Author Note: Boy…it's been a long time! I discovered the remnants of this chapter while attempting to retrieve documents I lost years ago. My writing has changed since '05, so I hope there's not a huge disparity between this chapter and the last three. I've been considering revising the entire story for continuity. BUT I had only planned 5 chapters in total for this story, which means the next installment will be the last. That may be disappointing for many of you, but I already have other ideas for Inuyasha and Sango in the works.

Anyway, thank you for coming back and reading! I hope I've kept the original spirit of this story, despite the six-some year hiatus.

Chapter 4: Your Eyes

And I've always lived like this

Keeping a comfortable distance

And up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness

- Paramore

The camp was quiet when Inuyasha and Sango returned. Kagome had curled up in her sleeping bag and Miroku was absently poking at the fire. It suddenly felt like the dead of winter, when the air was too cool and dry to breathe. How else could Sango explained the tightening of her chest at the sight of the Houshi's blank, glazed eyes?

"Ah, you're back. Did you enjoy your bath?"

The tightening increased at the sound of his voice. While it lacked malice, it was also void of its usual playful warmth. It was so sterile. And why did he have to make it sound so…scandalous? As if she and Inuyasha had bathed together? Sango shivered at the thought, although she didn't analyze its origin. "I'm doing fine now, Houshi-sama. Inuyasha took care of me." Like he always has. Sango firmly believed that, so she did nothing to stop herself from thinking it. She would expect no less from a dog demon protecting his pack. However, the spark in Miroku's eyes, whether actual or mirrored by the fire, made her wonder if she should have mentioned Inuyasha at all. Or do you enjoy adding injury to his insult?

"I'm sure he did." Miroku said, while gripping the stick in his white-knuckled fist. The sight of the hanyou with the taijiya in his arms made his insides burn.

Sango flinched. Why did she feel like he had just slapped her? Inuyasha's grip on her tightened, and she unconsciously leaned into his chest. Maybe Miroku was tired. He had been tending to Kagome all day, even with his injured leg. Liar. "Why don't you sleep now, Houshi-sama. You'll need the rest in order for your leg to heal. I'll take the first watch."

Using his staff, Miroku stood up and brushed off his robes. "Actually, my leg needs a bit of exercise right now. I think I'll take a walk around."

The words "oh…okay" came out of Sango's mouth before she could think to say anything else. When he limped past her, the material of his robes slightly brushed against her arm, but the warmth of his body was dwarfed by his chilly demeanor. Even her small smile was left unreturned. She wanted to retain innocence and pretend that she didn't notice the way his eyes jealously sized Inuyasha up. Although, she still believed it was silly for Miroku to feel that way. Inuyasha would never see her as anything other than a comrad and friend.

The fact that he still held Sango in his arms stopped Inuyasha from running the monk through with his Tetsusaiga. He could smell Miroku's jealousy a mile away, even though Kagome had decided he was totally ignorant to emotional affairs. He wasn't stupid. The monk was experiencing lust, if not love, for the slayer and any male of any species could figure that out. Why Miroku chose to be jealous of him was another matter. Inuyasha knew he was far from gentleman material, but he would never do anythingto purposely hurt or take advantage of Sango. He hadn't marked her as a demon would, or stolen her heart in typical human fashion. Even his natural musk was barely mingling with her own, not that the monk could smell it. Although he could, and it would be a lie if he denied how pleasant it was becoming…

Inuyasha walked into the cave and carefully placed Sango on a sleeping mat that Kagome must have laid out earlier. His ears twitched, catching the awkward gate of a limp monk wandering the wood. "Stay here. I'll be right back." He turned to go, but felt a soft pull at the sleeve of his haori.

Sango stared up at him, pleading for answers that he couldn't give her. He had noticed that her hand sent a strange heat up his arm and onto his face. I'm blushing like a freakin' girl. "Stop worrying. I'll find out what's wrong with the dumb monk."

She nodded and let him go.

"You better be sleeping when I get back." His bark was followed by a slight grin, and Sango couldn't help but return it

"What the hell is your problem?"

The gruff voice would have jolted another, but Miroku had been anticipating Inuyasha's arrival. Now, if he could just find an excuse for his behavior…

"Hey, I'm talkin' to-"

"She doesn't love me."

Whatever argument Inuyasha was expecting, it definitely did not start out like that. "What are you spewing now, monk?"

Miroku sighed and leaned more heavily on his staff, suffering through the pain of his foolishness, and that damned leg injury. "Sango. She loved me once. I could tell. Her eyes tell you everything about her, if you know how to look. I bet you never knew that."

Inuyasha didn't know where this conversation was going, but it was starting to make him uneasy. "I don't spend all of my time staring at her eyes, monk."

Miroku smiled slightly. "No, I suppose not. But you have noticed them. My hands may beg to differ, but I do believe her eyes are her best feature." The smile twisted into a smirk. "Although, since you haven't noticed her eyes, what have you been staring at?"

If Inuyasha had forgotten to control his jaw, it would have dropped open. "What the hell does that mean?" The joints in his fingers popped as he flexed them. "I haven't looked at nothin' and if you like her so much, why bite her head off like that? She was just worried about you, ya know." Idiot. Freakin' scumbag. Worthless monk.

Miroku stayed silent for a time, gazing heavily into the darkness ahead, and his hanyou companion waited for a response. "What do you know of love?"

There was another pause, and the Inuyasha scowled. "Is your head broke, or something? Don't try pullin' your philosophical bullshit on me." He cracked his knuckles, itching to carve a few choice words into monk flesh. "If you want to make daisy chains and talk about feelings, go find Kagome. She likes that garbage."

Miroku smirked, understanding and appreciating Inuyasha's lack of desire to play word games, even though he was playing one of his own by denying is interest in emotion. He was more than aggravated as Sango's lack of interest, and it was bringing out a bitterness he thought he had controlled. "How do you recognize love, Inuyasha? And would you know it if it came to you?" For now, he would play this game with the hanyou until he felt better.

The questions remained a burden to be answered, and Inuyasha wondered what he did he know of love. His mother was dead, his brother was trying to kill him, and the first woman he had ever fallen in love with was a strange culmination of both – dead and trying to kill him. He couldn't boast his success in the love department. Although, the monk certainly wasn't winning any awards either.

Miroku waited for a response, studying the hanyou as he contemplated. There was a persistent, dull throb in his chest. She was so beautiful, his Sango. All along, since their first meeting, he had regarded her as his. Despite the teasing, sexual nature of his usual advances, Miroku's feelings toward the slayer were genuine. To even consider her involvement with another man made the pain of the void in his hand miniscule. And considering that such a man could be the last he had ever expected…

"I don't know much about love." Inuyasha spoke in a low voice, clipping his words. "It's only managed to screw me over. My life's better off avoiding it."

Such lies, though Miroku should have felt relieved at such an admission. If the hanyou chose to never love again, there would be one less obstacle guarding Sango's heart. But the reality would never be so ideal. "What about Kagome?"

Inuyasha snarled. "What about her?"

"Don't you love her?" Push the knife in, and twist.

The hanyou tensed. "She…" His hand clenched at his side, the clawed fingers pressing into the calloused flesh of his palm. "My past connects me to her. I wouldn't call that love." Inuyasha wasn't in the mood for this kind of introspection, especially over feelings he was still sorting out for himself. And it frankly was none of the monk's business. "I don't know what you're getting at with these questions, Miroku, but I'd appreciate it if you just spit out whatever's made you so pissy." He moved close enough to roughly prod the monk's chest with his finger, paying no heed to his claws. "Sango would appreciate it too. Hurt her and I'll have your ass."

Miroku felt the pain in his chest, a strange physical representation of how he had been feeling since yesterday, and wondered if the days when Sango brought him pleasure were over. After watching Inuyasha's fierce demonstration of loyalty, he had to assume so. "Nothing. It's not a concern any longer. Let's get back to camp."

Kagome stirred from sleep when she felt a figure moving beside her. Slowly she peered through one partially opened eye, and saw Sango adjusting her pallet for the night. Kagome held in a sigh, not wishing to draw attention to herself just yet. Although, with Sango's training, she was probably already aware that her friend was no longer asleep.

"Did I wake you, Kagome?"

Called that one. "Yeah, but don't worry about it. How are your wounds?"

Sango was thankful for Kagome's civility in the wake of Miroku's lack of it. "If I'm careful not to reopen them, they should heal quickly." She smiled and returned to adjusting her blankets. Even though her wounds would heal, sleeping with them would prove to be less than comfortable.

"Where's Inuyasha? And Miroku?" Kagome pushed herself onto her elbows and searched their campsite. "He left me here while I was sleeping!"

Sango winced at the elevated volume of the girl's voice, as her ears had grown accustomed to the silence of the night. "Miroku went to exercise his leg." She saw no harm in giving Kagome the exact excuse the monk had given her. "And Inuyasha followed…" But for what purpose? "For…for Miroku's protection." As ridiculous as that sounded to Sango, she hoped Kagome would accept the response.

"That was uncharacteristically nice of him."

Sango swallowed the lump her lies had left in her throat. "Yeah…he's been unusual lately. Perhaps he's menstruating. What did you call it earlier? His 'man period'?"

Kagome's giggles warmed Sango's insides. "Inuyasha's a jackass without PMS! With it, he'd be unbearable! I can't imagine it would make him nice." The thought of the hanyou experiencing his 'man period', and wandering around a drugstore with tampons in one hand and Midol in the other, thoroughly amused Kagome. She continued to cackle at the image.

Sango smiled, carefully turning to face her friend. "What is it?"

"Just imaging that jerk-face with feminine products."

The slayer chuckled, knowing the 'products' Kagome was speaking of. She had seen the ingenious pink containers that held absorbent cloth inside. Honestly, the idea of Inuyasha carrying anything pink was rather funny.

"Hey! I told you to sleep! Your loud mouths have probably alerted every demon within the next three miles." Being unknowingly loud himself, Inuyasha stomped through the clearing, an ambling Miroku in tow.

Despite the insult, Kagome collapsed in peals of laughter. A glance was shared between hanyou and taijiya, with the latter chuckling softly and offering a simple shrug.

Inuyasha snorted, still confused, and settled down just outside the cave in his usual cross-legged position. "Whatever. Just shut up and go to sleep."

Strangely, everyone listened. Miroku avoided Sango's eyes, taking his rest against the far wall, away from the girls but closer to Kagome. The slayer guarded her expression, not wanting her emotions to carelessly give away her thoughts. Kagome remained oblivious, giving Inuyasha a rude gesture with her fingers before closing the sleeping bag over her head. Without noticing the slight change in sleeping arrangements, everything appeared as usual. It would take a close eye to detect the tension brewing beneath the surface.

AN x2: I've always regarded Miroku as a mature but easily depressed creature, despite his joking façade. It reminds me of that episode with Kuranosuke. Miroku can be rather malicious when he's jealous, and sometimes shuts himself down. Considering that Sango's interest may now be with someone so close to him, I expect that Miroku would act the same way. Only worse, much worse. As for Kagome, she may let some of her emotions get the best of her, but I think she primarily hides how she feels.