Thank you, akitokihojo, for always being such a gem and looking this over for me. You rock, pretty girl!

Tomorrow's Destiny

Chapter 4

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"Do you believe in fate? I mean, if you're meant to be with someone, fate will bring you together no matter what."

A shrill cry ripped from her throat as Sango woke with a start, sitting upright and clutching her chest in panic. The sound of crashing waves filled her ears as a deep ache ravaged her back, the pain nearly blinding her, before slowly fading to a dull throb the longer she was awake. Sweat dripped down her brow with each shuddered breath. Her gaze lifted, brown eyes studying the interior of the building she was all too familiar with.

There were notches in the wood near the bamboo door, measuring the heights of children as they grew. A small fire pit was left cold and empty save for the remains of burnt wood from dinner the night before. When Sango took a deep breath, she could pick up on the damp and musty smell of the home, evidence that it had rained not long ago.

Footsteps approached, and reflexively she reached for a sheathed blade within her robes. "Sango?" a man's voice called, and the familiarity of it caused tears to spring into her eyes.

"F-Father?" she murmured, her lips trembling.

A man pushed open the door, his concerned gaze falling on his daughter who still laid curled up in the bedding. Sango dropped her hand to her side, the weapon sliding out of her grasp, as she drank in the sight of the man who raised her.

"Are you all right?" his soothing voice rolled over her as he quickly surveyed the hut before studying her again. "I heard you scream."

Sango swallowed the hard lump at the back of her throat and shook her head. She stood and wrapped her arms around her father, the smell of sun-warmed cloth and wood smoke enveloping her - indication that her father had been with the weapon forgers that morning. His hands were covered in a sprinkling of white powder left over from crafting sickles made of demon bones, and he held her tightly in return, a sign of affection her soul had dearly missed.

"Sango?" he questioned again, the baritone of his voice reverberating through her. The low rumble of his voice was comforting as it wrapped around her, bringing back memories of her childhood - laughter in the village streets, training at a young age, stories of old that made her eyes light up in wonder. Her father's voice had a way of carrying her off to a world where sound was a power that could decimate even the darkest clouds.

Pushing a palm to her cheek to wipe away a lone tear, Sango pulled from her father's grasp and looked up at him sheepishly. "Sorry, Father. I suppose I just had a nightmare. I didn't mean to worry you."

His shoulders relaxed at her words as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow, more than likely caused by the hot summer sun versus panic of her wellbeing. He smiled easily, a fine net of wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes.

"Well, you do know how to keep an old man on his toes," he said with a chuckle. "Come now, Sango. It's nearly midday. Perhaps you should make haste, as there's still much work that needs to be done."

"Of course." Sango bowed low at the waist, and he swiftly exited the home, leaving her alone to dress.

While changing into her village clothes, Sango pondered what had occurred that morning to awaken her with such a start. She felt as if she had slept in darkness for a hundred years, in a place where no dreams dared to touch. It unnerved her, the black void that she had succumbed to so completely.

The silence of her home felt deafening as she surveyed the wooden structure, taking note of the pile of demon bones in the corner. She had trouble remembering when, exactly, she had fallen asleep, but her thoughts were cut short by the breeze wafting into the hut, carrying the lively chatter of the village.

Sango pulled open the bamboo door and gazed out at the hustle and bustle of the demon slayer village, just as clear as she always remembered it to be. "I'm home," she whispered, the concept a bittersweet taste on her tongue. She knitted her brows, the bewilderment becoming more pronounced the longer she stood there. It was a strange feeling, to be in a place she had known her entire life and yet feel like an intruder.

She began walking unusually slowly, almost robotically, as if her brain was struggling to tell each foot to take the next step. Village women bowed in greeting as she passed, the men throwing a glance her way over their shoulders. These acknowledgements were not new to her. Being a female slayer was not only unheard of but frowned upon. She couldn't count how many times the village women would come to her at the river or after she had finished training for the day, pestering her about when she was going to wed and have children. Sango always questioned as to why that had to be her only goal in life? She was meant to do more than just bear children.

Which, perhaps, was the main reason as to why she never received any romantic advances from the boys in the village. No man wanted to court a woman who could beat him in a fight. Sango only wished they could see her as an equal rather than an oddity.

It didn't take long for Sango to find her brother near the center of the village, sitting on a friendly, old lady's porch, playing with their two-tailed demon feline, Kirara.

"Good morning, Kohaku!" she called out with a wave.

Kohaku's gentle, brown eyes met hers as he gave her a smile, one that seemed so genuinely sweet with just a touch of shyness, causing unexpected warmth to rush through her. His innocence displayed candidly in his expression, a boy who knew nothing of the harsh world outside their walls. "Good morning, Sister!"

"Help me, Sango. I'm so afraid…"

His voice, usually timid in nature and filled with lighthearted tones, suddenly resonated with terror. Sango froze in her tracks, her breath catching. The middle of her back began to throb again, fleeting images of a nightmare that had woken her so abruptly flashed through her mind - images of a dying Kohaku. Her body felt hot and sweat started trickling down her neck, her eyes watering and her hands shaking. Sango felt sick.

Her brother was a kind-natured soul. He didn't like the training the slayers endured, or the idea of killing demons someday. He loathed fighting, and Sango couldn't rightfully blame him, which caused him to remain safe inside the village while the more experienced fighters exterminated demons in the surrounding lands. Having a fear that Kohaku would die was… realistic, but not as he was now. The timid boy who didn't have a hateful bone in his body wouldn't be venturing out on demon exterminations anytime soon.

But she couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

"Sango?"

Kohaku's voice pulled her back from her thoughts, and she immediately reached for him and wrapped him in her arms. His muffled protests fell on deaf ears as she tried to slow the erratic beating of her heart and the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. Her deepest and truest fear had come to life in a nightmare without prompt, and she needed to remind herself that that was all it was - a nightmare.

Finally, Sango allowed him to pull away from her. Kohaku's expression had twisted into one of bemusement with a pink coloring of his cheeks. She smiled at him, wiping away tears brimming in her eyes. "Sorry," she murmured, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. "It's time to start your training for today."

Regardless of how timid Kohaku usually was, there was a questionable doubt in his eyes, and Sango knew he had been perplexed by her reaction that morning. But he, instead, allowed it to be, and replied with, "I don't want to train."

Sango watched him begin to sulk, as per usual, when she encouraged him to train. Although, she knew this time her instruction of him would be different. Something deep inside her wanted to push him harder, because one day he would need to know how to defend himself or kill a demon. The skills she taught him could be what tipped the balance between life and death.

"I know you don't like fighting, but someday you may need these skills to defend yourself or others," she persuaded.

Kohaku nodded his head, ultimately knowing she had a point, before he stood up to fetch his kusarigama. As Sango waited, Kirara jumped on her shoulder and purred affectionately, as if knowing something troubled her. Brown eyes lifted to the midday sun and she thanked the gods for today. She knew tomorrow wasn't promised.

"I don't like him," Sango argued with her arms folded over her chest. "He's an outsider."

Her father didn't look up from where he was stirring a pot of stew. "Sango, I understand your concerns, but the man would have died if we had not helped him."

"Then so be it," she snapped, causing her father to pause and finally meet her gaze, his lips set in a thin line. She ignored his obvious disapproval of her outburst. "Our priority is our people and keeping this village safe. Who's to say that fox demon accompanying him won't tell the rest of his clan and bring the breath of hell upon us?"

"That fox demon is just a child. I don't believe he poses any real danger. Besides, Kirara has never pursued harm against us, demonstrating that not all demons are malevolent toward humans," he reasoned. "And Miroku is a man of the cloth; surely he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our lifestyle."

Sango's frown deepened, her hand wrapping tightly around the cloth of her sleeve. "Please, tell me he'll be leaving as soon as he can."

"I promise." Her father stood, towering over Sango's athletic frame. "Now, the women have brought him to the medical house. I would like you to tend to his wounds."

She gaped, her eyebrows arched toward the sky. "Me?! Why must I be the one? Surely there are far more capable healers that can care for him!"

"Sango." This time his voice was stern, powerful enough to make her bones feel like they were vibrating. His eyes had lost all frivolity he felt only moments before, and his posture had changed to being upright and rigid. Even though Sango was his daughter, he was the headman, and thus his orders were not to be questioned. More often than not, Sango's independent nature would slip and she would disobey him.

This time, she decided it wasn't a battle worth fighting over. "As you wish," she grumbled, making it known that she was not happy about his command, as she pushed her way out of their home and toward where the stranger had been brought.

When Sango arrived, the fox kit was pacing outside, appearing rather distressed. His small stature and obvious nervous character made her ponder her father's words about how all demons weren't as monstrous as she thought. "Shippou, right?"

Green eyes peered up at her ambivalently, and she was sure he was questioning whether or not to escape while he had the chance. "Y-Yes?"

She studied him for a moment longer, realizing her father may be right, and that the fox kit posed no real threat. A sigh slipped from her lips.

"I'll see what I can do." Not waiting for a response, she pushed her way into the hut.

Upon her entrance, the other village women took their leave. Sango knelt down beside the man who had fallen unconscious as soon as the guards interrogated them. Miroku's forehead was slick with sweat, cool and clammy, and blood had soaked into the fabric of his robes. Moving quickly, the slayer undressed his chest and went to work on cleaning and bandaging the wound, taking special care not to allow her eyes to linger on the man's handsome features. She couldn't readily determine if he had been poisoned or not, although Shippou had mentioned upon their arrival that it was a good chance he had, so Sango administered their most potent antidote in the hopes it would combat whichever toxin he suffered from.

Once she was finished, Sango moved to leave, but paused. Although she was a slayer, and a distinguished one at that, she was still a woman, and couldn't help but gaze down at her charge. Miroku's dark hair had been pulled into a tail at the nape of his neck, and his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he dreamed. His pale lips, a perfect cupid's bow, were relaxed in slumber, but she dared to hope to see his smile one day. Something familiar drew her to the man, yet she was sure she had never crossed paths with him before.

"Somehow it's different with us. You see, Sango. I've never had such strong feelings for a woman as I do you."

Sango drew in a sharp breath, a man's silky voice whispering into her ear. The voice was unexpected. It was low, with a trace of huskiness and with a hint of more power than Miroku's frail body would suggest. She had a brief flashing memory of a man; his face was shadowed, and yet, she knew this man had been a close companion, one she trusted with her life. And… perhaps, more than that. Her heart beat rapidly beneath her breast, and she fought down the deep longing just to brush a hand over Miroku's cheek. Before she could even understand what she was doing, she knelt down beside him again. Her fingers reached out, tentatively gliding through his bangs, slick with sweat, and quelling the strange emotions inside her briefly. She wanted to embrace him. Kiss him. Love him.

Miroku began to stir, and Sango shot to her feet, a heated blush working its way up her neck to flush her cheeks. Within seconds, she had pushed her way outside of the house and passed Shippou's quizzical expression.

How could she, a woman of such strength and pride, be turned into a puddle simply by being in Miroku's presence? Her bizarre emotions he had somehow pulled to the surface only solidified her feelings.

She didn't like him at all.

There were many things Sango had learned about Miroku during their journey together. The most prominent one was that he was completely and irrevocably a flirt. After they had become close traveling companions, she couldn't count how many times she had to slap his hand away from her rear, or leave a mark on his face, or even pummel him with Hirakotsu when he went after the women during their short stays in various villages. She had even grown impressed with his inability to give up on his advances. In the demon slayer village, she had very little romantic experiences, especially since she was different from the other village girls. Most times, she would beat the men when sparring, which was probably the reason why most of the village boys didn't find her very attractive.

Who would want to wed a woman stronger and more athletic than he? Already she had been reprimanded by her teachers and friends for being so deviant. She ignored them, deciding her passion to fight and protect was worth more than a few choice words. Her father had always given her his full support, so most gossiping remained out of ear shot.

But traveling with Miroku - it was strange. Initially, she had kept him at arm's length, still too apprehensive about the unwarranted emotions she continued trying to make sense of. When she first had gazed unabashedly into his violet eyes, there had been something about him that she knew she'd never find in another man, as if in that moment their souls had made a bridge. And she was finally able to see his smile as he made a corny joke that made her roll her eyes. There was something about the way he grinned though; the way it made her feel as if butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of her stomach. It transformed him from someone threatening to someone she wished she knew. Even so, it took a long time for her to return that smile.

When Sango finally began letting her guard down, the conversations they shared came easily, and he made her laugh in ways other boys never could. And though she swatted his hand away on more than one occasion, a small part of her waited for him to reach out again.

"I think I see it!" Shippou announced from where he sat upon Miroku's shoulder.

Trusting his heightened senses, Sango quickened her pace to the top of the hill and looked down at the small village nestled in the valley. It was a quaint little settlement with shallow rivers and woods surrounding the otherside. It didn't appear uninviting, but still, Sango remained alert. Although she was neither for nor against the existence of half-demons, it made her wonder what other demons may be lurking in the village below.

As if sensing her unease, Miroku placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let us see if they can offer us a room for the night."

Sango gifted him a strained smile as the trio began their trek into town. The main village seemed normal enough - townsfolk repairing houses, buying goods, or traveling in from the fields for the day. What struck her as odd were the cautious glares they received from the villagers. A woman pushed a child behind her, while another one hurried inside. Men seemed to hold their tools tighter, their body language tense and rigid. It was obvious that the village was not accustomed to outsiders. Although Sango, Miroku, and Shippou didn't appear threatening, the small village appeared quick to be on the defensive.

"Well, isn't this a warm greeting?" Shippou murmured, green eyes watching the townsfolk exchange whispers behind covered hands.

The trio didn't venture far before an elderly woman approached them, flanked by several village men who were up in arms with spears and bows. Sango stiffened and her hand found its habitual place snug in Hirakotsu's handle. Miroku took a small step in front of her, a gesture of protection that irked her and was certainly unnecessary. Sango had quarreled with him in the past regarding it during their battles, but he had simply waved off her concerns with something along the lines of, "What kind of man would I be if I left a woman to fend for herself?"

She still detested his action, but it was not a time to be bickering.

"What business do ye have with our village?" the old woman questioned. An eye patch covered her right eye, but her good eye looked mystified at their arrival.

"Pardon the intrusion. We don't mean to startle you," Miroku began, ever kind in his well-mannered way. "We've recently been in battle and we're looking for a place to rest."

The old woman, who must have been some sort of headman by the way the other villagers looked to her, studied them closely. "I suppose one night won't do any harm. My name is Kaede. I offer ye a night in my home if ye so choose."

"Lady Kaede!" one of the village men cried out in alarm, for what reason Sango still didn't understand.

"Hush, now," she quieted him with a stern glare. "We cannot allow our lives to be led in fear, lest we cower in the face of our enemies. These people do not seem to have ill-will toward us."

"You are too kind," Sango lamented with a bow at the waist. "We accept your humble offering."

Kaede nodded curtly, motioning with her hand to follow them. As they walked, Sango studied the eldlerly woman. She was stout and dressed in the robes of a priestess, her gray hair pulled into a tight samurai bun. A bow was strung over her shoulder accompanied by a quiver of arrows, and even with only one eye to see, Sango had a feeling the old woman rarely missed her mark.

"It may be a little early, yet, to give up on your brother."

Sango startled, stopping in her tracks. "E-Excuse me?"

The old priestess paused and looked over her shoulder with a quizzical expression. "I said t'was still early, so I may prepare a broth for the meal."

She gave a strained smile. "R-Right."

In the very brief moment before Kaede had spoken, the world had felt frigid cold. The overwhelming anguish nearly crumpled her. But, Sango had no sense as to where those emotions had come from. Just like her nightmares - now a faded memory - the emotions came without cause and disappeared just as quickly as a breath.

There was a lot that left Sango unsettled, perplexed and wondering why her emotions were so precarious. Though she was sure one thing to be true: whatever despair had brought these strange emotions, she hoped she would never come to face the source head on.

The springs Kaede had guided her to were just what the slayer's aching muscles longed for. Although Sango was no stranger to battle, they had taken part in a far greater amount of near-death encounters than she had been accustomed to. She dressed in fresh village clothes that Kaede had supplied her with so she may wash her own in the river that flowed just outside of the old priestess's hut. The grass on the bank was sun-warmed beneath her feet, and Sango paused for just a moment to relish the singing cicadas in the trees. It had been a while since she had taken a moment to reflect.

When Sango had first heard the rumors that there was a village inhabited by half-demons, she had been just as surprised as Miroku and Shippou. Her father hadn't offered any further details on the matter and had simply shrugged off her curiosity. She had almost forgotten about it until today. It wasn't often she traveled this far for demon exterminations.

As she began wandering the village now, though, the slayer had a hard time fitting the rumors to what she saw. The children playing in the streets appeared like normal children, although she thought it odd the way some of them dressed. A few had wool caps on, which was strange considering the heat of the afternoon sun, and others were dressed head-to-toe in cloth that revealed little skin. Parents watched on cautiously, and Sango felt uneasy with the studious eyes glaring at her. Kaede had welcomed them in for the night, but Sango knew the feeling wasn't the same in the village streets.

She couldn't readily determine if there were, in fact, any half-demons living amongst them, as their demonic auras were much more muted compared to their full counterparts. Unless one was a very powerful spiritual being, it was hard to tell their aura's apart. The scent of their blood was what really made them stick out. She would have to question Shippou later to see if he could tell the difference.

Sango soon wandered away from the village and the glares of onlookers, instead venturing toward the forest bordering the town. Even at home, Sango was a solitary person and spent most of her time alone. She didn't have many friends, as her interest in slaying often off-put any relations she was able to build. So for the first time in a while, she was able to enjoy her own company. Kaede was kind enough, but cautious, and Miroku's antics were often something left to the birds. Instead, she relished the sounds of chirping birds the further she wandered into the trees as her thoughts dwelled on her family back home. She missed her father and brother dearly and wondered how they were fairing without her. The hoard of demons they had been tracking had fled, but their numbers had been nearly cut in half thanks to Sango and Miroku's efforts. Even so, there was still work to be done, and Sango feared it would still be some time before she was able to return home and see her family again.

While walking, Sango passed by a lone well and peeked her head inside. It was dry and empty save for the bones of demons far below and the vines that clung to the wooden walls. It was curious that it would be so far away from the rest of the village. She peered around the area and her attention was caught by the sight of a tall tree not far away, and curiously she wandered toward it.

Sango entered a small clearing in which the tall tree resided. Brown eyes gazed up into the magnificent branches, its leaves swaying in the gentle, midday breeze. Her feet moved on their own accord, bringing her closer to the sprawling roots, and the tips of her fingers pressing against the trunk. The bark was cool beneath her fingers, but it pulsed with an energy she had not felt before.

"Now that that's settled, let's tend to your wounds", a compassionate voice spoke, a gentle hand upon her aching back.

"But, why would you still help me?" she asked, her voice cracking with tears threatening to spill.

A sharp retort. "Will you stop whining, Sango? We want you to stick with us because you're not a half-bad fighter, and that's all there is to it!"

Murmured words of conversation, her heart overwhelmed with relief and comfort.

"Sango, don't you like us anymore?"

"...but…" she spoke, no longer able to hold her tears back.

A warm embrace, fingers skimming through her hair, a gentle smile.

"It's gonna be okay, Sango. I promise."

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Sango's neck stood at attention, pulling her from what felt like a memory, a long forgotten moment, and back to the present. She remained perfectly still, her heartbeat quickening against her ribcage as her senses heightened on the muted demonic aura that remained nearly imperceptible.

"Show yourself," she demanded of the cluster of forest trees surrounding her. Whoever lurked in the shadows wanted their presence known, whether to scare her or inflict another emotion she wasn't quite sure. Her eyes slid to peer over her shoulder, watching the clearing intently.

A man clothed in red landed quietly from the trees, golden eyes glaring at her apprehensively, as he cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner. Immediately she knew he wasn't human by the unusual amber color of his eyes, the fangs he snarled with, and the ears alert upon his head.

"Keh. You're no ordinary human." His rough voice held a touch of familiarity to it she couldn't quite place, like it would forever be perched on the tip of her tongue.

Sango raised a brow and turned to fully face him, her interest peaked but her guard up. "And, you're no ordinary demon," she fired back.

He narrowed his eyes. "I heard you tell the old hag you're a demon slayer."

"Is that a problem?"

"What's your true purpose here?" he demanded, his throat letting loose a low, guttural sound.

"Just as we told Lady Kaede. To rest after battle."

"Keh. Well, the old hag ain't great when it comes to the judgement of strangers."

Sango tilted her head. "Well, we won't be staying long, I assure."

"I can promise you that," he spat out, hands clenched into fists, his defensive stance ready to pounce should he need to.

As she opened her mouth to respond, Sango's retort was cut short as another, more potent demonic aura overcame the clearing, and both her and the half-demon's attention was torn in the direction where the dry well stood. Her reaction quick, Sango sprinted in the direction of Kaede's hut where her Hirakotsu was, ignoring the shouted, "Hey!" from the not-so-nice half-demon she left behind.

"Hey, Sango," Shippou called out upon seeing her arrive in a flurry, her breath quick, and her cheeks flushed. "What's-"

"Demons," she simply shouted, her hand finding Hirakotsu's handle as Kirara immediately transformed. At her word, Shippou's eyes widened, his young nose finally picking up on the scent of demon blood in the distance.

Sango didn't wait for Miroku or Shippou to follow. She ran beside Kirara, leaping on her demon feline's back, and riding toward the old well. When she breached the tree line, she found the soured half-demon jumping through the air to avoid an attack from the mass of demons she and Miroku had been tracking during their adventure together. The half-demon didn't seem to be faring well against them and had already suffered injuries if his blood-stained haori spoke of anything.

A snake-like demon managed to grab the half-demon's arm in its fangs, pinning him to the ground. The half-demon shouted out in pain, before quickly digging his claws into his own blood, and shouting, "Blades of Blood!" Several red, crescent-shaped blades flew out toward the demons, severing a few of their heads, rendering him freed. He leapt away from the enemies and landed softly on the grass with a wince, his painful expression revealing that he had more than likely been poisoned.

Sango clenched her jaw, her hand tightening around Hiraikotsu. She watched as the hoard of demons once again went on the offensive, immediately seeking out the half-demon, who looked worse for wear. She wasn't sure if he could handle himself in battle, although his arrogant attitude she had encountered earlier implied that he could, but she wasn't involving herself in a fight for his life.

She was fighting for the lives of her comrades, and all the villages these demons had slaughtered.

"Hiraikotsu!"

Her large weapon flew through the air and skimmed just short of where the half-demon stood, his silver hair whipping in the wind caused by the boomerang, as it sliced through the demons and caused blood to rain down. The demons screeched out in pain as Hiraikotsu made another pass before easily returning to its master's hand. Once secured, Sango leapt from Kirara's back and took a protective stance in front of the half-demon.

"If you're going to just get in my way, I suggest you make haste and leave," she demanded of him, not wanting to worry about a weakling who couldn't handle his own.

The half-demon was stunned for a moment before climbing to his feet. "Keh. I can take care of myself. It's you who should flee. You're just a human!"

She glared back at him, her eyes fierce. "Don't underestimate me. I am a demon slayer!"

A midnight sky. Soft glow of a fire. A conversation of heartfelt understanding.

The half-demon's eyes glowed with a sharp intensity, and Sango frowned, not willing to recognize the emotion shown in them of one she had experienced on her own.

"What are you trying to prove?" he growled back at her, hand clenched tightly over the wound in his arm.

Images began flooding her mind, of a comrade dressed in red, a shining light during battle, someone who she trusted with her life. His face remained shadowed, but his amber eyes glowed, a familiar sense of trust radiating from within them.

"Watch out!"

The half-demon's shout shook Sango from the hazy, confusing, and beguiling visions overtaking her thoughts, bringing her back to the present battle at hand. She leapt out of the way of a demon's attack, before shouting and throwing Hiraikotsu again, watching as it whipped through the hoard of demons and leaving carnage in its wake. Her attack must have been enough to cause unease among them, for as soon as Hiraikotsu returned to her hand, the demons began their escape.

So unsettled was Sango by the flash of hallucinations that she couldn't move herself to follow after the demons. Her breath came heavily, as if she had just run cross-country, yet she knew her stamina couldn't have burnt out so easily. Sweat dripped from her brow, her limbs shook, and a lump formed in her stomach.

"Sango!" Miroku called as he and Shippou arrived in the clearing.

Brown eyes glanced at them briefly before turning her gaze onto the half-demon beside her. He stood up, rolling his shoulder as if he had simply pulled a muscle, and began walking away from them.

"Are you all right?" Shippou questioned, looking up at her with fretful, green eyes.

And, Sango couldn't find the words to answer him.

Sango watched the stream, lost in the rhythmic pace of water flowing past the shore. Her eyes were steady to the horizon; rich hues of red blended with oranges, purples, and crimsons. The beauty of the sunset only intensified Sango's perplexion. Her encounter with the half-demon earlier that day had left her stunned, the emotions within her running rampant, and even though she could brandish a cool exterior even in the warmest of rays, this time she had trouble hiding the fervor that half-demon's presence had riled within her.

"Sango?"

She turned to see Miroku had met her at the river bank, his brows knitted with concern. The sound of birds drew her attention skyward, and she watched as a flock flew overhead. The birds were silhouettes against the orange-kissed heavens, flying home for the night in which they could roost until dawn came again.

"I thought I knew what it meant to be a slayer," Sango said quietly, folding her arms around herself as if to hide her vulnerability from the man beside her.

Miroku watched her carefully. "Did something happen to make you question that?"

She chewed on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. "Actually, you did. Shippou did. That half-demon I encountered today…"

"What is it that troubles you?"

"There's something stirring within me. Something I can't quite place my finger on, but it's been a constant tug on my thoughts since you stumbled into the slayer village."

Miroku pursed his lips. "Have I done something to upset you?"

She shook her head. Perhaps his presence was part of it, but there was something more hovering just beneath the surface. "My father had explained to me that not all demons are malevolent toward us. Do you believe that to be true?"

He smiled genuinely at her, setting a gentle hand upon her shoulder. "Do you believe Kirara to be an enemy? What about young Shippou? Surely you've seen it with your own eyes that not all demonic creatures are malicious."

Sango nodded slowly. "That half-demon today…"

"Inuyasha?" Miroku clarified. Her eyes widened. He chuckled. "He does have a name. Lady Kaede divulged it to me."

"I see. Then… Inuyasha. He reminds me so much of…" She let her sentence trail, not sure exactly what he reminded her of and found putting her feelings into words had become much more difficult than she had thought.

"There ye are." Their conversation was interrupted as the old priestess found them. Kaede smiled openly at them, a much different greeting than they had originally received when they had first arrived. "I wish for ye to accompany me."

Miroku and Sango exchanged a puzzled glance before abiding by Kaede's wishes and following after her. She led them past the hut that she called home and toward a stone staircase that led them up a large hill overlooking the village.

"Where are you leading us, Lady Kaede?" Miroku asked as they followed after her.

"So, you've met Inuyasha," she said, ignoring his question. "He's quite the character, is he not?"

She glanced back over her shoulder with her good eye, watching Sango carefully and indicating her question was directed toward her. Sango blushed under her gaze, not sure how to answer the elder's question.

Kaede chuckled, her raspy voice rolling over them. "If ye look beyond the grouchy exterior, ye shall see what I mean. Tis' why I've allowed him to stick around for so long. He's not like that around people he's grown fond of."

"What do you mean?" Sango questioned, recalling the sharp tongue Inuyasha had first greeted her with, the guarded gaze that greeted her from the trees. Surely a hot-tempered half-demon such as he couldn't possibly be kind. Could he?

"He had sensed the battle between ye and the demons ye spoke of long before ye wandered into this village," Kaede continued, once again not quite answering the question aimed toward her. "He has been watching ye since ye arrived."

"That isn't surprising, with him being a half-demon and all," Miroku countered. "I'm sure he has heightened demonic senses, does he not?"

"Aye. That he does. They come in handy quite often within the village."

Sango pondered over the priestess's words. With Inuyasha having heightened senses compared to that of a full-fledged demon, why was it that he hesitated in attacking her in the clearing? Surely he could have caught her unaware and have attempted to end her life. So what stopped him?

They reached the top of the stairs and gazed upon what appeared to be a sacred shrine. It had an otherworldly appearance to it, with the surrounding trees allowing streams of sunset to dance upon the tomb which bore a beautiful name. Delicate blue bellflowers rested on the ground before it, a homage to the stunning soul that used to walk the earth.

"This is the resting place of my sister, Kikyou," Kaede explained, wrinkles appearing at the corners of her eyes as she looked on fondly.

"Your sister?" Miroku questioned, a single hand in prayer as he bowed his head, murmuring a few words from the Buddha text.

"She was a priestess like you?" Sango asked, taking note of the shrine maiden attributes decorating the grave.

"That she was," Kaede confirmed. "Although, my sister was a far more powerful and benevolent priestess than I."

"How so?" Miroku questioned.

"My sister Kikyou was once the protector of the Jewel of Four Souls."

Sango's breath caught. Her father's words of wisdom came rushing back, the fabled teachings of the Shikon Jewel being engrained in her memory - of an incredibly powerful priestess who battled demons for seven days and nights, eventually reaching into her own body for strength, and forcing out what was to be known as the Sacred Jewel; a powerful, marble-sized jewel which could grant immense power to whoever possessed it, and in which the battle between the priestess and demon continued to wage within.

But…

"The Sacred Jewel is said to have disappeared fifty years ago," Sango argued, knowing that no such powerful object existed in modern times.

"Aye, that it did." Kaede sighed deeply, her eye turning skyward. "'Twas my sister who made it so, and 'twas my sister who Inuyasha fell in love with."

Her last sentiment caught Sango off guard. She didn't know much about half-demons, but she knew full well the workings of demons. Majority of them were ruthless creatures who knew no bounds when it came to slaughtering innocents. It was only recently that she had come to realize not all demons were malevolent. But, to believe that Inuyasha could fall in love with a human - a priestess, no less - was hard for her to wrap her mind around.

Child-like laughter drew Sango's attention back to the staircase, and as she peered down to the village below, she saw something that triggered a warmth in her chest. Inuyasha, the proud and arrogant half-demon who only earlier that day threatened her life with his claws, was walking along the riverbank with children. The kids looked up at him, laughing and smiling, while tugging on his haori, and Inuyasha - never seen without a scowl on his face - smiled down at them with a look of content, as if he actually enjoyed their presence.

Taking a closer look, Sango could see the ears from the children's heads, now free from their wool caps, and the scales that shined upon their skin, free from their restrictive clothing. Tails twitched openly in the air as claws glinted in the waning sunlight. It wasn't just normal children Inuyasha occupied himself with. It was half-demon children, smiling and looking carefree, like normal village children.

As Sango admired Inuyasha from afar she realized that though she may not know Inuyasha, it seemed to her that a sight such as this was rare. That perhaps, not all demons were bad, that half-demons were just as real as she, and there was so much more to their story than what met her eyes.