Author's Note: The following is a fan based story. All profits and ownership are for the creator.
This story is rated for a Mature audience due to graphic violence, adult themes, and sexual situations in later chapters. The audience has been warned and if offense occurs, at this point, this author does not care.
1st Revision Beta
Courteously, by Kingswallow
2nd Revision Beta
Courteously, by Scarred Sword Heart
Much appreciation to the both of you.
Prologue
It was a gift from her husband: a simple comb, but the material was pure ivory, and the craftsmanship was so detailed that the jasmine blossom it depicted looked as delicate as a real flower. It looked so lovely that she was certain it came from the Continent. Where he had gotten the money for it, she didn't know. Most of their income came from their son, Kenji, now. At their age, it wasn't that surprising. Fifty today, but with this comb she felt twenty again.
This feeling was further set in when she read the haiku with it. She giggled reading his sloppy handwriting. His arthritic hands had only made it worse.
'This one made a wish.
The scent of jasmine is mine.
Still so unworthy.'
What a horrid poem! It did make her reflect, though. Or maybe that was her age, again. She had only been seventeen the day she met him. That year was so crazy. It was hard for her to believe that it all had only been a year. That one year had held enough adventure for a lifetime, but it hadn't been her first adventure. It certainly wasn't her last.
Her husband referred to that year as the year he caught the scent of jasmine. Romantic to the end. She had never told him how, for her, it was the only year she didn't smell jasmine. There was no way to she could figure out a how to say it without causing him guilt, and worse, she never meant it to be a bad thing. She had her own affection for an angelic scent that had led her Kenshin to her: That magnificently sweet smell of white plum blossom.
"This unworthy one has finished breakfast," came the soothing voice from the other side of the shoji. "Whenever you are ready, you should come enjoy yourself. That you should."
"Sorry, I was just thinking."
"May this unworthy one ask of what?" The amusement in his voice was ever-present. He had left her birthday present on her clothing chest and was eager to note any reaction to it.
"The smell of angels," she said with a happy yet wistful sigh.
"Oro?"
She would let him know how much she appreciated his gift. She finished combing out her muted grey hair and pinned it up into the more elegant hairstyle she had recently been sporting. Her hair had thinned a little too much to keep with the ponytail of her youth, but it still looked nice in a braided little bun - even more so now with the new comb in it.
"Kenshin, do you know what it means when you smell jasmine?"
She stood, walked over to the shoji, and opened it.
Her husband was kneeling at the door, looking up at her with soft, lavender eyes, filled with quiet happiness. "In Hanakotoba, the jasmine flower symbolizes the best of kindness and grace. One who smells of jasmine is one who would befriend the lowliest of retches and inspire happiness with their grace. It is said that when you are loved by one who smells of jasmine, their love will follow you everywhere.
"This unworthy one remembers well how the smell of jasmine was ever-present when given love from sweet Kaoru."
He could still make her blush. She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips before gently helping him up from his knees.
"You told me once how you first smelled jasmine when I loaned you my favourite indigo ribbon," she started as the couple made their way to the kitchen. "Did I ever tell you about when I first smelled jasmine?"
"This unworthy one believes you had said it was your mother's smell. That it was."
Of course, she had already told him. They were over thirty years married. He knew everything about her. Everything.
