Title: Kinship

Author: Kenkaya

Genres: Drama/Family/Fluff/Friendship

Type: Oneshot, Post-series

Rating: PG, K+

Pairings: Miroku/Sango, lightly touched upon Inuyasha/Kagome

Summary: After joining their quest, Sango found herself easily falling into place within Inuyasha's ragtag group… but, she soon learned, none of them could compare to the strangeness that was Higurashi Kagome.

Disclaimer: The characters and story of Inuyasha are copyright of Rumiko Takahashi, Viz Media, and other corporate someones who aren't me.

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After joining their quest, Sango found herself easily falling into place within Inuyasha's group. The speed at which she did was somewhat alarming in the beginning. She was the last taijiya: a people who had been inherently separate from the rest of Japan, complete with their own culture and laws. The loneliness she felt upon learning of their deaths (everyone- her father, Kohaku…) had been all-encompassing, absolutely devastating. Her place in the world was gone, ripped away in the span of a single night. With nowhere else to go (no place to fit in), tagging alongside those who also sought vengeance against Naraku seemed only logical. It didn't matter that they were a ragtag collection of individuals; that one was a cursed monk and another a hanyou. Sango was a bit unconventional herself.

But, she soon learned, none of them could compare to the strangeness that was Higurashi Kagome.

Sango didn't know what to make of the girl at first. She claimed to be from the future- hardly difficult to believe with her unique garments and the odd, nonsensical phrases that occasionally peppered her speech. The food she offered them was incredibly flavorful for travel fare: durable and long-lasting to an almost unfathomable degree. She fought with a miko's abilities as well, though she never addressed herself as such. Most nights, once camp had been set, she would pull thick books out of her pack: arranging them around her plush 'sleeping bag' in a display of study that certainly put their resident monk to shame. When Sango asked if her family were scholars (a reasonable conclusion upon seeing her ready access to that amount of dense, written material), the girl had only blinked, perplexed, before answering with a bashful negative. She didn't elaborate further. Kagome seemed to elude any concrete label that could possibly describe her.

Until the sixth night-

"This is my future, Inuyasha!" Kagome exclaimed, waving one of her books casually through the air as she engaged in, what Sango had quickly discovered, was a routine argument.

"Yeah? Well right now we need to focus on looking for Shikon shards!" Inuyasha huffed back. "You can go back through the well an' work on your future all you damn want after that's done!"

"I can't just put things on hold like that," Kagome groaned, dragging an open palm down her face in a gesture of pure exasperation. "Do you have any idea just how far missing next week's exam will set me back?"

"Are these exams important in your time?" Sango asked, finally building up the courage to satisfy her curiosity; and if her question had the added effect of breaking up an impending fight, well, that was just a welcome perk.

"Very important," the other girl stressed as she sent the hanyou a pointed glare. He simply snorted and jumped into the branches of a nearby tree to avoid further confrontation.

"How so?" Sango prompted further.

"I must admit, I have wondered about your studies myself as well," Miroku interjected from his position across the fire pit. His unexpected support buoyed Sango's (still) unsteady confidence while interacting within their group.

"Well, you see," Kagome began thoughtfully. "In my time, just about everyone goes to school when they're young. We start off learning basics… like reading, writing, math, history… but later on they start testing us, and our skill in these subjects help determine our future..."

She then continued on with a long, detailed explanation of grade levels, high school entrance exams ("which I need to study for right now, Inuyasha!"), university majors, and, finally, how one's placement in all these areas determined which jobs they were qualified for. Sango honestly didn't understand how such a needlessly complicated system could possibly function. But, there was one very surprising result of Kagome's ramble.

In a taijiya village, both boys and girls started training early (just like the future Kagome described), followed by a series of tests and trials as they grew older. These challenges separated those with an aptitude for youkai extermination from the rest, many of whom would move on to fulfill necessary jobs inside the village walls. Veteran exterminators also used these milestones to decide which positions within a team junior taijiya were best suited for. The world Kagome spoke of seemed a convoluted, convex mirror of Sango's old life, and the young woman said as much soon afterwards.

"Really?" Kagome perked up, the book she tried to study from earlier lay forgotten on her lap. "I never would have thought that… but I don't really know anything about taijiya, so I guess that's a silly thing to say. What was your training like?"

With that ice-breaker, the two began exchanging stories while Miroku leaned back, listening intently. Shippou yawned, curling up by Kagome's feet as they talked- discovering parallel experiences ("Ugh! I had a teacher like that too! Nothing I did was ever good enough… it was so frustrating!"), comparing differences ("You were already working in the field at ten?! Something like that would never be allowed in my time!"), and sharing fun moments ("... And the first time I practiced with Hirakotsu I smacked myself in the face before I even let go of the grip! Father couldn't stop laughing long enough to properly correct my form that day!").

"You're so focused, Sango-chan!" Kagome complimented after hearing the tale of Sango's last solo assignment (Before that night). "I admire that… see, I'm not sure what I want to do when my schooling is over. That's why I need to work hard now! Keep my options open, you know? At least... until I find something I'm passionate enough about to pursue single-mindedly."

"It's a lot of hard work," the taijiya spoke, raising a hand to cradle her chin wistfully. "But that feeling of accomplishment afterwards… there's nothing like it…"

"I bet."

Sango realised right then she'd found the one thing she never expected to have again- not since she climbed half-dead out of that cold, shallow grave.

Kinship.

It was a connection she wouldn't take for granted, not while they journeyed towards a future haunted by shrouds of uncertainty. Not even when they came across Kohaku (alive but far from well), and she almost forsook her new family to redeem the old. Sango persevered: clinging to Inuyasha's validation, Miroku's empathy, but, most of all, to Kagome's acceptance. Her sister-in-spirit was always there with an open ear or offered shoulder. Up until the final confrontation against Naraku, she was there.

Two years and a completed quest later, Sango longed for the time traveller's presence in her life once more.

A great deal had changed since that campfire night. She was a married woman now, settled in Kaede's village with a pair of demanding twin girls. They competed viciously for their father's doting attention (though Miroku hardly did much to dissuade them), and ran circles around her once they figured out how to balance properly on tiny legs. Inuyasha helped out occasionally in his own rough-edged manner- usually dragging a kicking Shippou along with him. Kohaku didn't visit often as she liked at times, but having him back in any capacity was more than she dared hope for back then. She still missed Kagome's easy companionship everyday, though (for the most part), Sango felt lucky to have stumbled across such a welcoming home.

For the most part.

She noticed shortly after the twins were born: six weeks and two days to be exact. The sky was a clear, pale blue, with a pleasantly crisp spring breeze rustling through the trees. Miroku had taken their children for the afternoon, giving his wife a much needed break from the particular chaos only babies could conjure. Sango really had intended to rest at first; but then her tired brown eyes landed on Hiraikotsu propped against the wall, and her out-of-shape body suddenly itched for action. Reaching over to reverently brush dust off the last relic of her people, the taijiya hoisted her treasured weapon before heading outside for exercise.

Weakened muscles flared to life during her warm-up stretches, burning distinctly from the get-go. Embarrassed by her poor performance so early on, Sango decided to remain behind her house as she trained. Pregnancy weight and a heavy chest worked in tandem to throw off once flawless coordination, while her lungs struggled painfully for air that used to come in easy gulps. Despite those obstacles, eventually she fell into a familiar, soothing rhythm with her katas. Finally, she felt confident enough to throw Hiraikotsu; a wistful smile graced the young woman's features when she let go.

"Sango-sama?!"

She fumbled the catch, but somehow managed to grasp the weapon without hurting herself. Annoyed, she turned to face her unexpected interruption.

"Yes, Midori-san?"

Her neighbor, Midori, stood on the dirt pathway between their homes': back bent in mid-lean to hold back her rambunctious two year-old son. Even though the women was only a few years older than Sango, several permanent lines had already etched themselves along the corners of her lips. The grey cloth holding back her dark hair had slipped askew, probably during the frantic scramble of keeping up with her child, numerous wild strands falling free to frame her round face.

"Pardon my intrusion, Sango-sama," Midori apologised timidly, lifting her squirming son up into her arms. "But… I couldn't help wondering… why are you out with your weapon?"

"Oh," Sango sighed, thinking the woman must have feared danger was imminent. She used the hem of her pink yukata sleeve to wipe beaded sweat off her brow. "Just doing some training before my husband returns with the children. I'm still a bit out-of-shape from the birth… it's going to take a bit of work before I'm battlefield-ready again."

"You… still intend to go out? To exterminate youkai?"

"Of course," Sango answered, perplexed. "Soon as I've built my strength back up."

"I see," the older woman whispered. "I suppose… I'm just surprised."

"Surprised? Why?" Sango truly didn't understand the logic; a taijiya followed their calling until death, regardless of life changes.

"Well… you have a family to consider now. What does your husband think?"

"He…" the younger woman paused, unsure how to respond. She had just assumed- Miroku made no indication he expected her to stop fighting after they married. Why would motherhood be any different?

But he was not of her people, and suddenly Sango was overwhelmed by the thought maybe she was alone in thinking nothing would change. For the first time since that campfire night, she felt the full lonely weight of being among the last.

Later that evening, over dinner, she broached the subject to Miroku.

"Give up exterminating?" he repeated, rocking their eldest twin while she fed the other. "If you want to… I never thought you would, though."

"I don't," Sango clarified immediately, stroking the cheek of her youngest while the babe suckled. "I just… wasn't sure if you expected it. Things were different in the village, mothers always returned to duty once they were able… and it occurred to me today that perhaps we didn't share the same ideas about our future. We never talked about it."

"If anyone can handle being both a mother and a warrior, it's you," Miroku smiled, shushing the baby gently as she began to loudly demand her turn at the breast. "I can't imagine you any other way, to be honest."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As it was intended to be, my dear."

Empowered by their conversation, Sango mapped out a steady training regimen the very next day. Slowly, she built her stamina back up and pregnancy fat began to shrink away. A couple weeks into her new routine, Inuyasha dropped by to offer himself as sparring partner, "if you ever need someone to pound ya into the dust," or so he claimed. She magnanimously accepted his invitation to, "act as my personal weapons' dummy on occasion." Sometimes, the taijiya practiced with children strapped to her back and chest; the two aspects of her life tied together in ways that felt like validation.

Not everyone seemed to agree, though.

The signs (as always) were understated: a vaguely snide comment here, a squinty-eyed side glance there. Caught up in the fear of what Miroku might think of her lifestyle, Sango had failed to anticipate the villagers' disapproval. She was blindsided.

Sango had found the villagers to be largely accepting of her job early on (perhaps in part due to the continuous presence of warrior miko like Kikyou and Kaede). Their open-mindedness was a large determining factor when debating where to put down roots with her husband. Midori's meek words, "you have a family to consider now," echoed through her mind every time she felt unfriendly eyes on her back. The rhythm of her katas followed the cadence of sharp whispers. An unmarried, or even newlywed, woman warrior was clearly seen as perfectly within reason- but, as a mother, her role and priorities were expected to change.

Her tajiya pride would never roll over for those expectations.

Seasons passed. The girls spoke their first words, stood on wobbly legs, then graduated to boundless running in short order. Five months after her clumsy reemergence with Hiraikotsu, Sango left the twins in Kaede's care and accompanied Miroku to an exorcism: her first since they were born. She was still a bit rusty, high on adrenaline in the aftermath like a green exterminator, but fell back into the swing of things easily enough.

"Have I ever told you how radiant you look flushed from the heat of battle?" Miroku said during the walk home, grinning suggestively.

"Not recently, no," Sango bantered with a promising smile of her own.

"Oi! Leave off 'til we get to the village! You two are makin' me sick," Inuyasha groused. He accentuated the sentiment by crossing his arms petulantly (shoving balled fists inside voluminous red sleeves) and huffing.

"Now, Inuyasha," Miroku chastised as his wife shook her head at their antics. "It's only to be expected… we are, after all, a young healthy married couple riding out the effects of battlelust…"

"Miroku!"

"S… Shut your damn mouth, monk! I don't wanna hear it!" Inuyasha shouted. Face red, he moved well ahead of them on the dusty road with a bounding leap. Sango watched his retreat, an embarrassed blush still coloring her cheeks at Miroku's candor. Several awkward, silent minutes passed before she pinned the monk with a sidelong, deadpan stare.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

I simply saw an opportunity and struck when the moment presented itself," her husband said with a soft, innocent smile that didn't fool her for one second. A wayward arm snaked around her waist, a subtle embrace she gladly leaned into. Inuyasha pointedly ignored them the rest of the trip.

Sango continued to structure her life around exterminating- training mid-day while her children napped, telling bedtime stories of tajiya lore, and entrusting the girls to Kaede or Rin while she went out on jobs. Inuyasha and Miroku often joined her. The trio made an efficient team, fighting alongside each other again like days long past, though their traditional banter had changed in light of altered dynamics. They continued working in an easy rhythm- until familiar symptoms forced Sango to temporarily hang up her weapon once more.

Her second pregnancy was far less frightening than the first: easier, predictable in a way her twins (by their very nature) had not been. As before, Kaede was an invaluable source of comfort and Miroku doted much as she let him. Inuyasha went back to performing small acts of care, the same ones that had so surprised her the first time around, with far less gruff covering his intentions than usual.

Even so, the weeks leading up to her son's birth were marred by a growing sense of alienation. She was no longer the expectant mother the villagers believed her to be when she carried the twins: ready to set aside dangerous pastimes and devote herself fully to a new docile lifestyle. Midori didn't stop by with offers to help around the house this time, the random visits (filled with unsolicited advice) from other village women never resumed; her field of support narrowed considerably by comparison. The contrast was startling.

Often, when she sat alone with her children during those idle months, Sango found herself reminiscing. She sighed, looking back on days when they traveling outside the village for weeks on end- when sunset meant breaking camp, and she sat in front of an open fire polishing Hiraikotsu while Kagome told fanciful stories. Most of all, though, she simply missed her friend. The future Kagome described seemed like a society where everyone was expected to contribute, much like the one she grew up in. Whenever neighbors waved from a distance, only to walk away instead of engaging, she wondered about the future. Did mothers in that time abandon jobs they spent years of their childhood preparing for? Or, were they like tajiya? Did they return to their duties (regardless of personal risk) once their bodies had healed? But, ultimately, the questions always boiled down to: if Kagome were here, would she understand?

I'd like to think she would, the taijiya thought to herself, reaching down to rub her increasingly swollen belly. She was my kin… she would. Sango didn't realise then, that her question would be answered only a few short months later.

She was running across a field- infant son strapped securely against her back, Miroku just ahead with the girls- and Kagome was there in Inuyasha's arms. She was the same, face slimmed slightly and body fuller, but the same. Tears filled her warm brown eyes when she saw them, smile wavering between restrained and overwhelmed as she greeted them.

"Miroku-sama… Sango-chan…. Shippou-chan… I'm back."

A celebratory atmosphere lingered over the following week. Everyone, even residents from far off villages, came to pay their respects. "Kagome-sama" took the attention in stride, both gracious and humble- though she admitted one night at dinner (after some blunt, yet surprisingly strategic, prodding on Inuyasha's part) that all the pomp left her feeling embarrassed more oft than not.

"Nobody talks to me like that on the other side of the well," she explained. "It's been so long since anyone addressed me with an honorific other than, 'sempai.' Back there, I'm just part of the crowd… just one of many girls graduating high school…"

"You helped bring down Naraku, protected this and other villages," Miroku said from his place across the central pit, sitting cross-legged and passing bites of rice between the twins- one balanced expertly on each knee. "People remember what you did for them here. Why wouldn't they express their respect and gratitude?"

"She's not like you monk," Inuyasha scoffed dramatically from his place beside Kagome. "Using people's gratitude to swindle extra goods out of 'em every time we take care of rampaging youkai… good riddance, I say!"

"Now, now, Inuyasha… some of us have families to feed…"

"I know," Kagome interjected before a full argument could brew. "I know they just want to thank me. And I appreciate it, really! All the attention… it's just an… adjustment."

"Keh! Just tell 'em to get lost if they're bugging you."

"I… Inuyasha! That's rude!"

"So?" he snorted in retaliation. "They have us to thank for their petty lives already! You don't owe 'em nothing!"

"Well, there is something called tact," Miroku supplied not-so-helpfully, breaking into chuckles when the girls on his lap began chanting, "Fight! Rude uncle fight!"

Sango smiled at the familiar scene, rocking a sleepy baby in her arms, finally feeling that her home was (at long last) complete. The fire popped: spreading warmth, along with comfort, throughout the room.

"Ah, speaking of fights" Kagome spoke up suddenly, ending the argument rather anti-climatically. "I should probably start practicing more rigorously with the bow so I'm prepared to face youkai again. I joined archery club three years in a row to keep up… but it's really not the same… so, Sango-chan, how long until I have a partner?"

"What do you mean?" Sango questioned back, perplexed.

"Sorry… I meant, you just had Komori, so how long until you're well enough to train with me? I mean, I assume you'd need to train and get back in shape too before you return to exterminating... right?"

"Y… yes," the taijiya stuttered- cheeks flushed, but not from embarrassment or shame. Joy and pride filled her heart to bursting, because Kagome had never asked or expressed doubts; she simply knew. My sister-in-spirit… of course she understands.

"I waited six weeks after the twins were born," she said through overwhelming emotions. "But Komori's birth was easier and I probably erred more on the side of caution than necessary to begin with. I'll be joining you soon enough."

"Sounds good," Kagome nodded, absently brushing dirt from her red hakama and seemingly unaware of just how momentous her words were for the other woman.

"Yes… I can hardly wait."

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A/N: So... this little Kagome/Sango friendship piece kind of got away from me and ended up at 3500+ words. Not quite the short introspective I thought it'd be. But, I had already decided to explore a few more ideas and take this story past Inuvember, keeping the theme of exploring a different relationship each chapter, so there's at least three more chapters to come (and the next one will probably be up some time tomorrow since I just need to edit it).