AUTHORS NOTE: Hi there. Here are some things to keep in mind about this fanfic. Like I said in the summary, most of the scenes and dialogue are recreated from scenes in the Rurouni Kenshin manga (I am not following the OVAs). So yeah, kinda borderline plaigarism, I know. I also have quite a few original scenes in there as well, so please keep that in mind if you will. I also use Japanese honorifics in this fanfic, just an fyi. Anyway, thank you for reading!

AN: (again) The first paragraph of this page is taken directly from the manga.

Excerpts from the Diary of Yukishiro Tomoe

April 4, First Year of the Genji (1864)

Today we received word from Kyoto that Kiyosato Akira has been killed. Though I can hardly believe it, I am filled with regret that I did not stop him from leaving. Now…

Now I can barely breathe. I feel like there's a giant hole in my chest, and it hurts so badly. My heart is gone.

My beloved Akira is dead. Never again will I see him smile, or hear him laugh, or feel his warm hands holding mine. We'll never kiss again. And he will never be my husband.

Did he even know how much I loved him? How much I still love him now?

How did this happen?

April 6

I found this journal a year or so ago when I was sorting out the things we kept in storage. I think it was Mother's. It was among her things, anyway. When I looked, nothing was written in here. But I couldn't bring myself to throw away something that belonged to Mother, even if it was a waste of space. So I put it away in my room for safe-keeping.

But when I found out about Akira-san, I didn't know what to do.

Two days ago, some soldiers came from Kyoto to tell Akira's family about his death. Once they knew, they sent Taku-san, Akira's older brother, to tell me.

"I'm sorry, Tomoe-chan," he told me. His eyes were heavy, and his voice cracked. Taku-san looked as though he was ready to weep at any moment for his lost brother.

What happened next feels like a dream. I left Taku-san alone in that room, when good manners say that I should have stayed with him. When I walked past Enishi, I ignored him. I could barely even recognize my younger brother as I walked by. I just entered my room by myself.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip everything I owned, and break it into a million pieces. I wanted to beat myself against the floor, smash my hand into my mirror, and mix my blood with my tears.

But I didn't.

I didn't even cry as I sat there. In the mirror, I could see that expression. The blank look that's always on my face. I couldn't even look sad.

But despite my looks, I was devastated. My heart was beyond broken, it was shattered. Suddenly, I remembered this diary, and I searched for it. When I found it, I began to write. And today, I wrote again.

I began to write today because I felt as though I was about to break. My sorrow feels like a bubble, one that's about to burst. I had to release the sorrow somehow, so I used the diary again.

I can't talk to Father or Enishi. I'm sure that Father means well. He loves me, and wants to make sure that I'm all right. But how can I tell him about the hole in my chest where my heart used to be?

And Enishi. Oh, Enishi. I love my brother, but if I can't tell Father how I feel, how on earth can I tell him? He's too immature to handle this. He couldn't even handle the engagement announcement. He threw a tantrum and sulked for a week. He flits through emotions so quickly. First he'll be angry, then happy, and then depressed. I know he's only a child, but I can't seem to care about that now.

I feel so tired.

April 10

The funeral was today. And still, I can't bring myself to even cry for my beloved.

What is wrong with me? Why can't I change my face? For years, I've tried so hard to make myself smile. Why does something that come so naturally to others is so hard for me to do? I can't even remember how many times people have asked me why I'm scowling. Or that I'd be prettier if I smiled. I've tried and tried and tried my entire life.

I couldn't even smile when Akira proposed.

He gave me the most beautiful hairpin. Gold, with little red beads. It wasn't extravagant, and maybe even a little plain. But to me, it was perfect.

I was so happy. I could imagine a life ahead of me as Kiyosato Tomoe. Keeping a nice house with Akira, having his children. They would be beautiful, like him.

But no matter how happy I was, I couldn't even smile for him. And Akira, poor Akira, couldn't understand. I couldn't make him understand that even though I didn't look happy, I was still very happy inside.

"If the second son of a samurai cannot make you happy, I will, at least, be known as a warrior of repute."

That's what he told me before he left. He was convinced that if he fought in Kyoto and earned himself honor, then he could make me happy. Never mind that he was a mediocre swordsman.

Akira, why didn't you believe me? I was happy enough! You were perfect, you didn't need to change for me!

April 12

A week has passed, and I still haven't cried. I didn't smile for my love when he was alive, and now I can't cry for him when he's dead. How horrible am I?

If I cried when Akira left, would he have changed his mind? Would he have stayed in Edo?

Is it my fault?

NO!

No no no!

It is not my fault that Akira is dead! Akira didn't die because of me! He was MURDERED! Murdered in cold blood. And for what? What did my love die for?

There is a war in Kyoto. Samurai are gathering in that city to fight for the Shogunate, like my Akira did. They are fighting against a group of rebels, self-proclaimed Inshin Shishi. Men who want to push the Shogun from his power and put the Emperor in control again. But who cares about all that now?

Some Inishin Shishi brute killed my Akira. A monster. A horrible monster in Kyoto destroyed Kiyosato Akira, and Kiyosato Tomoe.

April 15

Before, I was paralyzed in my grief. But now, I'm finding myself alive in anger. I'm constantly imagining a monster cutting down Akira. And I want to cut him back.

I'm finding that hatred is like a drug. When the pain is too much, I slip into my hate, and it calms me down. But strangely, it makes me edgy. I suppose all drugs are like that. When I work in the kitchen, I'll suddenly want to stab someone with my knife. If I'm sweeping the yard, I'll be overcome with the urge to swing the broom into the tree. I always imagine the Monster as my target.

I hate him. And I want him dead.

April 16

Today, I heard Enishi laughing in the yard. I wanted to shake him and slap him. How could anything be funny?

But immediately, I was ashamed of myself. How could I imagine hurting my dear little brother? He has no one else except Father and I, and he doesn't like Father very much. Thankfully, Enishi had no idea what was going on inside of me- my face didn't change expressions. Like always.

I don't know how much longer I can stand this. The pain of my grief, and the hot anger and hatred inside of me.

April 17

I'm leaving.

I realized this today. Father forced me to go out this morning with Enishi to go shopping.

"Go outside and feel the sun, Tomoe," Father said. "It'll do you good."

I walked along the familiar streets today. This was Edo, my city. I've lived my whole life here. But as I walked down the familiar streets, I realized that I don't want to live here anymore. Not without Akira.

In fact, I don't want to live at all without him.

I didn't say anything. I acted as normally as I could in front of Enishi and Father. I couldn't tell them. If I did, they would try to stop me from leaving any way they could.

I love my family, but I can't stay.

I've already packed my things. I'm not taking much. Just a few kimono, Mother's blue shawl, and this diary. I'm probably foolish for bringing my bottle of perfume. But the smell of white plums is my favorite, and perfume is my only vanity.

I almost took the hairpin with me. The one Akira gave me when he proposed. But I couldn't. I can't bear to look at it now. So I left it in the box with my other jewelry.

I'm waiting until midnight before I leave. I've torn a page out of this diary to write a note to Father and Enishi. They'll be angry when they find it. Especially Enishi. But they'll get over it. Maybe they'll even understand. I love them, but I love Akira too.

I'll go to Kyoto. It's a stupid thing to do, but I'll do it. I'll find the monster that killed Akira. And then kill it.

Later that Night

A little before sunset, I walked over to the Kiyosato house to talk with Taku-san. If I'm going to find Akira's killer, I'll need every lead I can get. And the only ones who will know his killer will be those Akira worked with.

"But why do you want to know that, Tomoe-chan?" Taku-san said when I asked him.

"I want to know what my fiancé died for," I said.

"Isn't it enough to know that he died for his country?" Taku-san said. "You should feel better knowing that he died to make you safe, Tomoe-chan."

No, he died because a monster in Kyoto wanted to change the country for his own selfish reasons.

Instead, I said, "Taku-san, please just tell me. Who did Akira work with?"

He was quiet for a few minutes, and then said, "Akira was a member of the Mimawarigumi."

Mimawarigumi.

I can't forget about them.

I bowed to Taku-san and thanked him before I left. I doubt I'll see him again. I debated seeing Akira-san's parents before I left, and decided against it. His parents are grieving as much as I am, and I don't want to disturb them.

I took a different route home, and walked down some streets that I've ignored in the past. I guess I just wanted to say goodbye to the city. But as I wandered down an unfamiliar neighborhood, I stopped in front of a kenjutsu dojo. There was a man entering the dojo with a little girl, no older than five. When she saw me, the girl smiled and waved.

I don't know why I remembered that just now. Or why I felt so compelled to write it down.

Midnight will be in a few hours. I'll pack this diary, and kiss my father and brother goodnight. Maybe I'll see them again someday.