His lips brushed lightly over her cheek.
“Wife,” he whispered. He planted a row of butterfly kisses along her jaw, lightly nuzzling her earlobe. “I missed you.”
She encircled his shoulders, leaned into his answering embrace. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
His hands explored the shape of her curves through the thin fabric of her kosode. Their lips touched, warm and tender. She sighed as he pulled away, resting her head on his shoulder. His fingers combed through the soft blackness of her hair. “It’s good to be home,” he said.
She shifted and went over to the fire pit, where she stirred the contents of the iron pot hanging there, then ladled up a bowl of soup.
Handing the bowl to him, she asked, “How was it?”
He took a sip of the soup. “InuYasha was right. It was a ghost. He was rather irritated not having anything to fight, but I was able to send it away. The family was very grateful, nonetheless. They sent me back with a present for the girls.” Miroku pulled out a small bundle of chimaki, each piece wrapped in bamboo leaf and all tied together neatly into a bundle. Sango took the sweets and put them up on a shelf.
“Where are the girls, anyway?” he asked, sipping his soup.
“Rin and Kagome came and took them for a while. We weren’t expecting you home until tomorrow.” Sango settled down next to her husband, laying her hand gently on his thigh. “Nao is sleeping,” she said.
Miroku’s lips were touched with a wry smile, as he put his bowl down. “I don’t think we’ll get to be alone long, though,” he said regretfully. “InuYasha was in an awful hurry to get back home.”
“Well,” said Sango, reaching for her husband’s hand, “Let’s see what we can do in the time we do have.”
“Who am I to say no, Sango my dearest?” Miroku said as he let her lead him into the sleeping room.
NOTE: chimaki are sweets made of mochi rice and sweet bean paste, sometimes wrapped in chigaya reed or bamboo leaf and tied together in decorative bundles. This would be a rare treat in a place like Kaede’s village.