He didn’t blame her for her roughness. He’d only known how to be a lecher, but it didn’t mean he had no concept for love. He was a priest; a powerful one too! Miroku knew he looked good. He also knew he might die any moment, so when he met Sango, he wanted her.

The lechery pissed her off, but he only did it because he thought she might laugh. He was scared. Oh yes, he was scared when she got so pissed off he could imagine the flames surrounding her bright soul. But he was also something else. He was aroused. He loved it when she got mad. She could punch the lights out of him any day as long as it threw him into a blissful dream. He didn’t care that he was hopeless. He wasn’t changing his ways.

He didn’t want the other girls. It was for fun. He wanted the unattainable woman that came in like a spring storm and washed over him thoroughly. He could’ve said the same about Kagome, but the girl already had her heart set. She was also not Sango. Kagome did not have the silent determination and fire that made you stare in awe.

He would gladly die from her clobbering his head with her weapon after a grope. It was sick. He should feel ashamed, but he wasn’t.

He wondered what would happen if he just kissed her. Would she kick the living shit out of him? He looked over at the strong woman beside him. She looked back and frowned. He really wanted to try. Not grope, but kiss her.

"What do you want, houshi?" she asked.

"Something I should’ve done a long time ago," he replied smoothly.

He wasn’t a hard trained warrior, but he was quick. He snatched Sango into his arms and laid his lips on her.

"Oh Great Buddha!" he thought.

Her skin smelled like flowers and he remembered hearing Kagome talk about her strange soap. He sighed, feeling her soft lips respond to his own.

And then, wham!

"Damnit! Hentai!" Sango cried out after belting him across the head.

The other group members shook their head and set camp. Miroku was out again with his usual goofy grin.