Into the Clear
by mikan
Chapter Two: Memories
A soft gust of wind swept through the front courtyard of the dojo. Kenshin felt his clothes flap slightly against his rigid body. He stood there, unmoving, watching the stranger hold Kaoru tight.
Kaoru unwound her arms from the man slowly, then stepped back.
"Where have you been all these years, Nii-chan?" she asked him quietly.
He looked away.
"The truth is, Kaoru-chan, I've been wanting to go back here for a long time. It's just that. . .my shame held me back."
Kaoru stared at his bowed head with concern. Shame? Ryou-nii-san had never done anything worthy of shame. He had always been honorable, dignified -- and kind. He would always walk over to her when he saw her peeking at the door to the dojo, and sneak her a little treat to eat. Sometimes, after practice, he would even stay to play with her for a while. She felt a rush of fondness as memories of him, tucked away long ago, slowly grew vivid in her mind.
She had always been proud of him and had always looked up to him. He had been the best student her father had ever had.
She remembered it clearly -- long afternoons when warm orange light would slant into the dojo and her father and Ryou would walk inside for another intense practice session. She would sit in a corner and watch, cheering for them both. No other student had embraced and honored Kamiya Kasshin Ryu more than Ryou. She had always been convinced that there had been no one more worthy to be her father's successor than he.
Her father himself had even said so.
When the times had started to get troubled, and the country was spiraling into war, her father would often sit by himself on the porch and stare off into the distance. She used to watch him from a corner of the hallway, wanting to go and ask him what he was thinking so hard about. But her mother would always pull her away gently from the corner with a wry smile.
"Come along, Kaoru. We'll play in your room."
"But. . .why does Father look so sad?"
"He's not sad, dear. He's just thinking about things."
"What things?" she would insist.
At that, her mother would pick her up and carry her to her room, depositing her in the middle of the tatami. Then she would plop down beside Kaoru, and draw her daughter into her arms.
"What things?" Kaoru would repeat stubbornly.
"Things that neither you nor I should be worrying ourselves about. Your father takes care of everything so. . ."
Looking at her daughter, she would notice the pout. One of her hands would reach for a doll.
". . .we. . .can. . ."
She would slowly inch it down Kaoru's shoulder. Kaoru would start to giggle.
". . .just. . ."
The doll would peek at Kaoru. ". . .play!"
Kaoru remembered how she used to smile at that. But one afternoon, she had finally managed to sneak past her mother and march up to where her father sat.
He had looked up at her with a faint smile.
"What is it, Kaoru-chan?"
She had sat down next to him.
"What are you thinking about?" she had asked him simply.
He had looked at her for one moment before pulling her close to his side.
"Oh, just -- things. Boring things."
"Boring things!" she had echoed indignantly. "Then why do you like thinking about them so much?"
He had chuckled.
"Grown-ups have to think about boring things once in a while, Kaoru-chan, so kids like you don't have to worry about them anymore. When you grow up, you'll have to think of boring things, too, sometimes."
She had studied him for a moment, her eyes perceptively searching his.
"Father, is there going to be trouble soon?"
She had clearly surprised him.
"And where did you hear that?"
"From the boys. While they were getting ready before practice."
"I see. And what were they saying?"
"That there is going to be a war. What is that, Father? 'War', I mean."
"It's when lots of people fight each other."
"Even you?" Her fingers had clutched at his sleeve.
He had patted her hand soothingly.
"No, not me, Kaoru."
"So you're not leaving?" she had persisted.
"Kaoru." Finally realizing the depth of the worry in her eyes, he had lifted her and placed her squarely in his lap. In his embrace.
"What made you think I was ever going to leave you?" he had asked her gently, his face close to her cheek.
Tears had welled up in her eyes.
"The boys were saying that everyone has to go and fight the bad people. That only cowards who don't have any honor would stay at home." She had turned around and thrown her arms around his neck. "But I don't want you to go, Father!"
"I'm not going anywhere, Kaoru."
She had looked up at him, her eyes wide and anxious.
"But -- "
"But what?" he had asked gently.
"Will people say you have no honor, then?"
"They might."
"Then you will have to leave, won't you!"
He had sighed and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead tenderly.
"I've already said I wouldn't, didn't I?" He paused. "You know, people have different ideas of what honor is. But for me, seeing you safe and happy. . .that's all the honor I need. And I'll always be here to defend it."
"Always?"
He had smiled down at her.
"Always. I promise you'll never be alone. There will always be me, your mother, and. . .and if not us, then, Ryou. Ryou will always be here to take care of you."
"Ryou-nii-chan?" she had echoed.
"He's a kind boy, and probably the best student I've ever had. When I get too old to teach kenjutsu, I'll leave it to the two of you to pass on Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. Alright?"
"Hai!" she had agreed with a bright smile.
But Ryou-nii-san left, Kaoru thought, as she stared at the man standing before her. She didn't know exactly how it had happened. Suddenly, he had just stopped coming to the dojo. When she had asked her father where Ryou was, she had seen pain flash briefly in his eyes.
"Remember what I told you, Kaoru, about people having their own ideas of what honor is? Ryou -- " he had paused, the disappointment weighing his words down. "Ryou can't see clearly yet where his honor truly lies. That's why he has gone off to fight. He thinks his honor lies in how long and how well he can wield his sword."
"Is he wrong, Father?" she had asked.
He had shook his head.
"No, Kaoru. There is honor in fighting well for something you believe in. But often. . .it can be a very empty kind of honor. Because of the blood you have to shed." His voice had dropped very low.
Kaoru could hear her father's words as she looked at Ryou. The man who stood before her was taller, leaner -- the lines of his face sharper and far more grim than she remembered. She wondered if the shame he now spoke of was his shame at having left the dojo against her father's wishes.
She began speaking quietly, her heart heavy with sadness for him.
"Nii-san, I don't know what shame you hold against yourself, but. . .I am sure it is undeserved. My father might have been greatly disappointed when you chose to leave, but he never spoke ill of you. He only told me you had left in pursuit of your own honor."
"I should have listened to your father," he answered her, a bitter edge to his voice. "He was right. There is no honor in war. It will only get you killed. But I didn't want to listen to him then. Whenever I picked up my shinai, I felt. . .guilty. I could feel the power in my hand, in my arm -- power I should having been using to swing a real sword to help stop the war. I came to hate myself so much that I had to leave."
He paused, his head hanging dejectedly, his gaze averted from the distressed look on her face.
"When I left, your father told me that I was never to speak of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, never to return here again. So I went and joined the Shogun's forces. And I fought. . .and I came to hate myself even more, for what I found myself doing. After we lost, I couldn't bear to return to Tokyo. For years I worked as a laborer, going north and south with the seasons. . .But always, I thought of you. I wondered how you were, what you were doing, how the dojo was. . .Then the group I traveled with decided to pass through Tokyo. I wasn't even going to show myself to you, but -- I had to find out -- I couldn't stop myself from asking some people about you. And the things they said. . ."
He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. The brightness of the pain she saw there twisted her heart.
"I had no idea, Kaoru-chan. I had no idea your parents had died and you were left here all by yourself. It is my fault that you've been alone all this time. Your father had made me promise that I would always be here to protect you, were something ever to happen to him. Because of my selfishness and haste to fight, that promise has gone unfulfilled, and for that -- I will always bear the shame. But. . .But if you would allow me, I beg you for another chance at fulfilling that promise. It is the only thing I can do to repay your father's kindness to me, and to atone for the dishonor I have dealt him and the suffering I have caused you all these years."
At that, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the ground before her.
Kaoru felt her throat tighten, and she blinked her tears away as she sank to her knees beside him.
"Nii-chan," she whispered, touching his cheek. "Please, stop. Please get up. I can't bear to watch you do this to yourself. It's not your fault you had to leave. Father didn't blame you. I don't blame you. . .for anything! I've been alright by myself, but what's more important. . .what's more important now is that you're back. Please, Ryou-nii-chan. Please look at me."
Slowly he raised his head, but his eyes remained downcast.
Kaoru reached out and gently brushed the dust of the ground off his brow. Finally, he looked at her.
She saw the old deep brown eyes that used to be filled with such laughter and kindness, now tortured with self-loathing and shame. She shook her head. Slowly, she edged off the ground and stood before him.
"What I care about now is that you're here again. All that pain, all that sadness -- Nii-chan, that's all in the past. Leave it there. I'm glad you've come back, and I want to see the old friend I knew. I want to see you smile and laugh and -- and be happy again." Her voice trembled slightly. "You're home now. You're home."
From where he stood, Kenshin stared at the scene before him, transfixed by her words, by the open caring on her face. It was as if he wasn't even there. Kaoru and the stranger were staring at each other, the intensity of the emotions they shared pulsing keenly on the air.
His own emotions were in a turmoil as well. From the moment the man had walked into the courtyard, Kenshin had sensed a threat -- his protective instincts flaring, his mind sharpening into alertness, and his body tensing. But Kaoru's reaction to the stranger had stunned him. And the exchange that had followed had left him with a mass of roiling emotions tearing at him -- jealousy, suspicion, concern for her safety, and, above all -- fear.
Who is this man? he wondered, eyeing the stranger impassively. Even though Kaoru thought she knew him, he had definitely changed from whatever he used to be fifteen years ago.
Unfortunately, Kenshin thought grimly, she doesn't see that.
Kenshin's eyes narrowed as he continued to watch them. The stranger had said he had worked for the shogun. Great. Had he been one of the Shinsengumi? Was he really here to exact his own personal revenge against Battousai? Kenshin couldn't remember having encountered this man, but then again, there had been lots of crazy bastards in Kyoto who had hated him, and hunted him still. He saw the long walking stick lying on the ground next to the stranger, and enmity rose within his heart.
If he dares to put her in any harm. . .
Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to Kaoru. He couldn't believe at first what he was seeing, but it was true -- it was happening. His heart froze with shock. And pain.
Kaoru was reaching out to the stranger. Her palm was open, and her smile happy.
"Okaeri," she whispered. Welcome back.
There was a moment of silence. Then Kenshin watched as the man placed his hand in hers.
"Tadaima," he answered, his gaze fixed on her face.
"Tadaima," Kenshin whispered to himself at the same time, his lips forming the words unconsciously. I'm home.
He felt as if the layers of time had peeled away from the scene before him -- that he was watching a replay of the moment when she had welcomed him home after they had returned from Kyoto. . .when she had made him realize that he had finally found a home. The words were all the same, her smile just as bright, her eyes just as beautiful. And her hand just as open and trusting.
Except that the man who now held it wasn't him.
It was then that he felt it, the deep surge of pain within. And the fear that made it all much keener.
I'm losing her.
But it was different, this fear. This time, he knew he was powerless. There was nothing he could do to bring her back to him. Because she didn't need rescuing. She was the one holding out her hand.
"Kaoru -- " he whispered brokenly, his hand lifting slightly from his side, as if to reach out to her. He could feel his heart calling her, desperately.
But this time, she didn't hear him. Instead, she helped the stranger to his feet, her hand still clasped in his.
Kenshin's hand fell back and hung limply at his side.
Suddenly the warmth had gone out of the afternoon.
