The entire group was subdued as they headed away from what was left of the town. Inuyasha, in particular, looked forlorn even as he led the way. He had tried to put a brave face on it, but it was clear that he was still struggling from his injuries, and hearing the survivors call him a monster had been a major blow to his ego. Even his ears were drooping, rather than pricked up attentively like they usually were.
Sango fell in beside Miroku at the back of the group, which seemed to be swiftly becoming her normal place. She wondered how the monk was doing; he hadn't said a word about it one way or the other. He seemed at least to be doing better than Inuyasha, at least as far as Sango could tell, but that wasn't saying much.
They walked for a long time with no particular goal other than 'away from that village'. When the sun began to sink behind the trees, Inuyasha finally chose a place to camp for the night. There was a little clearing in the trees between the road and the river, which ought to make for a fairly comfortable campsite. It was the best they were likely to find before full dark, at least.
While Sango and the others were occupied setting up camp, Inuyasha slunk away. Sango had a feeling he was heading for the river, looking for solitude and some time to think—which only proved how out of sorts he was, and how much the day's events had affected him. Their hanyou friend wasn't overly given to thoughtful contemplation. He was more often, and most comfortably, a man of action.
She watched the place where he had vanished among the trees for a moment before turning back to the work of preparing the group's evening meal. Whatever he was thinking about out there, she hoped he would find some solace. And she soon had some reason to think that might really come to pass.
Not long after Inuyasha disappeared, Kagome slipped out of camp and headed down the path toward the river, following the same trail the hanyou had taken just a few minutes ago. Sango watched her go with something like trepidation lodged in her heart. If anyone could help Inuyasha now, it was Kagome.
But she wasn't sure anyone really could help Inuyasha right now. He had lost control of himself, of his youkai blood, and now he had seen the result. From now on, he would always remember what could happen if he lost control again. There was no going back. And he would have to figure out how to deal with that.
If he could.
Sango hoped he could. Yet she couldn't shake the cold claws of doubt that had lodged in her heart. How could he possibly cope with having committed such violence?
How could the rest of them, knowing they might become his victims the next time he lost control? She hated to think such things about Inuyasha, who had been such a steadfast companion all this time, but her training demanded it. She needed to assess the situation, to have a plan, even if it ended up being unnecessary. She couldn't avoid considering it, no matter how much she might want to.
Belatedly she realized that the monk was watching her, quietly intense in the fading light. He had said nothing so far about the harrowing situation that had led to Inuyasha transforming into a full youkai in the first place. She could venture guesses about some of it, but had no idea about the rest.
Well, with the food cooking and their friends off to make their own peace with the day's events, Sango supposed she had no choice but to dive in. "Houshi-sama, are you okay?"
He smiled faintly. It looked forced. "I used a lot of energy maintaining a barrier, trying to keep Inuyasha safe from the youkai's poison," he told her. "That's all."
Poison… they had faced so much of that, lately. Unfortunately her knowledge of remedies was limited and unlikely to be of much help. Yet again she was stymied, unable to truly help her friends. Even if she had been there the whole time, would she have been able to do anything to help?
Shippou came to the rescue, filling the silence with the question Sango should have thought to ask: "But if Inuyasha transformed into a full youkai, wasn't it much worse than that?"
"Inuyasha was injured before we became trapped in the poison cocoon," the monk explained. "The poison exacerbated his injuries, despite my best efforts to protect him. Since he had also lost the Tessaiga and knew innocent villagers were in danger…"
He did not need to continue; they could imagine what had followed, and had seen the rest. They were all of them lucky to be alive.
Since Miroku didn't seem to want to talk about his own experiences, Sango decided it might be safer to focus on Inuyasha for now. "Do you think Inuyasha will be okay?"
While he thought about it, Sango busied herself with the food. At least it was something to do. Something she could do.
Finally: "Even as a full youkai, Inuyasha did not harm us. He also did not harm any of the innocent villagers," Miroku said. "Yes, he killed humans, but they were humans who had thrown their lot in with that monster of a youkai."
To Inuyasha, Sango knew these words would sound damning. Yet Miroku said them with compassion in his voice. He went on, "Those villagers were not wrong to be afraid of him, in that moment. They did not know him—I'm not sure he knew himself. But even in that moment when he did not know himself, he did not attack innocents."
"Meaning what?" Shippou asked. "That he's not as mindless as a youkai as Myouga and Toutousai said?"
"Something like that," Miroku agreed. "If he can come around to understanding that, I think Inuyasha will be okay."
"Isn't that hoping for a lot?"
"Perhaps. But I believe Kagome will help him understand," he said, echoing Sango's unspoken hopes. Hearing him give voice to the same idea made her feel more genuinely hopeful and less like she was simply being blindly optimistic. It was a small thing, this reassurance, but right now it was exactly what she needed. She had not realized just how tense she was until that tension began to fade.
By the time dinner was ready, she felt as if she were standing on solid ground again. Even in the face of everything else, it was nice to share a meal with friends. Yet as the sky grew ever darker with no sign of Inuyasha and Kagome, the worry began to creep back in.
Had something happened to them out there? Were they okay?
She had always felt that those two would always be okay, as long as they had each other. But now she had to second-guess that. And she didn't like it one bit.
After Shippou and Kirara had curled up together to go to sleep, the monk came over and sat beside her. She wasn't sure what to expect—was he up to something? But he just sighed and said, "You may as well get some rest. I'll wait for Inuyasha and Kagome."
But she shook her head. Sleep was a daunting prospect right now. What would she see, if she closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream? Would she see her friend's claws reaching to rend her apart? Her dreams had been dark and awful since that fateful day… it would only be worse, now. Better to stay up with the monk and wait, than to face that darkness.
"Sango," Miroku said softly, his voice a beacon drawing her back to the world of firelight and friends.
"I should have gone with you," she blurted out.
"That would only have put you in harm's way," he told her. His tone was hard to interpret, a potent mix of anger, fear, and resignation. He'd kept quiet today, but it was increasingly clear he did not like what had happened any more than Inuyasha did. "That youkai and its men… they were targeting the women, Sango. They had already killed most of the men by the time we got there."
Sango did not respond. Did he think that was somehow worse than what Inuyasha might have unleashed upon them? Did he think she had never been threatened with such behavior before, and that she had no means of defending herself? She knew he meant well, that this meant he cared enough to want her to be safe, but somehow his words only saddened her.
How could she help him and Inuyasha if the only role they saw for her in a fight was babysitter?
She was still trying to find an answer when Inuyasha and Kagome finally returned to camp. They both looked exhausted, emotionally drained from all that had happened; Sango could only hope that they would find some measure of peace in the days to come.
With everyone back together, she did the only thing left to do: she prepared for bed, and hoped not to dream.