A/N I know I know, I'm a horrible person for not updating, I actually had half a mind not to finish it, but then I read the reviews and realized it would be a cruel thing. I sort of lost interest in it for awhile but looking back I would really like to finish it, so here it is the next chapter! I warn you I'm going to slow things down a bit, noticing that I sped them up pretty quickly. Well enjoy.

Chapter 5 Digging Deeper

'Ok Sango, lets review over the day, met Kagome's boyfriend, got publicly assaulted in a hallway by the scariest guy at school, and found out the scariest guy in school is interested in me, and I like it…… wow…. No wonder mom said High School got even more complicated as she went through it.' With a sigh Sango lifted herself from her bed and paced around her room, it wasn't that she was scared of Miroku, no…no….she was more like……well is there a word for him?

After that class had gone by she had all but zipped out of the classroom, and fortunately didn't have another run in with him, she refused to admit to herself however, that she had felt a slight disappointment in that fact, of course no one had to know that. Sighing for what seemed the umpteenth time she let herself fall back on to the black, hot pink -polka- dotted comforter. Staring at her white ceiling she tried to shake him from her thoughts and the more she tried the less easier she found it. He was like a mosquito that even after it had bitten and left, you still thought it was there because of the bite.

Sango was quickly drawn from her thoughts when a knock was posed at her bedroom door that had many posters and journalism entries taped to it.

"Come in, it's unlocked," when the door opened her little brother stood in her door way. She smiled, she had always been rather close to her little brother who was probably no more than 13.

"What do you need Kohaku?" She asked softly as he came and sat on her bed with a sad smile on his face. Sango immediately noticed and sat up to face him, she now noticed the picture in his left hand that held the familiar face of their father. Sango's eyes widened a little with shock as she looked at her calendar at that hung right above her bed and felt her insides clinch.

Tomorrow was the anniversary of their father's death…. Sango had remembered it so clearly, it was part of the reason she was happy when they moved to Kyoto. She had wanted to get away from everything that reminded her of what her family had lost. Sango pulled Kohaku close to her and stroked his unruly brown mass of hair.

"Kohaku….I…. I miss him too," Kohaku just looked up and stroked the face of his father that was forever preserved in the piece of paper. Both Sango and Kohaku let the memories of what had happened run through their minds…..

"Dad are almost home yet?" an excited twelve year-old boy asked. Sango giggled at her little brother, they had recently gotten back from visiting an old friend and were now on their way home.

"Kohaku you keep asking that and it'll take us even longer to get there!" the father said with laughter and teasing in his eyes. Kohaku suddenly got bored with the silence that filled the car. He began tapping his fingers upon his lap and looking out the window with as much boredom as a blank board had, now that says a lot. Sango shifted her gaze to her brother who she could tell was trying to find something outside of the car to occupy himself. Looking down she noticed the CDs and immediately smiled.

"Dad mind if we listen to some music?" She asked, Kohaku's face suddenly turned and a huge grin spread across his it!

"Yeah! Can we?" The father gazed at his children and smiled while nodding. He let his hand reach back for the CD. Sango gave him one and he turned to put it in. Night had finally fallen and the stars littered the sky, the music played softly as it surrounded each person. They all laughed as the sang along to it, rejoicing the fact that they were in each other's presence.

How were they to know it would be the last time to hear their father's laugh? How were they to know it would be the last smile they would see on his face? They didn't there was no way to. One cannot predict the future and hope to save everyone that becomes lost in it.

While in the middle of a song the CD began to skip. Frowning the father looked down, "Oh shoot, I really liked that song too," he had failed to put his eyes on the road, paying more attention to try and change the track of the CD. Suddenly all that could be seen where someone's brights flashing through the glass.

"DAD!" Sango and Kohaku both screamed in unison, and suddenly all that consumed them was a blinding light.

Sango didn't know what happened after that, she had woken up to find herself in the hospital with tubes and bandages wrapping her entire body. She tried to shift it only to find that everything hurt, everything felt like someone had thrown her into a brick wall repeatedly. She noticed that she could really see out of her left eye, her eye lid felt heavy as if swollen.

She looked out of the corner of her eye to see her mother talking with who she assumed to be the doctor, and looked to the other side to see her brother in a similar state, however not matter where she looked she could not see her father. Had he gotten out ok? How is that possible he should have taken most of the blow…. Unless…. Sango felt like she was going to stop breathing and swallowed thickly in her throat as she felt the tears rise up. He throat felt scratchy as she tried to rasp out to her mother.

"Mom…. Mom…mo," her voice was weak and she began coughing which soon enough caught her mother's attention. Her mother whipped around and hurriedly ran to her daughter's side.

"Oh thank god! You woke up honey thank god!" Sango had ever hardly seen her mother cry, but when she did she knew things were bad, although as if it wasn't obvious enough with the situation they were in.

"Dad?" she felt her self croak, her mother looked away trying to avoid eye contact. She slowly shook her head and buried her head in her hands allowing sobs to slowly rack her body. Sango had no idea how a broken heart had felt until that point. It was like someone taking your favorite doll and shredded it to pieces. The tears that softly ran down her bruised and battered cheeks stung on the open cuts of her face. It only served to remind her that she was still on this earth, still breathing while her father was not.

That night had nearly shattered her life, nearly killed her . The only thing that kept her smiling, kept her laughing was Kohaku. Soon after she had woken up he had as well. Kohaku however, had been really attached to their father, not that Sango wasn't but, the attachment to their father was quite different. The incident had ripped up his heart, and for months during recovery he had refused to smile, laugh, or talk.

So as they healed Sango made it her goal to make sure he had something to smile about. She knew the mental wound would never truly heal, and nor did she expect it to. She did however, hope that with time, it would become nothing more than a tragic memory that they could move on from without it breaking their hearts.

Months passed and they found themselves coming into the summer, and soon their mother had declared about her big promotion and how they were moving. While it thrilled them, it also ate away at them. She remembered so vividly packing all of her things allowing the memories of the house she had grown up in sink it and then fade to the recesses of her mind.

Sango looked down at her little brother and moved her hand to gently stroke the picture with Kohaku. It had been the last picture taken with him. It was his most precious thing in the whole world. Often she would find him looking at it when he was upset or depressed, it somehow soothed him.

"Sango? Do you think…. Do you think he's happy where he is?" His voice was timid, as if he had been crying before he entered her room. Smiling softly she nodded to him, "I do Kohaku, I do believe that he's happy where he is, and that he's watching us with that goofy smile of his," Kohaku let as small chuckle come through him and then leaned his head on her shoulder. He was still moving on, but he could do it he knew he could.

Now the attachment to their father was one of love, while there are many who have such a relationship, there was one who didn't. At this moment he was sitting on his bed enduring yet another nightmare of his father.

Beneath the closed eyes of a young a boy, he could hear everything from outside his bedroom door. Even though his hands tried to cover his ears to bottle the sound of his parents screaming, he knew he could not. "Go away, go away," his immature voice silently whispered in the dark. But nothing could stop the painful words from reaching him through his door. Tears threatened to leak out from his violet eyes as he suddenly heard something hit his door in loud bang. A cry of pain was heard as his eyes shot open! He quickly rose to see to what had hit his door. Hesitantly he reached for the handle when again it hit is door, and this time he could tell it wasn't a something it was a someone who once again screamed out.

"You whore, you make my life miserable, you and that damn boy!" The young by closed his eyes feeling something wet trail down his cheeks as his violet yes flared with fury. He jerked open his door to see his mother sprawled on the floor in a heap and his father standing above her. Without a second thought he flung himself at his father his small hands scratching pulling and hitting whatever he could. His father roared out in anger as he flung the boy towards the wall. Miroku looked up to see plane fury in his father's eyes.

His mother who laid sprawled reached out to him, her eyes filled with uncontained horror. She crawled slowly to him as the father just watched and shielded his body with hers.

"You think that's going to protect him?" He screamed as he knocked a hard blow to her head. Yet she did not relent she did not pull away. She merely kept chanting, "Don't worry baby, he won't hurt you, I promise I'll protect you," the father continuously laughed as Miroku shut his eyes and clung to his mom. Suddenly he could feel something falling on his face, mingling with his tears, when he touched it, it was not only his mother's blood, but her tears as well.

Suddenly he began to panic, crying for her to release him, he could no longer feel the warm breath on her cheek, he could no longer feel her chest rising and falling, what he could feel was her body fall on top of his and lay limp. Wide eyes looked at her with horror. Blood was seeping on to his shoulder where her head was.

"Mommy? Mommy? Mommy get up you're hurting me!" He looked up to see his father's eyes wide with shock. Realizing his mommy was not getting up his tears fell even more as he quickly crawled out from underneath her and stood staring at his father. The father began to laugh, a wild glint appeared in his eyes, sanity lost to him as he reached out to Miroku, "Come here son… daddy just wants a hug!"

Miroku shouted as he ran past him and down the stairs, fear eating him alive as he ran out the door looking behind him to see his father chasing after him in a clumsy mess.

"HELP SOMEONE HELP!" He ran along the streets cutting through alleys and houses as he tried to reach the police station not far from his house. His father was gaining on him, Miroku's small legs pushed, pushed to get away pushed to get free, pushed to find help. He didn't desire to die, so he ran as hard and as fast as his legs would carry him.

He reached the police station wildly banging on the door, and cop in a blue uniform came hurriedly towards the child.

"Hey kid what's wrong?" Miroku flung himself at the man and clung to him with all his life shouting with all he could, "Don't let him get me! Please don't he killed my mommy!" The man tried to soothe the young boy, trying to figure out who he was talking about, but when he looked he saw no one, he looked down at Miroku and brought him inside the station, never the man that took off afterwards down the streets.

Three days passed, and Miroku had been interrogated and the scene had been investigated and clues had been picked. In those three days Miroku cried and hatred swept into him like rushing water. His small hands clenched as he went to his mother's funeral, she didn't look real, didn't look like she was his mother. He didn't allow himself to cry, he would not appear weak. He gained many looks of sympathy and pity and he hated himself all the more for it.

He loathed how he couldn't protect her, loathed how she had died protecting him, loathed that he was weak. He loathed himself. When Miroku had finally turned ten, his father had been spotted and arrested for murder. He was sentenced to death and when Miroku entered the room to identify him his father spoke.

"What's wrong boy? Your eyes have turned cold, and you act like your twenty instead of ten," he laughed roughly. He looked totally beaten and starved, as if he had spent the last three years on the streets, barely scraping what he could. 'Serves him right,' Miroku thought. Yet the question of why began ringing in his head.

"Why?" He asked softly, his hands clenching and unclenching in his fists, the man smirked with sadistic glee.

"Why eh?" he paused as if he had to think about it, which further upset Miroku, "Because I loved to hear her scream!" he than laughed as Miroku's eyes flared with rage, Miroku launched himself at the man putting his hands around his throat, he was immediately pulled back by officers who tried to calm him quickly. The man laughed as he was coughing, rubbing his throat sorely.

"Like father like son right!" He laughed louder, the sound of his laughter made Miroku furious.

"I'll never be like you!" He screamed his father, ceased laughing as he looked Miroku in the eyes, the same violet eyes that they shared.

"Tell yourself that when you are strangling someone," his violet eyes narrowed as he stared at Miroku. Miroku left the room and soon fell on his knees dejected. Shaking his head as if to rid himself the doubt, 'I won't…. I won't be like him,' he got up and moved on.

With a jolt Miroku rose from his bed, he felt as if the sweat was pouring off of him in waves, and sighed. 'Not again,' he then laid back to stare at the wall. He could so vividly remember his life after that moment. He went from home to home to home, never really finding anyone who wanted to take him in. They all found him creepy because he refused to talk and play with the other kids. Then again other kids didn't have the life he did.

Maybe that's what hurt the most was that no matter how hard he tried, he would envy every kid with a good father, envy how they seemed so carefree while his entire life had been one huge nightmare. It wasn't until he was thirteen he actually find someone who wanted to take care of him, the young woman that had decided had, had a pretty rough life and so could somewhat relate to him.

Maybe that's why he was somewhat close to her, she was in her forties and had blonde hair and green eyes. They somewhat calmed him, because his mother had green eyes, maybe not as dull but still….She had took him in and never questioned his behavior, she treated him with kindness and respect and in return he had grown close to her.

Even now he could still hear her obnoxious snoring through his wall. Chuckling softly he rose to gaze at the clock. 4:23 he smiled, only a couple of hours before he would be seeing his new "interest". He had found her absolutely adorable when she had blushed, the innocence she gave off was like a drug he was slowly becoming addicted to. He couldn't get enough of her, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. She displayed something that always seemed out his reach, now taunting him, and he be damned if he didn't get what he wanted.

His violet eyes glinted in the moonlight as he softly smirked, 'Dear Sango, what will you do?' he was curious how she would react to his next course of action, and oh what an interesting course it would be. He smiled again, he could imagine her flushed face, her delicate hands wringing themselves together in nervousness. He allowed the memory of her small gasps and beautiful voice to enter his head, soothing away his earlier nightmare. She was different and that made it all the more fun, she was interesting and by her reaction in the hall when they were walking to class, she wasn't all quiet and study, she obviously had some fire in her.

An that…. That made her all the more challenging. Once again he smirked and allowed sleep to claim in. Engulfing him in darkness while he conjure up even more images of his little mouse.

Ok what do you think? Good? Bad? Please comment and tell me what you think!