The next few weeks were hard on Sango. She didn't speak, except when asked to help (which wasn't often). Her work was thorough, and well done, despite her disquieted silence. She ate sparingly at mealtimes, leaving most of what she ate to the children of Green Haven. If she slept more than a few hours at a time, it didn't show, and when she did sleep, it was only to find herself immersed in nightmares, where the flesh melted from the bones of those she loved, and she found herself talking to their skeletons.
It was after one such nightmare that Sango found herself wandering around the woods of Green Haven, taking solace in the silence and the dark. Flashes of moonlight filtered through the trees, and she looked for the clearing she wished to lay in. It wasn't large, maybe ten paces across at most. But if she lay on her back, and the night was clear, she could see the stars and remember the tales that her father had woven for her as a little girl.
Stories of brave heroes immortalized in the stars, little lessons on the making and use of weapons – those where what she had from her father. Explanations of why yew was better than oak for a longbow, little tricks of knife-work to help her escape if needed.
She had known her life back then, what was expected of her and what was planned. Her minimal cooking and cleaning skills had gotten them through, and Ayame would teach her more as she needed it. She would grow, marry, have children, and die. Nothing spectacular or exciting.
Then her father and Kohaku had died.
Things changed, more than a little. She no longer cooked and cleaned for three, but one. Ayame and Kouga had asked her to move in with them, but she had declined. She didn't want to leave the house she had grown up in. Even if the memories were painful…they were her memories.
So she learned how to defend herself a bit better, how to handle her taxes. When the blacksmith's son asked for her in marriage, she declined. No one bothered her over it. She hunted, cleaned when it was necessary, and cooked well enough to survive winter. She would hunt, grow old, and die. Nothing spectacular or exciting.
She sighed. What would happen now? There was nothing left that she knew. Nothing. All she could do now was wait for death – and she was not a patient person. The stars glittered back at her sympathetically, until a dark figure blotted her vision.
Sango was up in a flash, fumbling for her dagger. A soft laugh met her ears, and she stopped, peering at the tall, slim figure in front of her.
"Lady Kikyou?" she asked quietly. The figure nodded, and stepped back into the clearing. Another small figure flittered past them in the darkness, and Sango figured it as Kagome.
"May I speak with you?" Kikyou asked gently. Sango nodded, dropping an awkward curtsy. Kikyou waved it off and sat in the grass.
"I do not want to speak to you as nobility," she said. The hunter nodded, and sat down beside the older woman. Kikyou looked up at the stars.
"I was to be married, once."
Sango gave a start, wondering where this was coming from – and where it would go. The lady went on, ignoring Sango's surprise.
"When I was no more than perhaps fifteen, I was to marry a childhood friend. The Queen arranged it all – my mother-in-law to be wished for my lands. I didn't want to marry him, this boy I had once slid down banisters with. He had grown into a poor man, violent and loose with his women, and worse so with his money. So I made a decision, and Kagome took me to an old woman from her village. Kaede. She gave me something I could use to kill myself quickly, without a trace. But I never got the chance to use it. The day before we were to be married, he was killed. It was an accident – as far as I know, and I know very little. But that's beside the point. He was buried, and I went on as an unmarried vassal. Rather unheard of, but due to the assumed trauma of losing my fiancé, I was allowed to remain as I was.
"I spent most of the day he died in my room, in solitude. Planning when and how to use the powder Kaede gave me. There was a cold inside my heart when I thought of killing myself, and I couldn't shake it. A thousand reminders of what waited for me in life couldn't move the chill from its throne. But it wasn't until after I was given the news that I understood. The chill was beyond fear. It was terror, and shame."
"Shame?" Sango asked, a little confused. Kikyou nodded.
"For you see…by choosing to take the powder, I was damning myself not only to hell, but as a coward."
She stood then, leaving the hunter to stare up at her. She moved away, and had almost reached the edge of the forest when she stopped.
"The courage it requires to take your own life is momentary. The courage needed to live is far greater. As a woman who has the freedom to choose either path, which do you have?"
And with that, she was gone; slipping away into the forest before Sango could say anything. It was almost another hour before she herself stood, and began down the path to Green Haven, in the new light of dawn that was coming to them.
"Damn them all to hell!" a voice cried as Miroku walked past the hut that he and Inuyasha shared. He blinked, and stuck his head in. It was mostly dark, despite the sun shining down on them outside. A single ray of morning light filtered in from the half-formed window. The hanyou was leaning on the table, fists clenched and chair on the floor – apparently he had stood rather quickly. Kikyou sat across from him at the table, looking calmly up at him, waiting for his temper to run it's erratic course. Kagome sat next to her, looking rather surprised and a little nervous.
"He's all bark, my dear Kagome," Miroku told her as he entered the hut fully. She nodded a little uncertainly, but was willing to leave things as they were for now. He looked at Kikyou, or rather, where he thought she was (his eyes were adjusting to the lack of light slowly), awaiting an explanation.
"We were wrong about the trio," she told him matter-of-factly. Her face betrayed nothing as she spoke, as if their lives – and the lives of those in Green Haven – meant nothing. This time, it was the friar who swore. Kagome's ears turned pink from her blush. He pulled up a chair and snatched the papers off the table. This complicated things. After a moment, he sighed.
"So she wasn't the third member."
"No," Inuyasha growled as he, too, sat down, his temper ebbing for the moment. "She was independent. There's more money on us now."
He tossed a couple of wanted posters at his companion, who scanned them with an increasingly troubled look on his face. 50 pounds – thrice what had been offered before, and then some. Hakudoshi was getting desperate, but…
"What I want to know is –"
Loud noises from outside stopped the conversation. It sounded almost like a battle, the shouts and cries of the residents of Green Haven, and the loud noises of something – or someone as unknown as the identity of the final member of Hakudoshi's trio. Miroku and Inuyasha both rose at once, and rushed out of the hut.
The oddest of sights greeted them. The others were, indeed, rushing to arms, but it was what they fought against that caused such commotion. Miroku didn't notice at first – being too concerned with the fact that not only once, but twice in the past fortnight had an outsider blundered into their camp.
But looking at the great pink…bubble, swollen and furious, with the voice of a young child – he wasn't so sure that he should worry. Ropes were thrown over the monstrosity, and his thoughts turned to visibility.
"Keep it out of sight, for God's sake!" Inuyasha yelled, his mind moving to the same thing as Miroku's. The ropes tugged harder, and the thing wriggled in its spidery net.
"Let go!" it hollered, the ridiculous voice indignant and frustrated. A great gust of wind nearly knocked Miroku over, and he heard the sounds of coughing as a smoke, equally lurid in it's pink color, filled the clearing. He himself gave a hacking cough as the tendrils filled his lungs and greedily snatched away his breath. When the smoke cleared, the creature was gone. Cries of shock and curiosity filled the air in the absence of both the smoke and the being. Miroku heard Inuyasha swear violently.
"What has happened?" Kikyou asked, striding out of the hut with Kagome trailing behind her.
"Damned if I know," Inuyasha sighed. He grabbed the arm of the nearest man.
"What's going on, here?" he demanded.
"I-I don't know!" he stammered. "It just…it just appeared out of n-nowhere."
"A giant talking bubble just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of our camp, and then magically disappeared again," The hanyou drawled sarcastically. When the man nodded ardently, he released his captive – who promptly ran off to help begin the repairs.
Meanwhile, Sango was returning from the lake. After speaking with Kikyou, the cool water had been a crisp awakening, and she felt almost human once again. Occupied with tying her hair up and out of her face, she was not prepared for something to come tearing out of the bushes and knock her over.
She gave a cry of shock as she hit the ground, by chance her hand slipped and grabbed a soft pile of moss. Dazed, the wind knocked out of her, she barely noticed that the moss was moving beneath her hand until sharp little teeth cut into her thumb, piercing the skin and causing blood to well up from the wound.
While she did release that-which-was-certainly-not-moss, she twisted around to grab it again with her other hand and pull it up in front of her face.
"Letmegoletmegoletmego…" it was wailing, still struggling in her grip. Sango did not release the tail, but stood and nursed her wounded hand. Drat. She'd have to hope that Miroku had more bandages. Considering the numbers that he and Inuyasha had on their hands, well, she wasn't so sure. He still hadn't told her where the splinters and bruises came from, but she knew. He and Inuyasha had gone and buried the…she'd have to thank him.
"Who are you?" she asked softly, her voice firm. It continued wailing, giving no sign of even having heard her. With a resigned sigh, she held it a good few feet away from her and walked towards camp. She could get some answers there, since that was the direction he had run from.
"Whose is he?" she asked loudly when she entered the field. A hush fell over the clearing, and everyone stared at the woman they though they'd never again see alive. Not only was she whole and apparently well, but she was also holding…something…by it's tail.
Miroku, who had rolled up his sleeves to lend a hand, looked up as well. Despite the fact that she was wet, and that she held an odd little bundle of energy in one hand, he stood up and strode over to her. Without hesitating a moment he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.
Sango flushed from her head to her toes. Or perhaps the flaming warmth was just the fact that Miroku had her wrapped in his arms with no intention of letting her go anytime soon. She would rather not have to think about it. That wasn't too difficult, breathing in the scent of forest and church that surrounded him. It was easy not to think, and she was tempted to close her eyes and enjoy it. But after a moment that was both too long and horribly short, she coughed awkwardly.
"Friar…Can you let go?"
Then she felt something. It wasn't a new sensation, but it had been awhile since it had caught her – which was a bad choice of words. The creepling feel of a hand sliding over her bottom was most definitely present. Giving a tiny, choked cry of outrage, Sango slapped him.
"Pervert!" she huffed, and marched towards the little hut that she now shared with Umeko. The young woman had been more than happy to open her home to Sango, and she appreciated it greatly (though showing that appreciation had been hard for her so far). Thankfully, their hut was still standing, so she had no problem entering the hut and tying the arms of the wriggling little brat. Except when it came to tying him.
When she approached the nameless pest with a length of rope, a cloud of dust filled the air and she choked. When the smoke cleared (and it took awhile) the child was gone. In his place was a statue that looked almost comical. She picked it up, giving a grunt at its weight, and walked back outside to find Miroku. Pervert though he was, if this kid had left this pain-in-the-arse behind, then hopefully they could find him.
When she did find him, he looked at the statue with curious confusion.
"I don't entirely understand myself…tell me what happened?"
She began to explain, but got only as far as to speak about the cloud before he interrupted, taking the statue form it and giving it a sound thump on the top.
"That was no child," he said. "Or rather, no human child. Probably a fox demon. We'll just have to find him."
Sango stared blankly at him.
"Listen," he said mildly. At first, they could hear nothing – save for the sounds of the camp. Crackling of the fire, chatter and footsteps, and…huffing? A clatter followed, and it sounded much like whoever was clanking around was having a hard time.
Inuyasha stepped forward and grabbed a dented saucepan, flipping it so that the fox demon underneath it landed neatly inside. The kit cried out in surprise and pain when the half demon smacked him upside the head.
"Is this what you were looking for?" he asked gruffly, extending both the saucepan and it's occupant. Sango held in a little laugh and nodded.
The Friar gathered the bundle of energy up, and he, Sango, and Inuyasha re-entered Umeko's hut. This time, when they bound the child, he didn't escape.
"Do you have a name?" Miroku asked pleasantly. The fox cub made a face at him.
"Let me go!"
"Not a chance!" Inuyasha snarled, hitting him again. Sango hit him back, and when Inuyasha asked 'what the hell that was for', she replied sternly:
"Violence isn't the solution here."
Seeing that his companion was about to respond in a way that would most certainly spark troublesome events, Miroku stepped between them, resting a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Play nice, you two."
His hand slid from Sango's shoulder to her bottom, and she gave a cry, turning to crack him across the cheek. The Friar laughed sheepishly, though the noise was drowned out by the laughter of a child.
All three of them turned to see their captive chortling merrily at them.
"You're crazy!" he told them. Miroku smiled.
"Is that so?"
"Yea."
Inuyasha growled again, earning him a warning look from both Sango and Miroku.
"My name's Shippo!" the cub chirped. Sango looked at him.
"It's nice to meet you," she said. Shippo beamed at her, his smile showing sharp teeth.
"Oh!" the woman gasped, remembering. "Friar, would you happen to have any bandages left on hand?"
"New weaves in the cupboard!" Umeko called from outside. Sango called out her thanks, and after digging the fresh roll of bandages from the cupboard, began struggling to wrap her hand. It was difficult.
Two large, warm hands covered hers and she looked up at the smiling Miroku. She smiled back, a little unsettled by how much she liked the feel of his rough, chapped hands helping her bandage the wound. When he was done, he kept his grip on her hands a little longer, before releasing them.
"Thank you," she said quietly. He shrugged.
"It's no trouble."
They looked at each other for a moment, and Sango found herself wondering just why she had been so upset over the prospect of kissing him. It didn't seem so bad, now.
The two of them were shaken from their private moment by the loud sound of Shippo's wailing. They looked over to see Inuyasha glaring at the kit; arms folded in his "I'm angry" pose. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.
Miroku stood, glancing back at Sango quickly, before walking over to try and smooth everything out. She sat quiet for a moment, and then got up to help.
Yea. Blame PotC for that one little bit of fluff – you know what I'm talking about. I wanted to fill that space up with something cute, and I had just finished watching t3h spiffieness.
Also, I touched on some heavy issues this chapter. Grief and suicide, namely. I'm not 100 sure what I want to say in explanation of that, except to point out that the portrayal I have is rather skewed in this chapter (that'll iron itself out in the next few chapters, by the way). One little talk from someone isn't going to make it all better, when you're dealing with things like this. Grief and depression are serious things. If someone is considering suicide, or seems really depressed, you need to talk to them. Get them help – even if they don't want it. Do whatever you have to do to keep them alive. It's better that they're alive and angry with you than dead and emotionless. They'll forgive you, probably even thank you later.
I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank my sister (who probably won't ever read this ;) for the late-night plot bunny hunt. Rose – you rock. Without you, this chapter probably wouldn't exist.
Until next time!