Chapter 1: The Scales of a Fish

            "…And Kikyo onee-sama?"

            Sango barely registered the muffled conversation, her eyelashes fluttering against her pale cheekbones.

            She recognized the soothing quality of Kagome's voice: "She took the blow meant for Inuyasha."

            And Kaede-san's low rumbling: "I see."

            When her dazed mind had fully dissected the conversation, Sango couldn't help but convulse slightly—the memories were coming back, invading her prone mind and body with a brutality akin to rape. She dug her nails instinctively into the ground around her, clenching soft material with her tense fingers. Her eyes opened groggily as she attempted to sit up, and she was immediately greeted with warm arms, a low, soft voice and a fresh breeze that smelled faintly of flowers. Something draped her shoulders; was it hair? Sango lifted her head with effort, looking up into her supporter's face with a dazed look as Kagome slowly helped her up, her gray eyes dark with worry.

            "Sango-chan," she pursed her lips suddenly, as if she were at a loss for words, wringing her hands fitfully as she searched for a tactful thing to say.

            Despite how heavy her heart felt, weighing her body down as she leaned heavily back on her leaden legs, Sango noticed her friend's discomfort and gave her a thin smile: "It's quite alright, Kagome." She then felt the familiar feeling of molten tears gathering at the corner of her eyes as the searing sensation of loss sucked her up: "No—it's not alright," she corrected herself, shaking her head before letting her dark eyes settle on her friend's: "but it will be."

            Kagome gave her friend a brave smile; which was for the best, because Sango found she couldn't make one herself, "Right."

            The sound of rustling made both girls turn to face the intruder. The reactions both girls greeted him with were as differing as white and black—Kagome gave the man a sunny smile; one of mixed relief and encouragement as she stepped away, whereas Sango merely stared at the monk with a vacant expression, her eyes guarded and hazy and her mouth almost imperceptibly curving downwards.

            Miroku caught the scene before him with sharp eyes before giving both ladies a mild smile, "Are you rested, Sango?"

            Kagome smiled faintly; she had caught his undertone plea to have some time with his fiancée-of-sorts and walked past the couple with a cheery expression: "I… uh, I just remembered! Inuyasha wanted some ramen—I'll have to go and cook some up for him. I'll see you all later."

            Sango couldn't help herself from giving a dry smile at her friend's discreet attempt to leave her with the priest. But that smile faded when she met his penetrating look: "What do you plan to do now?"

            The slender taiji-ya looked up at him with a bewildered expression—what could he possibly mean by this?

            "You're not the easiest person to read, but I can sense it."

            Sango was beginning to feel rather irritated; what was the man trying to get to? She suddenly sighed—she really had no more will to fight anymore. She would ask.

            "Sense what?"

            "Your spirit… it's restless."

He closed in on her, grasping her by the crook of her arm, his grasp warm and strong. Normally, she would have automatically blushed with the novelty of the feeling. But that was normal before Naraku's final attack. Before Kohaku's death. Before Sesshoumaru. Now, she was feeling devoid of any emotion, wasted except for an underlining emotion that still ran rampant—the need to leave. She felt the corner of her lips tug upwards as she felt herself go through another lapse of dry humor unwillingly: she wasn't going to be pretentious, but she had to admit that she had a glimpse of what Kikyo had been subjected to in her unfeeling body of clay.

"You are quite correct, Houshi-sama."

She had not been prepared for the look he gave her. His eyes were unshielded as he reached down to grasp both her hands in his. She absentmindedly noticed how his easily enveloped hers, her mind astonishingly blank as she peered up at the priest. His dark gaze bore into hers as he clenched her hands, cramping her fingers under his force, "Even after all this time… will you not grant me the honor of referring to me as an equal?"

Sango had not expected this either. She looked away, feeling remorse, certainty and pain. If she had any doubts of the impact of the last few days, she was sure now that she had changed significantly. When she lifted her face to look into his, she did not feel any tinge of pleasure, any spark of hope—she felt nothing. Nothing for him, that is. All she had were consuming sensations, inner scars that would forever haunt her, never letting her rest.

"Not now."

The pain that flitted through Miroku's handsome features made her wince inwardly—just because she was unfeeling, it didn't mean she could hurt him.

"I…I am sorry."

The priest seemed to grasp what she was unable to offer, and he stepped away, dropping her hands as he gave her a sad smile; he took his rejection well, "It is quite alright. We must make sacrifices for the changes that come into our lives."

Sango could not help but agree: How perfectly true.

            (A week later)

            "Will you leave us, Sango?"

            The young taiji-ya had swept around in alarm, her dark eyes sparkling in the light of the full moon. She only relaxed when she saw Inuyasha standing near the edge of the clearing, his silver hair glistening ethereally in the moonlight.

            She turned her back to the hanyou, reaching down to thrust the last of her possessions into her traveling pack. She would not meet his gaze: "Hai."

            The dog demon lapsed into an uncharacteristically silent stillness for several minutes as he watched the young woman arrange her equipment and hoist her pack onto her back. Only when she turned to look at the peaceful, sleeping faces of their unaware companions did he ask softly, "What would you like me to tell them?"

            Sango turned to face Inuyasha, her eyes glistening oddly in the midnight haze as she gave him a strained smile: "I know this sounds so clichéd, but I want you to tell them 'thank you'… and that I will carry them in my heart wherever I go."

            Inuyasha nodded, his amber eyes understanding as he said gruffly, "Take care, Sango."

            Sango could only nod, the tears forming at the corner of her eyes already, "Don't let Kagome get into any more trouble. Go a little easier on Shippou-chan; he's still so young. And… tell Miroku that I'm sorry."

            Inuyasha reached over, grasping the young woman by the arm with a powerful, clawed grip and hauling her to him, equipment and all, giving her a warm embrace. Sango felt the tears run down her face as she heard Inuyasha mutter: "We'll expect a visit."

Then he let her go, watching as Sango ran the back of her hands across her eyes and disappeared into the folds of the forest. He stood guard, gazing in the direction the young taiji-ya had taken until her body was no longer visible and the scent of her tears evaporated into the night.

*

The boy was odd, to say the least. He had not opened his mouth once in complaint since the Lord had told him briskly upon his awakening that he was to follow him now as a servant of Rin. He had merely looked down at his new, young charge with a forced smile and a vacant look in his dark eyes. What was the matter with the child? Was he mourning the loss of his family? How…quaint. He supposed that the boy… what was his name? Ah, yes—Rin had called him Kohaku. There truly was no need for him; the only reason why he had demanded Kohaku's company was because Rin had asked for him. The boy was utterly useless, otherwise. Anyhow, he supposed that all sorts of ridiculous human morals were squeezed into the limited space of the child's inferior mind, making him grieve for his fallen family and comrades. As the mortals said, blood is thicker than water. Pity that the saying had no rational footing.

"Incompetent human, you're lagging behind!"

The raspy, murky sound of his manservant grated against his ears. The lord turned slowly to see what had made Rin deserve such a reproach. The girl was indeed lagging behind. The great lord gazed dispassionately at the young girl, not relaying any of his emotions as he pondered his situation. He would much more prefer to make it to his domains before sunfall, thus diminishing any possible threat that could befall his company. Normally, he would not think twice about such matters, but lately, Rin had started to cough in an unsettling manner, which brought the possibility of infirmity into account. The idea of losing Rin to any illness was definitely not appealing, and the Lord knew he would have to rush, or otherwise face the consequences. At his domain, he would be able to treat the child far better than any ignorant village priest could. Sesshoumaru's amber gaze rested on the boy who traveled wordlessly by his charge's side. The boy had been looking at Rin with concern—after all, she was still but a child, and such strenuous exercise was evidently wearing her thin. The girl coughed violently, her small shoulders wracked under the force of the coughs. That was enough for Kohaku. Sesshoumaru watched as the boy stopped the girl and leaned, gesturing for her to get on his back. The girl complied, her face betraying her gratitude as she coughed fitfully into her hand. The boy straightened after hefting the girl securely behind him, his eyes dark with concern as he continued walking, crossing the distance between the two of them and the demons within a matter of seconds. The white-haired lord let his sharp golden gaze fall upon the boy before resuming their path.

Perhaps the boy had his uses after all.

**

            Sango stepped heavily through the foliage, her eyes blind to the breathtaking greenery that surrounded her. She had only one goal in mind; one thought that drove her to make each step. Kohaku. True, she had given her brother willingly to the demon lord at that time. Indeed, she had no other choice. She knew Kohaku would suffer if he were reminded of his past crimes every moment of his life. And she—she was a living reminder of that sin-ridden time. She also knew; however, that her brother was strong enough—strong enough to overcome his guilt, his shame. And she would go to him regularly, offering him a chance to go back with her, to start life afresh. It was through him that she would come into contact with her future.

            No discouraging thoughts of Inuyasha's half-brother came into mind, or the disappointment of his little ward. She did not fear any punishment from the Lord, nor did she feel guilt at the idea of taking her brother away from the little girl. They had each other, but she only had Kohaku. She would ill spare Kohaku; indeed, she was positive that he would come back to her. How long it would take until that came to pass, she did not know. But she had all the time in the world.

***

She managed to find them every year, no matter how far out they traveled, or how strenuous the journey. For the last three years, around the first blooming of spring sakura, peach and plum blossoms, the female youkai exterminator would always come across his company. Sesshoumaru had pondered the peculiarity of the meetings more than once, remembering each time as vividly as the next. She would appear in front of them, in complete taiji-ya attire from head to toe, her mask loose and hanging around her neck. Sesshoumaru noted her scent the first time around with detachment: she smelled of freshly cut mint and pressed jasmine. The wench—her name escaped his memory, and he was sure she would not be of enough importance for him to address her with such equality—would always come with a deceptively passive countenance and approach them slowly, her movements firm yet graceful as her raven-haired ponytail swayed from behind her head. The next part, which had struck him as somewhat odd the first time he had witnessed it, was the most compelling part of all. She would then fall to her knees, maintaining her silence as she reached out with her arms. Always with the same expression alit in her dark brown eyes. And every year, Kohaku would look into his sister's face with an anguished expression for a prolonged moment, shake his head just as mutely and turn from her, his head bent as he walked away from the kneeling woman to rejoin the demon lord's company. And she… she would rise to her feet and leave as silently as she had come.

The boy had been wise so far; if he had so much as gone over to his sister, the youkai lord was inclined to finishing both of them off for going against the promise the bitch had made to him years ago. Sesshoumaru knew what the woman was offering her brother: she was offering him a chance to come back with her, but she would never see that day, not when he had personally decreed that the boy would come along with him. He had planned to keep him as a companion for his young protégée, and his will would not be overlooked. What had bewildered him to some extent was a slight oddity—so slight that he had not noticed it the first time around: Rin would stand silent during this voiceless exchange, her eyes dark as she watched the pained interaction between the two siblings, her body uncharacteristically still as she took in the scene before her time and again without emitting so much as a sound. Normally, she would find no constraints in noisily greeting any other beings they encountered during their expeditions, whether they meant ill or not, but whenever the taiji-ya came that once every spring, she would remain mute, her every expression blank except for her unfathomable eyes. Sesshoumaru supposed that it was some sort of human bond that tied them all in this intricate routine of silence, but it compelled him to mull over it occasionally with its queer fashion of representing itself. He supposed it would continue to repeat itself, for he saw no sudden change in the boy's character, nor did the haunted look in his eyes seem to diminish through the years. Yet, when the woman came by for the fourth time, the dog demon found that his assumptions were wrongly founded.

This last time she had come late—a week had already passed since the first blooming of spring, and Sesshoumaru found that the boy had gotten increasingly anxious at this delay. Finally, eight days after the first signs of blossoms in the air, the taiji-ya appeared in a forest clearing. This meeting was different from all the others. Firstly, she had come late, an occasion that was explained by the sling that held her left arm and the plum-colored bruise that marred her otherwise flawless skin. She was not in her usual exterminator garb; rather, she had donned a practical traveling kimono suited for weather abuse and elasticity of action. Her hair was loose from the restraints of her usual ponytail, gathering in shiny waves on her back. Despite her injuries, she looked unusually… well, even for a human. Her gaze flickered over Sesshoumaru, Jaken and the ceremonially silent Rin before she turned her head to seek out Kohaku, the red tell-tale sign of a scar lining her fine jaw. When her gaze settled on her brother, those russet eyes silently inquiring as she slowly got down on her knees and extended the one arm she had free, her every finger outstretched as well, almost as if she were straining to reach him.

The silver-maned demon lord was not sure what convinced the boy to finally comply with her request: the empathy her injuries sparked within the boy, or the desperate expression her eyes held as she looked directly at her brother's face. Either way, it did not matter. The boy had finally given in to his sister, walking towards her with a pained expression, seeking her embrace. Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed as he brought his arms out of his kimono sleeves: she had finally succeeded in breaking their agreement, and for that she would pay. He stepped forward, approaching the two with quiet menace as he flexed his claws involuntarily. But Rin—with amazing dexterity for a mortal, especially such a young one, grasped his sleeve, restraining the demon lord with one intense look. She then turned to Kohaku, who had stopped momentarily to face the demon lord with a stoic expression, saying softly, "Go to her."

Sesshoumaru's eyes widened marginally, taking in the wistful, almost grieving countenance of his young ward, recognizing almost within an instant how much she had grown over the last few years. She was still a child, but her eyes no longer held the mindless naïveté that most young ones possess. Her eyes mirrored that of the taiji-ya and her brother. With an unreadable visage, the youkai lord replaced his hands within the folds of his kimono, turning abruptly as he nodded to Jaken and Rin, a sign that meant they were to resume their travel. The toad steward readily complied, scampering after his master as he muttered about human stupidity, but Rin refused to move, standing rooted to her spot with her back to the dog demon as she watched Kohaku kneel before his sister and burrow against her embrace.

"Kohaku," she called tearfully, a gust of wind catching one of her sobs, "remember what you promised me." The two siblings released each other before coming to their feet. Kohaku nodded solemnly, his expression dark as he waved his farewell, turning to meet his sister's expectant gaze and walking away from the fixed girl and the onlooking demons with a firm step. The young woman suddenly brought her free hand to her lips and let out a loud whistle. A miniature fox demon flitted from among the trees, transforming midair. Sango leapt onto the creature's back, leaning down to grasp her brother's hand and pull him up. Once they were both seated, the two of them disappeared swiftly into the dense foliage, leaving behind a distraught Rin and her uncomprehending demon companions.

Author's note:

Wanna know the ages? Er, well… of the humans, at least? This is how old each of them are after the four years (when Sango takes Kohaku back):

Sango=19

Rin=11

Kohaku=16

Sesshoumaru's thoughts at the beginning of the chapter may seem warped, but hey—I'm trying to get into the mind of a demon, here!

That is presuming that Sango is fifteen, Rin is seven and Kohaku is twelve when Naraku is killed.

Romance? Still to come…

Can anyone guess what Rin made Kohaku promise her? ^_~