duende

.:divergent paths:.
chapter five

Gentle sounds of pain lapped over him, intensifying his already troubled slumber. The sound caused sleep to flee from him in an instant as a pair of aqua eyes snapped open in full alert, a greenish tinge shining brightly in the darkness.

He blinked twice, quickly clearing his vision as he focused on the door leading outside... leading to her. His eyes multiplied the dimensions of the wood as guilt willed him to see the impossible. Cold opaqueness stared back at him, but the resonance of tears wormed their way through the wood, haunting him. What his eyes were unable to see his ears were able to clearly detect and a familiar knot formed uncomfortably in the pit of his belly, condemning him.

She was crying again.

Kouga rolled over onto his back with a canine whine and put his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. It was the eighth night in a row that she wept into the darkness and it was the fourth night in a row that the Yourouzoku stared up at the ceiling and asked the same question over and over again: Why do I care?

During the day, she gave no outward sign of the turmoil he caused within her. She wore a mask of indifference that Kouga found to be very impressive considering what he heard echo from her home in the night. She was obviously in pain, but hid that pain with unnecessary tasks that kept her busy and an outward expression that yielded nothing.

Sango avoided him as much as she could. In fact, she made a point of it. Of course, she tried to pass it off as mere happenstance, but Kouga knew. Since the day he apologized for saving her life, Sango put forth great effort in order to avoid any unnecessary talk between them.

Kouga found her silence to be somewhat disconcerting. Granted, he had never been closer to her, but he knew her well enough to feel certain her nightly tears and daily apathy was abnormal. She was a woman of strength and spunk. He didn't have to know her to see that, but it was irritatingly obvious that he hurt her far more than he initially realized.

Part of him was pleased that he was successful in his attempt to force her to distance herself from him. It was what he set out to do. Without her pity, he would be free to self-destruct at will. All ties to his past and reminders of his failures would be dissolved and only his date with atonement would remain.

He succeeded. He drove her away by reminding her of all the anguish she kept carefully under control. Her attention was divided as she licked her emotional wounds. She no longer treated him like a long-lost-old-friend who simply needed help getting back on his feet again.

Indeed, he succeeded in what he set out to do.

Yet, there was a part of him that felt wholly unsatisfied. That knot sitting in the pit of his belly was that unsatisfied mass of his being. It pushed his insides around like jelly as it filled him with a sense of dread. Even worse, it was growing.

Try as he might to convince that mass that Sango's hurt was the price of freedom, it refused to comply. It continued to whisper accusations and damnations throughout the day and night leaving Kouga feeling angry and confused.

'Why?'

Two weeks ago, he didn't give a damn about what Sango felt or thought. He wanted to push her away. He wanted her to hate him.

'Why do I care what Sango thinks?'

Kouga chewed on his lip as he listened to the sounds of mourning begin to calm. He heard the occasional hiccup as her tears slowly abated until only silence remained. Relief filled him when her weeping ceased, but still he focused his ears on her like a masochist, listening for more testimony to his guilt. With the sounds of lament absent for the rest of the night, the wolf was free to slumber once more, but he knew he would find no peace there.

He felt guilty, sure... but did he truly regret attacking Sango at her most vulnerable spot? Even if he did regret it, he couldn't take it back. Logic told him that the current situation was for the best. He was supposed to want this reaction out of her. He was supposed to want her to hate him. He never considered ever apologizing to anyone before and he was surprised to find himself even flirting with the concept in regards to Sango. Frustrated and confused, the same questions continued to spin through his mind, demanding a level of honesty he was still unwilling to give.

To those questions, Kouga had no answers other than annoyance with himself for even entertaining such queries. She was not his friend and she was certainly not Kagome... so why waste time on unnecessary concern? Why did the sound of her tears in the night wake him up out of his dreamless sleep and prevent him from returning to that state?

The first three nights his nocturnal restlessness was entirely due to what she said to him. She told him to live because he was the last. Simple pride fueled his ire. Her inability or unwillingness to understand his position was esoteric and he tossed and turned in the night, fuming. It took a good three days for that fire to burn itself down to the point where he could think more objectively.

As much as he loathed to admit it, she did have a point. Once he died all trace of the Yourouzoku would die with him. There were other tribes and other wolves, but they were not of his blood and his clan. All of the history and tradition of his clan would die with him. It would be as though his family never existed at all.

For some reason, that thought sparked an anger within him he had not felt in well over a year. Unlike all the rage clouding his heart since Naraku's defeat, this emotion was not directed toward himself. It was a motivating anger that tasted familiar and urged action. However, what specific action and to what end remained elusive.

Kouga grunted and sat up, propping his back against the wall and pulled his knees toward his chest. She was just nosey. She didn't set out looking for him, she was sent to find him because he ate that villager. That was the true source of her concern. She didn't actually care about him. Friendship and loyalty had nothing to do with it, so why should he feel such things toward her?

Why did he care?

'...because she cares...'

Kouga dipped his head forward, allowing his loose hair to fall about his face and shoulders, obscuring him behind a black curtain.

She did care. Far more than she should. Far more than he deserved.

'I should leave...'

That idea was steadily gaining strength. The temptation was strongest the day she pronounced him healed, but guilt somehow anchored him in place. For the first time in almost a year, he felt good physically. He could leave at any time and Sango and her pet would not be able to stop him, but Kouga suspected she wouldn't try to stop him anyway.

Still, he was honest with himself enough to admit that he didn't really want to leave. While his drive to atone for the past still burned brightly in his heart, a new sense of destiny seemed to be budding in his mind, preventing him from running full speed at death. He was the last. Didn't that carry its own weight of responsibility? Weren't his people worth remembering? Wasn't the history of the Yourouzoku worth telling and teaching?

If he left, where would he go? If he stayed, how long would it be before she simply told him to leave?

Kouga stood and walked soundlessly out into the night. His eyes sought out the center of his thoughts before settling on the small house where Sango slept within. Frowning, the wolf was aware of only one thought stirring in his heart:

'I'm not welcome here anymore. She would be better off if I left.'

• • •

Something warm, wet and rough scraped against her chin and cheek, pulling her toward wakefulness. She batted it away, effectively earning her a few precious seconds of relief before the sensation returned.

"Ki-raa-raaaa..." the taiji-ya moaned in protest as she pushed the persistent youkai away with a bit more force only to feel the cat nudge her chin and resume grooming Sango's face.

Sango swatted the cat youkai lightly on the snout before pulling the blankets up around her chin. Exhaustion stubbornly refused to let go of the sandman's gift as Sango grumbled incoherently. Her body clung desperately to sleep, soaking up as much rest as it could after several bleary nights of tossing and turning.

Kirara would have none of it. Too many precious seconds were already wasted trying to rouse the girl. Growling deep and low, the cat youkai nudged the taiji-ya's shoulder, this time with enough force to push the woman onto her side. All at once, the grogginess of sleep vanished and Sango realized with a start that Kirara was fully transformed. Alarm sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins and her hands longed to feel the weight of Hiraikotsu. She stood tense and strong as she opened her mind to feel the energy around her, seeking out the threat that caused Kirara to transform and waken the taiji-ya.

Nothing. She couldn't detect any evil youki at all.

With great care, she moved silently toward the entrance of her home. Peering out into the pre-dawn darkness she frowned in confusion as she turned questioning eyes toward her partner. Kirara trotted past her as she led the way to answer Sango's questions. The taiji-ya hefted Hiraikotsu in readiness as she followed the cat. She stretched her awareness as she jogged, but still she felt nothing.

Disquiet shadowed her thoughts, then puzzlement when the cat paused by the entrance to the wolf's temporary home to glance back at Sango and growl before continuing down the path toward the forest. The taiji-ya's steps slowed to a stop just a few feet before the cabin as understanding caught her in its tight grasp.

Kouga was gone. Without looking, she knew it like she knew the sun would rise in the morning. Kirara woke her because Kouga left.

She was alone. Again.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she tried to ignore the sadness that teased at her. As though self-aware, the sadness mocked her attempts to dismiss it as it fanned out across her palette of emotions. It pierced her sharply as it dissolved the first few layers of the grudge she nursed for the last week. Emotions and disjointed thoughts ebbed and flowed within her, leaving her feeling disoriented and empty.

During the time that Kouga stayed with her, the village didn't feel as large as it normally did. It felt huge before his arrival, but not while he was there. Even in his cruelness, she was surprised to realize that she was glad to have someone to talk to again... but that didn't mean they were friends.

He wasn't her friend. Of that, she was certain. The emptiness of the village echoed her convictions and all she could do was stare at her feet.

Stare at her feet as she tried to rationalize her feelings.

He wasn't her friend. Not like Kagome and Inuyasha were her friends, and especially not like Miroku. She took care of him because she felt sorry for him... because she could identify with him.

He wasn't her friend. She shouldn't feel hurt because he left in the middle of the night and she certainly shouldn't care that he didn't even say goodbye. Sango shook her head in the attempt to clear her mind and compose herself.

'It must be my time of the month,' she thought dejectedly as she turned back toward her home. Why else would she feel so sensitive about such things? After all, she knew all along that he wasn't really her friend.

Quiet footsteps lead away from the now vacant house carrying a heart that felt twice as heavy as it did before. Sango cursed her foolishness as tears stung her eyes for the second time that night.