It turned out that Tetsuya was a commuter, his home being a fair ways away, so they didn't need to accompany him far, only to the nearest train station. People milled about in small groups under the overhangs, others popped on and off trains, folding and unfolding umbrellas while they did so. The trains themselves arrived and departed on schedule, their noise adding little to the din that already was Tokyo.

Under the umbrella, Tetsuya turned to face Sango. His eyes flicked over to Kagome briefly, but returned to hers quickly, looking as if they were searching for something.

"Thanks… for the umbrella," he said after a moment. She noticed in that moment that the eyelashes framing his eyes were thicker than Miroku's had once been.

"You are welcome," she replied. "It was no trouble for me." A smaller version of his usual lopsided smile grew on his lips, and he glanced over at Kagome once more.

"Thanks, Kagome. I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded, fat droplets of rain dripping off her hood, and he smiled at the two of them before heading towards his platform, jogging through the wet quickly in an attempt to remain dry. Sango marvelled at his long legs – so much like him.

Kagome sighed behind her, and then the girl's ivory hand was gently rested upon her shoulder.

"Well Sango, why don't we head home? We've got a long ways to walk now." Sango turned back to her friend, a wry smile on her lips and her dark eyes twinkling with good humour.

"Has the feudal era left you so quickly?" she teased. "One would think you would be used to walking."

"Sango?"

"Yes?"

"I think you're gaining his sense of humour."

The two of them laughed, and then they began to make their way home.

...

Sango sat on the edge of the well, her legs dangling down into its cold, dark depths. If she wasn't sure that without Kagome the well truly ended in a floor of compact dirt, she would swear that there was a breeze coming from below, ice cold and caressing her skin like a sinister demon tricking her into thinking it was a gentle human, and enticing her to jump into its eternal embrace.

She knew she had to go back eventually. Although she hid it from Kagome, this new world taxed her strength, and sometimes even frightened her. There was no rest – always was something moving. It would take her hours to fall asleep; she only realised recently the reason why: the constant, harsh noise. Compared to the silence of the feudal era, it was a thunderous, deafening roar. Always around her was the sound of traffic, or the never-ending burble of half formed words carried on the wind by distant voices. Her senses continually screamed 'danger', even when she knew there was naught. She was forever tense, her eyes expertly taking in the surroundings and ascertaining the location of obstacles, allies, and points of defence. She felt naked without Hiraikotsu, and even her hidden blade Kagome cautioned her to leave behind at home, so she often went without it. There would be trouble, after all, if anyone at school found her wearing it. Besides, Kagome would assure her, there was no need; she was safe in the modern era.

Sango sighed, running her fingers through her silken locks of dark, dark hair, the waves of it enjoying a rare moment of freedom, as she had loosed it from all bonds. The 'shampoo' Kagome had given her to use had made it feel softer, smoother, and cleaner than ever before, and she found a pleasure in playing with it that had not existed previously. The demon slayer was not used to being feminine. Always her first concern had been efficiency as a warrior, and warriors often did not have time to perfume themselves with womanly scents, or rouge their lips or cheeks with makeup. With sudden bitterness, she realised she shared more than just an ability to fight with a certain dead priestess. Both Kikyo and she were women who could not be women; their lives were filled with battles, demons, and failed love.

Again she felt a growing respect and pity for the half-demon back in the feudal era. Finally she felt she understood his situation. She hoped she was handling hers better.

The breeze brushed against her legs again, so much like cold, reaching fingers. The taijiya sighed and lifted her long limbs to swing them around, and hopped off the well's edge. Pausing on the steps, she glanced back one last time at the black square that was the well, and then she continued on in her ascent into the light.

Kagome caught her halfway back to the house.

"Where were you?" She asked with concern, but Sango just shook her head.

"I was exploring the shrine. I am sorry to have worried you." Kagome's apprehensive expression eased into a smile as she swallowed the lie. Sango felt the guilt rise. That was another reason she knew she could not stay: the shame at the constant lying would destroy her. She had not been raised to deceive. "Eri called," the girl continued, unaware of the discord currently flooding her friend. "She wanted to know if I'd like to go to a movie with her – she said you were welcome to come too. Usually I would've declined, as I've got tonnes of homework to do-" Sango could almost see her 'sitting' Inu-Yasha in her mind. She usually blamed the half-demon for her failures in her school life, but he often deserved it "- but I thought since you were only going to be here for a short while, I might as well take the opportunity to see your reaction to one."

Sango frowned a little, her mind running through all things Kagome and she had discussed since her arrival a few days previous.

"Kagome… what exactly is a moo-vee?

"Oh, right," the young would-be-priestess replied with an expression that could only be likened to a hand slapped to the forehead. "I keep forgetting what we have and haven't talked about. We've covered a lot in the few days you've been here. Remember what it was when you arrived?"

"The… week's end?" Something told her that she wasn't quite getting it right, and the feeling was only reinforced when Kagome shook her head with a small smile.

"Almost," she said with an exhausted half laugh. "It's 'weekend', just one word." Sango sighed, just as worn out by the plethora of modern knowledge she was trying to absorb as Kagome was giving it. "Let's go back to the house," the girl said, brushing her bangs out of her face. "I have to call back Eri and let her know the verdict anyway."

The two young women turned and made their way back to the house, Sango still puzzling over what exactly a movie was, and Kagome appearing to be preoccupied in her own thoughts.

"I guess Tetsuya got sick anyway," Kagome stated suddenly as they were taking their shoes off in the entry way. Sango frowned as she passed her shoes (well, Kagome's shoes) to the patiently waiting, outstretched hand of her friend.

"I am sorry, but I do not follow, Kagome."

"Tetsuya wasn't here today, or so Yuka told me, so I guess he became sick from being in the rain anyway." The girl stepped over the little ledge from the entrance to the main house automatically. Sango followed. "He most likely had to walk from the station to his home, and since he didn't have an umbrella, he probably got very wet."

The taijiya frowned as she followed Kagome through the living room, the revelation bothering her. Souta was currently seated on the couch playing video games, his expression one of deep concentration, and his exclamations of victory and defeat punctuated by various beeps and electronic ditties. The sounds chased her as she began to follow Kagome up the stairs, and a delicious scent from the kitchen accompanied it. Her mouth began to water.

"Kagome! Can you set the table for me?" Ms. Higurashi's voice called from the kitchen, effectively capturing her daughter on her flight up the staircase.

"Yes, Mama!" the girl called back, stopping in her ascent to turn back. "Sorry Sango," she said by way as apology, just as the phone began to ring, and the demon slayer squeezed against the railing to let her pass. Souta picked up as Kagome reached the bottom, and he turned to her.

"Hey sis, it's for you." He held the phone out for her, and she took it and covered the mouthpiece with a pale hand.

"I'll be right there, Mama! I just gotta take a call!"

Still on the stairs, Sango paused, wondering what to do. Her decision made, she followed the good smell and made her way to the kitchen.

"Do you need help with anything, Ms. Higurashi?" she asked as she peeked in. Ms. Higurashi herself was there, bustling over the evening meal, a cooker of almost finished rice sitting on the counter and something burbling happily on the stove with a lid – the source of the wondrous smell. At the sound of her voice, the older woman glanced back, startled, but the surprise melted away into a brilliant smile as she recognised Sango.

"Oh, I think I'm mostly done here, Sango, but thank you for offering. You can just go relax in the other room if you'd like."

"Alright," Sango replied, surprised herself at the strength of the disappointed note in her voice. Ms. Higurashi must have heard it too, for her expression became suddenly sympathetic.

"Unless…" she began slowly, "you would like to set the table since Kagome's busy?"

Sango gave a relieved smile and nodded, grateful for the woman's perception and the opportunity to help. She wasn't accustomed to being useless. It took her a few tries to locate all the necessary dishes, but Kagome's mother stayed mercifully silent, allowing her to figure it out on her own, and content to finish her own duties to the evening meal. Setting the plates down, the exterminator admired her skill at the kitchen talents, a small sorrow growing in her heart.

"Mr. Higurashi must have been a very happy man," she said quietly, still watching. Ms. Higurashi looked shocked by the comment, but only for a moment, and then her expression dissolved into a sad, sweet smile.

"Yes," she replied softly. "At least, I like to believe so. He never did anything to make me think otherwise." She lifted the lid of the bubbling item on the stove and stirred it, and the delicious scent Sango had followed earlier came wafting out.

"He must have been proud to have such a wife as you." Sango paused, swallowing the half formed lump that had grown in her throat. "I… I always knew that he, that… Miroku… would love me, but I often worried, at least when I had the time to, whether or not he would be truly happy with me. My mother died when I was young, and although I was a good partner in battle to him, I knew little of the ways of women. I wanted to be with him with all my heart, but there were always others – prettier women, and more feminine than I. Even though most of me knew that he would not betray me so, another part feared he would realise how un-wife like I was and choose another when the time came. Now… now I will never even have a chance to try." She blinked, furiously trying to hold back shame inducing tears.

"It's alright," Ms. Higurashi said kindly, softly, her hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "You… really loved him, didn't you?" Sango turned to meet her gaze, her composer regained, and nodded.

"Yes. I love him still."

Ms. Higurashi let her hand drop, her brow puckering as an expression Sango couldn't quite decipher flickered across her face.

"Sango, if you still love him, why are you here?"

Struck by the question, Sango opened her mouth in, speechless yet wishing to answer. She was about to reply when Kagome entered.

"That was Eri. She wanted confirmation for tonight…" The girl trailed off at the look on her friend's face. Ms. Higurashi returned to her cooking, silent and quietly humming a tune under her breath. "Are you okay?" she began to ask, but her mother's voice rang out at that moment, clear and commanding, yet warm.

"Supper's ready! Souta! Come eat!"

Still unsettled by the turn in the conversation, Sango set the last glass in place and took her seat at the table, her mind whirling.

If she loved Miroku, why was she here?