Memoir of Sango...

In every story, there is sadness and grief, anger and pain, magic and adventure...

But, most of all... there is love. The only difference between books and reality, is reality doesn't have a 'the end'.

And out of all of those things, you should never regret anything. As my father told me, survival is not without sacrifice; not every ending can leave satisfying after a job well done. Ironically, without great conflict, a happy ending is unattainable. Just remember, in the final chapter, it always works out, regardless of the path chosen to get there…

I am Sango Takahashi. And this is my story.

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Session Thirty-One- Home

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Spring turns to summer, summer turns to autumn...

She really, really hated the smell of onions.

-Gurgle, gurgle- Sango closed her eyes, trying desperately to ignore the nausea forming in her stomach. Sinking into the chair, she pushed her lunch aside"Twelve stomach flu patients... now me."

Looking out the window, she tried to ignore the aroma of multiple varieties of food that blanketed the hospital cafeteria. Just four more hours, four more hours of work…

"I know a hospital is for sick people," Kagome stated, "but you should really go home if you're ill."

"I'm not sick," she replied, "I don't get sick."

"Well, either that or you're pregnant. Married life does do that to you." Awkward silence. "You're not pregnant... are you?"

Sango glared at her, flicking an onion her way. Kagome didn't respond, merely turning away and smiling to herself as if she knew something Sango didn't.

The doctor sighed. "I'm late Kagome."

"...How late?"

"Too late."

"Did you get tested?"

Sango nodded.

"Well, why didn't you use anything?"

"Ninety-nine percent effective. Funny, I always thought they put that on the boxes so they don't get sued if it fails."

Brown eyes looked at her worriedly. "So... when are you going to tell Miroku?"

'When I believe it myself.' "I guess tonight. I mean, it's not something I can hide after a certain point. But I'm twenty-one, not to mention I'm still in medical school."

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough, now if you'll excuse me," Sango stood up from the table, only to have another wave of nausea hit her.

You never really know how fast someone can run until you've seen them run to the bathroom.

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"You shouldn't over exert yourself."

Sango mumbled something inaudible into his shoulder as he carried her. He smirked. "What was that dear?"

"I said," she sat up, "I'm a doctor. It's what I do. That's why we take so many constitutionals. And you don't have to carry me; I'm perfectly capable of walking."

"You're not well. And since my driver's license expired four years ago, I'm content with you in my arms."

She smiled, snuggling against him as he held her. "Your birthday's next week. What do you want to do?"

"I'd like to have to have sex."

She rolled her eyes. "And how is that different from any other time?"

"It's birthday sex. It's the next best thing to make-up sex."

"Pervert."

"And you love me for it."

'And that's why I'm knocked up now,' she thought to herself at they traveled through the park. It was strange, more than a year ago; she was scared to death of this place, now they used it as a shortcut regularly. The path was still the same; the long winding branches of the wide Sakura trees that stood out among all the others, their pedals blanketing the ground into a pale rosy path. What had once been her nightmare now looked like a fantasy.

It was almost as if the whole world had changed before her eyes. Things she had ignored before now seemed more beautiful and vibrant than ever before. Everything was so… alive. 'Maybe this is how he sees the world.'

"You're awfully silent," said Miroku.

"Just… nostalgic," Sango replied, "it seems like the older I get, the faster time goes."

He chuckled. "Time…" he said, musing to himself, next thing you know, we'll be old and senile."

"You're already senile."

The smile on his face never faltered, even when she insulted him. Even after all they had been through, when he'd seen her at her worst, he still stayed with her, and she silently thanked him for it. Slowly, she realized her morning sickness had subsided.

"I'm feeling better, you can put me down now."

"I'd prefer to keep you up here; you seem to be slightly… uncoordinated at the moment."

"Well, I could always get motion sickness and vomit on your head, if you prefer."

"Heh, as you will, love." Gently, he set her down, watching as she collected herself. He had literally wandered a thousand miles, seen many places, and met hundreds of people. He watched sunsets and sunrises on the Sea of Japan and the Pacific, walked around Mount Fuji. And even after all that, she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"What?" she asked, catching his gaze.

He smirked. "Art appreciation."

At the inherent possessiveness in his tone, Sango felt some of her irritation decrease. She sighed, suddenly feeling much less ill. It never ceased to amaze her the way he could calm her, even if he was the one to ignite her emotions. He was a hopeless romantic, and sometimes a bit of a pervert.

'Just for that, I'm giving you a girl.'

She could see him now, walking around with a loopy grin on his face.

"Sango?"

She blinked, suddenly noticing the suspicion in his gaze as he watched her. She felt a tingle of anxiety work through her as she wondered if he had picked up on her thoughts somehow as he managed to do at times. Was she really that easy to read?

Instead, she smiled, entwining her fingers with his. "Let's go home."

He returned the smile. "Home."

Hand in hand, they walked home together, an unknown comfort settling between them after only a little more than a year together. But should she tell him now, tell him that she was carrying his unborn child?

'Neh.'

It could wait.

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The End

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And here it is, short and sweet. And this is the fourth version of the ending that I went through.

And after all of this, I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I did. I may rewrite it in a few months, but for now, with all its errors and possibly a few plot holes… it's perfect. Because I put myself into it, a part of myself that I don't think I've shown anyone.

Even though I know there's something else I want to put in this that I forgot, I just want to say thank you and… see you later.

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Miroku's Lyric: 1/11/2004- 9/25/2005 by Lynette K.