Author's Note: This takes place just after the end of the final manga-verse battle. For those of you who don't read the manga, all you need to know is that there was a fight inside of Naraku. Sesshoumaru and the Inutachi joined forces. The battle is still ongoing though, so this is just my wishful interpretation of how I'd like things to end up.

This is not a battle fic since I don't write war. It has a very happy ending, I promise.

Also, the title comes from a Fullmetal Alchemist composition by Oshima Michiru. I listened to that song the entire time I was writing this story.

Beaming Sunlight--

Pain.

The blast that shook the earth had been felt the most by those that had caused it.

In the aftermath of the explosion everyone that had been fighting inside of Naraku had been hurled to the trees or water or ground or wherever their bodies saw fit to fly. The purification of their archenemy had been a much more violent event than they had ever thought. But the dark hanyou was gone and their efforts had been worth it in the end.

Ouch.

Sango opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the beaming light of the afternoon sun. She felt dizzy and sore all over her body. It didn't take long to figure that half the fingers in her right hand were completely broken, and she was pretty sure that the real reason for her headache was the stockpile of firewood on which she had landed. There would be splinters and bruises to show for it later.

Sitting up was a task that took a large amount of exertion. The logs shifting around beneath her made it difficult to get a stead hand on things. In the end she settled on rolling herself unceremoniously onto the ground in a swift and painful motion that left her gasping for air. For a moment she wondered if she would black out from the hurt.

When she was finally on her shaky feet she was in awe at all of the damage that had been done to their small village. Immediately she thought of the innocent people that were in their broken homes, injured or dead under bits of poisonous oni flesh or pieces of their own houses. A wave of nausea caught her suddenly and she fell to the ground, dry heaving her empty stomach.

"Here," a woman said, pulling the taijiya's hair out of her face. She held out a bowl of water. "Drink this."

"Thank you," she murmured as the cool water touched her lips. "Has anyone gone through the houses to check for survivors?"

"Kaede-sama led us away from danger just before the youkai crept overhead," she explained. "There was no one left in the village."

Sango breathed a deep sigh of relief that they had not injured anyone during the battle. She could live with herself knowing that the only injuries she caused were to herself.

"The others," she said. "My friends, have you seen them?"

"We found your kitsune in some bramble a half ri down the road."

"Oh no," she gasped. "Shippou…"

"He's all right. He's scratched and bruised, but he's okay."

"What about Inuyasha and Kagome? And my cat, where is she? Houshi-sama too, has anyone seen them?" Her voice was becoming somewhat frantic as she thought of her friends.

"We've just come back ourselves," the village woman said. "We haven't found anyone else yet."

Sango scrambled to her feet quickly, dropping the water bowl in the dirt. She was alive and standing and she needed to find the others. The possibility that they could have been injured or worse in the blast was a driving force that got her moving. She took slow but determined steps forward, testing out her wobbly legs. She was shaken, but nothing else seemed to be broken.

The main damage area was just east of the village, on the road that lead to the forest. Debris was scattered around in the rice fields, and in the distance the trees were splintered and uprooted. There were steaming pieces of Naraku's body all over the ground. It looked as if a bad storm had blown through. She didn't want to imagine the scenario if the villagers hadn't been evacuated by Kaede's smart thinking. Things would have been bad.

She walked the long stretch of road as quickly as she could, looking for any sign of red or green or purple or white that would give away the locations of her companions. She knew that there was a good chance they had been thrown into the forest or even further away than what her human eyes could see. But she had to look. She had to find them.

And as luck would have it, the first person she came across was Inuyasha. He was sitting in the middle of the irrigation stream, completely drenched and obviously dazed. He shook his head once, twice, and then gave his surroundings a spare glance. He looked right at Sango but said nothing. It seemed that he was looking at her but not really seeing her.

"Inuyasha," she shouted as she ran off into the fields. Mud caked the bottom of her boots, but dirt was the last thing on her mind. "Inuyasha, are you all right?"

The hanyou blinked several times and gave her an odd look. "Why am I soaking wet?"

"You landed in the stream," she explained as she checked his head for injuries.

He batted her hand away in clear annoyance. "Where's Kagome?"

"I haven't seen her yet," she replied.

He stood up slowly and sniffed at the air around him. His attention was drawn to the south where it seemed he had picked up on the scent of the miko. A worried frown set in on his face just before he set off, tossing a quick "I'm going to find her" over his shoulder.

It wasn't long after she had resumed her search that Sango came across the demon lord Sesshoumaru. He had been thrown into the line of trees and impaled on a broken tree branch that was about half the size of her arm. It stuck out of his stomach proudly, as if to say 'Look at what I did!' in some twisted fight that he had lost. The bark was covered in blood that dripped down onto his white kimono and fell about the ground below in a puddle that stained the grass. His body was bent backwards over the trunk of the fallen tree and she imagined that anyone would have had difficulty moving in such a position. She had thought him dead at first, but the closer she got the more she realized that he was still breathing.

"Sesshoumaru!" she cried, climbing up next to his body.

He cut her an angry glare that was obviously meant to deter her from doing anything more than walking on by, but she was stubborn and refused to leave without helping first.

"Can you move at all?" she asked, reaching down to grab his shoulder.

"This Sesshoumaru does not need the help of a worthless human," he said in a very bored voice. "Leave me."

"No, you've got to get up," she said, pulling on his arm.

Sesshoumaru gave a grunt as she tugged at his body, trying to pull him off of the offending branch. He was tired and sore, and the wound in his stomach was more than enough to kill him if only the taijiya hadn't found him. He had been wishing for death before she came along.

"Sesshoumaru, help me!" she said, using what little strength she had to lift his body. Even though most of his plate armor was broken and missing, he was still very heavy.

"Let me die in peace," he said through clenched teeth.

"No," she replied angrily, letting him fall back onto the tree. "You've still got things to live for. Think of Rin and Jaken. They need you."

The memory of a smiling human girl flashed in front of his eyes. She would be alone and helpless in the world, an orphan twice over if he were to die. Jaken would no doubt abandon her without his dominating influence. Did he really want to be a disappointment in the end? Even to someone whose life was so inconsequential?

When Sango began to pull on his arm a second time, he used what little strength he had left to help her.

The taijiya left him sitting on the ground to tend to his wounds privately while she set out to search for the monk.

"Houshi-sama!" she called, hoping that he would hear her and respond.

The forest was deadly silent in the aftermath of the battle. All of the wildlife that had inhabited the trees before were gone now, either dead or frightened off. Even the bugs that chirped loudly were quieted. She could hear the wind and the sound of her own breathing, labored from the exertion of helping Sesshoumaru down from certain death. The further she walked the more exhausted she became. By the time she found the monk, her body was ready to collapse.

He was stretched out on his back in a soft bed of grass surrounded by tall trees that had not suffered any damage in the blast. From her point of view it looked as though he had just laid down for an afternoon nap. Of course she knew this was not the case at all. He had taken a hard fall onto the ground with no cushion to the force of the blow. Just thinking about it made her sick to her stomach, and so she ran as quickly as she could in her fatigued state to reach his side.

"Oh no," she breathed, falling in the grass beside him.

The boyish face that Sango so secretly adored was injured from his forehead all the way to his chin. A long gash cut its way across his cheek, scarring the flesh in a very precise cut. The skin around his left eye was somewhat swollen and discolored, showing the beginnings of a bruise. He had been coughing up blood at some point. It had leaked out of the corner of his mouth and formed a heavy rivulet that dripped on the ground beneath him into a much larger puddle. Sango noticed blood that had leaked out of his ear, which was the last thing she wanted to see from any companion. It was not a good sign.

When she touched his neck she was relieved to feel that although he had begun to lose his color, the skin was still warm. But her insides went cold when the pulse that she had hoped to find was not there. She put her head to his chest and listened for a heartbeat. That was gone too.

"No!" she yelled as she began to panic.

A dozen things crossed her mind as she tried to think of anything that would help him. He was dead, but he had not been that way for long. He could still be brought back. What had Kagome taught her about saving lives?

Pushing aside all fear and hesitation, she tilted Miroku's head back and held his nose shut. She would breathe the life back into him. She had to. She just had to.

Her lips closed over his roughly, forcing her breath into his lungs. She could see his chest expand out of the corner of her eye as she performed the basic lifesaving technique. After a few moments she moved to his chest, pushing down over his heart. The ache echoed in her broken fingers as she pushed against his ribcage. But she cast the feeling aside. His life was more important than her pain.

Ichi. Ni. San. Shi. Go.

"No good," she murmured as she moved back to his mouth. Again she repeated the breathing technique, forcing air into his body.

"Come on," she said in a very frustrated, fearful voice. "Come back to me!"

By then the tears had begun to fall, dropping on his face to make wet the blood that had already begun to dry. She cried harder when she began the chest compressions again to no avail.

"Don't do this to me," she sobbed, reaching for his face again. She had to try one more time…

His chest was still silent after the last of the five compressions were finished. The life saving hadn't saved a life after all. She felt overwhelming sorrow and injustice as she sobbed over his body, burying her face against him. She grabbed at the robe just above his heart, holding it tightly in her hand. It was the last thing she had to hold onto. With him gone she was empty. As empty as his soulless body.

She slammed her fist down hard once more over his chest in a foolish gesture that had no meaning at all. She was becoming angry at the whole unfair situation.

Cough.

Sango sat back in shock, watching as Miroku began to gasp wildly for air. His eyes were closed tightly as he coughed and sputtered his way back to consciousness. Already his color was returning. Seeing him in such a weak, ailing state was better than seeing him dead. Her heart felt tight in her chest.

"Houshi-sama," she said as she grabbed his left hand. He squeezed her fingers tightly as he tried to calm himself down.

"S-San-"

"Shh, don't try to talk. Take slow breaths," she ordered. "One at a time."

His breathing became more regulated as she directed him in a soft voice. Eventually he opened his eyes to look at the woman that had saved his life. She had saved him, hadn't she?

"Did I die?" he asked.

"Yes, but you're okay now," she smiled.

"You were crying." His voice was a whisper.

"I thought I lost you."

"I love you."

The declaration was so simple and appropriate that she wasn't the least bit surprised to hear it. His eyes had spoken those words to her for a long time. And now, in this place and time, she felt herself smiling back that same meaning. In the aftermath of the battle there was nothing left to fear. There was no hatred or malice or hopelessness. They had conquered evil and lived to see the beauty of the world after it. There was love and they were together.

Sango reached again for his face, holding her calloused, dirty hand against his own unblemished cheek. Her fingertips ran lightly over the bruise around his eye, making him flinch. She was pleased to see any kind of reaction from him, even a painful one. She descended down as she had moments before, pressing her lips against his. This time the touch was soft and shy. She ran her hand down across his chest, reaching over to pick up his gloved hand, lacing their fingers together as tightly as she could manage with her injured fingers.

"Ah," she hissed against his lips. Her brow creased from the hurt.

"Help me sit up," he said as he stole a quick peck at her lips. She blushed prettily, but nodded and helped him into a sitting position.

"Does your back hurt?" she asked, pressing her fingers around his spine.

"Nothing's broken," he replied. "There are other things to worry about right now."

Sango looked down at their joined hands. Beneath the tightly sealed cloth over his palm was the answer to their fate. Had the destruction cured him of the curse that had befallen three generations of his family? What if the Kazaana was still there?

"You don't have to do this now," she said, releasing his hand.

"Yes I do."

Miroku pulled the beads away slowly, letting them drop into his lap. He was nervous as he stared at his tightly clenched fist, scared that Naraku had been lying to him about the Kazaana the whole time. He gave a silent prayer as he pulled back the cloth.

"Gone," he sighed while he looked down.

Sango grabbed hold of his hand, seeing for herself that his hand was devoid of the wretched curse that had threatened his life since he was a small boy. She ran her fingers over his palm, feeling the smooth skin there.

"Can I take it off?" she asked as she fingered the edge of the glove.

"Not just yet," he said, shaking his head.

"I understand."

"You can, however, kiss me senseless."

"Houshi-sama!"

"Oh my dear Sango," he grinned. "You've got to get over this shyness! After all, tomorrow I'm going to marry you."

Sango collapsed back onto the ground, feeling for the first time a sense of complete freedom. Without Naraku there to taint the world the only thing she needed to worry about was Miroku's wandering hands. And even then, as he leaned down to claim her lips, she realized that his hands were nothing to worry about anyway. They were young and in love, and there was nothing to stop them. This thought emboldened her.

"You sure don't like to waste time," a voice called from the edge of the clearing.

The two looked up at Inuyasha and Kagome smiling at them, with Kirara sitting patiently at their feet. The hanyou was holding his woman against his chest protectively as he stood watching the scene before him. When he had caught the scent of the monk and death on the wind the last thing he had expected to find was this.

"Kagome-chan," Sango called out, "are you hurt?"

"I broke my leg when I fell," she called out. "I'll be fine, though."

"And the jewel?" Miroku asked.

Kagome held up the small orb for them to see. It was a shimmering pink in her protective hands, so unlike the black mass that it had become with Naraku. All of their hardships in connect with the Shikon no Tama were officially over.

An insistent tug at his neck brought Miroku's attention back to the woman beneath him. She was grinning widely with a mischievous glint in her eyes that he had never noticed before. She leaned up and kissed his chin, frowning at the taste of dirt and blood there. They would both need baths.

"But Inuyasha and Kagome-"

"Let them watch," she interrupted.

In time the village was returned to its normal state with the help of everyone who lived there, including the troupe of shard seekers. The villagers were even so kind as to build two extra huts as a gift to those who had saved their lives from the wrath of a power-hungry demon. Sango and Miroku lived out the rest of their lives there in the village with their children who knew nothing of true evil.

Futures were bright and happy, just like any good fairytale ending should be.

Fin--

A/n: Worried that it might feel a bit choppy towards the end. I wrote the thing over the course of a Saturday afternoon and again on Sunday morning. I'm usually not a speculator, and this isn't really my kind of story at all. And no bitching about "Well that's not how CPR goes…" because I'm not trained. And it's fanfiction. Is any of this real anyway?!

Tons more to read on my author's page. Go check it out.

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