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Warning: While this fic is AU set in modern times (more notes at the bottom), it has spoilers for the series itself. Edited, 5/11/09.

. xXx .

It was only a few days after Kyuzo's funeral that Nasami realized that she had practically no photographs of him.

And she came upon them by accident. Absently rummaging through small, decorated shoeboxes to rearrange any knick-knacks she hid to put in her reconstructed apartment; one box contained an abundance of papers. Note cards or letters from her parents and siblings, holiday cards from acquaintances in the office, a few from Kambei that were dated a few weeks before. At the bottom of the box was one 4x6 of her and Kyuzo, taken some time at the open bar at the Firefly Hotel.

Nasami stared at it for a long time. She was leaning on him with her arms around his shoulders, cheek pressed against his temple. They were in semi-formal wear, him in his red shirt and black vest, her in a long sleeve black gown – the dress he loved to see her in; the one that showed off her whole back. Her proximity was oddly close to him since he so valued his personal space in public, but it was either the wine that he had in his hand that eroded his hang-ups, or he was just plainly comfortable in the company of close companions. She remembered that this was not with Hyogo or Ukyo or his other henchmen, but with Shichiroji and Yukino for a night out. The coloured lights behind them were fuzzy and extraordinary compared to the crispness of their outlines.

She never could have taken his picture otherwise. Whenever she tried, he would either duck his face away or ask her not to, with a small glare. The ones that came out relatively well was when he had an unsure, neutral look with her arms around him, making him so out of place. None of those were as honest and comfortable as this one.

It was as if she pushed this out of her memory, as if it never happened. 

Could it have helped the mourning process any better?

She needed to frame it.

Tears shot at her eyes and suddenly she became a weepy mess. Everything hurt.

When Kambei knocked on the door, Nasami was small in the orange glow of the evening light coming through the window. She held out the photograph to him. The older man heaved a long sigh, his only reaction thoughtfulness.

"I'm sorry." She cried, enveloped in his arms in the middle of the room.

"Don't be," he said. "I am, too."

. xXx .

Notes:


- - When Nasami's apartment is completely wrecked by Hyogo and his henchmen (in the timeline, and Samuraiko's fic that matches those events is titled "Union of Jade"), Kyuzo says that he'd help her rebuild and redecorate. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.


- - Other implications of how Kambei really feels about her relationship with Kyuzo are mirrored in Samuraiko's "Tears of Joy, Tears or Sorrow," and my own "Anchor" fic, which is yet to be posted.