Labyrinth

 

Chapter 10: It Is My Reminder

 

“Quick, in here.” Kagome’s head jerked toward the familiar voice only to see an auburn mop of hair duck into a hole in the alley side of a wall.

“Shippo?”  she should have been mad, really mad, but she couldn’t seem to manage it.  Instead she ducked in after him, pulling Miroku with her. 

They found themselves inside a small and very dank room, dimly illuminated by several poorly boarded holes in the outside walls.  It looked to be some sort of storage shed, and, Kagome realized with a sneeze, it was quite dusty.

Sitting in the far corner (which wasn’t far at all, six feet at most) was Shippo.

Propping her hands on her hips as best she could in the crowded room Kagome shot him a mock glare, “That’s twice now.”

“Uh,” Miroku interjected eloquently from behind her, “as entertaining as this conversation is bound to be, I believe it would be in our best interest to hold it further from the street.”  It was only when Kagome darted a look over her shoulder at him that she realized he was indeed still half in the alley.

“Sorry,” she scooted in and over, sliding down against the wall so that he could squeeze into the small room.  He slid down beside her and stared at his hands.

Kagome chose to ignore him for the moment and focus on the kitsune.  “Start talking.”

“Kagome!” Shippo’s tone had a faint whining quality, though it was clear from his expression that he was trying to sound grown up, “I didn’t run off on you.  I knew they would bring you here and that I’d have a better chance of saving you here,” he darted a quick look at her.  Her expression clearly said that she wasn’t buying it and he grimaced, all maturity leaving him as he flung himself at her and buried his face in her shirt, “I’m just a kid, and that guard tossed me right off you, and I couldn’t do anything anyway!”

And that was perfectly true.  And, really, how could Kagome blame him?  So she didn’t.  Gently she brought a hand up to pat his head and stroke his hair.

“It’s okay, Shippo” she assured him soothingly.

The young kit pulled his face, now a bit tear stained, up to look at her, “Really?” he looked so hopeful that she smiled.

“Really.”

“Yay!” he bounced up with a smile, already putting the past in its place.  “I won’t leave again Kagome.  I promise!”  Kagome grinned before a glimpse of Miroku sobered her.  His face was positively downcast, and he almost looked frightened.  Slowly she leaned toward him and placed a hand on his arm.

“We’re okay too.” She said softly.

Violet eyes shot to hers a look of hope glimmering before fading into empty despair again as the monk shook his head, adjusting his staff across his lap.  “No, Kagome.  I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“I didn’t say you did.” He looked startled and she smiled, “although I might argue that rescuing me back there pretty much makes up for earlier.  Anyway, whether you deserve it or not, you’re forgiven.”

For a while Miroku just stared at her as though she were speaking some other language, and then his shoulders straightened just a bit and he leaned back against the wall. “Well, if you want to be generous, who am I to stop you?”  he smiled, a pale impression of his usual grin, but a real smile none-the-less.  Kagome felt herself relaxing as well.  She didn’t like unsettled business, and she hadn’t realized just how much the strain on her friendship with Miroku had been bothering her until now.  Now, with it all out in the open her day suddenly seemed much brighter.  Of course, that didn’t mean she had any idea what to do now – or even what to talk about.  It seemed no one really knew what would be appropriate, so they all sat silently listening to the scattered sounds of steps in the surrounding city.  The quiet stretched on and Kagome, while not exactly uncomfortable, was not enjoying it.

She was beginning to wonder how much longer they would have to stay in the cramped shed, sitting in silence, when a thought occurred to her.

“Miroku, I thought you said you had never been this deep into the Labyrinth.” Kagome pointed out.

He shook his head, “I said I had never been that deep into the forest.  I’ve been in the city before,” she opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand effectively halting her, “I passed through the gate.” His expression darkened, “But my memories of this place are not pleasant.”

“But…”

The monk sighed wearily, passing a hand over tired eyes, “Perhaps I should start at the beginning.” 

Kagome saw the slump of his shoulders and the ache in his eyes and realized with a pang that she had once again stumbled into that territory – the place he didn’t want anyone to go.  ::Way to go Kags:: she scolded herself ::tell him he’s forgiven and then rip right into his painful past, way to show how much you care::  Except, that she did care, and she didn’t want to make him relive whatever it was he was hiding, but maybe it would help.

“Miroku,” she glanced at Shippo, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention.  Odd, because she would have thought he would be curious and nosy, but he was a bright enough kid that he probably knew when it was wisest not to intrude.  Still, he did have ears and there was no reason everyone should know the monk’s private business, “you don’t have to-”

He interrupted her with a raised hand and looked up at her with gentle, sad eyes, “It’s alright.” He gave a humorless laugh, “It might be therapeutic to talk about it.”  He didn’t look as though he believed that, but if he wanted to talk Kagome wouldn’t stop him.

“I told you that I was born here, and that my mother died when I was very young leaving me to be raised by a drunken monk.” Kagome nodded as he looked to her for confirmation and he settled back, staring at his hands. “I stayed with him until I was seventeen, learning to control my powers and to survive the Labyrinth.  Mushin, the old monk, lived on the outskirts of the dark forest and I learned to enjoy life there.  But when I was seventeen Mushin told me that I had learned all that he could teach me and though he would have gladly kept me with him I chose to go my own way.

“For six years I lived my life as I pleased, wandering through the Labyrinth aimlessly, helping those I happened across and enjoying the few pleasures the Labyrinth holds.  I chose to spend most of my time in the open fields, where dangers where fewer and easier to spot.  It was during this time I met most of the humans I mentioned to you.  I met a young girl, Koharu, whom I rescued from a demon.  The girl had no spiritual powers, and I have no idea how she came to be in the Labyrinth.  She followed me for several weeks, and was truly fond of me, but my lifestyle was not suitable for a young woman and so I left her with an old priestess I met within my first year on my own.  Her name was Kaede and she gladly took the girl under her wing.

“And then, when I was twenty three, I met Sango.” Miroku’s eyes shone with pain and joy, and Kagome thought they warred with one another, but before she could determine which emotion had won out he had closed his eyes, the rings on his staff jingling as his fist tightened around it, drawing it closer to him.  His voice, when he spoke again was harsh, raw around the edges, as though it had been scrubbed with sandpaper.  He swallowed convulsively and Kagome almost touched his arm, almost told him to stop, not to relive the memories, but then he was speaking again, a torrent of words as though a dam had burst and she knew they could not be stopped.

“Sango was the strongest, most amazing woman I have ever known,” and it did not escape Kagome’s notice that he spoke of her in the past tense.

Oh, she though with aching heart, oh, Miroku…

But he was still speaking and Kagome fond herself caught in the rushing current, lost in his bittersweet memories.

 

***

 

Miroku wandered, silent and alone, through the outskirts of the dark forest.  He had no real purpose here, though in the back of his mind whenever he entered the forest he always wondered if he would find the old monk who had raised him.  He had yet to do so, and it had been many years since he had sensed the old man’s aura.  He was probably dead, the old drunk.

Absently Miroku thought that he would not mind an encounter with the mimano, but they usually kept to the deeper parts of the forest at this time of year, and he had no desire to venture so far into the cursed woods. It was too bad really because he was very, very bored. He hadn’t had to fight a demon in ages, and he wasn’t about to test one of the Labyrinth’s traps.  He had a very keen sense of self preservation after all.

And then Miroku had stepped through the trees into a small clearing he didn’t remember and all feelings of boredom were lost in an instant.  There, in the clearing were one of Miroku’s favorite things, and one of his least favorite.  In the clearing stood a young woman, perhaps three years younger than himself.  She was dressed in a tight black and pink suit and moved with athletic grace, her long hair being blown back by a wind he could not feel.  This was Miroku’s dearest dream, his favorite pastime – a beautiful woman. His pulse quickened in excitement.  And following quickly after that came a sinking feeling of dread as he realized that the breeze he could not feel was caused by the force of her enormous boomerang-like weapon cutting through the air around her, and it was being thrown at a demon.

The woman caught the weapon, the force pushing her back just a bit, and in her moment of distraction the enormous fire-cat she was faced off against circled around behind and lunged –

Miroku felt himself moving without thought, propelled through the space that separated them and into that place between the woman and the demon.  His wards were in his right hand even as his left raised his staff to protect himself from attack.  He began to mutter the spell which would activate the wards when he was suddenly knocked flat to the ground from behind.

“What are you doing?”

Miroku turned to stare in bewilderment at the woman towering over him.  What had just happened?

“Are you crazy?” she snatched an ofuda from his limp grasp and waved it in front of his face, “you can’t use these!  You’ll hurt her!”

Miroku blinked in confusion.  Somewhere he had missed something, but he wasn’t exactly certain where or what.

“I’m sorry?” he asked weakly.

She leveled him with a look, as if to ask if he were daft, and then slowly raised the ward.  “This,” she pointed at it, “is a demon ward. It hurts demons.” She spoke slowly as if trying to explain something to a very small child.

Miroku nodded before catching himself and looking away sheepishly.  How childish was that?

She rolled her eyes at him.  “So,” she continued, “don’t throw it at my friend!” she tossed the offending object into his lap.

Miroku’s gaze jerked back to her. “Your friend?” he asked incredulously, “your friend was going to attack you!”

She shook her head, “we were only training.” She propped a hand on her hip and tilted her head as she glared down at him, “and thanks for interrupting by the way.” And then she stepped over him, walking away toward her ‘friend’ the fire cat demon.  He watched in amazement as the huge creature morphed into a tiny two-tailed cat and rubbed affectionately against the woman’s legs.  Belatedly he scrambled up to follow after her.

“Well, it looked as though you were in danger.” He defended.

She had knelt to rub the demon behind its ears and now looked up at him, “Well, I wasn’t, as you can see.”

“I see that now.” He agreed, “But, you have to admit, walking in in the middle like that it didn’t look like that.”

She paused, considering him for long moments before nodding and standing slowly, “I suppose you’re right.  And so, thank you, I guess, for your concern – misplaced though it was.”

Now that she wasn’t snapping at him he found it quite easy to admire her once again, and, as he was wont to do, he rapidly felt himself becoming more at ease.  He approached her with a winning smile.

“I think I should at least know your name, since I so rudely intruded upon your training.”

She eyed him a little warily now that he was so close to her, but then shrugged and offered a brief bow, “Sango.” She informed him, “my name is Sango, and this is Kirara.” She held out a hand and the demon cat jumped up into her arms.

“I am Miroku, a wandering monk.” He offered, “may I ask you something?”

Sango looked at him with genuine curiosity and he discreetly looked over her lithe form.

“I guess so.” She acquiesced.

He grinned, and she seemed to shy back, as though uncertain what she had gotten herself into.  A moment later Miroku was pressed up against her, the small fire cat rudely discarded as he grabbed her hands and trapped them between his own.

“Would you bear my child?”

Even the resounding slap she gave him had not been enough to deter him.  Miroku had known from that moment that he would not let her escape.  This woman was special, he needed her and he was willing to spend the rest of his life convincing her that she needed him, if it was necessary.

 

***

 

            Miroku’s eyes were open again, but he refused to look up from the dirt floor.  He was massaging his bound hand slowly.

            “Sango and I traveled together for less than a year, but those were the most wonderful months of my life.  For the first time I felt truly happy, no matter the circumstances.  Sango had a difficult time adjusting at first, but in the end she was as happy to be with me as I was to be with her.”

            “You loved her.” Kagome observed quietly.

            For the briefest moment he closed his eyes as though fighting back a wave of pain, “Yes,” he admitted, “but we were not lovers.  I never told her how much she meant to me. I was a fool.” Kagome slid her hand over his and his movement stilled.  He looked up, staring ahead at the wall, but his fingers closed around hers.

            Kagome was afraid to ask the next question, but she knew that it held the answer to the man before her, “What happened to her?”

            He flinched, but did not look down again.

            “We were walking through the walled maze, hunting for an herb Sango used to patch wounds.  We stumbled across the gate to the city and Sango,” he swallowed, “Sango wanted to explore it.  She had never seen it before.  The gate can be tricky like that.” Kagome nodded in understanding, recalling her own experience with the gate, “I had never seen it before either, but I had heard stories, so I was wary.  But we approached cautiously and everything seemed alright.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, shifting so that he was pressed closer to Kagome, she did not push him away, offering what comfort she could.

            “We decided that it would be safe to pass through.  Sango had always wanted to see the city, and the gate was so much easier than the path through the forest.  At least, that is what we thought.  We passed through the gate with no trouble, but once on the other side we were confronted by a troll who told us we must pay the toll for passage.” His hand tightened on hers until his grip was painful, but she did not complain. He looked away as he continued, “the price was one of us.” He managed to choke out, and Kagome barely restrained a gasp.  He stared at her bleakly, “in the blink of an eye Sango was gone, disappeared, and the troll just laughed when I called out for her and told me there was nothing for me to do.  And then he left, and when I turned back the gate was gone so I wandered the streets of the city, dazed and alone until I finally ran into it again and it took me back out into the wilderness surrounding the city.”

            He gave a sardonic mockery of a laugh, “it exacted no price for that trip.”

            Kagome reached an arm around him, to hug him, but after only a brief moment he shrugged her away.

            “I wandered for another three years, thinking that she was dead.  Over time I pushed thoughts of her to the back of my mind, forcing myself to forget her and move on, almost convincing myself that I had not loved her. And then I met you.”  He raised a hand to brush back her hair softly, “You are so much like her, and yet you aren’t like her at all.  But your spirit… your spirit is the same.  And while I found myself truly happy in your company for the first time in a very long time, there were moments that it was so painful.”

            He paused, drawing in a shuddering breath, “And then, that night at the camp on the mimano, I met someone who changed everything.  A demon came to the outskirts of the camp, and when I sensed him I snuck off hoping to dispatch him.  But I did not get the chance because the demon told me something that shook the very foundations of my world.” He grasped her chin lightly, meeting her gaze directly, “he told me that Sango was alive, that she was in the service of the goblin king who dwelt at the center of the Labyrinth.”  He shook his head, “I had never put much stock in stories of the goblin king, but then I remembered the things you had said, about making him free you, and it was suddenly so easy to believe – so much easier than accepting the fact that she was gone forever.  And he told me that all I had to do to get her back…” he grimaced then, and Kagome knew what he would say before he said it, “all I had to do was betray you.”                   

Though she had known it was coming, Kagome felt the air rush from her lungs with startling force and she swayed just a little.  He hadn’t looked away.

“He promised me that once you were safely in the castle he would return Sango to me.”

And weight of this statement, the revelation he had just made, stunned Kagome so much that it physically hurt her.  He only got Sango back once Inuyasha had her.  Inuyasha did not have her and so Sango… She remembered how depressed he had been all that day; she remembered now what she had not before, the way his countenance had suddenly altered when they seized her, his desperate cry as they hauled her away, his foolhardy attempt to reach her- to fight his way through the crowd.  She stared at him with wide eyes, sparkling with unshed tears.  She hurt for him and it was so much worse than when she had hurt for herself.

“Why did you come back for me?” she whispered brokenly.

His gaze gentled as he tenderly reached to wipe away a tear that had not yet fallen, “If I were willing to betray you, I don’t deserve her.” He whispered.  “Kagome, I swear to protect you from this moment, no matter the cost.”

 

***

 

Kagome was at a loss, and Miroku withdrew, allowing her to process all that had just been revealed to her.  Though he still seemed sad, she thought he also seemed a little lighter, as though he had been freed of a great burden.  Shippo had wisely chosen to curl up in the far corner and amuse himself with his tricks and toys, and Kagome was left to her own thoughts.

The monk beside her was cradling his bound hand once again, and Kagome found her gaze inexorably drawn to it.  He had already told her so much, revealed so much of himself to her.  Could she ask this one other thing of him?

 “What happened to your hand, Miroku?” Her voice was soft, quiet in the dim room, and his grip tightened reflexively.  His gaze swirled darkly once more, but he raised his hand slightly toward her.

“This, is a reminder.” He spoke solemnly, uncoiling the beads from his forearm and pulling away the bindings as he spoke.  “This is so that I never forget.” And then his hand was free, turned toward her, palm outstretched.  And in the very center of the otherwise flawless appendage she could see the floor.  Her mind recoiled because, though it was not bloody or torn or horribly unsightly, it was just so terribly wrong.  In his hand there was a hole, small, as though a nail had pierced the tender flesh.  Kagome winced at the thought and Miroku let out a sigh that might have been the smallest of humorless laughs, and she ached for him.  He had known so much pain.

“We were attacked.” Kagome was drawn back to him when he spoke.  He sounded so… detached, though perhaps that was the only way he could deal with the pain, and she didn’t need to ask who had been with him – who made him a “we”.  It was Sango. 

“We had been staying with the old priestess and Koharu.  It was so peaceful there, so safe.  With the combined holy powers of myself and Kaede, and the presence of Sango – a well known demon slayer by then – there was nothing to fear.” He drew in a breath, “or so I thought.  I became careless.  We had wandered away, to spend the day alone.  I found an excuse to send Kirara away and the afternoon was perfect.  And then we were attacked.  In a single moment everything changed.  I don’t know where it came from, but it was upon us before I could sense it.  And Sango was lying there, on the ground, unconscious.  And I was so scared, so angry I could not even move.” He pulled his hand up to his face and smiled grimly.

“The demon was a shape shifter, and it molded its body into spear-like protrusions which shot out with alarming speed.  I watched it as though time had slowed, and I could see each limb melt and reform.  One of them shot toward Sango and I threw out my hand to protect her.  I didn’t even feel any pain as it pierced through my hand and out the far side.  But something within me flared to life and my holy powers surged along that distorted limb like fire.  It never got near her; the whole creature just disintegrated into ash before my eyes. It wasn’t until I had carried Sango back to Kaede’s that I knew I had been injured.  Koharu was panicked, she kept fluttering around me, insisting that she be allowed to treat my injury.  So I let her…”

His gaze was fixed on his hand, but Kagome had a feeling that he wasn’t seeing it, he was seeing the past.  Slowly she slid her hand to cover the hole and clasped his palm to hers.

“Couldn’t you have healed it with your powers?” her voice was small, but somehow he found it comforting.

“Probably, and certainly Kaede could have.”

“Why didn’t you let her?”

Miroku shook his head, “It is my reminder,” he repeated his earlier answer, “I kept it to keep myself form growing complacent, overconfident.  I kept it to keep me – and those I cared for – alive.”   

And that was the answer to his odd and paradoxical behavior.  Miroku had lived here long enough to know that one had to find his own enjoyment in life, but he had learned the hard way to be wary.

He was watching her; she felt his eyes on the crown of her head and realized that she had dropped her face to stare at the floor.  After a moment she dragged her gaze back up to meet his.  She could see her thoughts reflected in his eyes.  Yes, he had learned the hard way.  And even though he had learned to be wary, the Labyrinth had still managed to steal from him the most precious thing in his life.  He could not control anything and he could save so little.  She wondered that he even bothered trying anymore.  But though there was despair in his eyes there was also contentment.  Miroku knew his place in life, and as long as he could do some good he would go on trying.  Miroku would fight the Labyrinth to the day of his death.  He was so strong.  Kagome was so very blessed to have him with her.  She smiled weakly and he squeezed her hand, a look of resolve stealing over his features.

 “Well,” he stood as best he could, tugging her to her feet, “we aren’t getting anywhere by sitting here.  Let’s go rescue your brother, Kagome.”