Sango sat beside Sesshomaru all night, holding his hand and trying to force her humanity through their bond.

Her soft voice cracked as she whispered the lyrics to their song into his ear.

"Tell me what to do." She lay beside him, closing her eyes against the budding tears. Crying wouldn't help. She needed a clear head. Maybe, just maybe, they were connected beyond the physical. How many times had she felt his thoughts in her mind, felt his frustration or discomfort?

She imagined that was floating, that the only thing connecting her to this plane was Him. When she opened her eyes she was in his mother's sky palace. A red string was tied to her pinky, leading her through the twisting turns of an empty castle.

A wall of portraits to her left gave her pause. A golden eyed toddler stared back at her, eyes bright with joy. His giant smile seemed to dim with each year. By the time he was seven you could barely tell he was missing a few of his baby teeth.

Each portrait afterwards was filled with straight faces and frowns, cold eyes, intimidating stances.

The light returned five years ago. His expression was still flat, but the light seemed to flicker in his eyes, like a basement bulb that was underused.

"When he's back, you'd better bring him for a new portrait." The whisper was nothing more than a phantom, but she knew InuKimi had said it. Two hands shoved her towards a room.

The red string hummed as she grew closer.

"Yome," he was standing by his window, holding a scroll to the waning light, "I see you've found me." His room was filled to bursting with giant scrolls on various matters. If she had the time or the interest she'd pull out the texts and inspect them, just to understand him better, but she didn't have time or interest so she moved on.

"You are really too calm." She rushed into his arms, careful of his precious scroll, but also not really, "how are you just relaxing here when you won't wake up in the real world?"

He shrugged in her grip, "there's nothing to be done at the moment. I'm trapped in my own mind. The only way to wake up is to wait for something external." He squeezed her tight, rubbing his cheek on her hair.

"Tell me how to help you." Her voice was muffled by his robes, but neither seemed to want to let go.

He pulled away from her, peppering kisses on the top of her head, "I can't do that." His ears colored under her gaze as he headed to the wall of cubbies.

"Yes you can. I don't care what it is. Tell me and I'll do it."

One thing Sesshomaru needed to understand was that Sango would achieve her goals by any means possible. His life would forever be worth more than any petty discomfort.

He picked up another scroll, unrolling it experimentally.

"Maru!"

He sighed heavily and dropped onto the magnificent four poster bed his mother had insisted he keep. Around fifteen he'd decided that sleeping was rather plebeian, but she never let him be rid of it. Just in case.

"It's a conflict of interests for you. I can't ask you to do it."

She crawled over him, gripping his shirt in her fists. Sango didn't want to cry, but Sesshomaru was being difficult. Conflict of interests? Who cared. Sango had no interests when Sesshomaru's life was on the line. Tears were running down her nose and dripping onto his cheek, "tell me. Or I will tangle your hair when I return. I'm not even gonna braid it. I'm just gonna muck it up."

He paused, "have you been brushing my hair?"

"You sure are scatterbrained today."

He rolled his eyes at her, "we're inside my mind, Genius. You're literally just hearing my thoughts."

He pushed her off of him, sitting up and glancing around. This pocket of peace had been surprising. He hadn't expected his happy place to be his mother's palace, but it wasn't totally unexpected. She was always the one to help him patch up the many lashes from his father.

She'd blow raspberries into his cheeks until he cracked a smile and then she'd send him on his way.

"Maru, please." Sango held his hand, gazing up at him, "the sun is rising. I'll have to go soon."

He ran a hand through his hair, "human broth." He wanted to shut his eyes against her reaction, so he wouldn't have to face the disgust in her eyes, but he didn't.

"Human broth?"

"Whenever father got too hurt, or his yoki was on the fritz, mother made him human broth. The difference in energies all boiled down, they did something unknown within a demon's body."

When she said nothing he found himself rambling to fill in the blanks, "I understand that it's weird and that you might not want to do it. It'll be fine. I can recover on my own, I'm sure."

"Everything? Do I boil down the hair and the teeth? What about the skin? Will I have to skin them?"

She looked sick and sad and determined. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

"Everything. Just boil it all down, I guess. I'm not entirely sure, but my mother should know."

Sango huffed at him, "your mother lives in the clouds."

He peered out of his window. The sun was rising and, if Sango wanted to get to his mother before the woman decided to run off on whatever errands she concerned herself with, she'd have to move quickly.

"Stand where the clouds are their heaviest and whistle four times through your fingers, three short, one long. She'll hear and she'll come. Be warned, she may be a bit cross that she was summoned that way, but she'll live."

Someone was shaking Sango, ordering her to wake, "make sure you talk fast-," his voice was fading and the room was falling away around her, "she may try and kill you."

She shot up in the cabin, glaring, first, at the man who'd offered her such critical information as she was disappearing, and then second at Rin.

"Kagome asked me to wake you for breakfast."

Of course.

"I won't be having breakfast. I need to get to the place where the clouds congregate, but thank you anyways. Watch over Sesshomaru for me, please."

XxXxXxXxXx

Sango spent the better part of the morning searching for clouds on a cloudless day. So she wandered, whistling that tune as she searched for any puff of white.

When a massive canine came hurtling towards her, she nearly screamed. Sesshomaru was large, but this dog seemed even larger. However, her fear was piqued when she realized that it was growling at her and she hadn't said a word.

"Sesshomaru needs your help."

The growling ceased. There was a bit of an explosion as the demon dog turned into a familiar woman, "of course that bothersome son of mine taught you that atrocious tune." InuKimi looked Sango over a few times. There was a demon sword on her hip, demon markings on her face, yet her blood smelled distinctly human, "what are you? And how do you know my son?"

"I'm Sesshomaru's mate and I'm human."

The demoness turned her nose up at the idea, sighing that he was just like his father, "and what has happened to this bothersome boy of mine?"

"That's still unknown," Sango admitted, "all I know is that his yoki is locked and he says that your human broth may hold the answers to his condition."

"I cannot imagine how hurt he must be if he's sent you in his stead."

Sango made a squeaking noise, "comatose?"

InuKimi sighed heavily, very much a melodramatic being, "well then, I suppose we should collect two or three human men, some ginger, and boar's liver." Her claws glowed as she flexed her fingers, her expression one of intense inconvenience, "let's fly."

XxXxXxXxXx Modern XxXxXxXxXx

Miroku woke in a sterile white room, much like the day he found himself in this strange world. His body ached from being pummeled by debris.

Shippo.

In an act of desperation he'd slapped a sutra onto the boy's forehead. Just another person he'd hurt in his selfishness. He wanted it to end, needed it to end. The window beside his bed was a beacon, an outlet, a friend. No more guilt, no more shame, he could practically taste the asphalt and his fingers itched to slide the window open.

But he couldn't. Shippo's turquoise eyes shone with such fear and determination. Even as Miroku fought against him, Shippo had dragged the man through chunks of falling concrete and off the edge to safety. He'd disregarded his own safety for their friendship and, no matter how sweetly death seemed to sing, he owed it to him to survive.

Even if it was only for a little bit. He'd get Shippo home, back to his friends and lover, and then he'd do what needed to be done.

He'd hurt Sango. Time and time again he'd turned his back on her, leaving her to cry in the woods. Whenever he feared that she'd take no more of his infidelity, he remembered the way she'd smiled when being pronounced as his bride. She'd been radiant.

Sesshomaru had been there too, staring at his bride from the very back of the ceremony, golden eyes round as the sun. It was like someone had flipped a switch within him.

If only Miroku had seen her that way.

He tried to purge the memory of Sesshomaru pulling his wife -exwife- into the sky. His hair had shone like starlight and his eyes never once left hers. They twirled about like something from a fairytale and when he landed on the stage, fake snow making him look like the prince of ice, he knew that he had lost. Sango was crying before the question had left his lips.

All the while Miroku's hatred grew.

"If you're so guilty, why don't you just apologize?" Shippo's voice snapped him out of his reverie. There were too many wrongs to right and an apology couldn't fix it. The kid didn't understand the kind of trauma and distrust he instilled in her.

"Because she'd forgive me," and heaven knew he didn't deserve that. If she never faced him again he would say it was too soon.

a.n./ I got no reviews last chapter and I am TYPE hurt. I live for the validation of strangers lol JEEZ. Hopefully you all like this chapter more :)