My name is Kagome.

I am an ordinary woman with ordinary desires.

I wanted to fall in love with the man of my dreams.

Sound familiar?

It should. It's just like a dream of any other woman of my age. Or…well perhaps when I was 16. Yes, those were indeed such childish years of naïve beliefs and died hopes. But what can I say?

Reality hit me soon enough.

I was so young back then. I still look back and think of all the things I did or didn't do, and I have a few regrets. Just a few…

I have long since learned to not dwell on the past. My loved ones around me can tell when I am brooding over such issues. They cast me worried looks and comment about my health. They must know that I am fine, but they cannot help but ask. I have been doing this quite often as of late. I never used to, but for some unknown reason, I am now. Perhaps it is the seasons…my current condition… or maybe my memories have caught up to me. It is something that won't escape me.

I won't let it.

I mean… it was such an important part of my life that affect me in such a way, how could I possibly forget? Like I said, I only have a few regrets and I can't continue thinking of them so much. But of course, it doesn't hurt to remember them once and a while.

Its cold now, the house is empty. I feel a sense of loneliness come over me.

I've felt it before.

Oh just hear myself now! Worrying over such trivial things! How can I expect to live my life? How can I hope to make the ones around me happy?

By shutting up… that's how.

Ha. We all know how that's going to turn out. Everyone who knows me knows that I won't shut up. It's just the way I am.

Did he notice that?

I never thought of it like that.

It seems the more I dwell on the issue, the more pressing it seems to become. It will be on my mind all day. I best not try to forget it. Perhaps there is a reason. A reason I have not found yet.

I apologize for my ranting. It must be a dreadful bore. Allow me to explain myself. Allow me to relive those days…

Allow me to tell you the story…

Of how I met my husband…


1955s-10 years ago

"Kagome! Please hurry and help me with these dishes!"

"Yes mama!" I answered quickly. Trotting down the stairs, I quickly made my way to the kitchen, wetting my hands with warm soapy water. While I scrubbed vigorously, my mama dried them. We were both awaiting the arrival of my father from work. My sixteenth birthday was in two days.

My mom, dad, brother Souta, and I lived out in the country side. Our family lived in a very traditional and older part of Japan. It was very peaceful and routine. It was where I grew up all my life. I knew of no other place.

But I always dreamed of going somewhere else.

"Kagome… please stop daydreaming." My mother's sharp command brought me from my thoughts and I quickly averted my eyes back to the shinning plate. By now, my hands were wrinkling and red from the hot water.

Not much later, my father walked through the doors.

He greeted us joyfully and made his presence known. I hugged him tightly and young Souta wrapped his arms around his knee. My father smiled and ruffled my brother's hair. I felt my mother's gaze on my back and remember my negligence of the dishes and doing so, my father's back was wet with suds.

But my father paid no heed. He approached my mother and kissed her softly on the lips. I watched with glee at such affection. I dreamed some day, my husband embracing me in a similar way.

I was such a hopeless romantic.

"Kagome," my father began, "I have a surprise for you." I searched his hands for a present and he laughed at my actions.

"Actually, it concerns the carnival that came in to town recently. I thought perhaps we could check it out?" He pulled four slips of paper from his pocket, waving them slightly.

I grinned broadly at the sight and hugged him tightly, once again, forgetting my soapy hands. I heard my mother protest, but I ignored her. It had been so long since I had been out of the house. I was home schooled so most of my time was spent here, helping my mother. Not that I didn't enjoy it.

It felt nice to do something different.


We left for the carnival after dinner. It was a beautiful sight. Lights flashing, people talking, delicious food aromas everywhere. I had imagined it no other way. My father quickly handed me some money and said that I could walk around on my own for a while. Clutching the money in my hand, I made my way to some of the attractions.

There were the traditional events: magical shows and horse rides. But one thing caught my eye.

It was a big balloon suspended above the rest.

And that was when I saw him.

He was handsome, dashing, a complete heart throb. Jet black hair tied up and startling eyes that seemed to gaze in to the very soul. He wore a simple white shirt and black pants. He leaned against a sign that read:

Balloon Rides: Get a beautiful view of the city.

Beautiful was spelled wrong, but I ignored it. I just couldn't stop starring at him. He eventually took notice, and looked my way. I could have very nearly fainted when he smirked my way. He motioned me over with a tilt of his head and I obliged.

"Hi…" I squeaked out pathetically. He chuckled at my embarrassment and winked. Oh my… he would be the death of me!

"Want a ride?" He asked. I was startled by his question and quickly pulled out the money I had. He grasped my hand and closed it gently over the money. I found his eyes boring in to mine and gasped.

"It's all on me, little darling." Grasping my wrist, he lead me up the steps and in to the hot air balloon. I was startled at first as we ascended, but soon relaxed and admired the view. It was like being in another world. I loved every minute of it.

"What's you name?" I looked at him shyly to see him pulling out a cigarette. He lit it quickly and puffed out in to the air.

"Kagome…" I answered. I watched him blow a few more, before remembering my manners.

"Uh… what's yours? Uh… your name that is…" He continued starring at the sky and smiled… again!

"I go by lots of names… Just call me…Yoko for now. Perhaps I will tell you my real name once we get acquainted more." He leaned closer ever so slowly and I blushed, feeling his hot smoky breath on my face.

He seemed amused by my actions.

"Kagome huh?" I nodded. "Beautiful name, for a beautiful girl." It was the first time a guy ever called me that. I couldn't even try to hold back the gasp in my throat. If possible, my face grew even redder. I rubbed my hands together for warmth and found that they were sweating. Yoko noticed my actions.

"Here." He put his hands over mine and began rubbing them slowly. I gulped loudly and stared in to his eyes. They held such affection and admiration for me. Just me.

I didn't even notice when we landed on the ground.


My mother must have noticed.

My father too.

Heck, probably the whole neighborhood noticed.

My spirits were much higher. There was an extra bounce to every step I took. I smiled for no reason. I did everything I was told. I was nice to Souta.

It had been two days since my encounter with Yoko. My birthday had finally arrived and I was thrilled. But one other thing would make it all the more better…

"Papa…" I asked quietly, keeping my eyes downward. He looked up from the paper he was reading and regarded me smiling.

"Can we go… back to the carnival today?" He looked mildly surprised by my question.

"Well Kagome… we just…" I made sure to keep my eyes downward and to avoid his gaze. My shoulders slumped slightly and I sighed sadly. My father smiled.

"Alright…" he finally agreed. "It is your birthday and since you like it so much…." My eyes sparkled with happiness and I embraced my father. He stroked my hair fondly and told me to get ready. I told him not to worry.

I was already ready…


He was in the same spot as last time.

Still gorgeous.

Still stunning.

And still completely alone.

I paid no mind to the deserted section of his booth and trotted forward. He recognized me immediately.

"Kagome, darling! How nice to see you again!" I blushed brightly and nodded. He took my hand and led me on to the ramp and on to the balloon. My excited squeal must have signaled my excitement at the prospect of riding in it again. We rose even higher this time and I couldn't keep my excited eyes off the scene.

As I gazed onward, I felt a tap on my shoulder and spun around. Yoko was right there in front of me, his face inches from my own. He leaned against the side and pulled out another cigar. I watched his every movement as if he were a God.

"So tell me about yourself…" He spoke first regarding me fondly.

I spoke of my life at home…my family, my friends, my memories, everything. It was as if I was spelling my life out to him. He spoke little and made a few comments here and there. That was just fine with me. Being in his presence, it was like heaven.

I told him my dream: Of finding the perfect man and falling in love and living forever with him. He smiled at this. As I spoke, I turned around and gazed out at the scenery speaking everything from the heart. I wanted it all. I wanted to leave Japan to find a new adventure. I wanted to find the man of my dreams.

He tapped my shoulder and I spun around to stare in to his eyes. He touched my hair and cheek. He growled low in his throat…

…and then brought his lips down to mine.


"Kagome, where have you been sneaking off to at night?" My father questioned his face hard and serious. My mother was standing right next to him looking equally as serious. I was cornered.

Ever since my kiss with Yoko, I had been visiting him every night; every night for 2 weeks. I would sneak out through my window and run to the carnival sight. His tent was located near his booth. I would rush in and he would be there waiting for me. We never did anything more than kiss.

But believe me… we kissed a lot.

We would cuddle within each others arms. He would stoke my hair, his eyes glazed over with what could only be described as a passionate lust. My lips would bruise from his handlings, but I loved ever minute of it. I looked forward to it everyday, knowing he would be there for me. I didn't feel alone.

Sometimes our tirades would extend out in to the night, close to sunrise, that time in which I would have to hurry home before my parents woke. But it mattered not to me as much. In fact, it seemed to matter to me less and less of what my parents thought. Those nights I spent with Yoko were so wonderful and so much like the dreams I had had before.

I was in love.

I never asked Yoko if he loved me. But I confessed it every night to him after the first week. He never said anything, and just kept kissing me. And he never did tell me his real name…

But now… now standing in front of my parents, I felt like it was all about to end.

My father repeated the question. I didn't answer.

"Is it that carnival boy?" my father asked sternly. My face flushed immediately. I had been caught. My father noticed my actions.

"Who is this boy?" my mother asked stepping forward slightly. I took a step back.

"Kagome… we are just concerned for you…" my father assured me, but I did not feel any better.

"We know you've been sneaking out to see him. We know all about it…"

"It's none of your business…" I snapped. Since when had I become so angry?

"We'll have none of that Kagome!" my father ordered, raising his voice slightly. My father never yelled. I was not afraid. I raised my chin a little higher in defiance.

"You don't even know this boy! You can't trust him." My mother had stepped in to my line of fire. I snapped back at her.

"You don't know anything! I love Yoko and he loves me!" I proclaimed. That might have been a stretch from the truth, but frankly, I didn't care. I knew what I felt, and I didn't care what my parents thought. Not anymore…

"Kagome!" my father yelled. I flinched slightly. I had never heard him yell before. "Use your common sense! You hardly know him and it's not safe with him! We've heard things about him Kagome! He's a criminal! He's got a record! He's not trustworthy!"

Each word pierced me deep. How dare they speak of Yoko like that! I love him! Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I didn't even bother to hide them. I felt broken and alone.

"You know nothing." I spoke dangerously low and bolted out of the house hearing my mother and father's cries. I ignored them and headed for the only place I knew I would be safe: In Yoko's arms.

I arrived there in record time, my eyes still puffy and red from tears. I stumbled upon Yoko's camp site, only to find that the tent was pack up. Yoko was just putting the last of his belongings in to the balloon. He was leaving?

"Yoko!" I cried. And he turned toward me. He gave me a grim smile. I leapt in to his arms and embraced him. He hesitantly embraced me back.

"You're early…" he whispered tiredly. I sobbed in to his shirt, grasping at the material.

"I know…" I replied. In a rush, I tried explaining everything to Yoko about what my parents said, but he silenced me with a finger over my lips just as got halfway through the explanation.

"I don't have time for this. I have to go Kagome… I have other places to go and see." My eyes widened in fear. How could he possibly leave me after all this? How could he just abandon me! I begged him to let me come with him, but he shook his head.

"You're not even ready…"

"Yes I am! I am always ready when I'm with you!" He sighed quietly and gently pushed me off of him. I was so startled and afraid. I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to see the world with him! Couldn't he understand that!?

"No…" he stated firmly and turned his body and jumped in to the balloon. Starting the fire, he slowly began to ascend in to the sky. And all I could do was watch.

"Wait!" I cried before he could get out of hearing range. His eyes locked with mine and I smiled.

"I love you!" I cried. It was a pathetic line, but I just wanted to hear him say it. He just sighed loudly. He might have rolled his eyes, but I could not be certain.

"I'll send you a letter Kagome. Telling you where I am, so that you can come see me."

"Really?!" I exclaimed in amazement. I hadn't lost him yet! He just waved me off and ascended even higher and faster in to the air. His words still rang in my ears.

I'll send you a letter Kagome. Telling you where I am, so that you can come see me.

I knew he would. I just knew it! I loved him and he loved me! We would never be apart! I had faith! Dropping to my knees, I smiled happily knowing that my love would send word as soon as he could.

And that was how my parents found me.


It has been three weeks.

Three weeks since my love promised to send word for me.

And thus I have waited. Everyday I wait at the steps in front of our house. I wait for the mailman to come. He comes everyday (except Sundays) with a new load of letters to be given. One of which I hope is from my dear Yoko.

I am a very patient woman so I guess you could say that my patience was put to the test. This was fine by me, for I had no problem with proving my love and worth to Yoko. I never spoke a word of Yoko's letter to my parents. They would not have understood. I had been punished of course, but they never spoke of my behavior again. They just assumed me to be daydreaming out doors everyday and that I would bring in the mail. It was disappointing to see no letter for me, but I let it pass.

Tomorrow was always another day.

This afternoon however, was slightly different. The young mailman came as always around the corner, right on time. And there I was, waiting for him; waiting for him to bring me joyous news. For some reason, I had the notion in mind that today was the day. It was the day where I would receive my letter.

I jumped up at the sight of the mailman, waving brightly to him and puting on one of more stunning smiles. He seemed to notice this and blushed rather brightly. Usually, when this young mailman would come, he would simply hand me the mail without a word. Such an arrogant and rude man to not even greet me; nothing at all like my one and only Yoko.

"Hello." I greeted. "Nice day huh?"

He cocked an eye brow at my question and fished out the daily letters. Mumbling a quiet "Here.", he handed me my letters and walked off without a word. I thanked him as he walked off but he said not a word. Well I suppose it is nice that I got one word out of him. His voice had been gruff and rough along the edges, fitting for his scowling face and appearance.

But sadly, this was the only thing interesting for the day.

Not one of the letters was from Yoko.


It has been nearing four months now, but my hope has not dwindled.

I still wait patiently for Yoko.

No one else knows the reason behind my everyday waiting. I simply do not wish to tell them.

I have made quite an acquaintance with my mailman in the past four months. We have spoken a few times; usually a few days during of the week. Whether it is a simple greeting or a small conversation, things are looking up for us.

We've talked of the most random things. Sometimes we argue over opinions, but he never leaves angry. It is always settled in the end, usually in my favor. I've shared many things with him, and frankly, I may confide in him a lot more than my own parents. He naturally gives his input of his life, which is a nice change from just me talking. I already talk far too much…

I learned that he lives with his mother. He had a brother and a father, but they both died years ago. He works to help his mother out with rent and food and hopes to one day own some sort of business. I admire such structure in his life because I still do not know what I want to do. He assures me that I will find my answer.

On one odd occasion I confess my dreams: The dream of finding love and marrying my true love. I do not reveal my love for Yoko. It would not be right.

My mailman looks troubled by my dream confession and blushes brightly when I gaze at him worriedly. I ask if he is alright, but he leaves abruptly, mumbling a small "Goodbye" before turning the corner out of sight.

I hope I did not trouble him with anything I said…


It has been nearly nine months now. I have waited patiently all these months. Everyday I wait. I picture my love's face in front of me, smiling that devilishly handsome smirk. I see his lips as he kisses me and I have pictured his proposal billions of times in my head. I cannot wait for him to come.

But I soon realize he will not.

Another month passes and one morning, I feel a sudden stir within my body; a feeling of hopelessness and loss of another. I feel sick inside; physically sick: a nauseous feeling threatening in the pit of my stomach just waiting to come out. It has hit me so hard; I did not even realize it.

My hope seems to have died within me.

The fire that burned brightly for my love is dwindling to a small, extinguishable flame.

I feel tired and stressed. It had been to long. My body feels as if it is about to die out. Something inside me shatters and breaks. Like a glass pane that I have pounded upon for so long has finally caved in. A bucket of ice water has been poured over me; I feel its iciness pool over me as I reach a startling conclusion.

Yoko is not coming for me.

He is not sending me the letter.

Who's to say he even intended to at all?

The realization of this leaves me wallowing in a large pit of despair. I stay in bed for days, not wanting to come out. My parents call a doctor, but he only says that I am suffering from some sort of depression and fatigue. I rest for many days. I sleep and hardly eat. I feel broken inside.

I feel alone.


It has been almost three weeks since I last waited for the mail.

I am better now. A little healthier, but I still feel saddened. Yoko will never come for me.

Was I not good enough?

Was I not pretty enough?

Was I anything to him at all?

I curse myself for my stupidity and waste of all these months.

My parents notice my distress and say that I should not stay in the house that much longer. They tell me I need a break and that I need to have some fun; that I need to get out and do something with my life. All I do is mope around the house. But I don't want to do anything. I just want to sleep.

But of course, it would not be so.

The very next day my father storms in to my room and demands for my attention. He jolts me awake from my slumber and says that today I will go out and do something. I remind him that it is Sunday, the day of resting, and I pull the covers over my head. He shakes me awake and says that a boy is here to see me.

I jolt awake.


"It's that young mailman. He came to the house yesterday asking for you. He said he hadn't seen you outside for days and wanted to know if you were okay. I assured him that you were fine and promised him that you would be well tomorrow. He looked quite happy to hear that." My father held an all knowing smile on his face. I blushed.

"Well what's he doing here?" I asked, now fully awake.

"Apparently, he missed you and wanted to see you, and he did ask me if he could take you out today and I said yes. So you better get ready. He's waiting in the other room…" I was too stunned to speak. How could my father do this to me? I felt so bad for making the mailman wait. In record speed, I raced about the room and the bathroom and was ready in a manner of minutes. My father chuckled at my distress and I threw a glare his way, promising to talk to him later.

I stepped out of the hallway to see the mailman waiting for me by the door. He was wearing black pants and a red top, so different from his usual mailman attire. His long black hair was tied back, his hands slipped in to his pockets as he waited. I blushed in my long yellow skirt and light blue top. It was like we were opposites.

He saw me approach and rubbed the back of his neck shyly. A blush was forming on his face. "Hi…" he mumbled.

Maybe it was his shyness. Maybe it was his concern for me that brought him here. Or maybe it was because looked so adorable in his clothes. Whatever the reason, I smiled. I smiled a real smile for the first time in months.

Taking my hand ever so gently, he led me outside. We had walked a few steps when he asked me if it was okay if we went to the Noodle Shop across the street for lunch. I nodded a yes and thanked him for taking me out of the house.

"It was nothing…" he replied. At that moment, he realized that his fingers were still laced with mine, and he released me as if he had been burned. Mumbling an apology, he stuck his hands in to his pockets and avoided my eyes.

I giggled at his shyness and linked my arm though his. His blush indicated his embarrassment. But I had no shame at his actions and neither should he. I felt happier than I had ever felt in the past nine months.

I didn't feel alone anymore.

"What's your name?" I asked. I felt stupid. After all this time, I didn't know his name. I'm sure he knew mine, after handling all the mail and speaking to my father. I stared in to his eyes and noticed for the first time that they were a stunning violet.

"I-I… Well it would just feel weird going though the day not knowing your name…" I stuttered. He smirked in my direction and relaxed his arms a bit.



I fear that I must end my story here.

My husband is home.

He embraces me from behind and kisses my temple, placing his hand on my slightly bulging stomach. He whispers sweet words in to my ear and spins me around, away from my dish duty. I feel his lips claim mine, a familiar feeling that I am quite used to by now, but I never tire of it. I feel like I'm in heaven.

He leaves me for the moment to change upstairs, and finish what he started later on.

After my lunch date with Inuyasha that day, my life seemed to spin in a totally different direction. I still greeted my mailman everyday, but of course, for different reasons. He would usually stay long and talk to me. He would always ask how I was and we would talk of more random things. It surprises me that he was never fired from his job.

My incident with Yoko indeed traumatized me quite a bit, but of course, I learned from it. I healed from it.

And it was all thanks to Inuyasha.

Time, as you may have guessed, pasted fleetingly with Inuyasha, and our dates extended and grew more numerous as years passed.

He helped me through all my struggles and pain. He asked me out often and we spent much of our time together. My parents adored him and I suppose that is a good thing. I felt so much happier in his presence and I am so thankful for him.

I still remember our first kiss. It was his first kiss.

He was so terribly shy and nervous. It was on my eighteenth birthday. I was waiting for him, like always, in front of my house. I had thought that he had forgotten my birthday.

I was mistaken.

He had presented me with a small package, with no name on it. He said it was for me. I opened it right then and there and inside was a single white rose and a silver necklace. I just knew it was from him.

I flung my arms around him just as he said, "Happy Birthday." He held me fondly and I stared in to his violet eyes. I knew he was going to kiss me. I saw it coming a mile off, but I made no motion to stop it. He gently cupped my face with his hands and bent his head toward mine, locking lips with me. It was the most romantic moment of my life. His movements in the kiss were amateur and inexperienced, a little tentative and unsure, but that was the farthest thing from my mind.

All that mattered to me at that moment was him.

Of course, his kisses got much better as time progressed. You could say that they soon developed a sort of cocky and confident edge to them…

Anyway… as I said, time progressed, and before I knew it, it had been four years since I had met Inuyasha. He proposed to me, as you might have guessed. It was in front of everyone at the… you guessed it: The Noodle Shop where we had our first lunch date. Where, I must also mention, is the business that Inuyasha now owns, just as he wished. He is the perfect man for such a job since he consumes so many of those meals daily.

Our wedding was a traditional one; simple, original and nothing too extravagant, but definitely memorable. It was one of the happiest days of my life. I moved out of my parent's house and in to one for Inuyasha and me.

Inuyasha is now coming back down from our room. I stop my dish duty to see him flash me his traditional smirk. He gathers me in to his arms, gently of course, and carries me to the couch. He positions me in his lap and holds me close and protectively, like my own strong warrior whom I love so much.

Of course Inuyasha has his flaws. His temper is one to be reckoned with, and he can be a little stubborn at times, but he has a loving heart and a caring soul. I accept him for that and in return, he accepts me. We complete one another, like two halves of a whole. I know Inuyasha is not perfect, but no human can ever be. He is not the man of my dreams, for dreams are sometimes false places of perfection that are never real. Inuyasha is my reality, and he loves me, as I him.

I am content to just be with him. I sometimes feel so amused at Inuyasha's cockiness. When we have guests over, he often tells the little children of how I pined for him and waited for him everyday as he brought the mail. He claims that I waited for him and him only. He has little idea of the falseness of his words…

I will always remember Yoko and all the things he did to me. But they are merely lessons now, and not memories to be cherished. Now that I think of it… he never really did tell me his real name…

I have never told Inuyasha of Yoko. I feel no need to. What's in the past is past. And if Yoko did happen to return to reclaim me, I would choose Inuyasha in a heartbeat.

I probably will never tell Inuyasha of Yoko. I am happy to let him have his way. I am happy to let him think that I had always waited for him when he was a simple mailman.

Why change something when it makes others happy? I do not wish to question it.

I feel so tired now. All these memories and happy thoughts exhaust me. Perhaps it is because of my current condition. I am due within a few months. Or maybe it is because of the way Inuyasha is holding me…

He kisses my temple softly and caresses my arms lightly. I know he loves these moments as much as I. I tilt my head upward to give him one final kiss on the lips, gentle and sweet. Then I cuddle deeper in to his arms and close my eyes.

Inuyasha continues his movements on my arm, which eventually lolls me to sleep. I realize that I would not be happier in any other place. I float softly away in to unconsciousness…

…And dream happily of how I met my husband…


I hope you enjoyed!

I have never written an entire story in first person. Frankly, it's a lot of fun. I feel like I can bring out more emotions!

This fic was based on a short story I read in my English class. It was indeed titled "How I Met My Husband." The plot line is the same, so I take no credit for that. I don't own Inuyasha either.

Please check out my other stories!

Please review! Please Please! I would love some feedback!