Sango zoned out. She was too tired to focus, to listen. She was far more interested in mulling over the puppet demons. She sat slouched, with her head in her hand and absently massaging her scalp, tender from so long with her long hair yanked into a tie. Her ribs ached still, severely bruised. It had taken a bit of effort this morning to get the figure fitting white t-shirt over her head and she had cringed when she had worked to struggle into her jeans. Her brother had had to help her with her shoes.
And Kohaku had teasingly laughed at her about the whole time, masking his concern.
"Now." The sharp word barked made Sango flinch and a tangle of hair yanked painfully, caught up with the thick black band at her wrist. She pulled it free and sat up straighter. "Please take the next five minutes," announced Mrs. Takeshi, "and choose your selected groups."
Groups for what?
Sango hadn't so much as moved before Kagome's hands shot out, one in either direction. One set of fingers closed around Sango's forearm. The other snagged the sleeve of the boy to her right.
"I pick you guys," she announced. In some surprise, Sango blinked at her class friend, then looked past her to Miroku. She inwardly groaned. She outwardly looked serenely back to Kagome. Kagome smiled. "I planned on doing that," she admitted. Sango faintly smiled, and Kagome took that as consent. Her bright eyes turned to Miroku after that, her head darting around fast enough for her heavy black pony tail to fly out like a whip.
"Certainly, Kagome," he cheerfully agreed before she had to ask. Kagome clapped her hands together, pleased with herself, and while she wasn't looking, the boy called Miroku leaned back in his chair to leer at Sango over Kagome's back.
With a sigh, Sango turned her own attention to the notebook before her and drew out the syllabus they' been given at semester's start earlier in the week. She glanced up to watch Kagome stride to the front of the room, tugging down her baroque jade shirt, and stop before the teacher's desk to offer their names, then take the assignment they were handed.
"It's Sango, right?" Miroku asked. She glanced askance at him.
"You know it is, houshi." She dryly answered as her eyes found the assignment in hand. The final project, give a semester to complete. Groups of three, combining history, geography and literature.
This was a big deal, she inwardly mused.
"Sango, would you do me the honor of—"
"We got assignment number five," Kagome announced as she returned with what seemed to Sango like a sudden burst of hurry. "Demonology around the world and how it is different from one culture to the next. Compare to the myths and legends of good versus evil and how these creatures affect our world today." Sango went utterly still and her ribs twinged under the tension. "Well, this should be easy enough. Miroku's specialty at the shrine is demonology and exorcism."
Sango tensely frowned and met the boy's dark gaze. He smiled at her, but there was something odd in his blue eyes as he looked back at her. Carefully, Sango willed herself to ease, to subdue her aversion, her disproval.
Kagome didn't notice.
***
"But, Sango," her brother argued from the passenger seat, "it will be easy. You know everything about demonology. Everyone knows at least a little so they can avoid yokai or defend themselves, but you know everything. It won't be hardly any work at all." Sango uncomfortably shifted as she stopped the car at a red light, working to ease some of the pressure on her ribs.
"Yeah, but it's a little like taking work home with you."
"You're a workaholic anyway," Kohaku dismissed. "Can I go to Jin's when we get home?" The light turned green and Sango turned the car into the neighborhood.
"Finish your homework first." Kohaku growled low in his throat.
"But –"
"Homework. First." Kohaku glared. "The order will not take kindly to me or you if you go to school without finishing the assignments they set for you."
"I have to be at my lessons by five. That won't leave any time at all!" Sango glanced at her brother, unhappily frowning out the window.
"Then you can see Jin at your lessons," she tried. "You can hang out while you're there." Kohaku made a gagging noise in his throat.
"Yeah, right. They don't let us talk! We have to focus and take tests and practice junk. It was easier when you were a kid." Sango faintly laughed.
"Yeah? How's that?"
"Your schools were both the same."
"Kohaku," she mused, "your schools are both the same. Do you not go to a private school?" He frowned, sulking. "Do you not spend your day intermingling traditional education with the teachings and training of the Order of the Exterminators?" He didn't answer. "And do you not have to go to evening classes three times a week, just as I did?" She nodded, satisfied that she had made her point. "As soon as you meet your master requirements, you can start training in the field and going to a regular, public school."
"Most of us are not like you, Sango. Most people never get to go to a public school – most don't even start running supervised missions until junior, even senior year. You were going on your own missions by the time you were sixteen!" Actually, she had been fifteen her first solo mission, but she wisely did not correct him.
"It runs in the family," she offered. Kohaku sulked further.
"Sure. You and our cousin managed to be really good – and who cares, actually, since she got kicked out of the order the same year. It's totally stupid that we have to pretend we disowned her so you don't get kicked out, too, even though everyone knows she still comes around when Father isn't there."
Sango eyed her brother as she pulled into the driveway and Kohaku did not wait to hear anything back from her before he all but fell out of the car in his rush, dragging his backpack behind him.
"Besides," he angrily grumbled, "one of those three lessons takes up all day Saturday and half of Sunday, so technically I go four times a week. I hate this place." More slowly, tender and aching, she followed, clicking the car doors locked before slapping it closed. Kohaku snatched her keys from her hands and hurried to reach the front door of the house.
Sango walked to the end of the driveway to collect the mail before she trailed after him, looping her book bag over her shoulder.
Kohaku enjoyed his training, she knew he did. He wanted to be good at what he did and he strived for it. Still, she understood his frustration. Sometimes, being a family dedicated to the order left little room for… well… anything. Even childhood.
Being of the Order of Exterminators was a little like combining a military force with a cult, and she would admit to that – if not aloud. There were harsh rules – far more zealous than they had been even a century ago, an evolution that had come to pass after a series of ruthless conflicts between exterminators and yokai. Sango, Kohaku and their cousin knew al too well what an exterminator of the order faced if they admitted to such weakness as sympathy.
Training could be all consuming; the job itself could and inevitably would, ensnare a person's entire life. That she had some semblance of freedom through her public school had been hard earned. She had fought hard for it and found it sadly disappointing, almost not worth it. For all her work and dedication, for all the fight she had put up, she didn't have the time to even enjoy it.
The Order of Exterminators community was a close knit one, made up of entire families and clans. Sango knew, in some recess of her mind, that the order was so extreme as to be verging on absolute nonsensicality. But she had been raised in it, of it. The idea of leaving was frightening. How her cousin had managed to so smoothly handle her own banishment was a bit of a mystery and, secretly, Sango agreed very much with Kohaku that it was ridiculous pretending she hated her cousin for nothing more than… it hadn't been a mistake, really. It had been compassion that had led to her isolation.
So, yes, Sango understood Kohaku's frustration, his occasional outbursts of extreme anger. She empathized with his complaints. She did not, however, know what the hell to do about it. Anytime she thought of being vocal or taking into action her condemnation or loathing, Sango stopped.
To be kicked out was something she could live with – would have to live with, it came to it, however miserable. It was the cost that froze her.
Her father would publicly disown and humiliate her. They would take Kohaku away and Kohaku would be too young, too small, to fight back at all. That was not an option.
And yet the part of her that was angry, the part that was rebellious, had forged a sort of partnership with Inuyasha, had led her to keep Kirara for her companion, (though Kirara, yokai that she was, had been a part of the order for centuries before the order had been a unified faction, so the two tailed cat was generally accepted with a rare immunity to the racism anyway).
As if someone could read her thoughts, Sango glanced over her shoulder. Only two of her neighbors in the vicinity of eight blocks in any direction were exterminators, but it was close enough to make her check herself. She did not want a councilman knocking on her door.
Sango kicked closed the front door at her back as she entered the dim house and locked it again behind her. She dumped her bag on the low armoire in the hallway, checked to ensure Kohaku had tossed her keys into the painted wooden bowl set there. Kirara, shrunken down to the size of a kitten, rubbed against her legs. Sango smiled and greeted her, but didn't lean down to pet her. Kirara understood and was unoffended.
"What're you doing?" She jumped and had to turn fully around to face Inuyasha even as she tossed the mail onto the table.
"Group project. We'll have to meet here a good chunk of the time, I guess. Why are you here in the daylight?" Inuyasha snorted even as he moved to stand beside her.
"You'll probably need to fix the window in your side bathroom. What kind of project?" he asked at length and the question alone let her know he was precisely aware of what as going on.
"You broke the window?"
"You have no shrubs around your house. It's very hard to sneak in during the day. So I picked the place closest to the fence where your idiot neighbor has a willow hanging over half your lawn." Sango rolled her eyes. "What kind of project?" She knew he had followed her at times, to school or any other number of places, out of curiosity for the human half of him, if nothing else. He never, however, mentioned anything of it unless there was something that interested him. Sango would stake her life that she knew exactly what that something was. She glanced at him.
"Leave the girl alone," she said.
"Why?"
"She's… different. Special."
"Yeah, I know. Her aura reeks of goodness and bright light and all that crap. I've seen you with her before." Inuyasha wickedly grinned so Sango groaned aloud. "What's her name?"
"Kagome."
"Kagome," he repeated. "She's got a lot of power."
"Please, leave her alone."
"Fuck that," he snorted.
"Inuyasha, you do not know a single thing about cordiality or fragility. You can't slam her upside the head and expect it to work out well."
"Why would I slam her upside the head?" Sango rolled her eyes because he took that so literally.
"Inuyasha, she's my friend. I don't have a lot of those. You have to be nice to her."
"Why? Is she retarded like those puppet yokai?" Sango grit her teeth.
"She's as aware as anyone of the existence of demons. She is not aware of her own power or what she can do. You can't just charge into her life and rip it to shreds." Inuyasha studied his fingernails, long and razor sharp. Sango was fighting a loosing battle. "Never mind," she sighed.
Inuyasha snorted gracelessly. "I'll be sitting right here when she arrives."
And with that, Inuyasha sat on the floor in the middle of her living room, legs and arms stubbornly crossed. Sango did not bother, at that point, to inform him he'd be waiting there three days. Instead, she merely kicked him out of her house.
***
She had expected the phone call.
"Sango," growled her father. She leaned her hip to the kitchen counter.
"Yes, sir. We have to do this project together," she said before he could argue with her. "It's the way it's been set up, no ifs, ands or buts."
"I will call the school."
"Yes, sir."
Father rang again half an hour after that and laid down the law.
"No weekends," he snapped. "Only during daylight. They are to be gone by dark and there will be none of this nonsense of meeting in silly coffee houses or whatnot. This will not interfere with your chores or your work. Kohaku is not to be inflicted with the radical harm of these outsiders and his schedule will not be interrupted."
"Yes, sir." She frowned when she saw Inuyasha leaning around the corner to the kitchen, having invited himself back into the house once the sun had set. She briefly ensured the blinds remained down and the shades drawn. They were.
"Be sure to pick up through the house; any and all artifacts of the order are to be put away and hidden. And though mere outsiders they may be, I'll not have my house looking like a mess for them."
"No, sir."
"I will be checking your grades to ensure that no other class work suffers from this ridiculous show of collaboration." Her father snorted. "Teach my child teamwork? Do they think my parenting suffers so greatly that I did not teach it myself?" Sango carefully did not answer that rhetorical question. "You are an independent soul, Sango. I do not imagine you will need to be lending too much time and effort to these children."
"No, sir."
"Good girl. I'll have the order check in on you from time to time and be sure my rules are being followed as I have set them out before you." Sango nearly winced as she looked back to Inuyasha.
"Yes, sir." Inuyasha snidely mocked her.
"I have indulged you this far, girl, in allowing you public school as is promised to all students of the order when they excel. I still, however, both as a councilman and as your father, have the right to take it back and return you to a school more befitting a child of the order." Sango knew a threat when she heard one.
"Yes, sir. Understood, sir. There will be no breaking your rules."
"This is a most ridiculous assignment. I'll never understand these public schools and why it's so important to you to tend one. Were you not already so well disciplined I'd worry that it corrupted her mind."
"No corruption here, sir," she quietly lied. Inuyasha muffled a derisive snort.
"Sango," Father said and this time his voice, oddly, gentled a fraction, though it would have been difficult for anyone else to notice it. Uneasy, Sango frowned and gestured Inuyasha to knock it off. He didn't.
"Sir?"
"She is no longer a part of this family. She has not been for two years. Why do you continually ignore my authority in the matter?" Sango's jaw clenched as she bit off the words.
"You may deny her being your niece, but she is still my cousin. She was over only once. Sir."
"I can overlook phone calls and I can overlook the occasional visits. I understand the pair of you were once close and it was I, after all, who was gracious enough to plea her defense."
"Yes, sir."
"But while I know your mind is pure to the order –" she bit on a rag to hold back the harsh bark of laughter "—Kohaku is not yet so civilly trained. His mind is young. I want that girl no where near him. Personal visits will stop this instant." She slowly removed the cloth.
"Yes, sir."
"And Sango?" She waited, silent, because his voice had turned harsh and serious once more. Not good. "I know you lent her money. You will get it back."
"Sir, she –"
"I want my money back in my account and serving my house. Is that clear?"
"Yes." Silence. "Yes, sir. Perfectly clear, sir."
"Good girl." He hung up.
***
Miroku lounged back on the old cot in the little room the monks had given him and read various texts of Buddhavacana all bound together into one book. He had multiple publications of books with the same name and carefully worked his way through each and every one when he had the time to do it. The different schools put into Biddhavnaca different sutras, vinaya, and abhidarma, and with it brought their different views, their altering ideas.
He didn't know who was right, if anyone. It was always, in his opinion, wise to know all the different views and angles. From it, his spiritual beliefs grew and deepened. Buddha, he had always felt, was like a diamond, reflecting many different faces and aspects. It was for the follower to dig deep within his or her own soul and discover what it meant.
Despite some contrary belief, Miroku took his theological studies quite seriously indeed.
"What're you doing?"
Miroku lifted the book to look to the little yokai boy peering up at him over the edge of the cot. Miroku kindly smiled.
"Hello, Shippo," he warmly greeted. "How are you today?"
"Fine." The little fox child clambered up to sit on Miroku's belly and took the book from him, flipped it this way and that, but since he couldn't read, he only pretended to. "Ah, I see. You're reading a dirty book, but without the pictures, you think I can't tell." Miroku snorted on inelegant laughter.
"Not hardly, young Shippo."
"I know you, houshi. You're reading something with dirty words." Miroku chuckled and plucked the book back into his own possession, closed it gently and set it aside. Shippo rose and fell with Miroku's chest, arms crossed. "What is it then, then?" he ventured to ask at length.
"The teachings of the Buddha."
"Well, you are in a shrine, I suppose it's to be expected. From time to time."
"Well, thanks for that."
"How come, if you know how to exorcise yokai, you never try to with me?"
"Yokai is not necessarily a synonym for evil," offered Miroku. "And you, my friend, are nothing near to evil, are you?" Shippo shook his head. Miroku patted the top of his fluffy red haired skull. "As pleased as I am to see your ever smiling face, why aren't you with Kagome? I am under the impression she is very much your favorite over me."
"Well, she is, but I don't know where she went. We were playing hide and seek, then I couldn't find where she went to hide, and so I came here instead." Miroku blinked.
"She's still waiting for you to find her?"
"Or she got hungry and went home."
'Home' being the house across the lawn where the Higurashi family, landlords and owners of the property and the shrine itself, lived, permanent residents who followed their patriarch – a man Miroku had only ever met through Kagome, so only knew as Grandpa. Miroku sat up and Shippo scurried to the ground.
"Let's go find her, shall we? She's not likely to be far." Shippo led the way out the door, a bouncing ball of red fur and massive green eyes.
"How's life been treating you?" Miroku wondered, meandering his way after the yokai child, and subtly inquiring into his well being. Shippo was a prideful thing and defensive of his caretaker. He answered easily enough, this time, and so Miroku was instantly put at east that things were generally well for the young yokai.
"Fine, fine," he contentedly replied. "While she's at work, I'm happy enough being here." She, of course, being the young woman who had taken Shippo as her ward. He came and went as he pleased, between the shrine and the girl, depending on whatever shifts she was working. "No more break ins to the apartment in a couple of weeks now, so that's good. She still hides money in the freezer sometimes, so I hide it in my shirt when I leave so no one will take it if they break in again. But when I'm at the apartment I put it back do she doesn't know."
"I see." Miroku faintly frowned as he inclined his head to a fellow monk in passing. "You are careful that you are not telling people you have money, I hope."
"Nope. No one knows. Except Kagome. And you. I don't think you'll try to rob me, though."
"I won't."
The silence of the shrine and the vast lawns thereof were the epitome of peace. People from the outside came and fell into reverent silence as they came to worship, to seek guidance or council. The sounds of the city beyond were muffled, so the birds could be heard, so the delicate scent of nature came with the breeze.
Miroku deeply inhaled the wafting warmth of the lawns as Shippo cheerfully hummed in a rather off tone voice and snatching up a little scrap of bubble gum wrapper as it blew past him. Miroku grinned. There were none here who did not feel veneration and even visitors in their beaten garb would collect the city's refuse than blew onto the property and throw it away. It was the least, many said, that they could do.
Blessed peace, thought Miroku. An exceptional and divine rarity. His savior, his sanctuary.
"Oh! There's Kagome," called Shippo loudly.
Miroku looked up as Kagome came around the corner of her house, walking through the green grass of the lawn. She caught sight of them and settled her hands to her hips, feigning irritation through her smile. Shippo hurried to greet her and blamed Miroku for abandoning her in the first place.
"He called my attention," said Shippo. "I told him I was playing with you, but he didn't listen."
"Miroku," sighed Kagome as she scooped up the boy into her arms. He expelled an ever suffering sigh. Of course she would believe the child at face value. Miroku frowned at Shippo but the little fox demon only smiled in his charming way and asked when dinner would be served. For himself, Miroku waved them both away.
"The pair of you are shameless," he said. Shippo wrapped his arms about Kagome's neck.
"When is dinner going to be ready?" he asked, ignoring Miroku entirely.
"About now," Kagome replied. "You want to join us Miroku?"
"Nah, I've got some things to so. I'll grab a burger on the way."
"He means he's gonna go find girls, doesn't he?" Shippo asked, looking at Kagome. She diplomatically shrugged.
"We'll see you later, then, Miroku."
Miroku waved as he walked away, left them to their happy family dinner. Girls, he mused, would be a much better past time indeed for this evening. Alas, since he'd not been home in more than a day, he decided he'd best go see that his mother was still alive.