Chapter 17: Day 89
Sango slid open the door with a resounding echo, squinting into the darkened room. The old practice room was cold and grey, clouds of dust kicking up and catching in the thin lights coming from the wooden slatted windows. Her eyes lingered on the threadbare mats in the corners, folded neatly and untouched, before she strode in, water dripping and puddling on the floors after her. Her father would have thrown her on her head for damaging the wood, except preserving the room for ghosts wasn't very practical anymore.
"In here," she called over her shoulder, heading towards a line of dusty cabinets on the far wall.
Kagome, shivering and rubbing her arms for warmth, followed after her from the hallway. Her eyes were still swollen, but otherwise she had calmed down. "Where is this?" She asked, her voice cracking and a little shy. "I haven't been over here before."
Sango wrenched open the wooden doors of one of the cabinets. A mistake. She pulled back, covering her nose with an arm as a wave of dust plumed into the room. Kagome immediately sneezed, backing away.
"Sorry," Sango said, squinting into the contents of the box as the dust settled. "Stay back a bit, it's only going to get worse over here." When Kagome nodded, covering her face with her hands, Sango reached a hand in the box and began to unroll several white and black bundles of fabric.
"This is a practice hall," Sango continued once she could speak without choking on dust. She inspected the first bundle, a simple white kimono—too big—and then put it back in the box. And the very first building within the village perimeter, she added silently. If seeing this empty room had been difficult, she couldn't imagine how she'd feel walking through the village again. "Mostly used for hand-to-hand combat practice. We kept several spare practice clothes in here. Unfortunately its mostly men's sizes."
There was a pause as Sango set aside the second bundle—a black hakama, mostly grey from the dust—and reached for a third. "That looks like what Kaede wears…" Kagome said, with a sliver of nervousness that made Sango blink and look up. The girl was scrutinizing her shoes.
"I suppose you can wear the kimono by itself, but it's short and it won't warm you up much…." Sango said, pulling out the smallest white shirt she could find and settling it in her lap. "…Is there something wrong with wearing men's clothes?"
Kagome bit her lip, drawing a circle in the dirt. "Not exactly. It's just….well, it doesn't matter. It's fine." She stepped forward, holding her hand out. "Better than these wet clothes right now."
Sango didn't move, slowly raising her eyebrow. Kagome fidgeted a little, and mumbled, "I try not to wear this era's clothes, that's all…"
Sango cocked her head. She'd always wondered about that, actually. Kagome's clothes always drew stares. There were many occasions where blending into the town would have made more sense. After a moment, she handed both the white bundle in her lap and the black bundle at her feet to Kagome, who took it. "Why's that?" She asked, reaching for another clothing set and closing the cabinet door with a creak.
Kagome turned away, walking to one of the windows, fingers moving to the hem of her shirt. "Well, part of it is to remind me of home."
Sango nodded, standing. She slid off the coral armor plates on her elbows and shoulders before moving to the button of her suit. "And the other part?"
Kagome sighed. "A stupid reason, I guess. Don't worry about it." Then she pulled the shirt over her head.
Sango looked back at Kagome, mouth opening in a frown, only to stop short. The girl's back was to her as she pulled her shirt over head, and though it was only for a moment, it was long enough for Sango to see several dark, mouth-shaped bruises trailing down Kagome's neck before her hair fell back down to cover it.
Sango quickly turned away, facing the closed cabinet. Her hand went to her own throat as she stared at the wall, blinking. "I…see."
There was more rustling of cloth behind her, then the unraveling of fabric. "At least its not red…" Kagome muttered to herself, clearly not something Sango was supposed to hear, before raising her voice, "Should I lay my wet clothes by the window?" Seemed like the previous conversation was over.
"…We can lay them on the porch, in the sun," Sango replied, then sighed and dropped her hand. She unclasped the button on the front of her suit and the wet material peeled away, revealing damp, bruised skin. She peeled it down her shoulders, and began to pull it off her arms, struggling a little with how it clung to her skin.
"Oh boy, I'm not sure I know how to wear this," came a muffled voice, presumably Kagome swallowed up in the fabric of the overlarge shirt. There was a rustle and pop, then Kagome's sigh at regular volume. "Also, I'll bet that suit is going to be hard to get off. Do you need any…" Kagome trailed off.
A quiet gasp.
Sango jerked a glance over her shoulder, half afraid of what she'd see. Kagome was standing with the kimono falling nearly to her ankles, staring at her. But her eyes were not locked on Sango's face or Sango's neck, but on Sango's arm. Or rather, her entire left side, which in the pale light from the window revealed a landscape of jagged mottled yellow. Her newest scar gleamed an angry red ring on her arm.
Kagome covered her mouth with an overlarge sleeve, eyes tearing up. "What happened?" she whispered.
Sango paused only for a moment, before resuming stripping the suit over her hips. Her wet hair clung uncomfortably to her back as she avoided Kagome's gaze.
"Later. It'll be easier to tell everyone all at once."
Miroku stared her square in the eyes, lips turned down. "This is not good."
They were still outside the practice dojo. Sango sat on the porch facing the broken portion of the fence, Kagome next to her with Shippou in her lap, and Miroku standing in front of them. She'd haltingly relayed the same information to the group as she had Inuyasha a week ago. Inuyasha, for his part, was oddly silent with his back to them, staring stonily at the trees. He'd been that way ever since the two girls had exited the main practice hall, and while Sango might not have noticed otherwise, she did notice the way Kagome stiffened at the sight of him and looked away.
Sango looked down at her hands. "I know."
"The jewel, it…" Miroku sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I've never heard of the jewel being used for good purposes."
"She's used it before," Kagome piped up quietly, running her fingers through Shippou's hair. The kitsune had fallen asleep, his face a little swollen from crying. "When we first fought. It gave her strength, numbed her pain."
But Sango shook her head. "And I probably would have bled to death without even realizing it. No, Miroku's right. Nothing good has ever come from the jewel. That is why we were forced to give it the guardianship of the priestess, so long ago." She flexed her hands, staring. "It makes me uneasy."
Silence descended on the group. Inuyasha shifted, casting his dark golden glance back at her.
"You shouldn't go off on your own for awhile," the hanyou said, and even though a part of her instantly balked, the other part of her was already resigned.
"Probably," she said, and then added humorlessly, "I'm not exactly in fighting shape anyway." Not with Hiraikotsu gone.
"But at least you are safe now," Kagome whispered, reaching to touch the back of her hand. "I'm so glad that you were able to return to us, even if it was because of the jewel."
Sango smiled back at her as gentle as she could, but in her heart, she felt only dread.
She had returned…but at what price?
They were safe now…but for how long?
Miroku sighed, squinting up at the sky. It was high noon now, a cool wind winding its way through the buildings. "Let's set this aside right now until everyone's rested. I'll take a look at the maps. We can discuss more in the morning."
Sango nodded and then Miroku was turning away, walking up the dirt path that branched towards the largest home of the village, near the top of the hill. The chieftain's home. It made the most sense that they would bunker there, given it had taken very little damage during the attack.
Sango didn't follow. Kagome also didn't seem too eager to move from where they sat, staring with a troubled expression at Shippou's hair.
Inuyasha got up but instead of moving towards the interior of the village, he headed the other way, towards the defensive wall. He stopped very briefly in front of the girls. Sango looked up to see him eying Kagome, who hadn't noticed him. The look in his face was… she didn't know what it was.
"You didn't bring spare clothes with you?" Inuyasha finally muttered, so quiet she almost didn't hear it.
Kagome jerked her head up, face flushing, and then her eyes narrowed.
"No. I didn't," she said shortly. "I was kinda in a hurry, if you remember." Inuyasha just snorted and turned away. With a single leap he bounded right onto the nearest of the wooden fence pikes. He looked back, eyes locking with Sango's very briefly, and then went over and was gone.
There was an awkward moment where Sango turned to stare at her companion and Kagome avoided her gaze, scowling.
"…What was that?" Sango eventually asked, hesitating.
"…The other stupid reason," Kagome grumbled, and then she burrowed her head into Shippou's hair and sighed.
Inuyasha approached her in the back of the house, when the others had gone to bed. Stepped into her space, a hand brushing the hair behind her ear ever so gently, the barest touch of his nose against her jaw without ever really looking her in the eye.
Sango hadn't really looked at him either. Too numb to want anything more than to replace it with feeling. So she'd sunk her fingers into his hair and curled her tongue around his canines and felt his responding growl fill her bones.
It was too brief. She'd had to leave him in the dark, her mouth cold, his eyes a brand on her back. There had also been the tiniest bit of something she hadn't felt before, an odd taste in her mouth as she closed the screen of the room she shared with Kagome.
She'd stared at the profile of Kagome's back for a long time before finally looking away.
Day 90
Two pairs of footsteps stormed down the hall way, coming closer.
"—don't you even think at all before you do things? You are such a nuisance—"
Sango paused in the act of pushing a needle through fabric, looking to the doorway. Kirara made a huff next to her, her tail waving irritatedly.
"No one asked you!" Kagome shouted as she stormed in the room, wearing a little white mask and a murderous expression on her face. The effect was ruined by a sneeze that made her stumble as she made her way to her bag.
Inuyasha barged in after her. "Why don't you ever—"
He cut off as he finally noticed Sango sitting at the window sill. A cup of tea steamed beside her. She was covered in faint pink dust, chips of coral scattered on the floor. A stack of leather hides, some blood stained and tattered, sat in a pile at her feet.
He eyed her. "What are you doing?"
Sango held up a scrap of what had once been the Taijya suit. The silver bone needle gleamed from the light coming in through the window. "Repairs," she said, pulling the needle through the hide.
Inuyasha's eyebrows lowered. He opened his mouth but whatever he was about to say was completely drowned out by the sound of Kagome blowing her nose. His ears flattened and he turned a sneer back to the girl, who'd taken off her mask to replace it with a handful of tissues.
"Wake the dead, why don't you—"
"Oh shut up," came Kagome's muffled voice through the tissue. She blew her nose again, the sound incredibly loud in the otherwise quiet room, making Inuyasha's lip curl in disgust. Then she stood up, nose red and glaring. "Now get out."
"Why the fuck do I have to?" He sneered. "You don't own this—"
Kagome planted her hands on his back and pushed him towards the door. "Out!"
"You—why the hell are you touching me, you're still—"
"—if you had just listened to me—"
"Why do I have to listen to-"
"I need to change, moron!" Kagome shouted and then with a shove, Inuyasha fell out of the room. He was getting to his feet, still spluttering when Kagome slammed the screen with a ominous crack. "No go away."
Eventually, Inuyasha did, but not without a few choice words that had Kagome open the door so she could lob her hair dryer at him.
Eventually, Kagome stood in the middle of the room, staring at her hands. She'd completely forgotten Sango was even there. Her lip trembled.
"All day. All day, he won't leave me alone. It's this thing, I know it is," Kagome hissed suddenly, hands trembling as she fumbled with the training hakama and kimono shirt she was still wearing from yesterday. "I'm not wearing this another second." She pulled the shirt over her shoulder and threw it in the corner with an aggravated noise.
Sango paused in her needle work. "Kagome…"
The girl looked up at her almost confused, nose a bright red, and the flushed horribly. She rushed over to the corner, picking up the shirt and brushing it off. "I'm sorry Sango," Kagome whispered, mortified. "That was completely disrespectful to you and your village. I don't know what came over me…"
"No, that's not what I meant." Sango put down her taijya suit and stood up, holding out a hand. The girl padded over to her miserably, handing her the garment.
Sango folded it and set it by pile of leathers, then she pointed to the window ledge. "Sit."
When the girl did so, Sango picked up the blanket she had been using and wrapped it around the smaller girls shoulders. The girl sniffed.
"I don't understand," she whispered, eyelashes wet. "He doesn't do this to you. Just me."
Sango's lips turned downward, but she didn't say anything.
Kagome didn't seem to care. The girl just wiped angrily at her face with the blanket. "He's such an idiot. Why do I even bother."
And yet here she was, still crying over him.
Sango handed her the cup of warm tea and then seated herself back down.
They sat in the warm sunlight not saying anything. Kirara returned to her nap, tail curled around Kagome's ankle. Kagome sniffled for awhile, until eventually she leaned back against the window sill and dozed off. Sango watched the birds making nests in the tree outside the window.
In doing so her eyes caught, as they always did, on the little things that had changed. A clothesline where the practice range used to be. Through one of the open shoji screen doors, a bright yellow pack lying half opened in the formal living room, books and objects strewn about. Several packages of produce sitting unattended on the porch. Her father would have had a fit about that one…
She returned to her needle work.
The shoji screen slid open quietly. Sango looked up from the center room floor, where she'd moved to file down coral shavings into a dye paste. Miroku stood in the door way, a peculiar expression on his face as he stared at the window. She followed his gaze.
Kagome lay curled up against the window sill, her socks peeking out from underneath the blanket. Her hair was a mess, her nose red, her eyes slightly swollen. Yet even sick, there was an undeniable dainty, girlish charm to her. In the way her delicate wrists curled under her chin, in the way she could sleep so unguarded at all. A fragileness that was so out of place in this world of demons and war.
When Sango looked back at Miroku, there was nothing in his face but a careful mask. He looked at the ceiling for a moment, then he glanced at Sango. She set her materials down and put a finger to her lips. He nodded, then motioned his head outside.
She followed him out of the room, into the main hall where he paused only a moment to collect a bundle of parchments wrapped in cloth, and then proceeded out into the courtyard. It was later in the afternoon, with long shadows cast by the rooftops.
She settled on a rock and watched as Miroku spread out parchments, a small ink pot, and a brush on a flat rock and get to work updating their maps. He sketched out landmasses and added notes in a beautiful penmanship. It was soothing, if slightly embarrassing, to watch him in what was clearly his element.
"What's wrong with them?" Sango asked lightly, swinging her legs. She didn't have to specify.
"There is always something wrong with them," he said as he added some detail to a mountain range. That didn't look strictly necessary for the map—she wondered if he liked to draw "Ever since I've known them."
Sango nodded. "This doesn't seem normal though. If anything, I thought maybe Kagome might be mad at me, not Inuyasha. For putting you all through such…" she trailed off, looking down.
Miroku glanced at her. "Kagome's not like that." His brush wavered a little over a page. Then he added a tree. It was a remarkable likeness, considering how little brush strokes he used. "None of what happened was your fault."
Sango stared at the ground. Miroku's brush strokes resumed. There was some rustling in the brush nearby, probably a lizard or a field mouse. The wind tugged at her green skirt a little and Sango lifted her legs to wrap her arms around them.
"You know…" Miroku said suddenly. Sango looked up to see him staring at his little drawn tree. "There was this one time, back when I'd only known them for a short while. Kagome'd gotten injured pretty bad. Inuyasha, he…sent her back to her time. Told her to never return. She did, eventually, but…he wasn't glad to see her. He didn't want her to come back. "
Sango cocked her head. "Even now?"
"I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair. "…I used to think I should just let them figure it out on their own. Try not to take sides. But you saw them, how they get. That's not the worst of it, either. And the longer it goes on, the harder it is to not get involved…"
At that last part, his lips twisting in a humorless smile. She remembered the bruises like kisses on Kagome's neck, and then the night, so long ago, when she and Inuyasha had witnessed a tender moment between the pair. Miroku probably didn't even remember it, but she bet Kagome did.
She wondered how Kagome felt. Inuyasha had been the first one she met, after all. The first to have saved her. Was it so easy to let such an attachment go, even if the other person was pushing you away? Even if you knew you were hurting someone else in the process?
"I'm sorry," she said, perhaps with a trace of too much knowing. He snapped a look at her, eyes narrowing a little, but when she did little more than pluck at a loose thread in her shirt, he sighed and looked away.
"For what it's worth," she continued. "You've done more than you realize. You stabilize them both. They would be lost without you."
"I like to think so," he said, running a finger over the lines of his tree, of his mountain range. "It's just…very tiring."
There wasn't much Sango could say to that. Rolling to her feet she walked over to stand next to him and stared down at his map. It was covered in black ink, with areas marked off of where they had gone and fresh notes added in the margins. He would need to make another one soon.
"You are very good at this," she said quietly, saw him smile a little. "You should have been a scholar. Or perhaps a war lord's strategist. Did you ever consider it?"
There was a short pause as he stared with perhaps a tad of wistfulness at the parchment. Then he shook his head gently. "No. The brush, unfortunately, does not slay demons who have cursed your family line to die at an early age." He looked up at her then, smiling wryly. "But the life of a monk is not so bad. You get to meet all kinds of lovely ladies." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
It was a clear bait and switch and they both knew it, but she took pity on him and rolled her eyes. "How about less ladies and more shards, most honorable monk." she told him, pointing to some of the territories they'd yet to cover. "We will get that bastard, the more permanent way."
"The less fun way, you mean," Miroku corrected, and smiled at the glare she shot him.
Day 91
Every time she brushed against him, she saw his eyes flicker. Every time he walked towards her, her heart started to pound.
But he didn't kiss her again. And she didn't go to him. Just heavy stares and weighted silences.
Day 92
It was her home. But it was not her home.
The path she walked on now was like all the others. Piles of debris, some combination of charred wood and straw and the occasional rope, sat in neat piles near the house with missing chunks or caved roofs. There were no mats to cover the doors for privacy. No live stock in the stables. Every window framing an empty, dark room. And the dark, black marks in the dirt, furrows in the shape of claws.
She couldn't deal with it today. Not today. A particularly strong nightmare had driven her gasping awake in the predawn hours and she'd sat in torturous silence at the window and watched as the sun crested the piked gates and cast faint tendrils of light on a desolate ghost village.
So instead she'd left the main house, climbing higher and higher until eventually the empty houses gave way and there was only one, sitting at the uppermost part of the village. She approached it, biting her lip.
The building, what had once been the village forge, was largely untouched save for a slight charring of the thatched roof at the top. Perhaps the most minimally damaged building in all the village, likely attributed to its location. From here she could hear the tinkling of water dripping down the rocks. When the village had been first formed, the founders had diverted part of the river from higher up the mountain for use here. In the past, the building had always radiated heat and light even from far away. Now it was cold and quiet.
Sango studied it before approaching the large wooden doors. It took effort for her to wrench one open even a little, the drag of the wood a loud echo in the silence. She slid through the gap the doors made.
Inside, the room was dark but familiar. Large barrels along the wall were stuffed with several old pole weapons, their polished scythe heads gleaming white in the faint light. Youkai skeletons covered every table surface and wall hook, organized by size and material type. The large stone fire place was dark, the fire tongs and pliers laying neatly on the slab of metal used for repair work, as if ready for another days use. Like the practice hall and the other houses, most everything was coated in a thick layer of dust. Sango swallowed, a lump in her throat.
But there was a section of the floor that showed fresh foot prints and large sweeping streaks, as if something had been dragged in here recently. Sango followed the trail to a corner of the workshop where an unfamiliar stack of objects wrapped in canvas and tied with coarse rope had been reverently laid out near the fire place.
Her breath caught in her throat. She made her way over quickly and kneeled down, running a hand over the canvas. The hard surface underneath was unmistakable. She would have recognized it anywhere.
As if on cue, there was the drag of the door opening a little more behind her, then barely perceptible footsteps. She didn't look at who had entered the forge, merely reached for one of the smallest packages and began to untie it in her lap.
"We brought the pieces back," Inuyasha said, voice low as Sango unveiled a large chunk of Hiraikotsu, one of the edge pieces of the boomerang. It's smoothed curve was cut off by jagged and porous edges where the demon had broken the bone in half.
She gripped the edges in a white knuckled grip, blinking, almost overcome with the simultaneous surge of both sorrow and joy within her. She'd thought she'd lost Hiraikotsu forever. Eventually she looked back over her shoulder at Inuyasha, who was standing there stiffly with his arms crossed, staring at the dark forge.
"In the off chance you could repair it," he said, shrugging.
"Why did no one tell me?" Sango asked, feeling her voice waver.
He paused, and with what was almost an apologetic tone, "I forgot about it, honestly. Maybe the others did too. It's been several weeks since we brought it up here."
She laid the piece of bone down gently and stood up. She didn't know what to do with her hands, so she dusted off her green skirt to give herself a moment to focus on something, and then walked over to him. His looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"I will," she said, swallowing. "Repair it, that is. Thank you."
He grunted, finally turning to face her. They stared at each other, sizing the other up.
He didn't seem as angry as he'd been the last few days, but there was still something off about him. In the way his shoulders were stiff and hunched over, the way his ears twitched a little erratically on his head. As she stared at him, he cracked the knuckles of his right hand reflexively, claws gleaming in the dark. Soon enough his restlessness started to seep into her too, making the hair on her arms stand on end. His expression was carefully blank but there was also something in his eyes that made Sango pause.
He wasn't—this wasn't like the other nights. He looked more like he wanted to fight something or punch a couple trees rather than be here. But he had also still come to find her.
She wondered when that had happened. Maybe he could sense the same desire to just do something in her too.
"…where have you been?" she asked. No one had seen him all morning.
His ears flattened against his head. "Does it matter? Why did you come up here?"
She looked down at her fist, flexing it. "Miroku heard some rumors about a demon terrorizing a nearby village and I was thinking of investigating. Came up here to gather a few things. See what was still here." She waved at the wall racks.
Inuyasha looked around, taking in the large serrated blade that could rival Tetsusaiga's on a wall peg near the fire place. "Seems untouched."
"Yes." She barked a humorless laugh. "Tells you that no one was prepared for the demon attack, if most of them of them hadn't had time to arm—" she caught herself, sighing.
Inuyasha cocked his head, arms falling to his sides. He didn't say anything and she immediately regretted having spoken at all. She wasn't going to let herself go down this path, sitting here agonizing over things she couldn't change. She wanted to act, not to think.
"Never mind." She straightened her shoulders, rolling her head. Her neck cracked and she hissed out a breath. When she looked at him, he looked taken aback by the brightness in her eyes. "So….interested in a little demon hunt?
Day 93
Miroku stared at the large weapon Sango had propped on her shoulder with trepidation. "You can use that?"
Sango blinked and held up the sasumata. It was a wooden pole with a pronged fork of youkai bone, the length of it coming up to her shoulder. It was actually short compared to a traditional sasumata. There was also a heavy metal ball on the other end of the rod, wrapped tightly with a leather strap, that made a clinking sound as Sango rested the staff on the ground.
It had been awhile since she'd used such a weapon. And with her taijya suit still in repairs, she'd have to re-adjust her movements to accommodate the loose hakama and long sleeved kimono of the training garb. But still, nothing too unmanageable. She shrugged. "It's heavy, but compared to the weight of Hiraikotsu, it's nothing."
Miroku eyed the shiny two pronged head. "That's…not exactly what I meant...Sango, how many weapons do you know how to wield, exactly?"
An odd question to ask a Taijya. Sango opened her mouth to reply but they were both distracted as Inuyasha exited the building, followed by a bundled up, bleary eyed Kagome, who was still too sick to travel. Shippou was balanced on the hanyou's shoulder, harassing him as per usual.
"—should make sure you don't do anything mean to Sango—" Shippou was saying.
"Just stay here and out of my hair," the hanyou snapped, grabbing for the kitsune's tail. Shippou dodged in a flurry of claws, climbing up and down Inuyasha's back for a moment before making a leap onto Kagome's shoulder. The girl made a surprised sound, fumbling to catch him and stumbling, hitting her shoulder against a wooden column of the porch. Miroku stepped forward, a frown on his face. "Shippou—" he began.
"Watch what you're doing runt," Inuyasha growled, leaning over and swiping the kitsune up straight off Kagome's shoulder. He dangled the fox by the back of his shirt and gave him a shake. Sango saw Miroku stop short, falling silent.
Kagome blinked, rubbing her red nose, then made a face. "Inuyasha, don't—"
"Let me go, you big jerk!" the little fox cried, trying to swipe at Inuyasha's arms. Inuyasha snorted, turned around and spied Miroku and Sango standing in the middle of the courtyard. He grinned suddenly. "Hey, monk!"
Then Inuyasha curled his arm back and chucked Shippou like a cannon ball straight at Miroku.
"Wait, Inu—!" The monk dropped his staff and caught Shippou with a loud thunk that, while not knocking him over, did knock the wind clean out of him. Miroku wheezed, stumbling. Sango caught his elbow with wince.
Kirara, who had been lounging on the ground behind Sango, got to her feet and yowled at the hanyou, who's ears immediately flattened.
"He's fine—" Inuyasha started, expression turning disgruntled. Kirara hissed.
From behind him, Kagome stomped her foot. "Inuyasha! You could have hurt him—"
Miroku coughed, rubbing his chest as Shippou popped out from behind the folds of his robe. He seemed dazed, but otherwise unharmed. Shaking her head, Sango leaned down and picked up the monk's staff as Kagome marched towards them, shouting over her shoulder.
"Why did you do that?"
"I told you, he's fine! You do more harm coddling him—"
Kagome whirled around. "You…Osuwari!"
There was a glow of purple beads, a faint, high pitched ringing, and then Inuyasha plummeted like a rock face first into the ground.
Kagome stomped over to Miroku and gathered up Shippou. The positively beatific smile she turned on Sango had both her and the monk lean back a bit. It was hard to believe this was the same girl that had woken up vomiting this morning. "Have a safe trip, Sango," she said, then sniffed. "I'm sorry you have to deal with him." Then she whirled around and stomped right back the way she came, passing the hanyou's prone form. The purple beads still glowed.
Miroku sighed as Sango returned his staff to him. "Have a safe trip. I'll keep an eye on them."
"We should be back within one or two days" she responded.
He nodded then he too walked back to the house. As he passed Inuyasha, he paused and placed his staff squarely on the hanyou's head with a thunk. The hanyou grunted.
Miroku leaned down. "Play nice," he warned. Then, standing up, he walked back into the house, whistling.
Sango approached Inuyasha and then crouched down, staring at his head. She watched the purple beads finally dim and then his ears slowly rose on the top of his head, twitching.
"You should really stay on her good side," Sango commented, propping her chin in her free hand.
At that, Inuyasha wrenched his head up, rubbing his face with his sleeve. The dirt couldn't hide the expression like a thunder cloud on his face. "Yeah? And why—"
"I meant Kirara," Sango interrupted, pointing to her right. Inuyasha looked to see the large cat youkai glaring at him. "You know where we're going is a day's ride out, yes? And who's taking us there?"
Inuyasha locked eyes with Kirara. The cat growled. His ears lowered a little. "I can run," he muttered.
Sango sighed. "How about you save your strength, yeah? Kirara, you can let him ride, right?" She gave the cat a sweet smile. Kirara huffed, turning their back on them.
She turned back to Inuyasha, smirking. "See? Always pays to be nice." And then she held out a hand.
Inuyasha paused, expression clearing. He looked at her hand, then looked at her. There was a long moment where she thought he was going to ignore her, but then he reached up, clawed hand grasping her wrist, and she hauled him up to his feet.
It was only then Inuyasha got a good look at the staff she was holding. He blinked. "What the hell is that?"
Sango rolled her eyes, approaching Kirara. The cat obligingly got to her feet, still not looking at the pair as Sango slid a leg over her back, adjusted the sword at her hip, and then settled the staff over her legs.
"Hurry up," she said. "Before Kirara changes her mind."
Any small trace of amusement she had felt as he glared at her was completely lost when he slid behind her, his arm snaking around her waist. She clenched her fist in Kirara's fur, thoughts flashing to Hiraikotsu, which normally provided a buffer between her and whoever rode with her. As if reading her thoughts, Inuyasha suddenly jerked her back against him, making her jolt as the warmth of him seeped along the entire length of her back.
As Kirara made a leap into the air, Sango made a point to elbow him hard in the ribs, but he didn't even have the grace to budge. She could practically hear his half smile in her ear as they rose in the air and he leaned in, saying lowly, "I did offer to run."
Day 94
"Beneath you!" Inuyasha shouted at the same time as Kirara roared.
Sango dived to her right, feeling the ground beneath where she had just been standing buckle as something burst from the depths in a shower of dirt. She rolled to her feet, turning to face the demon that clawed its way out of the dirt with a deep howl.
White froth speckled damp red fur as the weasel demon turned to her, jaws open and drooling, its eyes a glowing red. Then it looked to the side, and ducked back into the hole as Inuyasha swung Testusaiga at it, missing. Kirara chased after it in a twisting column of dust and fire, barely pulling back in time as the weasel dived back into the earth with a crash. The big cat surged up into the air in a fiery trail, hissing. It was hard to believe this was her first fight since the lavender demon.
Sango got to her feet, brandishing the sasumata and panting. "Thanks," she said, as Inuyasha, cursing, moving to put his back to her. Together, they surveyed the battle field, searching for the tell tale rumble of the weasel demon.
"The monk would have been real useful right about now," Inuyasha growled.
Sango grimaced, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Wind scar would be really useful right now, but she knew he hadn't mastered how to use it at will, not yet. Baring that, his point was well taken.
According to the villagers, this weasel demon had been terrorizing the village for the last week, devastating crops and slaughtering farm animals and humans alike. She'd been taken a back when the village leader hadn't even given Inuyasha or Kirara a second glance, just prostrated himself before her and begged her to help them. Now she knew why. The thing was enormous, its head nearly the wing span of her arms and its body some six meters long. The blood lust in this creature's eyes was matched only by its wicked speed, and without the use of Miroku's barriers, they were having a hard time pinning it down.
For the thousandth time, she wished she had Hiraikotsu in her hands.
"Hey," she called. She felt Inuyasha shift behind her. "I have an idea."
"Now you have an idea," Inuyasha spat as the demon suddenly burst out of a nearby hole. A swing of Testusaiga had it scurrying back into the earth. "Maybe we could have started with—"
"I'm the weakest link here," she interrupted begrudgingly, tightening her grip on the wooden pole. "So I'll distract it. Be ready."
"What? That's a stupid—" The demon burst out from the dirt again, cutting him off, but Sango was already running. Ten steps, then a howl, and the sound of the earth rumbling behind her.
She turned her head over her shoulder to see a blurry white afterimage, a ghost of gnashing teeth and extended claws.
Everything turned to slow motion. Inuyasha calling her name behind her. The pounding of blood in her head. The pain in her lungs as she gasped for breath. And in the back of her mind, the rictus of delight the lavender demon had given her as he crushed her throat in his hands.
Her heart skipped. Then it doubled and sound rushed into her ears.
She brought her pole arm up barely in time to block the weasel's jaws from snapping her in half, the pronged weapon head biting into the soft flesh of its upper mouth. She cursed—she'd been aiming to pin it at the neck. The thing roared, whipping back and wrenching the weapon from her grip. Sango stumbled, hand immediately falling to the sword at her waist as the weasel pulled the rod from its mouth with its clawed hands and threw it across the clearing, eyes a furious crimson.
And then it crashed into the ground as Kirara barreled into it, her large fangs sliding right into the creature's chest and pinning it. There was a shout and then a terrible mortal scream as Sango saw Inuyasha's sword sink with a burst of blood into its body. But it wasn't enough—she saw the weasel demon turn in its dying moments to Kirara who was still in range, its mouth just rows and rose of sharp teeth, and there wasn't enough time.
Sango stepped forward and in a smooth arc drew the white tasseled wakazashi from her hip. With hardly a whisper of sound, as if a natural extension of her arm, the blade whipped through the air and sliced at the neck of the demon, a silent blue arc cutting across space.
With shock, Sango felt the blade shear the head of the creature off its body with no resistance, the head rolling away in a frozen snarl. There was a moment of stunned silence as Sango stared at the stump of the head, and then she leaned sharply away, grimacing, as a geyser of blood shoot from the severed neck, splattering her.
The demon body gave a final shudder, and then it was still. She knew it was over when she saw Kirara let go of the creature, her muzzle shiny with blood, and look at her.
Sango fell to her knees, gasping, barely catching herself with the arm that still held the wakazashi. Her shocked gaze fell to its rippling blue metal surface underneath the black blood of the youkai. A chill chased down her spine at its gleaming edge, so sharp that it could slice even stone with the proper force. That could cut through bone and steel only the way Hiraikotsu could, and with only a portion of the strength. She shifted into a cross legged position, holding the sword face up in front of her, almost afraid to try and re-sheathe it without standing. She pulled a scrap of fabric from her belt and wiped it clean with trembling fingers.
She'd been carrying this around the whole time. She'd thought…but she hadn't known it was…
She was still staring at the sword when Inuyasha dropped suddenly next to her. "You hesitated," he said heatedly. "The demon nearly ate you, and all because of your stupid plan." Then, when she said nothing, his eyes flicked to the blade. "Nice sword. Looks…weird."
Sango sighed, wiping at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her other hand.
"It's a Taijya heirloom," she said, extending it out to him without looking. Inuyasha hesitated before taking it, undoubtedly surprised. One did not give the weapon of their livelihood to just anyone. She ignored that thought and pulled the sheathe from her belt, handing it to him as well.
She watched as Inuyasha stood up, holding the sword aloft. The blue sheen of the metal gleamed white in the sunlight. It was a perfect blend of metal work, forged from the steel feathers of a wyvern, the claws of a great wolf, and the long tooth of a dragon fang…or so the taijya legends said. Sango herself had seen it cut through the impenetrable shells of great tortoise youkai like it was air. In comparison, Hiraikotsu was a crude bludgeoning weapon.
"Is this…special?" There was a trace of begrudging awe in his voice. Even a poor swordsman like him could recognize the craftsmanship of this weapon.
Sango nodded. "Along with the demon whistle, which I used to call Kirara, it represents the mantle of the Taijya's purpose. The one that carries it is responsible for shaping the Taijya's future."
He sheathed it, then handed it to her. "Your father was the chieftain of your village, wasn't he?"
She blinked a little, surprised he would remember such a detail. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, hoping to avoid the awkwardness that would inevitably come when the group realized they had been staying in her childhood home for days, if not weeks. "Yes. I was the chieftain's daughter." She looked away, grimacing, "And the strongest of the village."
"Who gave that to you?"
Ah, Inuyasha. Always getting to the heart of the matter.
Sango stared into the vacant eyes of the dead demon head for a long moment. Eventually she had to look away, mouth twisting as she stood up. When she glanced at Inuyasha he was still staring her down.
"It was left at the inn," she said finally. "Mina says it came from those who saved me."
Inuyasha's fist clenched. "Saved you," he repeated, tone venomous. "He was the only person who could have possessed those things, isn't he? How do you know it isn't a trap?"
Sango laughed humorlessly. "I'm sure it's a trap. But at this point, what can I do? It really did save me." She looked at Kirara, then at him. "If I hadn't used the whistle, you probably would still think I was dead."
Anger flashed across Inuyasha's face, and he crossed his arms. But he didn't say anything, because it was true.
Behind them, Kirara made a noise. She was nosing the body of the weasel demon. Sango cocked her head then made her way over, crouching beside the cat. In the cleft of the neck there was something embedded, dark and shiny. It was curious. The more she looked at it, the more fascinated she became.
She reached for it, digging into the flesh to reach it.
When her finger touched a warm, smooth surface, she felt a pure shock of energy in her skin, not unlike touching an open flame. Startled, she quickly pulled back, feeling the thing dislodge and land softly in the dirt below as she clutched her hand to her chest. She was almost afraid her hand had been burned, but when she inspected it, it was surprisingly unharmed.
Kirara was growling now, the hair on her body standing on end. She looked back at the object, still confused, until she recognized what it was at last. Cold raced up her spine.
"Inuyasha," she said, over the sudden white noise in her ears.
He grunted, turning to her. He was still brooding over their earlier conversation.
"It's a shikon shard," she whispered.
That had him hurrying over, crouching next to her. All three of them stared at the shard in the dust. It was tiny, even as shikon shards went, but pitch black. And now that she knew what it was, she could feel it radiating malice, the air around it swirled a little with shadow.
"Shit," she heard Inuyasha say. "That is corrupt. That would kill a human if they touched it." He looked at her. "You okay?"
She stared down at the shard. "Yeah, somehow," she said. How could she have been so stupid not to sense it? "What shall we do with it?"
Inuyasha cocked his head. "We need to get that to Kagome. But with that level of malevolence—" he grimaced a little, looking away. If it could kill a human, it would certainly corrupt a youkai. "You keep it?"
She nodded slowly, then pulled the same scrap from her belt she'd used to wipe down her blade. She picked the shard up carefully in the scrap, then stowed it away in her belt pouch.
"Can you bring the body?" She said, not looking at anyone. "I can use it for repairs for Hiraikotsu."
Inuyasha's lip curled up. "Disgusting." But he didn't argue, just leaned down to pick up the demon head and held it out to Kirara, who gingerly took it by the scruff with a sniff of disdain. Sango, bangs covering her eyes, moved to go find her sasumata.
The jewel shard's presence burned at her waist, all the way back to the village.