Drabble Two: Peripheral Life
Summary: Who of us would choose suffering? The courage and fortitude of a woman's heart.
Word Count: 368
The sun is blinding behind him as he extends a calloused hand towards me. "Shall we go home, Kaoru-dono?" he says warmly, his mask of a smile locked in place. As unmovable as the scar graven into his left cheek, as interminable as the guilt binding his heart.
With sudden trepidation, I realize what life with this man will be like. He was and ever is a wanderer, driven by repentance and bound by his character to do his utmost for the world. Life with him would mean much more than compromise, more than mere obedience and fulfilling my duties as wife. Life with him would be a sacrifice to the uttermost, loving him yet maintaining the distance he requires, supporting all his endeavors yet allowing him to shoulder his own burdens, providing comfort whenever needed yet watching him leave when he is compelled to go again. I see myself in the future, gray-haired and wrinkled, my eyes blind from staring into the sunset, watching for the return of my itinerant husband, and my chest aching from years of worry on his behalf. The vivid image shakes me to the core.
Unbidden, words tumble out. "Kenshin, maybe..."
My voice falters and my mind blanks. Maybe what? Maybe we shouldn't go home together tonight? Maybe we should reconsider living together? Maybe we should go our separate ways?
No. Ridiculous. There is no maybe for that. There is no life without him, not after all this time, all the tears, all the laughter. Knowing he is a part of my future is what gives me peace to sleep at night, courage to face the mornings, and joy to revel in the beauty of the world. Maybe I'll suffer, maybe we'll be apart for long periods of time, maybe I'll even give in to crying sessions each day, but having him is worth more than all that combined.
I return his patient, carefully carefree smile. The halo of sunlight around him cloaks a man struggling with eternal demons, and I am meant to struggle with him.
"Maybe," I say again, slipping my hand into his offered one, "I'll buy the tofu tomorrow morning."
He has chosen his life. I choose mine.