Beethoven Quartet in C sharp minor, Op. 131
Kagome was having a day where she felt like a bunch of pent up contradictions. Both melodramatic and thoughtful, ecstatic and melancholy, for life at that moment felt like a series of swells and lilts all at once.
And she supposed that's because at most times, she embodied contradictions. Lived in two separate worlds entirely, and within each she held multiple roles, and multiple facets to those roles all at once. A miko, a school girl, a mother, a daughter, a friend, a warrior, a brave woman, and a scared girl. She was all of these, but still felt she was more than the sum of these parts.
But right now she was happy. She felt like skipping, or dancing, or crying with the absurdity of her life.
So putting on the second movement of Beethoven's quartet, she felt the violins lift her feet, the bounding cello make her short of breath. And she was climbing into laughter, which she did openly in the late afternoon's shade.
She must have looked ridiculous, and indeed she did to the passive onlooker, who regarded her quizzically from his roost. Until he noticed her sober up, as the voices from her items turned serious and melancholy. Her laughter subsided, and she gained a steely resolve in her countenance. He watched as she packed up her small boxes, and headed back towards her companions.