Wheee, I finally managed to write the chapter, and in a shorter time than the last one! *proud of herself* Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I thought there'd be no one left after such an extremely long wait. All I have to say is school is evil =(   Enjoy!

They acted so blatantly normal the next day that she thought the night before must have been a dream.

Kagome smiling, Miroku calmly sly. She decided she had to have been asleep when all that had happened, but her belief shattered, when, as Miroku was ushering her out the door, Kagome whispered, "take good care of her, then."

But how could it be? How could this kind, energetic…handsome…person be dying?

The word "dying." It was murky, uncertain, always bring forth the smell of dying flowers and darkness; never the assurance of hope. She associated none of this with him.

"Miroku sama?"

He turned to her, a pained expression flickering across his features before his "nani?" He knew she'd seen it, but both of them pretended he didn't.

"How old are you?"

"Why…why do you ask?"

"I'm only wondering."

"Ninteen."

Sango quickly turned so he would not see the expression on her face. Ninteen. Ninteen. She longed to ask him what why…what was happening to him, but she didn't want him to force him to tell her. Not if he didn't want to.

After all, she thought as she followed him, I barely know you.

But the nightmares still came at night…always the same nightmare.  They forced their way through her subconscious, leering in the background of even the happiest moments. She thought that, in spite of everything, she could continue to live the life of a naïve little child, ignoring everything that she knew was the truth. But there were times, like now, when the horrors manifested themselves brutally before her eyes, and stuck there.

And finally came the day when Sango could call him a friend. It was that day, at that very instant, when the realization came to her.

They were sitting on the temple steps. Inside, she could hear dinner simmering, and her stomach rumbled.

Miroku was busily distracted by her presence, as he usually was when they were together.  Instead of letting his guard down, he had to be on his best behavior. Or else his instinct might just take over and he'd grope her, and then she would slap him, and the trust he'd worked so hard to build would shatter. But…damn! He could barely stand to be around her…and her soft hair…her trusting eyes…her…stop! He lectured himself.

Over the pat few weeks of getting to know this new Sango, he found that he loved her. It was still Sango, after all. But still…somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he may have simply been lying to himself, turning his head the other way from what was true. Somewhere behind his eyes, his heart still ached for the old Sango. 

It took him a moment to realize that she was talking. "Miroku…?"

Miroku still wasn't used to hearing his name spoken from her lips like that.

"Hai?"

"I've been…I've been having many…strange dreams," she said, twisting her apron in her lap. The fabric was mangled beyond recognition in a few more moments.

"What kind of dreams?"

"Not dreams…nightmares. I've been having nightmares."

"Tell me about them," he said, desperately hoping she wouldn't say what he thought she would.

"It's always the same dream…there is a little boy…his name is Kohaku…We're fighting…then I am watching him being killed, and then, I feel a sharp pain in my back…and then…I wake up."

Her eyes sought him, hoping he could provide her with the explanation she desired.

"I see," Miroku said, dismayed.  As much as he'd wanted to hide it from her, it still did exist somewhere in her mind.

"Demo…do you not know about them, then?"

An the inner conflict which had plagued him for weeks and weeks-tell her or not tell her- suddenly raged fiercely. Now was the time to decide, but he remained as irresolute as ever.

"So you do know something," she said decidedly, seeing his hesitation. Her heart pounded suddenly and madly in her ears. Now was the moment of reckoning.

Miroku glanced around, as if searching for help, but there was none to be found.

"Can you finally tell me the truth?" She asked. Her voice was not demanding, but to Miroku her voice was suddenly prying, and even in its silence he felt her yearning to know.

"I…" He finally managed to say.

"I'm not stupid," she added, and this time their eyes met.

"I know…but…I was only trying to help you," he finished, knowing then that there was no way of backing out. She knew that he was hiding something, and there was no denying it.

"By lying to me?" Her voice, which had started out calmly, rose a pitch.

"Sango, don't get upset. It's only because I wanted to protect you," he protested weakly. Never had she seen Miroku look so flustered. In the back of her mind, she found that his embarrassment made him look almost….cute. But it didn't curb her anger a bit.

"Protect me from the truth? From my past, from what I've been wanting to know in hopes that I could rebuild myself  somehow? All this time, you've been lying to me. I'm not a child, Miroku, and you don't have to treat me like one. "

Her words felt almost physical. His name, with no suffix, no title, said so harshly and plainly, rendered him perfectly still. For a moment, he thought he saw the old Sango in there somewhere, when her eyes flashed angrily. He thought she might hit him, but instead she spun on her heels and marching off in the opposite direction, her straight spine saying to him, I hate you.

"Where are you going?" He demanded, his voice tight.

"I'm getting away from you," she said adamantly, "If all you're going to do is waste time making up cute little stories for me and dancing around the truth, I'm not going to waste time. I'm just going to start over with a whole new identity."

And she meant it. He could sense the fierce warrior determination, even now.

"I'll tell you!" He said desperately. He'd lost her once-no, twice, because when she lost her memory she had disappeared again. He wouldn't let it happen once more.

She stopped, turning slowly around. "Will you now? How do I know you're not lying to me again?"

"Trust me," he said, the houshi's manner returning once more.

Sango studied him again, then took a small step foreword. "And for some stupid, idiotic reason, I believe you."

He could have yelled for joy then, or perhaps rushed up to her and embraced her. But instead, he said, "Let's go for a walk."

Unbeknownst to the pair, Kagome and Inuyasha stood a little off to the side.

"You remember when I said Sango was falling in love with Miroku a long time ago?" Kagome commented.

"Yeah," Inuyasha said, "and who cares?"

"Well, I was right the first time, right?"

"Get to the point, woman!" He demanded, impatient with Kagome's little insights.

"Well," she continued, purposely drawing her words out, watching Sango and Miroku walk away together, "I think she's falling in love with him all over again."

So he told her everything. He didn't hold back a bit, letting his voice remain passive throughout the entire gruesome tale.

She listened silently without comment. Sango felt no connection to the unfortunate girl in the story, none. Had it not been for the boy in her dreams…Kohaku…she would have told him he was lying again and telling the story of someone totally different.

But his sweet face…engraved in her mind. When he finished telling her, she said nothing.

"Sango…?" He said, afraid that this revelation had hurt her.

At this point, she didn't know how she should act. "I'm here," she said, but still not quite certain of that fact.

He nodded and silently looked away. They were sitting on the top of a grassy bluff.

Everything was strangely clear to her. Miroku was sitting little more than two inches from her, but now the distance seemed to make him uncomfortable.

"There's something I still don't understand," she said slowly. Miroku looked at her- looked at her, but also looking as if he wanted to run away.

"Why are you here? Who are you, anyways?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. By that tiny action, she felt something inside her jump, strangely attracted to his every movement. But instead of waiting for her heart to flutter, she listened to its already quickened pulse, each thump one of sickening dread.

"It is because I am cursed," he said in a voice heavy with solemnity.

"Cu…cursed?"

Nodding, Miroku held his covered hand with the other.

"Naraku cursed my grandfather. He passed this curse on to my father, who passed it to me. The only way I can rid myself of it is to kill Naraku."

"I see," Sango said, who only for the first time really was starting to see.

"It is an air void in my hand," he continued flatly, "When I uncover it, it seals everything inside. Soon, by the looks of things, it will take me too. Soon I will die."

Sango's hand flew to cover her mouth, which had opened in a gasp. "Di…die?"  So, then, all this time, her misgivings had been true? And at that moment came a flash of desperation.

Don't go, don't leave me! Screamed a voice inside her head.

But outside, all was silent, and Sango let her voice remain as calm as his.

"Yes, I will die soon," he said, matching her demeanor. It was a game, only a game, and losing would mean certain hysteria. They both had to remain balanced on that thin line of placidity or they would fall into its pits, never to return.

Sango eyed his hand skeptically. "I just don't believe it, though," she said, trying to imagine a hole in his hand.

But Miroku said something  surprising. "You don't have to believe in it," he said softly, "Sometimes, the only way of living with it is not believing."

Sango's heart nearly broke. She was so afraid that the tears would flow, and that was something that for some unknown reason could absolutely, positively not happen. She was certain of only that one thing.

How could he speak so calmly of his own doom?  How, when the perfect, pure future full of hope and light was destroyed, shattered?  

Miroku kept his eyes on her the whole time, seemingly searching for a sign of inner torment.

He saw nothing…did she even care?

"What will you do?" She asked in a voice filled with anguish.

"I am going to take care of you," he responded, and Sango blushed-deeply.

"But…but why?" She stammered, again painfully conscious of their nearness.

"It was my entire fault in the first place," he said, "And besides, I would do it anyways."

And she knew then that she was right, and that she didn't need to make him talk any more. It was obvious. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he moved his hands, in the quick sideways glances he shot in her direction when he thought she wasn't looking. He loved her.

Her hand moved slowly, as if compelled by some invisible force. And as Miroku felt the soft touch of her hand on his, he was startled, and thought it was a mistake.

But as her fingers hovered over his, he moved his hand into hers until their fingers were interlocked. As Miroku felt how tightly she held him, how her fingers trembled slightly, she knew she was afraid. For her, for him. For both of them.

Miroku suddenly felt exhausted. This whole ordeal of explaining everything to her had drained him of all his remaining strength that remained after nights of lying awake, pondering his next action.

The grass behind them was soft and inviting, so he let himself fall back into its bed, pulling Sango's arm.

She felt the tug on her arm and turned. Miroku looked at her lazily from behind her, his expression warm. She felt his heart tugging, too, telling her to come. So she did.

They were in another world, a floating, warm place surrounded by their throbbing hearts. At the same time, though, there was an underling, rushing desperate fear. And as Sango felt their arms touching, she wanted him to let her go. But at the same time, her heart ached for more and more of his touch.

Miroku knew then that he had to accept it. He didn't want to think about it, but it was true, it was coming true. Sango would probably never come back, and when he died her old self  would remain silent.

But yet Miroku felt himself playing the same idiot game again, the same one that had played before. Saying that she couldn't let himself love her, he let himself flirt with other girls.

But the hurt on her face, the same hurt that had been there before. Only this time, there was no anger, only a bewildered curiosity. He couldn't even look her in the eye.

But I thought you cared about me, her eyes said to him, what, then are you doing?

It was all pointless, but he was trapped now in the stupid circle of fate, and he couldn't make himself stop.

He knew the time was coming soon. He could feel himself fading from the inside, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

There were only days left, a week at most. Sango didn't know; no one did. One day he would just simply cease to exist.

He was not afraid. His whole life, he'd known that this day was coming. Now there was only a calm acceptance. The only feeling he felt was that of extreme remorse. If only…if only he hadn't made the mistake of pushing Sango away back then. Dying would almost be a relief now…he wouldn't have to think about it any longer.

But one day, a day like any other, the unexpected happened.

They were still at the temple. They had gone nowhere in the hope that Sango would recover her memory, but this wasn't a spoken resolution. It was merely something they all had tucked away in the corners of their minds, but this hope was fast fading

A girl came to pray for her brother. As she was leaving, Miroku caught her eye.

"I've never seen you around here. Are you new in town?"

"Ah, hai, I am. We just moved here a week ago."

Miroku smiled and nodded and began to speak to her intently. And in the shadows, Sango watched.

Something was stirring. A feeling…unlike what she'd felt before. She didn't know where it had come from. It was not the quiet hurt. It was…anger. Burning anger, violent anger. Throbbing and leaping inside of her, pushing out, possessing her. It made her want to rush over and scream at him, slap him, maul him.

So she did.

The girl leapt away in surprise as Sango blazed over to him and struck his face so hard that it began to bruise instantly. And as she saw his face cloud over in disorientation, she saw other things. Times before when he'd smiled as she slapped him, times when she'd cried, when he'd groped her. He flirting with other girls, she shedding silent tears over him. But they were from long ago.

She felt pain, anguish. And then she saw the face of her brother.

As if the murkiness around her suddenly cleared, the water became pure again, and she saw everything, and knew again her name, and who she was.

She remembered.

The girl had disappeared, and only Miroku remained, ogling at her.

"Sango? What are you doing?"

For a moment she just glared at him. "Houshi sama, I can't believe you're such a shameless flirt even after all this."

The first thing Miroku noticed was the "houshi sama." That faint hope appeared again, whispering persistently. Could it possibly be…?

"What do you mean?"

"I remember. I remember everything"

He didn't believe it. It couldn't be true, it couldn't be happening.

 But it was.

The girl before him was the girl he'd fallen for long ago, the one he'd vowed to protect with his life. The one who remembered everything, all the pain, the sorrow, but also all the laughter.

"You remember!" He exclaimed, and was more excited then he ever allowed himself to be. He seized her in a hug and held her there for as long as he dared.

"What's come over you?" She asked, pulling away.

"You're back," he said simply, "After all this time, after I thought you would never return. You're back."

Stay tuned for the final chapter! I'll put it up this week sometime 'cuz I already have it mostly finished ^^

x~Aurora