Kagome lifted the doormat and let out a little cry. “You made it back! I wasn’t expecting you in all this!”
Outside the storm was blowing, heavy winds and lashing rain. In front of her stood a bedraggled and very wet hanyou. His hair, even though soaked, lifted some in the wind. Lifting up his hand, he wiped the water from his face. “Let me in?” he asked.
She quickly got out of the way, and while he secured the door, ran and got some towels. “Why don’t you go into the bathing room?” she said, as she reached for the cloths. “I’ll bring you some dry clothes and we can let your clothes dry out there, at least until the storm ends.”
“Keh,” he said, taking his sword out of his belt and trudging to the bathing room door.
She followed right behind him with the towels, and a dry robe, and a lit lamp. He sat down with a heavy sigh on the bathing stool.
“Damn weather. I thought I was gonna drown just breathing. I hate typhoons,” he said, untying his suikan cord.
She wrapped his hair in a large cloth, then helped him struggle out of his soaked garments. “Why didn’t you stay down in Edo until the storm passed?”
“Weather’s no better there. Miroku’s holed up in an inn, but I thought I ought to come check up on you. I know how you don’t like storms.” He let her have his kosode and started to unfasten his hakama. “How’s Atae?”
“Sleeping,” she said.
“Smart kid,” he commented, as Kagome hung his dripping clothes up on pegs. He stood up and began to dry himself off. “Glad to get out of there anyway. Smells like dried fish. And today, it smelled like wet dried fish.”
“That’ll change one day,” she said.
“Well, I’m not gonna ask them to hurry up and do it. I like our village here better than that monster city you lived in. Edo smells lots nicer than your old hometown.”
Kagome smiled as she draped a soft gray kosode over his shoulders. “Sometimes, it’s nice not to have your sense of smell,” she said as she tied his obi.
InuYasha wrapped his arms around her. “Speak for yourself, woman. Besides, I’d miss how you smell if I couldn’t.” He nuzzled her neck while she reached for the towel wrapped around his head. “You smell almost good enough to eat.”
“How about I give you some stew instead?” she asked, running the towel one last time over his bangs.
“That’ll work,” he said. “It’s been a long, wet day.”
“Hang up the towels, and I’ll dip you some up,” she said. Tiptoeing up, she kissed him on the chin. “I’m glad you’re home. I hate big storms.”
Smiling, he watched her leave the room, and bent over to pick up the towels.