InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Gods and Monsters ❯ Ch 38: Clarification and Realization ( Chapter 38 )

A/N: I must hug the following people until rib-bruising occurs, because without their honesty and (requested) nitpickiness, this chapter would NOT have happened. Thank you Nanda for explaining "Canned Ham" and how to fix it. Thank you Ith for the page on kitsune lore and suggestions on the taiji-ya entries. Thank you Kat for pointing out things that I hadn't even THOUGHT of. And, even though she's still out of the country, thanks to Everstar for helping me brainstorm and blunder my way through the events held in this chapter.

Chapter 38: Clarification and Realization

The armory at the taiji-ya village crackled with the warmth of a fire that still blazed. Though the sun had already begun to ease away the shadows of nightfall, Sango slept on, curled on her side, her back to the window. With a sigh, she rolled over and felt the faint sunlight prick at her eyelids. Frowning, she reached up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before sitting up and gazing around the makeshift camp. As she became more awake, she noticed something odd - two things, actually.

Kirara was not sleeping soundly, tucked against her chest. In fact, the fire youkai was nowhere to be seen. And it appeared as if Miroku had joined the firecat in her early-morning absence. The fire looked as if it had been tended recently, and the monk's sleeping mat was neatly rolled and stowed against the wall.

"Don't tell me he started without me," she muttered, pushing herself to her feet. Sango moved quickly, putting her bedding away before running hasty fingers through her long, tangled hair. At some point during the night her tie had fallen out and she retrieved it from the floor, pulling her dark hair back into its customary low ponytail before hurrying out of the armory and striding quickly to the library. Sango's steps were light as she trotted up to the door, pulling it open, an admonishment poised on her lips. "Houshi-sama, I can't believe you..."

But Sango's words trailed off into silence when she realized that the library was vacant. The monk wasn't anywhere in sight. She rocked back on her heels, folding her arms across her chest. If he wasn't in the armory or the library, where could he have been?

A thoughtful frown settled on her face as she turned from the library and began walking slowly through the village. As she walked, memories from the night before flashed in her mind, flooding it with images. Her face grew warm as she recalled the feel of Miroku's mouth playing against her own, her momentary amazement when she'd probed experimentally, feeling his tongue slide against hers, and the general shock that the kiss had been as gentle as it was. Blowing out a breath, Sango brought a cooling hand to her face. Thankfully, the morning was chilly and the wind brisk - it felt like a balm against her flushed cheeks - almost as effective as a dip in a cold spring.

Cold spring...

Sango's brows lifted. Water. He must have gone to fetch water. She turned right suddenly, walking between two lines of deserted huts before reaching the village's west entrance. And there, she stopped - so quickly, in fact, that she nearly tripped. Her search for Miroku had come to a sudden, unexpected end.

Her family's shrine was on this side of the village; it wasn't particularly grand, and it had undergone a fair amount of damage in the youkai attack, but it was still structurally sound. And, from the looks of it, occupied. Sitting primly off to the side, Kirara sat, watching the shrine - and Miroku - intently, her tails swishing.

The taiji-ya felt a lump form in her throat, tightening it. She could see her father so clearly, gazing at the jewel shard she'd found in the centipede youkai - it was one of her last memories of him. She could almost remember what it felt like before Naraku, before Kohaku's blade had pierced her back, before her father had fallen to the ground, lifeless - before all of it.

'Take same rest; you'll be working again soon.'

Her shoulder, popping loudly as she rotated it. 'Right.'

'Kohaku, you as well.'

Kohaku's eyes, widening. 'Eh, me?'

The houshi was in a position of prayer, a thin ribbon of incense streaming upwards, coiling above him. He appeared to be lost in his thoughts, but as Sango drew nearer, she could hear him. His voice was low, and the words were spoken softly - as if to himself - but if she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could hear him.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Sango turned and made a move as if to walk away. I have no right to listen to his prayers, she thought, shaking her head. It's none of my business.

And yet her ears strained for the sound of his voice.

The young monk let out a deep, contemplative sigh, as if he'd been ruminating for days instead of minutes or hours. "I... don't know what to call you, sir. In fact, I'd much rather be doing this in person. And, of course, being who I am, I've done this all backwards. But, anyway, it's... about your daughter. I know you watch over her, sir, but I want you to know you're not the only one who appreciates her. She's.... amazing. She's saved my life - more than once." He paused for a moment, and Sango could see him tilt his head slightly. "And she doesn't seem to have regretted it at all." There was another pause, and Miroku took a breath so deep his shoulders raised, lowering when he exhaled. "I realize I'm... probably not what you had in mind for her. Come to think of it, I'm not what I had in mind for her either. She's beautiful, she's deadly, she's strong... she's got so much honor and courage..."

As Sango listened to his distinct baritone, as she began to realize what he was doing, the flush receded from her cheeks. She didn't belong there - his words were far too personal, and even though she and Miroku had eavesdropped on Inuyasha and Kagome on more than one occasion, it felt... wrong now. But Sango stood rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but listen to something never intended for her ears.

Miroku paused, clearing his throat. "But of course, you know all that," he murmured, giving another sigh. "I really wish you were here, sir, because I want to do this right. She deserves to have it done right. So... when we're finished here, I'm going to marry her." There was a brief break during which Miroku let out a soft huff of wry laughter. "Well, I'm going to try. She might crack my skull for asking. But I don't think so. And I came, sir, to ask for your blessing."

Tears made Sango's vision swim and her eyes itch, and though she realized that these were Miroku's most private thoughts, she could not walk away. After a moment, she shook her head, forcing herself to take one step back, then another. She couldn't let him find her there - if he'd wanted her to hear these words, he would have told her himself.

With that thought, the taiji-ya turned on her heel and let her steps guide her back to the library. Sango pushed the door open and went inside, wiping quickly at her eyes, part of her wondering if she'd heard him right.

Had she? Could she have heard him correctly?

"No, no," she muttered under her breath, pacing slowly. "Focus. This isn't what we're doing now. I am not going to think about this now."

Marry? He wanted to marry her?

Turning suddenly, nervous, excess energy fueling her movements, Sango strode to the shelving system where they had found the inuyoukai scrolls the night before. She pushed the trunk, which was serving as a stepstool of sorts, across the floor. It was old and heavy, and ground noisily as she pushed it. Stepping onto the chest, Sango glanced cursorily at a few of the scrolls before loading her arms with them. It occurred to her that they were probably going to reach the end of the inuyoukai section before much longer, and they had yet to find any mention of hanyou in the scrolls.

Sango jumped down from the chest and walked back to the low table she'd been reading at the night before. Dumping the scrolls unceremoniously onto the table's surface, she knelt down and opened the first one, scanning it quickly before setting it aside. She had worked through eight scrolls in this manner before Miroku's voice shattered her concentration.

"Sango?" Miroku stood by the open door, staring in shock at the taiji-ya. His hand rested on the door, which she hadn't heard open, and he blinked once, then twice, as if trying to discern whether she had actually started without him.

Sango, however, was finding it increasingly difficult to look up at the monk. She could feel warmth rush up to her cheeks and knew they were growing pink. "Y-yes, houshi-sama?"

Disappointment flickered in Miroku's eyes as the girl avoided his gaze. Ah, so we're back to "houshi-sama," are we? Suppressing a sigh, he shoved the flash of melancholy away. "I was only surprised that you were here. I did not expect to find you resuming our task so early." He lifted a brow at the scrolls on the table. "And with such enthusiasm."

"Well," she began, swallowing hard and looking down at the scrolls. "I woke up and you... you weren't around, so I thought I'd start on them until you... got back."

"Ah," he replied, nodding once before crossing the room and kneeling next to Sango, his eyes on the collection of scrolls. "So, how is the search going?"

Sango's breath caught in her throat; the scent of incense clung to him like a whisper. "Not very well," she managed softly, her eyes on the rolled documents. "And I don't think there's much left on dog demons. I know there's more to go through, but given the library's organization, if we haven't found it now..."

"Damn," Miroku muttered, sitting back on his heels and running a hand through his bangs. After a moment, he shook his head. "I cannot believe that your family collected no information on hanyou." A small frown tugged his eyebrows together as he stared at the scrolls Sango had yet to read.

The taiji-ya was already shaking her head. "I know the elders conducted a study on hanyou. Houshi-sama, I'm sure of it."

He looked at her, something crackling in his eyes. "Maybe they needed the room," he spoke slowly. "Maybe they needed to make room on the shelves?" he asked, standing and looking around.

Sango stood as well, following his steps. "It would explain why we haven't seen hanyou mentioned more than once or twice in every ten or twenty scrolls we look through."

Miroku nodded distractedly as he walked down the center aisle, turning sharply down the row of scrolls where they'd found the section on dog demons. He stopped suddenly at the chest she had been using to reach the higher shelves. "Sango," he asked, looking at her over his shoulder, "what's in this trunk?"

The taiji-ya blinked once. "I... don't know. I've just been using it to reach the higher scrolls." And yet, the absurdity of not checking the trunk first grated on her nerves. Berating herself silently, Sango watched as Miroku crouched down and inspected the lock on the trunk.

"Empty chests are never locked," he murmured, trying the hasp. "Locked. It figures."

"So that means..."

"It could mean anything," he murmured, tilting his head as he bent down to give closer examination to the chest. "For instance, it could be our elusive collection of hanyou scrolls. Or it could be a very coveted, very secret sweet dumpling recipe."

"Only one way to find out," Sango replied, turning and striding back to the front of the library. She returned a short while later with one of the tall lantern stands, wielding it like a weapon. "You might want to move out of the way, houshi-sama," she said, a glimmer of amusement in her tone.

Miroku obliged, quickly, and watched as Sango brought the end of the lantern stand down hard on the lock. It took several tries, but eventually the lock gave, landing on the floor with a loud, metallic thud.

Setting the stand aside, she sent a sanguine smile in the monk's direction. "Now try it, houshi-sama."

A slow smile curved his lips. "Sango?"

"Yes?" she replied both bemused and distracted by that smile.

Without another word - or even a thought to the physical assault that could follow - he tugged her close, dipping his head and placing his lips over hers, delivering a slow kiss that was just on the pleasant side of chaste. Sango started slightly, but melded against him, returning the embrace.

After a few seconds, she broke the kiss, looking up at him. When she managed to find her voice, it was somewhat breathier than usual. "What was that for?"

Grinning, the monk stepped back, even though his arms protested the loss . "Because I love watching you work," he replied, turning his attention back to the trunk. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he added, "Even though I could have picked the lock." He waited a moment, enjoying the faintly embarrassed flush that deepened the color already present. "But it was far more satisfying watching you do that."

Sango knelt down in front of the trunk, releasing the latch. "Break the lock on a generations-old chest?" she asked dryly.

He shrugged fluidly, lowering himself to his knees as well. "What can I say? Shows of force excite me."

Sango glanced at him once before opening the trunk. "You'd better not let Inuyasha hear you say that." As she lifted the lid, the dust that had settled in the trunk rose, caught in the updraft, and Sango made a face, rubbing her nose. "Thank the gods youkai can't possess dust."

"Ugh. Not a good thought," Miroku muttered, peering into the trunk. There, stacked neatly at the bottom, was a collection of approximately thirty scrolls. Swallowing, he reached in and lifted out a scroll gingerly, carefully unrolling it. He could feel Sango's eyes on him as he read. He looked up at her, noting the anticipation and apprehension reflected in the dark irises. "Apparently," he said, glancing down again, "hanyou attacks are hereditary. The hanyou will inherit some - not all, but some - of its youkai parent's attacks." Looking up again, a smile spread across the monk's lips. "I think we found them."

Sango expelled a breath, her shoulders sagging in relief. "About time," she murmured. Without another word, she pulled another scroll from the trunk and opened it, settling back on her hip, getting more comfortable as she read.

"We could bring these back to the tables," Miroku suggested, but Sango only shook her head, absorbed in what she was reading. His brows drew together slightly. "What have you got?"

Swallowing once, she read the words out loud. "'...Hanyou are largely solitary-'"

Miroku grinned. "Ha."

But Sango did not match his grin, and her expression only grew sadder as she continued to read. "'-the treatment of hanyou by their youkai families differ; some hanyou born into a pack, such as wolf youkai, are sent off to live in isolation after they have been weaned. In some cases, the whelp is left to starve, and still other times the demonling is embraced by the pack.'" She looked up at Miroku and saw the quiet shock reflected in his face. He leaned over suddenly, peering down at the scroll as Sango continued to read aloud. "'Not all youkai are as inconsistent, treating the hanyou as an abomination...'"

The young monk was silent for several seconds. "Gods," he breathed. "I had realized it was difficult, but..."

"I know," Sango said quietly, rolling the scroll back up. "After all that trouble struggling to be born." She stared into the chest, gazing at the unread scrolls for a moment before she inhaled deeply and pulled out another scroll, reading it silently.

They stayed like that, sitting on the floor of the library, silently reading through the scrolls. Sango was almost surprised that the records on hanyou were as extensive as they were. But then, the study had been ongoing - from what she had read as well as what she remembered, the elders had been trying to learn more about hanyou for years. For a moment, she wondered how they'd gathered such detailed information.
And then, against her will, Sango thought of the scrolls on inuyoukai mating.

Gods, I don't want to know how they got their information. Just then, Miroku let out a soft half-chuckle. The taiji-ya glanced over at him, pulled out of her reverie. "Hmm? What did you find?"

Glancing at her with an unreadable gleam in his eyes, Miroku cleared his throat once before turning his eyes back to the document.

'Hanyou very rarely succeed in acquiring mates, human or youkai, though they often times feel the pull in accordance with their youkai blood. On the rare occasions in which a hanyou does find a mate, he will tend to be more loyal than a youkai counterpart, if such a thing may be possible.'

Chuckling softly, Sango rolled her scroll up, exchanging it for another one. "Interesting," she said, opening the rolled document.

"If not entirely surprising, eh?" the monk replied with a hint of wry amusement before turning back to the scroll he held.

Sango nodded, only half-listening to the monk. Many minutes passed in this fashion; the information was certainly more relevant now, but not quite what they were in search for and Sango could feel that old annoyance mounting again. Exhaling sharply, she set aside the scroll she held before choosing another from that box. Relative silence passed, and for a long time the only sounds in the library were rustling paper and irritated expulsions of breath as well as the occasional murmured word exchanged between Miroku and Sango.

Sango had just opened another scroll when her eyes widened and her breath caught. "Houshi-sama..." she breathed.

He looked up immediately. "What?"

Licking her lips, she read aloud, her eyes tracking the characters.

'While incidents involving impregnation of a female human by a youkai male are rare, we have yet to find a youkai female mated to a human male. This is possibly due to the brutally competitive nature of the youkai female. However, in the case of human females impregnated by youkai males, it was found that survival of both whelp and mother continues to be rare. While it is customary for either the hanyou whelp or mother to survive, there are still a staggering number of deaths involving both demonling and mother.'

She looked at him again. "I think this might be it - or at least part of it." Glancing back down at the scroll, Sango's eyebrows furrowed as she read another selection silently.

Though the hanyou is frequently considered an abomination by its youkai counterparts, we feel that such a creature - if properly trained - could prove useful...

The young taiji-ya swallowed. Creature? Trained? Useful? For a moment she tried to think of Inuyasha in such terms. It made something sicken in her gut. A hanyou was not a thing to be trained for a specific purpose. They're half human - didn't the elders see that?

Miroku shifted suddenly, resting his back against the shelving system. The sound of creaking wood and rustling material pulled Sango's attention away from the scroll. "You know," he muttered, "I'd hoped for something more encouraging."

Sango shook her head, re-reading the passage. "I know what you mean." Sighing, she started gathering the remaining scrolls into her arms. "Let's take these back to the armory - I'd like to try and read them without all the dust."

Miroku carried what Sango could not, following her out of the library and back to the armory. Sango set the scrolls down carefully before unrolling one of the sleeping mats and kneeling on it, spreading the rolled documents out beside her. She picked up the one she'd been reading in the library and unrolled it, her eyes scanning the text quickly before finding where she'd left off. Miroku did the same, settling down and continuing his side of the search.

The atmosphere in the armory was similar to that in the library. They were partially relieved at having found the scrolls, but the information held within was less than promising.

Sango's frown deepened as she read - none of what she'd found so far was remotely encouraging. Compounding that was the realization that the scrolls, though stowed together, had not been set in any sort of order, so the slow pace of research was made even slower by the randomness of information she managed to discover. And then her brows twitched together, brown eyes backtracking to re-read a specific passage. "Huh... that's odd," she murmured. She reached for a scroll she'd just discarded, unfurling it and scanning the text quickly. "... Miroku?"

Shaking his head as Sango's voice wove its way through the haze of concentration that had settled over him, Miroku looked over at her. "What's wrong?"

"Well," she began, skimming the scroll quickly, "wolf youkai either desert or kill the hanyou when the mother doesn't survive the birth. They then leave the mother's body to rot, treating it as an unclean thing. But... but here, in another section on youkai/human mating... here, there's... a bear youkai, mated to a human woman. Upon that human woman's death, the youkai followed a very strict ritual burial."

Miroku pursed his lips in thought. "Hmm. So.... there's no overarching pattern."

Sango shook her head quickly and her bangs moved with the gesture. "No... the mating section suggested that even if a youkai mates a human, the bond is strong, and the youkai fiercely loyal. Then why ostracize your offspring? And," she added, her tone making clear her disgust, "why let your mate remain unburied?" She narrowed her eyes as she read, as if it were possible to find the answer if she just stared hard enough.

Snorting, Miroku shook his head. "Maybe we should ask Kouga." And then the monk's features settled into a thoughtful frown as he thought more about the wolf prince and his tribe. "Huh." He was quiet for a little longer. "You know..."

There was a musing quality in his voice that caught her attention. "What is it?"

"What was it that scroll said about wolf youkai? And wolf hanyou?"

She looked down again. "Uhmm..." setting one scroll down and picking up another, she searched through several documents before finding what she was looking for. "That the hanyou is either deserted, killed at birth, or sent away from the pack after its been weaned - usually by another female." She frowned suddenly. "That's odd that a female would wean another's child. And a half-human child at that."

His frown was almost immediate. "You know it surprises me that they'd be that inconsistent. I would think that they'd either kill it or let it live." Tilting his head in thought, he added, "Maybe each tribe treats their hanyou differently?"

Tilting her head, Sango looked again at the passage. "I hadn't thought of that, but it's a possibility." She glanced up again at him and saw that he was staring at a point in the middle distance, lost in deep thought. "Houshi-sama? Miroku?"

Miroku shook his head slowly. "There... has to be something." He looked at her again. "Do the wolf youkai always treat the hanyou that way or do they do it only when the mother dies? Does it say?"

"I... don't know," she murmured, turning her attention back to the scrolls. She was starting to get a feel for which document held what information, and the search was actually becoming easier. "Let me look." A short silence filled with the sound of rustling parchment passed before she said, "It's only when the mother dies."

"Hmm," was the monk's only reply. He got up and crossed the room, crouching down to dig through their pack of equipment. I remember seeing some of Kagome-sama's writing supplies... "Ah, here they are," he said, pulling out a notebook and pen. He returned to the spot where Sango knelt, still reading. Lowering himself to the ground, Miroku settled into a cross-legged position, resting the notebook in his lap. After thinking it over for a moment, he began writing. Wolf youkai: Ostracize child if mother dies. Bear youkai: Buried mother with ceremony. He pressed his lips together, reading what he'd written. Suddenly he felt Sango's chin resting on his shoulder, reading from the notebook. The presence startled him, and the fact that it was a prolonged presence nearly distracted him.

"No, that's not right," she said slowly, looking at what the monk had written. "The bear youkai's mate died of old age, not in childbirth."

Miroku nodded once, making a note. He frowned a bit and turned his head to look at her. "Wait. She was mated to a bear youkai and lived that long - when hanyou births are so very dangerous?" His frown deepened. "But... perhaps she was barren. That would make sense as well."

"No, I don't think she was barren," she murmured, looking again at the scroll. "She wouldn't be included in a study on hanyou if she were." Sango was quiet for a moment as she read. "No. It looks like... huh. 'The largest problem that appears to exist within human/youkai matings falls within the difference of lifespan. In each case studied, when the male youkai's human mate dies of natural causes, she is buried within the strict rituals of that youkai's beliefs"

Miroku closed his eyes, digesting this information. These are all male youkai - male youkai loyal to their mates. The bear's mate was buried, honored... "So it's arguable that enough of the humans live long enough to die of old age. Which means that the ones who did die of old age obviously didn't die in childbirth."

The taiji-ya was quiet for a moment before murmuring thoughtfully, "Didn't you say that hanyou mates are more loyal than even youkai?"

"That was the implication," he replied.

"Then why would a pack ostracize the child and not bury its mother? Youkai mates are supposed to be loyal - 'youkai mate for life,' right? So, maybe... maybe that particular wolf youkai wasn't as fiercely loyal as the bear youkai?"

Blowing out a breath, Miroku closed his eyes. "Loyalty. Male loyalty."

Narrowing her eyes at the scrolls, Sango pushed herself onto her knees and partially unrolled the documents, setting them side by side so she could see as many as them as possible. "They managed to gather information on thirty different pregnancies from a variety of youkai breeds," she muttered. "Thirty. Sounds like a lot, but there are hundreds of different types of youkai out there. It's not conclusive - this can't be conclusive."

So absorbed in her search was she that Sango completely missed the gleam of appreciation in Miroku's eyes as he looked at her for several moments before turning his attention back to the scrolls.

Shaking her head, she stabbed her finger against one of the unrolled scrolls. "One wolf hanyou cub was born to a healthy mother. One sent away from the pack." She chewed on her lip as she read, her finger following the lines of characters. "Huh. Look at that - every last one of the recorded kitsune/human matings was successful. No infant or mother mortality."

Miroku read the passage Sango was pointing at. "Interesting. Of course, from what I know of Shippou, kitsune appear to be not very fierce."

"No, they're not," she murmured. "In fact, they're very affectionate - doting, even - towards their human lovers. But wolf youkai... even this case of an inuyoukai right here - they're fighting breeds. They have higher mortality rates."

"Which only makes sense," Miroku added slowly. "But look at this," he pointed to another passage. "Another bear youkai's mate returned to her village after the death of their hanyou infant." His brows twitched together. "They took her back?"

"It doesn't specify," Sango murmured quietly. "It just says she returned." Looking up, she offered an apologetic shrug. "I guess we followed the youkai more than the human side of it."

"Well, it is your line of work," he said, blowing out a sigh and rolling his shoulders. They were getting a little closer, yes, but as Miroku glanced out the armory window, he could see that the morning was slowly slipping away. He hadn't eaten, and he was fairly sure Sango hadn't either - they would have to break soon.

"It's odd," Sango said, half to herself. "The fighting breeds would certainly incur a higher mortality rate simply because they're more active in the womb. But ... look at Shippou and tell me he's not active."

Chuckling, Miroku nodded. "Active. And spoiled."

The taiji-ya laughed softly. "What I'm saying is that kitsune aren't any less active than any other youkai. So why do they have the lowest mortality rate?" As an afterthought, she swatted him lightly. "And be nice. He's had a difficult time of things."

"I know, I know. Though from what Kagome-sama says, he was fairly doted on even before he joined her. After all, he was trying to avenge his parents."

Sango nodded. "Kitsune families are notoriously tight-knit."

"I imagine they'd be the same... way..." he trailed off, looking up at her. "I imagine they'd be the same way with their human mates."

Sango blinked once. She began rifling through the scrolls, searching once more for anything on kitsune/human matings. "Yes. They are."

"Are they the most tightly-knit family group?"

"Of youkai in general?" she asked in return. At Miroku's nod she replied, "Yes. Without question."

Drumming the pen against the notebook, he looked down at the page before adding to his notes. "Does... that seem... like a coincidence to you?"

"Tighter knit families sustain fewer birth-related deaths? Not really. I think even Teles said that the pup seemed to sense her anxiety during Sesshoumaru's absence. There's going to be less anxiety in closer families. If the pup senses Teles' anxiety - whether at Sesshoumaru's absence... or even his presence..."

Miroku pursed his lips. "Let's suppose this, then. Let's say the more anxious the pup, the greater the damage to the mother," he said quietly. "It seems to me that being mated to an inuyoukai certainly seems like it would be stressful. It's... something of a leap, I'll admit, but there has to be a reason why some women survived it and some didn't."

"I can think of someone who might have known," Sango replied softly.

Miroku nodded once. "And I can think of someone who might have written about it."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Sango asked, sliding off of Kirara's back.

The shakujou's rings jingled softly as Miroku walked towards the den's entrance, peering inside. "I think, given the circumstances, our spontaneity can be forgiven. I suppose the only thing to do is just go in and look."

"I suppose," Sango replied, somewhat warily. She felt Kirara walk alongside her as she made her way to the den's entrance, where Miroku was still standing, gazing off into the mouth of the cave. She blew out a breath. "If we're going in, we'd better go," she murmured, looking at him.

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm just not sure how we're going to tell them what we found. We know that some human mates survive and some don't. That's not the sort of thing you spring on a pair of expecting parents, particularly when one of them is a youkai lord."

As the monk and taiji-ya spoke in hushed tones, a tall figure came prowling out of the woods nearest the den's entrance. Only Kirara saw the youkai - only she could sense the waves upon waves of helpless rage rolling off of him, only she could see that his golden eyes were narrowed dangerously. Her hackles rose immediately and a deep warning growl erupted from the firecat's throat. She took several steps closer to her taiji-ya as well as the monk when it became obvious the inuyoukai was intent upon ignoring her.

At the sound of Kirara's growl, Sango spun around. "Kirara?"

Miroku had turned as well. "What..." but the words died in his throat when he saw the youkai lord walking slowly towards them. He started to take a step forward, but paused, seeing the youkai's expression. "Lord Sesshoumaru," he said quietly.

"Why are you here?" Sesshoumaru asked, his voice silken. He had seen the monk and huntress from a distance and felt the icy rage squeeze his chest; this was the monk his mate had been able to confide in. This was the monk he'd seen spread his kesa out over Teles' shoulders. Sesshoumaru continued pacing very slowly towards Miroku, his focus narrowing dangerously. He could see the huntress off to the side; she had sharp eyes for a human, and it wouldn't have surprised Sesshoumaru in the least if her muscles were already coiled in preparation for an attack. He could sense it in the neko youkai, and was confident that the cat would pounce if given opportunity. Not that it mattered.

The monk met Sesshoumaru's gaze with a level one of his own. "We've come to speak with you, Lord Sesshoumaru," he replied evenly.

The youkai looked contemplative as he tilted his head in something that looked a great deal like malicious interest. "About?"

"...About Lady Teles."

Sesshoumaru nodded thoughtfully before reaching out in a move that was both artlessly casual and remarkably fast, grabbing the houshi by the throat and lifting him off of the ground, sending the shakujou to the ground with a sharp, discordant jangle. "What about my mate, monk?" he asked, his voice full of familiar, cold detachment. Unfortunately, the only answer Miroku could offer was a series of gasping chokes as he wrapped his hands around Sesshoumaru's wrist.

"Miroku!" Sango cried, her eyes widening immediately. And even as Sesshoumaru was lifting Miroku by the throat, she had already grabbed one of Hiraikotsu's handles before freezing suddenly. Sesshoumaru could snap Miroku's neck in an instant - in less than the time it would have taken her to heft her weapon. Instead she stood stock still, her hands curling into fists as she watched Miroku struggle for breath. "What are you doing?" she yelled desperately. "You're going to kill him!"

Ignoring her, Sesshoumaru drew Miroku in, pinning him with an amber gaze that was not entirely sane. "Where is my mate, bouzu?" he growled, the words forced out through his teeth. But Miroku could only manage another series of choked noises as he tugged harder, but ineffectively, at Sesshoumaru's wrist.

Biting her lip and inhaling deeply, Sango decided to try a different tack. Weaponry wouldn't have worked - not in a situation like this. In as calm and as firm a voice as she could manage, she said, "Put him down, Lord Sesshoumaru." Please. "We don't know where she is. But if you just put him down, we'll help you find her." And then we'll help her kill you.

But the youkai was beyond logic, beyond rational thought. Instead, his lips curled back in a snarl, revealing gleaming fangs. His hand tightened around Miroku's throat until his claws pierced the skin, sending dark red rivulets of blood trickling slowly down the youkai's pale fingers as well as the houshi's neck. "My mate," he growled. "Where is she?"

Miroku was only vaguely aware of the claws sinking into his neck. His eyes closed when his vision began to swim. He managed a feeble shake of his head, all the while trying to process what was going on. Beyond the fact that Teles was gone, and Sesshoumaru had him by the throat.

"Damn it, Sesshoumaru, let him answer you!" Sango yelled, panic clutching more tightly at her with every passing second. He isn't releasing his Dokkasou, but if he does... "He can't answer you if he can't breathe!"

Sesshoumaru's brows twitched slightly as he considered Sango's words for a moment before carelessly throwing Miroku to the side. The monk landed hard on his back before drawing in a wheezing breath and coughing raggedly. As loath as Sesshoumaru was to acknowledge it, he could scent his mate on neither the houshi nor the taiji-ya. Straightening himself, he turned to Sango; on the surface, Sesshoumaru appeared as calm as he ever had, but warring in the amber depths of his eyes was desperation. Even his voice was the aural equivalent of silk and velvet - on the surface. But there was something ragged underneath. He was struggling to keep his façade intact, and failing miserably. "I will ask once more," he said quietly. "Where is my mate?"

Sango took a step back, her jaw set. Keeping one eye on Miroku, she lowered her body into a defensive stance. She glanced at him - he was still coughing, struggling for breath as he rubbed at his throat. The sight sent righteous anger flooding through the exterminator's limbs. "We don't know where she is," she replied softly, the sleeves of her yukata hiding the way her muscles were bunched as she held Hiraikotsu.

"Then that is very unfortunate for you both," the youkai murmured, taking a step closer to Sango.

"Yes, I'd gathered that," Miroku muttered hoarsely, his voice barely recognizable. After only a fraction of a second he blinked, looking up. "Wait, what do you mean, where is she?" He'd heard the question enough times, but the hand squeezing at his throat had managed to distract his attention somewhat.

Sesshoumaru's head swiveled to shoot an icy gaze at the monk. "I mean, monk, that my mate is missing."

"Damn," he breathed. After a moment, Miroku considered the full implications and his eyes widened. "Damn!"

"She's... missing?" Sango echoed. Where in the seven hells could she have gone? The nearest village is hours away. She stole a glance at Miroku, who was scowling at the line of forest across from the den, obviously wondering the same thing.

"She was not in the den when I returned this morning," the youkai lord said stiffly, folding his arms in his sleeves. "I have not yet managed to locate her," he said, looking away, disgust writ large on his face. Glancing back at them with a sneer, he added, "Thus I am fairly sure that renders her missing."

"She couldn't have gone far," Sango said quietly. She didn't miss the subtle change in the youkai's demeanor, and for a moment, he reminded her a great deal of Inuyasha, though she never would have voiced such a thought. "A pregnant woman, in these lands?"

Frowning, Miroku sat up, turning his gaze on Sesshoumaru. "When was the last time you saw her?" And where the hell were you that you didn't notice her running away?

Sesshoumaru had been trying very hard not to think about the last time he'd seen his mate. In fact, he'd been quite busy trying to think of anything else. "Yesterday, well before sunset. I returned this morning," he added tightly. "Before dawn broke."

Rolling to his feet, Miroku cleared his throat once, wincing immediately. He saw Sango send him a worried look, and he offered a tiny nod in return. "Well," he managed roughly, "I assure you, Lord Sesshoumaru, that neither myself nor Sango have seen your mate since we left."

Gritting his teeth, the youkai narrowed his eyes. "Are you so very sure, monk?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

Holding his gaze steadily, Miroku lifted his chin a fraction, his stance and expression radiating both harmlessness and trustworthiness. "Lord Sesshoumaru, my vows to Buddha forbid me to lie." Sango, if you love me at all, you won't say anything.

But Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change. "Your vows as well as your Buddha mean very little to me, monk."

"I have no other way of reassuring you, lord," the houshi replied earnestly.

Going on as if Miroku hadn't spoken, Sesshoumaru added, "The extent of time you spent alone in my mate's company, however..."

Behind the façade of earnest trustworthiness, Miroku gritted his teeth. How could he have known? How... Suddenly the possibility dawned on him. Patrolling. Right. However, the last thing the monk was going to even consider doing was accusing Sesshoumaru of spying on them. Instead, he regarded the youkai with a steady look, but a sliver of ice had leaked into the monk's congeniality. "Lord Sesshoumaru, while I may have spent time alone with your mate, I assure you, she at no time ever expressed interest in me other than as a friend."

Sesshoumaru took one gliding step closer to Miroku. "And yet, she is missing, monk. She, who spoke at length with you. She, who confided in you."

"She," the monk riposted dryly, "with whom I am most certainly not the last person she spoke."

A low, dangerous growl rumbled through the youkai lord's throat and he took several strides toward Miroku. But the monk stood his ground and met Sesshoumaru's eyes unflinchingly, despite the drying blood at his throat and the fact that by morning he was going to have a bruise roughly the size of the youkai's hand around his neck.

However, before Sesshoumaru could close the distance between them, Sango darted in front of Miroku, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. "This isn't helping matters," she said in what she hoped was a calm, reasonable tone. "Teles-sama is still out there, and..." she swallowed once. "She's... somewhere. Fighting over who spoke with her more or who spoke with her last isn't helping." She glanced over her shoulder at Miroku, who had by this point dropped his eyes from Sesshoumaru's gaze and was looking away. When she turned her attention back to Sesshoumaru, she found that, while his jaw was set and his eyes still stormy, his arms were folded over his chest, lost in his sleeves.

"Now," the taiji-ya continued, "if you saw her before sunset, then... she probably left around that time?"

"My vassal left to hunt before sunset. He returned at dusk. She had already left by that point," he replied tersely.

"So we look," she countered calmly. "She couldn't have gotten far - even in all this time."

At these words, Miroku looked again into the dense woodland, his brows drawing together in a frown. Not without help, anyway.

Casting a glance over the lands, Sesshoumaru shook his head slowly. "I have already searched the surrounding woodland."

"How far out?" Miroku asked, moving to Sango's side.

"Far enough," the youkai replied shortly. "Beyond what she could have traveled in two days' time, much less one night."

"Well, maybe..." Sango trailed off in thought. "Maybe...she found one of the villages? There are a few -"

"She is not in any of the surrounding villages," Sesshoumaru interrupted coolly.

Neither Miroku nor Sango wanted to know how the youkai lord could answer this with such certainty. They exchanged a worried glance. Miroku, for his part, did not want to suggest that Teles might have had help, but the idea of her traveling through the lands unaided wasn't plausible. "Are you certain she traveled alone?"

For a moment, the youkai lord looked far older than either of them had seen. "Jaken and Rin are here," he said tiredly. "There is no one else with whom she could have traveled."

Miroku nodded slowly. And neither of them is likely to be much use in making headway. After a moment, he glanced at Sango. "Perhaps if we returned to the village and spoke with Inuyasha..." He paused for a moment, inhaling a breath before expelling it. "But before we do that..." Miroku glanced at Sesshoumaru. "We were wondering if we might... search your library."

Sesshoumaru was silent for a moment. The talk of bringing this to Inuyasha had grated on him, and he clenched his jaw in response. He hadn't wanted to ask for help - and he certainly hadn't asked for it. But he'd been scouring the lands since dawn, and it was now nearly mid-day with no sign of his mate. Logically, going to Inuyasha made sense, whether he liked it or not. And, just to be clear, he didn't.

But now the monk and taiji-ya wanted to see his library? "Why do you wish to see my father's scrolls?" Why, when my mate is lost, alone, in pain, and, most likely, afraid?

Sango cleared her throat softly. "We... actually had a different purpose in coming here."

Sesshoumaru's face revealed nothing. "What purpose?"

The houshi took one step forward. "We were wondering if you could confirm whether Lord Inutaisho kept records of a personal nature. And whether any of them were from the time his second mate was pregnant with Inuyasha."

Frowning, Sesshoumaru nodded. "Some. But I fail to see why you require to search my library."

Calmly, Miroku replied, "I spoke with Sango about the... discomfort I mentioned to you before, after your return to the den. It called to her mind certain research done by the elders of her village."

Sango chewed lightly on her lip for a moment. "They were interested in the hanyou population and why hanyou themselves have always been so... uncommon."

"Beyond the obvious, of course," Miroku added. "Granted, humans and youkai do not mate with anything resembling startling regularity." Though, at times, you wouldn't know it.

Sango took a deep, steadying breath. "The elders of my village observed a series of hanyou births - different youkai breeds over the years - so that they might know more about them." She stopped, a bitter taste in her mouth at the detached tone she heard in her voice. "You yourself know that youkai are stronger - they develop more quickly than humans." At Sesshoumaru's nod, she continued. "Well… hanyou pup inside of its mother is stronger, more active than a human child. There is..." the taiji-ya bit her lip hard. "The pup can hurt the mother." Sango stopped, her eyes darting quickly to Miroku for only the barest second before turning back to Sesshoumaru. "That's... that's why they're rare," she said, her tone quiet and apologetic.

Blanching suddenly, the youkai's eyes widened, and there was a movement in his throat as he swallowed. Otherwise, his expression did not change. Sango wasn't sure how to take this reaction, but it seemed wise to proceed carefully. "We returned to my village to try and find record of this study -- we did. The outcomes were mixed."

"What did you... determine?" Sesshoumaru asked, his normally smooth voice now somewhat hoarse.

Sango opened her mouth to reply, closing it when she felt Miroku take another step closer to her, offering what tacit encouragement he could. "The human mates of fighting breeds - wolf youkai, inuyoukai - they... didn't survive as often."

Sesshoumaru felt as if every ounce of air had been squeezed out of his chest. The words whirled through his head with blinding speed. 'Didn't survive.' Not only is she alone and in pain, but... "Please elaborate, huntress," he managed, his voice growing ragged.

"We... we think that ... the pup senses the mother's anxiety, and responds to it."

The youkai lord closed his eyes for a long moment. She was in pain. I saw it -- I saw it, and scolded her. "And... the more anxious the mother..."

"The more the child responds," Miroku supplied quietly. "This is just our guess - it's not beyond question."

Sesshoumaru only gave the barest nod, clinging to one thought like a lifeline: There was no blood in her scent. I smelled no blood.

Miroku frowned slightly, noting the already pale youkai's ashen complexion. "But there are," he added, "instances where both the mother and child survive - Inuyasha, for instance. We were hoping, that if we cross-referenced the scrolls from her village with the records of a successful pregnancy..." the monk trailed off, shaking his head. "But if she's missing, we should help you look. Sango and I will return to the village and tell Inuyasha."

Shaking her head slowly, Sango looked at the young houshi. "I'm not sure that's a wise idea, Miroku. We're going to need to let Kirara rest soon - we've been pushing her awfully hard these past few days. I think we should first get the scrolls here and then return to the village - it's not too terribly far. We'll rest for the night and then-"

"Sango, Inuyasha needs to be notified. If she's out wandering the woods somewhere-"

"I know that, Miroku. I agree that we need to tell Inuyasha," she reasoned, "but I don't know how much good it will do searching those lands. I can't imagine a pregnant woman making it all the way to Kaede-sama's village from here on foot."

"I will notify Inuyasha."

Miroku and Sango stopped for a moment, staring at the youkai lord. Sesshoumaru only looked back at them with some of his reclaimed calm. "I will notify him of my mate's disappearance," he repeated. "And you will continue your research." Nodding once, he turned. "Follow me." His steps were urgent, his strides long and determined - not once had he glanced back to see if the monk and taiji-ya were following. As he led them through the vast corridors, his mind was working rapidly - he was confident that his mate was nowhere in the western lands; however, both the monk and taiji-ya seemed to consider that an impossibility. She was somewhere - that much was clear. He just had to find where.

Pushing the screen aside, Sesshoumaru stepped into the library, raising his hand to indicate a section of shelving. "Father's personal writings." Tapping the end of one scroll with a claw, he added, "I believe this begins shortly after Naoko became his mate." As he pointed this out, it suddenly occurred to Sesshoumaru how very small this collection of scrolls was in comparison to the rest of his father's writings - and how soon the end followed. The youkai lord swallowed hard against a sudden, overwhelming wish for his father.

"How far do you think the relevant scrolls will span?" Miroku asked, eyes tracking the shelf.

"The next twenty scrolls should give you all the detail you need," he replied quietly.

Sango and Miroku exchanged a quick look before Sango stepped forward almost hesitantly to start gathering them.

"Now, if you would both excuse me..." Sesshoumaru murmured, making a move to leave the library without waiting for a reply.

But Miroku saw this and cleared his throat suddenly, which earned him a wince and a promise that he wouldn't be doing that anymore. "There is one... other thing I think you should know." Looking over his shoulder at Sango, he offered her a reassuring smile. "Sango, I'll be just a moment." He could see the hesitation in her eyes, but eventually the taiji-ya nodded and turned her attention back to the scrolls on the shelf.

The youkai and houshi stepped out into the corridor. Miroku looked up at Sesshoumaru, whose arms were folded in his sleeves as he regarded the monk fairly coldly. Exhaling softly, Miroku weighed his words carefully. He did not like what he was about to do - he hadn't ever intended to break his word to Teles - but somehow it seemed the right thing to do. Lowering his still-hoarse voice, he said, "There was something Teles told me, and... while I am not entirely comfortable with breaking her confidence, I believe it might... clarify matters somewhat." The monk realized belatedly that he'd dropped the honorific unintentionally and gave a silent swear at the slip.

Tightening his jaw slightly, Sesshoumaru inclined his head. "And what would that be?" he asked coolly.

"She ... for one reason or another, she had come to believe that you had grown to regret being mated to a human."

The youkai lord's chilly demeanor vanished. "She thought... what?" he asked, more than a little stunned.

"She believed that you did had come to regret being mated to her. Given your... prior... attitude on humans." He paused for a beat of silence. "She believed you no longer loved her."

Sesshoumaru didn't reply for nearly a full minute. "I... see," he managed quietly.

"It was her... assumption that by allowing her to remain with you, you were doing... the 'honorable' thing." He held the youkai's troubled gaze with his own calm one. "Was she right?"

The youkai lord glanced back at the library for a moment. "No, she was not." A short silence followed. "Feel free to take what you believe may prove helpful. If you need anything, Jaken should be somewhere about. In the meantime, I will speak with my brother." Without another word, Sesshoumaru turned, walking away quietly. He heard the monk join the huntress as they both worked to pack the scrolls up for transport. Normally, Sesshoumaru would have balked at letting something so priceless out of his sight. And yet...

Walking back to the den's entrance, Sesshoumaru gazed out at the surrounding woodland before closing his eyes and exhaling. Teles. Where could you have gone? As he stood there, feeling the brisk wind rustle his hair and clothes, slivers of conversation - from the huntress, from the monk, and from his brother - prodded gently at him.

'I can't imagine a pregnant woman making it all the way to Kaede-sama's village from here on foot.'

'Are you certain she traveled alone?'

'I want to help... I want to be around. I want to be there for him.'

Sesshoumaru opened his eyes, pursing his lips in thought as these realizations clicked together. And if... if Inuyasha found a pregnant woman wandering in the woods, especially one who bore the pup he wanted so badly to protect...

Golden eyes narrowed. Inuyasha.