"Sango?"

The long haired woman sat beside the monk as he rested on the breezy hilltop. She crossed her legs at the ankles and tucked the fabric around her knees closer. It was beginning to get cooler now that the season had turned.

"Monk—Miroku," she corrected herself without much thought.

The man beside her rested his staff across his bent knees and watched her with a mellow expression. Miroku nearly always seemed calm. She admired him for his discipline to at least that part of his monk's training. The slayer found that because he held that aura of tranquility about him, she herself had found more moments of solace than she ever used to. Especially after the death of her family. He seemed to rub off on her.

She sighed and held out a small stack of papers bound with a colorful shell of soft flowers and watercolor trees. For a moment, the monk simply looked at her surprised. It was one of Kagome's books she brought with her from time to time. Like a more convenient scroll. His dark eyes lifted from the book Sango held in her hand up to the woman's face. She held a steady gaze on his mouth, rather than his eyes. Miroku could see a faint flush across her cheeks.

"A book?"

She nodded, her bangs bobbing a bit at the motion. "It's mine."

"Yours."

Sighing, Sango dropped her hand with the book back into her lap and opened the front. "It's a journal, or diary as Kagome calls it."

Miroku raised his eyebrows, but didn't allow his tone to be moved beyond vague interest. "Oh? And why would you show me such a private thing, Sango?"

The blush on her face dipped into a shade of red before she closed the book quickly and again held it out to him. This time he took it, but didn't look in it just yet.

"Are you sure about this?"

Nodding, she brushed some hair back behind her left ear without glancing to the man she just entrusted her privacy with. "It used to be all about Kohaku—Kagome said they often gave people grieving journals in her time as a form of relief or therapy."

He touched the hard binding of the book. It was warm. "Did it help?"

She took a moment to consider, then nodded rather heavily. "It did, some. It does."

Miroku looked down to the feminine but mature designs on the cover. It looked like Sango to him, and he was sure it had reminded Kagome of the woman when she picked it out. It was a precious, precious object.

"Why, Sango?" He turned his gaze to her face, which was now looking up to him.

"I think…" She bit her bottom lip, then regained. "I wanted you to see what I am." She shook her head in frustration. "No, that's barely it at all. I wanted you to see how much I think about you."

The monk took this in, then placed the book neatly in his lap, and placed his hand softly on the back of Sango's. Both hands rested on her knee as they both watched. Neither of them could breathe properly, and Miroku had to force a cough to get the rhythm back to the pair.

"Do you want me to inform you when I have finished reading?"

"If you'd like."

He squeezed her hand gently. "Thank you, Sango. I treasure this."

She simply sat quietly as she gazed out over the village before them.

Shippo thought there had never been a more perfect day. The days we cooling, which was good for someone partly covered in fur, and he had Kagome back nearly every day again. She had been recovering in her own time much too long for his liking, but he knew that if she hadn't gone home, she may very well have died after the fight with the lizard. He also knew that she had recovered really fast for a human—probably from sharing blood with Inuyasha for a short term Sango figured. He leaned against the girl's hip and slowly closed his eyes at the familiar smell. Kagome was back.

Inuyasha would have shared the same sentiments as the young fox demon if either of them had been speaking aloud, but they weren't. Instead he also sat cross-legged on the other side of the human girl with his head tilted and resting on her shoulder.

Kagome sat closed-eyed and wrapped her arms around both demons beside her and found herself scratching both their heads. Inuyasha had a much more obvious reaction than Shippo as he arched into her finger nails, bumping his ear under her grasp. She smiled at this and rubbed his soft ear as he liked.

"What do you think they are talking about?"

The young man beside her shrugged and didn't look out toward the monk and slayer the way his girlfriend was. He simply closed his eyes and leaned into her more, petting her back with his hand closest to her. He felt her tug lightly at his ear in her hand, and he shivered. He hadn't told her yet, but it was sort of a turn on for him. He nearly purred at the touch.

He didn't dare touch her in that way at all yet. He was terrified he would harm her still fragile body. His nightmare of tearing her apart as she unbound him from the tree long ago had returned. It had new variations now; sometimes he wasn't the one tearing through her. Sometimes, it was the anole. Sometimes it was a child of theirs gone wild and violent in the womb. None were good and they left him fearful of embracing her in that way at all. He didn't know that he'd ever get over such a horror.

"I hope they find each other."

"Kagome?" Inuyasha opened his eyes and noted that Shippo had fallen asleep against Kagome.

She dipped her chin to meet his eyes. "Yeah?"

He wanted to be closer to her, he wanted to feel her against him at night, and eventually he wanted to mate with her and share a life.

"Kagome, I—"

She looked concerned at his tone. "What's wrong, Inuyasha?"

He swallowed. "I had a bad dream."

She wrapped her arm around him, pulling him in to kiss him on his forehead. "That's alright. Tell me about it. We'll get through it together."

He knew she was right. The dog demon closed his eyes and relaxed into her arm and began to tell her about his dreams.

The End.