Allow myself to introduce…myself. I'm Crescent Venus; my genre of choice being writing for Sabrina, the Teenage Witch. I do, however, have a newly developed Inuyasha fetish, and I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try to contribute something halfway decent.

A strange plot bunny seized me last night. I normally don't do non-canon pairings for anything, but the idea was too interesting to pass up. Try and guess who the pairing is before you reach the end!

Please feel free to share your thoughts on this story. I do appreciate constructive criticism.

"…so much for my happy ending…" –My Happy Ending, Avril Lavigne


She knows it's not how the story's supposed to go, but she can't help herself.

She knows it's wrong, but she can't stop.

Late at night, snuggled next to his side, she tries to justify it. He's on the rebound, and he needs someone to be by his side. He argues with her all the time, and he needs to be comforted. He's more of a man than he'll ever be.

He's like her: lost and lonely and hurting all the time, and just wanting someone, something to stop the pain and the fear.

And maybe that's why they're drawn together. There's so much pain in their pasts, that they reach out, searching for empathy, for relief.

But it's not the way things are supposed to be. She's heard enough love stories. She knows how they go.

He's supposed to angst and mope between the other two. Meanwhile, other people—like herself—pop up into the story every now and then. Of course, they're merely obstacles, tests of love. In the end, he chooses the sweet one, the deserving one, and they run off happily into the sunset, holding hands and planning the baby's name.

And everyone else suffers. But it's okay. They don't really matter.

She was selfish. Perhaps. But she wanted him…more…more than…

He was like some magical elixir, able to soothe away pain with the lightest touch. The solace and strength she needed were in his arms.

And he needed her, too—why else did he come stumbling to her arms at night, making strange keening sounds in the back of his throat? You couldn't call it crying, not really, but she ignored it—or pretended to, at least—and he was grateful for it. In the cover of the night, in the shelter of her arms, he could release the tension keeping his innermost thoughts and feelings loose.

He could grieve freely…

And she could grieve with him.

They understood each other in a way the rest could not understand. So why couldn't they just be with each other? Why couldn't they be happy? Why couldn't they forget with each other?

She didn't know. She wished she did. Maybe the answer would erase the feeling of wrongness that tugged at her. She wanted to justify what she was doing so badly.

She loved him. She needed him to help her move on.

He loved her. He ached for someone to help him grieve for the past.

But they could not carry this on much longer. It would have to stop. Because it's not the way the story's supposed to end. She's not the heroine, nor ever will be. She's simply the tagalong relegated to the background of this love story with him at the center.

And so she lies awake tonight, watching the stars shine with a cold, pristine light, and the fireflies dance in slow traces of flickering gold. Sango wonders how much time the two of them will have left before they're torn apart.

…before she must stop it, and be caught in her pain and loneliness again. Before she will feel new pain as he leaves with her. While she can still hold him in her arms and feel his heart beat, still just for her.

Inuyasha sleeps on by her side, and she tightens her grip around his waist. Sango wants to cherish him as long as she can, before the hurt returns. She wants to pretend it's meant to be.

Because, for her, there will be no happy ending.