Okay, This is happened to be a tad bit more depressing than I had originally planned out sooooo... um, if you feel the need for anti-depressants, click out?
Disclaimer: I do not own Kenshi. Never have, maybe one day... Who am I kidding?
Kaoru has learned to live without him right next to her (and it is not easy, and will she will not pretend it is but she's man
Kaoru has learned to live without him right next to her (and it is not easy, and will she will not pretend it is but she's managing). And she is only human, so there is no getting over that tiny twang that he chose the rest of the world over her and himself and all they could have been and never will be now. But she knows, has always known, that that is the choice he would have made in the end, but it is a choice all the same and she finds it unlikely that she will ever entirely forgive him but she forgives him enough.
Sometimes, when he's not there, she lies awake and just stares at nothing that's maybe something and remembers what Kenshin had told her about Tomoe (and she knows that cover her ears will not help because those voices of doubt will come back to her and there's just no way to block them out because) - she wonders if Tomoe would have been able to keep Kenshin at home, safe. And she's not entirely unused to the empty space that's only filled with desire right next to her because he isn't here again tonight, not here for many nights and all she can do is watch the time tick by without Kenshin (and she wonders how many times is it possible for a heart to break but maybe that's not what her heart is doing and all that's happening is a bit is being chipped away by time and life and loneliness and wonders if it would just be less painful for her heart to explode all at once).
Tomoe was strong and kind and she turned Kenshin away from being an assassin, a tool while she, Kaoru, did nothing and she tosses and turns and knows this will be another fitful night because Kenshin is not here and he's still a wanderer and she just wasn't good enough. It is a decadent wish, but she cannot help it flitting into her minds all the same, cannot help but want Kenshin to leave all of this behind for her, but he won't, can't, and it is a wish that she will never verbalize (so she doesn't, just watches as the man she loves drives himself into despair even more and she alter reflects if that wasn't the worst mistake she'd ever made during their marriage). She finds that she is not Tomoe and that is something that she will not forgive herself for.
What Kaoru can do, what she does do, is wait. She waits and waits and waits, everyday, goes down to the harbour and waits for the achingly familiar sight of red hair (and she knows she will wait until the day she dies and it is a despotic future but, in a twisted way, a hopeful one). She's not all that tall, so she struggles to peek over the top of bald skulls, and thick mops of hair in every shade. Sometimes she sees red, but it's not him, almost never him and she's long ago learned not to get carried away the next time she sees that garish hair color. And when the last boat drifts away, far over the darkened horizon, she flits away, like a ghost, back to her home, feet light and quick so as to not wake anyone up at the dojo. Another day of disappointment, regret (and whywhywhy were these feelings becoming a permanent part of her and she forgets what it was like before when there was a past too instead of just a maybe future).
But this time, it really is him and she can't help the near scream that escapes her lips in pure joy as she calls his name and he lifts his head and smiles and it really is him! For a moment she can't breathe (and this, she realizes, is the weight of happiness and she's crushed by it, torn to pieces until there's nothing left of her but this piercing feeling that she only vaguely recalls).
"Kenshin! Kenshin!," she sobs, clinging to him (like she used to back then, like she always will) and she's terrified that because he seems so weak and - and human and not like the strong warrior she's always known (and this is the passage of time and this is their relationship and she forgets to care about that because this is Kenshin). and he's there, smiling back at her, reassuring her that he's fine, she's fine, they're all fine (like he always has, like he always will) and she smiles because he's back again, for however long, he's back and that's all she can hope for, that he'll always come back to her in the end. This time, when the boat leaves, they both walk back home.
When she sees the marks of his illness, she's terrified at first, not for herself, but for him and she understands the cruelties of time to its' maximum extent. When he makes to push her away, she does not let go, not this time, because she does not care, because there is no world without Kenshin and if he dies then she'll be all alone again and there will be no endto that loneliness. So she choses death over losing him and she does not regret that choice.
Tonight, there is more than just the hard wood and silent stars, and she tries to hold on to this feeling, like she does with every other feeling that Kenshin has inspired in her and she will never let it go (for she's afraid of what will happen if she does). Between kisses and murmurs, there is only the delicate silence that holds all things in life together. For the first time, night does not seem so forlorn to Kaoru.
When she wakes up, life is different because Kenshin is back home and for the first time in months, she cooks breakfast, even though she knows her food pales in comparison to Kenshin's. She wants to show him: she's alright (she isn't), he doesn't need to worry about her (but she wishes he would) and he can go back to whatever he was doing (please stay). There are omelets and bread and all the things she forgotten the taste of and he smiles when he sees that Yahiko and Sano are there, too.
Kaoru dresses up in one of her best kimonos and drags Kenshin into town, like she used to when she was (much more carefree) younger. For a moment, she can't believe that this is the town, with all the bustling people and crying and laughter and - and, had she missed all of this? (she's forgotten how to live) It's a nice, clear day out, with just enough of a breeze to ruffle her hair and lick her skin. Their fingers are twined together, she's surprised to find out (inseparable) and she smiles a bit because she'd been waiting for so long and this is him beside her and she doesn't care that it won't last forever because it happened and, even if she doesn't remember everything today, this moment still happened and maybe that's enough, just the feelings of this time (a time when they transcended all else and existed only for each other).
It's a glimmer of hope and nothing else, but she has nothing else so she clings to that and she smiles and laughs (and cries, just a little bit, cries). He returns everything and, for a moment, she despises herself for not entirely forgiving him because he's just so selfless and he wanted to save the world and here she was, chaining him down.
That day, the little things mattered. like when he held the chair back for her, waiting for her to slide in before he seated himself. Like when he gave her some of the food off his plate and offered to pay for lunch. Little things that make up her world, their world because, in the end, there will be no fancy reception, no - no fantastical dreams come true or three wishes because the real world doesn't grant those kinds of things, but they take what they can get and it is all they can get and live with it (even if it's just to make the edges seem a bit softer). Because, in the real world, it is just him and her and what they mean to each other and when he lets a bowl hit him in the back of his head so it wouldn't hurt her, she stifles a laugh because, he hasn't forgotten how to be Kenshin.
When he leaves two months later she watches him board the ship (and knows that there is nothing she will be able to do, knows with chilling certainty that he will die for this world and, a little acerbically, notes that he will never be remembered by anyone else but her). His hair, the very crimson color that he hated, does not fade out within the crowd, even if he's shorter than most of the other males here, but bobs up and down, in the rhythm of his steps. She does not allow her tears to fall until he's well out of view because she has never been weak in front of him, never made him regret his decisions, and does not care to start now, so when the last ship falls over the horizon, she lets her tears slip out, one after the other until there is no end in sight.
He is not there when Kenji is born. She lies on her back, covered in sweat, the rest of the world coming in and out of focus but all that matters is the soft weight on top of her. She knew, instinctively, that he would have red hair just like his father, but that would be the end of all similarities between them. Before the darkness consumed her vision, she handed the baby over to Megumi and hoped that, somehow, Kenshin would come home, that this baby would be his reason to stay home, and knew that she was delirious from the pain of childbirth.
She watches him grow. Even as a toddler, he has above average intelligence and she finds herself unable to keep up with him. And he smiles at her, for her and gives her a reason to drag herself out of bed every morning. And she cannot lose this thing, this child that is both her's and Kenshin's and she's not sure if he hears or not at night when she sits next to his figure and whispers for him not to leave her (and it is a selfish wish but a desperate one nonetheless) and she cries because it is inevitable and she's a bit older and wiser than she was at seventeen and does not delude herself.
When he first meets Kenshin, he does not know who this man is and cries, running to her. Kaoru sees the pain on Kenshin's face that he covers with a smile and the thoughts that logic themselves in his mind and it's all right, he says because he expected nothing more. Because she's Kaoru, she sees past that and talks to Kenji and tries to convince him but it is not until he is years older that he believes her. And it is then that he starts to hate the older man. But that is not now, and later on, after what will feel like eons, she will look back and she will laugh because, for a raindrop of a moment, they were a family.
She teaches Kenji as well as she can and watches in horror as it is not enough, because he knows about his dad and is nothing like his dad and wants that power. Kaoru does nothing again but watch from the shadows (stupidstupidstupid) and blinks back the tears as a ten year old Kenji throws down his sword, already bored with what she has been teaching him and he doesn't care, isn't interested in her tears and she feels again that black hole and the world is too big for her (and she knows with uncanny certainty that he will leave her much sooner than she expected). But not today, and every day that he is here is a tiny victory to her and he smiles at her over dinner and makes her laugh a tiny bit and he cares about her, really cares and he's a good boy (and Kaoru forgives him).
She spars with him one day and is taken back to the first time she'd ever met Kenshin, out on the misty morning streets and she told him to stay that time too because it was a big dojo and there were too many spare rooms. The red hair suddenly becomes impossibly tangled and he has large, violet eyes and - and there are too many memories that have happened and will never happen and she cannot forget. Faintly, she hears her son's worried voice hovering above her. And she's younger now, floating in this dream and they're all here, Sano, Megumi, Yahiko, Kenshin. Back when they saved the world together instead of going about it by themselves, when they had all thought they would stay this way forever (okay, maybe not Kenshin) and there was nothing beyond this "now". It was a cherry blossom party and the petals were floating to the ground in a never ending storm. And it wasn't a dream but a vague remembrance and she didn't want to leave. Never, ever, ever.
(but, at some point or another, all dreams end and her's had faded a long time ago)
The next time she wakes up, Kenji is gone and Yahiko is sitting by her side, looking dejected. She does not burst into hysterics because she cannot and because he is their son and he will be fine and her breath hitches and she hopes that he will come back one day for her (because she's tired of being left behind, forgotten and she's not useless). That night, there is no one in the house again; her boys are gone and she doesn't know when they'll be back... if they'll be back.
That night, without her red haired son to distract her, she ponders the thought that at one point or another, she will be all that's left and she wonders if Kenshin is still alive or how she would know if he was dead. For a brief second, she wonders if she should leave to find out where Kenshin is but then the thought flits away because what if he came home and found out that she wasn't there (and she's chained). Laughter starts bubbling up in her, hysterically and she doesn't know how to stop it and thinks that she's insane with this much space in her life and why could she hear the stars talking again? There is no Kenshin to hold her tonight and no Kenji that she must smile for. There is only her and this strange sense of chained freedom that hurtshurtshurts and she can't break away.
She lays in bed, day after day, her only visitors Megumi and Yahiko. They are both concerned; she can see it in their movements. When Megumi tells her she doesn't have much longer to live, she only wishes that she could see Kenshin one more time before she dies. No, actually, she also wishes that she could die before Kenshin and she never claimed to be perfect (because she's known for too long she isn't and her life scars are a testimony to that fact). Yes, she is dying and she cannot bring herself to be upset over the fact because there is nothing there to be upset about. As she looks up, it's a bright day and a sunny day and she morbidly wonders what her funeral will be like. Will people be there and cry for her? Will it be grand or small?
Perhaps, the most terrifying thought is that her two men would come home without her here to welcome them and she wonders what will happen then. How will Kenshin even know she's dead? But that's wrong, she knows, has known for all of eternity: it is Kenshin who will die first and he will find his peace in death and all those voices of the dead and dying will finally leave him alone and there will be no one to worry about in death. She cannot begrudge him that, will not because she has never shared a fraction of the pain that he has. So she sleeps and waits and somehow knows that she will know when Kenshin goes - comes - comes back to her. Besides, she's Kaoru and does not believe herself to be capable of anything else.
She forgets what the busy streets look like and forgets that there was a time apart from this because memory is human and can fail. But when she starts forgetting the shade of Kenji's hair and the color of his eyes, she calls for Yahiko and begs him to bring her son back (and Yahiko - Yahiko who is Brother, Family, Friend - Yahiko who does not refuse - she loves him). So she watches him smile down at her and wonders how she missed him growing up and - and he pressed a cool hand against her forehead and tells her to sleep so she does because he somehow became the one in charge and she trusts him with everything. When Megumi comes back the next morning, she is surprisingly calmer because she knows that Yahiko will bring one of them home and Megumi surprises her. She says Sano has gone looking for Kenshin and Kaoru's eyes fill with tears because she is and isn't alone as she once believed (because these are her friends, but they are not Kenshin and will never be Kenshin and she needs Kenshin more than she needs them but she loves them, too).
It is a week later that she wakes up and something pulls her out of her bed for the first time in months. She's so weak that it hurts to stand but she must because she knows that Kenshin is here and she needs to go and meet him and every step she takes is an agony for her already fragile body but she does not care, cannot care because this is what she has been waiting for for years (and dying a little inside everyday for). Her steps are stumbling, harried because - because this is the last time they'll ever meet, isn't it? And she knows this and acknowledges it in the back of her head. After that, if there is a Heaven or Hell, he will surely be with Tomoe and she does not hold a grudge against him for that, will never (because she's understood for far too long and forgiven for far too long to start doing otherwise now). And he will always be Kenshin, that man who tried to save everyone around him by any means possible, the man she fell in love with and a love that wasn't really unrequited but not returned in the same way either because he is Kenshin and Tomoe was the only one to change him in such a way.
And there she sees him, in that little garden and thinks that maybe he loves her more than she realizes because he cam all this way for her. When he falls, she catches him, this time (the first and last of a maybe nothing that is more than something) and holds him. She is not Tomoe but she is Kaoru and she can give him this so she does, without complaint. Holds him close and tight and warm and sees that his scars have faded and she wants to cry because he's going to leave her as soon as he's finished repenting, holds him tight and close because this is it and it will never be enough, holds him because she's forgotten how to be Kaoru and does not know what Kaoru would do. And - oh gods - she can feel his body weaken in her arms and tries to hold on tighter but she couldn't, wasn't enough. In a desperate attempt, she talks about the cherry blossom parties she's been having dreams of. Talks until her voice blends in with the movements of the brook and the winds, until it fades out and all that's left is the cry of Kenshin on her lips (because nothing could have prepared her for how painful this moment would be).
They bury him in a week and the dojo is busier in death than it ever was in life. It seems like everyone was there. People she's never met come to say they are sorry (and this is the first glimmer of hope that he will not be forgotten by the rest of the world) and she takes their food and shows them in because that is what she is supposed to do and it is an awkward few minutes because no one knows what to say so she finally shows them the way out again. The people from the old days are there too (when they were young and saving the world did not seem impossible), and she is grateful. Yahiko is everywhere all at once and Kenji following him. Mother and son rush to greet each other but, she notices that Kenji is not sad and does not blame him for never knowing his father.
And, yet, when she goes to bed every night, she cannot help but feel that expectancy that someday, Kenshin would get off the boat and they would meet each other again. But (she is realistic) that will not happen and the murmur of the night is louder then ever and loneliness starts to feel familiar.
She does not cry at the funeral because she died a long time ago and it isn't just him being buried because he took everything that was her a long time ago.
Kenji does not leave this time and she's thankful for his company but there is nothing they have in common in this area (the boy who was betrayed by his father and the woman who gave up her life for that same man). He sits at the dinner table, silent, worried because the woman sitting across from him is an empty shell and he has no idea how to bring her back. For a moment, he curses the Rurouni because he was supposed to save people and he couldn't save Kaoru. He does most of the chores, even though he never was much of a cook (got it from his mother) and calls Yahiko to stay at the dojo because, even with two people, there's too much space and he can't get rid of the feeling that his father is still there, somehow.
And he is. Kaoru sees him in every open door, in the shades of the laundry and it wears her out because it's just not him and she doesn't know how to live without the hope that he will come back to her someday. And he never will now and she has to wait until she dies to meet up with him, but she's not even sure of that. She supposes that, at this point, if there is an afterlife, he's met up with Tomoe and is happy. How could he not be? There was no one to save in death, although she was pretty sure that he, being Kenshin, would try. She wonders why the world hasn't stopped because Kenshin - Kenshin who kept the Earth turning - Kenshin who was the light of the stars and the breeze of the ocean - Kenshin was gone and no one could save him, least of all her.
Kenji wakes up the next morning and when Megumi comes over, she drags him away and says that his mother does not have that much time to leave. He understands and promises to stay and does because he will not break her heart like his father did. She gets more feeble as he watches and, sometimes, all that comes out of her mouth are feeble mumbles of "Kenshin". She gets more and more tired and wan although from grief or her illness he cannot tell. Yahiko is with him too following him and helping out with whatever he can (because Kaoru is Family and he will never forget Family, not like Kenshin did). And there is so much bitterness because they weren't important enough for Kenshin - he is not Father - to stay behind. When the cherry blossoms bloom, his mother smiles for the first time in months. And Kenji - Kenji, he smiles, too and brings her outside. When she tells him she wants a cherry blossom party, he does not ask why, doesn't care because she wants it (and that is reason enough for him).
This part is different from the one she had planned in her mind because there is no unruly red hair here, just the tame, combed strands of her son. Sano and Yahiko are the ones who cook instead of Kenshin and the swordsman's name does not come up at all. The pale pink rain falls slowly, steadily and coats the ground in a slick carpet and tangles in everyone's hair. She smiles down into her cup of sake and sees another's reflection in stead of her own. The smiles that day are tentative but they are smiles nonetheless and that is enough for a small glimmer. She thinks back to that day with the fireflies, when she begged him to stay and knew he wouldn't because he is (Hero) Kenshin and his job is to save the world and she's known that for forever and forgiven him without an apology.
"You know, my parents used to live here," he tells a little red headed female with large amethyst eyes. And her mouth opens in a little "o" of surprise. "My father was a war hero and my mother a swordsman - woman, I mean, woman. Most of the times, my father was traveling the world so I never really knew him."
She clings to him just a bit more tightly; it's one of those days where you can see the glowing green of every single firefly perfectly as they illuminate the soft pink of cherry blossoms that have yet to bloom. And here they are, daughter and father, in the little clearing in front of the not so empty dojo and he holds her a bit tighter (and does not try to unremember that mild afternoon when they all sat here celebrating a life and awaiting a death). He clings tighter because no one ever did that for him and, years after, he does not hate either of them; the feeling coursing through him is pity and regret because he's that much older now and that much wiser and he's met all those people around the world who came to say good-bye to two people who had long before faded.
"Yes. And if either of them were here right now, they'd throw a fit because it's nearly midnight and Ayame-chan still has to get to sleep," a lilting feminine voice sounded from behind them.
Kenji smirks a bit and nudges Ayame back into the house before turning to his wife. "It's true," he tells Natsumi. "They really did live here, but they both died when I was a teenager."
She smiles because she, like a woman long before her, understands and accepts. "I know." The brunette places her small palm over his larger one, light, fragile - he can pull away at any moment. He doesn't.
It is an eon later that he speaks. "I want to get married." It comes out quiet, hesitant and full of not quite forgotten memories. "But, if I end up like him..." The red haired man trails off.
"You won't. You're to afraid." It is not eloquent but succinct and brutally honest, but it is the truth he has been waiting to hear.
He shifts to look at her. "I watched my mother die waiting for him - waiting for a man who wasn't ready - who never should have married her."
She does not reply, but does not remove her hand from its placement either: she has made her decision a long time ago and is now waiting for him.
"But..."
"I won't let you leave."
"I know."
"We'll have to write up a guest list... and you're buying the ring."
"Huh? Why do we need a guest list and - and rings?"
Her eyes flash and she smacks him on the head. "Because if we're finally having a wedding after five years, then it's going to happen MY way."
(That is answer enough.)
Did ant of that make sense. I dunno. It made more or less sense to me. I was really annoyed with that part when Kenji was born. I must have re-written that three times. AUGH! I HATE EDITING. Yea. Review! I will be happy and give cookies and Twizzlers.