-1Happily Ever
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"So he really said you're Immortal?" Kaoru said, with a giggle. After a long day of work, she sat crosslegged on the porch behind him, back to the wall, enjoying the warm afternoon air. It was late, and they had the dojo to themselves -- Yahiko had said something about seeing Tsubame, and Sano was most likely off gambling.
Kenshin flashed her a grin, over his shoulder, as he sewed a neat lines of stitches in Yahiko's gi -- the boy had caught it on a nail and ripped a tear several inches long. Truthfully, Yahiko needed a new gi, because he was growing taller with each passing day. He was at the 'all arms and legs' stage of teenage that promised more growth spurts, and more expenses to keep him decently clothed.
Not that Kenshin exactly remembered growth spurts -- he frowned into his sewing, wondering why he hadn't grown at least a few inches between fourteen and eighteen. It didn't seem like he had, not really. He'd gotten a bit broader through the chest -- but that was more a function of training than growing.
Surely the reason was malnutrition and lack of calories -- he distinctly remembered being hungry for most of his young life -- and not the reason the crazy foreigner had stated.
"Himura Kenshin, do not let what the madman said go to your head." Kaoru leaned forward swatted him with the back of her hand, "You know you're not Immortal. I'm sick of seeing you hurting."
"Oro! Kaoru-dono, this one is sewing!" He protested the abuse with a grin, ducking his head, but not upset at all. When Kaoru was relaxed enough to swat him, all was right with his world.
But there was that -- the injuries that he'd obtained in each of those fights. This was evidence that he wasn't what Connor had explained -- Connor had said he ought to heal faster than mortal, and better, and he emphatically didn't. But Connor had also said he needed to take a few heads to get the full effect of that benefit, that it was a function of Immortal power, and he wasn't about to find out if this was true. Connor had said most Immortals who were going to survive long term killed their first opponent within months of their first death.
And that was murder. It was wrong. It chilled him to the bone. To gain another's power -- his knowledge, and some sort of mystic strength -- by killing them? His revulsion knew no bounds when he thought about it.
"So this loon said you were going to live forever?" Kaoru scooted forward and settled beside him. Her tone of voice had changed, somehow, and he glanced up.
The setting sun caught her features -- made her look golden and angelic. It played through her dark hair, copper on ebony. His breath caught, briefly, looking at her -- she had that power over him. After a moment, he returned to his sewing, though the thought occurred, idly, as it often did, I wish I could hold her close ...
She leaned back, hands propped on the worn wood, face turned towards the sun. "Kenshin, wouldn't it be amazing if what the madman said was true? That you will live forever?"
"If what he said is true, people will try to kill me simply for what I am."
Kaoru snickered. "So what's new about that?"
"And," he said, without thinking, attention more on mending the gi than anything else, "You're not Immortal, according to the madman. I asked, because I was curious to see if he would claim you, too, in his delusion. If what he said was true, I would live forever young but watching you grow old and then die old age, and I do not think I could bear it if that were to happen. To live centuries without you at my side? No. I do not think I could bear that."
She went very still beside him, breath ceasing, eying him curiously. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he'd said to affect her so, and he replayed his words in his head, twice, before realizing what he'd implied -- that he would be around to watch her grow old. That he wouldn't wander off someday.
"Kenshin," she said, very quietly, "Are we going to do this forever? This -- thing -- between us, neither moving forward nor moving apart? Will you never let me in?"
He couldn't answer. He literally couldn't find the words. He was nobody's fool and he knew exactly what she meant -- would he forever be her hired man, simply sewing and cleaning and cooking, until the day she died? Because she didn't want that. And in truth, neither did he, though he couldn't explain why he waited to even acknowledge the feelings he knew they shared.
A gentle hand descended on his ponytail. It was his turn to freeze, as she stroked his hair, smoothing out the tangles; it was an almost casual gesture -- but they never touched. One hug, the occasional brush of hand against hand; he could count the moments like this on the fingers of one hand. "Kenshin," she said, in a very gentle voice, after a moment of silent caressing of his hair, "You're the strongest man I know. Why are you so scared of love?"
Fear.
He knew the emotion well though he'd never been afraid for himself -- his fear was always for others. That was one of his strengths, perhaps, that ability to face death down with no concern for his personal welfare. A kind of madness, too, but one he knew made him one of the best swordsmen alive. He'd never been afraid of dying, though he'd also chosen to live with his past and survive.
Except ... except that he was afraid for himself. Not of physical harm, never that, but with a jolt of recognition he realized he was terrified for his heart. He was afraid for his heart because it had been broken, so many times, and only mended partly by the years at the dojo, and it would shatter, if Kaoru were ever to push him away ...
Coward, he accused his heart.
I'm afraid, he thought, too honest even with himself not to admit it. That's why I never act. Kaoru knows me better than I know myself, sometimes.
"You're breaking my heart, Kenshin," she said, in a tone of voice he'd never heard out of her before. It was soft, sounded near tears, with a trace of bitterness. "I won't wait forever."
"Then don't ..." he said, without thinking, meaning don't wait for us forever. He meant to say more, to say he, too, was tired of waiting, but while he paused to formulate the words -- he wasn't sure he even had the vocabulary for what he wanted to say, but he knew now was the moment to summon the courage and find the words and say it -- she sucked a sharp breath in, and went very still beside him.
"Ken.. shin?" She sounded aghast.
Her hand withdrew from his hair. He looked sideways at her, shocked by her tone of voice. She knelt beside him, hands in her lap, head bowed, unshed tears glittering on her eyelashes, catching the setting sun. She looked utterly broken. What had he said?
I've done this to her. But what ...
Then don't. He'd said that, and he realized with dawning horror that she'd entirely misunderstood. He'd meant, Don't wait for me anymore because I'm going to propose here, but give me a minute while I figure out what to say ... And she'd heard, Don't wait for me. Find someone else.
"Kaoru-dono ..." He started to offer his heart and soul to her. He would give her everything. Marriage, love, utter devotion. He'd give it to her, right now, this instant. It was time -- it was past time. For Kaoru, he'd do anything, including conquer the rather large lump of terror in his soul over any relationship more intimate than 'good friend' ... he'd break those walls down and let her in.
The Kaoru-dono was a mistake born of long habit. He realized that as soon as the dono passed his lips. He should have simply said her name, as the intimate friend she was. Damnit, I'm not good at this! Kenshin mentally swore, as her expression grew still and closed.
"Don't say it." Bitterness, and no small amount of fear. She lunged to her feet. "You're killing me, Kenshin."
And she ran, then, disappearing around the corner of the building.
"Oroo ..." Kenshin groaned, slapping himself on the forehead. It was almost funny. Kaoru, who had been so patient with him for all these years, had finally snapped -- about thirty seconds before he was about to pour his heart out to her.
"Kaoru-dono?" He followed her path. She'd darted into the bath house and shut the door. He knocked on the door. Stubbornness was one of his better traits; having decided to confess his feelings to her, he wasn't about to let her get away now!
"Go away."
"Kaoru-dono, please come out and talk to this unworthy one. Please."
She was crying, he could hear her. Deep, wracking sobs. His guilt welled up; he wanted to cry with her -- he, who never cried, not even when his parents had died so long ago. Not when he'd thought she was dead. He just didn't cry. Never had. But he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes now.
I did this to her. The guilt was almost overwhelming.
"Can this one come in?" He asked, when no answer was forthcoming to his demand that she come out.
"No! Go away!"
Trusting that she was just hiding and that it was highly unlikely that she had undressed for a bath, he reached up and opened the door. She was curled in the corner, arms around her knees, tears streaming down her face. Her head jerked up at the noise of the door opening, and she stared at him for a moment, then buried her face in her knees again. "Go away. I don't want your pity."
He stepped into the bathhouse, closed the door after him, and sat down next to her.
"Kaoru," he said, softly, "Would you like to know what this unworthy one was going to say?"
"No." A sniffle. "You were going to say that you ... I don't know, that you don't want me. Not that way."
He'd broken her heart. He knew, now that she had given the emotion a name, that he'd been scared of the reverse -- that it would be his heart that would be broken. And it was hers that had shattered.
"Kaoru-dono, this one is so unworthy." Hesitantly, he reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. "I am so sorry."
She lifted her head from her knees, met his eyes. Tears tracked freely down her face.
Impulsively, he scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She stiffened in surprise, then tried to pull away. His arms tightened around her and held her close.
"Shhh. Kaoru-dono, allow this one a minute. Please." He wouldn't let her leave, knowing he'd only be tracking her down again, and she'd likely run farther this time if he let her go. Something in his tone of voice stilled her attempts to escape. She sat very still, and he realized she was shaking.
He rested his forehead against her temple, and said in a low voice, "Kaoru-dono, I was going to ask if you would marry this unworthy one. You ran too soon. This one loves you."
Her silence scared him all anew, for a moment. Her head came up from her knees, and her blue eyes were very wide. Disbelieving. She didn't stop crying, but her arms went around him and she buried her face in his shoulder. For a long moment, she held on to him, tears dampening his shoulder.
"Kaoru-dono?" He said, gently, "A response would be traditional, that it would."
Kaoru's eyes searched his face, "Kenshin, I thought ..."
"Aaa. This one knows what you thought. I'm so very sorry. This one has handled things badly -- and has, for a long time. If it's not painfully obvious by this time, Kaoru-dono, this one is very bad at matters of the heart."
She snickered, apparently agreeing with that critical self-assessment. "Kenshin?"
"Yes, Kaoru-dono?"
"The answer is yes. And also, I love you, you idiot."
Shyly, he reached out and pulled her back into his arms. Held her. And after a moment, after summoning every bit of his courage, he reached up, tipped her chin up with two fingers, and kissed her gently. When they finally came up for air, very shyly, he said, "I love you too, Kaoru."
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Much later, Sanosuke showed up at the dojo, noting with curiosity that no lights were lit inside. Had Kaoru and Kenshin gone out?
"Sano," Kenshin's voice came from the darkness next to the steps. The samurai's voice was low. "Come back in the morning."
Sanosuke started to protest -- then realized Kenshin wasn't alone. Kenshin sat on the steps with his arms around the missy.
With his arms around Kaoru. The two looked so natural that it took Sano a moment to realize the significance of what he was seeing. Kaoru was snuggled into Kenshin's embrace, her head against his shoulder, one arm around his waist, eyes closed. Her hair was down, a surprisingly long tumbling fall of ebony curls. She appeared to be asleep.
Sanosuke's eyebrows rose clear to his hairline. "'Bout time, buddy," he murmured, with a grin. "About time."
Kenshin's eyes smoldered warning at Sano. Kenshin clearly wasn't comfortable with a witness to this. Sano held his hands up defensively and then bolted for the gate, laughing under his breath -- laughter that turned to open whoops of amusement as soon as he was more-or-less out of earshot.