I'm not even sure what inspired this? I guess I always really loved how throughout the series (unless Ataru is being a jerk) he sort of just acknowledges that his home is also Lum's home. There's a lot of sub-text to the story, plenty of unspoken things. The last part honestly came to me first, then the rest of the story fleshed around it. It's short though :3
Earth was a fascinating place, Lum concluded to herself as she sat beside her half-sleeping husband. Ataru was bent over the edge of the table, his chin resting on the surface of it, arms folded into his lap. Lum was far more alert, though she wore a pensive, almost wistful expression. On the television, which had sapped nearly all of Ataru's energy, was a documentary about a small migratory bird - so explained a gentle disembodied voice. The little black Flycatcher hopped about through branches, throat trembling as it gave song to the warm summer winds of Japan where, as Lum learned, it vacationed to raise young. And then when temperatures mellowed it would again return to distant shores, to China, Indonesia, and other countries, where the weather treated it better.
Yes Earth was captivating, so it surprised Lum to learn, over the course of her studies, that humankind was a stranger to much of their own world. The deep ocean, highest peaks, and evasive creatures such as the colossal squid, eluded them almost completely. And they seemed fine with that, almost proud of it, to have so many unanswered questions. As if not knowing was somehow a marvel in and of itself. Even the most adventurous among them often stopped short of completing their missions - usually at the onset of risk. Oh, well, perhaps that was sensible for such a weak species. Sensible, though not the least bit satisfying to Lum, who personified an inheritance of seekers and fighters and harbored within her blood the ghosts of invaders past that molded her.
Strange as mankind was in that regard, Lum's attention wasn't necessarily there, nor had it been fully captured by the Flycatcher. Maybe initially she'd fallen prey to its charm, the wonder of Earth, and the novelty of learning about a creature who lived between shores. But that course of thought had inspired a comparison between her and the ebony bird, and once it was made, she could think of nothing else. Despite how well she'd adapted or the scant few similarities she'd been able to mark between Oniboshi and Earth - even the peculiar folk tales of demons and ogres that almost mirrored her species - Lum was acutely aware of her status as an outsider. It wasn't something she gave voice to, but she felt it every time her friends called upon her powers or she found herself fabricating emotions she'd never experienced just to fit in. Lum was an observer, studying the procession of life and the interactions of her peers with the hope that one day she'd adopt them as her own. Not only for the sake of her marriage, but for her own peace of mind. Lum wondered about the bird, if it shared her struggles. Did it long for the comforts of its nest, or the familiar cadences of the language it grew under? Did they ever look upon the horizon and see beyond it to the home they'd left behind?
Lum slumped against the table with an audible sigh, weighed down by the heaviness of her thoughts. Her arms folded and she rested her chin in the empty space between them. She didn't regret her choice, nor would she ever abandon the coveted post at her dear husband's side. Still...
"Sometimes I miss home."
A heavy hand set down on her head, halting her thoughts and stealing her breath. It slid back and forth between her horns in lazy strokes that brought more alarm, if only for how unexpected the gesture was. Lum stole a glance to the side, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Ataru's face still dripped with fatigue, his eyes glazed over and inattentive. And yet somehow her voice had reached him through that tired fog, and uninhibited by pride, he'd reached back to comfort her. Love softened her face and brought a gentle smile to her mouth. But it was what he said next that truly moved her heart.
"Idiot." Ataru chided, his tone softened by weariness. "We are home."