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Small Moments

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"Please, Miroku," Kagome begged, her eyes as big and wide as they would go. "Will you at least take a look at her?"

He knew immediately who Kagome meant by "her", and could not quite hide his surprise at the request. She was talking about the slayer. He hadn't thought they would willingly let him within a foot of this new girl, considering she was completely incapacitated and they didn't seem to trust him one bit. And yet here was Kagome, asking for his help.

It didn't hurt her case that she was looking a little the worse for wear, and as if she might be sick at any moment. He had known the slayer girl was grievously injured, but had no real idea what to expect. Kagome had taken it upon herself to act as the group's healer and mender-of-wounds, but obviously something about the slayer's injuries had deeply upset her. It would do no good to approach Inuyasha about the issue, and thus, out of necessity, she had come to him.


With a weary sigh, he resigned himself to the inevitable. "I will see what I can do."

"Oh, thank you, Miroku!" Quietly, more sullenly, she added, "I'd never forgive myself if she died!"

As he pushed himself to his feet, Miroku wondered when she had become so attached to a girl that until quite recently had been trying to kill their companion. At the same time, he knew he could not in good conscience simply leave her to die.

When he stepped into the hut, or what remained of it, he did not know what to expect. Obviously something had turned Kagome's stomach, or she would never have allowed him to treat a woman without supervision.

He knelt beside the woman; Sango, he thought her name was. She lay so still that for a moment he thought she might already be dead. Only a closer look revealed the slow, shallow movements of her breathing.

Kagome had already removed the slayer's uniform, but had abandoned her post as the group's healer shortly thereafter. She'd covered the other girl with a blanket and fled, leaving even her first-aid kit behind in her flight from the hut.

As soon as he pulled the blanket back, he saw what had her so upset. His breath caught in his throat and stuck there uncomfortably.

This girl's wounds were massive. There was blood everywhere. He had no idea how she had made it as far as she did, much less taken Inuyasha on in battle, in her condition. Were it him, he would have stayed abed a month or more before he would consider himself healed enough to attempt to walk at all, much less fight.

She was covered in old scars; perhaps covered was the wrong word. There were a few here on her arm, a few scattered there across her shoulder. In fact, she was remarkably un-scarred for one in her line of work, save for the wounds in her back. It appeared that she had been shot, several times, with arrows, and recently, too. But the largest wound, in the center, was a mystery. No mere cut, this, but a deep puncture wound. Something large and bladed had caused it, but he had no idea what.

He knew enough to know that she had been in Naraku's clutches before falling in with their little group… and that bastard had to have something to do with these wounds. He just had not realized that Naraku would resort to physical torture rather than his more typical methods of prolonged emotional torment.

He realized he was staring at his own hand, bound against Naraku's curse, and forced himself to look away.

He supposed that in the end it did not matter what had caused this, only that he patched it up as best he could in the hopes that she might live. But as he carefully selected supplies from Kagome's first aid kit, he knew that no matter what he did, even with his very best effort, this wound would not knit clean. For the rest of her days, this girl, Sango, would bear this scar on her back. And he had to wonder, even if she lived, if she would ever be whole again.