Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha; this is only a fanfic.

Authors Notes: Hi guys! I'm trying something a little different this time. I'm sure you'll tell me if you don't like. The time setting has changed for this story; this chapter is the start of the new beginnings for the characters.

Thanks for the reviews, especially from the readers who continued after they thought I had killed Sango (as if I would). Please read, enjoy and please review!

Volume II

Ko-in ya no gotoshi

(Time flies like an arrow)

Chapter 15: Time

Sengoku Jidai – Seven years after Naraku's demise

For the last three years, I had traveled this road. At the beginning of each season, with the exception of winter, I had made this trip faithfully. My destination was the restored village of demon slayers.

While she was alive, my wife, had expressed a desire to have the home, which was carelessly destroyed by Naraku, rebuilt. After intense planning with her little brother, we obeyed her wishes and took on the project.

Sango would be proud of her brother, just as I was. Kohaku had become a successful leader, teacher and had carried on their family tradition. Due to his gentle nature and the tragedy in his young life, to remain a Taijiya was something my wife was sure he would not do. It was in honor of his sister's memory and his love for her, that he chose this path.

Kikyou had sustained Kohaku's life by allowing him to keep the jewel shard embedded in his back. However, before she left us, she parted with words of warning.

"Live, Kohaku. It is what your sister wanted for you, it is the reason she fought. Show your respect by living… in tribute to her sacrifice."

"Naraku is no longer a threat to you, but others will come in search of your shard, the last remnant of the Shikon no Tama. Maintain and sharpen your skills, you may need them again to protect yourself and the ones you love."

"Sayonara, Kohaku, I will never forget you."

The priestess disappeared after that, no one had heard from her since.

The final battle with Naraku was always fresh in my mind. It was the day I lost the other half of myself, the one person that meant the world to me… my wife, Sango.

I cherished every moment spent with her; the memories forever locked away in my heart. I kept living because of two reasons: I knew Sango would have wanted it and my promise to take care of Kohaku. The years without her, however, were not easy for me.

My life was as empty now as when the 'Kazaana' controlled my existence. The void in my hand was still present and it matched the one in my heart. Until now, I had lived only to fulfill Sango's dream. As I passed through the gates of the reconstructed village, it was apparent I had done that.

The courtyard was alive with activity, filled with children awaiting the presence of their sensei. The last I heard, five more students had been recruited and there were now twelve families living within the fort.

As I approached the main house, many greeted me warmly. I had worked side by side with these people, rebuilding the village, interviewing potential families and recruits and instilling the new laws. I poured every ounce of love for my wife into this project and I had reaped its rewards.

I was proclaimed the official holy man of the village. To most, I was Houshi-dono. To the children, I was the fighting monk or the wind warrior. The latter was granted to me because of the 'Kazaana'.

The villagers had witnessed my power during a raid two years after the rebuilding began. The demons were not responsive to a revised village of slayers. One evening a horde of hostile youkai attacked. Kohaku and I, with the aid of the new recruits, quickly eliminated them.

As with all things, however, it was time to move on. I was no longer needed here. Kohaku was now a man with immeasurable potential and the village was flourishing under his supervision. The young taijiya had found his purpose in life, now… it was time I found mine.

Ten days ago, Mushin was paid a visit from the monk's of a neighboring temple. They came to request he accompany them to the Gekokujo meetings in a distant province. They were looking for an acting advisor during the discussions.

The villagers and other lower classman were rebelling against the daimyo's rule. The people wanted to maintain control of their lands as they had done for more than a century and resented the interference of the nobleman.

Mushin had recently been ill and had yet to make a full recovery, therefore, I decided to go in his place. I would act as counsel and mediator between the daimyo's and villagers. The fellow monks had assured me this was no easy task as both sides were prepared to resort to underhanded means to achieve their goals. Bribes, deception and even murder were possibilities under the new shogunate; monks were no exception.

I accepted the responsibilities, but waived the offer to accompany the monk's traveling north to the next province. I planned to meet them later, as I had an important matter that would delay me. Cautioning me on traveling alone, my fellow monks and I parted ways.

Returning to Mushin's room, I informed my surrogate father of my decision.

"Are you sure you want to do this, son?" the older monk asked with concern. "I'm sure there are other ways to give aid to this cause."

"You're probably right, Mushin-sama," I smiled while preparing a poultice for his heated forehead. "However, it would not be as exciting; now would it?"

"Is that what you are searching for, Miroku… excitement?"

I was silent. That was a question I had asked myself and I had no answer. Is that what I craved? No, it could not be that. I had enough excitement, especially when Inuyasha was around. Was it a challenge I needed or… an escape?

Maybe I needed to get away… away from the temple for an extended period. This was, after all, the place Sango and I finally admitted our love for each other. The waterfall, the grounds and especially the dojo held many short lived, but precious memories for me.

The slayers village was no different. There was the field of lilies that I visited regularly during my stay. Sango and I had shared our first kiss there and I could still see her dancing form as clear now, as if it were yesterday. I could visualize her sparkling eyes and hear her rare laugh as she had twirled with the sunset. However, the scent of the blossoms reminded me most of her… of holder her close…

"I miss her too," Mushin's voice broke through my musings. "I'm sorry, Miroku, I didn't mean to…"

"It's all right," I interrupted his apology; I had not realize I was daydreaming. Plunging the poultice into the cool water, I anticipated the older monk's next question. "Don't worry, Mushin-sama, I will be careful on this journey."

Mushin's chuckling, quickly turned into a coughing spasm. Once under control, I laid him back and placed the compress to his forehead. His eyes were a little glassy from the fever, but he was feeling better and would be back on his feet in about two days. After bidding Mushin farewell, I packed my belongings and asked Hachi to look after him.

As I headed for the slayers village, I contemplated how to inform Kohaku I was leaving for an undetermined time. I was apprehensive about his reaction; but hoped he would understand.

I climbed the stairs to the main house with my most cherished possession strapped to my back, Sango's Hiraikotsu. With the exception of Kirara, this weapon was the only item I had left of her.

The youkai cat shared time between Kohaku and I; she spent two seasons with each of us, unless we were together. I planned to leave both in Kohaku's care until I returned… if I returned.

Halfway up the stairs, I saw Kohaku pass through the entrance. The young man was looking down and hastily tying the obi at his waist as he hurried across the threshold. Hearing my laughter, his head jerked up.

"Late as usual, eh, Kohaku-sensei?" I said with a smile. "It's a good thing your students are so patient with you."

"Miroku-sama!"

Those brown eyes, so like his sisters, widened at seeing me; after bowing, he then clamped a welcoming hand on my shoulder. Kohaku's resemblance to Sango was more pronounced, now that he was older. He still had the splatter of freckles across his nose, his face had matured and lost its boyish softness, but otherwise he looked the same. He was only a little younger than I was, when I married his sister.

Kohaku and I were now about the same height, but his physique was slightly more muscular than mine was. Although still soft spoken and shy, the once troubled boy had grown into a responsible young adult.

"You didn't send word you were coming," the taijiya complained. "I would have received you better."

"Don't worry, little brother, this is not a social call," I informed him. "Unfortunately, I don't have much time; can you spare me a moment?"

Kohaku seemed to notice the Hiraikotsu for the first time and I watched the uncertainty replace the happiness in his eyes.

"Uh… sure," he said hesitantly. "Oi, Yoichi-san!" Kohaku called for one of his senior students and a boy about the age of twelve came forward. "Would you begin the morning exercises?"

"Hai, Sensei-sama!" the young boy said with enthusiasm, bowed quickly and turned to the group of waiting children. The boy was practically beaming with pride at being singled out by his sensei.

Kohaku's skeptical gaze met mine before he turned and preceded me into the main house. As I followed behind this young man, I had my first doubts about my decision. Was I being selfish? Was I running from my past? Was I trying to fill time until I met Sango in the afterlife, or more important… was I about to hurt the one person, I had come to care so much about?

Miles away, in another province, a lone figure traveled the road. They were dressed in a heavy, thigh length haori and hakamas tucked into calf length soft boots to ward off the chill. Tilting the edge of their jingasa, the weary traveler looked up at the sky. The winters were harsh in this area, but thankfully short. From the dispersing grayness, however, it appeared spring would arrive soon.

This was good news to the traveler; it meant no more long cold nights on the road. As a shinobi scout for the Ashigaru, they were usually away for days at a time, depending on what was essential to the mission. On this occasion, only a guide was required to lead the soldiers through a difficult mountain passage. Three days of rocky terrain, cold winds and sleeping on the ground had taken its toll. Although fatigued, the traveler hastened their steps.

A red thatched roof came into view and a smile graced the traveler's lips. Home… it felt good to be home.

The house stood alone with a dense forest in the background. Behind the structure was a small stream a short distance away. Approaching their residence, the traveler noticed the roof was in dire need of repairs. Nevertheless, it would have to wait until the warm weather.

Before crossing the threshold, the traveler removed their soft-soled boots and placed them in the genkan. Entering the main room, they tossed their satchel on a low table and began lighting a fire in the hearth, giving warmth to the place.

The day had been long and hectic. The traveler was extremely tired, but there were still things to attend to before resting. Moving to a smaller room, they began to undress.

Removing the jingasa, a single, thick rope-like braid uncoiled from around the travelers head and fell down their back. The worn haori and keso slid from slender shoulders and the hakamas pooled around trim ankles, revealing long lean legs. Reaching up, the traveler began untying the bindings at their chest, slowly releasing the mounds from days of confinement.

Stretching her arms overhead, she let out a soft sigh before redressing. Pulling on a simple light blue kosode, she tied the obi at her waist and followed with a mo-bakama apron. Tabi socks and zori sandals completed her outfit. Unbraiding her hair, she ran her fingers through the dark tresses before coiling it into a bun at the back of her head.

Stepping out of the house and onto the engawa, Sango took a moment to enjoy the view of the village below. With one of her rare smiles, the former Taijiya grabbed her satchel and took the road leading to the community she had lived for the past five years.

I watched the monk leave with mixed feelings. I stood at the top of the stairs of the main house and remembered our years together following Ane-ue's death.

Miroku had become a father figure, as well as a big brother, in my life. He was strict when it came to my studies; constantly pointing out it would take more than fighting skills to exceed in this profession. He encouraged me to interact with others to overcome my shyness, but said it was also to learn to read others emotions and intentions.

He allowed me my privacy and never forced his inquires upon me. If this was a strategy to get me to open up, it was successful.

How many times had I turned to Miroku when the memories plagued me? As recent as a few months ago, I had traveled the distance to the temple in the dead of night as my visions of Naraku overwhelmed me. The monk was there for me, with an open ear and words of encouragement; his jovial and tranquil countenance was both comforting and contagious.

Now… he was leaving, the closest person to me was leaving. I was not sure how I felt about that. Miroku had mourned my sister for seven years now, but he was still a young man. If the reaction from the village girls was anything to go by, he was still considered attractive.

The monk had shorn his ponytail in tribute to my sister's passing. Daily exercise and sparring together kept his body in shape and his skills sharp. He even allowed me to set up a training regime for him to increase his strength and agility. When he was away or at the temple, it was obvious from a recent sparring match between us, that he practiced earnestly.

The monk also continued to exude that boyish charm that had captured Ane-ue's heart. Our trips together often resulted in a flock of local women surrounding us and as I got older, I often wondered if there was a woman in Miroku's life. If that were true… the monk was very discreet. In all these years, aside from the occasional verbal flirting, his name had never been linked to another's.

When Miroku arrived with Ane-ue's weapon, I thought… he had finally found someone to share the rest of his life and would finally let go of the past. My loyalties were somewhat divided; although I loved my sister, Miroku was still in the land of the living. However, the news the monk brought was more of a distressing nature.

I did not know what spurred the monk to take on such a dangerous venture, but I had to respect his decision. I was, at least, able to convince him to take along Kirara. By sending the youkai cat, my intentions were somewhat less than honorable. I sent Kirara to protect Miroku; however, it was also a reminder to the monk that his home and family were here, awaiting his return.

At the gate, Miroku and Kirara turned and looked back at me. The monk gave a final wave as the cat transformed into her large form. As the monk climbed on and took to the skies, I recalled the months following my sister's death.

After Naraku's defeat, neither of us could say Sango's name aloud. It was either 'your sister' or 'your wife'. It took a gruff reprimand from Inuyasha and a knock on the head to remind us it was all right to voice our memories.

"What's the matter with you two bakas?" the hanyou snapped. "The woman had a name, damn it… use it!"

With us both smarting from Inuyasha's beating, Miroku and I laughed heartily. All of a sudden, our laughter turned to tears. Mine for what could have been; the monk's for what would never be. Feeling the wetness on my cheek, I realized that was the last time I cried… until today.

Standing on the middle of a busy main road, an old woman looked around furiously. The villagers hastily moved out of the way of her angry gait. Everyone knew the cause of her frustrations and were not about to interfere or delay her. The old woman's name was Rie and she muttered a stream of curses that would make any fish merchant blush.

"I'm too old for this," she mumbled under her breath. Scanning the area once more, she gave a start as she noticed a young woman just entering the village.

"It's about damned time," the old woman continued the conversation with herself. As she stomped off in the direction of the young woman, Rie reflected on meeting Sango. It was seven years ago that the two women crossed paths.

Rie and her grandson, Akio, came upon her battered figure while traveling north. They found her body under mounds of fallen earth and originally believed her dead. Pulling her from the rubbish, they discovered Sango was alive, but just barely. She was severely injured; cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder with multiple contusions. The damage was minor compared to the young woman's head injury; that was what caused Rie the most concern.

Finding a place to bed down, she and Akio worked feverishly through the night, tending to Sango's wounds. The young woman thrashed about wildly, muttering incoherently and calling out. Rie deduced there had been some sort of battle and this made her cautious about making inquiries.

The next day, Rie decided to send Akio to the nearest village to investigate any information regarding a recent battle.

"Don't talk to anyone; just listen," she instructed the youth. "Pay close attention to any mention of demon slayers."

Rie had recognized Sango's uniform. Years ago, she had stayed in a village that had required the Taijiya's services. A giant centipede was destroying their crops and making random attacks on the village. The group of demon slayers appeared and promptly exterminated the problem.

In the village, Akio went unnoticed as he listened to the flow of conversation around him. He had been there most of the day and had heard nothing. He was about to give up and return to their lodgings, but then noticed a group of boys about his age huddled together. They were positioned on a narrow path, between a row of shops and were secretly indulging in a game of Cho-han. Blending in with the others, Akio steered the conversation in the direction he wanted.

"I plan to be one of the best Samurai in the province!" he boasted loudly.

The other boys joined in, taking up the challenge and each giving their input on the subject. Once that topic was exhausted with no results, Akio tried again.

"If by some chance I can't be a samurai, then… I could be a demon slayer!"

"Not likely," one of the older boys uttered. "They have all been eliminated." A confirmation rippled through the crowd with each boy giving his take on what happened. Akio had heard enough, slipping silently away from the group, he headed back to their lodgings.

"The village of demon slayers has been destroyed," was the information reported back to Rie. Akio had no idea the attack had occurred over a year ago. If he had stayed to hear the end of the discussion, that would have been revealed to him. Upon hearing this, his grandmother made the decision to bring Sango with them on their journey.

"We can't leave her behind; we don't know who to entrust her care to," Rie said emphatically.

Placing straw in the back of a wagon, they carefully placed the unconscious Sango inside. After loading up with provisions, they were once again, back on the road.

It was two days before she woke, her large brown eyes taking in her surroundings. Akio jumped from the driver's seat to peer around Rie's shoulders, trying to get a better look at the demon slayer. As the young woman turned her head in Akio's direction, she uttered her first word.

"Kohaku?"

With the intensity of the demon slayers stare, Rie's grandson had definitely become smitten as he stared into the young woman's large brown orbs. Placing her finger under Akio's chin, Rie pressed upward to help him close his mouth, as she asked the injured woman, "What is your name, child?"

Hesitantly, she informed them she was called Sango. They later learned 'Kohaku' was the name of her younger brother. The boy was killed during his first assignment as a demon slayer. That was the extent of Sango's memory. She remembered the death of her brother, father and comrades, but nothing after that. Rie and Akio, as well as Sango, assumed she was the only survivor.

The demon slayer could not recall the location of her village and did not know why it had been under attack. Her last memory was of holding her dying brother before she passed out.

Rie saw Sango as a lost soul. She was an entity without a family, without a home. Taking the young woman under her wing, Rie treated her as the daughter she never had. That was seven years ago…

Rie's thoughts cleared as the demon slayers distinct, long-legged stride brought them closer together.

Sango could tell by the look on her friend's face that she was not happy. In fact, Rie looked extremely agitated. Knowing the older woman the way she did, Sango had a good idea what the trouble was and she cringed inwardly. Although apprehensive, the demon slayer looked casual as she waved. "Greetings, Oba," Sango approached with caution. "Is… everything all right?"

"No!" the older woman nearly shrieked. "Everything is 'not' all right," she said with emphasis. "As usual," Rie continued, arms akimbo, "it's your children; their in trouble… again!"

To be continued…

Authors Notes: I'd like to thank the following site managers: hagakureproductions, wikepedia and animeotaku. In regards to this fanfic, your information was invaluable.

Gekokujo – lower class rebellion against noblemans' rule

daimyo – feudal lord

shogunate – Japanese military government

sensei – teacher

ashigaru – foot soldier

shinobi – ninja

genkan – entry hall

Cho-han – form of gambling

Oba – aunt