Author's Note: Written for the Vice & Virtue Challenge ongoing at mirsanficart. Part 1 of 7. Takes place in early canon, not long after Sango has joined the Inu-tachi.

Sango scowled. As usual, he would be up to his tricks again.

That monk – she seriously doubted whether he truly deserved that title – was an incorrigible flirt and lecher. That boyishly handsome face of his concealed his true character well.

Rather than wait for him, the slayer opted to leave first, supplies in hand; let him find his own way back to the camp for the night.

"Ah, Sango-chan!"

Kagome greeted her warmly from beside the fire – almost immediately afterward, her brow furrowed.

"Anou... Where's Miroku-sama?"

"Houshi-sama was occupied," answered Sango flatly. "He'll be coming back when he's finished with his business."

The schoolgirl sighed ruefully, not missing the emphasis on the last word. Inuyasha snorted from his seat beneath a nearby tree.

"Damned bouzu – I knew this would happen. You shouldn't have sent him with Sango."

"She hasn't fully recovered, Inuyasha!"

Sango held up a hand to dispel the impending squabble. "I am strong enough, Kagome-chan; my wounds have healed sufficiently. I don't wish to be a burden to your group by merely being idle."

"You're not a burden!" blurted out the younger girl. "You're our friend, Sango-chan – "

Stiffly, the slayer sat down beside the campfire. It still felt a little strange to be addressing them on familiar terms; her betrayal of her travelling companions remained fresh in her mind. Sango's sense of honour rankled in her. They had accepted her back unquestioningly, and she was dying to be given the chance to prove her worth in the only way she knew how; combat.

Even now, as she pretended to be polishing Hiraikotsu, Sango's thoughts drifted to Miroku. Naturally, she trusted him as she did the others; he had fought valiantly against Naraku, he had prayed for the souls of her people.

What Sango could not comprehend was the fact this good man was also a pervert who had groped her as soon as her injuries were sufficiently healed.

Miroku was a mystery; one she was determined to understand.

Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will be victorious in every battle.

Her father's most prized possession, besides herself and Kohaku, had been a tattered copy of the great Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu's treatise on warfare; he had drummed some of the maxims into her.

Lust. Sango was absolutely certain it was one of his facets. The question was: to what degree? Enough to be a weakness?

She was startled out of her thoughts by renewed bickering. Miroku had returned.

" – and you were supposed to be helping Sango-chan with the things, Miroku-sama!" Kagome snapped.

He glanced over at her, a hint of guilt in his eyes. "Sango, I apologise."

"Don't bother, houshi-sama," she answered, gaze firmly fixed on Hiraikotsu.

Even long after she had looked away, Sango could still feel his eyes on her.