The Source of Solace

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, etc. Rumiko Takahashi has that singular privilege. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

THE SOURCE OF SOLACE

A/N: Thank you for all of the constructive reviews. They keep me balanced, and give me inspiration when I am staring at the screen in stupidity, cursing writer’s block with appropriately foul snarls. XP

WARNING! Dark imagery and lime, adult situations, issues and foul language.

CHAPTER TEN

She was warm, and held close. She wondered idly how that could be, but the soft fur against her cheek reassured her. Perhaps it was only a childhood memory, called up from the misty dimness of her past. She had been wrapped in natural furs in the small egg-like shape of the hatchery, the only tactile contact she had been allowed until the first three years of her life had passed.

It was soothing, though, and she snuggled into it. Beneath her ear, she could hear the strong, slow beat of a heart pumping life through the body, and she wondered at it. There was no such sound that she could remember in the womb-chamber of her nursery…

Sango slowly allowed herself to wake, reluctant to let go of such a lovely memory, such a lovely dream. But her body was already betraying her, stirring subtly in the automatic exercises that she had been taught so thoroughly that they were ingrained into her muscles and she had no conscious recognition or control of them anymore. One at a time, she could feel her muscles quiver and flex in the slow, minute releasing of sleep-numbed fatigue. Her hazy mind grew focused, and she was surprised to find that the soft warmth that surrounded her was NOT a mere figment of her drowsing mind.

With a sharp inhalation at the startling thought, Sango woke---stared in shock at the blue eyes that stared down into hers---and rolled free with sudden, skilled adroitness.

Throwing the entangling blankets off of her body, she crouched in a defensive position some length from the youkai. She held one hand out in claw-like defense, the other already picking up the nearest weapon to hand---a fist-sized rock. Not much, but it would do in a pinch.

She knew without conscious thought or particularly caring that she was stark naked, but having found herself wrapped up in a blue-eyed demon’s arms was of far more important at the moment than her dubious lack of clothing.

“Sango?” There was a curious lilt to the question, and Sango’s eyes flicked to the side, taking in the puzzled expression on the girl’s face. The girl was sitting in the lap of a silver-haired hanyou, and Sango KNEW her somehow.

Memory was fuzzy, but Sango concentrated, calling the name to her. “Kagome,” she said, putting a designation to the familiar girl’s face. She stared hard at the hanyou, and knew him too.

“Inuyasha.”

He smirked back at her, and Sango’s gaze transferred to the black-haired youkai who had held her while she slept as the hanyou had held the other girl, Kagome. Her brown eyes narrowed, and she said in a flat tone, “You are Kouga.”

He simply stared back at her, his pale blue eyes unfathomable.

~Kouga…~

A wisp of memory intruded, of claws gently reaching out to touch her cheek, her chin raised up so that she could stare earnestly into his eyes, the pain welling up along with the certainty that he was safe…home…

Sango blanched, and suddenly, it all came back to her.

Everything.

She lost her balance at the shock, and sprawled back on her bare ass like some untrained apprentice. Her father would have been humiliated to see her react like that, but damn.

Damn.

“Sango?”

Kagome was scrambling out of her mate’s arms, and rushing to her side. Sango held up a hand to signal that she was all right, that the other girl did not need to comfort her, but Kagome ignored the futile gesture. Grabbing Sango’s hand in hers, Kagome used her other hand to feather the fingers across Sango’s face in some type of reassurance to herself that she, Sango, was okay.

“Sango? Are you all right?”

Sango looked into the anxious brown eyes, and smiled faintly. “Yes, Kagome-chan, I am all right.”

“Are you…” Kagome stopped, still concerned.

Sango squeezed the girl’s fingers reassuringly. She paused, trying to find the word to explain how fully recovered SHE was. “I am…myself.”

Confusion joined the worry in the soft brown eyes, and Sango whispered in wonder, trying to clarify, “Kagome, I REMEMBER.”

The surprise in her whisper was not for what she now recalled, but for the fact that she HAD forgotten so much.

~So much…but how? Psychological repression?~ The Identity Alteration forced on her was intense, but it could not have swallowed everything of her ingrained memory away. Her training, her upbringing, that had been intense as well, and fashioned her to thwart such intrusions as memory-wipe and psychological reprogramming.

But perhaps there had been a part of her that had desired forgetfulness…

Sango looked inward, and flinched.

*~*~*~*~*

Kagome saw her flinch, and misinterpreted it.

“You’re cold.” She announced, and glared at Kouga. Slipping her hand from Sango’s, the other girl quickly draped a thermal blanket over her shoulders to cover her nakedness. Sango had barely been conscious of it, and now she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. Ducking her head, she barely heard Kagome scolding the males with unusual ire.

~She’s supplementing…ignoring my anamnesis to focus on something less---scary---that she can deal with right now.~

Funny how the medical terms given her by one of the psy-medics on Station Nine could come to her now to explain Kagome’s odd behavior. Kagome was actually ordering the two males out of the cave, demanding they go and find something for breakfast. Inuyasha glowered, but went. Kouga paused a moment, to look back at her, but Sango wouldn’t meet his too-blue gaze, feeling suddenly shy.

Her father would have been stunned.

With a sharp gesture, Kouga turned away and there was a startling commotion as all of his four-legged brothers decided it was a perfect time to head out as well. Their din covered Sango’s withdrawal until suddenly she and Kagome were alone in the echoing emptiness of the dimly lit cavern.

Kagome wasted no time in riffling through Kouga’s carry-sack, grumbling under her breath that wasn’t it just typical, the youkai having brought clothing for himself and nothing else! Pulling free a pair of denims and a crumpled silk shirt, she thrust them at Sango with a lop-sided smile. “Sorry, Sango-chan. That’s all I could find.”

Sango smiled faintly. Trust Kagome to think she would care. She gratefully took the girl’s offering and stumbled her way into clothing far too large for her. They had to have been Kouga’s, for the length of the leg and the expanse of the shirt’s shoulders. Sango rolled up the sleeves that hung past her hands, as well as the cuffs of the pants so that she could at least move around without tripping over them.

Kagome had busied herself re-lighting the fire and tidying up their impromptu campsite. Sango felt a strange sense of unreality as she watched Kagome neatly fold the thermal blankets into cushiony seats around the fire. She had tried to help, but Kagome had waved her aside, saying that she looked exhausted, and should rest.

Sango did feel strangely surreal as all the adrenaline that had awoken her rather abruptly from sleep drained away. She was content to let Kagome ‘nest’ as the girl’s maternal instinct was termed, and allow her mind to drift in hazy insight, slightly overwhelmed by the thoughts and memories that now flooded her awareness with odd sensations of déjà vu…

She roused when Kagome shook her shoulder. Sango blinked in confusion, and was surprised to find that she had drifted off into a light doze. Some time had passed, and both youkai and hanyou had returned to the cave. Inuyasha bent over the snapping fire, growling about cooking over a pit and Kagome just laughed. The scene was almost homey, and Sango felt uncertain as Kagome went to help her mate serve up spliced bush-tail on primitive spits.

A warm blast of air on her cheek made Sango turn in surprise, and the huge gray wolf she had met once before gave her a toothy grin. His breath was heavy with the almost rancid smell of fresh-caught meat. He had already had his share of breakfast, and had eaten it the ookami way---raw. Sango smiled at the memory of Kouga teasing Inuyasha over breakfast in the cabin months before, and then blinked as her inadvertent backrest---the wolf---slid deferentially away as the youkai lord approached.

“You are awake.” He said, his blue eyes intense.

Sango felt strangely shy with him, and dropped her gaze from his. “Yes.”

“Hungry?” His tone was gruff, and Sango appreciated that.

“Yes.” She felt like an idiot, something entirely new to her reawakened experience.

Kouga extended a clawed hand to help her up, and Sango hesitated briefly before slipping her hand into his. Her father would have paroxysms if he had ever known she would be taking help from a youkai lord, of all things. But Kouga was not a demon, not an enemy, as she had been taught. She wondered what else she had been disciplined to believe was false…

His claws curled over her fingers and Sango slid gracefully to her feet. He did not release her hand, even though she half-expected he would, until he had drawn her to the cook-fire. Kagome looked up with a welcoming smile, busily opening leaf-wrapped tubers from the glowing ashes as her mate divvied up the three bush-tails they had snared to break their fast.

Sango sank down on one of the impromptu cushions, her stomach telling her in no uncertain terms that it was empty. Her mouth watered as Inuyasha handed over her share on a wide, sturdy leaf-frond she had often seen growing near water. The slightly curving frond made a sturdy plate, and Sango had no problem using her fingers for lack of any other utensil. The meat, thoroughly cooked for human sensibilities, was hot, and she burned her mouth on the first bite.

Kagome giggled at her expression, and handed over the water-flask she had purloined from Kouga’s carry-sack. Sango flushed, feeling stupid---something which felt entirely foreign, and yet increasingly familiar.

“Careful.” Kouga said, sliding down next to her in a graceful movement. Sango’s blush grew hotter at having to be reminded like some apprentice, and she used the flask to hide her uneasy confusion over the ookami’s sudden concern for her. He was acting almost…solicitous…toward her, and the answering warmth of emotion that stirred inside of her for the startling idea was even more disturbing.

Ducking her head, Sango pretended to ignore her own uneasiness, as well as the questions in everyone’s eyes. They respected her enough to make no demands while they ate, but Sango knew that she owed them an explanation of what, exactly, had occurred. And although she was uncertain what, if not who, had caused her memories to return, they were there now for the sifting.

Not that it would be easy. She had been programmed since birth to hold her secrets tightly to her. Taught so well, in fact, that she had survived both the darkly inventive interrogations of Naraku and later the more prosaic, if no less painful, attempts by Station Nine’s authorities. She had kept her mouth closed, a bit white-lipped perhaps, but still closed.

Her father, sternly adamant and exacting as he was, would have been proud of her for that. He would have been outraged, however by the company she was currently keeping. It was rather startling to be here, eating breakfast with a youkai, a hanyou, and a girl who was the hanyou's mate as if it were the most normal thing in the world, as if she had done it a hundred times before.

And yet, hadn’t she? Although she had not truly been herself, Sango, as she now was, she had still been befriended by those three---and if Sango were truly honest, those three had come to mean more to her than just mere companionship. For some reason, she trusted them, as she had not ever believed she could trust again. What she had once been, what had once defined her whole existence, now only lay like dusty ashes in the bitter knowledge of her betrayal. Her whole world had shattered in one brief moment, when she had looked up into the face of what she had thought was her savior, rescuing her from the dark torment of Naraku’s prison, and had seen only the glittering edge of the sharp dagger meant for her death…

The pain still stung, and the food in her mouth, so welcome moments before, now made her nauseous. What she had already eaten lay heavy in her stomach, which was tight with bitter memories. She abruptly set the leafy plate aside, the brown depths of her eyes darkening with a troubled mixture of anger and pain, the sharp tang of reawakened reminiscence swirling across the chaos of her mind.

She felt a light touch on her shoulder, and Sango blinked up at the concern in Kouga’s light blue gaze. His hand firmed, the claws lightly caressing, offering her unspoken comfort. Sango flinched, as much from the claws as from the intensity of his gaze. His claws fell as if scorched, and she turned her head aside, her cheeks pale. Jerking to her feet, she pulled away from them.

“Sango?” She could hear Kagome getting up and a low, impatient growl from the hanyou. How typical of him; it made Sango want to cry with the familiar warmth in the thought. How would they feel once they knew the truth? How would they react to the knowledge that she was a taijiya---a demon slayer, a paid assassin. They would be appalled and sickened by the verity, but Sango could not lie to them. She owed them too much. But she hated to see the betrayed trust in their eyes…

“Sango-chan, what’s wrong?” Kagome would have touched her arm, but hesitated to after having watched Sango flinch from Kouga’s claws.

~Kagome.~ How would the innocently light-hearted girl take the veracity of her past? Sango hated to see the hurt in Kagome’s brown eyes---the thought was almost as bitter as the thought of the look of disgust in Kouga’s…

But better to meet a foe head on than to slink away, cowering in the shadows.

Sango’s head came up, and her chin firmed. It was the icy discipline of the trained assassin that came to aid her now, to lend her the strength to turn and face them all with the truth. Her slight figure straightened, and the chilling look in her eyes had Kagome stepping back as if struck.

There was a flicker in the cool gaze, a momentary crack, giving a glimpse of suppressed pain and repentance, before Sango’s expression hardened once more. It was enough, though, for Kagome to take heart. Compassionate, but knowing instinctively that Sango would not want her solace right now, Kagome retreated, blindly seeking her mate for some consolation of her own in the sturdy strength of his presence. Inuyasha’s arms pulled her close, though his amber eyes were on Sango, his look measuring.

Kouga got to his feet in a lithe movement, icy blue eyes never leaving Sango’s. A wolf whined uneasily in the sudden tension, but the ookami lord ignored it. Crossing his arms, he planted himself across from the girl. The ice in his blue eyes hardened, and he ordered, “Speak, taijiya.”

Sango stiffened, and a muffled curse sprang from the hanyou, whose amber eyes darkened as he pulled his mate closer with protective instinct. Kagome’s mouth had fallen open in shock, and she stared at Sango with sudden fear.

But for Sango, there was only Kouga, who seemed to dominate her vision, demanding answers. Her question was for him alone, her heart tightening in her chest even as she ignored the pain of it. “You remember?”

“Yes.” His eyes were hard and unflinching, his deep voice flat.

“And still you…” Sango flinched, her tight mask cracking once more to reveal a flash of wonder and pain in the dark eyes. But Kouga remained impassive, and Sango tightened her resolve once more. Using her training as a shield, she stiffened in unconscious pride. Facing the hard demand in the ookami’s eyes, she squared off like they were antagonists, though her voice was mild as if she spoke of nothing more than the weather. “You deserve the truth.”

“Yes.” Kouga stood firm. Sango faced him, though as she spoke her eyes grew remote as if consumed with the past and not with them. The words spilled forth, at first slow, with many pauses, as if she fought her own will to speak truths never uttered, but then her voice firmed, as if something had finally broken free. Kagome dared not interrupt the litany of revelation, though she wanted to rush forward and hug the lonely pain in her friend away as her dark past was unveiled. Inuyasha remained seated, though his eyes darkened with unreadable emotion, his gaze lingering on Kouga, who appeared unmoved as Sango’s voice rose and fell in an almost lilting cadence.

“I am called Sango Jennar, though my…true name…is just Sango. I was part of a specialized program…a genetics program, started by the Brotherhood of Iynisin, to breed stronger…warriors…into their…for their…deployment…their use. The Brotherhood is…a fraternity of warriors who seek…whose honor it is to…deal Death to those unworthy of Life.” Sango rattled that off as if the repetition of that ideal had been drilled into her mind with relentless persistence.

“Our…their…goal…their aim…is not ours to question.” Here her eyes darkened, as memory took hold. She remembered her own bright curiosity, for intelligence was bred into her along with the greater physical abilities the tong had sought to establish in her generation. A stupid assassin was soon a dead assassin. But her lively curiosity had tried the patience of her instructors more than once, and it had been her father who had come to deal with her intransigence. To this day, she remembered the pain of that punishment, her shock and surprise that her father, stern and unyielding and yet not a cold man, had been the one to ensure she never questioned why again. And she had not, now knowing what would happen if she so dared…

Her voice took on a strange quality, as if she spoke by rote. “We are merely weapons in their hand. Trained from birth, and bred from the best genetic material available, our honor is to follow their command. The honor of our clan is held in their hands, bound by their will.”

“By who’s will, Sango?” Kagome burst out, the questions in her mind burning away her caution. Inuyasha’s claws tightened on her thin shoulders.

“The Masters.” Sango replied, her voice almost mild, her attention not on them but on something far distant and long past. “The Brotherhood is powerful. We, the tong, are merely one weapon for their hand---one of many. We do not question. We only obey. It is our honor to follow their will, and if we should be sacrificed by their command, then it only for our own incompetence and fit punishment for our true unworthiness to live. The attainment of honor lies in doing your best to fulfill their wishes, that is all need concern you…”

Her breath hitched, as another memory surged, this one of the assassin’s knife turned on HER. She should have died under the Master’s command, and been grateful that his ire would allow her a quick end. Her shame was in having fought back, in having fought free and finding herself now so wholly alone, with out clan or company, brethren or honor. But then she had seen so much more of the world than the limited teachings of her childhood, and she now knew how truly wrong they had been. Her triumph at life, of escaping the assassin’s blade, had forever exiled her from their number…

She flinched away from that revelation, seeking the inane of her childhood to blot out the thorny pain of more recent events. “I was fourth generation, though I was the first of my father’s seed to survive the stage of fertilized inception and preliminary development. My father was chosen to pass on his genes because of his strength and ability; he was one of the best among our brethren.” Unconscious pride straightened her shoulders. “And I was worthy of his honor.”

“He named me Sango, for the coral has special meaning to us for it outlasts the oceans in which it is supposed to dwell. Or so he told me. It was a pet name, though it later became my own. I was merely known as 4-G, my operative label, or Gen-Four, to designate what generation I came from. There were no other children of my generation who survived to adulthood. Those too weak were…destroyed…and many did not survive the rigors of early training.”

“How horrible.” Kagome whispered, tears sprinkling her eyes at the thought.

Sango blinked, as if surprised by the notion. Perhaps it had been, but SHE had survived where others had not. She had been proud of that distinction, and had always strove to prove her father’s faith in her. She was the best, anything less would have been unacceptable.

“Gen-Four.” Inuyasha muttered under his breath. His brow quirked as he put it together. “Jennar?”

Sango nodded absently, her eyes on Kouga, who remained unmoved from his cross-armed stance.

“What about your mother?” Kagome asked. “Was she a…?”

Sango’s mouth quirked, though it could not be called a smile. “I do not have a mother.”

“What?” Kagome blinked.

“I was not born as you, Kagome-chan.” Sango seemed amused, though her body was still held in the almost unconscious aloofness of her discipline. “My father’s seed was introduced into a genetically modified egg. I do not know from whence the egg came; I was never told, and I had learned not to question.” She straightened, her eyes once again hidden in the past. “I was incubated in what my father called an ‘iron-womb’, or to be more politic, a gestation chamber. When I was old enough to live on my own, I was interred into the hatchery, where I spent the first three years of my physical growth.”

Sango did not elaborate. They did not need to know of those lonely years, when she had been too young to understand why she was kept prisoner in the small, ovoid chamber. Her recall of those years was almost phenomenal, even her father had been surprised at her recollection of them. Allowed no tactile contact---lest she be influenced by weakness, and thus succumb to the emotional need of other humans, more casually developed through natural birth and the proximity of parental influence---her training had begun from the first day she had breathed air on her own.

She remembered, with a pang, this morning’s waking, and how she had felt as if she were back in the safe haven of her hatchery. Her eyes flicked to Kouga’s, but his gaze remained coolly detached. For the first time, she turned away from him, and spoke to the empty air around her, her back to her audience. She hurried past her childhood with such short, sketchy detail that it spoke volumes to her listeners of the harsh reality of them. “I survived, and was taken from the hatchery into the training school. I was taught, among other things, to fight. To kill. To survive.

“Few did.”

Kagome’s eyes burned, and she moved closer to the warmth of her hanyou mate.

“Eventually, I was allowed to know who my father was, and we were even allowed continued contact, until I moved from the training grounds to his quarters. By that time, my brother, Kohaku Gen-Eight---who was also of my father’s seed, but of a different generation---had left the hatchery and been placed in the training compound. My training continued, though it was now done in the field, and I was sent with my father on many…missions.”

Sango’s head came up, her eyes closing. “I was proud of the fact that I was to be one of the Brotherhood of Iynisin. I passed the first Trial, and was admitted into the tong as a journeyman assassin.”

“Trial?” Kagome prompted.

Sango would not look at her. “My first solo mission. My first…kill. He was a…he was human, and one who deserved to die.” Her eyes darkened with stark remembrance. No matter how many targets were taken down, there was nothing as mordant as the first. Shrugging with irritation, Sango continued. “Many who do well in training cannot…pass…the Trial, and they can only expiate their shame by committing suicide. The target is often difficult, the way made unnecessarily hard. My own Trial was not without price, but I…succeeded.”

Kagome shivered. Sango’s voice was so flat and cold, as if she spoke of someone else and not herself. “How old were you?”

Sango blinked, recalled to their presence. She turned to face the girl, steeling herself for the revulsion that would be part of Kagome’s reaction. “Ten.”

“Ten?” It was Inuyasha who barked that out, staring at her in disbelief. And Kagome, surprisingly, did not look as repulsed as Sango had expected. Frightened, yes, but not reviled…

Sango shrugged slightly. Her age had not mattered. She had proven herself a warrior. Young, yes, she had been young, but she had reached a level of skill that few did at that age and the Brotherhood tested when they deemed necessary. Kohaku, she remembered with a pang, was only eleven when they had been sent on that final, fatal mission, and he had been barely out of the training school…

Her eyes clouded at the bitter memory. ~So much bitterness…~

She glanced away from them; unable to face them while she recited the last mission she had been given by the tong. “I was often sent with others, and on my last mission, I was sent with my father and my brother, by the Masters’ orders. Kohaku…Kohaku was only eleven. He had not passed his Trial, and was still an apprentice. This was to be his first field mission, and he was so proud of that…”

She felt something bump her thigh. Sango looked down in surprise, and yellow eyes stared steadily up into hers. The wolf, large for its kind, and silver---her backrest, she recalled---whined low in its throat. Sango’s fingers trembled slightly as she lightly touched the furry head.

“Sit.” Kouga commanded, though his deep voice was not as hard as before. His blue eyes were intense as ever, but not as chilling. Sango turned to look at him, to see him casually sliding to the ground; a couple of wolfs taking the opportunity to settle around him. Sango nodded absently, her hand tangling in the gray wolf’s fur, and followed suit. She felt more relaxed this way and less as if she were standing in front of a firing squad.

The gray wolf lay down next to her, and Sango’s fingers continued to comb through his fur as if for comfort and distraction. Closing her eyes, she let the memories surround her in all their stinging poignancy.

“Our aim was simple, the target the Lord himself. Naraku. We were not told why or how, just that it was our honor to be chosen for such prestige. My father was pleased that my brother and I were to be included with three others of our brethren. We had worked together in the past, and one of them, Jidayu, had been my instructor in the art of the katana, and he was a master of the blade.

“Our target spent his time on Seggeth Station, which circles Kumo, the kaze youkai homeworld, though he, Naraku, was of the oni clan. The oni rule five systems, including their own, and Naraku was the current Lord of the Oni Five.

“We knew nothing of him, only that he was youkai and that he was our target. We journeyed separately, so as not to arouse suspicion. The youkai are famed for their skill at spotting ill intent---some even say they can read the mind of ningen as easily as one would read the information on a data-pad. My father had told me this was not so, but that often youkai could scent out the emotions of a man, and discern their intent from them.”

Kouga and Inuyasha traded telling looks, but Sango went on, heedless of the exchange.

“I booked passage to Seggeth Station alone, and took work at a dance club there, one in which the dark lord was known to frequent. All had been arranged previously to our arrival…Jidayu came as an itinerant miner, two of the others as mere laborers. My father and Kohaku came as they were, father and son, as if on vacation. We did not interact with one another until the night we were ordered to take down the lord.

“It should have been simple. Although the nightclub was popular, and there would be interference from the lord’s bodyguards, still, there were six of us. All highly trained and possessed of great skill. Perhaps we were too confident, too trusting in our abilities and our allies. It was the plan for me to distract him, the lord, and for the others to move in once we were…alone.”

Kagome drew in her breath sharply at the matter-of-factness of Sango’s speech. She darted a glance at Kouga, wondering his reaction, but the ookami sat like a statue, his gaze fixed on Sango’s bowed head, his expression unreadable.

“The lord had…questionable…tastes, but he was not known to spurn a woman’s company. It was easy for me to introduce into his drink a chemical that I knew would immobilize him. Although such measures are distasteful to a taijiya, still they were necessary for a youkai lord of Naraku’s strength. But that is where I failed, for it was not Naraku who took the potion, but I.”

Sango’s eyes opened to reveal a wealth of pain and regret. The fire-lit world around her faded into the dark terror of that night, when her own stupid mistake had caused the death of her father, her brethren, and her honor. Having drunk the chemicals that should have been given to Naraku, she had succumbed to their influence and lay unmoving as her world had collapsed around her. The dark lord had known all along of the plot on his life, and had taken steps to ensure the attack was turned on its assailants.

Kohaku had been given a serum that made his slight will negligent, the dark lord was able to influence his mind, and when the assassins had gathered to strike at their quarry, they had been taken down, from the back, by one of their own. Kohaku’s scythe had dripped with their blood, and his vacant brown eyes had held nothing in them as he slaughtered his unbelieving brethren. Sango, unable to move due to the potion’s invidious effect, had watched in horror as first her father, than her teacher and her fellow assassins, had fallen under Kohaku’s swinging blade.

She had not been spared; desperation had lent her weak strength, and even as she struggled to fight the potion’s sluggish response and crawled to her knees on the blood-splattered floor, Kohaku had raised his scythe, the sharp edge glittering in the dimmed lights of the overhead lamps. Shadows blackened the congealing blood that dropped with a faint splatter on her back, as if to mark the weapon’s next target. And down it had come, inevitable, and Sango had screamed in surprise as much from the unexpected pain as she had from the unexpected source.

~Kohaku!~

“You know…something…of what happened. I cannot…” Sango closed her eyes again, her shoulders shaking imperceptibly. “It is enough that you know.”

Kagome would have spoken, but Inuyasha’s claws tightened on her arm in admonition. His eyes were on Kouga, who seemed as one hardened into stone.

“Tell them.” His voice was harsh, his eyes like ice.

Sango’s head whipped up, startled. The flash of pain in her eyes at the youkai’s command made Kagome want to run over and hug her, to tell her that it was okay, she did not need to tell them anything that would cause her such agony to remember. But Inuyasha’s grip firmed on his wife, and she stayed where she was.

The gray wolf at Sango’s side turned his head to softly lick her lax fingers, as if to offer his consolation. Sango drew strength from the gesture, and in the steel of Kouga’s icy gaze. Unconsciously, she straightened and her voice was flat as she spoke in spare words of those dark weeks of black torment.

“I survived, as did my brother. It would have been easier if we had both perished that night, as we should have. But Naraku was not done with us, and he took out on us his dark revenge. The oni lord was sadistic, and took sexual pleasure from pain. Mind-controlled, Kohaku was his slave, unable to protest whatever use the dark lord made of him…and I…I was too weak to stop it.”

A breath escaped her, and she closed her eyes, bowing her head. Her fingers were buried in the warm gray fur of her wolfly companion, almost white-knuckled with tension. “Kohaku was used…as was I.”

She would say no more, even if Kouga were to demand it. Some things were best not bared to the harsh light of day, and there was many things she could not, would not, remember. Naraku had taken vicious delight in her torment, and her weakness had been in not being able to free herself and her brother long enough to at least end their living torture with clean death. That had not been granted them.

She had prayed for salvation, and had known with growing despair that it would never come. She had prayed for death, and when that prayer had been answered, she had been too weak to accept it, her will to live had been too strong in the end...

The bitterness washed over her anew. “We were betrayed. The dark lord had known all along of the plot on his life. The Masters had used us as merely a tool to deflect the criticism in their ranks that they had too many dealings with the dark lord of the oni. Many among them were in the Taiyoukai’s debt, and his association was considered too…lucrative…to lose.

“We, Kohaku and I, were abandoned. The price paid for our failure, or so we thought. But we knew nothing of what had happened among our brethren, that we were considered expendable. I found out only later, when I…when a Brother came, to end our dark suffering, and rescue us from the youkai’s grasp.

“Or so I thought.”

Sango’s fingers tightened in the silver fur, and the wolf whined softly. Sango could not look at her friends; she was left alone in the dark astringency of absolute betrayal. “An assassin was sent, and ordered to ensure our silence. The price of failure has always been death. At first, I thought he was there to save me, though he had come too late to save poor Kohaku, who had died under Naraku’s…use…but I, weak as I was, rejoiced to see one of my brethren there. I thought…but it was not so. The assassin was there to ensure my silence, not my salvation. He tormented me with that fact, taking the time to tell me just how deeply we had been betrayed by our Masters, by the Brotherhood itself. I think he might have been as sadistic as the dark lord for he seemed to take delight in my…my shock.”

Sango shook herself free of the memory, and her gaze leveled on Kouga as she continued her tale. “He tried to kill me, but did not succeed. I had been trained too well it seemed, by the Brotherhood who now sought to slay me. I turned his own knife on him, and was able to use the tools he carried with him to make my escape.”

Kagome shuddered at the blandness in Sango’s soft voice.

“To Station Nine?” Inuyasha asked, amber eyes dark.

“Yes.” A bitter smile hovered across Sango’s mouth. “I was caught as a stowaway aboard a merchanteering vessel whose destinations included the inu lord’s territories. I was turned over to station authorities. I was imprisoned for weeks---the station’s gendarme must have guessed I was more than just a penniless stowaway. They tried to interrogate me, but my training had been too thorough for such pitiful ploys as what they tried to use.”

“Sango…” Kagome whispered in quiet horror. To be twice betrayed…how could the girl have withstood it? Kagome’s heart went out to her poor friend. Such pain and darkness…had Sango ever known true life? True love? True happiness? Simple trust and simple faith? Simple solace and simple security?

Sango shook her head slightly, as if to negate Kagome’s pity. “Eventually, they gave up. I was turned over to the Council of Nine as a vagrant and a ‘hostile element’. The Council decreed that I owed the station for their hospitality of the past few months, and as I had no funds with which to pay, they sentenced me to Identity Alteration, where I would work off my debt as a ‘contributing member of society’.”

Inuyasha growled. His eyes were slightly misted with crimson. “They dared…”

Sango sighed, inattentive to their reactions. “Later, I was sent here, to Yoro, and…you know the rest.”

“And Kagura?” Kouga asked. “What had she to do with you?”

For a moment, Sango looked confused. Then her eyes cleared as she recalled the elegant woman who had confronted her yesterday…had it been only yesterday? Time seemed distorted, and recollection was hazy at best. “Kagura? She was there, at the cabin. I thought it would be you, my lord, and Inuyasha, returning from Yoro. I did not recognize her then, though I knew of her and could recognize her now. I had seen her when I…I was on Seggeth. She called me by name, and held up…something…something that flashed.”

Sango’s brow furrowed. She could recall nothing from that moment to this morning, when she had awakened in the ookami lord’s arms.

“It’s Kouga.” The deep voice was harsh as he swept to his feet.

Sango blinked in at the sudden change in topic. “My lor…?”

“Kouga.” The youkai nearly snarled at her.

Sango flinched.

“Are you insane?” Kagome jumped out of her mate’s embrace to confront the ookami. Her anger flared all out of proportion, her overridden emotions seeking outlet. She wanted to hit something, anything, and wouldn’t mind starting on that officious wolf!

“Kagome.” Inuyasha growled.

“What?!” Kagome whirled on her mate, arms fisted on her hips with indignation.

“Sit, koi.” Inuyasha rarely used that tone of voice on her, and it made Kagome blink in surprise, taken aback by his order.

“Huh?”

Inuyasha grabbed his mate and pulled her will-she, nill-she, into his lap, where he growled at her abortive struggles as his arms tightened minutely. Kagome finally desisted, especially when one white-clawed hand came up to cover her mouth when she would have protested her misuse with a few vocal explosions. She settled for glaring instead, her gaze impartially divided between her mate and his ookami friend.

Kouga planted himself squarely in front of Sango. With a sharp wave of his hand, he ordered the gray wolf to leave. Sango felt the departure keenly, but she knew it would have come sooner or later. A Taiyoukai could never permit the presence of an admitted taijiya and lethal assassin in his claimed territories, let alone his own homeworld. The ookami lord might not hate her, but he must surely despise her for the revelations of her past. She knew, with a sinking heart, that he would ask her to leave this beautiful place where she had found such peace, and while it would wound her soul like nothing had since Kohaku’s death, she knew she must somehow carry on. If not for herself, than for her brother’s forgotten memory and for the vengeance that should be burning inside of her right now but which was strangely absent. Instead, she merely felt weary and sad. Her path, forever alone, had been mapped out for her before she was even born…

Kouga’s voice was hard, biting. “You know nothing of Kagura’s warning? Of the tong’s plans?”

Sango’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Very real confusion turned her brown eyes almost cinnamon. “What plans?”

“She speaks truth.” Inuyasha growled, his hand still covering his wife’s mouth. Kagome’s muffled indignation made him flash a toothy grin in her direction and kiss the top of her tousled black head.

“So her scent tells me.” Kouga growled back, the slight crimson color of his eyes fading into the intensity of blue seen only in autumnal skies. A clawed hand reached out and grabbed Sango’s small wrist. He pulled, and she was jerked to her feet so fast she stumbled and would have fallen if the ookami hadn’t absorbed her forward motion with his own solid weight.

Cheeks flaming at her clumsiness, Sango tried to step back, but Kouga now had hold of her shoulders. His grip tightened as she shied away, and his blue eyes stared into her widened gaze with the arrogance only a true youkai could summon.

“Your past means nothing to me. I now claim you as my woman.”

Sango staggered, falling against him in shock.

Blue eyes glinting his amusement, Kouga hauled her up the firm length of him and kissed her---hard.