A final shudder, and all was silent.
Sango was too numb to cry. She reached out with a trembling hand to that smoking crater in the ground, not far from where a broken small corpse in clothes like her own was tossed.
Then warm arms held her, and she broke. It was a while before she realised they were strong and tanned instead of being pale and soft; Kagome was elsewhere with Inuyasha.
Wild blue eyes – Kouga's eyes – stared back.
She insisted on staying with them in the slayers' village despite Kagome and Inuyasha's protests; Sango dug their graves with her own two hands the way she had dug herself out of hers. The slayer heaped handfuls of frost-speckled dirt over their remains and what remained of her heart.
He came uninvited while she was lying on the cold earth, Kirara tucked around her neck.
"You'll fall sick."
"I don't care."
"Then you'll die."
"Good."
Kouga frowned, his tail flicking.
"Nah – you won't die."
"Why not?"
"You're too strong for that."
Blinking, she sat up. For the first time that day, she felt the cold and shivered. He left then; she was glad.
He came every day after that; welcome or unwelcome, Kouga would not be dissuaded from his short visits.
"You need someone to check on you, see whether you're still alive," he said matter-of-factly, squatting on the earth, nose twitching as she uprooted the weeds lining the graves. "I don't trust that mutt to, neither is he going to let Kagome do it."
Kirara hissed, reminding him of her presence. He did not even bat an eyelid.
"Yeah, Kirara. I know you're here too. But sometimes, you need to hear a voice, y'know?"
Before she could say anything else, he was gone.
Today, she was pleased. Sango had gone one day without visiting the graves. It was purely to convince Inuyasha and Kagome she was fine in the slayers' village; but their visits were becoming infrequent. They were moving on in life while Sango stayed resolutely put.
She had no problems with that.
Kouga appeared, his eyes and nose sharp as ever. "You don't smell of dirt," he observed.
"No."
A smile, accented with a hint of fang.
And she smiled back.
"I smell the mangy wolf – he's been here," growled Inuyasha.
His wife tugged not-so-discreetly on his sleeve and the hanyou quietened. Sango pretended not to notice.
"Sango-chan, are you really alright here by yourself?" asked Kagome for the millionth time.
"Yes, Kagome-chan," answered Sango patiently for the millionth time. "Don't worry about me. Besides, I'm not alone." Kirara made a sound of assent, loyally curling around her mistress' leg.
And this time she was not thinking of cold bones mouldering in earthen pits.
Kagome caught the look and nodded, almost to herself.
She woke with her hand lying in front of her; fingers splayed over the floor as though reaching for something. It flew back to her face, brushing her fringe away, the movements sharp and jerky as though she was embarrassed.
Sango folded up the bedding and put it away. It looked like a nice spring day outside – beyond the circle of the slayers' village, the sun shone bright and the blue sky seemed to stretch out forever.
All was uniformly grey in Sango's mind.
He was waiting for her to emerge from her hut; seated at the base of the sapling Kagome had planted a year ago.
"Yo."
"Kouga."
"You're awake."
He did always have a penchant for stating the obvious. It made her smile some of the time; most of the time, it just reminded her of what was going on in the world around while she stood still.
"So are you."
Grinning, showing off twin gleaming fangs, he got to his feet and walked to the gate, a hand raised in jaunty farewell.
"Bye, slayer."
"You're leaving already?"
He stilled. "Not if you want me to stay for a while."
Hesitantly, Sango approached him. Kouga smelled of pine, water, mountains, of outside. She had never come this close to him before.
"I'd like that."
She told him about the slayers as they worked to rebuild some of the fallen huts; about their beginnings, their lives and their grisly end. Nothing could faze him; he merely listened. Kouga was both a good listener and a hard worker.
"You've gone through a lot," he remarked, hefting a beam.
"So have you," she answered, nailing planks together.
He grinned, setting the beam down and patting the sides of his legs. "I still kinda miss those jewel shards."
"More like you miss leaving Ginta and Hakkaku in the dust," she teased.
Kouga snorted. "Not my fault they run so slow. They spend their energy asking me to slow down and pulling faces like this – " he made a face which Sango supposed was a mixture of indignant, pleading, fed up and plain tired.
He looked absolutely ridiculous.
She smiled – which turned into a grin – which turned into a giggle – which turned into full-blown laughter. Kouga looked pleasantly surprised.
"That's the first time I made someone laugh intentionally," he commented with the air of a bemused child, and Sango cracked up all over again.
Eventually, he gave up trying to understand the reason for her laughter and settled for watching her. Without realizing it, a half-smile appeared on his face.
"What about Kagome-chan?"
He blinked. "Kagome?"
"You love her."
"Loved her," he corrected. "She never wanted me. I'm not that stupid, you know."
Sango looked down. "When did you know?"
"Long ago. But I had hoped I could win her heart."
"Women are not prizes to be won."
"A pity, don't you think?" He smirked; before Sango could respond, he had got up and left.
It seemed Kouga was a lot smarter than he let on.
She was seated on her crumbling porch, drinking a jar of sake purchased from a neighbouring village when he showed up. Kirara was out hunting; she detested the smell of alcohol and flat-out refused to be anywhere in the vicinity when someone was drinking.
He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. Why do humans drink that?"
Maybe she was already drunk; maybe the moon was full and the stars were out; but Sango laughed and poured herself another cup. "It helps me forget."
"Forget what?"
"Pain. Sorrow. Hurt. Loss."
Kouga arched an eyebrow. "There are better ways of doing that, y'know."
Before he could leave, she caught hold of his tail with lightning-quick – though rusty – reflexes. He was clearly not expecting anything like that, judging by the way he allowed himself to be caught.
Then that wolfish grin spread across his face. "My, you're a fiesty one, aren't you?"
"I wasn't going to let you leave until you stop dropping those lines and leaving me to think them over."
He gently removed her suddenly-limp fingers from his tail; his hand was warm and solid. "You could have just said so, Sango."
His eyes were no longer the pale washed-out colour they usually were; rich deep blue, like the sky. But beyond that, there was the intensity with which he stared at her.
Like she was the only woman in the world.
"You know my name," she mumbled.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I've never heard you say it."
Sango remembered the last time Miroku had looked at her like that – never again – and tears blurred the deep blue eyes. Kouga's fingers gently brushed her cheeks, wiping them away before they could fall.
"Houshi-sama," she breathed.
"No," he corrected softly. "Not Miroku."
"That's right," the slayer whispered, closing her eyes. "Kouga." Not Houshi-sama – Miroku – ever again.
And when she had cried herself to sleep, Sango woke up the next morning wrapped in her blanket, her head in his lap.
"You didn't leave," she said stupidly.
He quirked an eyebrow. "You didn't say you wanted me to."
"I don't."
Instead of the grin she was expecting, Kouga simply smiled. It suited him.
Kouga stayed that day, the next and the day after that.
"You're not going back?" she asked as she went about her chores, Kirara and the wolf trailing after her like a lost puppy (an observation she wisely kept to herself).
"Nah," the wolf said, pushing his fringe back from his face. "You haven't asked me to leave, so I ain't going anywhere."
"I haven't asked you to stay on either," she pointed out teasingly.
"Hmf." The slayer giggled a little at his expression.
Sango lit some incense and bowed her head in prayer before the graves; Kouga stood a little off, arms folded across his chest, eyes regarding the rows of mounded earth solemnly.
"... Kouga?"
His ears pricked forward. "Yeah, Sango?"
She stood up, brushing the fragrant dust from her hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. "I'd... like it very much if you would stay."
"I thought you'd never ask."
Days turned into weeks; weeks blurred into months. Spring came back to the slayers' village.
Sango hoisted Hiraikotsu onto her back and tied the soft bag of supplies around her neck, walking to the gate. Kirara trotted merrily at her heels, glad to be out and about.
"You're sure you're not coming?" she called out to the lanky wolf seated on the porch of her hut.
"You must be mad, woman, asking me to come with you on a demon extermination job," Kouga called back.
She laughed. "You're right – you look too ferocious to be trusted."
He got up, coming over to where she stood in a few long strides. "I'll ignore that. How long will you be gone, Sango?"
"Couple of days," the slayer answered. "Are you going to mope around until I get back?"
"Nah – I think I'll go up to see the others. I bet Ginta and Hakkaku are doing a shitty job taking care of the wolves. Probably see Ayame or something."
The mention of the pretty wolf demon's name made Sango's smile slip a little.
Kouga brushed back her fringe, his claws lightly grazing her skin. "She understands, Sango. Don't worry. Damn, you ain't happy unless you got something to worry about."
Equally lightly, she brushed aside his attempt at light-heartedness. "But this – Kouga, is this what you really want?"
He smiled. "You asked me to stay, Sango. I'm not going anywhere in a hurry."
His hand found hers and he gave it his usual reassuring squeeze. "I'll be here when you come back," he promised.
The corners of Sango's mouth lifted in a small smile. "I know."