A/N: A brief, but hopefully meaningful chapter. Many thanks to YFate, who remains an inspiration.

Chapter Seventeen

He listened for what felt like hours, and though she'd tried to keep the gory details to a minimum, Sango quickly discovered that once she began talking, her story surged forth like a tsunami. She might have intended to keep the details sparse, but the slayer revealed far more than she ever had to anyone. As painful as the memories had been, she was relieved to finally share them with someone in that cathartic purge ... surprising as it was that that someone was Hiei.

Still, Sango found he was a remarkable listener. Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to talk to him. He'd said little, the occasional question or one-sentence commentary was all he'd contributed, though that in itself it was gift enough. As much as she loved her friends, they did most all of the talking. Normally, Sango preferred it that way. She'd always been rather quiet; it was part of her training and personality in general. She seldom engaged in idle chatter, having been taught that words should be as deliberate as action and used only as necessary. But she sometimes needed the outlet, too. Kirara had been the only one she could turn to in such times, and even then she did so sparingly, knowing the tiny demon was as personally invested as she and couldn't bear her mistress' pain.

Sango felt her chest constrict at the thought of her neko companion. She'd seen the wound her brother had dealt her, the one she'd taken in Sango's stead. It was bad. If she'd been wounded that way in the feudal era, the demon slayer would not have been nearly as concerned. However, a great deal of time had passed since then, and as much as it pained her to think about, Kirara was growing old. She worried that she could lose the neko this time; was terrified that she would die before Sango could make her way back to her. She honestly didn't know if she could bear the loss.

"She'll recover," he remarked, matter-of-factly. "She is old, but she remains able-bodied and resolute."

Sango jumped, startled at the reflection of what she'd just been considering in the confines of her own mind, and her eyes narrowed on him in the soft glow of the cavern in which they recovered. "How did you ...?"

"I can sense it," he answered, tapping the side of his head with what limited movement he could manage as though it were explanation enough. He sighed, irritated when she didn't quite pick up on his meaning. "The jagan. It knows, even if I'm not consciously entering someone's thoughts, I can still sense them when they are particularly strong."

"I see," she said, somewhat uncomfortable with the knowledge. While she knew he hadn't outright entered her mind, the fact that he could was troublesome.

"I won't, you know," he assured, knowing instantly where her mind had gone. "Demons like Naraku might stoop to mind rape and invasion as a means to an end, but personally, I find it in poor taste.

"But I can't shut the jagan off completely," he drolled. "It has a mind of its own, you know."

Her gaze drifted to the dirty white bandana he wore. She had seen the eye many times in the last few weeks, watched the dark glow illuminate the fabric as his consciousness projected out to locate jewel shards. Sango knew a fair bit about jaganshi, but found herself curious nonetheless. It was a rarity in her time, one she couldn't say she'd ever encountered.

"You weren't born with it," she observed, a question but not really.

He hesitated, regarding her openly from across the cavern in search of an ulterior motive.

"No," he answered candidly, though not without caution.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Hiei blinked, frankly surprised at her perception. This time it was his turn to question.

"My father told me about it once," she explained. "It's a painful process, leaves the recipient weakened and vulnerable. You aren't the type to endure such unless it was necessary. You must have had a very good reason to want the gift of Sight."

He said nothing for a long time, and Sango thought she might have pushed her luck too far until he sighed audibly and lay his head to the side to make himself as comfortable as possible on his bed of dirt and rock. "It matters not."

She raised a skeptical brow but allowed the matter to drop without a fight. Something told her she'd find out in due time.

The huntress stood and brushed the dirt from her backside with her uninjured arm, limping her way over to kneel before him. He stiffened at her proximity but did not pull away when she gently took the leg that she'd splinted and bandaged to check the dressing.

"It's soaked through," she mumbled, rifling in her things for more bandaging and cursing when she found only a scrap with which to work. Sango glanced to the tattered remains of his clothing - hardly a suitable replacement in that condition - and then to her own uniform. Well, it wasn't perfect, but it was in far better shape than his. The demon slayer clenched her jaw, prepared for the pain of using her arm to steady the fabric while she pulled, and then tore up the length of her left leg.

"What are you doing?" he asked rhetorically and mildly uncomfortable, eyes widened at the exposed flesh. "I told you, it will heal on its own. There is no need."

"You can still get infection," she responded, paying him no mind as she unwrapped the blood soaked gauze binding and discarded it. She examined the abrasions carefully, using the scrap of bandage she had left to clean the oozing wound once more before she set to the task of rewrapping, despite his protests. "We'll be held up that much longer if you're fighting infection and fever, too."

"Damn it, woman," he grumbled. "Stop fussing. I'll be fine by morning."

"Yes, well you will now," she insisted, securing the last of the fabric tightly before sitting back on her haunches. "And you won't if you don't get more rest. I'll keep watch tonight, you need to sleep."

He grunted, perturbed by her incessant mothering. "I can take care of myself."

"And in the morning, I'll be glad to let you," she said, never missing a beat. The demon slayer sat back, settling in a little closer than she had most of the night, but still kept a fair distance. "Now sleep. I know you need it."

He leveled her with an unfriendly stare and his trademark "hn," but let his muscles ease nonetheless. He wasn't going to admit it, but she was right. He could feel the exhaustion weighing down on his abused body. If he wanted to expedite the process at all, he would have to sleep at least some.

Sango smiled just a little, triumphant in her win, and settled in for the long night ahead.

He woke sometime just before dawn to find her shivering and exhausted, nodding off from her nearby place in the dirt. True to her word, the girl had remained awake throughout the evening, allowing him to recover from his injuries while she put her own on the backburner. Hiei stirred, pleased to find the effort had not been in vain when he stretched his arms above his head and arched his spine, two things he had not been able to do just hours before.

Still, he noted with no small amount of irritation the stiffness in his neck and phantom pain in his legs. He'd taken a hell of a beating when they'd fallen through the earth, cracking bones and tearing muscle as they tumbled down into the caverns below the surface. It could have been worse though, he supposed. The girl had been fortunate enough to miss the brunt of the rockslide and was able to dig him out of the rubble, despite the handicap of her arm.

She was stupidly selfless in that way - many ways - he was beginning to realize.

He sat up slowly, watching the slayer as again she drifted and then caught herself, shaking her head abruptly to fight the sleep threatening to overtake her.

"You should rest," he said, using a nearby boulder to spot himself as he carefully rose to his feet. He felt the pressure on the breaks healing in his legs and clenched his jaw tightly, determined to work through it. "I can keep watch now."

"We should start back," she began, barely coherent.

"A couple more hours will make little difference," he interrupted. "Besides, I'm not going to carry you back to the surface when you collapse from exhaustion. Sleep."

She couldn't truly argue the point and nodded faintly, rolling onto her side and curling into a ball, her arm tucked under her head like a makeshift pillow. The demon slayer drew herself in tighter as she shivered once more, and Hiei sniffed and rolled his eyes when she tried to clamp down on the chattering of her teeth.

Honestly. Humans and their mortal bodies.

Hiei eased himself down behind her, drawing his knees to his chest and draping his arms over the top, and with a measured breath focused his energy into his core. A soft thrum and glow filled the air around him, and when he opened his eyes once more he found her turned on her side toward him. Her shivering faded away as he made himself a makeshift stove, and Sango blinked sleepily and smiled.

"Thank you," she yawned, drifting. The slayer was out almost instantly, the sound of her soft, rhythmic breathing growing deeper as she descended into a heightened state of unconsciousness.

He watched her there for a time, pondering the curious shift between them. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have cared whether she was cold or comfortable or anything else. He wouldn't have bothered to interfere in the fight with her brother, nor would he have gone out of his way to help her start - and possibly finish - a new weapon.

Yet, somewhere along the way he'd grown accustomed to her presence. The vile invective that had begun their discourse eventually turned to almost a quiet camaraderie. Hiei was still of the mindset that friends were a crutch for weakness, but he could appreciate a healthy alliance. He hadn't truly been willing to accept even that between them until she had disclosed the details of the conflict involving her brother and how she had come to travel with the dog and his companions.

She had surprised him, truthfully, in a way that very few had ever managed. Yusuke had been the only one in many years to exceed his expectations and earn his respect. And now, begrudgingly he had to admit, so had she. It took a strength of will like no other to climb out of one's own grave to avenge the loss of family and clan; and then to keep going in the face of a heartache so great and terrible in the manipulation of her brother was truly remarkable. While he'd made it a point to avoid any connection that would leave himself vulnerable to such pain, he understood the bond of a sibling too well. It was innate for human and demon alike. Hiei had known grown men - demons - unable to carry the kind of burden she had and keep going.

Had she been like most humans, she would have long ago given in to the darkness. But still she stood on her own two feet. She used that thirst for vengeance, wielding the darkness to her own advantage. It wasn't entirely unlike the dragon, he realized.

He understood now why she was so proud and defiant, even to her own detriment. Hiei supposed he could relate to that, really. Though the circumstances of their struggles did not compare, they two - demon and demon slayer - were not so very different.

She stirred, rolling over in her slumber, and Hiei noted the way her hair fanned across her cheek, bruised and bloodied from their fall. He recalled the way it felt between his fingers that night on the balcony of Chu's apartment, and again he found himself uncharacteristically curious. He reached out before he could think better of it and brushed the wisps of dark chocolate away from her face, his touch light as a butterfly's wings as he tucked the silken locks behind her ear.

But yet, they were different, weren't they? He paused, knowing that while they each fed on the darkness in some way, her motivations were far more altruistic than his own. Not that it mattered or bothered him ... except that in some small way he couldn't explain, it did. He shifted uncomfortably, withdrawing his hand with a disgusted snort.

What did he care, anyway? So she was strong, he'd known many who were. So she was wounded, who wasn't in some way? So she was beautiful, he could appreciate beauty without being swayed by it.

His eyes drifted to her sleeping face, watching the way her eyes fluttered beneath the veil of unconsciousness, and Hiei knew without using the jagan that those dreams weren't pleasant. They seldom were. He'd noticed the restlessness in the last few weeks; he'd seen the weight of exhaustion in the mornings. He supposed now he understood why.

Still, it changed nothing. He'd make certain of it.

Yusuke slid through the cafe on his back, cursing as he struck the wall on the far side of the room with a decided thump. He sat up and rubbed his cheek, staring at the dog demon closing in on him again in disbelief. Damn, but he had a mean right hook.

Inuyasha scooped him up by the collar and struck out again, ignoring the clatter of broken dishes as the poor schmuck manning the counter dropped a whole tray when he dove behind a nearby booth to avoid the path of their destruction. The dog demon's eyes bled over and Yusuke grabbed hold of his wrist, and threw a solid punch of his own.

"What the fuck, Fido?!" he cried angrily, spitting the blood from his lip and wrenching the demon's grip from his shirt.

Inuyasha was undeterred, hunching down and hurling a vicious blow to the detective's stomach. He smirked triumphantly when Yusuke doubled over, giving him the chance to grab a fistful of his slick black hair.

"You know what the fuck," he hissed, jerking the detective's head back so that he could look him squarely in the face, despite the blur of his vision. He shook the detective roughly, growling. "Just what do you think you were doing?!"

"Inuyasha stop!" Kagome cried, grabbing hold of his sleeve.

He leveled her with his fierce golden stare, unfocused and furious in his frustration. "Shut up, Kagome! You're no better, letting him climb all over you like that. Did you like it? Did you fuck him, bitch?"

The priestess flinched, stung deeply as her eyes filled with tears once more. He had some nerve!

"Now you listen here -"

But the detective was having none of it. Yusuke hauled back and plowed the demon down with one good, solid blow to his sternum, smiling darkly as the dog lost his grip and flew back into the booths behind them.

"How 'bout you just calm the fuck down," Yusuke hissed, his voice carrying the impact of a thousand stones upon the sand as he walked over to hover above the demon as he lifted himself from the ground, his feet unsteady as he stood. "We'll do whatever we damn well please."

Inuyasha glared from beneath the veil of his hazy vision, pinning the detective in his scalding scrutiny.

"Stop it, both of you." The priestess' tone left no room for argument. Kagome drew a deep, pain filled breath as she rubbed her temples and sighed, angry and frustrated. "I belong to no one. I am not some prize to be won. So, you can get over yourselves right now. My mother and brother could be fighting for their lives and you're arguing about who gets to take me out on a date like a couple of children," she chided.

Inuyasha colored and Yusuke looked to the ground, both at least having the grace to appear remorseful as she chastised them thoroughly.

"I belong to no one," she continued angrily. "And I won't waste anymore time on your boyish competition."

Kagome turned on a heel, stomping over to the old psychic in a huff, and Genkai couldn't help the smile that crept its way to her lips as she looked at the dog and the detective, both dumbfounded in her wake.

"I guess she told you," the old woman teased.