Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing except for this small idea.

Wow, this story is getting to be longer than I thought it would be. For those of you that are about to review this chapter, chapter responses will be in my profile. As soon as I get the reviews, I will post a reply, so keep on the lookout.

Kohaku was behind her. She knew that even if he was prepared to use his scythe and help attack the demons, he would not be able to fight for long. Kohaku had never been on a proper taijiya mission before, and he would not have the courage to do something like this.

She threw Hiraikotsu at the demons, exterminating more of them. They weren't within Kohaku's range yet, and Sango wanted to keep it that way. It actually wasn't all that hard for such an experienced slayer such as Sango, and it wouldn't have been much of a strain if she hadn't gotten that leg injury.

After she exterminated about half of the demons, sweat covered her forehead and her balance was considerably shaky. Blood still soaked the material around her leg, and although it wasn't a serious injury compared to the arrows that the archers had shot at her that day, the pain wasn't any less bearable. Each time she had to put some of her weight on it to catch the Hiraikotsu, the aching pain would remind her how tired she really was.

Kohaku watched her, his concern growing.

Ane-ue's never been like this. She's been worried about my safety before, but this time it seems almost like… like desperation. Like she's afraid that something will happen to me.

But I don't know what it is, and she won't tell me.

Some time later, all the demons had been destroyed. The remaining slayers had already started to get rid of the fallen debris, and were trying to put out the blazing fires in some of the huts. Sango successfully eliminated the last demon with one throw of Hiraikotsu, but by this time, she was too exhausted to catch it properly. She caught it, but the momentum took her off balance and she fell backwards, landing on her back inches from the front of the porch, the heavy boomerang on her body.

"Ane-ue!" Kohaku shouted as he ran over to check on her. "Ane-ue!"

Kohaku looked up, removing the gas mask from his face. Tears filled his eyes as he realized what he'd done, even if it had happened while he was under control of another. "Ane-ue…" he said in a choked whisper. His gaze travelled the chain of his scythe. It lead up to where the blade had punctured her battle outfit, causing a small pool of blood to stream out of her back.

"No… Ane-ue!" he screamed, reaching out to her. The sound of arrows being fired cut through the air, and they embedded all over his body.

"Kohaku!" The intense scream of his name left her lips as she watched him fall back onto the ground, his blood staining the dirt.

The memory seemed so vivid, and she had to mentally tell herself that it hadn't happened that way, that what happened now counted more than something she had managed to prevent. Kohaku had not just hurled his scythe into her back; he had not been shoot with a volley of arrows, the hoarse scream of pain never left his lips.

The memory wasn't real. It just wasn't.

Yet Sango still found it hard to believe that she had been able to save her village and prevent it all from happening, or at least most of it. But now was not the time to dwell on what might have happened if she hadn't acted the way she did.

"I'm fine, Kohaku," she said, her voice sounding pathetically weak even for her. Sweat covered her forehead and her face looked pale and worn out. She took off the gas mask and threw it onto the ground, enjoying the feel of skin coming into contact with fresh air. She didn't feel as suffocated as before with that mask on. Slowly she pushed Hiraikotsu off her body, and it clattered beside her as she took a moment to rest.

"You're not fine!" he said, kneeling down next to her. "That injury - it's tiring you out. You have to -"

"Kohaku," she interrupted him, still lying on the ground. "Get Father. Please."

"Ane-ue -"

"Kohaku! Get Father!"

The boy got up and headed off to find their father. Sango lay there, her breathing coming in quick, hurried gasps as the pain from the wound came sweeping over her at full force. The sky was a dark blue, smoke from the fires making it look slightly hazy and almost greyish. The ground was still covered in the remnants of fallen buildings, but some of the villagers were doing their best to clean the area and put out the fires.

I am such an idiot.

She stared up at the sky, wondering just how much damage the demons had inflicted on the village before she and her comrades had come back. Her fist clenched itself against the ground as she attempted to sit up.

I let it happen again.

She tried to ignore the pain, but the combination of both her exhaustion from fighting so many demons at once and the injury prevented it.

How many people died because of me this time?

Shortly after, her father (who had taken the gas mask back to the hut with them) and Kohaku helped the taijiya into the medicinal hut to rest. It would be a while yet before things could resume in the village, but there was no lasting damage.

Still…

Sango felt as though she had lost.

Her brother was alive. She was too relieved about that fact to voice it in words, but hope for a better life for him increased within her heart.

Her father was alive. She had at least prevented that.

Then why did it feel like she hadn't claimed victory?

Naraku is still out there, she thought, as her father finished bandaging her leg properly. She would have to rest here until the surrounding area was cleared. When he finished cleaning the wound, he gave her a hard look and left, telling the siblings that he was going to help their comrades finish clearing the area. The buildings would have to be fixed during the next morning.

Kohaku sat down by her, watching her anxiously. "Ane-ue, are you okay?"

She gave him a weak smile. "I'm fine, Kohaku." I don't care what happens to me as long as you are safe.

"You're not fine," he argued back. "You're going to have to let that heal properly before you head out on any more missions."

"I know that." Her voice was a bit sharp this time. The boy fidgeted.

"Ane-ue?"

"Hmmm?" She had closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the tension in her body.

He took the gas mask that was beside her on the little table. "Don't tell Father I said this, but… I really don't want to become a fighter when I grow up," he admitted.

"I know."

He didn't bother to hide his surprise. "You know?"

"I could tell," she replied softly. "I'm your sister, remember?"

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Don't tell Father what I said, Ane-ue."

She didn't say anything, just lay there with her eyes closed. She really was quite tired.

"Promise not to tell," he pleaded. "He'll be so disappointed with me. I -"

"Kohaku," she finally said, her voice so soft he barely heard it, "it's okay."

"Ane-ue," he said, sounding worried at the thought of what his father would say if he had been listening to the conversation. "I don't want him to be disappointed. If you tell him that I don't want to become a true taijiya -"

"Kohaku." Her voice was not sharp, but gentle and caring, and it wasn't loud, but quiet and pleasant, yet there was something in the tone of voice she used that made him go silent. She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to face him. "How will you become a strong fighter like the rest of us if your heart is not into what you are becoming? You may become a strong fighter, the best in the province, but if you don't enjoy slaying demons, how can you ever be happy?"

The boy stared at her, as if her words struck a realization of which he should have already been aware of. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed and frowned it. After another long moment, in which their gazes connected, he lowered his head. "Because… because it's what Father - it's what Father wants."

She observed him, a concerned expression taking over her features. "Kohaku, if you keep trying to justify your dislike of fighting, you will not become the demon slayer that Father wants you to be."

But then again, this is partially my fault. When he was younger, as a big sister, my job was only to encourage him, not to help him train.

"He has always wanted me to become a great fighter like you, Ane-ue. I know I'm not as good. But -"

She sat up, taking his hand in hers and giving him a small smile. "Then tell him you don't want to train. Tell him your heart just isn't into being a fighter."

He looked back up at her.

I don't want you to be a fighter anymore, either. It's not who you are, Kohaku.

Why didn't I realize how much he disliked fighting before?

About an hour later the villagers and exterminators were able to clear up enough of the wreckage to provide a safer path to the main homes of the villagers. Some of the huts had been destroyed, their walls crumbling onto the ground, but most of them were still okay. The fires had been put out, and thankfully, Sango's home had not been damaged.

It would take some time to fix the damage, but for the most part, the village was alright. A few of the villagers had been killed, and they were buried near the back of the village, white flowers placed on them as a sign of respect. Of course, their father had informed both siblings of the extent of damage done, and at the news of the deaths, the older taijiya turned away, blinking back tears.

While Sango rested in her home, Kohaku went off to find their father and talk to him about becoming a demon slayer. The boy was nervous, but after encouragement from his sister, he set off, an uneasy look on his face. Not long after, he returned saying that Father had refused to listen to him.

Kohaku entered the building and sat down beside Sango, looking at her. "I talked to Father," he told her.

"And what did he say?" she said.

He sighed, running his fingers along the tatami mat she was resting on. "He… didn't believe me. When I told him I didn't want to fight, he said it was because I was just scared after what happened a few hours ago."

She sat up, her ankle less painful than it had been. She hadn't had a chance to change back into her casual outfit, and her battle outfit was starting to make her feel slightly more constricted, which was strange. Normally she liked to wear the outfit - it was extremely flexible. But now, the battle outfit felt like it was restricting her movements, almost suffocating her.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow morning," she said.

He shook his head. "I don't want to start up trouble between you and Father."

"Kohaku -"

"It's okay, Ane-ue. Don't worry about it," Kohaku told her. "Just - never mind. I don't want - I don't want him to -"

"Kohaku, listen to me. I don't want to watch you train, knowing that you are forcing yourself to do something you don't want to do, only because it pleases Father," she begged. "I will talk to Father tomorrow, just…"

She trailed off, wrapping her arms around her knees and placing her chin on them. A wave of exhaustion fell over her and she closed her eyes again. A small hand rested on her shoulder.

"Ane-ue, are you okay? That injury -?"

"It's fine." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. "Father bandaged it. I'm just… I'm just tired, that's all."

At that moment, the flap at the doorway opened and their father stepped in. "Kohaku, I want you to leave your sister alone. She needs to get some rest, and you should probably get some rest as well. It's been a long day." His voice sounded tired as he made his way over to them. "Sango, I want you to stay off that ankle until it has healed completely."

By this time, Kohaku had went into another room. Their father sat down next to Sango, who had lain back down. He grabbed a thin, slightly worn blanket and covered her with it.

"Before you get some sleep, I want to know something," he said, keeping his voice steady.

Sango turned her face to the wall beside her, her throat starting to feel constricted. She knew what he was going to ask her, and she didn't have an answer. At least, not a reasonable answer that he would accept, even if it was the truth.

"Why did you attack the lord, Sango?" he asked softly, noting how she tensed. "Why did you do something so foolish like that?"

She swallowed and sat up despite the fact that her body badly needed some rest to recover. Her mouth opened as if about to say something, then she closed it. A hand went on her shoulder, and she turned to meet her father's confused, yet concerned gaze.

"Tell me."

"I can't…" she whispered, clenching her fists on her lap. "I… it's…"

"You did not have a reason to do that. We came there to exterminate the demon, and we did that. But suddenly you felt the need to attack the lord. We were to impress him with our skill, and yet you -"

He stopped as her gaze focused on his. He didn't know what it was that made him stop, but there was an emotion in her eyes, so powerful and full of sadness at the same time that he went silent, frowning.

"You didn't see the thread, did you?" she asked, even knowing what his answer would be.

"What thread?"

The thread that possessed Kohaku to kill you and the rest of our comrades, she thought bitterly. But she couldn't explain; he would never understand.

He hadn't had to witness the sight of the young boy killing off everyone else, the blood splattering everywhere.

He hadn't known that Sango should have died, that she came back to life with the purpose of struggling, and failing, to get that little boy back, the one who used to call her Ane-ue.

He didn't know of her struggles against Naraku. He didn't know Naraku even existed.

But what frustrated Sango most was the fact that her father had no idea how it felt to have to stand there and watch her brother be manipulated into killing hundreds of innocents.

And that was the part that she could not explain in a reasonable way to her father to make him understand.

He just hadn't been there.

To be continued…

For those of you who are wondering, the end of the discussion is meant for you to draw your own conclusions. It gives you enough of an idea to imagine the 'argument' between Sango and her father. This chapter was originally twice as long, but I cut it in half due to events, and the fact that the chapter was just too long.

Finished typing - September 2nd, 2005

Posted - September 3rd, 2005