The wanderer strolled along the tiny dirt path back to his home. Home. He never used to have one. For more than half his life, he was what they called a 'Rurouni'. A wanderer. Well, not really, he had been quite feared in his time, but that wasn't a subject he liked to discuss. He just wanted to spend the rest of his life peacefully with her. It really wasn't his fault that they all came looking for him. Well, at least he knew she would be patiently waiting for him. That, he was very sure of.
The weather was cool, albeit a little gloomy. The sun had chosen to hide behind some grey clouds that day. And soon, more clouds gathered. The rain came along slightly after the clouds, and it started to fall. It was a slight drizzle at first, barely noticable, but he noticed all the same. His sense were tuned in to the slightest touch, slightest sound. Then, the raindrops grew bigger and turned into a heavy downpour.
That didn't matter much to him, he had always welcomed a downpour once in a while. He stopped and looked around and saw women with their brightly coloured umbrellas teetering down the path, eager to get out of the rain. Very soon, he was the only one left in the rain, his bright red hair contrasting violently with the grey of the atmosphere. He smiled as he felt a raindrop run down his cheek, across his scar. His clothes were getting wet. His bangs, now heavy with rain, stuck to his cheek. His low ponytail, sodden with water clung to his magenta yukata. Magenta, he claimed. Pink, they said.
Usually one would generally dislike the wet, heavy feeling when one gets drenched in the rain. The wanderer on the other hand however, didn't feel much irritation for the rain. Au contraire, he had never felt so refreshed before. He felt as though the rain was washing of his past, cleansing him of his nightmares. He felt as though the rain had given him a new fresh beginning. He felt, for the first time in a very long while, clean.
His thoughts unknowingly wandered to her. She was just like rain to him. She was the one who always cleared him of any doubts he might have. She was the one who gave him strength to carry on. She was something he treasured very much. She was just like rain to him.
He looked up when he heard his name cut through the dull patter of rain hitting the ground. There she was! She was standing under a blue umbrella, waiting for him. She had a pout on her face, unhappy with the now drenched samurai she had in front of her.
He laughed, walked toward her, and gathered her up in his arms.
"KENSHIN! YOU'RE ALL WET! Mouu, you've gotten me wet too!"
His laugh grew louder, his smile widened.