Sango awoke to midmorning sunlight and an intense desire for a bath. Her mouth felt thick and dry and pain numbed by Kagome's medicines last night now throbbed through each of her injuries, but what she wanted most of all was to be clean. She groaned and rolled into her side, and immediately regretted it.
She lay still while pain lanced through her injured shoulder, vaguely aware that Shippou had raced out of the hut, calling for Miroku.
She hadn't even realized the monk was gone, and wondered where he had wandered off to.
By the time he came into the hut, she had managed to sit up and pull her kosode more or less into place. He crouched beside her, wisely saying only, "Sango."
No doubt they were worried because she had tried to slip away from them back at the castle. They had nothing to worry about. Now that she was truly feeling her injuries, she would be lucky to make it to her feet on her own.
She realized that he had brought one of Kagome's strange bottles, and that it was filled with water. Taking it, she drank eagerly and almost immediately felt better. "Thank you," she murmured, disliking the strained sound of her voice.
He smiled softly. For reasons she couldn't explain, it annoyed her that he could look so carefree and cheerful after everything that happened yesterday. Unfortunately, she needed his help even if he was irritating her right now. "Where did you get the water?" she asked.
"There's a stream not far from here," he explained. "I hope you don't mind that I left Shippou here to watch over you while I brought some back. It seemed safe enough."
He was saying all the right things, but none of it improved her mood. "Take me there."
He looked surprised. "Sango, you should rest."
She hated the way her shoulders and arms shook. "I want to be clean," she told him, bracing for an inappropriate remark from the monk.
The surprised, almost stern expression on his face softened. "Shippou, see if you can find a good spot. I'll help Sango."
Always happy to be useful, Shippou nodded. "Right!" he said, and scrambled out the door.
When he was out of the way, Miroku set the water bottle aside and scooped Kirara up gently with one hand, cradling her against his side. "Can't leave you here, can we?" he murmured. When Kirara was secure, he stepped closer to hook his free arm around Sango's waist. With her arm over his shoulders, he was able to help her climb to her feet without much trouble.
It wasn't until they had hobbled out into the sunshine and started heading around behind the hut that Sango realized he'd spared her the embarrassment of being carried by choosing to bring Kirara with them. She wondered if it had been deliberate, and decided that it must have been. But why? He had the perfect opportunity now to get away with whatever he wanted. She was obviously healing now, and couldn't have fought him even if she wanted to. And he still wasn't taking advantage.
As they came upon the stream and turned to follow Shippou's trail along it, she remembered how Miroku had been back at her village when they first met, how he had treated her injuries and helped Inuyasha and Kagome bury the villagers and do what they could to clean up the damage. All this he had done without making any overtures toward her whatsoever. And now, as he helped her make the short trip to the stream without making a single inappropriate gesture, she wondered why he couldn't be like that all the time. If he could, she might actually like him, instead of finding his behavior so frustrating and inconsistent.
Shippou came bounding over a small rise to announce that, "I found the perfect spot! You can't see it from the road, and the water's a little deeper there, Sango."
She managed a smile even though there wasn't a single part of her that didn't hurt right now. "Thank you, Shippou," she said, and realized with no little horror that the monk might well be behaving himself now to lull her into a false sense of security. After all, she could barely stand. And who better to help her bathe than the one who had gotten her this far?
She glanced over at him, suddenly skeptical, but he seemed entirely serene. She couldn't tell at all what he might be thinking or planning.
All she could do was lean on him for support as they followed Shippou to the spot he had picked out. It was indeed a better spot than any other part of the stream they had passed. A curve in the stream and a copse of trees hid it from view of the road, and the water here looked much deeper than the mere trickle they had followed up until now.
Miroku helped her down to the water's edge and stopped. "Do you think you can help her from here?" he asked Shippou, earning an enthusiastic nod – and a suspicious look – in response.
"Don't you dare even try to peek!" Shippou scolded.
The monk chuckled. "Kirara and I will wait on the other side of the trees," he assured them. "We have to stay alert in case there is any trouble." When he realized that both Shippou and Sango were aware of what he was not saying, he added, "And I won't peek."
Sango knew that she would have to accept this, and was surprised to find that she could stay on her feet without Miroku's help. She felt off-balance and unstable, but she could do it. Whether she could stay upright once she got into the water and the uncertain footing of the streambed remained to be seen.
When Miroku had taken Kirara and passed out of sight beyond the trees, Sango took a few tentative steps forward. Her legs could indeed carry her weight and she wasn't so pained and exhausted that she toppled over without support. All of this was, she supposed, good progress. Once she had divested herself of her clothing and stepped into the water, none of that mattered.
The water was clear and blessedly cool around her ankles and, as she stepped further into the small pool, all the way up to her knees. She had no soap to wash with and no towel to dry with, but none of that mattered. The water was clean and by itself could wash away the worst of the grime and dried blood.
Shippou left her to it, reclining on the shore and glancing over occasionally to make sure she wasn't going to fall or hurt herself. She was grateful for the quiet, unobtrusive companionship. In a way, he reminded her of Kirara just now. She knew he was there, and was happy to know someone was there to help should she need it, but he was content to just let her be until she did need his help.
That way, she could focus on the task at hand instead of trying to listen to whatever he might say. Any other time she would have been happy to chat with him, but today her various injuries meant that washing took more of her concentration than it ordinarily did. It hardly seemed like she could do anything without feeling a twinge in one arm or the other. Her wounds stung when she washed them, but at least they felt somewhat better afterward.
The worst part was bending down to scoop up water to rinse with. Each time she worried that she might lose her balance and fall face first into the water, but for the most part she managed to keep her footing and only wobble a little. After she was more or less clean and all that remained was her hair, she gave up on this tactic and dropped to her knees in the water with a chagrined glance at Shippou. "You'll have to help me up," she told him, and then leaned forward to dunk as much of her head as possible into the water.
It took several more dunks and a lot of scrubbing before she finally felt like she had washed all of the remaining miasma from her hair. Feeling a little embarrassed at her inability to get back up on her own, but much better for finally being clean, she let Shippou help her up and onto the shore. When she had dried enough, he helped her get her clothes back on, too, before calling for Miroku.
The monk appeared several minutes later, Kirara still cradled comfortably against him. They headed back to the hut together the same way they had come, though Sango was pleased to notice that she was already moving more easily than she had earlier. By the time they made it back to the hut, she was actually feeling hungry. And maybe a little less worried that Inuyasha and Kagome weren't coming back.
It still felt as if dark clouds loomed all around her in spite of the day's sunshine, with her brother's fate and Naraku's still unknown, with Kirara still fighting for her life and the memory of her own foolish betrayal still fresh in Sango's mind, but the path ahead seemed a little brighter than it had before.