Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Note: To Broomclosetkink and S J Smith, because.
The Lessons That We Learn
She sees him again a few nights later; there is no mistaking that red hair. This time, he is the one walking in front of her. His shoulders are slumped; his steps are slow, heavy… Worried, Kaoru quickens her pace to catch up with him. He hears her, and turns to face her before she can call his name. She doesn't miss how his hand grips the hilt of his katana, but his face is hidden in shadows. The air bristles around him, disturbed by ki. He carries himself like a wounded animal, she realizes. Like a wounded animal that would rather escape the world to nurse its wounds, but that will turn vicious if cornered. This is what his ki feels like. Like that of a wounded animal. All the more deadly for his pain.
Well, too late to turn back, she thinks. He has heard her, is looking at her expectantly, and Kaoru knows that she's been staring.
"Ah… Good evening, Kenshin," she starts. "I thought it was you…"
He nods in return but says nothing.
"Are you okay?" No point in wasting time in small talk – his ki warns her, he is pained, angry, scared, sick… deadly.
Kaoru cannot see his eyes. For once, she is glad for the shadows that surround them.
"Yes," he finally says, barely above a murmur. He seems to shake himself then, stands a little bit straighter, finally lets go of his sword. The darkness is still there, she can tell. He has just swallowed it, tucked it into some little corner of his heart, quickly enough that Kaoru knows that he has done so many times before. She cautiously steps forward, her own ki brushing against his. Nothing. He's swallowed that darkness, leaving nothing in its wake… But he is whispering again, "Forgive me, I…"
"It's still bleeding?" she doesn't let him finish. The scene feels awfully familiar to him; Kaoru has raised her lantern to see him better and is once again extending her hand towards his cheek and his most recent wound, concerned. He takes a small step back before she can touch it.
"Yes," he answers, his own fingers gently probing the still-bleeding cut. "It did reopen a couple of times. It's nothing though."
"Maybe you should have a doctor stitch it up…" Kaoru doesn't bother with pretence when it comes to others – her thoughts and feelings are painted clearly on her face. There is still worry whirling in her eyes, and she is clearly not convinced.
It's unnerving how she can read him, how she cares for this man she barely knows. Her blatant concern for him catches him off guard. She shouldn't bother; really, he is only a bloody sword, carving a bloody path to a new era. A mean to an end, for the people of Japan. This litany lulls him to sleep every night.
"No, really, it's nothing," Kenshin even tries smiling this time, to emphasize his words, and quickly changes the subject. He is nothing but a sword. "What has you out at this hour, Kaoru-dono?"
She gives him a look, clearly doubting his words, but has the grace to let it go, and for that he is grateful. Several black envelopes have come since he first talked to her and he has spent most nights since like this present one: hunting, then staggering back to the inn. Discussing more blood, with Kaoru-dono of all people, is beyond him, not when he can feel it drying under his nails, not when its smell is everywhere. But Kaoru simply resumes walking and he falls into step with her.
"I teach classes at the Maekawa dojo," she answers. "It's a bit far from here and we finish late, so I often end up getting home after dark."
"They never walk you back?"
"They've offered to several times, and they would if I asked, but there really is no need to. I can take care of myself, like you've seen yourself," she smiles at his nod before continuing, thrilled that he would acknowledge her abilities so easily. "Besides, the only people that bother me are drunk thugs like the ones you saw, and I can certainly deal with those. The more skilled fighters are all busy fighting this war; they wouldn't waste their time on me."
She waves her hand as she mentions the war, her opinion of it clear. Somehow, Kenshin cannot say he is surprised. "You don't approve of this war," he says, knowing he is merely stating a fact.
"Of course not! People die by the hundreds, how could anyone approve of that?"
"And yet you teach kenjutsu…"
And that was clearly one too many words, because she stops dead in her tracks and levels him with a heated glare. He feels like he's gone from wounded predator to cowering pup, and instinctively recoils.
"I teach Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, the Sword that protects Life, as my father created it. He believed that swords should be used not to kill, but to protect. We never take lives."
Something stirs inside of Kenshin at her words, something he cannot quite identify. A memory of something he had dreamed of what felt like a long, long time ago. The Sword that protects Life… It evokes summer days, the buzz of cicadas, children's laughter… But the vision is gone before he has time to grasp it. This is the night of Kyoto at war, a world away from that peaceful image, and Kenshin has learned not to dream his life away.
"A sword is a weapon," he replies after a moment, looking down at his feet as he recites the words. "Kenjutsu is the art of killing. No matter how you disguise it, that is the truth of it. The only truth of it. This is what my master taught me, and I believe he is right, but…", but he is not fighting this war for himself, "what you describe, utopic as it is…", how beautiful would it be, a peaceful era, where swords would be swung only to protect? "However this war ends, I wish it can come true." Like an endless summer day…
"You do?" Kaoru is sceptical, but then again, she, and her father before her, has been called a naïve fool so many times…
"Yes." Kenshin tries smiling again, and this time it comes to him a little more easily. Her thanks are heartfelt, and she gives him one of her own smiles in appreciation before they resume walking.
We have similar dreams, after all… Dreams of peace, even if they have vastly different ways to go about them. He may be fighting to bring down an entire government, he knows that, in the end, it will be the little things, the ones that happen on a much smaller scale, like Kaoru spreading dreams a peace and life, to make his ideal new era real.
She hears him sigh and senses him relax, ever so slightly. His ki does not feel like that of a cornered predator anymore, nor it is completely blank. It is… calm. Soothed, and that is more than she hoped to accomplish when she first called his name. When they reach the gate of the dojo, she asks again if he needs any help for his wound. He refuses politely, bids her good night, and continues on to the inn.
It is only once in his room, feeling more at peace than he has in months, that Kenshin realizes that his cheek has stopped bleeding.
They see each other often after that, at night on her way back from the Maekawa dojo or on the riverbank during the day. Kaoru tells him many stories from her childhood – that she was actually born in Edo, but her father learned kenjutsu in Kyoto and returned there to open his own dojo –, from growing up in the capital and learning the way of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu from her father.
Kenshin is quiet and reserved at first. But he listens to her ramble about kenjutsu, the weather, an upcoming festival, anything, and never calls her a foolish woman for it, which is more than Kaoru can say about most people. He gives her his opinion when prompted, and she is starting to put the pieces together. He is not from Kyoto – a given, since he doesn't use the Kyoto dialect when he speaks – and only here because of the war – imperialist, she guesses, if his idealistic views, so close to her own, in a way, are anything to go by. He never talks about it, and always eludes the subject when she brings it up – he's seen the ugliness of it then, blood and death…
Still, as days pass, Kenshin gradually opens and starts sharing some stories of his own – bits and pieces and quirks of people he has met at first, then stories about himself, mostly revolving around his master. Kaoru can just picture him: a monster of a man, up on his lonely mountain – Kenshin swears he is not even joking. She can't suppress her chuckles.
She laughs easily. His cheek has stopped bleeding. He may not say much, but he listens intently.
And learns.
