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My Week 89 Drabble
So Damn Hot
farawayeyes4

Title: An Heir of a Different Kind
Author: Far Away Eyes
Word Count: 1001
Rating: G
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Miroku/Sango
Summary: Sango has given Miroku the heir he has always wanted. Or has she?

Written for

iyfic_contest Week 89: Birth theme

 

 

Panting, Sango laid back on the pallet, exhausted. She felt a damp cloth wipe sweat from her forehead. A small bundle was thrust into the demon slayer's arms. Sango cradled it gently against her chest, and pulled the blanket aside to reveal a pair of trusting violet eyes.

“They're just like Miroku's eyes, aren't they?” Kagome said from the demon slayer's left.

Sango nodded, brushing her fingers across the baby's soft cheek. “Tell him he can come in now, please.”

“Alright.” Kagome smiled, and left Sango alone with her newborn.

Looking into the tiny face of her baby, Sango felt bittersweet. She wasn't certain how she would tell the monk of her failure. Sighing, she bit her lip to hold in her tears. This should have been a joyous moment. While she treasured the infant in her arms with all of her heart, Sango feared Miroku might feel differently. As long as she had known the monk, he had wanted nothing more than an heir.

They still had yet to lift Naraku's curse. Sango feared for her child. She knew that the curse would afflict the baby nestled against her bosom. The demon slayer hoped they would destroy Naraku before it manifested in her child's hand. If not, she wished for her baby to have the strength to endure it. But she also knew that Miroku had envisioned his heir following in his footsteps to carry on the mission, and she wasn't certain this child could do that. She feared Miroku would be disappointed and turn to another for a proper heir.

The door flap lifted, and Miroku entered. He smiled softly, and knelt down next to Sango. He whispered, “Kagome said I could come in.”

Sango lifted her eyes from the small infant's face to look into Miroku's hopeful eyes. She bit her lip, fighting back a fresh bout of tears, only to fail as a single one rolled down her cheek. She whispered, “I'm so sorry, Miroku.”

“Why are you sorry, Sango? Did something go wrong?” Miroku's eyes became dark with concern, and a tight frown crossed his face. “The baby---it's alright, isn't it?”

Sango blinked, taking a deep breath. The demon slayer looked away, not wanting him to see her tears. She nodded yes, unable to speak without breaking down. He had been so hopeful when he had entered, and now she didn't know how she'd tell him without taking that hope away. Sango didn't have the heart to see it die in his beautiful eyes.

“Sango?” Miroku moved closer. “What's wrong?”

Sango looked down into her baby's face, her lip trembling. She whispered, “It's---it's a girl. I”m sorry.”

Silence greeted her ears, and Sango knew he was disappointed. She waited for him to stand up and leave her and their little girl behind. He couldn't have possibly wanted a daughter.

A deep chuckle greeted her ears, and Sango looked up to find his violet eyes alight with amusement. He whispered, “Is that all?”

“What? You mean you're not angry?” Sango gasped.

“Of course not. Why would you ever think that I'd be angry that you gave me a beautiful little girl?” Miroku asked, the frown returning to his face.

Sango sighed. “Didn't you want a son for your first born instead? I failed to give you one.”

“You didn't fail me, Sango.” Miroku brushed some fly away hairs from her face. “Honestly, Sango, why would you think a girl is a failure?”

“Because you've always wanted a son to follow in your footsteps,” Sango choked out.

“A daughter can do that just as well.”

“How? She can't be a monk.”

“No.” Miroku shook his head. “I don't understand, Sango. Why do you think a girl would be incapable of being my heir?”

“I---I just thought you wanted a son for your first born.”

“You're your father's first born, are you not?”

“Well, yes, I am, but---”

“This is no different. Do you think your father wanted you any less or that you've failed to live up to his expectations as his daughter?” Miroku sighed.

“No. Father made sure to let me know he was proud of my skills.” Sango's eyes met Miroku's. “I just know you've wanted a son since I've met you, and I gave you a daughter instead.”

“Sango, I don't care that our first born is a girl. All I care is that our daughter is healthy. It's all I've ever wanted.” Miroku bent towards her, kissing her forehead. “Please, don't worry about this anymore. Any child we have will be wanted.”

“Okay.” Sango protectively pulled her daughter to her chest. “And what of the curse? She'll have it if we don't defeat Naraku before---before---” She just couldn't bring herself to speak of the monk's death.

“I have faith that our daughter will have the strength to carry on this curse if it should come to that.” Miroku clenched his cursed hand into a fist.

“Why?”

“Because, Sango, I know you. If our daughter is half the fighter and half as strong as you, she'll manage. I wouldn't worry about her.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course. I have never met anyone as determined as you. I'd dare say that if I should fail to lift Naraku's curse, she'll be the one to break it. I wouldn't want to be in Naraku's shoes if that should happen.” Miroku smiled. He shifted to sit next to her, and outstretched his hands, asking to hold their daughter. Once he held her in his arms, he cradled her to his chest, cooing softly. He looked down at Sango, smiling. He said, “I also pity any man that dare cross her path. She's absolutely beautiful. I'm already in love with her.”

Sango laughed softly. “And for once, lecher, I'm not jealous.”


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