Sango was a somber presence beside him as Miroku finished his prayers for the dead. The graves were nothing special and no monument would mark this place, but at least now Sango's father and the other slain warriors of her village were no longer abandoned in the ruins of a cursed castle. They had at last been afforded some measure of the dignity they deserved.
It was easy to forget, sometimes, what had happened to Sango and her family. He had not witnessed it himself. He had only heard what Sango was willing to tell, and she seldom spoke of it in any detail. She did not cry about it, so far as he could tell, though he had observed that her sleep was often troubled. He rather hoped she did not remember most of it, considering what he had seen.
What he knew he must not forget was this: Naraku was responsible for this atrocity.
His enemy must be stopped, and not just because he intended to survive the kazaana's curse. Left to his own devices, Miroku knew, Naraku would merely go on to greater and greater acts of cruelty and evil, until no one could stop him at all. That monster could not be allowed to continue wiping out entire villages, or to hurt another family of innocents the way he had Sango's.
Miroku held on to that anger. He would need it later. His journey might have started as a selfish attempt at self-preservation, but there was more at stake in this struggle than merely his own life. He had grown up with the knowledge that Naraku had taken everything from him—his mother, his father, any chance at a normal childhood or life. Now, watching from afar as the bastard systematically did the same thing to Sango… how could he not be moved?
He only wished there was more he could do to bring her comfort.
Inuyasha and Kagome were the first to slip away, taking Shippou and Hachi with them. Just like Miroku, they could tell that Sango needed time and space right now. And there were other responsibilities that would need to be tended, like finding a place to camp for the night and preparing the evening meal. These were small things, yes, but taking care of them would help ease the burden on Sango.
"Thank you, Houshi-sama," Sango said when they were alone, her voice raw with grief. "You don't have to stay."
He didn't, but he stayed anyway.