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By the time Giyu and Shinobu returned to their room, the lamps along the corridors had already been dimmed. Even the usual rustling from the gardens had disappeared beneath the soft sounds of the night. It had been another exhausting day spent tending to patients, preparing medicines, training, and handling countless small responsibilities that could not be left until tomorrow. Their son had fallen asleep hours ago.
“He must have been very tired today,” Shinobu murmured as she loosened the ribbon holding her hair together. Giyu stepped closer and gently took the ribbon from her fingers. He gathered her hair and ran his fingers through it, slowly working out the tangles left behind by another long day.
Shinobu closed her eyes, letting his hand move through her hair.
She turned around and rested her forehead against his chest, a giddy feeling bubbling in her chest as he moved his hand from her hair to wrap both arms around her small waist. The kiss came naturally, tentative and soft, but of course, as always, it did not stay that way for long. She placed one hand against his chest while the other rested around his neck, deepening the angle, their tongues meeting between huffs of laughter and his soft, breathless sounds. Even as they moved toward the futon, accidentally bumping into something in the dark, their bodies refused to part.
For once, there was nowhere else they needed to be. Her fingers scratched at his shirt, eager to pull it apart.
“Mama?” A voice came from the hallway. Both of them immediately lifted their heads. Their son appeared in the doorway, rubbing one eye and holding his stomach with the other hand.
“I’m hungry,” he announced, looking between his parents.
Giyu sat up and reached for his robe; Shinobu did the same, though she couldn’t help covering her mouth to hide her laughter. They walked together toward the kitchen, their son holding one of Shinobu’s hands; Giyu carried him when his tired little legs began to drag. Shinobu prepared some warm soup, and Giyu sat beside their son, patiently waiting for him to finish every bite.
Just like any child, their son became sleepy again as soon as his stomach was satisfied. Giyu carried him back upstairs. His wife followed behind, smiling as she watched her husband carefully tuck their child beneath the blankets.
“Good night, sweetheart,” Shinobu whispered, pressing a kiss against his forehead. Giyu adjusted the blanket one final time before closing the door behind them.
The evening they had intended to spend with each other was gone just like that. But it was alright; they had another evening tomorrow, and the evening after that, and more to come.
Shinobu slipped her hand into his and leaned against his shoulder as they walked back toward their room. The estate might always need them, and their son would undoubtedly find another reason to wake them before morning, but neither of them minded.
After all, this noisy, tiring, imperfect life was the one they had built together.