Would you belong to me?

Misao wished desperately for a drink. Either that or a gag.

"Hajime Misao, are you listening to me?" Okita screeched. "You have some serious explaining to do, and I am not moving one centimeter until you speak to me!"

The younger girl sighed in irritation and simply twisted the volume dial, letting the loud bass drown out her brother's ranting. Her door continued to shake, however, signifying that Okita had not been discouraged in the least.

So be it. He had always been too stubborn for his own good. Like…like a dog and its bone. Like their father.

Like a wolf?

Misao fell back on her bed, the air gusting out of her lungs with a whoosh. She was, to say the least, confused. And frightened, though she would never admit that to anyone.

"Misao!"

Okita wanted an explanation? She smirked humorlessly. So would she, actually. Last night was a blur; another thing to add to the growing Twilight Zone list.

"Blacking out cannot be healthy," she muttered, disgusted. And the spells seemed to be occurring more frequently. Ever since... she shot up, eyes wide…ever since she had met Shinomori-san.

Even the thought of his name brought not only a fierce ache in her chest, but also a faint stirring in her mind, a shadow of memory that lurked just out of reach.

It was infuriating. Unacceptable. It was…

Misao was horrified to feel her eyes well up, and scrubbed furiously. Why the hell was she crying at a time like this?

Don't cry.

A soft murmur caught her attention and her head snapped up, eyes alight with embarrassment at being caught at such a weak moment.

"Who's--"

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, her mouth a grim line. There was no one there.

"I'm going insane," she whispered, not willing to face how much truth the statement could hold. "Blacking out, hearing voices." She tried to laugh, but only managed a brief, choked sound.

Misao.

She turned slowly, her breath trembling on suddenly pale lips. She held out an unsteady hand, long fingers outstretched. She sucked in a gasp as they met nothing but air.

Falling painfully to her knees, she looked up into eyes impossibly identical to her own. And screamed.

Kaoru shifted restlessly, eyes clamped shut in agitation as she managed to entangle herself further in the sweat dampened sheets. A brief whimper erupted from her lips, and her hands clenched and unclenched as tears trailed down her pale cheeks.

She hated to dream.

He looked so beautiful, standing framed in the doorway, crimson hair askew. She ached to reach out, but kept her hand at her side for fear of him vanishing like a specter if anything changed.

"What is it, Kaoru-dono?"

"Did you…do you," she paused, not bothering to curse her own sense of stupidity. "Kenshin, do you lo--"

"Kaoru-dono," His voice was higher than usual, bordering on something she would have likened to panic, if she could delude herself once again. "It is getting dark, de gozaru. Food! Dinner! Dinner must be--" Whatever else he would have said was lost to her as he disappeared to the sanctuary of the kitchen, leaving her staring at her hands with a bitter smile.

How stupid to hope for something so out of her reach.

Turning, she stiffened, meeting a sad, cruel smile. His eyes were pained behind tinted shades. He lifted a cold hand to her cheek. She felt rather than heard her name on his lips.

"Soon."

There was a white hot pain as his hand plunged inside to rip out her heart.

"You can wake up now, Kaoru."

She woke with a start, clutching at the sheets with a kind of panicked terror that clouded her eyes and blinded her. She dimly heard a voice calling her name over the dull roar in her ears, but was too far gone to care. Strong arms surrounded her, cradled her to a heat that nearly quieted the screams thundering throughout the haze. Kaoru welcomed the darkness with a sob.

Kenshin cradled the girl to his chest, absorbing her shudders and feeling the heat of her tears leaking into his shirt. A bitter smile crossed his pale face as he thought of the way she would react once she woke up the next morning. But after she passed out in his car, he found he couldn't just drop her at her house. Okita would kill him. And if the rumors were true about her father, Kenshin would probably welcome death.

Kaoru screamed then, a wretched sound that nearly brought tears to his own eyes. Her eyes opened for a tense moment, huge and black in her ashen face.

Your fault.

Yahiko's face floated in his mind, his youthful expression darkened with rage.

Your fault, Kenshin.

I didn't mean to, he thought. I would never…

My fault.

Her sobs only seemed to validate his thoughts and he clutched her closer. His whispered apology tasted bitter and inadequate on his lips.

I'm sorry.

Misao barely registered the sting that came when she fell to her knees. She couldn't hear her brother's shouts on the other side of the door.

All she could see was the transparent specter that stood before her.

But it was a dream, right? She giggled, not noticing that it sounded a bit hysterical. Maybe she drank a little too much last night and was having a hallucination.

Hello, little one.

Her eyes widened even further, and she fell back. It was real.

The…thing looked exactly like her, save for the odd outfit she wore. And why was she carrying knives?

She looked faintly amused, but the little smile didn't reach her eyes.

You haven't changed, I see. I'm glad that at least, in this life, it hasn't touched you.

"In…" her voice was rusted, as if she had not spoken for years. "In this life?"

There is much that you do not know. I would have had you not know them, if I could.

Misao could only stare as fingers ghosted across her forehead, surprisingly gentle.

"You look like me." It was almost an accusation, and she watched the smile spread across the pale face.

I am you.

She nodded slowly, wondering how her social life had been reduced to talking with ghosts.

Laughter echoed, disembodied, through the room.

Trust me, Misao-chan. Your social life is the least of your worries.

"You said that you would have had me not know them," Misao choked out. "Know what?"

The smile dimmed, and Misao was sorry for bringing it up.

You look so like me. And he looks like yesterday. A touch of wistfulness colored her words, and it hung, heavy, in Misao's heart. Does that mean that it is nearing the end?

"What..."

Be careful.

"Of what?"

She watched as the ghost of her smiled impishly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

No sense in repeating the past, ne?

"What?"

Should it surprise me, that after all of these eternities, he can still touch my heart?

She spoke in riddles. Misao could only watch the smile grow, the tears spill over. "Why are you sad?"

The smile vanished, and Misao was sorry to see it leave.

A kiss fluttered across her forehead, and Misao closed her eyes as her words whispered around her.

"MISAO!"

Startled, she could only gape at the pale face of her brother. Okita looked worried. Angry. Frustrated. Scared. She watched the emotions flicker across his face.

The ghost's last words chilled her, and she lunged forward, needing comfort. Her brother's arms locked around her, and Okita tried not to feel helpless as his youngest sister shuddered.

"Okita." Misao's voice sounded unnaturally serious. He smoothed her hair back from her flushed face, frowning as his hands touched her cheeks. She was burning up.

"Mi­-chan, what's the matter?"

"Okita." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I think…I think I need to go to a doctor."

At least, in this life, it hasn't touched you. Yet.

The shriek of the alarm sounded through the apartment, cutting off abruptly when a small hand knocked the purse off of the chair. The cell phone skidded across the floor, silent.

Kaoru opened one eye cautiously and nearly cursed when the movement sent shocks of pain through her temple. Resisting the urge to burrow deeper under the covers, she blearily recalled the previous night. Sanosuke had been cursing halfheartedly and calling her heavy—that tidbit she tucked away. Perhaps she had partaken in one red plastic up too many.

Okita was going to kill her.

Groaning and reluctantly lifting herself out of bed, she headed towards the hallway, only to end up pausing, uncertain. She saw a flash of red while she was caught up in her hazy musings, but turning too quickly only had the pain flare up into something nearly unbearable. And, good God, had there always been an extra door in her room?

Opening it revealed a bathroom, and too tired and sore to wonder how did that get there; she decided that a shower sounded like a splendid idea.

Kenshin pressed a shaking hand over a heart, wondering why the thing didn't just jump right out of his chest. She had almost seen him then.

"I'd rather have the screaming come after breakfast," he muttered. Perhaps if he offered a peace meal, she would refrain from hurting him once she came to her senses. Things never looked too dismal over bacon.

As the redhead mused over possible menus—how would Kaoru like her eggs?—a large BANG sounded through the apartment, shaking the furniture. A wave of fear paralyzed him, and he dimly registered the fact that his hand had nearly wrenched the brass knob off of the door in his shock.

Shishou was home.

Seijiro Hiko had always considered himself to be a patient, understanding, kind, handsome, compassionate man. But seeing that the door TO HIS OWN APARTMENT was locked and bolted shut certainly justified his nearly unhinging the door with his fist. Once inside, he gingerly set the grocery bags on the floor. He had ice cream, damn it.

"The moron tried to lock me out," he muttered, throwing open the freezer door. If any ice cream had melted, he would have to make the idiot clean it with his tongue. The idea brought an almost unholy smile of glee to his face.

His idiot of a nephew skidded out into the hall with a speed that he almost admired, and gaped at him with huge eyes.

Those things were turning odd colors as of late. It would be best to get him to an eye doctor.

"Uncle! I mean, Shishou! What are you doing here?"

Or a head doctor.

"What the hell are you whispering for, baka deshi?" Seijiro Hiko didn't believe in indoor voices. "And I happen to live here, moron. What are you thinking, locking me out?"

Kenshin frantically motioned for the (much) larger man to keep his voice down, shooting uneasy glances at the bedroom. As the older man was busy loading the refrigerator, Kenshin was effectively ignored.

Hiko slammed the door with more force than necessary, sneering at his nephew's terror. "What is the matter with you?" he asked.

At least he wasn't bellowing anymore. "Nothing! Nothing happened."

Kenshin winced. As if having a girl sleep over in his uncle's bed was nothing. As if having a voice in your head and a past life following you around was nothing.

"I have eyes in the back of my head, you know." Hiko stated as he poured a cup of milk. Kenshin had believed that until he was fifteen. "And I can smell fear."

Kenshin still believed that.

"Nothing's the matter! When are you leaving for work?"

One inky eyebrow quirked. "Are you trying to get rid of me, baka deshi?"

There was frantic hand waving involved in the younger man's denial, and Hiko smirked to himself. The boy looked kind of tired. Not that he was concerned. But maybe he would leave early so Kenshin could get some sleep.

Not that he was worried about him, Hiko mused. But if the idiot was too out of it tomorrow, he might not be a good sparring partner.

Still, his hand was surprisingly gentle as he clasped it on the boy's shoulder. "You don't have class today?"

"It's a Saturday."

Shrugging, he headed down the hall, pausing to grab a large towel from the linen closet. "I just came home for a second to drop off the groceries. I'm going soon." He didn't have to turn to see the boy slump over in relief, his crimson hair spilling out over the counter.

"…Just after I take a shower."

Kenshin grunted, tired. Lying took a lot out of a man. But at least now his uncle was leaving….

A shower, you idiot! A shower!

Violet eyes snapped open as a loud scream echoed throughout the apartment, followed by an audible splat.

Kenshin heard the footsteps trek back into the kitchen, and stared at his feet, wishing for the floor to swallow him. A subtle cough broke the ensuing silence.

He looked up.

Seijiro Hiko calmly pulled a wet towel off of his head and threw it to the side. It landed with a soft plop on the hardwood floor.

"I believe that there is something you failed to tell me."

Kaoru had apologized profusely to the behemoth that had accidentally walked in on her. Even though it was his fault that he had walked in on her changing, the man seemed to command it.

The redhead who was trying not to look like he was watching her was another story.

"What!" Kaoru was not known for her patience.

The boy jumped, startled, and started babbling. She caught words like orange juice and eggs.

"Yes, please." She assumed he was talking about breakfast. She didn't expect the kitchen to go silent on her.

"You understood that, girl?"

She smiled, her eyes glinting dangerously. "My name is Kaoru."

The man shrugged massive shoulders, and she tried not to be amused. "If you can understand Kenshin-babble, you must be made for each other."

The room fell silent again, tension nearly crackling in the air. Kenshin had bowed his head so his eyes were hidden behind the curtain of his bangs. Kaoru felt an inexplicable surge of anger well in her chest.

He has always been god at hiding.

If Hiko noticed, he—for once—didn't comment on it. Accepting another apology from Kaoru, booming at his nephew to be a man and talk to the girl, moron, he swept out of the apartment.

Kaoru stood, suddenly awkward in the ensuing stillness. "I should…"

"Eat." His face was still shadowed by his bangs, but he walked soundlessly to the refrigerator. "You look hungry, Kaoru-dono."

A stab of anger wrenched through her, and she sat down heavily eyes unseeing.

He puts distance between us, even nowThe words echoed through her mind, self-deprecating and sorrowful. He has haunted us throughout all of our lives, and he dares put distance between us?

Shadowed eyes. He had always hid from her. Kaoru shook her head, confused at the images. They seemed so familiar, and yet…

"Kenshin."

Startled, he looked up and met her eyes.

He looked so beautiful, standing there, peeking out from behind the door, crimson hair askew. Something inside yearned—just for an instant—to be able to reach out, but she kept her hand at her side for fear of the moment vanishing.

"What is it, Kaoru-dono?"

The scene was painfully reminiscent of something. Like a long forgotten dream.

"Kenshin, do you--"

"How do you like your eggs, Kaoru?"

She stared at him blankly, unsure of the fresh pain that was seeping through her chest. She nearly expected to turn and see a man with a shock of white hair.

He watched her with those strange eyes as she suddenly shook with laughter. The amber that ringed the violet began to seep in when he felt rather than saw her shoulders shake with tears. She didn't notice.

Fool.To think that this time would be any different.

"Kaoru-dono?" His voice trailed off, uncertain.

"I…" God, would this pain ever stop? "I would like some orange juice, please."

His whole body seemed to slump over in relief. "Of course!"

He turned from the refrigerator, carton in hand, and was not surprised to see her gone.

Fool.

Kaoru ran, fighting the urge to simply place her hands over her ears to block out the voice that sounded so achingly familiar. If passerby noticed the tears on her cheeks, they made no move to help, and Kaoru was grateful.

What was going on?

She fumbled for her cell phone before realizing that it wasn't in her purse. She must have left it at Kenshin's apartment. Cursing briefly, she made a detour and punched the number for her brother's cell phone in the payphone.

When her twin's voice blared through the receiver, she closed her eyes and nearly kissed the mouthpiece.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, YOUNG LADY!"

"Ni-chan, calm down."

"I'M NOT GOING TO CALM DOWN! YOU'RE MISSING AND MISAO--"

Kaoru felt something icy settle in her stomach. Her brother's voice had broken on the last syllable. "What's wrong with Misao?"

For once, her twin had nothing to say.

"Okita!" Kaoru ignored the stares she was getting from passerby, hunching over and cradling the heavy receiver. The feeling of dread was suffocating. "What's wrong with Misao?"

He sighed, and she could see his shoulders drop in her mind. "She just went to the hospital."

Whatever else he meant to say went unheard. The receiver hung, lifeless, the harsh tones of a disconnected call sounding through the small booth.

The door seemed to loom in front of her, threatening. Which was absurd, she reminded herself, fighting the equally insane urge to just run and never stop. She had acted on impulse, finding his address in the phonebook, ripping out the page before Okita had even broken the news. She had known that something was wrong. But now…she was unsure.

Don't you want to know? He had asked her that, and the memory effectively straightened her shoulders. Something was wrong. She had to know. With only the faintest foreboding, she raised her hand to knock. The foreboding swelled into a darker fear once the door swung open.

You can never escape me, Kaoru. I love you. I'll wait for you. Love waits.

"Kaoru. I've been waiting."

She looked up into turquoise eyes and wondered belatedly if she wasn't making the worst mistake of her life.

"Hello, Enishi."

Would you let me belong to you?