Bach Suite 1: Prelude
Hitching her bag over the side of the well, Kagome struggled with the overhanging vines until she was able to hoist herself out and on to solid ground. Craning her neck towards the sky and noticing the heavy gray clouds she thought wryly to herself, 'tut tut, looks like rain, tut tut.'
It was interesting, she thought. Rain. It felt like the beginning of something and the end of something all at once. How, for once, the heavens yearned towards earth, to touch down in crystalline drops, and earth, for moments was flooded and cleansed of the day's weariness. And the earth would in turn replenish the skies.
And she, too, felt like she needed a fresh start, or a fresh outlook. She was tired, and really hoped that it would rain. If only to refresh her weary spirits.
In her musings, Kagome almost didn't notice the piece of parchment on the ground. Her bag must have knocked it off the rim when she threw it over the lip of the well. Bending down to pick it up, she saw a note in neat, quick script that read,
Your sentiment has been received.
Kagome knew immediately who it was from, and let out a quick bark of a laugh. Of course that's all the note would say. That he even acknowledged her was saying a lot. But still, she couldn't help but grin all the way back to the village, as the first drops from above hit her skin.
And she was unaware of the eyes that lazily watched her retreat back to her companions. And with that, he thought, the rain would wash it all away. Too bad he didn't realize that ends also came with beginnings.