Kagome has offered to have the cabinet moved, but as soon as that statement left her lips, she changed her mind and merely told me I was letting it get the better of me. That there was nothing unnatural about it at all and it was an unnecessary hassle for those who would open their doors to a couple such as us. Especially considering that we should not be here much longer.
She's right, of course. It is a most comfortable room as much as anyone need wish, and, of course, I understand how much of a burden that would be to move such a heavy item. I would carry it myself if I did not feel so exhausted but such is the nature of my condition. In truth, I'm beginning to grow quite fond of these accommodations, all but for that accursed cabinet.
To avoid those eyes that seem to follow my every movement, I have taken to sitting just outside our door recently, despite the wind and snow that beats unrelentingly upon my face. I am able to see the snow gathering on the branches of the cherry blossom trees and in the various nooks and crannies of the architecture. What a sight it must be in the summer. I can almost see people walking amongst the beautiful shaded paths and arbors but Kagome has warned me not to explore them for myself during such a storm, especially in my condition. It is a comfort – a small comfort to be sure but one nonetheless – that she finally seems to be acknowledging something is wrong with me. Still, she insists that I ought to keep myself in check and not spread news of my condition to others for fear of being told to leave.
I would have already forced us to leave if it were not for this latest development. A woman carrying a child is in no condition to be wandering about at a time like this.