MUGEN
Storm
.
"I don't know why I accepted to go out like this. It will most probably rain on us soon, and given how muddy the mountain gets, I'll be covered in it before we arrive. My mother would say 'Kagome, I warned you, but you never take an umbrella with you!' but of course, they don't last long beneath the downpour we get around these days. And then there are these sandals, that don't take well bad weather."
You say, letting out a string of words so fast it's hard for me to fully know if I've heard them all. I look at you carefully, without understanding how or when that storm had begun to swirl around in your head.
"Don't complicate yourself," I start to say, yet you interrupt me before I manage to utter one full sentence.
"'Don't complicate yourself!' What things you say, InuYasha!" You look at me, then advert your eyes immediately. Your brow furrows as you look downwards, your steps heavy as if they wanted to leave a print on the ground. "Since I woke up this morning, I knew things wouldn't go well. The crow who stopped at our window was a sign foretelling a black and gloomy day; and now, how am I suppose to get there in a good mood, if I'm sure I've forgotten something?"
"What?" I wonder, venturing against my luck, as I walk beside you, waiting for you to discharge all of that dark energy that, if it were possible, I believe it could form a cloud over your head, as black as the crow from this morning.
"I don't know!" You gesture your hands up in a fit, using so much energy you lose your breath for an instant. Your steps are halted, and you look at me as you furrow your brow further. I step back, out of caution, as for a moment I get a flashback of the many times you threw that spell at me, and that now are just a memory in our life together. "I'm not angry with you," you say, as if seeking to clear that up, "is just this sensation I have."
For a moment I consider if I should ask what's that sensation you speak of, or if by asking I'm just complicating this thing that seems to have been born out of nothing. However, I don't need to say anything, for you continue venting on your own.
"The crow was incredibly black, and in the history of bad signs, that's one of the strongest," you keep gesturing with your hands, "the first great problem I had when I arrived at this time, was with a crow, with three eyes, who took the pearl, ate it, and to who I shot an arrow that ended up shattering it. Crack!"
Then your arms stop in the air, and your gaze settles on me.
"Actually, the first great problem I had was you, when you tried to kill me," you seem to want to point at me with a finger, as your brow furrows even further and I can almost see the way your hair gets tangled up just like the ideas in your head, "but I'm not angry with you."
I inhale to question your words, yet you retort.
"I knew I was forgetting something!"
"What?" I ask, again.
"The basket with my herbs," your lips become a thin line of frustration as you finish your sentence.
"This one?" I lift the basket I've been carrying since we left.
You look at the basket, and start to breathe in that way I know of you, which precedes tears. I consider asking you not to cry, but before I can, you hug me.
"I'm not angry with you," you mutter, and I accept that is good, sometimes, for the storm to be unleashed.
.
A/N
I've loved to write this moment. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I did while creating it.
Kisses,
Anyara
This text is possible thanks to the translation of: Dezart
