Prompt 5 - Friendship
I watched, irritation clear on my face as Miroku proposed to Sango.
I always knew Sango was no ordinary woman: she was one of the few women in the world I respected. She was a good fighter, almost as strong as I was and tough as nails. Most of all, she had the fire that burned in her eyes, the survivor’s will and determination which was so like my own. Sango understood what it was like to struggle against overwhelming odds like no one else could.
Miroku was probably the worst thing for her. That handsome playboy who caressed women like it was going out of style. The lecherous monk whose perverted comments and behavior earned him more physical punishment than was healthy. The cursed man carrying his death in his right hand. They seemed incompatible, he and his carefree demeanor, she and her emotional scars.
But he made her happy, like no other man could. Miroku knew Sango like no one did, he truly cared for her. That was what made him constantly anger her, in that puzzling roundabout way love had. Even just for a while, Sango could be spared from life’s harsh reality.
I suppose that was enough for me.
“Inuyasha?” That bouzu approached me that night, long after the girls had fallen asleep.
I grunted, cutting through his next words. “You’d better not hurt Sango and make her cry, you hear?”
He smiled, his eyes serious. “Truly, you are a good friend, Inuyasha.”
I snorted.