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“Sorry for making you wait this long. I had to make sure I grabbed enough supplies.”
Kagome's apology, emerging from inside the well, caught Sango off guard. For the past hour or so, she had been seating next to the wooden enclosure, her gaze drifting aimlessly towards the noon sky. Rising from her spot, she lent a hand to the younger girl so she could step out and then helped her carry the large backpack she often brought from her home in the future.
A few hours earlier, Inuyasha had requested to borrow Kirara, wanting to reach Totosai's lair as quickly as possible. The hanyou was fully convinced that only the youkai swordsmith possessed the knowledge of a technique capable of breaching any powerful shield, which was exactly what they needed now that they knew Naraku had become stronger.
Kagome had taken the opportunity to replenish her first aid kit –most recently used to patch up Inuyasha’s injuries– and bring along any other kind of goods that could prove useful on the road. Having tended to her weapons the moment she woke up, and with nothing else to do, Sango had decided to stay near the time portal.
“Where are Shippo and Lord Miroku?” Kagome broke the silence as she usually did, scanning the area. Sango tried her best to hide her slight discontent when she heard that one name. “They were here before I jumped into the well.”
“Lady Kaede came by earlier and took Shippo with her to tend her herb garden,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage. The words that next escaped her lips, however, had a bitter undertone. “The monk excused himself a few minutes after that, but he never said where he was going. He’s probably courting any of the village girls as we speak. Honestly, I don’t understand how he can find the time or energy to fool around after witnessing firsthand how powerful Naraku is getting”.
Sango bit the corner of her lower lip, attempting to contain the frustration that had been brewing ever since she had been told to stay behind to protect Kagome and the elder priestess. She decided her wounded warrior pride and the fact that their shared enemy was once again two steps ahead were the only things currently stirring her heart, the mental image of a grinning Miroku attempting to bed willing women was definitely just an afterthought. After all, her focus needed to be directed only towards killing the monster behind the tragedy that had changed her life.
“Um, I don’t approve of those kinds of distractions, don’t get me wrong, but it got me thinking…” Kagome started fidgeting, yet the look on her face was the same you could expect from a soldier about to cross a battlefield, cautious yet determined, “…we don’t know how long it will take for Inuyasha to master whatever it is that Master Totosai is willing to share. And I thought that maybe we could take this small chance to talk about anything other than Naraku. For our own sanity”.
The slayer stopped in her tracks, not knowing how to proceed. On one hand, the urgency she felt whenever Kohaku –still an unwilling slave, his life attached to the frailty of a Shikon shard and Naraku’s cruel whims– crossed her mind was consistently latent, hard to ignore. On the other, there was some truth in what her friend had just said.
The more she worried right now, the more she would get nowhere. They had all temporarily deposited their hopes in Inuyasha and his sword, the least they could do was to mentally prepare themselves for the journey ahead. Perhaps a healthy interference was what she needed.
She took a deep breath, finally conceding. “Alright, what do you have in mind?”
A hint of relaxation could be seen in the time-traveling girl’s eyes as she started recounting to Sango what sort of weird illnesses her grandfather had made up to justify her absence at school, or how proud she had recently felt for having outdone her own personal time record in track field one day during P.E. class –whatever that meant– in spite of being presented as frail.
Their walking pace had slowed down almost to stillness as they enjoyed their mundane chat, with the slayer asking Kagome about life in her world, more than she’d previously done, and to her own surprise.
When was the last time they had such a conversation? Was it right before the incident with the princess in the mountain? Her heart felt heavier at the mere brush of the memory, but she decided to ignore it in the meantime.
“Today while I was out buying stuff at the convenience store, I saw this,” Kagome procured a rectangular object –considerably thinner than her schoolbooks– from her backpack, “and I couldn’t resist bringing it back here. Would you like to see the definitive source of wisdom my world has to offer to girls our age?”
Now Sango was intrigued. What exactly was this colorful stack of scrolls, and could it really hold valuable information intended just for young women?
“It’s called a teen magazine,” Kagome explained almost too enthusiastically. Was it Sango’s impression or did Kagome look like she was scheming something? “And it’s filled with photos of the latest fashion trends, useful advice in all sorts of fields, the latest gossip…”
“Kagome, what’s a photo?”
An apologetic laugh came out of her interlocutor, who promptly explained each one of the foreign concepts she had just introduced to the youkai slayer. Sango now knew that the unnervingly hyperrealistic painting of two women clad in strange clothes at the front of the teen magazine was in fact not made by an impossibly talented ink artist, but instead it was a real-life image captured by a device Kagome had simply called camera. She now knew what kind of gossip was relevant to Kagome’s contemporaries too, and what words like article or ad meant.
Sango admired each of the pages Kagome showed her, particularly entrapped by the variety of colorful clothing displayed on what her friend had dubbed “the fashion segment”. There were plenty of trousers cut above thigh height and short skirts, almost as short as Kagome’s, that despite being a tad too revealing, she figured they would prove useful in combat. The girl beside her squealed as she pointed towards different garments that, in her opinion, would look fantastic on Sango.
This was definitely a nice change of pace and topic, and soon enough Sango felt herself oddly caring about the dating rumors surrounding two movie stars, even if it felt impossible to her that humans had managed to create advanced devices that displayed moving pictures. Although, if Kagome had managed to travel back in time through a well, maybe motion pictures weren’t an insane idea.
But hey, what about the life-solving advice that was mentioned before?
“Oh, that.” Kagome beamed at her. “Sango, do you promise to not get mad at me if I read you an article?”
“Why would I get mad at you for that?”
“It’s something I’ve been dying to talk about with you. This article was advertised on the cover, and it’s also the reason I bought this magazine in the first place.”
There was something ominous about the unknown direction the conversation was heading, and based on gut feeling alone, Sango tensed. Why did Lady Kaede’s hut suddenly felt so far despite being so close? “I promise I won’t get mad.”
“It’s about Lord Miroku. I think he likes you as much as you like him.”
The string of sentences hit her like a bucket of ice-cold water. This was a surprise attack she wasn’t trained to dodge. She felt herself voicing the words what makes you think I have feelings for that monk, but they, in fact, never left her throat.
Seemingly reading her mind, Kagome shot her a knowing glance. “I confirmed it the moment you got ready to go after him back at the village with the missing men. Inuyasha still thinks I’m wrong, but I’m sure you two almost had a moment right there,” she clasped the open magazine against her chest with dreamy eyes, “and just so you know, I’m totally rooting for you.”
Sango’s eye twitched at both the mention of the godforsaken mountain that had made her feel so vulnerable and the realization that her feelings apparently weren’t as carefully hidden as she had initially come to believe.
She sighed deeply and tried again, this time twisting her initial defense, aware that Kagome wouldn’t back down on her ridiculous claim. “What makes you think he feels anything for me? You saw what happened. I’m just another piece of meat to grab with his damned perverted hands”
And it seems like that’s what I’ll always be for him, she apathetically thought to herself.
“Yes, he ruined it. But it was so close, Sango! Besides…” she enthusiastically pointed at the smiling teen magazine girls “…the greatest source of wisdom from my time agrees with me!”
A groan escaped Sango’s mouth as she contemplated her options. She could try deflecting the topic towards Kagome’s own weaknesses –namely Inuyasha–, or maybe she could just flee the scene in a fit of flustered indignation. No, she thought, I can tell she’s not going to let this go, and doing something like that would just prove her point further.
She then settled for another course of action: she would confront the young priestess, to prove all of that supposed futuristic wisdom to be as fake as the demonic aura the monk claimed to feel around the richest household of any village they happened to come across. Indeed, this would also be the perfect way to finally convince herself that she shouldn’t pursue any chimeras.
“Go on, read your article,” her brown eyes gleamed almost defiantly, although her voice retained a composure that felt incredibly forced. “Share the insights of the future with me.”
Their original destination was now in sight, but the young women decided to delay their return until they settled their argument. Kagome flicked the pages of the magazine in a flash, and after explaining to Sango what the modern concept of a crush entailed, she began curating the contents of the article.
“If your crush seems interested in knowing a lot about you or what your interests are, then it means he’s into you” Kagome read out loud dramatically. “Don’t you remember all those times Lord Miroku was curious about your slayer tools, or about your training routines? He’s very subtle about it, but even I could tell he…”
If this was her first blow, then Sango knew this was going to be an easy victory.
“All of those were attempts at small talk by a campfire, it’s very normal to ask the newest member of your group about such things,” she interrupted. “He was merely assessing my battle skills and my knowledge, and he was right to do so. Besides, even you and the others have asked me something similar in the past.”
Not denying it, but not pressing it further, Kagome sighed as she summarized the next item.
“Okay, then how about this? ‘If he’s always looking for excuses to spend time with you or constantly tries to help you out, then it’s a definitive sign he’s interested’.” Her lips curled in a self-satisfactory smile, certain that there wouldn’t be a rebuttal on behalf of the slayer. “I’ve noticed how he naturally orbits you, it’s like you two are joined by the hip. And the help? Don’t you remember, for example, the way he protected you during the battle with Juromaru and Kageromaru?”
Sango mirrored Kagome’s smugness, taking advantage of the huge opening the latter had inadvertedly provided.
“Key word, battle. With Inuyasha either by your side or always making the first move by himself without warning, it’s only normal that we join forces. We’re all a team, we have to look for each other’s backs. Outside of that and riding together on Kirara for faster transportation, he seems happy wandering away from me to look for women to bear his children.”
The junior high student blinked in response, but she still gave no discernable signs of giving up on her matchmaking quest. It oddly reminded Sango of a small yet very persistent youkai she exterminated when she was only thirteen years of age: calm dark eyes assessing how to hunt for its prey, claws ready to dig into flesh if anything dared to move abruptly.
“Then what about the time he sucked in Naraku’s saimyosho so that Inuyasha could chase after me and Kohaku? He was mostly concerned about you, and I recall he even predicted your plans. It’s the little things, Sango. Lord Miroku notices.”
And just like when she was younger and barely experienced, she had received an unexpected wound because of her overconfidence. Sango had replayed the scenario Kagome mentioned a considerable number of times in her head, both because of the impotence she’d felt at the prospect of her dear brother killing the girl in front of her as if he were a mere puppet, and because of how guilty she felt over the monk getting himself poisoned partially for her sake.
“That was a foolish thing to do,” she managed to say, “but I’m sure it’s part of his compassionate nature. Even a lecher like him has his moments.”
Kagome’s gaze softened, realizing she had touched one of the subjects she’d wanted to avoid since the start of their conversation. It wasn’t her intention to make her relive that painful memory, she only wanted to show Sango how obvious it was that Miroku cared deeply for her despite his antics. After whispering an apology, she tried to clear out the gloomy atmosphere before it spiraled down any further.
“This one is something I’ve witnessed”, she smiled after noticing how Sango’s eyes had mellowed down from a defensive stance into measured curiosity. “It says here that your crush is guaranteed to like you back if he keeps staring at you, especially when he thinks you can’t notice.”
“Does he now?” Sango felt her walls coming down slightly, as her inner hunger for confirmation that the pull she felt towards the man of the cloth wasn’t entirely hopeless grew against her wishes.
“Like I told you, he’s extremely subtle about it, but nothing can compare to a woman’s intuition!” The glee and confidence emanating from Kagome’s voice were almost contagious, but Sango still pretended to appear unaffected. “Plenty of nights after you slapped him for ruining the mood, he kept staring at where you slept. He always had this weird, conflicted look all over his face, as if he wanted you to forgive him. He probably thought no one could tell in the dark, but I happened to be awake every single time.”
The slayer shook her head. That was way too convenient. Wouldn’t it be possible that Kagome was also deluding herself into believing there was more to the monk’s behavior? She had said so herself: it was always dark whenever she happened to catch him staring at Sango, so perhaps it was just her wishful thinking.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Kagome sighed once more, this time with slight exasperation. “I’d just love for you and Lord Miroku to give yourselves a chance, you really seem to be a great match.”
The more Kagome demonstrated her support for what she’d called “a chance at romance”, the more Sango wanted to protest and deny all of it. There really was no need for her stupid feelings to flourish. A romance right now was unthinkable and impractical. She recalled all of the difficult moments that the group had to endure because of Kagome’s very own love life but felt it would be cruel to bring it up as her ultimate defense. She also recalled, bitterly, the true reason behind fate bringing them all together.
“Okaaay, I tried”, the younger girl pouted. “I brought you the authority for matters of the heart and you still won’t budge. But that’s fine, I support you no matter what. That’s what friends are for, even if you’re almost as dense as Inuyasha.”
Guilty, Sango clenched her jaw as she avoided the chocolate eyes for a moment. She still couldn’t understand why it was bothering her so much that she couldn’t bring herself to admit all of her feelings, unfiltered. The girl had all the good intentions in the world, and it was obvious that she needed a confidante. But it was so much better and so much easier to bottle everything up, not bothering anyone…
“I don’t want this to turn awkward, shall we go? It’s almost lunch time.” Kagome’s gesture was soothing as she closed the magazine and carefully put it back in her backpack. Sango prayed that this conversation hadn’t somehow soured the priestess’ view on her.
A concerning silence deepened between them until they reached the hut, only to be interrupted by the excited shouts of one little kitsune and the polite greetings of an old woman.
“Kagome, you’re back! What did you bring this time?!” Sango had never appreciated the kid’s presence or overenthusiasm this much until now. Shippo hopped towards Kagome, landing on her shoulder and flooding the girl with questions and recounts of his gardening adventure –even if they hadn’t been separated for that long.
Inside of Lady Kaede’ place, the smell of the vegetable stew slowly starting to cook in the hearth filled the air. Sango located her Hiraikotsu, carefully positioned in a corner, turning to polish it once more as a way to shelter herself from having to act as if nothing had happened with Kagome. Shippo playfully blew bubbles with the small artifact the young priestess had bought for him, with the aforementioned girl clapping and laughing along. The monk was still nowhere to be seen, and Sango still dared to pretend it didn’t bother her in the slightest.
Soon, this relative calm was interrupted by two agitated villagers entering, asking for Lady Kaede’s immediate assistance with a little girl who had broken her arm in an accident. The elder prompted Kagome to come along with her, alleging that it was good for her to put in practice her healing knowledge for fractures in case they needed it in the future. Dutifully, Kagome grabbed her first aid kit, and out they went –Shippo included–, leaving Sango happy to oblige as the watchout for their meal and their belongings.
After a few minutes of dreadful quietness, Sango finally let her giant weapon alone, concluding she would damage it if she kept carelessly rubbing it more than necessary. She let another one of her long, affected sighs out as she contemplated what to do next. Her eyes glanced around the room, setting on Kagome’s yellow backpack. She hadn’t held the teen magazine in her own hands, and, as far as she could tell, Kagome never finished showing its contents to her. Feeling a little silly, she grabbed the booklet, marveling at the glossiness of the paper. There was no harm in taking a peek, wasn’t it?
Mimicking the owner of the magazine, Sango slowly flipped the pages and let herself be recaptured by this strange world that had opened before her eyes. She tried her luck reading some of the articles on her own. As the daughter of the chief of the village, she naturally was instructed on how to read and write to ensure dealings with the outside world and record any valuable information on youkai slaying, albeit she admitted her skills weren’t as advanced as she’d like.
Unaccustomed with the occasional horizontal layout of the characters engraved on the paper, and unfamiliar with some more intricate kanji and sharp-edged kana she’d never encountered before, she opted for just contemplating the pictures instead.
As she pondered what kind of music would the large and strange-looking lute on the photograph of what Kagome had called a rock band play, she gasped when her eyes caught a glimpse of the following page. Right there, in all of its multicolored and realistic glory, a man who resembled Miroku smiled at her. Except it wasn’t him, of course.
With her heart fluttering all of a sudden, she inspected the advertisement to discern the differences and similarities between the man trapped inside the photo and her travel companion. What had thrown her off was his haircut, which was essentially the same as the monk’s: black hair, above shoulder length, but neatly tied up in a small ponytail. The stranger was also wearing metallic earrings, although each earlobe sported a single ring instead of the mismatched number on Miroku’s.
When did I even memorize his accessories? She thought, mortified. Clearing her throat, she returned her gaze to the magazine page.
The features and build of the man in the ad were all different, too. He seemed leaner, his jaw looked sharper, his eyes were the wrong color, his eyebrows were too plucked, his skin looked unnaturally unblemished, both of his hands were whole and uncovered, but most importantly his smile lacked the mischievous spark that both infuriated and enchanted her. Still, her index finger absentmindedly traced over the figure, caressing the tree pulp paper, deep down wishing the real Miroku took the place of this impostor from the future.
Why had things become so needlessly complicated for her? Was she at fault for harboring the secret hope that she was special enough for him?
And just as if she had loudly summoned him with her mind, the familiar jangle of Miroku’s staff announced his sudden entrance into the hut. She dropped the magazine, feeling blood rush towards her cheeks. He, in turn, raised an eyebrow at her.
“It had never crossed my mind that you were fond of scholarly pursuits, dear Sango,” he said with a hint of playful curiosity in his deep blue eyes.
Her embarrassment was quickly replaced by irritation. Was he underestimating her? “What makes you think I wouldn’t enjoy reading? Just because I’m not a noblewoman, it doesn’t mean that I’m illiterate and that I…”
After leaving his staff next to Hiraikotsu, Miroku rose his palms up as if he were the victim of an unfair attack and interrupted her: “I never questioned your capacities, I just figured you were more of an action woman given your line of work,” he sighed solemnly, following with half a smirk. “Although it’s good to know you can keep on surprising me.”
Did this imply he believed he had already figured her out? Or did it suggest he desired to learn more about her? Kagome’s voice annoyingly resonated somewhere in her mind. If your crush seems interested in knowing a lot about you or what your interests are, then it means he’s into you.
No, this was just another instance of small talk. Perhaps some light flirting, she conceded, but not enough to consider it a definitive proof of something else going on.
“May I?” The monk inquired, pointing to a spot near the hearth where she currently sat at. It wasn’t dangerously close, but it wasn’t that far either. She gave him an unconcerned nod, still battling the echoes of the magazine article inside her head.
Picking up the offending object before he could get his hands on it and eager to change the topic, Sango asked the question that had been chewing at her since earlier.
“Where were you?”
“It’s quite flattering, but you don’t have to worry about me all the time,” he teased before reaching out for something he kept in the inside of his robes. “I was making more of these. With Lady Kagome going back to her era to replenish her medicine box, I figured it would be wise for me to also be prepared for wherever our journey brings us next.”
This time it was Sango the one raising an eyebrow. Miroku was holding a stack of sutras, the black ink almost completely absorbed by the parchment paper. She’d seen him performing the task on more than one occasion in the past: it involved a meditative state and absolute silence, which is why he usually preferred doing it at nighttime with the aid of candlelight or the light coming from a campfire. And yet he’d always done it with his companions around, so why had he run away today? Something wasn’t adding up.
“You could’ve done that by the well, Lord Monk.,” she accused. “It seems to me that you had no luck with the women at the village and had to settle for another way to pass your time.”
Miroku crossed his arms, sliding the sutras into one of his sleeves, while closing his eyes and furrowing his brow. It was one of his usual gestures whenever he got caught. So, I was right after all, Sango thought with some disappointment.
Then, he swiftly recovered: “Well, in order to imbue these sacred sutras with my spiritual power I need to concentrate and,” he added a dramatic pause, capturing her hands and offering her a warm and intense stare, “quite frankly, with only you by my side it would have proved rather difficult.”
The slayer recoiled out of habit, a traitorous blush creeping once more across her face. Damn him and his flirtatious nature!
She tried her best to ignore that inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Kagome, telling her that the way he was looking at her right now was the real deal and not some empty courting. Busy with her inner turmoil, Sango didn’t notice the monk’s hands slithering towards her lap, managing to steal from her the magazine that had remained forgotten until now.
“Hey, give that back! This is Kagome’s book!” She couldn’t fathom the way he’d tease her the moment he came across his lookalike. She also remembered all the different beautiful girls that seemed to appear in almost every page and felt a pang of jealousy at the prospect of him ogling them.
“I can’t bear the intrigue, dear Sango. I must know what kind of literature would catch the attention of such a serious and dedicated warrior like you. Is this perhaps a war story? Poetry? Though, with those lovely girls on the painting upfront, it might be… erotica?” His smirk was insufferable.
In that very moment he seemed to be more agile than her, managing to dodge her hands that desperately tried to retrieve the magazine. A playful smile adorned his lips as he opened it at random. Sango’s heartbeats accelerated, quietly begging for him to land on a text article with little to no images. She decided to shorten the distance between them, just to have a better look.
Sango felt her spirit returning to her body when she caught sight of a continuous string of characters –the gods had finally answered her prayers, or so it seemed. Just in case, she locked her brown eyes onto him, attentive to any reaction the article would elicit.
Miroku narrowed his eyes, no doubt having some of the initial troubles Sango herself had when she tried reading moments before. The way his eyebrows came closer together in deep concentration and the visible struggle all over his mug were almost comical, and Sango found herself containing a chuckle.
“Seeing kunten like this makes me nostalgic, it reminds me of my childhood back at Mushin’s temple. But some of these words make no sense at all,” he confided without straying his gaze away from the text. “Sango, do you know what a…. cr…ush… is?”
The gods were cruel and intended to play with Sango’s heart. Of all the articles in this magazine, Miroku had landed precisely on the most dangerous one. And worst of all, he seemed to proficiently comprehend most of the characters on the damn pages, unlike her. She still had an advantage, so she feigned ignorance.
“This is the first time I hear of such a word,” she lied, restraining herself from nibling on her lips. “Are you really able to understand what’s written in there?”
“With some effort, I think I can get the gist of it,” the monk announced, barely hiding how proud deciphering the booklet made him feel. “This must be intended for maidens who are being pursued by a lover, and thus a piece of useful literature indeed.”
Sango rolled her eyes. Although his observations lacked more context on the real meaning behind the article, it didn’t make it any less annoying. She just hoped the new information he was apparently gaining wouldn’t be misused.
Thoughts of him following the advice from the magazine to obtain another woman’s favor plagued her –because it was quite obvious that none of it actually applied to their relationship. As she had persistently demonstrated to Kagome, they would only remain comrades in arms.
Miroku kept gleefully reading the article, fending off every single one of the girl’s futile attempts at grabbing the prized magazine once more. It almost looked like a dance.
“Oh, this part is good. I’m glad to see that even in Lady Kagome’s time someone seems to agree with me.”
This piqued Sango’s interest, as his finger was pointing towards the end of the article. From what she remembered of her conversation with Kagome, it looked like this was one of the items that had been left unread because of the way the topic had to be abruptly cancelled.
“What does it say?” Sango leaned on his shoulder, demure brushed aside for the sake of catching the words he was reading.
Her brown eyes mirrored the same intensity the monk had previously shown, causing them to overlook his action of holding the magazine with just one hand. Meanwhile, the other hand, now free, quickly slipped behind her back, tracing a path downward until it reached her bottom. The caress was one she was begrudgingly used to.
Of course he takes the opportunity to pull this stunt, she seethed while her hand expertly smacked his cheek, the skin immediately reddening in the shape of her palm.
Before she could unleash more of her wrath onto him, Kagome and the others had finally come back from their emergency duties. Not one of them flinched at the usual picture of a very furious Sango keeping her distance from a sighing Miroku, whose face was marked with well-deserved retribution.
“Miroku, you never learn. I should’ve never left you alone with Sango,” the kitsune said while shaking his head.
“Little Shippo, I’m afraid this was a misunderstanding. I was only following instructions,” the not-so-holy man retorted, signaling the cause of his woes.
Kagome’s eyes widened when she saw her teen magazine lying on the floor, opened on the article entitled How to Tell Your Crush is Into You, and shot a horrified look towards Sango. If Miroku claimed he was following the advice of said article, then it only meant one thing…
The girl from the future claimed her property and reread the third to last item on the article, the one she had purposely refused to read to Sango so that her arguments would be more convincing and profound-sounding. The characters read: if he’s always leaning in when you talk or finds excuses to touch you –even if it’s just a light brush of your hands– then rest assured that your love is guaranteed!
This, Kagome decided, would be the first and last time she brought any reading material other than her school textbooks back to the Sengoku era.