A Rickety Bridge

A/N: The first section of this chapter comes from parts 343-345 of vol. 35 of the Inuyasha manga. Though I have altered character dialogue and plot somewhat to adapt the story to this medium and this fiction, it is not mine but Rumiko Takahashi’s.

Chapter Five: Fiancée and Catfish

Kagome shivered, moving closer to the fire. “It’s cold.”

Shippou glanced at the building a few yards away. “Why is Miroku the only one inside the house?”

Sango was staring at the ground, arms wrapped around her knees. Another town, another one of Miroku’s former flames coming to light. This one was a daughter of a town head named Shima. The stupid girl was ecstatic to see the houshi and wanted to be married immediately—of course that might have something to do with a catfish youkai demanding her hand in marriage, threatening to destroy the town if she didn’t comply.

The taiji-ya sighed. One would think that after all the times their group had stumbled across one of Miroku’s girls, she’d be used to it by now. Yet, it still managed to come as a shock every time. He was nineteen, for crying out loud—how many could there be?

He was currently inside the girl’s residence, negotiating. Sango didn’t want to think about it but, the cruelty of her companions proven, such was the topic of conversation.

“I don’t know,” Kagome answered Shippou. “He said he wanted to discuss things.”

“Will he refuse to marry her?” The kitsune tossed a twig into the fire.

“Well, he should,” Kagome said with feeling. It was clear she still hadn’t completely forgiven Miroku for sending her to Mushin. “Miroku-sama did promise to marry Sango-chan, after all.”

Inuyasha was standing at the edge of the firelight, eyes fixed on the lake where the youkai threatening Shima was currently hiding. “But can you trust him? Really, it’s Miroku. Besides, did you see that girl? ‘Shame on a man who does not eat the meal set before him,’” he quoted the axiom.

Kagome’s eyes sparked. “Inuyasha, osuwari!”

The hanyou crashed to the dirt with an “oof!” of surprise. He rose, eyes murderous, with the intention of shouting at Kagome but, seeing her icy stare, seemed to remember why that comment would have offended her. He gave a noise between a “humph” and a growl, and went back to his self-appointed duty of watching the lake.

Shippou was looking up at Sango’s dark expression. “Are you angry, Sango?”

“No,” she answered.

“Really? Even if Miroku marries this girl like he—”

“I said no!” she gritted through clenched teeth, the flames reflected in her eyes causing the kitsune to jump back.

There was a sudden thud, followed by a great rumbling that shook the ground. Kagome dropped the piece of candy she had been digging out of her pack to comfort a traumatized Shippou, while the cub grabbed onto her arm to steady himself.

Inuyasha brandished his claws eagerly. “Heh, something that reeks of fish is coming closer,” he bared his fangs. “Looks like this bastard ‘nushi-sama of the lake’ is finally making his appearance.”

The ground was torn up in a straight path to the house, as the youkai burrowed his way just beneath the surface. Miroku, the girl Shima, and her parents had just emerged, the family standing in a huddled bunch, fear evident in their faces. There was a burst of dirt in all directions, and the group braced themselves.

When the dust had settled, there stood what looked like a little fish-faced man, somewhat taller than Shippou. He wore stylish clothes in rich fabrics, a cart dragging behind him full of presents for his bride-to-be.

The tiny man smiled broadly in his excitement. “I am nushi-sama of the lake. As promised, I have come for Shima-dono.”

“Is that really him?” Inuyasha asked, slightly incredulous.

“He says he is,” Kagome replied faintly.

Inuyasha strode forward, stopped before this nushi-sama, and smacked him upside the head. “Go home,” he barked.

The little youkai looked up at Inuyasha, stunned. “Why are you in the way?”

“Because the girl doesn’t want you.” He glared down at the fish, and the fish glared right back.

Everyone else watched the display in disbelief. Shima stepped into Miroku’s arms, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m so frightened,” she said.

Sango snorted angrily. “How can you be scared of that?”

She didn’t know what disgusted her more, the girl’s apparent fear of this twerp of a youkai, or the fact that she was nestling into Miroku’s arms as though he could possibly defend her effectively with a ninety-pound weight around his neck.

“See,” Inuyasha gestured to Shima. “Now go.”

“B-but,” stuttered the youkai, “you promised.”

The girl in Miroku’s arms whipped her head around. “I did no such thing.”

Shima’s father, however, stepped forward. “I’m sorry, nushi-sama,” he said.

Shima was a little wide-eyed. “Father?”

He looked at her. “Years ago, when you were sick and Miroku-sama came to town, he gave me herbs to boil in water for you to drink. I did that every day, and I made a vow at nushi-sama’s shrine—but I never thought he was listening. I said that if he healed you, he could have whatever he wanted.”

Miroku nodded in comprehension. “So there was indeed a promise.”

Shima let go of Miroku, stepping forward toward the catfish. “I-I never knew father made such a vow. I must honor his word.”

Nushi-sama’s eyes lit up, “So you will marry me.”

“I would,” Shima continued, “but I heard that you wanted a pure wife.” She swallowed nervously. “I am not chaste, for two years ago I...joined with Miroku-sama.”

There was a stunned silence.

“Is this true, Shima?” her father asked shaken.

She hung her head, “I’m so sorry, father. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

Inuyasha crossed his arms. “Figures.”

Miroku looked at Sango anxiously.

“It’s okay,” Sango said in a tight sort of voice which let him know that it was anything but okay.

The miniature youkai was pointing a shaking finger at Shima. “Y-you deceived me! You’re beauty and wholesome appearance only makes my hatred a hundred times worse.”

Sango laughed, and everyone glared at her. She couldn’t help it; this little youkai was ridiculous, and she’d spent her entire life fighting bigger, much more powerful things. It was difficult to take him seriously.

He began to swell and expand, rising above the ground in a dark cloud. He reemerged as a giant catfish with menacing eyes.

Shima squeaked. “Miroku-sama, save us,” she begged, clasping his arm.

The houshi disentangled himself. “I understand; I shall calm him down. Sango,” he called, “let’s go.”

Sango was still trying to contain her amusement, and she hadn’t forgotten her annoyance. “This is your mess. Clean it up yourself.”

Seeming to forget the youkai completely, Miroku moved to her side. “Sango, can we talk about this?” He dropped his voice low, “This girl means nothing to me—I never intended to go through with the marriage.”

“Do you ever?”

“What?”

“Are you planning on actually marrying me?” she demanded.

Miroku sputtered for a moment. “Is now really the time to have that conversation?”

Sango glared at him and resisted the urge to draw her katana and give him a stab wound to match the one from a couple months ago. “Don’t come near me,” she started walking away.

Sango marched past Inuyasha, who was still having fun with Shima’s fiancé.

“How dare you make fun of me!” it shouted.

“You don’t fucking scare me, small-fry.” Inuyasha gave a swipe of claws across the fish’s face, and the youkai fell to the ground.

Nushi-sama lay there a moment before reverting to the form in which he’d first appeared. He sat and cried, bemoaning the “lost purity” of his Shima-dono.

But Sango wasn’t really interested in all that.

“Won’t you talk to me at all?” Miroku asked.

Sango didn’t stop.

“Wrap it up, will you,” Inuyasha snapped impatiently at Miroku. Then he called after Sango, “It’s not like Miroku’s bad habits with women started yesterday.”

Sango felt a bit foolish—foolish for showing her jealousy, and foolish for being even the faintest bit shocked at what had happened today.

Shima stepped forward. “Please, don’t be angry at Miroku-sama,” she called out. “It’s my fault.”

The last thing Sango needed to hear was one of Miroku’s silly women make excuses for him, so she sped up. Hearing that Miroku was going to come after her, she snapped, “Don’t follow!”

She walked around the lake, stopping at the other side. She could still see the others, but not clearly. She sighed and sat on a rock. Kirara rubbed her face against Sango’s calf comfortingly, then settled beside her.

That idiot. He hadn’t even followed her. She had done everything she could to keep her emotions under control for the past two days since Miroku had seduced her by the fire. It had taken its toll, and she didn’t think she could hold it in anymore.

She didn’t have time to wallow, however. A scream rent the air and she looked up to see Shima being dragged into the lake by the catfish youkai, who had, evidently, changed his mind about wanting her.

Sango stood. “Come on, Kirara,” she said. One of Miroku’s pathetic floozies or not, the girl didn’t deserve this fate. And, after all, shouldn’t Miroku’s pathetic floozies stick together? she thought bitterly.

Mounting Kirara and soaring over the lake, she let Hiraikotsu fly at the youkai and the boomerang hit him mightily on the side of the head. She reached down, grasped a sinking Shima’s arm, and hauled her out of the water.

The girl sputtered, spitting out water. “You...” she said, slightly bemused.

This wasn’t the time or place and Sango was not a patient person. “Just throw your leg up over so I can let go of you.”

But right when she had the girl settled comfortably in front of her, Sango felt something clasp her ankle and pull her from Kirara. She fell a few feet before being caught painfully by the catfish.

Kirara paused in midair, contemplating rescue.

“Go!” Sango yelled. “Get her to safety.” She looked at the monster that had her. He stared back furiously.

“How about I get you instead, huh?” he bit out. “Since you cost me my wife, I may just keep you as my mistress.”

Sango was struggling in his grasp, trying to reach her katana, when she heard a maniacal cry.

The fish’s face was suddenly covered in o-fuda. He turned in the direction of the attack just in time to have a staff come down right between his eyes.

Sango blinked, gaping at Miroku. He was wet, his face red with fury. There was nothing calm or restrained about him as he hit the youkai with his staff repeatedly. “You bastard! What did you say, eh? You shit—taking my woman, are you?”

The catfish, beaten and bleeding, probably more than a little punch-drunk, gawked at Miroku fearfully. “Sh-she was your woman, too? I’m s-so sorry,” he slurred just before he lost consciousness.

Even though he was out, Miroku whacked him again for good measure. “Sango, are you all right?” he asked.

Sango looked away, and began swimming for the shore. She hadn’t processed what had just happened well enough to react to it. She swam by Inuyasha, who was yelling at Miroku.

“Damn it! You didn’t leave anything for me at all.”

Sango trudged out of the water, giving her arms a shake and wiping wet bangs out of her eyes.

Timidly, Shima came forward with a blanket. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered.

Sango took the blanket silently, not trusting herself to speak to this girl.

“I’m sorry,” Shima said. “I’m sorry I lied.”

“About what?” Kagome asked.

“I-I never joined with Miroku-sama. I just didn’t want to marry nushi-sama.”

Sango paused a moment for this to sink in. “If this is true...” she looked at Miroku. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Miroku sighed. “I took advantage of your kindness that you’d understand without my telling you.”

“Houshi-sama....”

“It’s been a bad habit of mine for a long time,” he continued, taking one of her hands in his own. “I’m sorry I gave you a bad memory.”

“It’s all right. Besides,” she paused, blushing and laughing in relief, “when you saved me, that was very funny. And sweet.”

Shippou was looking up at the couple. “It still would have been better to deny it from the beginning.”

Miroku shrugged.

An idea seemed to occur to the kitsune cub. “Or could it be that you didn’t remember yourself—that you had this girl mixed up with another one?”

Miroku froze.

Sango saw the panic in his eyes and knew that Shippou had been dead-on. Her emotional state went from soaring, to falling flat in the space of a few moments. She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from Miroku’s.

She saw that everyone was staring at her, including the family of stupid people who let a charlatan like Miroku stay with them and made deals with youkai. She wasn’t up to dealing with this shit. So she started walking again. Miroku called after her, but didn’t follow. She was actually relieved at this because, perversely, she found herself crying and she didn’t want him to see.

She went back to the rock she had been sitting on before. She was watching the sun set when she heard someone approach.

“Are you okay?” she heard Kagome’s voice.

“You are lucky, Kagome-chan.”

“How so?”

“You have only Kikyou-sama to compete with.”

“And you think that makes me lucky?” Kagome’s voice had gone a little stiff.

Sango looked at her friend. “At least you know what you’re fighting. When you sense he’s thinking about someone else, you know who it is.”

Kagome shook her head. “There’s still no comparison. Miroku-sama loves you and only you.”

Sango felt a weighty sadness moving in her. “I wish I could believe that were true.”

“What do you believe? You can’t possibly think I’m in a better situation than you are.”

She smiled wanly, “You love a man who loves two women. I love a man who loves all women.”

“But you’re special,” Kagome insisted. “You mean so much more to him that the others.”

Sango nodded, she understood this. “One on one I could take any of them, but collectively they pack a powerful punch. I can’t guard against that. There is nothing I can give him that he hasn’t gotten somewhere else already—or won’t get in the future.”

Kagome sat next to her. “Is this what you were thinking about, when I came up just now?”

“No,” Sango answered. “That’s an old thought. I...was actually thinking about my mother, my father, what they would think of my being in love with...him. I think they’d be very surprised—I know I am. He’s not at all the man I pictured for myself. He’s certainly not the man they would have wanted for me.” She paused. “Did I ever tell you that I was betrothed?”

Kagome shook her head.

“There was a boy in my village, Kanaye-kun. He wasn’t as beautiful as the houshi, or nearly as intelligent, but he was honest and loyal. He thought that I was the prettiest girl in the village—he asked my father for me when he was nine years old. We were going to be married this coming winter.”

“What happened?”

“Kohak—” Sango stopped. “Naraku killed him.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, I’ve grieved. And I could never really tell whether or not I loved him—I always felt guilty for that. What I’ve been thinking about is how foolish I am. Kanaye-kun was taken from me so quickly, so was my family, my home. I want stability, permanence, safety when this is all over. I want someone who can stay with me, live with me till I’m old. And yet I’ve fallen in love with a nomadic, womanizing con-artist with a curse that gives him less than a year to live.” Sango held Kirara a little tighter. “There will always be other girls, in his head in his life, that’s what I realized today. They will always be there, but they have nothing to do with me and they are nothing like me. Girls like Shima-dono can afford giving themselves to him and they can afford losing him, because they have so much to fall back on. But me, what’s worse for me?—never knowing what it is to be his, or losing him, either to another woman or to death, when so much has already been taken from me? That’s what I’m wondering: which loss won’t break me?”

Kagome sat quietly for a moment, then said, “I think you already know.”

Sango smiled. “Do you?”

Her friend nodded. “You’re just working up the courage to go to him.”

“I think you’re right.”