With Inuyasha off seeking Toutousai's advice, Sango and the others at least had some time to rest and catch their breath. There was no point in worrying about it; no matter how uneasy Sango felt about all this, she couldn't do anything to help Inuyasha right now anyway. Nothing, that is, except making sure she was ready for the next fight. And, after the mess they had just got out of, she was determined to be ready.

She could admit to herself that she felt a little discouraged, in spite of her determination. No matter how much she prepared, she was still only one slayer, alone. The slayers' strength had always been in their collective knowledge, and in their ability to cooperate and work together toward a goal. Strength was not found in the prowess of any individual slayer. A slayer alone might be enough to tackle one relatively weak youkai, like a snake or a centipede.

Against the type of enemies Sango and her friends now faced… she felt a little hopeless sometimes. This was all so far beyond everything she knew and everything she had been trained for that she felt lucky to still be alive. If not for the strength and courage of her friends, she might easily have been otherwise.

And so with no battles to fight or shards to acquire, for the moment at least, she had automatically begun sifting through possibilities, looking for ways she might better prepare for next time. If something like this happened again—and she had a bad feeling that it would—she wanted to be ready to do more than just stare in shocked horror.

Every battle they went into seemed to be a little bit worse than the ones that had come before… or a lot worse. And Naraku seemed bent on escalating things until he could win, no matter what. Sango had no way of knowing where things might end. Did they really have any hope of survival, or were they merely fighting against the inevitable?

Whatever came of Inuyasha's visit to Toutousai, she hoped it would help the path forward become clear. Because one thing alone was clear to her: whenever they next encountered Naraku, he would have devised some trap for them that was even worse than before. And if Inuyasha couldn't fight to his fullest, she hated to think of what might happen to him, and the rest of them.

To Kagome, who always tried to be kind to her. To Miroku, whose compassion shone through in spite of his sometimes bad behavior. To Shippou, the sweet child who only wanted his friends to be safe and happy. And to Kirara, the most steadfast and beloved of her companions.

She sighed and, coming out of her reverie, caught Miroku watching her. For a flustered moment, she wondered what might have drawn his attention, but then she realized that he was probably thinking along the same lines as she was. He was just worried and lost in thought, he wasn't… looking at her specifically, right?

And even if he was, why was that a big deal? It wasn't like he was going to say or do something stupid, given the circumstances. And it certainly wasn't like she wanted him to do something stupid.

Or maybe she did, just a little. If only to give her something tangible to be angry about, and angry at.

And, if she were perfectly honest, to remind her that though he might be thoughtful and compassionate and entirely too attractive for his own good, this monk was not someone she ought to get too close to. Because she had come to rely on him far more than perhaps she should, given his tendencies. And she wasn't nearly as worried about it as she should be.

If anything, it was a relief. Ever since Naraku killed her family and destroyed her home, she had needed someone to rely on. And somehow he had become that person, in spite of everything.

This could easily become a dangerous situation; even ignoring his bad habits, Miroku was a cursed man, doomed to die young unless Naraku could be defeated. She had lost everyone else already and it had nearly killed her. Getting attached to anyone was dangerous, with enemies like that, but Miroku in particular…

Still, she couldn't help feeling drawn to him. He'd shared so many of her experiences and understood her pain in a way the others never really could. And when he wasn't making dumb comments, trying to hook up with random women, or putting his hands where they weren't invited, he really could be quite alluring. As much as she didn't want to admit it—and she would never admit it to his face, that much was sure—if he could set aside the bad behavior, she would have been very tempted to get to know him a lot better.

For now, however, she would settle for being his friend and companion, looking out for him on the field of battle and helping patch him up after a fight. Even if he did insist on looking at her like that.

Her face was getting hot—was she blushing?!—so she forcibly directed her attention back to the task at hand.

Only she couldn't quite remember what that was.

It took much longer than she would have liked to remember just what she was supposed to be doing right now. At least the monk and her other friends did not seem to have noticed her distraction—or her frantic mental flailing about it. She wasn't sure she could have ever lived it down if they had noticed, especially if they knew the cause of that distraction.

With a sense of great relief, she went back to inventorying her gear, and the mental tally of what she needed in order to be at full strength for the next fight. She had laid everything out already, working almost automatically. Now she needed only to obtain a few supplies that were running low, see to the maintenance of her various weapons, and put everything back in its place. Easy.

Except she couldn't help watching the monk out of the corner of her eye as she set to work on the hiraikotsu. He still had that thoughtful look on his face that made her wonder what he was thinking about.

Horrified, she realized she had already let her mind wander again.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy after all.