He approached her after dinner. Sango sat a distance off from the others, swiping at Hiraikotsu with a worn polishing cloth she produced from her bag.
"Ah – Sango?"
She did not even look up from her polishing of Hiraikotsu. "Houshi-sama. I have already forgotten it."
Her brusque, end-of-discussion tone did nothing to dissuade him, as she had hoped; Miroku smiled and sat down – a calculated distance from her.
"I am truly sorry for making you carry all the supplies. It must have been hard on you."
Sango shifted a little, thoroughly discomfited by the formal, stilted conversation he was persistent on continuing. "It was nothing. I'm used to much more; back at my village – " The slayer caught herself. "I used to, a long time ago."
He said nothing as she scrubbed furiously at an invisible spot on the bone.
"You take good care of your weapon," Miroku offered eventually, and Sango was glad for the change of topic. "It's youkai bone?"
"An agglutination; the bones of various youkai, purified of their hatred." She set it aside and getting to her feet, slung it casually over one shoulder. "It can cut through many things, like flesh, wood and some stone."
The monk nodded. "I've heard of the formidable weapons of the slayers." He fingered the smooth, worn surface. "May I?"
Sango briefly considered it – and passed it to him one-handed, a small smile playing on her face. "Sure."
Miroku took hold of the leather grip and gasped; he would have dropped the Hiraikotsu if the slayer had not took it back from him.
"It's so – heavy," he said in surprise. "Yet you make it look so effortless." The monk's eyes widened as another thought struck him. "And you throw this thing around?"
She shrugged. "I've been training with it for years." Walking away, Sango threw a last parting shot over her shoulder: "Like I said, Houshi-sama, I'm used to much more." This time, she did not dwell on the ruins of her former life as she said it; happy memories of her childhood occupied her thoughts.
Miroku watched her walk away, back towards the campfire and lay Hiraikotsu down; Kagome took advantage of her return to engage the slayer in animated chatter which had Inuyasha stalking away, ears flattened to his head.
"Keh," he grumbled, scaling the tree the monk was leaning against. "Noisy wenches."
Miroku chuckled. "Admit it, my friend; you don't really mind. Kagome-sama's never been happier now she has a female friend to talk to." He glanced up at the hanyou. "I, for one, would be overjoyed. You aren't much for conversation."
"Jealous? Go join them."
He turned his gaze over to the girls; Sango was smiling, almost laughing, at something Kagome had said. "No – I think I'm fine."
