By CinnamonGrrl
Kaede’s
single eye was sharp as she watched the injured hanyou stagger toward her. One
of the village children had fetched her moments ago, stating that Inuyasha was
approaching, hurt and with an unconscious woman in his arms. For a moment, she
had felt keen anxiety that Kagome had been harmed, but the figure in his arms
was clearly not the reincarnation of her sister.
No, it was
the demon exterminator he held with such determination, though he looked near
to dropping from blood loss and exhaustion. She felt a moment’s pride on
Inuyasha’s behalf, that he would exert himself to such an extent for a friend,
and then he looked up from Sango’s battered and dirty face to meet Kaede’s
gaze.
Though it
had not been long since last she had seen their group, no, Sango was no longer
just a friend to Inuyasha. The worry and upset stamped on his features spoke of
a relationship that went beyond mere friendship. He was not just concerned, he
was afraid. Afraid to lose her.
“Old
woman,” he rasped, and fell to his knees just steps from the entrance to
Kaede’s hut. “Help her. Please.”
Several
villagers hurried forward to take the girl’s limp form from him, carrying her
inside while he slumped back on his heels, hands pressed hard on his thighs as
he struggled to contain himself.
“Ye should
come in too, Inuyasha,” Kaede said before going inside to tend Sango. “Ye are
injured as well.”
He lurched
to his feet and followed her in. “You can poke at me after you’re done with
her,” he growled.
Kaede
worked diligently to repair the damage done to the taijiya; she had a
concussion, a broken rib, and badly twisted ankle and wrist. Inuyasha
steadfastly refused to answer any questions, and only when Kaede had convinced
him that Sango no longer needed her services would he allow her to treat him.
Once his ribs, gashes, bruises, and punctures had been dressed, he fell into a
deep, exhausted sleep.
When
Kagome, Miroku, Shippo and Kirara arrived, they were breathless from
running—they had hurried back as quickly as possible. Kirara’s injuries were
minor but had prevented them from riding her, so their journey had taken almost
an entire day. Sango and Inuyasha were both still asleep, but the newcomers
were more than pleased to describe the events of the previous day to Kaede.
When she learned that Inuyasha had carried Sango so far, so quickly—and with
his injuries—she was amazed at this further mark of his devotion to the demon
slayer.
“Kagome,”
Kaede ventured once Miroku and Shippo had left the hut, and Kirara was curled
protectively against Sango’s unconscious form on the futon across the room, “I
am confused.” Her voice was low but puzzled. “I thought that Inuyasha was fated
to love the soul you share with Kikyo. How is it possible, then, for him to
love another?”
“Maybe…”
Kagome whispered, fingers plucking at the hem of her uniform skirt, “maybe
Inuyasha isn’t meant to be with my and Kikyo’s soul, after all.”
Kaede
frowned. “What do ye mean, child?”
“Well,
think about it,” Kagome said, her frank personality asserting itself. “Inuyasha
and I are always arguing. And it was awfully easy for Kikyo to believe the
worst of him, both before her death and after. Maybe he’s meant to interact
with us, to get involved with us, but for a love that will actually last, or
make him happy…” She paused, her gaze traveling to Sango’s unconscious face.
“Maybe his fate lies with Sango.”
The aged
miko smiled faintly. Truly, this girl was growing quickly in wisdom and
maturity. “Perhaps,” she agreed at last, then heaved herself to her feet. “Let
us find Miroku and Shippo and be sure they are not causing mischief in our
absence.”
Once they
were gone, Inuyasha opened his eyes. He’d been awake since the others had
returned to the village, had heard everything they’d said. There was an ache in
his chest, right in the middle, at Kagome’s words. Not fated to be with her or Kikyo?
He felt oddly free at the idea. Kikyo had caused him such pain for so long, and
Kagome… she was just so damned annoying most of the time. And yet, there had
always been that compulsion to care for them. Both of them.
But
perhaps it did not have to be… perhaps the eyes he stared down into could be
those of someone else; perhaps the lips he kissed could belong to another.
Someone who didn’t want to change him, as Kikyo had; someone who saw him as he
was, instead of Kagome’s romanticized version of him.
Someone
like Sango.
No, not
someone like her. Her. He remembered her face in the moonlight
when she’d told him he was beautiful; her face in the sunlight when she’d said
he could do anything at all, except leave her. A wave of longing and affection
and respect flowed through him, all at once, and before he knew it, he’d thrown
back the blanket over him and begun to crawl across the plank floor of the hut
toward her still figure in the corner.
“Sango,”
he whispered once he sat at her side, and carefully cupped her cheek. Even with
her face banged up, she was beautiful. She’d gotten those marks fighting with
him, fighting for him. To save him. Glancing nervously over his
shoulder to make sure he wasn’t seen, Inuyasha leant down and brushed a kiss
over her mouth. He hadn’t expected her to respond, however, and jolted back
with a surprised yelp when her lips moved against his.
“Inuyasha,”
Sango murmured, a smile flitting across her face as she turned her head and saw
him sprawled back, eyes wide as he stared at her in apprehension. “Are we all
still alive?”
Quickly,
he composed himself. “Of course,” he replied, coming back to sit close to her.
“How… how are you?” he asked, then winced at the lameness of the question.
She didn’t
seem to mind, however, and pushed down the blanket to reach for his hand.
“Better than before.” Her eyes were huge, and glowed with some emotion Inuyasha
didn’t dare put a name to. “How are you?”
“Just
about healed,” he replied, unable to look at her for long, not with the way he
felt inexplicably like crying, a lump rising to his throat. “I’ll be back to
normal by tonight.”
Sango
seemed to sense his oddness of mood, and released his hand. “I’m glad,” she
said faintly.
Suddenly,
Inuyasha was furious. “You moron,” he barked. “What were you thinking in that
soft melon of yours? You could have gotten killed with a stunt like that.” He
looked back at her, almost relieved to see the softness leave her gaze,
replaced by an angry glint.
“I don’t
fear death,” she snapped. Then she blinked. “At least, not my own,” she
continued quietly.
His anger
faded as quickly as it had come. He knew what she was saying. “I’m not worth
it,” he said, his voice low. “You’re worth ten of me. I don’t want you to do
anything like that again.”
Sango
struggled to prop herself on her elbows. “Don’t,” she fumed, gasping with the
effort. “Don’t you dare say that. You say that again and I’ll… I’ll throw
Hiraikotsu at you.”
Inuyasha
snorted in derision. “I’m not allowed to say mean things about myself, and
you’ll beat the hell out of me until I stop? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m
saying I love you, Inuyasha” she said tiredly, flopping back on the futon and
shutting her eyes. She was weary of beating around the bush, and there was
really no point in keeping it a secret any longer. Not that it still was a
secret, really… “I love you, and I
don’t let anyone say bad things about people I love. Even the people
themselves.”
“Sango,”
he breathed, but fell silent. He was quiet so long that at last she cracked her
eyelids, peering at him through her lashes.
“What is
it, Inuyasha?” she prompted gently, and reached for his hand again. This time,
she only held her own out, waiting for him to meet her halfway.
“I— um—“
His mouth seemed unable to form words any more, but he managed to put his hand
in hers. “I do, too,” he blurted out finally, his face most distressed, and he
hung his head while his ears drooped.
“You love
you, too?” she prompted, a little smile on her lips.
He glared.
“No, stupid,” he retorted. “I love you.” Then he looked shocked to
realize he’d been able to say it. Amazement spread over his face like the dawn,
lighting his eyes like drops of gold. “I do,” he said in wonder. “I love you.”
Sango
pushed once more to her elbows; immediately, he was there to help her, one
strong arms coming to support her back while the other hand cupped her head,
tucking it snugly into the curve of his neck.
“You’re
not going to sacrifice yourself for me again,” he muttered against her temple.
“You don’t know how awful I felt, carrying you back here, knowing you’d done it
for me.”
“Oh, shut
up,” she murmured against his throat. “You’re not allowed to tell me how to
save you. I will if I want to.”
He moved
her back so he could see her face. “I thought the only thing I wasn’t allowed
to do was leave you,” he said flatly, but there was a gleam in his eye… he enjoyed
sparring with her like this, as opposed to the immense frustration that was the
only result of his bickering with Kagome.
“Ok, so
there’s two things,” Sango said comfortably, and grinned at him. “You can’t
leave me, and you can’t tell me I can’t save you.”
Inuyasha
listed a brow and smirked at her. “Anything else? Any other ground rules you
want to set down before this goes any further?” He frowned, then. “And that is this,
anyway?” He blushed a little. “I’ve never had…”
“A
healthy, equitable relationship where both parties respect each other?” she finished
for him, smiling openly when he looked away, embarrassed.
He nodded,
still staring out the door of the hut. “Are you sure you want to start
something, Sango?” he asked quietly. “I’m hanyou, shunned by both humans and
youkai. Our life together… it wouldn’t be easy.”
She
snorted. “Our life together isn’t easy now,” she said dryly. “I expect
we’ll continue to hunt shards and fight Naraku like we have been… the
difference will be that we’ll be…” Sango trailed off, uncertain how to put it.
“We’ll be
mates,” he declared, then blushed a little harder. “I mean, if you want to be…”
At her nod, a slow, tentative smile appeared on his lips. “But, Sango, don’t
you want a home eventually? A—a family?” His face was positively purple now.
“One day,
when it’s all over, I’ll want a home,” she said, reaching up to comb her
fingers through his silver bangs. “And the family can come eventually… I hope
they’ll all have your ears…” She tugged gently on one, enjoying the feel of its
velvet fur.
“You
really don’t mind?” he asked, his voice hushed, like he was both eager for and
dreading her response. “That our children will be part-demon?”
He had
been so terribly, terribly damaged by the bigotry of the world, she thought
sadly. “No,” she told him, and meant it. “We’ll teach them to be good people,
and if others can’t see past the hanyou to the wonderful heart beneath, they
can lump it.”
Inuyasha
embraced her then. “I love you,” he whispered passionately. “You’re mine. Never
leave me.”
Sango pushed back the swath of his hair to look past him to their friends standing in the doorway. “I won’t,” she promised, sighing in relief when Kagome and then Miroku (prompted by Kagome’s pointy little elbow jamming into his side) smiled at her. “I’ll never leave you.”