“All you have to do is keep your eye on the prize,” Miroku instructed. Kohaku nodded with and a new determination, marched to seek his goal. Sango, who had sat watching at a table, rolled her eyes and went back to her novel.

“He’s a good kid,” Miroku commented, taking the seat beside her and allowing his arm to fall over her shoulders. Sango took a look at the offending hand and sighed in resignation, deciding that it was appropriate, so long as the hand didn’t wander.

“He is — and I’d like him to stay that way.”

“He asked for advice,” Miroku cried in his own defense.

“Oh, you gave him advice all right,” Sango muttered, closing her book just as a slap echoed the cafeterium.

“He just needs some practice.”

Throwing him a look of disbelief, Sango stood to collect her rejected younger sibling. As Kohaku looked back, he gave Miroku a grin and waved. Nodding, Miroku called out to them.

“We’re still on for tonight, right?”