DISCLAIMER: All characters, places and situations in this piece of fiction would not be in existence without the genius of Watsuki Nobuhiro. There is no money being made of this piece of imagination
TIMELINE: Otsu, 1864
SPOILERS: None really. Unless you didn't know Kenshin had a wife. If you didn't know that then uh... surprise!
SYNOPSIS: Tomoe always preferred the quiet moments...
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is now an edited version of my fic. Thankyou to "The Wandering Pen" for your insight... honestly wouldn't have caught the flaw without you! So you see... constructive criticism makes a difference!
ASPECTS OF LOVE: Gratitude
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I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Just before the sun rises he wakes. Like clock-work. At the Kohagi-ya he used to disappear, not to be seen until dawn broke fully over the horizon and the breakfast in his room became cold and stale. The women of the Kohagi-ya always served him first. I had believed that such favouritism had sprung from a sense of fear, yet as each day passed and I watched him enter the room to eat his luke-warm breakfast and drink the cold bitter dregs of his tea without complaint, I came to realize the error of that first impression and of so many others... I soon discovered that I was the only one who knew of his morning ventures, perhaps because I was the only one to ever share his room. So I insisted they left it to me to serve him breakfast.
The look of surprise on his face the first time I had walked into his room carrying a steaming tray stirred in me a strange mixture of emotions that it took a moment until I could walk forward to place the tray before him.
'Thank you' he said his voice laden with gratitude. As though the idea of being served a hot steaming breakfast was never to be expected. That is how such things went each subsequent morning and while others would have gotten used to such treatment his appreciation for such a small act never dimmed.
The kettle steams, calling me back from my memories. Soon he will come through the door. Minutes that feel more like centuries pass and soon I find myself wandering outside. For the first time I realize that I had gotten up very early and the sun is still just peeking over the horizon. Kenshin would not be back until day break. Unwilling to return to the house to eat breakfast alone, I find myself searching for him. I almost do not find him for he is standing amidst the autumn trees, his hair matching the leaves which surround him, obscuring his still form from the casual onlooker.
For a moment I simply watch, but nothing changes. He stands perfectly still and calm, seemingly unaware of my presence. But I know better. He knows I'm here. Slowly, so not to disturb the peace of the morning I walk towards him, my geta crunching softly on the parched grass, his mere presence pulling me towards him, like a moth drawn to the fire. My hands come up and cover his eyes.
'Good morning' I say. I feel the muscles of his face move into a smile. He smiles now; and to know that I am the one that has coaxed it from him warms my heart.
He returns the greeting behind his veiled eyes before pulling my hands away.
'Am I late?' he asks turning to me.
I shake my head.
'What are you doing?' my voice is low for I am ashamed that my curiosity has gotten the best of me. What do you do on these cold mornings?
'Training' he replies and at my confused expression he laughs. 'To keep my senses sharp'
'I see' my hand drops to his waist and rests on the hilt of his katana. 'And do you train with this too?'
His expression becomes blank and withdrawn and I regret asking the question.
'Yes,' he replies, not providing any more. Then he smiles as though catching himself in such a dark expression upset him. I can see the smile is strained and empty. But the emptiness doesn't last long, not in this place which has become our sanctuary. For the warmth in his face is back as pulls me towards him. I want to smile but that momentary emptiness stays with me and I cannot coax it from my face. He seems to understand this in a way no one else has. I lean backwards into his chest and I feel his arms wrap around my waist. His breathing is steady and his heart beat strong and we stand in silence just listening and feeling as the sun rose over head brushing our skin inch by inch until the sky is a brilliant blue.
'Come inside and eat' I say after the long silence. He nods and hesitantly lets me go, but I take his hand and he smiles gratefully.
As I suspect the tea is bitter and over steeped and the rice has gone cold. Still, when his food is finished he turns to me with the same gratitude as every day before.
'Thankyou...'