Disclaimer for This and All Chapters (Otherwise Known as the Blanket Disclaimer): I don't own Inuyasha. But I do borrow the characters to create works of insanity, like this.

Sango's shot was near perfect. Executed with precision, taking into account the vagrant breeze that crossed her way, and hitting the animal directly in the heart. The death was quick, and relatively painless. What more could a hunter want? Even the arrow was perfect – prime quality, and salvageable. Her hair was out of her face and her clothes clean and fresh - she hadn't dirtied herself in the slightest. She was too good a hunter to make a mess of herself in the forest. It was a beautiful shot from a beautiful bow, made by a beautiful young woman.

Yea, perhaps in her dreams.

It hadn't been a graceful shot in the least. The arrow hit the beast in the flank, causing it to cry out with pain. Maybe if the wind hadn't come just as she loosed the arrow, it would've hit the stomach, but that was asking for a miracle. She'd never been good at guessing winds. Her hair was on its third day of unwash, her left sleeve ripped from too many bowstrings flaying it. The leather of her short tunic was worn, the belt gone and replaced by a length of sturdier twine.

It took two more shots to kill the damnable thing, and she lost an arrow to it. The bow she used was old, worn, and rather too tall for her. But when you were the only woman in a job for men, in a forest that was over-hunted, with a bad leader and worse ruler, you took what you could get. And her father's old bow was what she got, though just barely. That bastard Hakudoshi had wanted it as well.

He had taken nearly everything after the fire. Whether it was a blessing or a curse that she was washing when it struck she had yet to decide. Her mother had been killed birthing her brother, who was four years her junior. Or had been, at least. Kohaku's was the first body they found. Closest to the door – as usual. She would've fancied he was reading – or watching the local girls. Her father had been in one of the back rooms – probably working on a new weapon. Why the bow wasn't destroyed, she'd never know. It should have been one of the first things to go. Neither did she know what had started the fire – no one would tell her.

Hakudoshi – the sheriff for their county – had been passing through at the time. When he came upon them, covered in soot and digging out the remains of her home, he had demanded to know what had happened. And then he had attempted to take anything of value that was left – claiming that it would help get her ahead of taxes, also claiming that they were on the rise. Female she was, but stupid she was not. Sango had very firmly taken hold of her father's bow, Kohaku's scythe (he was learning to be a yeoman), and the few coins they had and told Hakudoshi that taxes weren't due for another month, and she'd send them in with the rest of the villagers at that time.

He had persisted for awhile – insisting that she would not have to pay twice. Sango almost believed him – though a local man helped her with that misconception. No, she wouldn't pay the same tax twice. She's pay the fifteen pence now, and two whole shillings in a month when they got that high.

So she had refused, and Hakudoshi wandered off eventually – in search of new prey. Sango took up the bow, struggling to learn what she could from those who would teach her. She had learned only a few steps of self-defense, and the use of a dagger, before her Father died. Very few wanted to teach a girl – but she was her father's daughter, and he had been the best hunter in the village. Sango had learned much, especially when she took to the forests and taught herself firsthand. She wasn't the best, not by far. But she survived. She got permission to hunt the King's forests, and even when she wasn't after game, she ventured out into the lush green woods of Sherwood. Never mind the tales of hauntings that had persisted for about three years.

So it was that day that she found herself tying the legs of the deer, and starting the long drag back to the village. Upon her arrival, the animal was quickly sent off for hiding and butchering. The people of their village were nothing if not fair – all game was given to the best butcher in their village and his wife, who tanned the hides to make clothing. The meat would be divided up by number of mouths to feed. Kouga and Ayame ran the village fairly, and with the demon's nose, no meat was kept from them. Kouga had been the first to teach her how to hold a bow, in fact, and Ayame the first to bind her arms and wrists when she cut herself with backlash.

It was on that day that Sango found herself restless, and she returned to the forest to wander.

It was also that day that she began anew.

---

"Why the hell am I doing this?" Inuyasha snapped, tossing the parchment to the ground. "I don't understand it, it's of no use to me, and I don't care!"

Miroku calmly picked up the neglected paper and put it back on the table.

"If you pay attention you'll come to understand it, you'll need it when someone tries to cheat you out of a pound's worth of food, and I assure you you'll care then."

The hanyou growled, picking up the quill and trying again. He was no head for numbers, and why Miroku was trying to change that fact he didn't understand. Why didn't the monk just do it all himself! It wasn't as if he'd be able to show his face in the village again in this lifetime.

"So I give you three shillings for a 14 pence bundle of wood. How much do you give me?"

Inuyasha glowered.

"That's not your happy face."

"Really? I'm sorry," he replied, gritting his teeth into a false smile. "I was trying to figure out which would be the best way to kill you."

Miroku, feeling lucky, played along. Why not – he had known Inuyasha for three years now, he knew his limits. Right?

"Oh, really? What were the choices?"

"Dismemberment or Angry Father of Maid."

"Now that's a low blow!" the monk cried. "I wasn't aware that she was only fifteen – and that's marriageable age, anyway."

"Twenty-two pence, or one shilling and ten pence," Inuyasha grumbled, clearly not in the mood. The man started at him for a moment before he understood what his companion was talking about.

"Very good! Are you up to a challenge?"

"It's already challenge not to kick your arse from here to the Holy Lands, monk. Don't test my patience."

"I wasn't aware you had any."

It was an odd scene that Kikyou walked in on. Miroku was putting the cot between himself and Inuyasha, who was trying very hard to get at the monk's throat without upsetting his bed. The other cot was behind Miroku, stopping him from going any further.

'Kikyou never looked so good', Miroku thought to himself as she walked into the hovel. A young girl – no older than the maid that Inuyasha had alluded to earlier – stood behind her, eyes cast down. It was a brief moment before Miroku noticed how startlingly similar they looked.

Kikyou herself wore a plain, sensible dress of scarlet, her dark hair tied loosely behind her. Eyes the color of rich coffee (not something he himself had tried, but had heard much talk of. Many of the nobles adored the bitter, foreign drink, and had told him so often) stared out from under clean-cut bangs. The girl wore a fawn-colored shift, equally sensible but slightly more worn than Kikyou's clothing. Her eyes were a bluish-gray, almost like his own but darker. Her hair wasn't much shorter than Kikyou's and it was left falling free, the cut more ragged than her companion's was.

It was obvious that they were lady and servant. But why had Kikyou brought her here? This was the question at the tip of his tongue when Inuyasha turned to see what he was staring at.
Instantly his shoulders relaxed, his face softened and his entire demeanor seemed calmer. Miroku hid a smile.

"Kikyou," he greeted. The noblewoman smiled gently, dipping a tiny curtsy.

"It's nice to see you, Inuyasha," she said quietly. Her voice tripped a little over his name, almost a gentle sigh. "You, too, Miroku."

Miroku bowed.

"Well met, my lady," he said as he rose. Kikyou came further into the hut to seat herself at the table. She gestured for her maid to sit as well, and the girl did so. She didn't meet his eyes, or Inuyasha's for that matter.

"What brings you here?" The monk asked. She drew out a piece of parchment from her robes, and lay it on the table.

"Your fame grows," she told them, mild amusement evident in her voice. There, also, was concern. A rough sketch of Inuyasha was on the parchment, his scowling face a near perfect replica of the expression he wore at the moment. While the drawn Inuyasha scowled at the rest of the world, theirs scowled at the parchment that declared him an outlaw, to be brought in for a reward of 15 pounds. A farmer would usually only make three or four pounds a year.

"Why am I not depicted?" Miroku asked in a hurt voice. "Inuyasha – a mere outlaw – has a whole bill to himself, and I have nothing!"

The girl beside Kikyou hid a giggle. He smiled at her.

"Your sense humor is as marvelous as your beauty," he told her solemnly. "I would love for my child to carry both."

Inuyasha smacked him upside the head. The girl blushed a color near to her mistress's dress and looked down.

"You don't even know her name yet, monk!"

He laughed nervously when Inuyasha turned to the girl.

"Ignore him – or slap him. Your choice."

The girl apparently chose the former, turning a brighter color and keeping her face turned down. Through it all, Kikyou said nothing. When the attention was back on the paper, she spoke.

"Hakudoshi is upset that he cannot find you – or Green Haven. Not even his best hunters can find you."

"That's the point," the hanyou growled. Kikyou held up a hand, silencing him.

"He's employed a violent duo to seek you out. They are not to be trifled with."

"Keh!" was all Inuyasha had to say on the matter. Miroku sighed. Stubborn…and prideful. His doom was almost certain. The conference was interrupted by the appearance of one of the women of Green Haven.

Now, you should take a moment to acquaint yourself with the forest in which our heroes reside, and the 'Green Haven' they keep within it. A tiny settlement near and around the hovel Miroku kept so deep in the woods, populated by farmers driven from their homes. Nearly two dozen men and a handful of women lived there, along with their children. Each tiny hut was made to look like part of the woods, covered in mosses and branches. Their fires were small, and produced little smoke. All were made in pits dug in the earth and surrounded by stones.

Inuyasha and Miroku lived in the original hut, and a small clearing in front of it served as a kitchen, meeting-room, and dining hall. A large pit was dug nearby, the central rallying point. All males over thirteen knew the use of a weapon, and the women were no strangers to the use of a bow.

The community, sarcastically named 'Green Haven' by Miroku, had developed over the past three years, since Inuyasha took refuge in Miroku's hovel.

Now, the woman named Arashi stood in their doorway. Her clothes were worn, and she kept her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was tied back by a long strip of fabric, the pale strands often falling in her face otherwise. Dark gray eyes surveyed the room.

"Pardon, Ladyship, but there's a bit 'o a probl'm out front. I need one of th' men – or both, if y' can spare 'em."

Miroku stood.

"I'll take care of it," he said to Inuyasha, and bowed to Kikyou before he left. The woman looked at Inuyasha mildly when Miroku's back was turned, and he understood. She was apart here, no matter how well the inhabitants treated her. Never would they ask her to clean the privy, or to skin a rabbit. Not even tiny, mundane tasks such as mending would be asked of her. She was a lady, after all, not just any old woman.

Stepping outside, Miroku found himself face to face with quite a problem.

Though she was a mess, she was still beautiful. Straggly brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail, awkward-looking wisps falling out. Dark eyes glared defiantly at him from a tanned face, and rosebud lips curved into a frown. She wore a short, dirty tunic that was ragged and threadbare in places, and her hose was in no better shape. A dagger sat aside the cliff, presumably hers. Though she was ragged around the edges, a regular 'tatterdemalion' (the word he used when describing their refugees) there was a pride to her.

The girl – a young woman, really, though age was hard to tell beneath the dirt – knelt awkwardly on the ground, her elbows held by two of their men. What was that fire in her? She looked neither scared nor worried – if he hadn't known better, he would have thought she had intended to kneel on the ground, captive in a place she was unfamiliar with.

"What is your name?" he asked, motioning for them to release her. She sat, cross-legged on the ground, fiddling with the twine she used as a belt. Her eyes never left his, the defiant anger obvious.

"Rin," she snapped. Miroku laughed and sat on his haunches in front of her.

"It's odd that you would have the same name as the Princess," he said. "I am a man, my lady, but I'm not a fool."

She did not speak after that. Gently goading her, he said:

"Come now – there must be a pretty name to match your pretty face."

This earned him a snort of derisive laughter. What the hell was this guy up to? He was full of foolish words. She didn't know where she was – or what was going on. Restlessness drove her into the woods after her hunt, deeper than she'd ever ventured before. She'd never gotten lost before.

But when someone hits the back of your head with what feels like the butt of a dagger, and blindfolds you – you don't get much choice. Soon after she awoke, she found herself kneeling here, her weapon gone. Brilliant. Though now she knew there were no ghosts in the forest – only bandits.

But…if he was a bandit, why did he look like a priest?

Changing tactics, Miroku picked up the dagger and held it up.

"Is this yours?" he asked.

"Well, it isn't hers," Sango snapped, nodding her head at the woman who stood near the door to some hut. Miroku turned to see the maid that had come with Kikyou.

"You'd best go inside, Miss…"

"Kagome," she said. "I thought it best to leave my lady and Inuyasha in peace for awhile."
The monk nodded. So they had moved on from business talk, had they? Well, at least Inuyasha's mood would improve. It was always like this. Kikyou visited once every fortnight or so. He was cranky when she came less often than that, positively cheerful for days after she left, and doe-eyed when she was there. Not that he'd admit to a bit of it.

"Perhaps Arashi would like some help with supper then, Miss Kagome."

The girl nodded, and was led away by Arashi, who was already explaining the different uses for potato they'd found (not the least of which were, by the by, four different dinners, two breakfasts and several cold midday meals).

"Why are you here?" he asked his captive. She hadn't tried to run, which surprised him. He was wondering about the pair in charge of capturing Inuyasha. Would she be one of them?

"I'd ask you the same, but all you seem to have are questions," she replied crisply. It was getting late, if she didn't get back soon, she wouldn't be in time to order a new tunic from Ayame. It was an odd thing to worry about, when her life was in the hands of strangers, but one thing at a time…

"You wandered a little too close to our home, my lady. We are nothing if not vigilant."

"Violent, you mean?"

Not pressing that issue – he'd find out soon enough what she meant – he tried again for a name. Who was this woman? It was infuriating, not knowing.

"I feel terrible, my lady, not knowing your name."

"I feel terrible being here," she countered.

Heavens above – she was difficult! She had wit – an admirable (if not dangerous) trait in a woman. Though right now, it did him little good.

"Then I will make you a deal, my lady."

She cocked her head, listening. 'He's handsome,' she thought suddenly. 'Dark hair, dark eyes, and a charming grin. He's a lover, for certain. His vows are probably broken on a nightly basis.'

Wondering where these thoughts appeared from, she almost missed his words.

"I'll fight you – staffs, no swords. If you beat me, you may leave. If I win, then you must tell me your name, and have a taste of Arashi's cooking."

She hesitated a moment, before nodding.

"I suppose I could do that," she agreed. He smiled and tossed her a staff from beside the main firepit. He would fight with his own staff.

---

sigh This piece isn't doing half as well as I'd wanted it to. But that's what I get for posting it in the middle of Beauty and the Beast and on the cusp of winter holidays. MAJOR kudos goes out to Kat, who made me write this whole thing by myself with no BETA-help. It was scary!

Now, I don't know how many of you are familiar with the story of Robin Hood (the original, not the Disney one). Remember it? Good. Throw it out the window. That's what I'm doing. Little details like 'It was Robin Hood who fought Little John, not Friar Tuck' etc. and 'Guy Gisbourne was a GUY' are being pointedly ignored in this story.

Well, see you all at chapter 3!

BETA Notes: I don't get it. She tells me to "BETA" her work, never mind the fact that its perfect (well, close enough) and what do I end up doing? Making a grand total of four comments (which were deleted, as per our agreement) and laughing my ass off at Miroku's...erm...how shall I put it? Stupidity? Lack of morals? Absolute lack of fear of Inu-yasha or Sango? Yeah, something like that.