Hi all. I apologize for the delay, I recently graduated with my advanced degree and so RL took priority, but now that it's done I want to make it a goal to finish this fic, hopefully by the end of this year. I'm working two chapters ahead, and updates should come faster now. You can periodically check update progress at my Tumblr papermagnolias (update progress in the menu bar). Thank you to all the lovely reviews and messages over the last months.
For those of you who read the chapter when it initially came out, I pulled a retcon (sorry!) and fleshed out the fight scene from chapter fourteen. This chapter will make more sense if you go back and read it.
Chapter 15: Day 79
He helped her the rest of the way to the inn when she started to tire half way back, her arm slung over his shoulder, his arm curled around her waist. Mina was sitting in the garden, idly rolling a half eaten fruit in her hands, but at the sight of them, she jumped to her feet, rushing over to them with an odd mixture of fear and suspicion in her face.
"Who are you?" she demanded at Inuyasha, then stopped as she saw Sango's face, the way her arm curled around his neck, the cat curled in her other arm. The woman bit her lip, fingering the hem of her sleeve, then with out a word, motioned for them both to follow her back to Sango's room. She opened the door, bowing, and Inuyasha and her stepped over the threshold.
When he'd gone to close the door with an elbow, Mina clutched the frame, stopping the motion.
"Are you going to hurt her?" she said in a rush, surprising the both of them. Sango flushed. When Inuyasha only blinked, she continued, a little nervously, "I—I have cared for her these long days. She—she was very hurt, when she first came."
Sango looked up at Inuyasha's profile to find an oddly blank look on his face. After a moment, he nodded at the girl. "I won't hurt her."
Mina's eyes flashed to meet Sango's eyes, who nodded also. Only then did she reluctantly close the door and leave them.
Inuyasha walked her to the futon and crouched, allowing Sango to slide on to the blanket, Kirara still curled up in her chest. When Sango's grip slackened from his sleeve, he moved away immediately, putting distance between them. She bit her lip, moving to cuddle Kirara more closely to her instead.
Inuyasha dropped cross-legged to the ground a few feet from her, hands flexing in his lap as he observed her. She observed him in turn. He looked more strung out than normal. He had shadows under his eyes and his bangs were damp with sweat. She didn't know where he had come from, but he probably had been racing to get here. He had to be exhausted.
And yet the longer he stared, his eyes cataloging the bruises on her face, her neck, the more intense his eyes got, the more he started to grind his teeth.
There was no putting off talking, then. Not that she really wanted to, but talking to Inuyasha when he was so close to losing his temper was never a good thing.
"What happened?" she pre-empted him, before he could ask her. Or explode on her.
He hissed a breath between his teeth. "What happened to you?"
Sango persisted, "How did you find Kirara?"
His eyes, orange and thready, bore into her, prodding for any sign of weakness. When she didn't budge, he muttered, "We were coming to get you. There was a large jewel shard nearby."
Sango blinked. "Kagome hadn't mentioned anything before."
His cheek twitched, his ears flattening on his head. He sneered, "Yeah, well you up and disappeared."
Sango said nothing, pursing her lips. They sat in silence, staring each other down.
Then Inuyasha sighed sharply. "We got there maybe a day after your fight. Found Kirara curled up in her small form high in a cliff wall, wounded and feverish. Wouldn't let anyone but Shippou approach her. He had to care for her in that fucking wall—" Inuyasha's face tightened, glaring down at his fist.
Sango looked down at Kirara. The cat's little body quivered as she slept, so much thinner than Sango had ever remembered it being. Tears sprang to her eyes and she willed them down.
When she looked back up, Inuyasha's stare was burning into her stronger than before, flickering over every inch of her bruised skin again, as if carving her into his memory stroke by careful stroke.
"You were gone," he said slowly. "It had rained the night before. Your scent, your blood was mostly washed away. Eventually we found the ravine that—" his claws flexed, raking into the wood "—where that thing was. Your blood was fucking everywhere but you were gone…"
He paused, started to say something, then paused again. She waited, almost afraid to make a sound, feeling tension build in her chest.
"With all the blood", he said eventually, "we were trying to decide if…if there was even a chance you were still alive. And we were still…figuring it all out when—" he nodded to Kirara "—you called her."
"What happened?" he asked finally.
Sango looked down at her hands. Most of the knuckles and joints bloomed purple, the meat of her palms a mottled black color in the shape of a hilt. Under her yukata, an ugly jagged ring bloomed on almost the entirety of her upper left arm, all that remained from where her bone had snapped. Brief snatches of memory flashed in her mind and she flinched away.
She felt numb. She hadn't processed any of what had happened over the last few days, merely sinking into the reprieve of living in the singular moment. Mina had made that easy. She had known it wouldn't last and yet—
Some of the facts, at least, were easy enough to say.
"I ran into the demon by mistake. It was stupid. I was chasing someone I …" she stopped, swallowed. "… I thought I recognized. And then I found that demon instead. Kirara tried to help me but then she got hurt and I…"
"Did it hurt you?" He interrupted suddenly.
Sango blinked, finding the the question absurd until she saw the look on his face. There was something so still in his features, a faint pulsing red in the viscera of his eyes.
Mina had asked if he would hurt her. Did he think…?
"No," she said immediately. "Not in that way."
He breathed out little, slowly. "And after?"
Her lips twisted downward. "No. Or…I don't think so. I don't remember a lot of what happened after." And that was true. "I was delirious. Dreaming. I'm still not really sure what was real. But…" she petted Kirara gently. "There was a shikon shard used on me."
He stiffened. His eyes scanned her body again. "Do you still have it?" he asked.
She looked down. "No. They took it out when it started to…merge with me."
Inuyasha's fist hit the ground. The wood plank buckled and snapped in two, skittering across the floor. Sango blinked up at him to see him pushing to his feet, towering over her. His eyes were seething molten gold, flashing at their core with a dull red.
"You mean," he snarled, "the jewel started taking your soul?"
She looked down, face tightening. "What does it matter?"
"What does it—," he cut off, furious, turning on her. "It does fucking matter. It means you died."
The word plunged like a knife in her heart. The demon's grinning face swam in her mind, making her tremble slightly. She struggled to keep the emotion from her face.
"I made a mistake. It won't happen again," she said eventually when her voice was level enough, hoping this would end the discussion. Somehow, that seemed to make him even more angry.
"You don't even—shit." Inuyasha cursed, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration. When he finally looked back at her, his eyes were sullen. "Do you even know who?"
She looked away.
"Sango," he said dangerously.
"We both know who it could be," she almost spat. "I just. I don't know. A lot happened. I'm not sure what part of my memories I can trust." Her mind flashed to the parchment. She needed answers.
"Then tell me," he said, claws flexing as if he was resisting the urge to shake her. "Don't shut me out. Two fucking weeks you were gone. We thought—"
Sango was saved from responding when suddenly the shoji screen flew open and Mina was standing there, panting.
The woman took one look at the broken floor board and rounded on Inuyasha with indignation. "I am going to have to ask you both to cease for the night," she said hotly. "She needs her rest. And I won't have you damaging my inn."
Inuyasha glared up at the women, before snorting and turning away. When he started stalking to the window, the women said, "We can prepare a room for you—"
"Don't bother," he said shortly, and then he was climbing out the window. He paused on the threshold though, turning a burning stare first to the woman, who fidgeted under the scrutiny, then to Sango, who only stared defiantly back. "This conversation is not over," he warned, a promise.
In a cascade of silver hair, he went up over the window sill and was gone.
"Well," Mina was saying as she helped Sango wash her hair. "Who does he think he is, getting so angry in front of someone who is still injured. And he destroyed our floor!"
Sango, who was washing Kirara's fur as she lay drowsily in her lap, felt a pang of guilt. His anger was after all, partly her fault. "He was only feeling protective of me," she said, then paused, feeling the surreal nature of the moment that only months ago would have been impossible. Her defending a youkai to a stranger.
Mina didn't seem to notice. She sniffed, "Well, he could be a little more gentlemanly about it."
The idea of Inuyasha being gentlemanly made Sango snort, then laugh out loud. When she turned to look at Mina, a grin playing on her lips, she found the girl staring at her in surprise. "What?" she asked, smiling.
Mina merely shook her head, a smile of her own on her lips. "Nothing," she said, then after resuming brushing her fingers through Sango's hair, "You are very strong."
Sango's smile faded. "Not really," she said, returning to her ministrations, but Mina was shaking her head.
"You are," she said, reaching around to scratch Kirara's head, who purred contentedly at the attention. "You are friends with demons after all." When Sango stiffened, Mina gave a little laugh of her own, nudging Sango's arm. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
Sango looked at her warily. "Not many do, no."
"Oh," Mina sat back, moving to wash her own hair. "Well it is obvious to me. But I won't breath a word, I promise. This one is sweet—" another ear scratch for Kirara, another purr—" And as for the other…" She paused, then smiled slyly. "His heart is in the right place, at least."
Sango sank deeper into the water, muttering "And what does his heart have anything to do with it?"
Mina looked curiously at her, then giggled, rolling her eyes. "Never mind. Turn around, I'll rinse you off now."
An hour later, she said goodbye to Mina with a smile, but the smile drained as she stood in her dark room, alone. The shadows from the candle Mina had handed her flickered hypnotically against the wall.
Before she went to bed, Sango retrieved the scrap of paper from her pack and stood by the window. She read the familiar scrawl a final time.
We will come again, when the time is right. Back to the place it all began.
She crumpled the paper in a fist, then held it aloft to the candle flame. She watched it burn and spark, tiny red embers drifting out into the night in a silent dance.
Sango woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, only to find she was in the inn room, Kirara curled in a ball near her head. The nightmare slipped from her mind even as she tried to grasp it, leaving only a vacancy and sense of unease. She sat up slowly, pressing a hand to her heart, trying to still the pounding there.
A sound like boards creaking made her freeze, eyes snapping to the window. But when the sound didn't happen again, Sango narrowed her eyes. She rose silently and padded over to the window, leaning her head out to look around. Then she looked down.
Inuyasha was leaning against the wall under the window, cross legged and arms crossed. He had tilted his head back to look up at her. The half moon silhouetted his face, highlighting his golden eyes, reflective pools of light that they made her breath catch.
They stared at each other, the moment frozen crystalline. Sango's hair tumbled from her shoulder, brushing along his collar bone, casting streaks of shadows on his face. He reached for it almost absently, the strands gliding between his fingers, his eyes half lidded as he looked at her through silver lashes.
She wondered if he did it on purpose, looking like a devil promising the divine if she could only forget the consequence.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, swallowing, her eyes flickering down his face.
The moment broke. A scowl immediately darkened his features. He gave her hair a sharp tug, making her wince and then he let go and returned his gaze to the perimeter.
"Go to sleep," he growled. "It'll be an early start and I won't be held responsible if you don't get rest."
She blinked at the crown of his head. His ears were flattened slightly against his head, twitching as they took in the sounds of the night. She was struck suddenly with how much they looked like Kirara's, how soft they looked against his hair.
She'd only touched his human ears…
She leaned down slightly, enough to see him stiffen beneath her, a finger ghosting lightly against the shell of an ear, a light feathery sensation that made her skin tingle.
His arm shot up suddenly, tugging her wrist, and then she flipped with an embarrassing yelp and tumbled directly out of the window and into his lap. Before she could so much as freeze, he was already lifting her off of him and setting her non-to-gently on the ground.
"Hey—" she sputtered, hands barely finding purchase in the wet dirt of the garden bed. Her knees were already starting to feel damp through the fabric of her night yukata. She reached up angrily to push away the hair that obscured her face, "Why did you—"
Whatever she was going to say died at the incensed look on his face. She pulled back, studying him.
"You're mad," she said.
His jaw clenched.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, a flush working up her neck. "I shouldn't have touched—"
He made an angry noise, then he was enveloping her wrist again and pulling her half back into his lap, her knee falling into the loose gap between his legs so that she was partially straddling one of his knees. She braced an arm on his shoulder to sit up. His expression was torn between annoyance and frustration.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were deliberately misinterpreting me," he snapped, a bizarre contrast to the way his left hand had started to gather long strands of her hair again. It felt like his hands were always in her hair.
Sango swallowed. Then, "That's because you're very confusing."
The flat amber eyed look he gave her made every hair on her body stand on end. His jaw worked over, teeth grinding. "I shouldn't have to explain why I'm angry at you."
Tentatively, watching for any signs of rejection, she smoothed her hands on the shoulders of his haori. He let her, though the muscles in his neck stood out angrily, the vein in his neck visible.
"Is this because I left?" she said at last.
She felt his hand tighten in her hair. Even in the low light, it was clear he was scowling.
"We'll get to that in a minute," he said tightly.
She frowned, pulling away from him. "I only did what I thought you wanted."
His eyes snapped to hers. "And what," he said dangerously, "would you know about what I want?"
She drew back, stung. "Fine," she snapped back. "I did what I thought was best since you wouldn't talk or even look at me."
That struck, even if only for a moment. He flinched but then bared his fangs at her, eyes burning. "Don't put this on me. I didn't make you leave, and that is also beside the fucking point. Sango, you didn't even tell us where you went."
"Its never mattered before—"
"You were gone," He growled over her. "None of us could find you, no one could remember you. Kagome cried for days, Sango. We thought we'd never see you again and now I find out you actually fucking died and you act like you'd rather we didn't even know. How is that fucking fair?"
She trembled, looking at him, memories flashing just below the surface that she'd been pushing down. Maybe it wasn't fair. But damn it, she'd been the one that died.
"I made a mistake," she whispered, hating the way her voice shook a little, looking down at her hands which now clenched his shirt with a white knuckled grip. "It won't happen again—"
"Stop fucking lying."
"Damn it, Inuyasha. " She reared back, latching on to fury because otherwise she'd cry. "I am not lying. The difference is that I don't owe you anything, I don't have to tell you everything because its none of your damn business—"
The hurt that flashed in his eyes made her cut off, a lump in her throat, but it was gone from him immediately, replaced by a quiet seething.
"You're wrong," he said fiercely. "You made it my business when you joined with us."
They stared at each other. Finally, she pulled against the hand still in her hair "Let go."
For a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then he did, fingers sliding through the strands, and then she was standing up and looking down at him and she was just so tired.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I never wanted to hurt any of you. But please, Inuyasha, don't misunderstand me. I joined the group for one reason and I won't—I can't—let anything get in the way of achieving that goal. Not even me. If you start to expect more from me, I'll only let you down."
Inuyasha clenched his jaw, saying nothing, so she turned to walk back inside.
"What is it?" he said suddenly, and she paused. When she looked over her shoulder, his eyes glowed in sullen anger. "Your reason. To kill Naraku?"
She looked back at him sadly. Inuyasha and her were alike in so many ways, and yet this was their biggest difference. "To honor my family."
The thing she would carry with her, always. And the thing he had never really had.
She turned quickly away and left him, for once.
Several hours later, curled under a blanket on her futon, Sango was still staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
We have to stop this, she thought. We're only going to hurt each other.
Inuyasha's hurt expression flashed in her mind.
She grimaced, burrowing her face in her elbow, gripping her hair tightly enough she could feel the pull on her scalp.
She didn't remember falling asleep. But her brief dreams—the first in what felt like an age—were awful, impossible nightmares.
—His one hand on her throat, squeezing, as he used the other to tear Kirara's limp body to pieces with a delighted laugh—
Day 80
A little after dawn, she rose and packed her swords and the few things she'd picked up in the village to replace her missing travel pack. Then, after making sure Kirara was secured tightly in a sling against her chest, Sango went in to the inn's main room one last time to thank her caretakers.
The innkeeper and his wife had bowed, said some kind words, and then left the room to give their daughter and Sango some privacy. Sango turned to the young woman who had stood silently and only a little pale behind her parents the entire time, and felt a pang of regret. Life would return to normal again, for the both of them. Their brief time together was over. But it had been sweet.
"Thank you," Sango said sincerely.
Mina met her gaze, chin wobbling, then started to cry.
Heart twisting, Sango reached for the woman's hands but found no words to say. They just stood holding hands until the girl pulled back slightly, sniffling. "This is silly," she said. "You were the one that was injured. Half the time you weren't even awake."
Sango squeezed her hand. "I will never forget what you did for me."
Mina looked up at her, eyes wet and lovely, and Sango thought about how young she looked in that moment. She couldn't be much older than Kagome. "If you come by here again, will you visit?"
Sango nodded. "Of course, if you would have me." When Mina's face scrunched up again, she smiled a little. "Please call for me if you ever get into trouble."
They pulled apart, then bowed to each other. As Sango left, she heard the girl whisper, "Please be safe."
If only such a thing were possible for a taijya.
Inuyasha was waiting for her when she finally exited the building. He was staring moodily at the tree-line. Contrary to his words last night, he hadn't pushed them to leave early. She'd woken early after restless, ugly dreams and had been starting to wonder when he would appear. Now he just looked at her from the corner of his eyes, grunting in acknowledgement, and started walking down the road. She followed. She had a feeling this was going to be the majority of their communication for the foreseeable future. To where ever they were headed.
"Where are we going?" she asked when they had been walking for awhile.
Inuyasha stopped, glancing back at her. For a moment she thought he might just continue on like he hadn't heard, but then he was looking away, ears flicking agitatedly as he ran his hand through his hair—he'd done it yesterday too and it was an odd gesture on him.
"Your village."
Her heart skipped. Then sped up. He must have sensed it because his ears twitched and he turned his full gaze on her. Sango stiffened because under such scrutiny, it always felt like he saw too much. "We went there first," he continued, "after the attack. I left Kagome and Miroku there when I came to find you."
A few heart beats, and then Sango breathed out slowly. Kirara mewled at her softly, liquid brown eyes over the rim of the sling, and Sango put a comforting hand on her little body.
"Okay" she said. "I wanted to go back there anyway. Only…" she lowered her gaze. "That's almost a five day journey."
Which he had made in two days. Two days. Even for a youkai, that would have been…she bit her lip.
"Ten days," he said suddenly. She looked up to find he had taken a step closer to her. "We can make it back by then, if we take it slow."
Despite everything that had happened the last few days, instinct had her balking. "Why? I am perfectly capable of traveling."
His eyes narrowing, he bit out, "I had to help you back to the inn yesterday."
She'd known he would use that against her at some point.
They glared at each other. The words went unsaid: Kirara was in no condition to fly. And— Sango grit her teeth, looking at the ground—her response was silly. What he said made sense. She was still recovering from her injuries. In fact, the most pragmatic thing to do would be to have him carry her the whole way—which she noticed, he hadn't offered.
She blew out a sharp breath. "All right. Fine. Whatever you want." And then she stalked past him, hitting his shoulder a little on her way by. He didn't so much as blink, gaze sharp. She felt it like a knife point on her back as she walked away.
They walked that way, her ahead and him trailing after her, for four hours. Four silent, exhaustive hours, until her legs started to scream, until the straps of Kirara's sling and her pack started to dig into her shoulders. Eventually she stopped and she heard Inuyasha stop behind her.
"Should we stop here or do you want to go further?" she asked, gaze fixed on the horizon. Sun down would be soon, but they could probably travel a bit more, if he wanted.
A moment of silence, then he sighed. "Stop."
Nodding, Sango turned off the side of the road into the dense tress. A few minutes in, she found a spot against the roots of a tree to curl up in and so she dropped her pack and lay down, not bothering to even see if Inuyasha had followed.
Curling around Kirara, she dropped to sleep immediately.
—the creature staring at her, an ugly grin transforming its face. It hauled her bodily to the nearest wall, crushing her injured side against rock, making her screech, vision whitening so that she could barely see its other hand, reaching for the collar of her uniform—
Sango surfaced to find Kirara mewling and Inuyasha shaking her.
She let out a loud cry at the feel of his hands on her, twisting away. Inuyasha immediately let go of her, giving her space as she lay gasping and trembling on the ground. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, mouth open, something like dismay in his eyes.
They stared at each other for a solid second and then she was scrambling toward him.
He fell back under their combined weight as her arms latched around his neck. She felt his own arms come up, trying to hold on to her or maybe push her back a little, but she just scrabbled at him helplessly. She was empty. She could do nothing. Nothing she could do would save her. She was choking on her own spit, trembling, reaching for him, wanting to hide, to crawl inside him—
"—Sango." Over the roar in her head, she heard him calling her. She stopped, trembling. A rising feeling in her. Her name. That was her. But she didn't feel like herself, not at all…
She stopped moving, pressing her face into his chest. The warmth of him anchored her as her emotions roiled and writhed, the ground moving, the stars spinning in wild abandon above. She gripped him tightly, afraid she would fall away if she didn't.
"Don't leave," she whispered, trembling. "Don't leave me here."
Her words hung, heavy and pathetic in the darkness. And then his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She felt the warm heat of his mouth against her temple as he breathed. And then she heard a gentle mew—Kirara—the cat's head rubbing against her arm, then pushing her body to curl in the gap between their chests. The fire of Kirara's little body warmed her, another anchor.
Inuyasha, mercifully, didn't say anything to her plea. But he didn't leave.
Day 81
Neither of them brought up the night before.
She woke to find his haori draped over her shoulders, the warmth and the scent of him nearly lulling her back to sleep. She handed it back to him silently as she put together her belongings, and he merely grunted, slipping it back on.
Another day, walking herself into utter exhaustion as he followed after her obediently. They made good progress, at least. She could be proud of that.
This time, after they'd camped, she woke slightly to feel him wiping wetness—tears—from her face. She must have dozed off to sleep next to Kirara, the both of them curled as close to the fire as they could get. She grabbed his hand instinctually, feeling him stiffen, and then blinked through wet lashes up at him. The firelight illuminated a cascade of emotions on his face, but one dominated above the others, something wholly new to her—insecurity.
Something sparked warm in her cold chest. A feeling to draw away the last cob webs of her nightmares, to let her see him clearly in the moment, unfettered by her usual expectations and his careful mask.
It felt impossible now to reconcile this person with the Inuyasha she had viewed as her enemy, so long ago. He was neither the slayer of her village, nor a demon driven purely by self interest. Now, Sango wondered how she could have ever thought of Inuyasha as being unfeeling or unkind.
"Thank you," she said, and then, feeling like the word was inadequate, pressed his hand to her face, her wet cheek against his palm. She watched him swallow, eyes widening.
After a moment, she felt his thumb trace the lines of her tears, then the fading bruises on her cheeks.
"Go to sleep," he said. Then, "I'll keep watch."
She hummed, closing her eyes and was asleep before she'd even let go of his hand.
Day 82
She woke feeling wild, irrational, and furious.
Sango didn't speak a word as they rose before dawn, mechanically shoving food into her mouth and packing her bags. When Kirara slunk over to Inuyasha as they were about to leave, the both of them eying her with their ears flat against their head, Sango merely clenched her jaw and started walking.
That morning they entered farming country, passing fields and fields of rice paddies, the workers little black dots scattered in the distance. It would be flat lands now until they hit the mountains, and an ordinary pace put it at about two days to cross. But when they hit the little village near the half way point at noon, Sango pressed on and she heard Inuyasha only hesitate a moment before following after her.
Her body turned into one long fiery ache, entirely drenched in sweat as they walked down the wide road. By early evening, they hit the forest edge of the other side.
And still, Sango soldiered on in silence.
"Hey," Inuyasha said, an hour after sun down. "Do you plan on even stopping?"
Sango ignored him, wiping the sweat from her eyes with a trembling arm.
"Hey." She felt him jerk her elbow, forcing her to a stop. Her eyes flashed up to find Inuyasha staring down at her, expressionless.
She wanted to shout at him that she had done more than this, that she was fully capable of walking the entire way there tonight if she wanted to, but the effort to even form sound from her mouth was too much. She was breathing hard, sweating, her limbs heavy, and literally everything was working against her right now.
She jerked her arm out of his grip mutinously and kept walking.
She made it another kilometer or so before with out warning, her right leg buckled and she dropped to a knee in the dirt. She had barely enough strength to catch herself with her hand, but her pack clanked heavily to the ground beside her and she blinked furiously, slamming a fist into her uncooperative leg in frustration.
She felt Inuyasha behind her, already reaching for her pack. "We're stopping."
"No," she snapped, voice raw, and in the back of her head, she realized it was the first time she'd spoken all day.
He turned to look at her severely. "Yes. We are. You are this close to injuring yourself again."
She hit her fist on her leg again and looked up at him, furious. "Why do you care?"
His lips pressed into a thin line. And then without warning, she felt him grip the back of her uniform and the world tilted.
She felt herself airborne for a panicked second. She scrambled at nothing as her world tipped upside down, and then her body impacted the bone of his shoulder and she wheezed, the wind knocked right out of her. Two bands of steel enclosed over her waist and the back of her legs. Then the sky started to move, except she realized it wasn't the sky it was the ground, she was facing the ground because Inuyasha had…he had…
He had thrown her over his shoulder like a god damn sack.
She went for the sword at his belt, but he jerked it out of her reach, the arm on her waist tightening enough that she could feel the pressure on her lungs.
"Stop that," he growled, the vibration of his voice shooting to the top of her skull, making her dizzy.
"Put me down," she snapped back. She jerked forcefully in his grasp, but it did nothing. She pulled his hair hard, but he ignored that. She pummeled his shoulders, which he ignored.
Then she started shouting at him. Because how dare he. How dare he, and Naraku, and the jewel shards, and her stupid, broken body, the distance they had to travel, the dim moon, the god damn trees pulling her hair, Kirara's concerned mewls—how dare the whole fucking world get in her way—and her voice gave out, because of course it would and then she could only shout in whispers into his back, the rage a writhing feeling in her gut.
Then, out of nowhere, her anger gave way to tears. And she said nothing at all, digging her fingers into the back of his haori as she fought to hold back the desperate clawing thing in her chest, to not let a sound escape her lips.
He brought them to a small cave, heavy with the smell of metal and stagnant water. She flinched at the sound of her pack being thrown loudly against a wall, tensing against an expected fall.
But instead of being dropped, her world slid backwards as he slowly pulled her off his shoulder her and down his chest. She didn't resist as her feet touched the ground, one of his hands now circling her wrist.
She didn't protest when he took a few steps back, pulling her with him. She didn't resist when he sat back against the wall and tugged her down next to him before letting her go. She didn't say anything as they sat together on the floor, not touching save for their knees brushing each other occasionally as she stared at the ground and he looked up blankly at the ceiling.
She did nothing at all for a long time.
Then she wrapped her arms around her legs and cried.
Day 83
Dawn was filled with chilly, unflattering reflections.
Sango stared into the glossy surface of the river, unseeing even as she stood in the middle of it and mechanically washed her hair.
They'd fallen asleep in that position, last night. At some point in the night, he had leaned back against the wall and she had leaned a head on his shoulder, and she'd woken to find a peaceful expression on his face.
And it had scared her. Despite the painful protest of her body from its exertions the day before, she'd quietly slipped from his grip and gathered a few bathing things from her bag with shaking fingers. Then she had stumbled around until she found what she was looking for: the river that she knew roughly followed in parallel the road they travelled.
Now she just stood there in a drenched yukata letting the water lap at her hips and feeling a cold knot in her lungs winding tighter and tighter in her chest.
She admitted it to herself, finally, into the dark line of trees and the bleak sky above: she was not okay.
She had seen this before; many taijya who had survived from brutal encounters struggled to come to terms with what happened for weeks, even months in the aftermath. She had only ever felt compassion for their struggles and fears.
But—Sango grit her teeth, fighting back tears—it was different when it was her. It wasn't fair. She punched the water with her fist, feeling it flow away untouched. No matter how she punched it, it made little difference.
There was no taijya medic to comfort her, to walk her through the steps. No father to hold her hand and tell her she was strong. She had only Inuyasha, who on the one hand did not deserve to carry this burden especially in light of the awful things she had said to him, but on the other hand, if she were honest, she also didn't want him to see at all.
"Hey."
Sango blinked, looking up to find the hanyou standing at the river edge as if conjured by her thoughts. He was staring warily at her like she was a wild animal that might bolt at the slightest movement. And with that thought came the feeling of her bare skin prickling beneath the soaked yukata that clung to her curves, the pruning of her fingers, her wet hair clinging to her clothes and body.
Sango had a thought to cover herself, but compared to the scope of the other things she was dealing with, it felt so unimportant. She let the thought sail down the river, like so many others had before it.
She looked at him from under dripping bangs. "What." It came out low and hoarse from all her yelling yesterday, barely heard above the noise of the river.
Inuyasha's eyes bored into hers. Then he extended a hand towards her, claws gleaming in the faint dawn light. "I think you should get out now."
Her lips pulled down. "I'm washing my hair."
He shook his head slowly. "You have been standing still for a long time."
She stared at him, then down at her hands, which bobbed underneath the river surface. Then, lips flattening, she turned and abruptly moved towards the river edge, stumbling a little at the numbness she felt in her limbs. She ignored his hand and she felt him drop it and turn to watch her as she walked to the few items she'd laid near the rocks and stared down at them.
She hadn't used her bathing supplies. She hadn't even gotten out of her yukata. She felt a cold creeping up her face.
"I'm out," she said. "You can go back now."
She heard him take several steps forward. "I don't think that's a good idea…"
She whirled on him, teeth bared. "I am fine. I just need a moment—"
Her voice died away as he grabbed both her wrists and turned them palm up. Her fists were clenched bloodless, save for where the nails dug painfully into the fleshy palm. She blinked, releasing the grip she hadn't been aware of holding, and felt her hands began to sting as blood rushed back into it.
He sighed harshly. She felt him run a callused thumb along the indentions of her skin, which smarted at the touch. She flinched, pulling back.
He looked back at up at her, grimacing, then pulled his hands away. She automatically pulled her own to her chest as he dropped one of his own to the side, his other running through his bangs as he looked away uncomfortably.
They stood not looking at each other before Inuyasha finally said, addressing the river edge, "Sorry. I'm not good at this stuff."
The frustration in his voice made her swallow around a sudden lump in her throat. And she felt suddenly sorry. Sorry for treating him this way when he was only trying to be help her.
"No" she said, face scrunching slightly to keep bay the damn prickling in her eyes as she looked at her feet. She was all over the place again emotionally. "I'm sorry. I'm being unfair to you. One moment I'm telling you to mind your own business, the next I'm practically—" she faltered, "—begging you to hold me…"
He looked at her. "I—"
"It's unforgivable," she continued. "I—"
"Sango," he interrupted, annoyance bleeding into his tone. "I'm trying to tell you I get it."
Sango's eyes widened.
He grunted at her look. "It's not something you just get over, the first time."
"…first time?"
He shrugged. "The time you really almost die."
Sango didn't know what to say. But something in the gruffness of his tone told her he was speaking from personal experience.
"I'm sorry," she whispered eventually.
He sighed, sounding tired. "So you've said. It's fucking weird, coming from you."
Somehow it was…comforting.
An hour later, she was slinging her pack over her shoulder when she found him looking at her from his sitting position on the grass.
She waited him out. It didn't take long. He rolled to his feet gracefully and walked over to her, looking down at her from beneath his bangs. She could tell nothing of what he was thinking.
"I won't ask you to stop leaving," he said. "But next time, can you at least tell us when you will?"
She nodded slowly. "Okay."
He grunted, then he was turning away.
"Wait," she said. He halted, looking over his shoulder at her. Under his amber scrutiny, she looked down a little, suddenly timid.
"I never said thank you," she said softly. "For coming for me." She looked up, fists clenched in her dress. "So thank you."
He didn't say anything, at first. Then a tensing of his jaw as he looked up at the sky. She couldn't tell if he looked angry or just resigned. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I?"