Redemption

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, etc. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

REDEMPTION

Summary: Specters of the past bring forth questions for the future. Can she save his soul, or will he wander forever in darkness?

WORDS

nen’eki - mucus
haori - a short-tailed jacket worn with hakama (pants) and usually over a kimono
neko - cat (Kirara)
kitsune - fox (Shippo)

WARNING! DARK IMAGERY AND ADULT TOPICS, RUN-ON SENTENCES, LOTS OF POTTY MOUTH AND MAYBE SOME MORE WATER SPORTS O_O

A/N - So Bankotsu appears quite short in the anime, but then, so does Sango. One website put Bankotsu’s height at 5’4, Sango’s at 5’1 or 5’2 and Inuyasha’s at 5’9. On the anime, it appears Bankotsu and Inuyasha are much the same size, so I have decided to put both of them at 5’10 cuz 5’9 seems just that much shorter, lol, and I like a good eight inches between San and Ban. And as I just happen to be ‘Fate’, I can pull a thread here, tug a string there, and voila! Instant height adjustment! (Wish it were always that easy…)
Explanations and expostulations aside, I want to thank readers for their reviews, they give me the warm and fuzzies and feed my not inconsiderable ego. Wonder how I fit that big head through the front door? (Fate)

CHAPTER NINE

Waking up in the morning after sleeping all night on the cold, hard earth, a tree’s root for your pillow and a smelly, itchy horse-blanket for a thin mantle was not that great. Waking up to the bulging red eyes of a hungry nen’eki demon was definitely not fun. Staring up into the wide-gaping mouth of a double row of fanged teeth was distinctly uncomfortable. Being dribbled on by about ten gallons of snot and salivating drool out of said slobbering mouth was just downright DISGUSTING.

Sango watched in horrified fascination as a huge, warty, yellow-green tongue flicked from side to side inside that gaping mouth, as if deciding which part of her would prove the tastier. She had no intention of becoming that thing’s breakfast though, and with a shout she rolled out of the way, kicking her left foot out to distract the foul youkai as she staggered to her feet.

Her ankle, lightly bruised in the battle with the bear youkai days before, did not like being used as an impromptu club. Throbbing its message of discontent right up the nerves of her calf and leg, Sango ignored the pain in order to whirl around, looking for anything she might use as a weapon. Diving for the lumpish huddle of the packs, she felt the shadow of that giant, ugly demon loom over her, howling with anger that its breakfast was proving not so easy to catch.

Sango’s eyes widened as she saw the flash of Bankotsu’s giant halberd just in time to duck down on all fours as it flew over her head, though she need not have. The blade was aimed at the giant, mucus-dripping blob behind her, which it easily split in two, from neck to base.

“Damn it! I thought I got all of them!” The mercenary growled as he flicked mucus-ridden ichor from his giant blade and contemplated the shuddering, gluttonous mass of wavering flesh that still stood, though he had just split it diagonally in half.

Sango’s brain tried to tell her something, tried its best to remind her with enough time to get out of the way, but it all happened so fast she could only shout out, “Duck!”, before curling herself into as tight a little ball as she could.

“Huh?” Bankotsu frowned down at her, but it was already too late.

The demon exploded, and the confused mercenary’s whole body disappeared in a raining flood of warty flesh and mucus-covered ichor and slime. Sango felt the disgusting tidal wave of snot and slime splatter over her and convulsively shuddered, holding her breath for as long as she could as that seemingly unending rain of destroyed demon flesh splat on the earth around her, one nice squishy piece slapping against her slime-covered cheek in a final insult.

The horse, hobbled out of the way, nickered uneasily into the abrupt silence, and Sango finally felt safe enough to sit back up. Wiping the slime from her eyes as best she could with snot-covered hands, she blinked down at herself and grimaced. Her clothing, which had been pretty abused over the last few days, was now ruined. Something dripped down the side of her hair to land in the dirt beside her with a squishy splat. Shuddering with feminine disgust, she got shakily to her feet to go looking for Bankotsu.

The mercenary lay unmoving, knocked off his feet and flat on his back. He was draped from head to toe in a thick blanket of putrid, yellow-green slime. His giant sword, stretched out beside him, was just as battered and covered in rotting demon guts. Sango took one look at his rather stunned expression, and burst out laughing.

Bankotsu looked like he was ready to kill that demon all over again, or maybe he was just ready to kill HER for laughing down at him.

“I told you to duck!” She choked at the flash in his blue eyes, holding sides which hurt from laughing so hard. She tried to stagger toward him, in order to help him up, but she leaned too hard on her bad ankle, and went down with a muffled yelp of pain.

Bankotsu slowly sat up, his disgust at their current situation quite plain to see. Glaring at the innocent-looking half-mooned hilt still clutched in his hand, he growled at the imbedded shards, “This is NOT what I was expecting, damn you.”

Sango blinked at his strange words, but then forgot them as something cold, wet, and slimy dribbled past the collar of her yukata to make an oozy path down the curve of her spine.

Kami, was that ever a disgusting feeling!

*Ew.*

The horse stared at them, its nostrils widening as he took in the rotting stench that rose from their clothes and skin. Detecting no further youkai menace in the tickling breeze that now crept through the silent clearing, he bent his head back down to graze with a rather disdainful expression, his tail flicking in silent laughter at the two would-be demon slayers.

“Gah.” Bankotsu finally got to his feet, looking down at himself with a rather rueful expression. “This is just gross.”

Sango heartily agreed, trying to pluck the wet, snotty fabric of her yukata away from her skin. “I could definitely use a bath.”

“As could I.” Bankotsu grimaced as his snot-saddened bangs flopped green goo back into his eyes. But then his expression lightened, as if something had just dawned on him. With a smug smile, he turned to her. “What would you do, taijiya, if I could grant your wish?”

“Love you for a million years.” Sango muttered, borrowing one of Kagome’s favorite expressions without really thinking that much about it, distracted as she was by the slime that was trying to ooze itself further down her back. She squirmed, trying to get away from the squishy feeling, and didn’t really pay that much attention as Bankotsu’s teeth flashed in a grin.

“Heh. Then I shall grant your wish, taijiya.”

“What?” Sango blinked up at him, distrustful of the sudden gamine grin that lit his snotty face. “What are you…?”

But he ignored her half-hearted protests as he scooped her up into his strong arms, muffling her ire as he strode quickly across the clearing and back under the trees by smirking, “You want a bath or not?”

A bath! Oh, for all the love of heaven and earth, she would give her right arm, bruised as it was, to be clean right now…

And so she made no further protest as he lumbered through the forest, ignoring the slimy remains of other nen’eki he must have killed for the anticipation of being able to wash this nasty muck off of her skin. She could hear the growing sounds of splashing water, and plenty of it, and she was startled as they suddenly emerged from the closely-grown brush to find themselves beside a small waterfall, splashing down from the jutting rocks of the hill above to form a small, swirling pool below.

“It’ll be cold, but it’s clean.” Bankotsu gave meager warning before dropping her in with a hearty splash.

Sango yelped as the freezing water enveloped her from head to toe. Sputtering back up, she was ready with a furious comment, which died as she saw him climb right in after her.

“What are you…?” She managed to sputter between chattering teeth. Gods, but this water was COLD!

“Washing, what else?” Bankotsu shrugged out of his slime-encrusted armor, tossing it aside on the grassy bank. Quickly unknotting the tie of his simple obi, he stripped off his haori and got busy with the wrapped black cloth that hugged his lower legs and feet.

He finally got a good look at Sango’s expression, and paused.

“What?”

“You’re…” Sinking up to her chin in the lightly swirling water that didn’t seem quite so cold now that she had gotten used to it, she dropped her eyes and bit her lip, trying not to stare at the tanned, well-muscled chest revealed by the discarded haori.

Bankotsu looked down at himself. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Now that he seemed to understand her acute embarrassment, she expected him to leave. But, thick-headed lout that he was, he didn’t. Instead, he decided that his hakama were enough to preserve his modesty, and continued pulling the wrapped black fabric from off his feet and dropping them on the bank so that he could dive under the water’s surface with a rather casual disregard for Sango’s blushing indignation.

Scrubbing the slime from his skin, Bankotsu made quick work of unbraiding his hair, so that he could duck under the rather handy waterfall several times to wash it clean. Sango slunk away to the furthest corner of the small pool as Bankotsu stood up on the rocks just below the short falls, using the thundering spray to wash the last bits of demon-spewed ichor from his skin.

He stood there, relishing the thundering spray on his skin as it smoothed away tensed muscles, and dragged his hands through his long, black hair, freed from its usual braid, with a rather careless indifference for the picture he made of himself. Muscles rippled across his shoulders and chest, which narrowed into a flat vee before disappearing beneath the draping fabric of his damp hakama, which clung closely to his wet skin.

His WHITE hakama.

Which hid nothing of what it should.

Sango stared at him with wide brown eyes.

A blue eye peeked open, and a black brow twitched as his mouth quirked.

“You okay, taijiya?”

Sango’s mouth---which had been hanging open like a gutted fish’s---snapped shut, and she dropped her eyes as a furious blush climbed up her cheeks.

There was a wry chuckle as Bankotsu dove back into the pool beneath the falls, easily slicing through the water to emerge just in front of her. “How come you haven’t washed yourself off yet?”

Sango contemplated her fingernails, which suddenly seemed VERY intriguing.

“That’s right. You’re wounded.” Bankotsu said to himself, as if that explained her reticence.

“I’m fine.” Sango whispered low enough for him to pretend to ignore.

“No problem. I can help you.” Bankotsu gave her bowed head a cheeky grin, enjoying her discomfiture.

“No, that’s all ri…”

Scooping her up, he ignored her muffled protests as he dragged her back to the waterfall. Settling her on a convenient rock at the base, he pushed her head back so that the splashing water could stream through her tangled hair. Sango sputtered as water splayed over her head and shoulders in a pounding rhythm that soon had her sighing with utter contentment as it eased the tenseness from her shoulders and back.

She allowed herself a beautiful moment of utter relaxation as the water splashed away the nasty squish from her skin, and was surprised to feel a slight tug on her left hand as Bankotsu pulled the dirty bandages from her palm. The skin beneath was slightly tender, but the cold water felt good on the healed burns. Sango experimentally flexed her fingers, happy to note that there was no damage to the webbing between her fingers.

Nothing if not methodical, Bankotsu pulled the similar bandages from around her right wrist and left ankle, though Sango hissed a few times when he tried to turn them this way and that.

“Not as bad as I thought.” He grinned down at her, giving her captured foot a quick pat before letting go.

Sango blinked up at him as the falling water dragged her hair down her back and shoulders in heavy, sweeping tangles. She was suddenly conscious of just how absurd she must look, with her hair dragging into her eyes, and the sodden fabric of her dirty yukata dragging wetly against her skin. His eyes were such an intense blue as he stared down at her, his smile slowly fading as she stared back up at him. Her breath seemed suddenly to come short, and she could feel her skin prickle with awareness, and not from the chilled caress of the water that poured and splashed around her. She could feel her nipples harden, and a slow blush dawned across her cheeks as she realized that her yukata, while a mix of rose and cream and splotched here and there with the dirty remains of the nen’eki youkai’s slime, must still be as revealing as Bankotsu’s white hakama to his darkened gaze.

Inky black tangles whorled across his forehead, partly obscuring the cross tattooed thereon. His eyes searched hers for a long, breathless moment as he leaned close, the warmth of his breath tingling across her senses and making her breath catch, wondering what he would do as a strong hand came up to lightly cup her cheek.

Was he about to…to KISS her?

Her eyes widened at the thought, and she didn’t know what she would have done if he had. But he blinked, as if coming back to himself, and stood back up, withdrawing the warm touch of his palm from her cheek to scratch the back of his neck while giving her a somewhat rueful glance. “Ah, well, then. I guess I should go and fetch you some clean clothes, eh? And maybe a comb? That‘d be nice, eh?”

He continued to back-pedal, in both words and feet, until he had finally managed to haul himself out of the pool. Turning with almost unnatural speed, he was gone, and Sango could only sit and stare after him, wondering suddenly if what had almost happened actually HAD almost happened.

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The tiny cream-colored neko curled into herself, deeply asleep. The air around her seemed to shimmer with poignant emotion, a hovering sadness that was slowly fading as the youkai’s dreaming mind was caught in the gentle blue caress of a comforting spirit.

:Find comfort, little stalwart.: A mutli-toned voice, the harmonies of one who knew well of this world and the next, seemed to blend and meld into a golden thread of love and communion, reassurance and affection. :Your Sango lies safe. Trust me in this, little neko.:

Kirara sighed softly to herself, her tiny paws twitching as if she would bound forth to that guardian spirit’s comforting embrace. Though her physical body did not move, her dreaming self was touched by softly glowing hands that pet and stroked the sad youkai’s worries away as all-too-knowing, star-touched black eyes stared deep into the red glow of the fire-cat’s worshipful gaze.

Midoriko laid a gentle hand on the neko’s head, in comfort and benediction, and whispered again in that gods-blessed voice of golden warmth, enfolding and embracing the lonely wanderer, :Worry not, little one. You will remain separated for a time, but know that she is with me. Your questing friends will not know this, you must comfort them as you may, but there is more at stake here than just their fears. Trust me in this, little Kirara, and guard against the day when I shall summon you, as your mother and your mother’s mother have for all of these long years…:

The tensed shoulders of the sleeping neko relaxed imperceptibly, and thus reassured, she fell into deeper dreams, the soft blue glow of the warrior-priestess’s presence soothing her fears gently away in the soft caress of night’s end.

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His wet clothing took up four whole bushes. Bankotsu stepped back and studied his draped handiwork with a cocked brow of appraisal. Not bad…though his white haori and hakama looked more like drying bed-sheets than good silk. He was just lucky he had had the foresight to have two more sets of white clothing made. He wore the more tattered of the two, and a ragged tear that had been mended rather ineptly by his own hand marred the finer fabric across one sleeve where someone had once thought to chop off his right arm at the shoulder. Ha---that damn fool had just got in a lucky slice, it had been easy enough to dispatch the so-called warrior who had turned his second best uniform into his third…

Speaking of his second-best, he grinned as he saw the taijiya emerge hesitantly from the forest, stepping gingerly in what must be rather large garments for her smaller frame. She had not been able to tuck the long kimono into the proffered pants, and the haori came clear down to her knees, or where her knees would have been could you even see them through the wide balloon of his over-large hakama on her shorter frame.

She had managed to use his spare obi to tie the kimono and pants up as close to her trim waist as she could, and had used the black strips of cloth he used for footwear to merely bind up the hakama just above her ankles, so that she wouldn’t trip as she walked. He’d have to do something about footwear for her, she couldn’t be walking around in bare feet for too much longer. It would be nice to get her some decent clothes. This outfit was even more ridiculous than her yukata and peasant-pants.

He wished suddenly that Jakotsu were around. Jakotsu certainly knew more about women’s clothing and fashions than he would ever have a call for. Damn. Funny how the pang of missing his former friend could hit him at the strangest times…

So he distracted himself by smirking at her while inspecting her rather absurd outfit from head to toe. She gave him a disgruntled look, and ran a hand through her unbound hair, which hung sleek and untangled down her back, slowly drying in the light breeze that playfully circled through the small clearing.

“It’ll take some time for our clothes to dry. You want something to eat?” He asked after the practical. She nodded, absently scanning the glade for a clear bush in which to spread out her own damp clothing. She had managed to scrub most of the demon guts off of the rather sturdy pants but her yukata looked pretty beat up. She’d done pretty good with no soap, though.

They had plenty of time, so Bankotsu took a moment to gather more wood and rekindle their campfire. Tossing a handful of this and that into the small pot he had thriftily filched from the farming stead days before, he was able to present her with a more varied meal than before, with the addition of stewed apricots for desert. Having spread her clothing to dry from tree and bush, she accepted her portion with quiet thanks and they ate in companionable silence.

He took the time to study her, and thought that she was utterly beautiful, even looking like a child mocking its elders by getting dressed up like the festival fool in clothing far too big for her. The sun sweetened the clearing, touching brown tints in her raven tresses and adding a certain light to her deep brown eyes. He was trying to decide just what color of wood her eyes were…deep mahogany? Damp oak?…when she looked up at him, making him feel a little guilty for catching him staring at her so stupidly.

“Are you finished? I can wash your bowl…” She offered somewhat shyly as she stood up.

“Eh, yeah.” He handed them over. She was as good as her word, taking the pot as well. She was rather quick about it, too, and he cocked a grin at her as she returned, cleaned utensils in her hands. “I don’t mind cooking if you do the washing. I hate washing.”

“You’re rather good at it. Cooking, I mean.” She offered, seemingly ill at ease. “It’s not something I would expect of a…well…”

“‘A cold-blooded killer?’” He teased her, smirking as a faint blush stained her cheeks and she looked down at the various crap held in her arms. He rather liked making her blush. She was pretty easy to tease. Standing up, he sauntered over to relieve her of her burdens and pack them away. Looking down at her, he smiled. “I’m more than just a mercenary, Sango.”

“Yeah.” She said, looking back up at him, and just as quickly dropping her eyes back down to her feet. He grinned, thinking she smelled much better now that she didn’t reek of horse sweat and demon snot.

And for just a moment, he thought how great it would be just to lean over and kiss her lightly on those soft lips, just as he had almost done back there at the waterfall, and the very memory of her there, with the water falling over her neck and shoulders, plastering her yukata to her skin so that nothing was left to fancy, and the captured water droplets that lingered on thick, curling black lashes and sparkled like rare diamonds in the golden sunlight, was enough to tighten his groin with more than desire and need, and by all the Boils on the monkey-god’s bare pink ass, he wanted to, more than he could ever remember ever wanting it ever as much, but holy fart, he did not just want to maul her over and frighten her with the fierce desires that lent fire to the growing need in his loins, and so he did what any sane man would---he stepped back, gulping down much-needed air, and went to go put those damn dishes in that damn pack, hoping to high stinking heaven she didn’t notice that part of him that was so embarrassingly now evident.

He respected her too much for that. But DAMN he could use that ice-cold waterfall right now…

Thinking of that freezing ass water was almost as good, and when he had finally got hold of himself and turned back around, he found her plucking at the damp fabric of her yukata, as if by pretending to be doing something useful she could pretend that she wasn’t as discomfited as she pretended not to be. She avoided looking at him, and he didn’t like it. So he offered her something he knew would get her attention.

“I have a piece of ribbon, if you want to use it to tie your hair up.”

It was pretty stupid, when he thought about it, but it worked.

“Really?” Her look of astonished gratitude made him feel dog-guilty that he hadn‘t offered it to her before, and so he rummaged through his packs for anything else he might find to give her. There wasn’t much there, though, and so he flopped down on the grass beside the packs with a rather childishly looking pout of disgruntled disappointment.

She had pulled the simple wooden comb he had given her from out of her sleeve and proceeded to rearrange the long length of her tresses into a high ponytail at the top of her head, so that the ends would remain free to dry in the warmth of the sun. He watched the slow movements of the comb as she patiently brushed it through her long black hair like one mesmerized, and, swallowing, abruptly dropped down on his back in the grass with his arms crossed over his face, squinting up at the sun so that he could somehow blind himself from that rather pretty sight.

Seeking anything to distract him from his lecherous thoughts, he asked into thin air, “So you know what the nen’eki are. I’ve rarely seen ’em. They’re kinda stupid and cowardly, like the buta, aren’t they? Wonder what brought them out. There was a whole pack of the nasty things that I chased into the forest before that one attacked you.”

“They might have been attracted by the Jewel shards you carry.” She said rather mildly, considering the subject. He cracked a blue eye in her direction, but she seemed oddly unaffected by the topic, as if her mind slid by it and did not linger. “I’ve only fought them once, myself. They’re pretty nasty.”

Huh. Funny how she didn’t even pause before changing the subject. He wondered what was causing that, but he had done enough thinking last night to make him shudder at the idea of digging up even more shit to mull over, and so he took it as it was with a mental shrug.

“Never saw anything explode like that.” Bankotsu made a face at the memory.

There were some experiences better left NEVER to be known.

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The small neko lay curled into a tight ball on the edge of the maroon-colored sleeping bag in the arms of a dejected-looking kitsune cub. Light had already pierced the cloud-covered horizon, but Kagome did not have the heart yet to awaken them to face another day of fruitless searching.

“Still can’t sense ’em, koi?” Strong arms wrapped themselves around her lithe waist as Inuyasha nuzzled her neck with a show of affection he rarely demonstrated where others might see.

Kagome shook her head, her brown eyes sad. She was sure she had felt the unmistakable presence of several Jewel shards late yesterday afternoon, and the desperate group had hurried to follow the dusty track her sketchy feeling had led them down. There were signs of a temporary camp made just off the road some ways back, but they had finally dead-ended at a strange, abrupt turning of the road to the left, where it emerged from the darker woods into low-hilled valleys, with some small signs of civilization beyond.

There was something about the abrupt turning of the road that made Kagome’s neck itch. She could have sworn that there might have once been a path that had forked off to the right, where huge clumps of tangling thorn-brush now banished. But the thick leafy trees and brush that blocked that whole side of the dirt road would have taken years to grow, and there was no way Bankotsu could have fought through that mess, not with a girl and a horse in tow.

For Inuyasha could tell that much from their fading scent, that Sango was alive, and that she was probably tied down over the backside of horse like any sack of grain. Kagome was worried deeply about her friend. What would have made----

She shuddered, feeling that sudden, sharp tug on the harp-strings of her soul, as if she were a mere instrument and the shards of the Shikon no Tama the lyricist who would pluck the notes forth.

“Inuyasha…”

“What is it, Kagome?” Miroku’s head rose from where he had drowsed against the trunk of a solid tree, staff cradled in his folded arms. His blue eyes scanned hers, his expression unreadable.intent and watchful

“Jewel shards.” Kagome murmured, turning in Inuyasha’s embrace to follow the diminishing direction. “And there are a LOT of them.”

The hanyou’s claws curled around the worn hilt of his father’s fang, his amber eyes lit within. “Where, Kagome? Where are they headed?”

“To the left…down that road.” Kagome said as one entranced. “Though they lead deeper into the forest, and not toward those valleys.”

“Left.” Inuyasha nodded sharply at Miroku to awaken Kirara and Shippo. There was a muffled protest from the kitsune cub, who stretched little paws up to the lightening heavens above as the dawn cracked open the face the of sky. With a wriggle of his copper-hued tail, Shippo blinked open his wide, green eyes and jumped to his feet as Kirara’s small form was swathed in flames, transforming herself into the larger, saber-toothed feline who would be better able to carry them all, chasing after that ethereally spectral draw.

Kagome quickly scrambled up onto Inuyasha’a back as Miroku mounted Kirara, abandoning their camp with little thought as the hanyou’s amber eyes glinted into gold, touched by the first rays of the rising sun into molten metal, hard and unbending.

“Gotcha.” He growled, meaning the mercenary, and leapt high into the air.

Tightening her arms around his wide, red-clad shoulders, Kagome could only hope.

*Sango-chan, please be all right!*

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Sango was NOT all right.

In fact, she didn’t know quite what to do. Plucking at the still-damp fabric of her tree-spread yukata, she wrinkled her brow in thought. How could she broach the subject that kept nagging at her mind? Glancing sideways under lowered lashes, she watched as Bankotsu, bent double over his giant halberd with polishing cloth in hand, sat back and raked the sweaty tangles of his black bangs off of his forehead with his free hand before bending back down to his task.

“Wanting something, taijiya?” He carelessly asked, his attention seemingly all on his work.

“What?” Sango blinked, turning her head to look at him, a blush staining her cheeks. The mercenary had taken his white haori off so that he wouldn’t dirty his last clean shirt, or so he had explained while giving her a smirking smile. His tanned skin glistened with the slight sweat of his vigorous exertions on behalf of his beloved sword, and Sango bit her lip as she watched the play of muscles across his wide shoulders.

Sitting back on his heels with a sigh, Bankotsu turned his blue eyes to stare back at her, a black brow quirking up in amusement. “Well?”

“What?” Sango’s fingers worried her yukata, wrinkling the damp fabric with studied indifference.

“Heh.” Bankotsu’s knowing grin just made Sango seethe.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned fully so that she could glare at him. “What?”

Bankotsu shrugged. “You were the one wanting to ask something, not me.”

“How could you know that?” His second, even more casual shrug made her want to hit something---namely, him---and scream out her frustration over how easily it was he could get under her skin. She wasn’t that stupid, however, so she just settled for whirling around and stalking toward the horse for lack of anything else to do, just so she could get that little bit away from him and just how much it was that he unsettled her.

He was quickly on his feet and Sango nearly did shriek as she felt a calloused palm circle her elbow to tug her back around to face him. He stood over her, looming so close that she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. She felt her breath catch as he grinned down at her widened brown eyes.

“Well, taijiya? What is it you keep running from?”

*You.*

Sango blushed at the traitorous thought. So she just blurted out the last question she wanted to ask. “Why did you kill them?”

“Huh?” He actually blinked in surprise, his hand falling from her elbow to stare down at her with a frown. “Who?”

Sango felt the heat on her flushed skin, but she really had to know. “Those peasants at the abandoned farm. Why did you kill them?”

It was a question that had burned in her heart, and perhaps it was only a front for asking why he had killed so many innocent people he didn’t really need to.

“What?”

It was the last reaction she had expected, but the startled disgruntlement on his face made her heart flutter in her chest for reasons too complicated for her to want to consider. Still, she had to know.

“Why them? What did they do?” She recklessly pressed.

“I didn’t kill them.” He denied flatly, his blue eyes opaque.

“You didn’t?” Sango pursued.

“No.”

“Then who…?” She asked, rather breathlessly.

His eyes were dark. “They were all dead when I found them. Convenient, that.”

*Convenient?*

“What?”

They were like parrots with only one word to cack repetitively between them.

“The place was empty, except for those two bandits who had killed the peasants off before we got there. Those two weren’t that hard for me to kill.”

“Who? The bandits?”

He gave her a disgusted look, crossing his arms over his chest. “They were really rather pathetic, actually. Not much of a fight. Probably why they went around slaughtering peasants who wouldn’t be able to put up too much of a defense.”

Sango surprised them both by reaching up to lightly kiss him on the cheek, standing on tiptoe with her hands lightly clasping his wide shoulders so she wouldn’t overbalance and fall on him as she did so. Whispering softly, her brown eyes almost honey-warm, she said, “Thank you.”

Before he could take advantage of her rather close proximity, Sango stepped back with a blush and hurried away like one arrow-struck. Bankotsu stood, a slowly dawning grin creeping up to surprise him with its giddy delight.

“Huh.”

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Nibbling on the tender young shoots that grew just under the sheltering, wide-swept branches of the giant tree, the rabbit felt something that made him freeze instinctively. Nose twitching, he abandoned his tasty feast to stare around the forest with wide brown eyes. Long, velvet-soft ears swept up, swiveling in all directions for any signs of danger.

A faint rustle in the thick brush behind him made him tremble. The scuff of a sandal on the leaf-ridden ground had him leaping for the nearest chance at safety, too wise in the ways of the hunted to stay still for what might mean his end, and their next meal.

The small child who emerged from the brush stared after the vanishing rabbit with poignant silence. Her black eyes might have been sad, had they been able to show any such emotion. A flicker in the small, cracked bauble held in one white hand turned her attention away from the vanished rabbit and back to the glinting fuchsia swirls held within the half-sphere of seething power.

“They follow.” She said aloud, thoughtfully, as if to herself.

The fuschian light in the cracked crystal seemed to brighten and swirl in answer.

Raising her empty eyes back up to the still forest around her, the white child of the Void walked slowly past the giant tree, her steps measured and sure, as if her path had been laid on her by another’s will and not her own. The soft tread of her sandals was soon lost in the distance, until a small nose, twitching furiously, ventured forth from out of the brush. A cautious paw touched the ground, another step, and the rabbit turned its head to look after the small, lonely child who had vanished among the distant, shadow-ridden trees…