Miroku became aware of sound hovering over his head.

– roku-sama, can you hear me? Thank goodness, I thought you were de –

He frowned; Miroku was not expecting the afterlife to be this polite, not after all the sins he had committed in his life. "Mmmpgh," he said. Funny. If I'm dead, I shouldn't be feeling pain from my wounds.

– ound you. Inuyasha smelt something and we ca –

Inuyasha? That's strange. As far as he knew, the hanyou was alive and well. Miroku gritted his teeth. So he was still alive, and that meant...

Sango!

Memories began flooding back; his right hand throbbed. An experimental movement of the fingers caused painful tightness so he left it alone. At least he could still move his left hand... Getting up was definitely out of the question; so was talking. He was reasonably sure Kagome and Inuyasha had saved him – perhaps they would look for Sango soon.

Miroku exhaled. His head still hurt from all that blood loss, and it was tiring just keeping up the flow of thoughts. Not to mention the voice hovering overhead.

I'm sorry, Sango...

He let go.

Kagome stopped talking. "He fell asleep again."

Inuyasha snorted. "Well, what were you expecting? Damn monk nearly bled to death out there."

"How can you be so callous, Inuyasha?" she demanded hotly. "Miroku-sama almost died and that's all you can say?"

The hanyou took a deep breath, before continuing in a surprisingly gentle tone. "He won't, because we got to him in time. Myouga-jiji showed up and left some blood-replenishing potion. Miroku's going to be fine."

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Inuyasha." Kagome uncapped the bottle of crimson liquid and trickled a little into Miroku's mouth. "It's just – so many things have been happening, and now this – " Her breath hitched.

"Hey, you're not going to cry again, are you?" He leaned forward, a panicky look on his face.

"No," she said shakily, mopping at her face. "I've no reason too. Miroku-sama's going to be just fine, we got there in time. There's absolutely no reason for me to cry."

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, ignoring Kagome's quiet sniffles. "Good."

There was silence as Kagome focused on pouring the potion down Miroku's throat.

"We were really lucky Myouga-jii-san happened to show up," she said eventually. "I don't think my medicines would have been enough..."

"Damned flea shows up only when he's really needed – and disappears when there's danger," remarked Inuyasha. "But I never thought I'd actually be grateful he chose to appear today." Kagome smiled, recognizing the closest her gruff hanyou would ever get to gratitude for his father's old retainer.

Miroku swallowed half a bottle convulsively; the rest trickled over his face. She wiped it up with a washcloth.

"Inuyasha..."

One ear swiveled from Miroku to her. "Yeah?"

"If Miroku-sama's like... this, I'm worried about Sango-chan and Kohaku-kun... Can you go and check on them?" She turned pleading eyes on him. "I'll stay here and look after Miroku-sama."

"Keh. You don't need to ask me." He was already getting to his feet, sliding Tetsusaiga into his belt. "I'll be back in a while."

If she had not asked him, Inuyasha would have gone anyway the instant he got a chance. Coupling the events of the previous afternoon with Miroku's horrific wounds...

He was not ready to tell Kagome – though he suspected she knew – the wounds were in the shape of Kohaku's kusari-gama.

Sango took a deep breath and stood up straight. "What do you mean, Kohaku?"

He got to his feet as well, brushing dirt off his knees. "Just what I said. I don't think Houshi-sama is coming back."

"Why...?'

The younger slayer shot her an intense look. She struggled to think back to the previous night, forcing the physical memories down along with her bile, back to the conversation...

"Your clothes," she said at last. "They were covered with blood – and your face. Youkai don't leave those kind of marks..."

Sango gasped, swaying unsteadily. Her thoughts unscattered by alcohol, she was able to see straight –

"Kohaku, you – Miroku – oh, gods – "

His eyes shifted sideways, demeanor nonchalant.

Wildly she attacked, barely able to see where she was going because of the tears that filled her eyes. Why had she drank? Why did not she see the truth before it was too late? Why had she willingly blinded herself?

Kohaku seized her wrists effortlessly, pinning her against the wall of the hut. "Don't, Ane-ue. You don't want to fight me."

She was sobbing, cursing, kicking at him. "Miroku – what did you do to him – gods – no – "

He leaned forward, his hot breath caressing her ear. "I took care of him. He won't be able to interfere with us anymore."

"Bastard!"

Kohaku raised his eyebrows. "Surely you can't be telling me this isn't what you wanted? You've never rejected me when I showed you how I truly felt about you, Ane-ue." His voice dropped to a low whisper. "Especially not last night."

"... Who are you?" Wild, terrified eyes stared into the young man's. "You aren't Kohaku."

Miroku knew – and I ignored him.

"Why does everyone say that?" he asked with an incredulous laugh. "I'm your little brother, Ane-ue. Kohaku. We grew up together in the slayers' village. I was enslaved by Naraku and you fought to save me."

"That's everything I've told you over the past few months since you woke up!" she shot back, the terror gradually being replaced by anger.

"I've lost all my memories," he said softly in her ear. "I suffered so much under Naraku's control. I told Houshi-sama everything, but yet he didn't understand." He touched his cheek to hers; she flinched. "Won't you understand, Ane-ue?"

Tears of fear, helpless rage and sheer helplessness itself flowed down her cheeks. Sango wanted to lash out but the sight of that familiar face held her back; no matter how monstrous he had become, she still could not bring herself to hurt him. Not even when Miroku's life hung in the balance.

It shamed her.

"Let go of her, bastard!"

Inuyasha sprang out of nowhere and seized Kohaku by his collar, pulling him away from Sango. Boneless, she slumped to the ground.

"Sango, are you alright?" asked the hanyou. She nodded.

Kohaku twisted out of Inuyasha's grip and backed up, rubbing his neck. "That hurt," he observed.

"Fuck you," he replied, drawing Tetsusaiga. "I knew there wasn't something right with you all along."

"Me?" Kohaku spread his hands. "But I don't reek of Naraku. How can I be possessed?"

"Screw that. You don't need to be controlled by Naraku to be evil." The hanyou glanced over at Sango. "Get up, Sango – what the fuck's wrong with you? Why haven't you beaten the crap out of this bastard yet?" She bit her lip, forcing herself upright and glaring at Inuyasha until he was forced to look away.

The younger taijiya stared fondly at her. "You're interrupting my conversation with Ane-ue, Inuyasha-sama."

He snorted. "Conversation, my ass. You were forcing her against the damned wall." Kohaku opened his mouth and stepped forward, only to halt as Tetsusaiga's point was leveled at his throat. "Not another step, bastard. Not after what you did to Miroku."

Sango's head snapped up. "Miroku?" She lurched forward; Inuyasha caught her awkwardly around the waist, his cheeks turning pink.

Kohaku growled. "Take your hand off her."

She ignored him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Inuyasha, where's Miroku? Is he alright? Is he – "

He avoided her gaze. "He's alive," Inuyasha said bluntly. "But just barely. If I hadn't picked up Naraku's scent, and rushed there in time, he wouldn't be."

"Naraku?"

The younger man's lip twisted. "That's impossible. I didn't do anything, didn't leave it behind..." His hands roamed over his clothes, feeling for the little jar –

"Looking for this?" Inuyasha held it up between two claws; the seal was broken through. "You dropped it beside Miroku."

He fell silent. "I don't know how the hell you managed to get that," he said at last, "but fine. So the monk lives to womanize another day. It doesn't matter."

Sango stared blankly at him. "Kohaku?" she asked, sounding years younger. Her brother looked away.

"He couldn't understand. I was just punishing him for what he did to you all these years, Ane-ue – he hurt you. He played with your feelings." The hard lines of his forehead softened. "You didn't deserve to suffer like that."

Her breath caught in her throat; deathly pale, she looked like she was going to collapse if Inuyasha was not supporting her.

"I only did what I had to!" He paced like a caged tiger; Inuyasha's eyes followed every movement. Stopping in front of his sister, the feral look softened.

"I did it for you, Ane-ue. Everything was for you."

She flinched as though slapped in the face. Kohaku's jaw tightened; he drew back.

"Get the hell away from her," barked Inuyasha. "You've done enough. Leave, before I kill you."

"Sure, puppy," leered the younger slayer. "You wouldn't kill anyone; that irksome sense of honour prevents you. And really, do you think Ane-ue would stand by and watch her only little brother be murdered before her eyes?"

It was testament to how much he had changed that he did not snap at the taunt. Inuyasha merely looked darkly murderous – an expression he had been wearing for the past hour. His hand, however, tightened around Tetsusaiga's hilt.

"I should've killed you earlier when I had the chance," snarled the hanyou, "and spared everyone the trouble."

"You should've – but you didn't." There was a manic gleam in his eyes; every instinct in Inuyasha was warning him away. "You're weak, halfbreed. That priestess made you soft."

This time, it was the hanyou who stepped forward, claws raised, ready to disembowel Kohaku – and Sango the one to stop him, her hands fisted in his clothes.

"Sango."

She nodded, knowing what was about to come. Her lip was trembling. "But I can't."

His voice was almost gentle. "Sango, this isn't Kohaku any more."

"But still..." Her fingers clenched tighter. Kohaku only smirked in the background.

His hand went to her shoulder and gripped it tightly. "Get real, Sango. This asshole nearly killed Miroku and you're still protecting him?"

"There can't be any mistake... he's really my brother..."

The hanyou made an irritated sound. "Feh. Have it your way, you stupid woman." Prying Sango's hands off, he seized a length of rope from the house. The younger slayer made no attempt to free himself, merely smirking as he was disarmed and bound.

"We're going back to Kaede's village, Kagome'll be worried. Since you won't let me kill him, he comes too." He slung Kohaku over one shoulder and motioned at his back. "Climb on."

"Ane-ue."

Now and then, Inuyasha would break his stride to jump or duck and Sango would be jolted. The wind roared ceaselessly in her ears. Even with that, it was difficult to ignore him.

Kohaku – KohakuKohakuKohaku – lifted his head to look at her, his voice pleading. "Ane-ue."

She buried her face in Inuyasha's shoulder and pretended not to notice.

The young man's lips curved into a smile. "I know you can hear me, Ane-ue. You're doing what you used to do when Father was looking for us, and we would hide from him."

He was no brother of hers, and yet...

"You aren't my brother," she rasped. "You're not Kohaku." But her voice was faint and easily lost on the wind.

"Then why do I know so much?" He cocked his head, fully confident. "Why am I remembering things – about you, about me, about our village?"

"... Lies."

"Oh no." Kohaku narrowed his eyes. "I know, and it's killing you. That and what we did. But, my sister, you can't pretend Father never told you."

Sango's fingers dug into Inuyasha's clothes and he made a growl of complaint. Hot tears leaked out, staining the red haori a darker shade.

"The slayers' tribe must go on," he said in that sibilant voice she had come to fear so much, "no matter what happens. We are the children of the chief; we have to preserve the bloodline no matter what."

The older slayer's head snapped up; he laughed at the stricken look there.

"I was listening that day, your sixteenth birthday. Father had called you in for an important meeting, but I wasn't about to leave for the river without you."

"He knew things would never come to that," Sango interjected sharply, some of the fire reentering her gaze. "Father was only telling me of the long-forgotten ancient custom of our people because I had come of age."

"Where are our people then?" Kohaku demanded. "Who else survived? Do you want our people, our way of life to die with us?"

"It will not. We can rebuild, pass on our father's teachings..." She lowered her eyes. "We were about to, before you – "

Kohaku laughed harshly. "What, teach flea-bitten refugees the arts of demon slaying? Don't tell me, you were going to use the monk to pass on our bloodline?"

She bit her lip – Kohaku's head rocked back from the force of the slap. A trickle of blood ran from his cut lip.

"It's wrong, no matter how you look at it. A sin."

He glanced elsewhere coolly. "You may think of it as you please."