STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY: Here's to stating the obvious: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. I'm not gifted enough to have created such a beautiful story, all on my own.
Quick little message from author: For once, the quick little message is actually going to be quick and short. My muse went on a hunger strike, took a holiday, lapsed into a coma- take your pick, there are enough excuses to go around. I'm not in the greatest of moods and anything I say right now will probably be just a waste of both your time and mine so, if you're still interested in this story or have just tuned in, here's an all new chapter. Kaoru and Kenshin reencounter so you can all rejoice, or whatever… Oh, also the title was taken from a famous book by revered author, Ernesto Sábato. And the beat goes own…
Chapter 9: On heroes and tombs
(Sobre heroes y tumbas)
They say that when you are about to die your whole life flashes before your eyes. Personally, I always thought that was pretty bogus. I mean: a bright light at the end of a tunnel after reliving your entire existence in a matter of seconds? Seriously people!
That is so 'Unsolved Mysteries', so overly cliché that, were I ever to die and were the 'blinding light at the end of a tunnel' theory to be true, I would ask as my dying wish to have all those rules bent a little, just for me. After all, by that point, I would be a dead girl walking anyway.
If you think about it, why would anyone want to relive their entire life -from fetal position to arthritic self -before letting go of it, unwillingly more often than not? Ridiculous, hunh?
Well, at least it did seem that way until I saw the giant metallic monster too little too late and came to terms with the fact that, at seventeen, I was a dead girl walking.
Granted, I think anyone would have been just as shocked had they been in my situation; it's not every day that you sordidly realize 'I'm going to die now', at least not in my experience, but I was still terribly angry at myself when I noticed that, in the grim reaper's face, I had just screamed like a girl. And I had always wanted an honorable, courageous death too…
Not that I gave death much thought per say; so far I had only experienced the moody side of adolescence but was mercifully spared from suicidal tendencies: to each his own, right?
Well, there I was like a deer caught in the headlights (spare me from the Alanis Morissette irony of it all!) and all I kept thinking was 'this is it: seventeen years wasted!'. Not very comforting thoughts for someone who was, hopefully, about to reach the gates of heaven, I know, but I couldn't help but wonder that I had left so many things undone, that there were just too many regrets and roads not taken for me to just up and die. Not like I had a choice in the matter though…
After that occurred to me, I was almost ready to be a good girl and resign myself to my fate (again, not like I had a choice in the matter!). Never mind that my grand total of boyfriends added up to null, that I would never receive a lifetime achievement award, that I had missed out on a Pulitzer, that I had never been graced with the chance to succeed my father as Master of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, that I never got to shake hands with Nelson Mandela… when it's time to go, it's time to go and I don't think you are really entitled to much opposition and questioning when Thanatos rears his ugly head and sacrificial sword.
So, bowing my head to the Greek, Hindu, Buddhist, and every other polytheist religion's Gods of Death, I felt quasi prepared to embark on that enigmatic journey that was not marriage, but rather a passing on ceremony. That's when the quasi of it all hit me like a ton of bricks: I found myself staring intently at a chubby, child version of Kamiya Kaoru, favorite yellow taffeta dress and all!
Wow! I really hadn't seen that dress in years; I'd thought mom had given it away or something. It certainly brought back cheerful memories: how could I forget that dress when I used to throw fits every time my mother insisted it was in dire need of a wash?
How a five year old could feel comfortable in taffeta garbs will always remain a mystery to me but, the point is, I loved that little gown with every fiber of my being and actually broke into inconsolable tears after it was dragged through mud for the first time.
If I could go back in time and talk to my miniature version, the juicy, ever-handy piece of advice that I would give me would be to wipe my eyes dry and blow my nose for the last time because, if I were to have a nervous breakdown every time my clumsiness ruined my clothes, seventeen would be an unreachable milestone.
Then again, I did reach seventeen so, at one point or another, I guess I did stop wailing and going into bouts of hysterics over my unladylike genetic predisposition…
Well, I looked on as mini-me skipped across my house's front lawn chasing a butterfly –how dorky of my former self! -and then: goodness gracious me, my mother came into full view with enough hairspray in her hair to have single-handedly caused the giant hole in the ozone layer! Oh, and that was dad over there, when he still had a moustache! Wow, fashion sense really did improve over the years: with that sort of understanding it wouldn't be so hard to die content…
Suddenly, after gathering me up in her arms, we were all transported to our warm and cozy living room, where mom was prodding me to blow the candles on a giant chocolate birthday cake.
Hey, I remember that day: that's when I got Snuggly, my faithful teddy bear! Why mom insisted on ramming him into the washing machine on that fateful day, I'll never know…
Poor Snuggly met his untimely death spinning around in soap bubbles with the whole family's dirty laundry: mom tries her best but, really, she wasn't graced with too many housekeeping qualities herself; it probably runs in our bloodstream.
Ensuing my laments regarding the traumatic loss of Snuggly, it dawned on me that I was looking at yet another familiar version of me, only now I was a bit taller, wearing overalls and sporting braces. Life at 9 wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, not when metal smiles entered the equation; kids can be so cruel sometimes…
My past self was sitting at a long table, drearily glaring at the contents of a red lunchbox.
'I feel your pain kid', I thought to myself. Mom was going through her Martha Stewart phase that year and had not yet accepted that she should only stick to simple meals and that being the perfect housewife was just not meant for her.
Suddenly a bouncy little girl with wide eyes and two neat, black plaits slumped down beside the child I had once been:
"Wanna trade?" she asked kindly, offering a tuna sandwich to two bobbing pigtails.
"Are you sure? It'll cost you!"
"Don't be silly; when people trade they don't have to pay each other anything!" she answered rolling her eyes at such a nonsensical suggestion.
"I meant that it would cost you your stomach…"
"Oh it can't be that bad!" she said poking her hand into the lunchbox and popping something into her mouth.
Soon her pale little face turned sickly green and she struggled to swallow down Mrs. Kamiya's best attempts at a healthy lunch for her only child.
Nine year old Kaoru laughed so much she had to grab at her aching sides.
"On second thought: wanna share?" the seemingly kind munchkin inquired.
"You're funny!" Kaoru exclaimed, taking her half of the sandwich.
Ah yes: Misao, the lifesaver from day one! And that was the beginning of an era; one that had just been drastically drawn short with my demise… See why I didn't want to go through the traumatic 'This is Your Life' experience? I had come to treasure moments like these, moments when it felt great to be alive and safely in my own skin, moments that were not about to repeat themselves anytime soon; at least not unless the dwindling between having a pulse and being a corpse state were taken into account…
Green light, red light: that was a game we used to play in kindergarten. But right then, in my vision, the flickering colorful bulbs were only part of a profusely decorated hall, adding to the candy canes and silver garlands strewn about the place: Christmas at the Kamiya household was always a multicolored affair, if not psychedelic and splashy.
I could see a gingerbread house, an artificial Christmas tree, mistletoe, red and green candles and so many other things that I began to recite 'I see England, I see France; I see…smoke coming out of the kitchen?'
Oh yeah… that was the year mom set Christmas dinner on fire and we ended up pigging out at a Tony Roma's; which could easily bring me to Christmas Eve at an Outback, with Chinese takeout, Dominos pizza and then there was that odd year when we actually sat down for a homemade meal…
In spite of that, I felt that my mother's unorthodox cuisine was something I could grow to miss.
And thus it went on and on and on, this long-lasting cycle of recollection of a life not quite lived to its full potential when, all of a sudden, the flashes started picking up pace and gaining a fiery intensity that scared me. I had never ever felt this way before while I was alive.
The images spun faster, the edges blurring, the shapes became distorted and contorted, the voices thinning out into a thick unsettling silence, until… Snippets of scenes, of events, of places and of people I was sure I had never seen before flooded my mind and took me completely by surprise.
Tears, gentle smiles, blood, fireflies, bokkens, clashing steel, tears, soft eyes, wildflowers, tall grass, a musky scent, blue ribbons, amber coals, violet depths and a teardrop, a sole swirling teardrop: there was an urge to shiver, to despairingly cry out loud, to run away from an ancient searing pain that was tearing me apart, that was splitting me in two. There was a name, a word I could not remember but that I kept trying to pronounce over and over again.
I was petrified, shaken to the core and only one thought kept me from falling apart, only one thought kept increasing my distress; only one incomprehensible thought kept me alive:
"What if I never see him again?"
The horror, the confusion and the inexplicable bout of serenity welling up within me was too much to take, to understand.
Thus, with a sharp intake of breath and that mysterious, unknown adage piercing through my heart and bursting forth, forming against the protuberance of my lips, I tersely whispered my release and resurfaced, blinking my eyes open in mirthful recognition of a violaceous infinity that anchored me to this place, to this life, that had always been.
And into these mauve heavens I drowned, somehow aware that I was where I was meant to be, that I had survived, that all would be well now, that I was saved and always would be so long as the gleaming perse azure that I sank into and swallowed me whole was around to catch me; there was no doubt in my mind that always it would, without failure.
How I came to know all of this is beyond what I can gather or guess, but the importance of a life's retrospection was crucial to the acquirement of such knowledge and, consequentially, I was fully awake inside, something clicked deep within. Outside however, was a whole other matter…
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
…She stands with arms stretched out…
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap…
…Oil painted eyes, blind yet hypnotized…
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap…
…Those eyes have always left me dry…
Aaarghh!!! This was simply not working!!! First it had been Alice-in-Chains, then Guns N' Roses, swiftly followed by Metallica, Audioslave, Deftones and now this! How in the world was he supposed to concentrate?
With the stereo blaring and Sano's friends guffawing and meandering about, not even locking himself in his room had proved a viable solution. If only he had had more time to study on the weekend! But no; he just had to go to that frat party and play hero of the day, stuck babysitting a drunken girl in the aftermath of wrong choices made. What he would give to take back Saturday night: parts of it at least…
"How near, how far, how lost they are…"
Gah! Now, to top things off, he was singing along, but he still could not memorize who it was that had designed the Chrysler building… Why did that tune have to be so catchy? First he was drumming his fingers against his desk, then he was distinctly aware that he had subconsciously picked up on the song's lyrics but –alas! –which famous architect designed the Chrysler building? Unnerving silence and a mental blank: this was simply not working.
Attempting to shake the deafening melody out of his head, Kenshin stubbornly glared down at his notebooks and read on… and on, and on, and on.
"That's right: you and me, we've always been, haven't we?"
Aw man! He did not need mental flashbacks right now! He did not need to think about all the nonsense she said, about all her soft spoken words that had felt so soothing, about her tantalizing lips, the flowing black velveteen of her hair, the deep quality of her- no, no, no and NO!
He had just gone over the same line of his notes fifteen times and had assimilated none of it, yet all it took was five minutes in the company of a decidedly strange girl for her every breath and gesture to be permanently engraved in his cognizance… unlike the properties of P.E.X, which he knew was a given on his test sheet. That would be an automatic 5 points off if in the next two hours' time if he didn't manage to grab a hold of himself and focus somehow.
I've rendered every line, every contour of a muse's eye…
Her eyes had been dark, intense; they had bordered on an oily black that had always suffocated him, while simultaneously inspiring awe and worship. In a way, she had been something akin to a muse: her presence alone had made him strive to be better, to get out of the hole he had buried himself in.
He had been so keen on impressing her, on impressing himself; he had so badly wanted to grow into someone worthy in her eyes, into as close to an honest, decent man as he could be. He had worked so hard to pick himself off the floor and then, just like that, one day she was… gone.
Well no, she didn't just disappear but, what was the point of going over that conversation, the one that had ended it all; had he not been good enough to make her stay? Of course he wasn't but, he still hoped, he still hoped that she could see beyond that, beyond everything that happened and take him in, close all exits to the exterior world and allow themselves to drown in one another.
How naïve of him to think for one lousy second that she would sacrifice a dazzling, promising future for his sake. How selfish of him to want that of her. How self-serving of him to still yearn for her eyes.
With an ominous sigh, Kenshin slammed his books shut and stood up. Yep, this was simply not working: he was unable to concentrate and, at any rate, the dramatic rock songs playing were not adrenalin generators but rather endorphin inhibitors; he couldn't deal with this right now- he was in dire need of fresh air or, possibly a cigarette.
After all the nicotine patches and packets of chewing gum that he had sustained, fresh air it was…
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"'Absence makes the heart grow fonder': says who? Absence makes the heart grow bitter, colder, desperate and, maybe even complacent; but fonder? No: definitely not fonder."
These were the thoughts of a wearily distraught Himura Kenshin. With his hands fisted deep into the pockets of his jeans and solely shielded from the chillier turn that the weather was taking by a plain gray jacket that billowed loosely in the wind, he treaded through the packed streets, hoping to find some refuge from the cold creeping into his chest and wringing his insides into new terrains of obliterating pain.
Why did it always have to be so hard? Why couldn't all of the big bads just go away, chasing after someone who gave a damn? Or, didn't, for that matter. All he was asking for was one tiny, minuscule tether of a break.
Whatever he got, he deserved; he knew as much. But, hadn't it all been enough? How much more of this was he supposed to take?! Like if any of this was pleasant; like if his life had ever been…
What did a guy have to do to get the sporadic once in a lifetime peace and quiet that every human being rightfully deserved? After all, hell was supposed to come after death, not before and, since he already knew exactly where he was headed when he croaked –which he was most certain did not include a choir of angels singing heavenly hymns and playing the trumpet –couldn't Moira cut him some small, very thin slice of slack while still being 'alive' sortta' speak?
However, even while plowing through his one and every rant regarding the harsh hand fate had dealt him, he knew fully well in the back of his mind that he was undeserving of anything more: the certainty in this random fact of 'Kenshin's conception of life's just rewards' never wavered, despite his thousand fold complaints.
Misery: that was his just reward; nothing more, nothing less, only desolation in its purest form. And, to a certain extent, he was fine with that.
It was only when days like this - days that threatened to mow him over - unfolded in their sinister supremacy that he craved for analgesics and a chance to forget everything that weighed him down: Atlas was feeling just how heavy his burden could be and it was driving him to the brink of madness.
It wasn't the first time this happened though, and it most undoubtedly would not be the last. He was condemned, he was a marked man and there was no escape. Well, he wasn't really a marked man in the most accurate and faithful definition of said term, but he bore a scar within himself that would never fully heal. Some things would simply not change; no one had the kind of power to turn everything right back around - or time, as a second option…
"…until you trust yourself."
Saturday night was truly predestined and foreordained to be engrained and burned into his memory forever, wasn't it?
He couldn't trust himself though; no one should. What she had said was wrong, a terrible mistake; not one sane person should ever wish to gain his trust or hope that he regained confidence in himself.
Bad things happened when people got too trusting, too confident; days that turned him inside out and the world upside down were a consequence of such spells of reliance, faith and sure bets. She should never have said that; no one should ever say anything remotely similar to that!
It had pleased him immensely to hear her utter those words though; in hindsight… it still pleased him! It terrified him to no extent, sure, but he couldn't bring himself to endure the blatant terror without experiencing its fair share of… was it joy? He couldn't be sure. All he was certain of was that, ever since that evening, he couldn't get that 'Kaoru' girl out of his head.
Already when he'd bumped into her on the street, the vision of her - run-of-the-mill boldness and cynicism all around – had lingered throughout the rest of his 'fun-filled day', but after the party…she had suddenly become a 24/7 distraction.
Between juggling thoughts of her, dark eyed muses and the intricacies of indoor plumbing systems, he was running short out of breath, patience and attention combined.
Kenshin was many things, but he knew that the job of clown or buffoon was better suited for others; at this rate the maneuvering would soon crash down to a freaky halt.
He had to bring his mind round to other things, other subjects of interest, like, say… golf? Nah; that had never been his sport if it, in fact, could be considered one…
Perhaps thinking of a Beatles tune would put an end to his mental trifle? Nope; he really wasn't in the mood for happy, upbeat, senseless tunes.
Food? Who was he, Sano?
What distraction, what distraction? He needed a distraction, of any kind, any type, any size, any way he could get it: Kaoru? No, not that distraction!!!
But wait… yes, now he was hallucinating: maybe his mind was failing him in his recent stresses? Could be quite the possibility as it seemed to be the normal side effect of spending any short amount of time with her…
So now, dilly-dallying down a road - pick any road – a mental projection of her pretty face and carefree little stride – quite different to her drunken swaying – was bound to materialize before him: 'yay' for him ever encountering such disconcerting female specimens!!!
He was seriously beginning to question his sanity now; after all, the perfect holographic reproduction of her walking up the street – more like running – was hauntingly vivid, and the fact that it was gifted with perfect motor coordination struck him as somewhat odd.
Automatically he closed his eyes, cleared his mind of any thought (the art of meditation had not entirely been lost on him) and he opened them again to find her… still there, only, as of now, she was much closer.
Okay, so either he had gone complete rampant in a delirious psychotic bout, either she was not actually a figment of his imagination anymore and more than likely real. Great! He was seeking to distance himself from her and just so happed to bump into her: oh well, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade! Or so the saying went, not like he had ever been very good with colloquial expressions…
Thence Kaoru was on one side of the avenue, soon to breach the distance and make it into his venue. She hadn't even noticed him and he, in spite of the calm front, was proceeding to feel giddy in expectancy of this entirely unexpected encounter. What to expect, what not to expect? Certainly not what he was about to witness…
In a truly Caesar-like move, he saw, he went, he saved the damsel in distress. Like a speeding bullet, he soared through the air, her frightened scream putting him on edge. One minute she was standing motionless, paralysis settled in - the anticipatory phase to getting wheeled over; the next she was safely in his arms, airborne, then rolling to a sprawled stop atop his warm body: he had done everything in his power to get her as far away from the vehicle as possible and to break her fall as gently as was feasible, in light of the circumstances. Now, if she would just open her eyes or talk, he could relax his hold on her and on his own rising fear…
There: she was trying to mumble something, too softly for him to catch, too hushed a whisper for him to make out. Was she praying under her breath? Was she thanking the heavens? Wait a second; the silent words her lips were forming looked an awful lot like… well, he couldn't read lips, but he could discern when someone was mouthing his name. Had she recognized him so quickly, even before squinting her eyes open, back from such a close call to the haven of broad daylight?
"Ken… shin…"
Her ragged susurration was accompanied by the revival of two vibrant ultramarine pools that locked gazes with Kenshin's concerned eyes.
Letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, he was assuaged upon realizing that safety was hers and consciousness likewise; the last thing he needed was, yet again, an unconscious Kaoru in the space of less than three days since her last comatose stretch!
"That's good, you recognize me! Are you hurt? Are you wounded?" his erratic gushing of words was inevitable, given the whole of the situation.
"Mou…" was the raspy, monosyllabic 'retort', as she one again allowed her eyes to drift shut.
"Come on Kaoru, don't faint on me! It seems like ever since we've met you've been asleep or unconscious half of the time."
"Ha… Me, faint? Who do you take me for?" she murmured, not nearly as enthused as she ought to have sounded.
"That's a good girl then! But, you're going to have to convince me otherwise because, if you keep your eyes closed, I'm going to start assuming things." he encouraged her gently.
"Kenshin…"
"That's right, I'm right here."
"Did you… did you save me?" she asked, slowly blinking her eyes into full-blown awareness.
"We can talk about that later; right now, I need to make sure you're okay." Kenshin articulated whilst steadily prying her from atop him, hauling them both to a sitting position on the concrete floor, just as a small crowd milled about.
"Did you… you jumped in front of that demon on wheels, didn't you?"
"How many fingers am I holding up?" he voiced instead, deciding to blatantly ignore her question.
"Didn't you?" she continued prodding; not even near death experience would make her determination falter.
"How many fingers Kaoru?" he questioned patiently.
"You did; you saved me by risking your own life." she stated meekly.
"The important thing is we're both fine, alive and kicking."
"Thank you."
"There's no need for that. Now, do you think you can stand?" Kenshin asked, as if addressing a small child.
"YOU IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING??? YOU COULD HAVE KILLED YOURSELF! WHO DO YOU TAKE YOURSELF FOR, SUPERMAN? WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND THAT WEIRD HERO COMPLEX OF YOURS??? YOU ARE SUCH A MORON!!! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!" Kaoru hollered at the top of her lungs, delivering one sound punch to Kenshin's shoulder.
"Oro?!!"
From the common masses a hero arose. Through his noble deed a tomb was avoided. One unique girl's opinion would sooner than later provoke a public scandal that was about to rock the town. For a girl who had just gone through a severely traumatizing experience, Kaoru sure knew how to vent…
Reviewer Responses:
To Fangirl: I'm assuming that you're already in a sanatorium, what with me taking so long to update and all… Well, that's what happened with Kaoru, Kenshin and a main character almost getting run over; I hope you enjoyed the "drama". Thank you for your continuous support: it means a lot to me.
To dark-luv-dove: There is an actual plot in here somewhere… I'm sure that if we look close enough we might trip over it together! @_@ No but, seriously, I do have plans to make this story more than relaxed little pieces of fluff or comedic relief scattered about; this is only the beginning and right now, I'm only giving shape to the characters and dropping subtle hints here and there for the attentive reader to catch on to my evil machinations… Pay close attention to details that might seem really insignificant and you might just guess were I'm heading with this. Thanks miles and miles for the incentive review!
To EnjeruJoshin: Thank you for your energetic response to this fic: it really helped me out in the writing process, believe it or not. I'm glad you like the way I write; actually, I'm flattered and feel like if I got a major ego boost right about now ^_^ I'm not entirely sure if this chapter was in fact fun-filled or exciting but Kenshin's back in the picture… and from the looks of it he stole Superman's cape and went all out heroic on us, something that Kaoru doesn't completely approve of. What can I say? She just isn't your regular Lois Lane or anything… The cinnabon: ice-cream, jell-o and Cinnabons make me a very, very happy girl (must be all that sugar)!
To chibi-ken14: You know, I started off writing this in a really bad mood, but the fact that you say that you're IN love with this story, that really managed to lift my spirits. Thanks for that: I really need that revitalizing, friendly note! ^_^
To Luli451: Liked my cliffie, hunh? Believe me, you 'aint seen nothing yet! I could have been veeeeeery evil to Kaoru without killing her off, breaking her legs or making her sweetie keep his distance. Fortunately for you guys, that was just a random thought that I've decided to keep as a possibly good starting point for another fanfic. As for Kenshin making an appearance, I guess this chapter kind of answers your question… ^_^ Thanks for the review!
To Kaoru Gal: To your relief Kaoru wasn't hit and I won't be seriously toying with her… yet. But, if I really set my mind to it… there could be a lot of agony for all of our characters. Which reminds me, I should get into that mindset soon enough, otherwise this story is going to drag on forever. Thank you for the support and I hope you continue to read this ficcie and that this chapter did not disappoint.
To missaw: Bad Iram indeed! Enjoy the moments while they last because soon enough, Iram won't be too nice to her favorite characters anymore. Although, I am thinking of giving this a happy end; what can I say? In my mind, true love must always triumph over all!
To Rhapsody07: Wow, I've never met a jell-o phobic before; that must really… weird? I'm not sure which is the word I should be looking for here! So… did you like this chapter? I know it got kind of angsty sometimes but, there was some comedy to it- or have I completely lost my marbles here? I don't know, I'm not so sure about this chapter. Give me some feedback, kay? Till next chapter!
To Ocean Fish: Well, hello pookie to you too! No, seriously, how's my favorite pookie doing? It's been a long while since we've both updated hunh? Well, you are right, last chapter was what could be called a "filler" and I'm sorry to say that this one too. But, in all fairness, these little bridges between important passages of the story are quite necessary, at least if I want to get things right which, believe me I do. I'm just not sure I'm going about this the right way though… Oh well, all writers have doubts at one point or another, it's only natural. In answer to your question, no I have not read either of the manga you suggested: what are they about? If ever I were to actually become useful to society before graduating and decided on a part-time job, I think I wouldn't mind a library job: me and books, we understand each other. Till next time! And, as always, I'm very grateful for your feedback!
Okay readers, this is where I draw the line and decide to give myself a vacation from the keyboard, just for a little while…
Bye!!!
