Alpha and Omega

Notes: I was immensely happy to get all of your reviews; they made me so happy! I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

I would like to note that I am not going to use Kaoru's birth date from the Profiles published in the in US (June, 1862), but rather, move it up one year. Hence, this Kaoru was born in June of 1861 (this would have her turning 17 a little bit after Kenshin's final battle with Shishio). The only reason for this is to give me more time to work with. 

This is kind of an awkward chapter; I hope you'll bear with me for a little bit so we can get into the meat and potatoes of the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. And as a warning, a small amount of magical realism will be used throughout this story...deal with it.

Chapter One: great big mystery.

Koshijirou slept with Kaoru, cuddling the infant to his chest like he imagined Keiko would have done, like his mother had done with his younger sister.

They were both gone now; his mother had become ill five years ago, and his sister had cared for her and caught the disease as well. He had no family left; Keiko, too, had been alone.

What would happen to Kaoru if he died?

He resolved then that he wouldn't die, not until she was good and settled down with a nice husband and a million kids. Already he had decided that her husband had to be strong, had to be able to stand up to him, had to use swords. He would have to be worthy of his little Kao-chan, and Koshijirou would make sure of that.

Kaoru snuffled in her sleep and rubbed her eye with a tiny fist.

She was so beautiful, he thought, watching her—her tiny nose, her eyelids nearly transparent, the small shells of her ears. He had helped make her—she was a part of him.

And the rest of her—the rest of her was Keiko. Already he could see hints of his wife in her, in her high cheekbones and tuft of thick black hair. His mouth curled into a tiny smile.

He made sure she was safe and comfortable next to him, and then brushed his suddenly huge hand against her delicate fingers.

In her sleep, she wrapped her hand around his forefinger, gripping it tightly, and sighed.

He succumbed his finger to her, and watched her until he fell asleep.

ooo

Genzai's sister was in her late thirties, with three grown children and a four-year-old. Her name was Kirosata Midori and she was that sort of large matronly woman that Koshijirou had always expected in a pushy older sister. He was amused to discover that even though Genzai was six years older than her, he still referred to her as 'onee-san.'

He didn't question the family dynamics, but he did laugh about it in private.

Midori-san (she had insisted he called her such) was very good with children, and Kaoru took to her immediately. She smiled up at Midori-san right away and had gurgled, waving her arms.

"She smiled!" Koshijirou said, excited.

"It's just gas, Kou-kun," she said calmly. Koshijirou tried not to bristle at the nickname. "When she smiles for real, it'll be for you. And you'll know it."

He frowned, but decided that she had more experience than he did.

Midori-san beckoned him to sit down next to her on the porch. "I'll stay here for a few months, until she gets some teeth. Even though I don't like weaning her that early, I think it'll be easier on both of us. We'll transfer her to soft foods around that time." She nodded once. "But we'll talk on that later. Right now we're going to work out schedules. I'll cook and do the laundry and nurse Kao-chan, provided you clean and make sure we have money to cook. Genzai tells me you're working on a sword style."

Koshijirou nodded, a dreamy smile crossing his face. "I am. Kamiya Kasshin Ryu."

Midori-san smiled. "I'd like to hear about that sometime. Right now, though, you need to go down to Genzai's and help him arrange Keiko-chan's funeral."

Koshijirou stilled. He looked down at Kaoru, still waving her hands delightedly, tucked into Midori's arms. Suddenly she dropped her arms and fell asleep.

Midori sighed. "Why don't I go with you."

It was not a question.

Koshijirou nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Keiko's funeral was a few days later; a large affair. They had cremated her, and buried her ashes in the same plot of cemetery as both their families had been buried.

He had known her since she was born; four years to the day after him. When they were small, he had tormented her; he would splash her with mud, particularly if she had a new kimono, every time her family, who lived down the street, walked by his house. More often than not, she would cry, and he would feel bad and cry too.

When she got to be about seven, she discovered that she could exact revenge by stealing his shinai. A few years after that, they banded together and became the neighborhood pranksters, tormenting old Saki-obaa who sold vegetables and keeping everyone on their toes.

And then they grew up.

Koshijirou nodded and smiled as people he barely recognized congratulated and consoled him. Kaoru slept snugly in his arms, her warmth a comfort to him.

He wasn't sure what they were saying; his ears didn't seem to be working. But many were crying, and that startled him. Was Keiko so well-loved? Was he?

He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a fuzzy voice say, "Kamiya-san should be getting home now. Kao-chan's tired." And then Midori-san was leading him away, one arm secure around his shoulders.

He could barely stand by the time they reached the dojo—home, his mind recognized, but barely—and when she took Kaoru from his arms he began to cry.

"Keiko," he breathed. "Keiko, Keiko, Keiko…"

Kaoru fussed a little in Midori-san's arms, and then his eyes were so blurry he could see nothing. He felt his knees hit the ground and his face dampen, and then he felt an arm around his shoulders, slowly pushing him to the futon.

"Go to sleep, Kou-kun," Midori-san said softly. "You need it."

She slid open the shoji and he sat up suddenly. "Kaoru!"

"She needs to be fed," Midori-san whispered.

"Don't leave," he said. "Please."

Midori-san sighed, and knelt in the corner of the room, turned away from him. He watched what he could see of Kaoru—her foot—until Midori-san stood again and placed the infant in his arms.

He cradled the child desperately, his tears tumbling onto her soft, rosy cheeks. She was already asleep, her face peaceful.

"What am I going to so without her, Midori-san?" he whispered, his voice breaking.

"Idiot." The woman smacked him upside the head. "You're going to raise that little girl as best as you know how. And you're going to be happy."

Kaoru opened her eyes, and she watched him curiously for a long moment. Now that the grey of infant's eyes had started to wear off, they were even bluer than they had been before, and he could see his reflection in their depths.

She was beautiful. So, so beautiful. He blinked down at her, another tear sliding down his cheek.

She blinked up at him in response, her hand lifting as though she could wipe that tear away. It fell back to her almost instantly, sleepiness pervading, but then Kaoru blinked again and the corners of her lips turned up.

She smiled at him.

TBC

According to my research, children in Japan were often nursed well into their toddler years; some accounts cite children being nursed into their preteen years. However, Kaoru is being weaned at a young age because of her lack of real mother. If anyone has information on childrearing practice in late-Tokugawa Japan if there was no mother, please let me know. I had a difficult time finding that sort of info.

Also, I found that many Japanese parents slept with their infants. Hence, Koushijirou does so. It seems like something he would do anyway, given the character I've created for him.