There was an old bridge not far from the dojo, nothing very special about it, just built to serve its purpose of providing a means over the river. But this bridge, this old, rickety, supposedly insignificant bridge held a special place in Kamiya Kaoru's heart.
She remembers one warm spring afternoon, so long ago it seems, when she had not been long in the association of a strange, red-haired rurouni, a man she knew by then to have once been the legendary Hitokiri Battousai, a man she knew by then to be one of the kindest, and most gentle-hearted people she had ever met. And even more, he was a man she felt drawn to without explanation or reason, so much so that despite his wandering nature, she could not bear to see him leave.
She remembers an indigo-blue ribbon, the delicate way he held the silken fabric between his fingers, his expression of flummoxed astonishment, the tender look in his eyes.
Not far from that small bridge was a small glen, sheltered away by an overgrowth of trees where one night, she had clung to the departing back of the same man, so afraid to let him so, so afraid he would never return to her if she did.
She remembers her tears, the sound of her sobbing hanging in the air, her rampart fears, the feeling of his strong arms around her as he held her for the first time.
There was another year, the same bridge as they stood overlooking the waters of the river, silent and content with the other's company. She would never remember who had spoken first, but there was something magic about that evening that allowed them to shed their habitual shy inhibitions. They started out slow, making awkward small-talk over trivial matters- the good weather and repairs needing to be done at the dojo- ascending through the weaves of conversation into more serious matters, contemplation of his past, her past, uncertain questions about his future, her future…if it could be their future.
She stared, flabbergasted and shocked, at the man beside her. It took extreme effort to get her mouth working enough to form coherent speech. "Wh-what did you just say?"
His eyes were shielded by his fridge of fiery red hair, his fists clenching into the railing as he swallowed audibly, nervously beginning again, "I said…that I wonder if it could be our future…together, Kaoru-dono."
"You...mean…" Hope filled her eyes…
"Hai…I'm saying I love you, Kaoru..."
Her joy she could not express with words, but her joyful tears and exuberant embrace gave him all the answers he needed.
She remembers his smile, hesitant and shy, as he slowly ducked his head. She remembers fumbling inexperience overshadowed by passion and joy as their lips met gently and chastely in their first kiss.
The glen, too, saw them together again. She remembers that night. A warm, spring night, the sweet perfume of the blossoming jasmine, passion, love, the gentleness of his touch. The first time they made love together.
The sun had begun its descent on the horizon, warming their naked bodies in the dying amber glow. He held her close, the two of them lying together comfortably upon his outstretched gi and the dewy grass.
His lips against her ear, the warm brush of his breath against her skin. "Kaoru, koishii, will you marry me?"
It is often insignificant, overlooked places that stir the greatest of nostalgia, and bring back our greatest, and dearest, memories. Kaoru remembers, and she will never forget.