatter and pick-up lines.
Sango almost didn’t want to change into her swimsuit.
Almost.
Because, more, Sango did want to change into her swimsuit.
Maybe that would be how she would get him to shut his dumb mouth.
Sango tried to hide the sneer as she changed into her red bikini. It had been a splurge, and one she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to make, but everyone deserved to be able to feel like they could be the girls from Ipanema from time to time. And that it fit her perfectly and made her feel a little bit sexy? That was one heck of a bonus.
Sango threw her light cream frock over herself and walked back out of the bathroom, unsurprised to see Kagome donning her emerald green string bikini. The two walked arm-in-arm out to the dock, to the two canoes that Inuyasha and Miroku were loading with their supplies. As she approached the dock, Sango pulled her frock closed, using her arms to hide as much skin as she could. She wasn’t too worried about Inuyasha seeing her like this, that man only had eyes for Kagome, and Miroku—well, Miroku deserved to get befuddled by her appearance. But there was blank-eyed Hōjō, staring at her now bare legs as she plodded out to the dock.
He didn’t seem as innocuous anymore, looking at her like that, as he handed Inuyasha the maps.
Suddenly a body was next to her and had thrown an arm around her.
“Thanks for all your help Hōjō, but we’ve got it from here.” Hōjō’s eyes immediately snapped away from Sango’s skin and up to the person—Miroku—who had stepped up to protect her from his eyes.
Sango needed to play it cool. Needed to make the blush on her face disappear, to go with the ruse. But her gut twisted at his warmth, and her heart beat out of her chest. She wanted to shove him away and tell him to keep his perverted hands to himself. But worse? She wanted him to keep his arm exactly where it was.
“Okie dokie! You all have a wonderful stay! And we’ll expect you back on Monday!” Hōjō scurried past the pair, sparing them both only a single look as he left the dock.
As soon as Hōjō was out of sight, Sango shoved Miroku’s arm off of hers.
“I didn’t need you to defend me,” she growled, storming toward the canoe she just knew that he had no idea how to operate.
“I never said you did,” Miroku retorted, but the second he made eye contact, his eyes widened and he swallowed. Then, slowly, painfully, Miroku’s eyes seemed to fight his better sense and trailed down to take in the skin Sango was revealing.
“Wow.” Sango should not have smirked, she should not have, but… well, she couldn’t help it. “Congratulations. You’ve discovered a bathing suit.”
“You’re the one who put it on! It’s not like I w—wanted to look…” Miroku’s eyes snapped back to Sango’s eyes, but it was too late. His face was red and the corner of one of those indigo eyes was twitching.
“I know it’s not as much skin as you are accustomed to seeing on the female form,” Sango snapped—oooh, she had been waiting for this!— “but I wanted to swim. So it’s not like I can hide it from you perv—“
“Knock it off,” Inuyasha barked at them both, abruptly cutting Sango off. “You look good in a bathing suit Sango (not as good as my girl, but still), and Miroku is not a pervert for noticing you look good.” Now it was both of their turns to stutter and turn red. “Map is in the canoe, along with your shit. Let's try to get away from Captain Happy and to the island before lunchtime, kay?”
“Fine.” Instead of just hearing her own voice growl, it was shared with another deeper voice. For some reason, hearing the same petulance lace Miroku’s voice as her own made her feel better.
When she looked at him, the hard eyes he had thrown toward Inuyasha’s receding figure had softened when he looked at her, and she could tell that he was trying not to take another peek at her bikini.
“So, you’ve never canoed before, huh?” Sango crossed her arms, letting an amused frown paint her face.
“No I haven’t,” Miroku answered, then sighed, “but I’m willing to learn.”
“Okay.” Sango walked down the dock and handed Miroku a paddle, which he accepted. “If you don’t piss me off, maybe I can even teach you a thing or two.”
“I’ll do my best,” Miroku shrugged. “Lead the way, Sango.”
As Sango climbed in, she thought to herself, maybe this wasn’t going to be an awful vacation after all.