Written for iy_themes, prompt: Rose.


Inuyasha spotted her from far away, sitting on the grassy hill.

"Where's the monk?," he asked, sitting down beside her.

Sango looked up in mild surprise. "Oh – it's you, Inuyasha. I think Houshi-sama's gone to the village."

He grunted, understanding the implication. "Idiot lech." She offered a sad smile in return.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the wind chase the clouds across the sky.

"Don't you get tired of it?"

"What?" The slayer was half-asleep, drowsing in the heat of the day and missed the question. Keen gold eyes focused on her. "Miroku's flirting," he said bluntly. "Don't you get tired of it?"

Sango was at a loss for words. "I…"

"He's not going to change. You know that."

Now she was speechless for a different reason. "Inuyasha, where did this come from?" she demanded hotly as the blood rose into her face. "Quite frankly, it's none of your business!"

The hanyou shrugged carelessly. "I thought you were better than that."

Friend or not, Inuyasha had gone too far. Sango got up, incandescent with rage.

"For your information, my relationship with Houshi-sama is none of your concern and I don't appreciate commentary," she hissed.

He was standing too, Tetsusaiga clasped in one hand. There was an inscrutable expression in his sharp gold eyes.

"You deserve better. That's all I'm saying," stated the hanyou calmly. Quietly, he turned and left, the wind billowing in his long silver hair.

She watched dumbly as he left. A tear slid silently down her cheeks: not because Inuyasha's words had stung her, but because deep down, she knew them to be true. The slayer knew he was perceptive but she had not been prepared for something like this.

Had she been grasping at false hopes all this time?