"And here I thought our fight with the plant demon was a miserable victory," Sango thought to herself as she recalled the group's battle in the woodlands that had started the whole thing.

Now laying in the clearing of the woodlands, staring up at the sky, Sango found herself almost laughing at such a concept. How she longed for such a similar outcome, as part of a group that was mostly intact and with an injured companion whose demonic healing powers maximized his chances for survival. Instead she found herself sprawled out on a blood-soaked battle ground littered with worn out weapons and broken bodies, including her own. It seemed as if every inch of her body ached with pain and fatigue, while the sizable amount of partially dried blood on her uniform and skin made it feel like she was covered in molasses. The bleeding from the large gash in her forehead had finally ceased, but it was still seeping from her injured leg, now at a slower pace, but this could simply have been because she hardly had any left to lose. With no water, food, or medical supplies, her odds of survival were looking grimmer every second. Kirara was still nowhere to be found, and Sango couldn't help but fear the worst.

Still there was a great deal of pride in what she had accomplished. She had finally done it; finished the last unresolved hunt of her youth. The one demon who had gotten away and the most skilled demon she had ever faced prior to Naraku was no more. She had gone through numerous obstacles, fought through nearly every type of battle situation imaginable, and despite taking a constant pummeling, she had fought to the end and prevailed. Now it seemed there was little more to do except wait for the end. Perhaps death would be her only release, her only reward.

As a demon slayer, she had always known this would be a high probability, and she had long ago learned to accept it. If anything, death after such a long quest and a glorious victory was almost ideal. Her thoughts continued to wander as she imagined the lavish funeral her village would hold for her and the grand speech her father would have made, with Kohaku being told again and again how he should be proud and do his best to live up to her example. Sango had been to her share of them herself growing up, and recalled fondly how the departed's best deeds and proudest moment were recalled in great detail to provide comfort to all those left behind.

"No, that's foolish," Sango thought, smirking at her own game of self-delusion. Her village was gone and all its inhabitants were dead, save for Kohaku, who was now suffering through what most would consider a fate worse than death. Sango was going to die a miserable death, if not from her injuries then from exposure and starvation, out in the middle of this wretched forest and no one would be left to tell her tale. Perhaps Inuyasha and the others would find her remains some day, but that was the best she could ever hope for. Of course, that was assuming they were still alive to do so. Perhaps Zanshin had told the truth about Naraku's assault on the village and they had all met their own fate at his hands. There was simply no way to know.

But one thing she did know of was Miroku. Without even being asked, he had gone through the whole experience with her. He had chosen to make this issue his own and had been totally committed to the cause the entire way through, but his only reward would be sharing her own fate. This was the worst feeling. The one the overrode everything else. Knowing that he was going to die for her, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

Desperately, Sango racked her brain for some consolation. It had been his choice to come along with her, after all. In fact, hadn't she done everything possible to ensure that he didn't? But no, Sango knew she was once again deluding herself. Miroku loved her. Though he hadn't said it outright until recently, she had known this whole time. There was no real choice in the matter. Sango's determination to resume this hunt had ensured he would come along as well. She knew this for a fact, simply because under the same circumstances, Sango would have done exactly the same thing for him. She should have known, and perhaps she had. Suddenly, Sango started to wonder if her decision leave Kirara behind hadn't been a subconscious assist rather than an attempt to go it alone; perhaps a subtle way to ensure Miroku had a chance to find her before she got too far ahead.

But there was no point dwelling on such things. If Miroku was going to die for her, the least she could do was go to him...be with him till the end. Sango was so wracked with guilt that she could barely force herself to look in his direction, but she knew this had to be done. Sango owed him that much. Desperately fighting against the urge to let the darkness claim her, Sango painfully rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up on her hands and knees. Then she slowly rose lifted head to get a good look at Miroku for the first time since she had rejoined the fight.

What she saw nearly made her throw up. Miroku had crawled over to a tree sitting up against the tree for support, with his right arm resting across his lap and his broken left arm limply at his side. The lower portion of his face and upper portion of his robe was thoroughly covered blood, while cuts, bruises, and swollen lumps were mixed into seemingly every inch of his exposed skin. His eyes were still open and he appeared conscious, but just barely so. Having seen enough, Sango pulled herself off the ground and head to him, determined to spend whatever final moments they had together.

This turned out to be far more difficult than Sango realized. Upon standing up and surging forward, she was only able to take a few steps before screaming in pain and collapsing with a dull thud. By this point, her injured leg was excruciating and supporting any weight with it required significant effort. In response, Sango's attitude changed from resigned depression to pure rage.

"I just defeated one of the greatest warriors this nation has ever seen. I'll be damned if I can't take a few more fucking steps!"

Gritting her teeth in frustration, Sango once again pushed herself off the ground and set out, this time determined to get to Miroku no matter how painful it was. As she clumsily stumbled forward, she could see Miroku was aware of her actions. He was fully alert now, and appeared to be pointing in her direction with his one good arm and mumbling something that Sango couldn't make out. This was rather baffling to Sango, but she didn't give it a second thought. Getting to him was all that mattered at the moment. And with a few more steps that continued to test the limits of her pain tolerance, she finally arrived, sinking to her knees next to the tree Miroku was leaning on.

"Miroku!" Sango shouted, trying to hold back tears. "I'm so sorry...sorry for everything"

Through his bloody and battered face, Sango could make out a surprising smile. "Why Sango, W-what do you mean?" He asked weakly. His voice was low and clearly reflected his overall condition. "You won, didn't you."

"Yes...we won. Zanshin is gone. But at what price? We're both going to die out here in the middle of nowhere and it's all my fault!"

Despite this dire news, Miroku maintained his smile and positive attitude. "Sango...it's alright. We just need to hang on a bit longer. Everything's going to be alright."

Now Sango was unable to unable to suppress her tears any longer. Miroku's comfort in such a time of need was a true testament to the strength of his character, even if it was unrealistically optimistic. "Oh Miroku, it means so much to hear that from you. But we have to face the facts. No one's coming for us out here. And with our injuries, there's no way we can make it out of this place alive. But I promise I'll stay with you. I promise we'll be together to the very end."

Miroku still seemed assured of his position. "I know we will, Sango. But that's not going to happen any time soon."

This caused Sango to pause. His tone was so full of conviction that it was practically certain it was based on more then mere hope.

"You just need to have a little more faith," he explained, "and look over your left shoulder a little more often."

Sango's tears quickly dried up as she was suddenly perplexed at his closing remark. Then she saw him pointing again, just as he had before. But now Sango realized he wasn't pointing at her, but at something behind her and in the air. Miroku was simply too badly crippled to do so effectively. Following his prompt, Sango turned and looked behind her, to discover the most welcoming sight. Kirara, her faithful demon cat and currently their only chance of survival, was in sight. She was a mere speck in high in the air at the moment, but was bearing down rapidly and would arrive in seconds.

"Miroku? How long did you know?..."

Miroku laughed a bit before being interrupted by some sickly coughing. "I saw her as soon as you started making your way over here. And before you kill me for not informing you sooner, you should know I made my best attempt under the circumstances. And I certainly do appreciate all the effort you made in getting here, however unnecessary it turned out."

If there was any anger at all the needless pain she had endured, it quickly passed. Sango was now gazing up at the sky as Kirara came into full view. Much to her dismay, Sango could see Kirara was just as ravaged and bloody as they were, but it was soon apparent a fair amount of the blood on her fur was not her own. Kirara could not speak but the expression on her face practically told the tale for her, how after a seemingly endless battle, she had finally reduced her dragon opponent to a shredded wreck. How the battle had taken her miles away from Sango and Miroku, and by the time it was done, she had completely lost track of where she had left them. With Malth's and her own blood covering her body and diluting her senses, it had taken her nearly an hour to track them down, but she had finally done it. And not a moment to soon, for she could tell they were badly in need for of the water and medical supplies she carried on her back.

"See now, I told you everything would be alright," said Miroku as Sango turned back to face him. "I'm afraid you'll have to handle things on your own again though. I'm not exactly in ideal shape to be patching us up this time."

"I can see that, but don't worry. Just relax now. I'll take care of everything, I promise," Sango replied.

"I know you will," Miroku said as he leaned back against the tree and started to close his eyes. "But you better not try anything inappropriate", he added in mocking reference to their argument in the woods after the Laboratory battle. "Because I'd hate to miss it."

Nothing had prepared Sango for this. Her slayer training had involved plenty of courses on treating injuries in the field, and the lifestyle offered plenty of chanced to put it into practice. In addition, she had been given plenty of instruction from Kagome on how to use her modern medical supplies. However, none of this factored in providing self-medical care while severely injured, nor having to prioritize doing so over a close companion even more injured than she was.

Knowing she would be no good Miroku if she passed out from blood loss, Sango gritted her teeth, pulled the first aid kit off Kirara, and immediately got to work on herself. First she took a few special tablets ("pain killers" according to Kagome) and gulped them down with a swig of water from a canteen. Then she started bandaging up her leg. It took a huge amount of medical tape and guase, but she was finally able to get the wound sealed.

Next, Sango washed the blood off her face and went to work bandaging the gash in her forehead. Thankfully it had already stopped bleeding, and a quick application of a proper bandage took care of it. With the major injuries treated, she decided to ignore everything else and get to work on Kirara, who she happily discovered had mostly superficial wounds. They took less than a few minutes to handle before she could turn her full attention to Miroku.

"Well here we go. This is really going to take some effort..."

It was nearly an hour later when Miroku awoke to the feeling of dampness on his face. As his vision slowly returned into focus, he could see it was Sango sitting on the ground next to him and wiping the the last traces of blood away with a wet rag. Behind her, Kirara was curled up and resting nearby, still in her full-sized form.

"Sango...is everything okay?" He asked drearily, alerting her to the fact he was awake.

Sango responded with a dim smile. "Well I'd like to think so. Zanshin is dead and our hunt is over. But you tell me, Miroku. How are you feeling?"

As Miroku gained full control of his senses, he was able to perform a self-assessment. He was still in a sitting up position with his back propped up against a tree. His broken left arm had been properly set and splinted. It was now resting across his body in a makeshift sling Sango had put together from broken sticks and material she had ripped from the sleeve of his robe, while his robe was pulled open from the waist up, exposing many bandaged cuts and bruises on his torso. Miroku's broken ribs and strained knee ligaments still throbbed with pain, and there was little Sango could do for them, but everything else had been patched up and treated as effectively as possible.

"Well I doubt I'll be participating in athletic contests anytime soon." he replied sarcastically. "But altogether I'd say you did a magnificent job. Looks like I owe you once again."

Sango had to hold back laughter at this. "How can you say that after all we have been through? You don't owe me anything. You've clearly given me your all."

"But it wasn't good enough," Miroku bitterly replied while lowering his head. "I'm sorry Sango, I couldn't protect you in the end."

"You mean these?" She asked, pointing to her heavily bandaged leg and forehead, both of which had small amounts of blood showing through on the surface. "Think nothing of them. I told you neither one of us would get through this unscathed. Besides, after all the injuries you've suffered on my account, I'd almost feel guilty if I did."

"This isn't funny, Sango," said Miroku, with a serious tone to back up his point. "That's not what I meant. I couldn't handle him. Despite everything I poured into the fight, and how close I got to victory. Zanshin was just too much. It was simply luck that you recovered in time."

"You call that luck? Miroku, you held off one of greatest demon warriors who ever lived for longer than I ever could have imagined. No matter how hard he pounded you and how long the battle dragged on, you just kept fighting. That's the only reason I was able to recover in time. I simply couldn't ask for more."

"I suppose," Miroku sighed. "But that's hardly satisfying. I had to simply watch the final part of the battle. Watch you nearly get killed multiple times over, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. Do you have any idea how horrible that was?"

Sango finished wiping the last of the blood off Miroku's face and tossed the rag away. "Well at least you got to see me in action. I really wish I could have seen you, instead of spending the whole time in darkness or a blurry haze. But let me tell you the one thing I did see. I saw Zanshin on the ground, wailing in agony at the hands of a man who was almost completely disabled. Let me tell you Miroku, that was one of the most inspiring things I ever saw. If anything was responsible for pulling me back into the fight , that was it. I may have struck that final blow, but it was every bit as much your victory as mine, and I don't ever want you thinking otherwise."

Now Miroku was beaming. "Ah Sango, you always did have a way with words. When you put it that way, I suppose there is nothing to dispute."

"Not at all," replied Sango pleasantly. "Miroku, I've always admired the protective side of you. You just need to understand it goes both ways. Seeing you getting beaten to the brink of death wasn't something I was prepared for, not matter how much I tried to. But I got through it, just like you. We did it together. Ever since we first met, you've proven yourself to me time and time again. Your devotion isn't in question here. The only question that remains is how often you'll be willing to go through events like this again."

Now Miroku was laughing. "Again? Isn't it a bit early for that? And many old enemies in need of vanquishing do you have left?"

"You know full well I didn't mean anything now," Sango countered, though she could easily detect his sarcasm. Then her tone became far more serious. "I just mean these types of quests in general. This is my life. Demon slaying is what I was born to do, and no matter what happens between us, no matter how many children we have, no matter how big our family gets, it's always going to be a part of it. And I'm going to keep it up until I can't do it anymore. Can you accept that, Miroku? A life with me knowing the possibilities you might have to face in the future?"

"Sango my dear, you should have known you don't even have to ask," Miroku replied without hesitation. "I've always known that ever since you first accepted my proposal. That's why I never brought the issue up before. It wasn't neglect or shortsightedness. It was something I've been ready for all along. After all, If you're willing to accept a hopeless swindling lecher like me, then it's the least I can do in return."

"Well I guess everything's resolved then," said Sango as she knelt down next to him and handed him a water flask. She knew her response was rather underwhelming, but the manner in which they had stumbled into this topic had left her unprepared. "I'll tell you one thing I regret though. In spite the time we've had together on this adventure, and the great things we've accomplished, we won't be getting through this with anything but our lives."

"Why Sango, that doesn't sound like you at all," said Miroku as he finished taking a gulp of water. "Looks like my sense of materialism is also contagious."

Sango sighed. "I didn't mean money. I just would have liked some recognition from at least someone besides us. This was the most grueling and epic hunt I've ever been on. It's the type of thing that would have earned us a grand festival or ceremony back home. But there won't be any of that now. We're the only ones who will even know what took place."

"Maybe so, but that still means a lot. At least it does to me." Miroku finished drinking from the flask and tossed it aside. As he did, a sudden thought occurred to him that might help cheer her up. "Say...Sango, remember when I said I'd prefer you came up with some less traumatic bedtime stories for our children?"

It seemed like an eternity ago, but Sango still remembered it well. "Yes...what of it?"

"Well this can be the exception. We did something incredible here. All the things we've been through, all the experiences we shared. I'm glad I got to do it with you alone. And I'll be proud to share it with our children when the time is right."

"Well I have a feeling you'll take some creative liberties when you tell the tale," Sango replied skeptically. But even as she said this, she began to see his point. It had been an amazing journey full of incredible experiences they had shared together; certainly not what most couples would consider quality time, but it didn't matter. That was what made her and Miroku unique. She would treasure this journey every bit as much as he did, and it would make for a great story to share with the next generation.

Suddenly, Sango scooted closer to Miroku and a devious expression flashed across her face. "Say...Miroku? Remember when I told you how most of my demon hunts didn't end?"

Miroku did recall that part of the conversation too, but he couldn't quite comprehend the significance. "Umm well, I suppose..."

"Let's make an exception from that rule too."

Without any warning, Sango was upon him, wrapping her arms around Miroku and bringing her lips crashing onto his. It was so surprising that Miroku couldn't even process what she had been referring too before he was completely engulfed in her kiss, but his lecherous nature enabled him to easily make up for lost time. Using his one good arm, he immediately pulled her in and returned the favor.

And it only got better from there. For this time it seemed Sango was not satisfied stopping at one. She continued to kiss him over and over, with such an intensity that Miroku could barely keep up.

"By the gods, I love this," Miroku thought to himself. He could hardly believe how fast their relationship was moving. At this rate, perhaps it would not be too long before Sango was a lecher in her own right. But there was no time to think of such things, for he was focused on the moment and the next step. Perhaps he was overplaying his hand, but if Sango was going to completely abandon her sense of restraint, Miroku decided he might as well follow her lead. He quickly slid his right hand down her back all the way to her bottom and firmly caressed it, fully prepared to receive whatever retribution Sango would dish out in response.

Only this time, there was none. Instead, Sango moaned with pleasure continued to go at him without breaking stride. In fact, she was progressing, and for the first time he found her hands running over his body. "N-no slap this time?" Miroku asked as soon as the first pause was available.

"Nah, I think everything you've had to endure recently is punishment enough," Sango replied sarcastically. "Feel free to indulge yourself."

Miroku was all too happy to play along. "This long adventure, all the traveling, all the battles...that's what I had to go through to earn it?"

Sango continued to laugh. "Well there were more conventional ways it could have been done, but in this case I suppose that's how it turned out. Does that upset you?"

"Not at all. It was absolutely worth it," Miroku happily replied. Then he pulled Sango back in close, planted his lips over hers, and picked up right where they left off, immensely tightening his grip on her rear in the process. Indeed, his only regret was his current inability to use both hands.

Sango's mind was buzzing with activity. Even as they continued go at it, she knew they should stop soon. That they should wait to take it any farther. Sex was simply too great a risk while Naraku still had to be defeated and Miroku still bore the curse of the wind tunnel. And yet...the situation was simply too perfect. Everything felt like it was going exactly as it should be. The pain and aches from her recent battle seemed completely banished from her body. The moment just seemed right. There was nothing holding them back. Nothing in the way. No-

"AAARRGGGGGHHHH!"

Nothing except crippling injuries, which became apparent when Sango, caught up in the moment, accidentally put the full weight of her body against Miroku's broken arm and ribs. He immediately bellowed out a terrible scream of agony, causing Sango to jump off him backwards in horror, while behind her Kirara snapped up awake and alert with her paws ablaze, quickly scanning the area for threats.

"Miroku! Oh god I'm sorry! I completely forgot about that! Are you alright?" Sango asked, fearing she had just added several months to his recovery time.

Clutching his injured arm and panting heavily, Miroku did his best to save face. "No, no...it's okay...I'll be fine. J-just...give...m-me..a...moment."

For a few minutes, Sango could do nothing but nervously look on while he recovered. As soon as he felt well enough, he immediately spoke up to calm her down. "Okay...I'm fine now...everything's fine. We can resume. Just try to avoid the broken bones from now on."

"What?"

"Well we certainly can't let a minor inconvenience drive us apart," he explained.

Sango responded with a confused look. "Ummm Miroku, don't you think that was a clear sign we should stop now?"

"Oh not at all," Miroku shot back defensively. "I'll manage. All you have to do is-"

Sango stood up and brushed herself off. "Look, I admire your resilience, but-"

"Oh come on, where's that fighting spirit? After all we've been through, surely we can find a way to get over this."

"Miroku!" Sango tired to sound angry, but Miroku could see she was about to burst with laughter. "I'm not going to get intimate with you under these conditions! I'm still in a lot of pain here, and you're so badly crippled you can barely move!"

"But that doesn't have to stop us," Miroku protested. "From my years of traveling throughout the land, I've discovered all sorts of things that can help make up for our ailments and lack of mobility. For example, there was this one technique I learned in a Kyoto brothel-"

"MIROKU!"

"Oh fine..." Miroku sighed in disappointment. "Ah, to enjoy such moments of bliss but still denied the ultimate fulfillment. Oh great Buhdda, why must you test me so?"

Once again, a devious look appeared on Sango's face. "Just consider it a prize waiting for you at the end of your eventual recovery."

This immediately changed Miroku's mood. "Sango my dear, I swear you'll accelerate my convalescence better than any magic or medicine ever could."

Sango merely smiled. "I had a feeling that would do the trick. Now we need to gather our things. We've lingered here long enough."

Sango spent the next several minutes going painfully around the battleground with Kirara collecting her discarded weaponry, a formidable task considering where they all ended up and the fact that it still hurt to walk. Each one reflected the same condition as their owner: Bloody and maimed. Her Hiraikotsu was particularly worn down, with holes still showing from the gunshots in Natsumi's inn and numerous cracks.

"Guess Miroku and I are not the only things out here that will need to recover."

Sango also picked the one remaining functional pistol Zanshin had carried. Her experience with them had shown these dynamic new weapons were most devastating, and perhaps she could put it to good use in the future, even if at the moment she had no additional shot or powder, and only the most basic knowledge of how it operated. At the very least, it would make a fine war trophy. Finally, she collected the two halves of Miroku's broken staff and headed back.

"Sango, why bother bringing that along?" Asked Miroku as he saw her load the last of their weapons and supplies onto Kirara. "That staff will never serve me again. There's no way I can fix it."

"Now Miroku, after all the damage you did with this thing, how could you think of discarding it?" Sango responded as she finished up and made her way over to him. "You might not be able to fix it, but Totosai can. Just wait. He'll have it ready by the time your wounds heal, and it will be better than ever."

"Totosai?" Miroku asked doubtfully. "Don't be ridiculous. A master blacksmith like him would never bother with such a simple weapon. There's no way he'll ever agree to work on it."

"Oh I think he will...once he hears me describe all the ways I'm going to torture him to death if he doesn't."

Miroku laughed when he heard this. "Sango, have told you recently how much I love you?"

"Ineed you have," Sango replied happily while reaching down to help him up. "But I'll never get tired of hearing it."

The final phase of their departure, helping Miroku get to and get on Kirara, turned out to be the most difficult, with both their injuries proving a major hinderence. Indeed, the sight of them making their way over to Kirara would be considered comical to most observers: A severely crippled man being led along by a moderately less crippled woman. Eventually though, they managed to climb onboard and prepared to head out.

"Okay Kirara, let's go," said Sango, gently rubbing Kirara's head. "Take us home...assuming we still have a home to go back to."

Miroku did his best to calm her nerves. "Don't worry, Sango. Even if Naraku did assault Keade's village, I'm sure they drove him back. You know full well we left it good hands."

Sango merely sighed as Kirara started to ascend. "I know we did Miroku. I believe in them...but only time will tell."

Author's Note: Well I hope you all enjoyed my second attempt at a romance scene. Also, in case you forgot the conversation they were referring too before that, it was back at the opening of chapter 5.