Across the vast void, it was singing that reached Ronuku. The voice was soft and gentle, barely louder than a whisper, but it was steady and comforting. Though his mind was still too clouded for coherent thought, his soul recognized it immediately. That voice meant warmth, it meant strength and love and kindness, and everything that he cherished.

On the brink of death he'd been ready to succumb to the void, but that voice was the beacon of light that called him out of the fog and drew him in to shore. Longing to be closer, he followed it without question, let him draw him all the way back until at last he began to feel again.

Feeling was not at all as pleasant as the voice.

Air had to pass through a throat made of sandpaper before it reached his weary lungs, each thump of his heart was a hammer against his chest. Every inch of his body felt bruised and battered, there wasn't a part of him that didn't ache. The worst part of it was that he couldn't move, it was if he were made of cold stone, his fingers too heavy to lift, his head too heavy to turn.

The voice was still there though, singing softly as though she were no less than a few feet away from him. This calmed his weary soul, as long as he could hear her then the pain seemed bearable. Since he could do nothing else, he lay still and listened, letting the gentle lilt soothe him.

"Sis," another voice interrupted, causing the singing to stop, "Are you sure you're strong enough for this? You weren't able to sit up until yesterday."

"I'm fine Kohaku," the voice responded, not unkindly, "They've got to eat, they'll be too small for anything else for a while yet. Kaede's brought herbs to help me out."

"Yeah, but there's only one of you and two of them."

As if to punctuate his statement, another voice cried out. It whimpered, a small quavering sound that turned Ronuku's head in confusion. He knew he'd heard something like this before, but it took his mind a few moments to connect memory and cohesive thought. When understanding struck him, his pulse quickened.

A baby.

There was a baby in the room.

Memories began to flood his garbled mind as the blood ran quicker through his veins. An eternity ago he'd left Sango to train, promising to return before the baby came. Not a day had passed without him thinking of his wife or his unborn child, he'd pushed through Seiko's training in the hopes that he would return and be there for them. Fatherhood beckoned him, everything was about to change with this new little life on the way.

But Naraku had shattered that dream, hadn't he? Sango and the baby were dead, torn apart by that demon's hands, that's what his heart and soul had screamed to him for days on end. Memories of the being trapped in the darkness were shaky at the moment, everything had seemed like a hurricane of hatred and despair, his soul ruptured by the loss of his wife and future.

And yet…he'd fought Sango in the darkness, hadn't he? He'd been driven by hate at the loss of her, and yet she'd been there, how could that be? Nothing seemed to make sense.

How was it that he could now hear her voice no more than a few feet away from him?

"It sounds like Ryu's ready for his turn. Don't worry Kohaku, each day I feel like there's a little bit more, I've got enough for both of them. Here, take Aizou for a moment." There was the sound of shuffling, a baby's voice whimpered once more, but was soon quiet as Sango resumed her singing.

Ronuku had to see her. He had to know that he existed in a reality where Sango was still here, that everything he heard was real and not a dream conjured up by his dying mind. And yet his body refused to obey, he didn't have the strength to command his neck or head.

Frustration clawed at his heart. How had he become so weak?

If I could only open my damn eyes!

His eyelids felt heavier than mountains, it would take all the strength he had just to lift them. Sango's voice gently floated through the air, calling to him. Everything in his being strived to reach her, her singing encouraged him, and he fought against the exhaustion that slowly crept along his pathetically weakened body. With a heave of effort, the lids slowly rose until at last light flooded his eyes.

Fighting against the urge to shut them again, Ronuku's eyes took what felt like ages to adjust. When at last they did, he glanced around in every direction, searching for the voice until at last he found her.

Sango sat little more than an arm's reach away from him. Sunlight danced through the hair that covered half of her face, bringing out the warm chocolate tones that hid within her dark locks. Her cheeks were rosy with life, a small smile graced her lips as she sung softly at the tiny bundle in her arms. At her breast was an infant, dark tufts of hair that promised to one day be as lovely as Sango's dusted his crown. The child gurgled contently, safe and fed in the loving arms of his mother.

Ronuku's heart leapt at the sight, a sense of joy and wonder flooded him and he found that he couldn't look away.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Sango was alive…

Their baby, his baby…

They were alive. This wasn't a dream, they were alive!

His fingers twitched. He wanted to reach for them, take them in his arms and hold them forever, but his body refused to obey. Instead he contented himself with the sight of them, burning the image into his mind so that he would never forget this moment.

"…Ronuku?"

Sango had seen the slight movement and glanced at him. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment time stopped. Ages had passed since they'd last looked at each other, but brown eyes met hazel, neither of them clouded by anger or hate. Ronuku was himself, and as he looked at his wife he couldn't keep the love from his expression.

Fighting against the massive weight that was his jaw, he managed to open his mouth and croak out a single word.

"Hey."

Sango's eyes widened. She suddenly lunged forward, much to the baby's annoyance, and grabbed Ronuku's icy hand. It seemed a miracle that he could feel the warmth of her skin against his.

"Ronuku! You're awake!" Sango cried out, tears suddenly forming at her visible eye, only just now did Ronuku notice the bandage covering half of her face. She quickly turned to her brother, "Kohaku, go get Kaede, o-or Kagome, someone! Tell them that Ronuku is awake, he's alive!" The younger taijiya was already halfway gone before she spoke, running with a small bundle in his arms as he shouted to someone else.

As Ronuku looked at his wife, now within reaching distance, he finally began to notice that most of her was covered in bandages, not just her face. The skin that wasn't covered revealed nasty purple and yellow welts, nearly every inch of her seemed bruised or beaten.

Ronuku had questions, he saw that Sango's mouth was moving, but none of her words seemed to make sense in his head any more. What little movement he'd done had exhausted him, his eyelids began to droop, the mountainous weight pulling them down once more.

By the time Kaede arrived Ronuku had fallen asleep.

The next several weeks passed in a blur, due to the fact that Ronuku was asleep for most of it. No longer in a coma, but he was still too weak to stay awake for very long. Most of the times he awoke Sango was at his side; if not her then it was usually Kohaku who didn't hesitate to go alert his sister and she would return in a matter of seconds. They were especially worried about him, just because he was awake again didn't mean that he was going to survive.

It wasn't until the first time Kaede showed up with a bowl of food that Ronuku realized that he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He doubted that Naraku had been kind enough to let him eat during the ordeal, or if the situation had even allowed it. His sense of time was completely out of wack, for all he knew it had been months since his last meal. But shouldn't he have starved to death by now?

Kaede had been smart in insisting that he only take in broth at first, he immediately felt sick after the first spoonful, and by the second he was vomiting it back up. Made even more frustrating by the fact that he still couldn't move his body, they'd quickly had to roll him onto his side so that he wouldn't drown in his own puke.

Starvation suddenly seemed like a terrifyingly possible outcome.

Sango was patient though. After the first failed attempt at eating, she helped him again, feeding him one slow spoonful at a time, making sure he didn't take in any more than he could keep down. Ronuku felt ashamed that he'd been reduced to such a state, and there were brief moments where he almost wished that they would just let him starve to death.

Dehydration was another issue that everyone was worried about. Having his stomach accept broth was already enough of a hassle, but he overheard Kagome telling Sango that she thought it wouldn't be enough water for his body. After that he always awoke with a wet cloth on his forehead, sometimes Sango would have another one that she would stroke his arms or collar bone with. Since IV's didn't exist yet, the theory was that hopefully the moisture would soak in through his skin.

Each day that Ronuku woke was another day that everyone knew that their persistence was rewarded, they continued to nurse him in the hopes that he would again wake tomorrow. Despite the pain and humiliation, Ronuku clung to the waking world for as long as he could. His resilience met their encouragement, it seemed that each day he was able to stay awake just a little bit longer than the last. Even though he couldn't converse in anything further than weakened one-word answers or grunts, he could still be near them and listen.

His soul, perhaps even more starved than his body, devoured every word or interaction that took place in the presence of his waking mind.

"Ronuku," Sango spoke to him gently one day, "If you think you're up to it, would you like to meet them?"

Kagome had come by earlier and provided him with extra pillows so that he could sit up for once, she said that it wasn't good for his body to lay in the same position for so long. His numb body hadn't been aware of the bed sores or muscle cramps; when they helped him up the pain that shot through his limbs nearly sent him straight back into oblivion. His head spun at the sudden new angle, and it took him several long moments before he felt balanced enough to be able to look around.

His wife's words anchored his mind. He'd only caught glimpses of the baby here and there, at moments he thought his spinning head imagined there was more than one, but his heart leapt as Sango spoke.

Them? Babies?

He nodded, thankful that the gesture wasn't too taxing of an effort. Sango smiled, and took a swaddled bundle from Kohaku sitting nearby. The blanket cooed and squirmed, a tiny voice making its presence known to anyone within earshot.

"This is your daughter," Sango said, bringing the infant close enough for him to see, "Aizou."

'Love at first sight' had never meant anything to Ronuku until that moment.

The little cherubic face gurgled, tiny eyes glancing up at her father. In her face he could see himself, from the shape of her eyes to the curve of her small chin. Her rosy cheeks glowed with energy, lips like flower petals moved rapidly as she murmured in her high pitched voice, almost like the tinkling of a bell.

This little life existed because of him, he and Sango had created her together. All at once Ronuku felt awed and humbled, that something so wonderful came from him…

Aizou's tiny hands came free from her blanket as she thrust them above her head with a mighty coo, her chubby fingers curling and gripping the air around her.

"What's that Aizou?" Sango smiled and rocked her baby, "Are you excited to meet your Papa?"

Slowly, not realizing he'd done it, Ronuku lifted his hand towards his daughter. Without hesitating, the infant reached out and gripped his finger, the entirety of her hand barley passing his first knuckle. The strength of her grip surprised him; though she only held Ronuku's finger, he felt her grasp deep down in his bones, as though that tiny hand were holding his heart.

"…She's beautiful." He croaked, his voice weakened by more than just exhaustion.

Sango's bottom lip trembled through her smile, and she hastily blinked her tears away. When Aizou let go of her father's hand, Sango turned and swapped her with the other bundle that Kohaku held. This one was smaller, and the figure inside wasn't moving as much.

"This is Ryu," Sango held the baby closer for him to see, "Your son."

The infant boy slept within his blankets, his peaceful face motionless until a large yawn escaped his lips and he inched closer to his mother's warmth. Ronuku had been floored by the sight of his first child, but the second shook his soul. For months he'd been excited and terrified and anxious at the thought of becoming a father, he knew that the new baby was going to change his life, but to have two!

His hand came up and rested against his son's forehead. The child's pale skin was soft and delicate, softer than anything Ronuku had ever felt, and his heart leapt when the boy opened his eyes briefly to look at him. Above those eyes Ryu sported a thick set of eyebrows, identical to Ronuku's.

When Ronuku had come to the Sengoku Jidai he had been nothing more than a delinquent punk; an angry selfish kid who wanted nothing more than to escape the shitty life he had on the other side of the well.

His world was completely different now. He was a father. Father to the two most amazing beings he had ever seen, they were his.

He had a family that was entirely his.

"I was so happy when the twins arrived," Sango said, lovingly gazing at her son, "I think…they're about a month old now. They're growing so fast, Aizou's trying to hold her head up on her own, and I heard Ryu laugh the other day…" Sango's explanation continued, but Ronuku's blood had suddenly run cold.

A month?

His happiness quickly dissolved.

A month. His children had lived an entire month without him.

He glanced at Sango and tried to recall the last time he had seen her before he'd woken up in this tent. Only a few months pregnant, her belly had only been slightly swollen, tears falling from her eyes as she said goodbye. What was it he had said to her?

"Don't worry Sango. This stupid training thing that Kaida and Naoe are pushing on us won't take that long. I'll be back before the baby comes, just you wait and see!"

He'd missed it. He'd missed all of it. Sango had suffered through the rest of her pregnancy without him, with the threat of Naraku hanging over her head she'd carried two babies into this world without him. Ronuku had promised to come back on time, and he'd failed. And now he knew that she'd been raising not one, but two, babies all on her own.

Without him.

Some father he was shaping up to be. Barely even a month old and he'd already let them down!

Sango continued talking, happily gazing down at her son, and Ronuku took another look at her. His wife, his beloved wife, was covered in bruises and was obviously exhausted. He stared at the bandage covering half of her face, and a sudden memory surfaced from the back of his mind: Sango screaming in agony, clutching her face in terror as he stood over her, her blood dripping from his weapon.

That wound.

I did that to her.

His stomach turned, he wanted to be sick. All of her wounds, those were his fault weren't they?!

Sango had had to carry his children into the world alone, raised them alone, and nearly died…his children could have died…and it was his fucking fault.

"…I'm glad you're here," Sango's voice reached him again, "Now that Naraku's gone it…it's finally safe for us. We can raise Ryu and Aizou together." She smiled at him. Despite all her wounds, all her scars, the damaged half of her face, Sango smiled at Ronuku without a trace of malice.

Sango…

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Ronuku grabbed her hand, meaning to say something, but his voice refused to work. Instead he looked at her, tears spilling down his face.

I don't deserve you.

More memories began to surface from the time he'd spent under Naraku's control. These mostly came while he was asleep, his slumbering mind tormented with the sins he'd committed under the will of the jewel. The waking world should have been an escape, except that every time he saw the bandage on Sango's face he could hear her scream. That sound haunted his mind nearly every hour of the day.

"Ronuku, you seem to be doing a lot better," Kagome said, interrupting his waking nightmare as she checked his pulse at the wrist, "Your skin color is almost back to normal, how do you feel?"

Like shit.

"Better," he mumbled.

"Ronuku's sitting up most of the time he's awake now," Sango said as she patted Aizou's back in an attempt to burp her. The infant screamed in frustration as the gas bubble refused to surface, "He's been eating more and keeping all of his food down."

"Good," Kagome smiled, "You'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Tch, that makes one of 'em." Inuyasha grunted, his ears flattened against his head as he glared at the screaming baby. A moment later, a soft burp escaped Aizou's lips and she greedily resumed nursing.

"What's the matter?" Sango asked, seemingly unfazed by her daughter's squalling, "Isn't Kohana improving too?"

Kagome and Inuyasha exchanged a worried glance. Unease began to bubble in Ronuku's gut.

"Well," the young miko began to explain hesitantly, "It's…her fever has gotten worse. There's been trouble repairing her arm, and now the infection is beginning to spread…"

"We should just cut the damn thing off."

"Inuyasha!"

"What?" The hanyou snorted, "Sesshomaru's an idiot. If keeping a useless arm's going to kill her, then just get rid of it!"

"You of all people can't think of a reason why Sesshomaru would want us to try every possible option before it came to that?!" Kagome's glare could have crumbled stone.

"Er," Inuyasha twitched uncomfortably, suddenly folding his arms and glancing away, "I…well…" Shaking her head, Kagome turned to Sango and began assessing her injuries while asking questions about the babies.

A cold feeling settled over Ronuku. Kohana had been just as much a part of this as himself, they'd both fallen prey to Naraku's trap and hurt their friends. He suffered nightmares, guilt clawed at his soul, but physically he was improving. He still felt constant pain, but it had dulled to an annoyance…or he simply became used to it. He could control all of his limbs now, was growing strong enough to speak, he could sit up for hours. In time he might have full control of his body once more.

And yet…Kohana, his sister…she'd committed the exact same crimes as he had, and now she was at risk of losing her arm? He faced no risk of losing limb, his life appeared to be returning to him, how was it that her punishment was worse?!

Kagome, having finished her discussion with Sango, gathered her things and moved to stand. Just as she was almost up, a sudden look of pain crossed her face, she yelped and crumpled towards the ground. Inuyasha caught her in less than a heartbeat, his arms supporting her as he helped her stand again.

"You need to rest," Inuyasha said, his voice without any of its usual gruffness.

"I-I'm fine," Kagome insisted, "I just stood on my ankle wrong, that's all."

Ronuku thought he caught a glimpse of a think bandage encasing Kagome's leg beneath the hem of her hakama. He realized that every time he'd seen her lately she'd been limping, not doubt an injury she'd obtained in her fight against the jewel.

Another injury that was most likely his fault.

"You're standing on it all the time," Inuyasha argued softly, "That's why it's not healing."

"Yes it is. I can walk just fine on my own, see-" Kagome had squirmed away from him, but the second she put weight on her foot her face crumpled in pain and she was lifted once more into Inuyasha's arm.

"No," the hanyou huffed, "You can't. You need to rest."

"He's right," Sango said, "Don't worry about us Kagome, you need to take care of yourself for a while."

The miko's face had grown slightly pale, she eventually conceded to resting and allowed Inuyasha to carry her out of the tent. Just before they left, the hanyou paused and looked at Ronuku.

"Hey," He said, his golden eyes meeting Ronuku's with a rare look of sincerity, "We're glad you're back."

Inuyasha was gone before he could answer, but Ronuku frowned. Glad? How could he be glad? Kagome had been limping for weeks, the poor girl could barely stand on her own anymore. Ronuku glanced down at his body, and narrowed his eyes.

Everyone around him was suffering, all because of his stupid mistake, and yet he was improving. How the fuck was that fair?!

Others came to visit him, but this failed to raise his spirits or brighten his mood. Kaida came to check on him several times, but the noblewoman had lost her proud stride and the dark bags forming under her eyes revealed just how little sleep she was getting.

"How's Naoe?" The fact that Ronuku had heard nothing of his mentor bothered him deeply. Nobody, save Kaida, had seen anything of the samurai ever since the battle had ended.

"Recovering," Was the noblewoman's only answer, she remained tight-lipped and refused to say any more. It was enough to hint that something terrible had happened though, Ronuku wished that he could go look for Naoe himself. When the bushi closed his eyes and tried to picture his mentor, a memory surfaced of the stench of blood so overwhelming that he nearly gagged. The pool of guilt in his heart deepened.

"Jeeze lazy, still laying around in bed?"

"…Risu?" The familiar high pitched chittering had roused Ronuku from his slumber the moment he heard it. He fought another wave of nausea as he sat up, having fallen asleep with his back against the pillows. His heart lightened a little at the sight of his tiny vassal sitting next to him, bushy tail twitching with energy.

"Long time no see, eh?" The squirrel chirped excitedly, his beady eyes full of warmth as he gazed up at his master and friend, "Look here, you're a dad now! Since you're pretty new to this I'll give you some pointers: you can't lay around in bed all day and let your mate do all the work!"

"S'that so?"

"Yeah! Otherwise she might kick you out and tell you not to come back without sustenance for all of the kits! You might meet a loud samurai, end up owing your life to him, and have to hang out with his weird friends all the time…," His tail twitched with mirth, "But, I suppose for the very few who are as fortunate as I am, everything turns out better in the end because of it."

Ronuku's throat tightened at his friend's words. It had been a long time since he'd found the hopeless squirrel wandering in the woods. Though he hadn't always been the most reliable companion, Risu's antics had often brought everyone laughter and he was always ready to offer his opinion and give advice, no matter how helpful it was or wasn't.

When Ronuku had left to train, he'd fully expected Risu to ditch the group and run away. He hadn't though, and the bushi knew he'd underestimated the cowardly little squirrel. It had been Risu's face and voice that had delivered Naraku's false message, but by now Ronuku new the truth of it. Risu had stayed by Sango's side as ordered until she gave birth, his true intention had been to bring Ronuku home to her.

Because of that, Risu had lost his life.

"Given your circumstances though," the squirrel continued, completely unaware of his master's melancholy train of thought, "I'm sure your mate won't mind it if you stay in bed a little bit longer. I know you've usually got a lot to say, but how about you just relax for now, and I'll give you an update as to what's going on outside this tent. Recca and his gang are pretty excited to see you, but they're under strict orders to help the samurai rebuild the village while they let the rest of you heal. The village might take a while to get back up, but Kaida's brought a lot of man power…"

Ronuku was thankful to have news of the outside world, the squirrel having jokingly declared to spy for him, but as his tale went on the bushi was lulled back into an uneasy sleep. This time his dreams were haunted by animals, all of the creatures of the forest lay dead beneath his feet, surrounded by lifeless trees and a poisonous haze. At the top of these corpses lay Risu's dead body, his lifeless eyes staring into Ronuku's soul the entire night.

It rained the next several days, matching Ronuku's mood. He ate when he was told, sat up when the nausea wasn't keeping him down, but his short answers and grunts had faded into silence. Sango was becoming worried, he could tell, but screaming echoed in his ears, the stench of blood filled his lungs, he couldn't look anywhere without being reminded of the destruction wrought by his own hands.

The worst of this came when Sango had to leave the tent and report to one of the samurai that their roof had started leaking. Kirara had stayed behind, keeping the twins warm as they snuggled into her fur, as Kohaku was already out running an errand. The wind began to pick up, the bottoms of the tent flapping urgently, droplets of moisture spraying Ronuku with each gust. Irritated and frustrated that Sango should be the one fixing things yet again, and that Kirara was the one keeping his children warm while he did nothing, the bushi tried to push himself up past a sitting position.

The second he did a wave of nausea swiftly brought him back to the ground. The world spun, he had no sense of up or down, no balance to keep him upright; it took every ounce of his will to keep from vomiting for the hundredth time. Humiliated, he leaned back into bed, thankful that only Kirara was there to witness his failure.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the main tent flap, peeling back half of the cover and exposing them all to the howling wind and freezing droplets. The twins began to cry, Kirara pinned her ears back and covered the infants with her tails, and Ronuku lay there unable to do a thing except become frozen and drenched.

A figure ran in and grabbed their tent flap, pulling the wildly flinging fabric and dragging it back to the ground. The figure turned quickly and secured the ends to keep the flimsy structure from flying open again, the occupants once more protected from the outside elements.

"…Thanks," Ronuku grunted weakly, trying to hide the humiliation from his voice. When the figure turned to face him, the bushi's gut turned to ice.

Miroku stared at him. A gulf of silence swelled between them as Ronuku noted the thick scar at the base of the monk's throat. Hideous memories began to swell in his mind, the glint of his sword, the stench of blood, that horrible gurgling noise that slowly ebbed away into death…

Neither of them moved. Their gazes held one another, blue eyes and hazel locked in an intimate embrace, and Ronuku knew with absolute certainty that Miroku was reliving the moment of his death.

Ronuku hadn't just caused this tragedy.

He'd killed Miroku with his own hands.

The air suddenly felt thick in the tent, the energy between the two of them became heavy as though a big dark cloud filled the room. Kirara's fur bristled with unease, her ears pinned against her skull. Time seemed to stop, no one knowing who would make the first move.

The spell holding them captive was broken when Sango burst back into the tent.

"Thank you so much, I saw the tent collapsing and I didn't think I would make it in time to…" Her voice died away, her face taking on the taught lines of anxiety as she eyed the two men in the room. Miroku looked at her, heartbreak showing in his is for but a brief second before a mask of indifference closed his thoughts from the world.

"Just helping out," Miroku's voice was a hideous noise unlike anything Ronuku had ever heard, "I couldn't let your children suffer being exposed to this weather. If you'll excuse me?" Without waiting for a response the monk stepped out into the rain and left.

"Ah, wait!" Sango called out, "Miroku…" She bit her lip, looking as though she were about to run after him, but she stayed in the tent. Ronuku looked at her, noting the look of anguish and confusion on her face before she turned to him.

"Oh no! Ronuku," she stepped towards him and knelt, "You're completely soaked!" She reached for him, intending to rearrange the blankets that had been tossed about in his failed attempt to get up. Once more he stared at the bandage covering her face, and a shiver ran through his spine not at all related to the rain.

"No," he said, his voice stopping her, "Help the kids."

"Ronuku, I can't leave you like this," she protested, "You've got to stay dry or else-" She reached towards him, but he flinched and turned away feeling like a complete monster. He couldn't bear her touch, not when he knew what he was capable of.

He'd murdered Miroku, killed a friend in cold blood. The bandage on Sango's face was proof enough that he had come within inches of doing the same to her; gruesome images flooded his mind as to what hideous mark lay hidden under that bandage. How much of her beautiful face had he destroyed?

Against his will, Sango had managed to replace his blanket with a dry one, but after that he became unresponsive. He refused to eat that night, or the following day, his only movement was to flinch away from his wife whenever she came close. Despite his withdrawal, Sango continued to coax him, fear and anguish in her voice thinly masked under a layer of tenderness.

How could she stand to be around him, how could she trust him around Ryu and Aizou, knowing what he'd done? When she would bear the mark of his actions on her face forever?

The rain finally stopped by the following night, the light of the moon peeking softly through the edges of the tent flap. The silver glow illuminated Sango and the twins as they slept against Kirara's fur. The light did not touch Ronuku. He sat awake in the shadows some distance from them, watching the lines of worry crease his wife's face in her exhausted slumber.

"You're blaming yourself."

Had he the energy to jump, Ronuku would have leapt out of his skin. His head snapped quickly in the direction of the voice. Kohaku stood at the entrance of the tent, the young slayer had volunteered every other night to help the samurai keep watch over the camp and had left over an hour ago to start his shift. He often stopped by several times to check on his sister during these nights, but now he was looking at Ronuku.

"I…I blamed myself too," Kohaku spoke shyly, though his gaze was open and honest, "For what Naraku made me do. I still do."

Ronuku's pulse quickened slightly. It only now occurred to him to realize that the last time he had seen his young brother-in-law, the boy had once again become possessed by Naraku and the jewel. Wrapped up in his own fear and grieving, he had completely forgotten about it.

"Sango saved you," Ronuku spoke softly, "The jewel's gone, you're free now." Kohaku nodded and moved to sit next to him.

"Yes, but I still remember…" the young slayer swallowed, "…I still remember that night. I can see the look on my father's face when I…when I killed him."

Ronuku's own murder victims floated through his mind, taunting him.

"I couldn't see how Sis could ever forgive me," Kohaku continued, "I killed our father, our comrades, I wounded her…But she did. Every time I did something bad, she forgave me." His fists had clenched in his lap, but he refused to lower his gaze, "I was there when Ryu and Aizou were born, she had rescued me by then. I was afraid to be around them at first, I didn't think that she could trust me with them after everything I'd done."

"Sis wasn't afraid though, of me. That was the happiest I'd seen her since we lost our village. Our family was the most important thing to her, Sis fought hard all these years to protect what family she had left. That's why she never stopped fighting for me…and that's why she never stopped fighting for you."

It was as if a small electrical current zapped through Ronuku.

Family.

He felt it in his soul, all the way back to Tsuneo. Love of family and the desire to protect them had been what drove him to leave and train in the first place, had unlocked the powers of the sacred bond, and had drug them all into the horrible chaos at the jewel's behest. He glanced at Sango, still asleep.

Love. Family. That had gotten them out of this mess as well.

"If Sis can forgive me for what I've done," Kohaku said, "Then she'll forgive you too."

Ronuku continued to look at his sleeping wife. Guilt and anguish urged him to run from her, but underneath that still ran the desire to hold her close and never let go.

"What about you?" He asked after a moment, looking back at Kohaku "Can you forgive yourself?" The young slayer hesitated for a moment, a big sigh shaking his lanky frame. He looked old in that moment, far older than any teenage boy had a right to.

"Some days are easier than others," he answered at last, "I'm still working on it."

Ronuku nodded, thinking he understood. The guilt might ease over time, but it would never go away. It was a burden he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

Kohaku left shortly after that, continuing his rounds, but for the first night since he returned Ronuku stayed awake. He watched his wife and children sleep, thinking about what was most important to him in this world.

He was still awake when the sun rose, golden rays creeping quietly across the grass and filling their world with light. When the warmth of day touched her, Sango's visible eye fluttered open. Yawning she sleepily sat up away from Kirara's fur, stretching as the giant cat behind her snuggled closer to the still slumbering infants, a rare day that they hadn't woken up before everyone else.

"I'm sorry," Ronuku blurted.

Sango's head snapped in his direction, her eye widening in surprise at finding him awake.

"Ronuku, what's the matter?" She asked moving closer until she sat next to him, "Are you all right? Do I need to get Kagome or Kaede?" She searched his face for answers, but instead his hand met hers, bruised knuckles cradling her calloused palm.

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking straight into her eyes, putting all of his guilt and anguish on display for her. He watched as horrible understanding dawned on her.

"Ronuku," she breathed, her face twisting in sorrow, "That wasn't your fault. Naraku, the jewel, they were using you, that wasn't you who did those things."

"No," he closed his eyes for a moment, "Not that. No…no apology will ever make up for…for that…" He shuddered once, but opened his eyes again, "But for everything else."

"I should never have left," he continued, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I promised that I would be back on time and I…I wasn't. You had to give birth to Ryu and Aizou all on your own-"

"I wasn't alone," She started to protest, "Kagome, Kohaku, everyone else was there to-" His hand tightened around hers, and she closed her mouth.

"I'm their father," he said, "I should have been there for you. For them. And I wasn't. You've been raising them without me. And now here I am, laying around doing nothing, while you have to do everything. You're taking care of them, and me, and I'm sitting around feeling sorry for myself and making you worry about me. You shouldn't have to worry any more, I shouldn't be causing you pain anymore!"

"It was my damn fault this all happened," his voice shook, and he looked at her bandage again, "I'm so fucking stupid, Naraku tricked me into thinking you were dead, and I believed him without asking. If it weren't for me, Kohana wouldn't have been tricked either, we wouldn't have fallen under his control, we wouldn't have attacked you, I wouldn't have hurt you." He let go of her and reached for her bandaged face, but her hand caught his before he could.

She laced her fingers between his, and brought his hand to her heart.

"You left to protect us," she said, "That's how your powers work, isn't it? Ronuku, you were trying to protect us all along, don't think I don't know that."

"Yeah, but-"

Sango pressed her forehead against his, silencing him.

"And you're here now," she whispered, "You're alive, our children are alive, my brother is alive. That's all that matters."

Her closeness sent his heart racing, it had been more than an eternity and a journey through hell since Ronuku had felt the comforting warmth of her body.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "Sango, I'm so sorry. Do…do you-"

"Forgive you? I already have."

She kissed him, and the heavy weight on heart eased slightly. His free hand came around to the back of her head and pulled her closer, deepening their kiss. The guilt would never be gone, but with Sango he could manage. As long as he had Sango, he had a reason to continue.

They were interrupted by a scream. Sango quickly backed away from him as a second voice began screaming. The twins, their usual breakfast time having long since passed, woke up unfed and unhappy.

"I suppose I should've seen to them sooner," Sango, burying her slight annoyance at their timing, stood up and walked towards her babies.

"Let me help," Ronuku said, "I'm strong enough now. Let me hold one of them while you feed the other."

Sango paused for a moment, smile growing wide on her face as she nodded. A moment later, a squalling hungry Aizou was placed in Ronuku's arms, his wife sitting next to him with Ryu at her breast. It was awkward at first, the bushi had only ever seen Kohana and Futeki; he had very little experience with babies.

"Make sure you support her neck," Sango instructed, "She's trying, but she's still not strong enough to hold her head up on her own yet." He nodded, making sure the bulk of his arm kept Aizou's neck secure, and took his first step into parenting.

"Hey, hey there kiddo," Ronuku rocked his daughter and made hushing noises, "Just sit with me. Papa's here, I'm here now, you'll get your turn soon." She screamed at him, angry and furious until it was time to switch places with her brother, but he didn't mind.

He'd gone to hell and back, become a monster and committed countless atrocities, and at the end of it Ronuku had come out with his family intact.

He silently vowed that until the end of his days, he was never leaving them, never again.

"I'm ready Kaede."

"Hold still then," the elderly priestess spoke, "This will only take a few moments."

Ronuku hid his worry by playing with Ryu, poking his son's nose and chuckling as the little boy gurgled and flailed his arms about in a vain attempt to capture the giant hand that kept touching his face. Kohaku sat nearby, Aizou asleep in his arms, and Kirara lounged in her small form, tails twitching as she watched her mistress.

Today was the day that Sango's bandage was coming off for good.

The taijiya sat quietly with her eyes closed, unmoving as Kaede's deft hands circled her head repeatedly, one layer of bandage coming off slowly after another. Ronuku had been dreading this moment, his imagination had gone wild with what sort of horrible mutilation lay on his wife's face. The time had finally come to face the truth of his actions.

After several long minutes, Kaede pulled the last length of bandage away and sat to the side.

His heart broke when he saw it. A deep gash had been cut into her face, starting above her left eye near the scalp and ending in her cheek. The wound had healed, but the ugly puckered scar would remain on her face for the rest of her life.

Unnerved by the silence, Sango opened her eyes. Both of them. Her husband's heart leapt at this, and he sent a fervent thanks to every god he could think of. Her flesh had been damaged, but a miracle had spared her eye. Brown, unclouded, unwounded, she blinked several times, letting it adjust to the light.

"H-how is it?" Ronuku asked nervously, "Can you see?"

After a moment, she turned and looked at them. He felt her gaze pass over them one by one: Himself. Ryu. Kohaku. Aizou. Kirara.

"Yes," Sango said, a smile lighting up her face, looking as beautiful in that moment as he had ever seen her, "I can see you."