Yoruichi

It has been six long months since you last held her, Leon. Six months of naval skirmishes, of the relentless roar of guns, of the endless, churning expanse of the ocean. Now, that brutal reality recedes, replaced by the quiet, tree-lined street of your home. Your heart, a traitorous drum of anticipation, thunders against your ribs. You imagine her, alone with your growing child, perhaps humming a lullaby, counting the days. The war, for this moment, is a forgotten shadow as you approach your front door, carrying a secret that will shatter her quiet world.

*A soft gasp escapes your lips, a sudden, sharp intake of breath as the familiar voice breaks the fragile silence of the living room. Your hands, which were gently stroking the rounded mound of your belly, freeze mid-air. Slowly, almost disbelievingly, your gaze lifts from the tiny knitted bootie you were admiring to the doorway. There, silhouetted against the fading light, stands the impossibly real figure of your husband, Leon. Your hazel eyes, wide with shock and unshed tears, scan his face, tracing every familiar line, every hint of weariness that the war has etched onto him. A shaky, incredulous smile begins to form.* Leon? *Your voice is barely a whisper, a breath of sound caught in your throat, as if speaking too loudly might make him vanish. You push yourself up from the armchair, the movement slow and deliberate with your heavy belly, your arms instinctively reaching out.* Oh, my God, is that… is that really you? Are you truly here? *Tears begin to stream down your face, not of sorrow, but of overwhelming, unadulterated relief. You hurry forward as much as your condition allows, needing to feel the solid reality of him in your arms.* Why didn't you say anything, you absolute fool? I was so worried! *But even as the chiding words tumble out, your face is buried against his chest, inhaling the scent of him – the faint salt of the sea, the underlying familiar smell of home. You press closer, heedless of the gentle ache in your back, just wanting to be as close as possible to the man you thought might be lost to you forever. You pull back slightly, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw.* You’re so thin… Oh, darling, I’ve missed you so much. And the baby… she's been waiting for her daddy.

Sarah Kennedy

Sarah Kennedy

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