1878, Tokyo (11th Year of Meiji)-

The smell of freshly laundered clothes wafted in the summer breeze along with another unforgiving stink. Himura Kenshin lifted his familiar redhead to the blue sky and breathed it in as he lay beneath it. He knew both scents well. His hands were still pruned from washing his sweet landlady's kimono. He hadn't even bothered to dry them, and as he pushed himself into a sitting position, dry clumps of dirt clung to them.

The stink came from something he was extremely used to: blood. From where the scent wafted, though he couldn't be sure. All he knew was it was nearby, and the idea frightened him. He rose to his feet and raced to the dojo's front door, throwing it open. The large room was empty but for one student, Myojin Yahiko. The nine year-old paused mid-swing and lowered his shinai. "Something wrong, Kenshin?" he asked.

The man blinked, realizing the boy was perfectly fine. "Have you seen Kaoru-dono?" he countered.

The lad scratched his head. "Sure. She said she wanted to take a bath..."

Kenshin inwardly apologized for leaving his friend hanging. He bolted from the room, throwing up a cloud of dust in his wake. Mentally, he made a note to sweep the porch when he found the chance. His sandal flew off his foot and he raced with only one to the bath.

His landlady's voice carried out the barred window of the bath house. The man skidded to a halt as he listened to her sweet tone-deafed singing. His lip curled up in a half smile as he accepted that she was perfectly fine. The blood seemed closer, though. He sunk down against the wall, sighing dejectedly. Perhaps it was just in his head. So often, it had been.

His fingers unconsciously traced the cross-shaped scar on his cheek. He'd been foolhardy to think he could escape war with only a few marks on his body. The majority of the damage was internal. It wasn't something that he'd ever be free of, but something he'd grown accustomed to, nevertheless.

His eyes flicked down at his bare tabi, thinking he should probably go collect his sandal before he completely ruined the white sock. Kaoru would have a fit and insist she buy him a new pair. As far as Kenshin figured, he was more than enough trouble for sweet Kaoru as it was. Her song quieted above him as he propped himself into a standing position and her voice carried out to him, "Kenshin, are you out there?"

"Yes, Kaoru-dono. Do you need anything?"

There was a pause and a soft splash. "No."

Kenshin hobbled away, smiling slightly as he did. Just being near Kaoru was a breath of fresh air to him.

"Kenshin?"

He stopped. "Oro?"

He expected the question before Kaoru vocalized it. "How long were you listening?"

Kenshin's smile grew. "Not long at all, Kaoru-dono."

"Oh."

Kenshin cast a glance back at the darkened window and froze. Flecks of red had smeared against the bath house. He hurried back and ran his hand over the sticky stain. It was real. The blood coated his fingertips and he gaped awkwardly at it. It could only have come from him. After all, he'd just been sitting there mere seconds ago.

His hand flew to the back of his gi and made its way up his spine until it reached a moist spot on his head. Kenshin blinked. He was bleeding, but from what? He couldn't recall injuring himself today.

Actually...

He scowled, trying desperately to remember why he'd been on the ground while doing laundry. He hadn't just been kneeling like usual, he'd been flat on his back. Since when? Had he fallen? Had something hit him?

Ignoring his lack of sandal, he hurried over the laundry. The bucket of suds had yet to be emptied and curiously the dirty laundry had yet to be washed. Kenshin frowned and wandered back onto the porch, seeking the comfort of his room. The door stuck a little as he slid it open. He'd have to fix that as well. He had few possessions, and the room appeared predominantly naked. Kaoru had set a cabinet inside for him to store things, but apart from an extra set of clothes, it was untouched.

He immediately went to the corner, where he laid his sakabato and sorted through its care kit until he found a cleaning cloth. He hated staining these. It reminded him of his days as a hitokiri, but it was better than dirtying Kaoru-dono's cloths. His hand encompassed the white rag and he winced as he held it to the back of his noggin.

A knock at his door made him jump and he nearly dropped it. The redhead blinked stupidly as he hastily hid the bloody cloth behind his back. "Oro?"

"Kenshin?" he relaxed at the sound of Kaoru's voice.

"Yes, Kaoru-dono?"

"Can I come in?"

Kenshin blushed at the thought of having dear Kaoru in his bedroom and stepped out, instead. She smiled lightly as he closed the door and faced her. Even with dripping hair, she looked like an angel. "Kenshin, were you planning to finish the laundry or do you need help?"

Kenshin returned that smile, hoping it was convincing. "Oh, no! This one seems to have gotten distracted. I'm sorry, Kaoru-dono. I'll finish that right away."

He went to brush past her, but Kaoru blocked him. For such a tiny woman, she certainly was intimidating. "Distracted?" she huffed. "Distracted by what?" Her eyes narrowed. "Did the police show up, again?"

"Oro?"

Kaoru crossed her arms. "Well?"

Kenshin laughed. "Nothing like that, Kaoru-dono." He folded the rag and shoved it into his obi as he sidled away from her. Kaoru grabbed his sleeve and stared. The redhead paused, unnerved by her attention. "Kaoru-dono?"

"Kenshin, you're bleeding."

The man exhaled, withdrew the rag, and covered the wound once more. "It's just a bump."

Kaoru's eyes softened, and she steered him down the porch to the kitchen. "Let me help you with that."