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Even after a year of marriage, and much longer of sleeping in comfortable beds, Miyo had not entirely lost her ability to fall deeply asleep in places not meant for sleeping. Nor had she quite stopped overestimating her chances of waiting up for the husband she wished to greet.
She had, in fact, got ready for bed; but then she had sat down at her dressing table with a book and decided to wait up just a little longer. The story had not been exciting, and she was now curled in a little heap with the book as a pillow.
Kiyoka smiled to see it; she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He wondered if he could put her to bed without waking her up. He turned down the cover, and went as silently as possible to wash and to change his clothes in his own room before very, very slowly and carefully picking Miyo up and pouring her into the bed.
He stared at her for a moment, covered her gently, then turned out the light, and it was this that woke her. She shifted a little, and whispered, “Oh. I fell asleep?”
“Yes.”
She reached out for him, and he slipped under the covers beside her. The dim moonlight glittered strangely on his face. Miyo rose up on one elbow, and touched his cheeks. They were wet. She gasped. “What’s the matter?”
“Miyo,”
“What happened?”
“Miyo,” he wrapped one arm around her, and wiped his face with the other hand. “Shhh, it’s all right. It’s a good thing.”
She relaxed, and gave him a little kiss. “Why? What thing?”
“Um ….” He had to think about how to explain it. “You were heavy.”
She did not understand. “What?”
“I picked you up … when you came to live here, I could lift you so easily. And now … all this time, you’ve eaten, and slept, and gone outside, and …” he stroked her hair. “I can feel it in your body. I’m so happy.”
“Oh.” She thought about it. “That’s all right, then.” She gave him another kiss. “You’re good to me.”
“I’m supposed to take care of you. And it worked. Go back to sleep.”
“Stay here?”
“Yes.”