Of Water and Weighty Matters
There were times, usually as Kagome trudged up the path from the stream, buckets of water in her hands, that she would remember the kitchen faucet and the bathroom faucet and the water to the washing machine.
This was one of those moments.
“You’re remembering again,” the soft voice of her husband chided, sighing a little as he took the buckets out of her hands. “I can always tell.”
“Thanks, InuYasha,” she said as she rolled her shoulders a bit and shook out her hands. “What do you mean, I was remembering again?”
Kagome smoothed out her blue and white wrap skirt with one hand while resting another hand lightly on the red sleeve of her husband’s jacket.
“Your eyes get this funny, misty look, and I can tell you’re not really seeing what’s here, but what’s back at your old home,” he replied, his ears drooping like they would do when he felt guilty about something.
Kagome sighed a little “There’s nothing for you to feel bad about, InuYasha.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’m where I want to be, and I’ve learned so much since I’ve come back.” She unslung the baby carrier off her back and took her sleeping child in her arms, brushing the bangs out of his forehead, rubbing his small puppy ears. Atae didn’t stir.
They neared the house.
“For instance,” Kagome said, “Once I didn’t appreciate water. I turned a dial or a nob and there it was, instantly, hot or cold. I underestimated it and took it for granted in those days. Now I know it has weight, and presence and isn’t something I can take for granted. We carry every bit of water we’re using into the house ourselves. We know it matters.”
“Keh,” he replied. He put down the buckets, and took a step towards her, his eyes looking at her with a warm intensity. His hand reached out and brushed her cheek. “I know what matters most,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.
She smiled up at him. “Then you wouldn’t mind filling up the laundry tub?”
“Long as you don’t start to take me for granted,” he said.
“Never,” she replied. “And when you’re done, be sure you take off you kosode. It needs a good wash.”
“Feh,” he said as he tipped one of the buckets into the waiting tub sitting in the shade of a nearby tree. “You just want to see me run around the place with no shirt on.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I know what matters,” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips, and then walking inside to lay her sleeping son down and gather her laundry.