There was a light rapping at the door.

She opened her eyes and slowly peered through the wraps that surrounded her forehead. Through the bandaging, she could see a figure in the doorway, hand on his hip, hair pulled to the side. The amber sheen stood out perfectly.

'Oh Kenshin,' she sighed. She pulled the covers over her head and turned away. The floor was cold. She could feel every curve and bump of the uneven floor. The mat did nothing to ease her aches. She heard the brushing of sandals against the wood now and the shutting of the door. He was coming closer.

'Kenshin,' she thought.

There was a rustling of cloth and then a final thump. Not wanting to look over, she pulled the covers tighter around her body, clenching it fiercely. Why was he so insistent upon taking matters into his own hands. She was alright. She was, she kept telling him so and he wouldn't believe her. She scrunched her eyebrows and growled in pain as it slowly peeled away some of the bandaging.

"Kaoru," came the low whisper beside her. A hand moved slowly over her body and then to her forehead. "Let me see." He bent close to her face, his hands brushing the wrinkles out of her brow. With a tender hand, he smoothed the bandage, still somewhat discolored, and wrapped it snuggly around her head.

"Why won't you speak to me?" she heard him whisper, each word slowly eating at her. The sadness was clearly there. He was hurt and she was inflicting the pain. Oh so stubborn I am, she thought. To swallow one's pride was far beyond her at that moment. However, this did not deter him. She heard another sound, the sound of rushing water hitting ceramic. A low rumble emitted from Kaoru's stomach, having both him and her take notice. He quickly sat up, wrapped his robe tightly and left the room to Kaoru and the cup of tea beside her.

She watched the cup of tea, slowly teasing her with its light pulls of steam. The smell of herbs danced towards her, making her salivate. He had used her favorite tea, the last of a handful of leaves that she had collected earlier in the year, when it was still light out for most of the day. The warmth of the tea soon drew her closer to the darkness of the room and the pounding of the night air outside. Soon she would need to prepare some sort of fire or she would surely feel the effects later that night. It was far too cold to rely on wool socks and a robe. The tea hissed at her. She pushed the plate away, taking in the rumble it made across the wood floor.

Pounding feet alerted her towards the screen again. He was back. His demeanor, sweaty and discombobulated, was overshadowed by the tray in his hands. She sat up and turned her eyes on the platters of food before her. Bowls of Miso, Udon, and thick batches of soba soon enticed her stomach to respond almost uncontrollably. A slow smile soon sneaked its way onto her face and it was responded with another whirlwind of action. He pushed the tray towards her, holding up one option after another. The spoon lay in one hand, while a handful of wooden chopsticks were being suffocated in the other.

"Don't be mad," he said, his eyes moving towards hers in an act of desperation. He held up the bow l of miso to her lips but was surprised when he met a hand against his.

"I'll take it," she responded.

The sweat and panic soon faded and he melted into her words. However his gaze soon brought pain as she clutched the side of her head, dropping the miso in the process. She could feel the heat of the liquid seeping into her robe. The bowl rolled away passed the two, with one hand finding another in a confusion of pain and worry. They both looked up at each other.

"Kenshin," she whispered back, "I'm in pain." Grabbing his hand, she pulled it towards her forehead.

"Help me."