Sango sat near the gate of the town, drawing patterns in the dirt and waiting to hear the calls of her father and the other taijiya as they returned from their most recent assignment. Father had said no more than ten days. It was now day twelve.

The crunch of sandals against dirt and stone had her turning to see who was coming. It was her mother, with her baby brother tied to her back.

"Sango, dear, why don't you come for lunch?"

Sango shook her head and looked back to the gate. "Not hungry."

Her mother put one hand on her hip. "Sango, growing taijiya need to eat. Even when they miss their fathers."

"But—"

"No buts! Now come on." Her mother held out a hand.

Sango groaned and whined, but got to her feet and took the hand.

They walked the short way back to their home. Sango stared at the dirt as she walked, kicking pebbles that were in their path. Once they were situated at home, their food before them and Kohaku on a blanket a safe distance from the fire, Sango asked, "Why is father taking so long?"

Her mother sighed. "I don't know. It could be any number of things. Maybe their assignment took longer than they thought, or maybe they found a village that needs their help."

"But what if he never ever comes home?" Sango asked, slapping her tiny hands on the ground, eyes squeezed shut. "What if they got hurt and I never see him again?"

Sango could hear her mother put down her food and scoot to kneel next to her. "Now where did you get such an idea?" she asked, stroking her back.

Sango sniffed and pulled her hands up to press against her tummy. She felt sick. "Tomoyo said her brother left and never came back."

Her mother was quiet for a while. Sango looked up at her. She was biting her bottom lip. After a sigh, her mother said, "Yes, that is true. Tomoyo's brother went out for an assignment and didn't come back. Do…do you know why?"

"She said he was dead. That…that dead means you don't ever see them again." Tears welled up. "I want to see father! I don't want him to be dead!"

Sango found herself picked up and in her mother's lap. She turned and cried into her kimono while her mother stroked her hair. When she had calmed down, her mother started talking softly.

"You're still very young, Sango, but I think you should understand about how dangerous the work we taijiya do is. Yes, Tomoyo's brother didn't come back. He was supposed to stay near his father, where he was safe. He wanted to show how brave he was, so he went after the demon they were tracking on his own, but he wasn't ready. If…when you go out, with either father or me, you must be sure to listen to what we tell you, alright?"

"But what if you are dead? What if father is dead?" Sango sniffed and rubbed her nose with her sleeve. "I'll never see you again."

"Father and I have both trained a very long time, Sango. And we never go out alone. We always have someone else there. And—"

"But what if you're dead?!"

Kohaku started fussing and her mother made shushing noises and pulled the baby's blanket over to them, dragging the little boy along with it. She picked up Kohaku, held him with one arm, and held Sango close with the other.

"Well, now. I've got both my darlings here." She planted a kiss on each of their foreheads. Kohaku quieted down and snuggled against their mother, tiny hands grabbing at nothing. Sango sat still, waiting for her mother's response. At length, the dark-haired woman said, "If—and this is a big if, mind you—if father and I were…to die…which isn't happening anytime soon, dear Sango…you'd have to look after yourself and your little brother. The whole village will help, so you won't be alone, but you'd be in charge of making sure Kohaku is safe."

Sango squinted at her brother. He had recently stopped looking like a weird root, like he had looked right after he had been born, and more like a normal little baby, but he was still noisy, messy, and couldn't do anything. "Really? Do I have to?"

Her mother laughed. "Yes. But like I said, your father and I train a lot, and we know how to be safe. We won't be leaving you anytime soon."

"Now what's this I hear about leaving?" a low voice called from the entryway.

"Father!" Sango cried, leaping from her mother's lap and throwing herself into her father's waiting arms. "You're back, you're back!"

"Well, of course I'm back! Silly little girl. I said twelve days, didn't I?"

Sango blinked up at him. "What? No, you said ten."

Her father put on a very serious face and shook his head. "No, no. I'm quite sure I said twelve. Isn't that right, my darling wife?"

Said darling wife was giving her darling husband a very unamused stare. "I can't recall either way," she said dryly, moving to stand.

"He said ten! Ten! I remember, I remember!"

Her father deposited her on the ground. "Well, now that's just silly. Why would I say ten when I meant twelve? You must be getting older, Sango. You're already forgetting things!"

Sango continued to howl and stamp her little foot. She barely noticed her father sweeping her mother into his arms and kissing her, careful of the little baby between them. She did notice when it went on for a whole lot longer than Sango thought was really necessary. She groaned and went back to the fire to finish her food. Parents were gross.

When her mother put Kohaku next to her and told her not to let him get close to the fire while she and father went out to talk, Sango nodded. L"Don't worry, little brother," she said, patting his little belly as he blinked up at her. "I'll take care of you."