InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ All My Little Words ❯ Chapter Three: Your Own Devices ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. I own a very talkative dog. If you sue me, you'll get him, and he'll wake you up at three in the morning. Yeah. How do ya like THAT?

Summary: The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don't know ourselves. The gang faces a new threat from Naraku - one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships.

Chapter Summary: Sango angsts, and everyone dreams. Also, Kouga gets embarrassed over the SILLIEST things.

Spoilers: Very late in the manga. Basically an AU continuation of the series beginning at the end of manga volume 33, chapter 326. Why? I don't like rats. I'm avoiding them.

Warnings: Haha! Darkfic and unresolved sexual tension are like bread and butter to me. This fic deals with some dark themes, and has more pairings, both canon and non-canon, than you'd be wise to shake a stick at. Yes. Lots and lots of pairings, some blatant, some implied. If you're looking for fluffy Inu/Kag action, this is not the place for you.

Credits: The title comes from the song All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields. It seemed appropriate.



"Now she's falling hard,
feels the fall of dark...
How did this fall apart?"
- Dave Matthews Band, The Dreaming Tree

***

Sango peered at the youkai sitting on the ground and staring at a patch of dirt as though it held the secret to getting stringy meat out of one's teeth, but she refrained from speaking to him - he looked as if he had enough on his mind already. His thick black eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, and his blue eyes seemed to have darkened with whatever thoughts he was entertaining as his nimble hands absently shredded the small, hapless weeds that had been unlucky enough to grow where he chose to sit. If she didn't know that the wolf prince was confident to a fault, she would have thought that he was mad with himself for his actions, but that seemed silly. Even if he was angry with himself, he would never show it. Sango yawned, and tried to turn her attention to something that might be more amusing; watching Kouga decimate the local weed population and mope like a kicked puppy wasn't her idea of a good time.

She only had to turn her head slightly to catch a glimpse of something more interesting. Seemingly by accident, she let her gaze fall on Miroku, a gesture which she found herself doing more and more often lately, even though the object of her attentions made her more and more confused inside. Off to the side, the monk was pulling his calm Buddha act and sitting several yards away with Shippou slumped next to him on the ground, but Sango could tell he was brooding about something - his back was rigid and the slope of his shoulders was hard and angry.

Her fingers itched, and she fought back the sensations that were becoming less insistent and more confusing as time passed. When she had been a demon hunter in her old village, she would comfort and coax her brother back into good cheer when he was upset or angry, and now she was feeling the same urges toward her frustrating monk. She wanted to run her hand down that back and soothe away the tension that so obviously haunted him, wanted to knead the quivering, rigid line of muscle across his shoulders into something softer, more upstanding. There was just something about him that urged her to fold him into contentment, mold him into relaxation. A quick glance at his face told her he was sternly meditating on a problem, although she was not privileged to know what was troubling him. She'd do a lot to make that face melt into a boyish, innocent smile, even when the wearer was anything but innocent.

Sango shook her head, as if to clear her mind of such foolish thoughts, because she was mad at him. And it was getting increasingly easy for her to remember why.

Men, she thought, trying not to let her annoyance show on her face. She really was upset with him, and for a good reason, too - he hadn't mentioned their recent "understanding" since it had been forged, but she wanted to talk to him about it, especially to extract a promise to quit his wandering ways, which he had yet to do. Something held her back though, and she had yet to gather up her courage to approach him. He seemed blissfully unaware of her discomfort concerning their relationship, but there were so many things that confused her, so many questions she wanted to ask him, like why couldn't he commit, even after proposing? What was their status now? How should she treat him? How should he treat her? Should she wait for him to make the first move? Technically, she supposed he'd made a thousand moves, but at the time it was under the guise of horny male. She wondered if now it was her turn to start copping a feel whenever the opportunity presented itself. Would he be any different? Would he ever reserve himself for her, or would she always be the main woman of his life while keeping another on the side?

Somehow, to Sango, that seemed a lot like being second best.

The exterminator groaned inwardly. The real question she needed to be asking was: why was she so brave in battle and such a coward when it came to this? It was intensely aggravating. Sango resolved not to think about it.

Too much.

She turned back to Kouga, who had gotten a bit more interesting in the past few minutes, and was currently valiantly ignoring the questions with which his two companions were pelting him. Sango listened absently for a few moments, and determined that the queries basically boiled down to: where did you go? and who were you with? Hakkaku was clucking like a mother hen and inspecting his leader for damage caused by the object of his ardour, quite determined despite Kouga's half-hearted attempts to bat him away. It was amusing to watch them paw at each other. Still, in the whirlwind of questions, Sango could hear that they were each dancing around the question she knew they wanted to ask but were too polite - or scared of randomized wrath - to ask.

Did you get anywhere with her? Honestly, it was like every man, deep down inside, was twelve years old.

Shifting her Hiraikotsu thoughtfully, Sango cocked her head to the side. It would be a useful question to ask. Then she would know whether or not to crack his fool head open for taking advantage of Kagome-chan, or to just be magnanimous about the whole thing. Unlike Inuyasha, she didn't have any real vested interest in Kagome-chan's suitors other than her friend's future happiness, and so anything that didn't directly harm her was probably all right. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell if Kouga was reticent due to being such a gentleman, or because he was afraid of Inuyasha's rage, or maybe some other reason entirely, and subsequently she didn't know how to react to what had happened. No doubt Kagome-chan would tell her later, but if she wanted to be effective in doling out punishment, she should probably get it in before Kouga left. She had a hard time envisioning Kouga forcing himself on Kagome in any way simply because he always seemed so concerned for her safety, but she had to admit she didn't really know the wolf youkai that well. It was hard figuring out his motivations, although from what she had seen of him his motives probably weren't either of the two reasons to which she had given mental voice - he was more brash than refined, and more likely to pick a fight than avoid one. He was like Inuyasha, in a way, but also somehow different.

Sango leaned against a tree in order to let her body rest a little bit, and studied him, enjoying the slight puzzle he presented. Absentmindedly, she stroked Kirara, who purred contentedly in the crook of her arm.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed Ginta lifting his head to the air and inhaling deeply before turning to his pack leader.

"Ne, Kouga," he said, giving Kouga a quick punch to the shoulder. The wolf prince swatted his hand away irritation ingrained in the gesture itself.

"What?" he said grumpily, his tone of voice suggesting that whatever it was, it had better be good, because by god, he was ready to drown himself - or a suitable substitute, quite possibly even Ginta - in a lake.

"Er..." Ginta paused. Sango noted that there was a certain struggle carried out behind his eyes. In fact, it seemed to be an eternal struggle: to make his suggestion and risk a smack to the back of the head, or to let it go and let Kouga do whatever he wanted? A stray thought suggested that Kouga probably did what he wanted anyway, regardless of what his two companions thought, but it was just an impression. Perhaps he did listen to them on occasion. When no one else was looking.

Ginta appeared to arrive at a conclusion and opened his mouth again. "Shouldn't we leave before Inuyasha gets back?" he said, and then winced preemptively.

His wince, which had been rather impressive, Sango reflected, was not wasted.

"Baka!" Kouga sneered, bringing his hand into sound contact with Ginta's crown. "Why should I run away? I haven't done anything wrong."

Hakkaku, looking pained but resigned, leaned in. "He'll be back with Kagome," he said in a low voice, and squeezed his eyes shut, waited for the inevitable blow.

Which didn't come. Sango was as surprised as Hakkaku looked, while Ginta just stared enviously at his friend and rubbed his head. Kouga just had a thoughtful expression on his face, and...

Sango looked closer, wondering if she was imagining things - but no! There was a distinct coloring to his cheeks. She raised her eyebrows and marvelled at one of the many things she thought she'd never see: the cocky wolf prince, fighting back a blush.

She briefly wondered what memory of his time with Kagome could make him red in the face, decided she didn't like any of the answers that she came up with, and raised a hand to Hiraikotsu.

Abruptly, Kouga stood. "You're right," he said, voice brimming with authority. "We should leave."

Sango cleared her throat preparing to tell him to stay put for just a few more moments when Miroku cut her off.

"And why do you not want to see Kagome-sama again?" he asked, glaring at the wolf youkai from his benign meditative posture. To Sango it seemed like his voice was hard as granite. She swallowed. It was probably just her imagination; she was so used to hearing his voice in its normal soft, lilting tones that when he used it to convey anger it just sounded inordinately harsh.

Kouga, for his part, looked uncomfortable, and shifted slightly from one foot to the other, as though he wanted to just run away. His voice, however, emerged with confidence Sango was positive he didn't necessarily feel. "That's none of your business, houshi," he retorted, tossing his head slightly so that his long, black queue flipped insolently from one shoulder to the other. The air around the little group, so free before, had suddenly become thick with tension and repressed anger.

Miroku did not reply right away; instead, he took his time, slowly pushing himself up from the ground and getting to his feet in a manner so leisurely that Sango would have sworn he wasn't upset at all. It was only because she knew him that she could see he was quite angry. Nonchalantly, he dusted off his robes with his right hand, a move no doubt calculated to bring the observer's eye to his sealed right hand. Finally he looked Kouga in the eye.

"Yes, it is. You abandon your comrades, abduct Kagome-sama, she defends herself for whatever reason, and now you are a little too eager to leave, as if you are embarrassed by your conduct and do not wish to confront her again. Am I not correct?" he said. Under the normal cadence of his voice, Sango could hear the thread of cold steel running through his words. For the first time, she was beginning to be truly concerned for Kagome - what exactly did the monk think had transpired between the wolf prince and her friend?

Kouga looked flabbergasted. He took one step forward in a posture that Sango recognized as one that asserted dominance, and balled his hands into fists. "Whatever you're thinking, it's wrong," he said, a snarl in his throat.

Sango decided it was time for her to step forward. "Kouga," she said, not softly, but not as hard as Miroku had spoken, "what did you do to Kagome-chan?" She hefted her boomerang slightly, her eyes trained on the youkai.

"Nothing!" Kouga turned his back on them. "I just wanted to talk to her! That's all."

Giving a snort of disdain, the monk raised his right hand. "Kouga, if you are lying, I will suck you up into this kazanaa and you will be unable to see Kagome-chan for the rest of your short life."

There was a slight but perceptible hunching of Kouga's shoulders, though if Sango had not been looking she would have missed it. The wolf prince mumbled something.

"What was that?" Sango asked sharply, taking a step forward.

Kouga sighed dramatically and turned to look at her over his shoulder. "I said, I wanted her to come with me. I didn't touch her - " he shot a look of contempt at Miroku, " - but I insisted... and she just didn't want to come. So she knocked me flat," he finished, sounding somewhat rueful.

Frowning, Sango mulled this bit of information over in her mind, setting Hiraikotsu in the soft earth and leaning on it so that Kouga would see that she wasn't a threat.

Miroku looked as confused as she felt. "What are you talking about?" he blurted. "Why would you be embarrassed that you asked Kagome-sama to accompany you? You do that every other week."

"I know that!" Kouga snapped, then immediately subsided. "It's just... it was different this time."

Miroku stared, while Sango mulled the puzzle over in her mind. "You mean..." she ventured, "you didn't ask her to be your, ah, woman this time?" Perhaps she had spent too much time with that lecherous monk, but this particular scenario was the only one she could think of. Sango wished she could scrub her brain, and shot a particularly dirty look at Miroku. Miroku caught it and looked mildly hurt.

Kouga looked, if anything, even more uncomfortable. "No, I didn't," he said with an air of finality. He turned slightly and sniffed the air. "And now I have to go." With that, he dug into the earth and took off in what Sango assumed was the opposite direction of Inuyasha and Kagome's approach. Ginta and Hakkaku lingered behind in his dust, each rather slumped at the prospect of following him, but in the end decided to give chase.

"Tell nee-san we were sorry to miss her," Hakkaku called as they both began their tired run, trailing after their pack leader.

Staring after them, Sango could only nod her assent, even though they couldn't see her. And now she was left alone with Miroku and Shippou. As she sank down to the ground for a rest, one of her hands lifted of its own accord and began to stroke Kirara, who had relocated to her shoulder. Petting Kirara always made her feel better when she was anxious or nervous, and Sango didn't think she could take much time alone with Miroku right now.

"What was that look for?" Miroku asked, no doubt allowing just the slightest bit of hurt into his voice. Just to let her know he felt downtrodden. She ignored him and ran her fingers through Kirara's fur. The cat youkai purred.

"Ne, Sango..."

Always persistent, she thought. She had to give him that. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze and let it fall on him, feeling her heart skip a beat, just like it did every time she saw him. Damn it. Damn her stupid, romantic soul, and her stupid notions. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She vaguely wondered if she would end up like Kagome-chan, accepting the status of second best just to be near someone she loved. Not that there was anything really wrong with that... Kagome-chan knew what she was doing, and had made her choice long ago. But still...

"Sango?"

Sango realized she had been rudely staring off into space, and blinked several times to bring her eyes back into focus. "Gomen," she said quickly. "I was thinking of something else, houshi-sama."

Miroku just looked at her oddly, but nodded his head before settling back against a tree, looking distinctly more relaxed. He did not press her for an answer, for which Sango was rather grateful.

It was only a minute in the silence of the forest before the sounds of something crashing through the trees became clear. A few moments later and the voices of Inuyasha and Kagome could be heard, arguing as usual. Sango suppressed a smile.

Crash. Snap. "Why can't you tell me now, Kagome?"

"Because!" Bang. Crunch. "I don't want to have to repeat myself!"

Falling tree. "Tell me, dammit!"

A second later and Inuyasha fell through the canopy above, touching down gently in the small clearing. Kagome clambered off his back, brushing leaves and twigs off her uniform, and gave an audible sigh as she looked around the clearing.

"Does anyone have my bow and arrows? I feel naked without them!" she asked, gently dislodging a small bird's nest from her hair. Sango tried to ignore the choking sound from Miroku, and Shippou ignored them all and leapt straight into Kagome's arms. Kagome laughed.

Sango was struck with a severe sense of vertigo. The world seemed to be tipping on its end, and even though she should be nursing deja vu, instead it seemed that this time, this particular incident was different, and it felt like someone had poured ice water over her brain, dripping down the walls of her skull, trickling down the inside of her neck -

She blinked, and the feeling was gone, so completely that she wondered if she had even experienced it at all. But she still felt cold. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her arms through the cloth covering them, and spoke what they were all thinking.

"Ne, Kagome-chan," she said, walking towards her restored friend. "What happened between you and Kouga?"

Kagome glanced around, appearing surprised that Kouga was not on the ground where she had left him. "Um..." she said hesitantly. "He just wanted me to come with him."

"Where?" Inuyasha barked.

She looked confused. "What?"

The hanyou pulled an expression of annoyance across his face. "Where did he want to take you?" he said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. Surprisingly, Kagome did not seem to take umbrage with his tone.

"He wanted me to go with him to find Naraku. So we could defeat him together," she supplied. Her hands twisted in on each other, as if she was nervous saying it out loud.

Sango blinked, perplexed. "But..." she began.

Inuyasha cut her off with a particularly sinister snicker, and Miroku looked knowing.

"Wait a minute!" Shippou piped up. "Why was Kouga so embarrassed about that?" He sounded just as confused as Sango.

"He was embarrassed?" Kagome asked, astonished. Sango could see why - Kouga never seemed to be embarrassed about anything, even his feelings.

Miroku looked up at the leaves above him. "I would guess that he was embarrassed that he asked Kagome-sama for help, when his only objective concerning her has been to protect her and keep her out of harm's way." He glanced at the still snickering Inuyasha. "Also, he is very proud. He would never ask anyone for help if possible."

Inuyasha gave up and began to laugh outright. "Wimp... wimpy wolf!" he wheezed, doubled over. "Asking Kagome for help!"

Kagome did not seem to find this quite as funny as he did. "Hey!" she said indignantly. "You get help from me all the time, Inuyasha!"

This stopped him. Inuyasha quit laughing and straightened up, glaring at her. "I don't need your help," he said, sniffing. He thrust his nose in the air, pride wounded. Shippou decided that this would be the best point for him to disembark from Port Kagome and head for the Bay of Miroku, who had caught Sango's eye. Both of them knew where this particular discussion was heading: a few more insults from Inuyasha, a couple of outraged statements from Kagome, and the hanyou would eat dirt. It wasn't a good enough show to watch more than twice - after a dozen performances it got somewhat tedious - and the scenario had been played out hundreds of times by now.

At least this was one thing she could still do with Miroku without feeling awkward, Sango mused. They could walk away together, feeling suitably sanctimonious and superior without any of their strange emotions muddying the water.

Sango sighed, a sigh that spoke of long-suffering. "Do they ever get tired of this?" she asked, almost rhetorically.

Miroku shrugged. "I think they enjoy it, on some level," he replied.

Sango dropped her head forward and smiled. The exterminator, the kitsune, and the monk continued in the direction they had first been travelling before their detour.

***

Kagome stretched out in her sleeping bag, preparing to bed down for the night beneath a tree that was just starting to turn color. On the wind, the seasons were changing, and soon it would be autumn, and all around her would sink into sleep. She smiled - she was glad; she loved the changing of the seasons.

Still, she was mildly irked. It had been an annoying day. Not so much interesting, really; rather more of the same to tell the truth. Since when did getting kidnapped become such a part of her every day routine that she could swallow it without so much as a fuss? It was like it was par for the course now.

Even though it was somewhat selfish, Kagome wished for something new to happen, so that she could break out of the tedium of demon-hunting and shard-searching. Except that there weren't any more shards. So really, what was she doing here?

The sensible thing to do would be to go home, where, as far as she knew, Naraku couldn't reach her. But she was still here, still travelling, still placing herself in danger. Why?

But she knew why.

A little way away from her, Inuyasha's ears twitched in his strange half-sleep, his sword cradled against his chest. Kagome wondered what it was he thought about while he let his body rest from the trials of the day, and if he ever thought of her, as she thought of him.

Anything was possible, right?

"Kagome-sama."

Kagome turned her head a bit, slightly startled to see Miroku only a few feet from her sleeping bag, his back propped against a tree.

"Yes?" she asked him.

He smiled a little bit. "Go to sleep, Kagome-sama," he said gently. Kagome favored him with a smile, and turned over, placing a hand around Shippou's already sleeping form and closed her eyes.

Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

***

It had followed them. They travelled slowly to accommodate the humans in their group, and that suited it just fine - its run-in with the wolf prince had left it feeling slightly drained - the wolf was poor food - and it was glad it didn't have to strain to keep up with the little group. Now they had stopped, and it wondered if it could pull off the plan it had formulated.

Directly below it, the monk was nodding off into sleep. The taijiya was already lost to dreams, and the hanyou, only a bit off to the right, was taking his solace in the strange half-dreams that played behind his eyes while his ears and nose stayed alert, scouting the night for dangers.

It couldn't touch the kitsune - he was too near to the miko for it to sense him, and to get too close to her aura without the protective shell of flesh about it would spell purification and death.

It could taste their minds, mingling in the night air, and they were so rich with emotion, so complex in their thoughts and feelings for one another... and her. They were a sumptuous banquet laid out for the taking, and it knew how to savor them.

Slowly, it descended, a creature of thought. If it had possessed a body, an observer would have witnessed it start to splinter, to split down, three ways, and slowly creep toward the three sleeping figures it could touch.

It was hungry.

And now it would feast.

***

Sango slept, and dreamed...

...of her old life. She can taste the air in her village, smell cooking fish and burning youkai bones, the fragrance of people living, of people going about their day, secure and, if not happy, at least content.

Kohaku is sitting in front of her, his back to her, and staring out at the little yard behind their hut where he practices. But he is not practicing now. Now he is just sitting, slumped and sad, and trying not to cry.

"Kohaku," says Sango. She sits down behind him, sliding her legs on either side of him and looping her arms about his slim torso. He stiffens slightly for a moment before melting back into her.

"Aneue," he replies. She frowns. He sounds sad and broken, not like himself at all. Something is wrong. Gently she tightens her hold on him, placing her chin on his shoulder. She breathes deeply.

"Did father scold you again?" she asks. That must be it. Father scolds him too much. Far too much. Not for the first time, she wonders if her little brother is cut out for being a taijiya. But that is silly. He was born into it. He will be one of the best.

"No," he whispers, in answer to her question.

"Oh."

"He bled. A lot."

She is startled by this proclamation. But he's right. Father did bleed a lot. So much blood, spilling down his neck. Sango squeezes her eyes shut.

That's right. Father is dead. And so is the boy in her arms. He feels cold, even now, in this dream, because it must be a dream.

Slowly, Sango turns her head and presses a kiss to his cheek. He tastes like the past, and it is bitter on her tongue.

He tastes like dying hopes. He tastes like dreams denied.

It crept in through her dreams, and settled around her heart that beat, sad and sickly, in her breast.

And across the clearing, Inuyasha dreamed...

...of memories that lie, disused and dusty, in the corners of his mind.

He stares up at the face of his older brother, only in this memory he is young, not more than ten years old. His face is more animated, his eyes more lively, and right now he is staring in horror at the carpet in front of him.

"Crap!" he says. Inuyasha remembers now how strange it was to hear that word on his brother's lips. He would get in big trouble if their mother heard them. But then again, they were already in big trouble. He looks down at the shattered pieces of the vase on the floor, and his heart drops. That was his mother's favorite vase.

"I told you not to transform in the house," he says to his brother, accusingly. Onii-chan has pinned one too many things on him for Inuyasha's taste. He didn't want to get into trouble again over something he didn't do.

"Shut up," his brother says, looking panicky. "Where do you think we should hide this?"

But it's too late. Both of them turn fearfully, listening to their mother's footsteps, coming closer and closer, down the hallway...

... and Inuyasha can also remember her kisses and smiles, and how warm she felt when he was scared or when Sesshoumaru had teased him once too often or when he was sick...

...and barely on the edge of remembrance, is his father's scent, deep and pungent and spicy, like autumn air. Even now, in the slow death of the world, he is reminded of his father although he can no longer recall his face...

...and then there was her, with peaceful eyes and sweet smiles and soft tones, with hair like silk and a heart full of kindness, who said she loved him, who wanted to be with him always...

But all that is gone now.

In his dreams, Inuyasha remembers all that he has lost.

And it is there with the hanyou as well, reaching out and holding him close. It loves the taste of despair.

And a few feet away, Miroku dreamed...

...of dying. He dreams about dying a lot, because he can feel death coming for him. It's only a matter of time, and he tries, over and over, to make peace with it. The future waits for no man, and he is no exception. No matter how much he wants to stop time, to stop the inevitable, to run from the cold, icy knowledge of his fate, he cannot.

He is so familiar with this sensation, the sensation of his entire body folding in on itself, his flesh ripping, his bones being crushed, inexorably pulled toward one point, snapping under pressure, tearing his muscles. It is agony. The kazanaa takes its own sweet time, pulling him in, prolonging his torture. Miroku wishes to die, quickly, without pain, but that is impossible.

All he has ever done condenses down into this one moment. His whole life, reduced to this single endless stretch of pain, and then nothingness.

He thinks of all those he has sucked into the eternal void of his hand, and wonders if they felt this same horrifying rending of the body, the same collapse of the mind, as they flew into oblivion.

He hopes not.

He doesn't die every night, but he dies often enough. And in the darkest depths of his mind, he is afraid, and he is ashamed.

And it coiled around the monk, devouring his fear.

In the dark, Miroku opened his eyes, and saw the future he longed to forget.

***

Kagome woke up very slowly to the sound of someone calling her name. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, scrubbing the sleep from them, and looked around for the source of the sound. She wasn't quite awake enough to figure out who was calling for her, or even where she was.

Hm, last I checked, Mama wasn't a man... so I must be in the past. She smiled slightly. Sometimes she was a genius when it came to figuring things out. So it must be Miroku or Inuyasha, and since the voice wasn't yelling or angry, it was probably the monk. Kagome turned toward where she'd last seen him.

Inches from her nose, Miroku blinked.

"Eep!" She would have shot out of her sleeping bag if she weren't worried about waking Shippou. "Geez, Miroku, don't do that to me," she hissed.

"Gomen, Kagome-sama," he said, holding up a placating hand. "I was wondering if you would like to go for a walk with me."

Kagome blinked in confusion. "What, now?" she asked.

"Hai." He smiled that sweet, debonnaire smile.

Kagome shrugged. If he'd woken her up over it, it was probably important to him. Careful to not dislodge the sleeping fox kit, Kagome eased out of her sleeping bag and stood up. "Okay, I'm ready," she said to him.

Miroku grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trees.

***

A/N: Hope I didn't lose too many people out there - this chapter was kind of slow, even though I really like writing from Sango's perspective. Next time: Kagome tries to figure out what the hell is going on with her friends. How long 'til she figures it out, I wonder?

Once again, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I love you guys so much. You rock me. ^_^ Special uber-thanks goes to faerie -- I'm so glad you like it. Augh! Pressure!

If you want to listen to me whine about writing this fic, check out my anime journal, where I announce updates, recommendations, and post little teasers and silly drabbles. My user name is ash_grey_sky.