The lack of constant companionship had been even more difficult to get used to, in the beginning. Most of his life after the age of eleven had been spent travelling on his own, but the time he had spent with his friends seemed so natural, it was painfully difficult to adjust after he left them.
Miroku sighed and frowned deeply at the inky blackness of the evening. What was more difficult was leaving Sango. Whether it was due to the simple fact that he had kept her company more than anyone elses, or the fact that the promise he had secretly been looking forward to all that time looked like it would never come, he didn't know. Seeing her again had been a shock he hadn't expected, and strangely, it had hurt.
His hand throbbed again and Miroku scowled, squeezing it into a fist. Damn it all.