Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, vaginal penetration


Chapter 27. Secrets

Two days later, they got a new visitor.

Kenshin was entertaining the kids in the yard while Tomoe fixed them all something to drink. The kids had showed up early today. Well, no wonder – in the middle of winter their duties at home were limited, especially as snow had yet to arrive. However, while Kenshin couldn't say he minded looking after the kids, he was somewhat curious about what Tomoe was up to.

She was taking rather long.

And come to think of it, yesterday in the village she had mentioned with a certain spark in her eye that she had plans for how they should celebrate the New Years.

Was this about that?

Kenshin grinned helplessly, an almost anticipatory tension gathering in his belly. Good food, some sake to soften the mood – those were most likely in her plans for tonight, and after that? They had been building towards the next step in their intimacy for a long time. Maybe tonight, they would finally take that last leap into the unknown?

Stop it, idiot, and focus!

He shook his head, struggling to pay attention to Ichirou's and Noburou's playful boasting. They were holding sticks in their hands with grips that bore little resemblance to the real deal, but at least the boys seemed to enjoy pretending they were famous swordsmen. However, he wouldn't have picked pretending they were Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku in their mighty quest to defeat the horrendous leader of the Shinsengumi, Kondo Isami. Because, logically, as the adult, he had to play the bad guy…

Kenshin sighed, and with a slightly martyred expression, fended off the boys' enthusiastic flurry of strikes. They tried their very best, but they had no real form and the speed of their attacks was lessened by excessive and highly inefficient movements. It didn't take much for him to track their actions simultaneously and block them. After all, while he wasn't all that good at ambidextrous fighting, he had been forced to draw his wakizashi and defend himself in tight spots often enough.

At a distance he sensed a new presence approaching, but he couldn't bring himself to be wary. The presence was small, focused, but there was a sense of uncertainty to it that suggested youth. A new kid coming to play, perhaps? He had met most of the kids in the neighborhood often enough to recognize them, and this presence didn't belong to any of them, but then again, this kid could easily be from the village.

Then he saw the source of the ki presence: a young boy, about ten or so years old, staring intensely at them from the roadside, his fists clenched tight by his sides.

Kenshin hadn't ever seen the boy before, not in the village, not in the neighborhood. It was somewhat perplexing. He had thought he knew most of the people living here and the boy was so young – he couldn't have come far.

Kichirou and Noburou noticed his inattention and turned to look, too. Their curiosity was catching; even Aimi-chan and her friends stopped with their game with the ball.

"Who is that?" Kenshin asked, careful to keep his voice light.

"I don't know," the oldest of the kids, Ichirou, took it upon himself to answer, a thoughtful tone to his voice. "He is not from the village."

"Maybe he wants to play with us?" Aimi-chan suggested, but she too was a bit hesitant.

"I'll go ask him!" Ichirou declared.

There was no hesitation in that boy, not even when it came to strangers. Kenshin shook his head. Maybe it was better this way. With his strange colors, he was somewhat intimidating at first, for most kids. He didn't hear what Ichirou said to the strange boy, but for some reason the boy got angry. His ki flared, and without further warning, he snarled, threw back his fist and hit Ichirou in the face.

"Hey!" Kenshin shouted in alarm, rushing forward to break them apart before things could get worse.

Why on earth would he hit Ichirou like that?

Sure, Ichi could be a bit too enthusiastic at times, just like all of their neighbor's kids, but he couldn't have said anything that merited resorting to physical blows!

However, when Kenshin finally pulled the snarling boys apart, the strange boy didn't even hesitate, biting down on his hand like a wild cat.

"Atatata!" Kenshin half-gasped, half-grunted, trying desperately not to unleash his curse words. There were children present, after all. But, damn… that hurt!

"Enishi?!" Tomoe's breathless voice pierced through the haze of pain. "Enishi, is that you?"

And the wild cat of a kid tensed all of a sudden and wrenched himself loose from Kenshin's hold, shouting happily, "Sister!"

No way, no way in the eight great hells… A shiver ran down Kenshin's spine, as if in premonition, as he watched the wild cat of a child run into his wife's arms and hug her with all his might.

Tomoe knelt, hugging the boy back, murmuring soothing words into his ear. Her ki stormed with shades of freezing coldness and warmth, the feeling becoming something far more intense than either of them alone. As she gathered the boy in her arms, it felt like she was shielding him from all harm with the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her cub. Cross this line and you will pay dearly, her ki seemed to promise to anyone who could sense it.

This has to be a dream, a waking nightmare of some kind. Anything but reality, Kenshin thought dazedly as his wife stood up, drawing her arm around the boy and inviting them both inside for introductions.

Apparently, this boy, this Enishi-kun, was Tomoe's brother.

Kenshin didn't need to hear her words to see the fierce love shining in her eyes. No, despite the suddenness, the sheer implausibility of this encounter stumbling into his lap, this boy was his wife's brother and even if he was a bad-tempered, ill-mannered, wild cat of a child, he was family.

Tomoe's eyes were so hopeful, as she met his gaze. Clearly, she desperately wanted them to get along.

"Your brother…" Kenshin swallowed, struggling to ignore the hesitation born out of his terrible first impression of the boy, and the flicker of jealousy twisting his gut like an insidious illness. Sweat gathering on his brow, he smiled and decided to start anew. After all, he was a man and it was his job to set a good example and welcome the boy into their household properly.

He stepped forward and murmured, "Yes, now that you mention it, you two have the same eyes." And just like Master had done to him, he reached out to ruffle the boy's hair – to offer an adult, accepting gesture that had often soothed away his own worries and fears.

The kid's eyes smoldered and before he managed to touch him, Enishi bit him again.

"Ugrh," Kenshin grunted, hissing in pain. Damn, what the hell is wrong with this kid?! Blinking tears of pain from his eyes, he saw that the boy had again rushed into the protection of Tomoe's arms.

Tomoe looked at Kenshin sadly, giving a pointed look at the door.

The hint was obvious.

"You probably have lots of things to talk about. I'll wait outside." Kenshin grimaced, turning to leave as he shook off the lingering twitches of pain in his hand. Never before had he felt like as much of an outsider in his own home as at that moment, with Enishi's proud eyes lingering on him, making sure he left even as Tomoe knelt to console him.

Without looking back, Kenshin walked out of the door.


That boy, Enishi… he hates me.

It was an irrational thought, Kenshin knew. Just like the jealousy brewing in the pit of his stomach was utterly stupid, childish, and far beneath the man he tried to be. Tomoe hadn't seen her brother in ages. Of course she wanted to make sure the boy was alright. Of course they wanted some time alone.

Yet, he couldn't quite stop glancing at the quiet house and the door that stood between them, an impenetrable wall that cast him out of his home. Even if he concentrated, he couldn't make out anything more than an inaudible murmur coming from the house, that was easily drowned out by the gleeful shouts and gasps of the neighbors kids as they returned to their play in the yard.

Idly, he rubbed the swelling, round bruise forming on the back of his hand. The brat had bit down with enthusiasm.

Another shared trait between the siblings, he noted with a certain wry humor, before sighing loudly. Somehow, he didn't know how, he would have to bury his feelings and try his best to be as accepting and kind as possible to the brat.

If for no other reason, then for Tomoe's sake.

His beautiful, wonderful wife was the steadying presence in his life, the rock he leaned against whenever things got too much. Of course, she would want the brat to live with them. Given how Enishi had sought them out alone, he most likely didn't have anyone else to look after him, either. After all, it was beyond the pale for a boy so young to travel alone.

How far away did he come from, anyway?

Kenshin frowned. For the longest time, he had assumed Tomoe was like him, that she had no family to speak of. But what if she had run away from home? He knew so little of her past, only bits and pieces that formed a very imperfect image, but he had accepted it, knowing that speaking of it made her sad. But if she had a younger brother, were there more relatives she had left behind?

How many more surprises would he come across?

Especially since the brat – no, Enishi – was so much younger than her… No, stop thinking too far ahead. She will tell you in her own time, you know that.

Speaking of which, how had Enishi even found them? No one but Katsura-san and Iizuka-san was even supposed to know about this house. Well, Tomoe had gone to the village alone a lot in the beginning, but she wouldn't have sent letters. She knew just as well as he did how important it was that they stay hidden. Besides, she had been surprised when she saw her brother. Her voice, it had been almost breathless with shock – incredulous, even.

"Kenshin-san! Kenshin-san, what's wrong? Are you hurt badly?" Aimi-chan shouted at him, her eyes full of worried curiosity.

"Oh sorry, I'll be right there with you." He smiled, pushing his troubles and growing disappointment aside. After all, while he might not be able to make much sense of this mess, he had a sinking feeling that the New Year's fun had been canceled.


As the sun started to set, Kenshin escorted the kids home. Partly, to clear his head a bit before trying again with Enishi... but he had also wanted to apologize to Midori-san and Kichirou-san on Enishi's behalf. If Tomoe's brother was going to be living with them, it was only right that they try their best to patch things up with the neighbors.

Ichirou had developed a rather sizable bump on his temple where Enishi had hit him, but it didn't seem all that dangerous of an injury. Kenshin had weathered his own share of bumps and bruises when he had trained with Master and he had a fair bit of knowledge when it came to these things. However, just to be sure, he checked on the swollen skin once more despite Ichirou's protests – the boy kept saying that he was fine, that it didn't hurt at all.

Kenshin had his doubts about the validity of that claim. His hand was still smarting rather badly, and he had seen how much force Enishi had packed into the strike. However, if Ichirou wanted to dismiss his pain and show a brave face in front of his siblings, who was he to dissuade him?

After all, they had been playing brave warriors and no matter how silly it was, the boys had been insisting on acting like the heroes in their stories. It had been strange to realize how fast the years had flown by. It hadn't been that long ago that he had entertained similar thoughts, but now… now he knew that heroics were not nearly as black and white as the stories made them out to be.

Midori-san's disapproval had been obvious when he explained what had happened.

Kichirou-san, however, had dismissed it as "boys being boys" and told him to forget it, that it hadn't been his fault, even if the ill-tempered child had turned out to be his relative.

Aimi-chan and the boys had been quite vocal about their desire to come over to play the next day, too.

Kenshin consented to the idea with some reluctance, reminding them that they should try to welcome Enishi into their play. Maybe they had just started off on the wrong foot and it would only take a little work for them to befriend the boy?

With their best wishes in tow, Kenshin left for home.

However, instead of meeting the boy at the house, eating dinner with him and Tomoe as he had thought – he saw Enishi glaring at him at the crossroads on the way to their house. His eyes shining with tears, the boy spat out angrily, "You! If only you hadn't been there!"

Kenshin didn't get the chance to say one word before Enishi ran off, leaving him to stare after him, feeling utterly and thoroughly at loss. He had assumed the boy would be staying with them for good…. Should he chase after him? But then again, what good would it do? Enishi had a problem with him, that was obvious. Most likely, he would only make things worse if he tried to force Enishi to talk to him.

Yet, a boy so young and so angry…

Well, Tomoe had let him leave. Perhaps, it meant Enishi had his family or someone he depended on waiting for him?

Yes, that makes sense.

However, Kenshin couldn't help feeling curious when he arrived home. He noticed Tomoe intently writing in her diary, her ki feeling colder than it had in ages.

"Hey..." he started hesitantly, wetting his lips. "Where is Enishi going?"

She slammed her diary shut, spinning around like a startled deer. Her eyes widened, fear and even panic flashing in her dark eyes.

What..? Why would she… Kenshin gaped, frozen in shock. What could have made her so scared? She was never scared! He swallowed dryly and then, trying to make his voice as calm as possible, he asked, "What is it?"

"Um…."

…Is that guilt in her eyes?

"Enishi…" she hesitated, "...is going back to Edo."

"To Edo?" Kenshin stared. That's, that's… almost 350 miles. She left her family and traveled that far? Why?

"Ah… well, you were probably wondering about me," she whispered, looking aside, her fingers trailing over the worn covers of her diary. "I never told you. Up till now, I thought I wouldn't have to speak about past at all. But maybe… this is a good chance for us to talk."

It felt wrong to see her so uncertain, to notice how she avoided his eyes.

She shouldn't feel so cold, look so distant, like she was building up the wall around her heart anew. Whatever had happened, whatever words had been exchanged… she, of all people, should never feel guilty.

It wasn't right.

She was innocent, pure… in a manner he could never be. Kenshin exhaled softly and walked over to her, taking her hand into his own and squeezing it comfortingly. "Later. Please, don't be so sad – I can wait as long as you need."

Finally, her eyes met his and she nodded gratefully.

He smiled shyly, a surety rising in his chest that he had made the right choice. It didn't matter whatever would come, whatever had brought this sadness to her… because he would be there for her, just like she had always been there for him. No matter how bad of a storm was coming, they could handle it together.


They ate dinner in silence.

Her cooking was delightful as always and he enjoyed it without insisting on conversation. He could give her all the space she needed to collect herself and her thoughts before broaching painful topics. After all, her calm manner was what had allowed her to survive whatever horrors she had run away from.

It couldn't be easy to be reminded of that time, as he knew all too well. His past was also full of darkness. It was easier to let such troubles lie.

With practiced motions, she collected the dishes and started to prepare the tea.

He rose to his feet, moving towards the doorway to take a look outside. Huh…?

"No wonder it was so cold – it's snowing. It will cover the ground by morning," he murmured thoughtfully, soothed by the sight. He had waited for snow to arrive for so long and finally, it was here. They would be safe until it melted, no doubt about that.

Yet, despite his relief at the realization, he couldn't help but feel uneasy at the tenseness between them, the coldness in her ki, the sadness in her eyes.

No. Now was not the time to delight over such a simple thing as snowfall.

"I told you before that my family is from Edo," Tomoe began softly, keeping her voice calm and light – cool, almost emotionless. "There were three of us, my father, my brother and me. We lived peacefully. We weren't so well off that we had money to spare, but we went never hungry. My father knew nothing of the martial or scholarly arts, but he was a kind and loving man, good to his family and his neighbors."

She settled to sit by the fire, cradling her tea in her hands. But her eyes held such sorrow, like he had never seen before. But why would her family be so hurtful a topic? This was nothing he hadn't already come to suspect about her. After all, he had always known her to be of good name and origins. The samurai class had an abundance of families like hers.

"My mother was kind too, but she was always delicate, and of ill health.. She died shortly after Enishi was born. Enishi never knew her – I always took care of him. He came to love me as he would her…" Her voice wavered slightly, "He has a tendency to judge people harshly and he can get a little out of hand, but he is a good boy. When my engagement was announced, he threw a tantrum. That's the worst he has ever been."

Engagement…? Kenshin froze, his heat skipping a beat. She was engaged? She was in love with someone else?

Jealousy twisted in his gut, squeezing his throat tight and for an agonizingly long moment it was impossible to breathe. He closed his eyes and did his best to stomp down the feeling. She was his wife now. And even before, when they had met, she had been so sad and alone… obviously something terrible must have happened.

She fell silent, preparing the tea for him with graceful movements, before offering it to him. "Here."

The teacup felt warm in his hands, but there was no comfort in the familiar scent, not now. Without tasting it, he put it aside, laying it on top of the cupboard.

She avoided his gaze. Her whole form was tense, shrouded behind manners and the walls around her heart. Her hands clutched the hem of her kimono, the only clear indicator of her distress as she drew breath, "My fiance was the second son of a similar family. He was a childhood friend. Like my father, he wasn't accomplished, but he was kind and hardworking. At the time, I loved him very much and when he chose me, I was very happy."

Her eyes rose to search for his, and it made his heart ache for her.

He wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms and promise that it was okay now, that it was all in the past, that he had her now and forever. But he couldn't, not yet, not when sadness was like poison in her soul and she was letting it out, allowing him to share her burden for the very first time.

"Even though I was so happy, all I could do was look at him in amazement. No matter how I hate it, I can hardly smile. Maybe that's why… I never told him how happy I was." She paused to look aside. Her lips twisted into a grimace as she lowered her voice, speaking somebody else's words like they pained her. "If the second son of a samurai cannot make you happy, I will at least be known as a warrior of repute, he told me. He postponed our wedding and joined the Kyoto Mimawarigumi, entering the chaos of Kyoto. And he… never returned. I didn't wait for the news to come to me. I left for Kyoto as well."

She looked up, locking her eyes with his intently, like she was willing him to see, to understand. "He died, in a far away place that I didn't know. The happiness I should have had… it died with him."

Her ki was so cold, colder than a midwinter's frost, but her eyes, her eyes were sad and furious and bewildered all at once, like she was lost in her grief and he was her lifeline back. It was too much, there was such a terrible weight on his chest and he didn't know how to help, how to make it better. There were no words that he could offer to ease her suffering, not against hurt like this.

"But maybe…" She paused, a shaky hiccup tearing its way past her reserve. Her eyes glimmered for a second, before her tears began to flow freely. "Maybe it was really my fault. If I had cried then, and tried to stop him…"

And finally Kenshin knew what he had to do. He didn't even stop to think, he just swept her into his arms, catching her weight as she fell like a broken doll with all its threads cut loose. She buried her face in his neck and cried without remorse, her sobs racking through her body, her tears seeping into his kimono.

It was terrible thing to listen to, but he cradled her head, stroking her hair and whispering comforting nonsense into her ear. "It's all right. It's all right now." The words didn't matter. He closed his eyes and let her cry, offering her whatever comfort he could, no matter how small it was. "Shh. It's alright. It's alright."

It was good to cry, to let out the hurt she had been harboring inside her all this time… like bleeding an old wound of poison, he thought. No matter how much it hurt to listen, to know how much she had suffered, carrying this grief alone...

No more, he swore.

When the sobs finally slowed to nothing more than exhausted sniffles, he leaned down to gently kiss her brow.

She wiped her eyes and her runny nose on her tear-stained sleeve, before tiredly leaning against his shoulder, seeking the simple comfort he offered.

She felt heavy against his side, but he bore her weight without complaint. Not even the prickly feeling in his fingers as his circulation was cut off justified asking her to move. No, he would be there for her, as long as she needed him. He kissed her brow again, slower, letting his lips linger as he stroked her hair.

After a while, when she didn't seem quite so wrung out, she lifted her hand to trace his scarred cheek, turning his face so she could kiss him on the lips.

It wasn't a nice kiss.

It was desperate, intense… it almost hurt. But he allowed it and returned it without question. If she asked it of him, he would give her anything, everything.

Maybe she just needed to forget the past for a moment.

Her hands wrapped around him as she continued to rain ferocious, hungry, messy kisses on his lips. He slipped his hands into her hair and returned them, leaning in to explore her mouth deeper, drinking her taste, heady desire awakening in him.

She drew him down further and right then, breathing didn't matter, hurt, desperation, the past – nothing mattered. There was nothing but her, solid and real in his arms, the heat of the moment, their wet kisses and the way she molded herself into his every touch, desperate to get closer to him.

When she slipped her hands under his kimono, he didn't protest. He merely returned the favour, tugging her top loose to access her breasts.

There was no need for words.

He leaned down to suckle those milky globes, delighting in her soft moans.

When her hand slipped down to stroke his aching length, he didn't shy away – he merely grunted, letting her relieve the painful pressure gathering there as the liquid fire crawled in his veins. He buried his face in the valley of her breasts, trailing desperate kisses across her skin, moving upwards until he got high enough to lick the side of her neck. All the while she stroked him maddeningly.

It was close, so very close, just a little bit and then—

"Ahh, Tomoe!" he gasped softly, like singing praise to a goddess, as she brought him over the edge.

She kissed him hard, drowning out the words that bubbled on his lips. With her tear-stained sleeve, she wiped at the mess spreading on his lap.

He felt no shame – it wasn't the time for that. No, despite the lassitude threatening to sink into his bones, he, or she... he didn't know who, maybe they decided together, but they rose to pull her futon out from the corner of the room and rolled it open.

It was a relief to fall on the bedding, to feel her soft curves against the hard planes of his chest and his bony hips as they shared desperate kisses, hurried motions and strokes, shedding what remained of their clothes, trying to get as close as possible to one another. Drinking in each other's breaths, they tried to feel as much as they could of each other's skin… there was no time to think, only feel as they moved through these age old steps, this dance as old as men and women.

Their skin was covered in sweat, but it didn't feel cold, even if it should have. The heat they shared was unbearably hot and when he again found her breasts, it was natural to suck on them, to slip his free hand down across her stomach, trail his fingers down through the thatch of curly hair to feel the soft folds and the pliable, wet heat of her cavern.

He pumped his fingers in and out, in and out, to give her the relief she yearned for.

She mewled and moaned under his ministrations, liquid fire burning inside her. Her pants became deeper, harsher, and her eyes sought his as she begged, "More! I need you – inside. Please, Kenshin—"

There was no time to question, to think… He settled between her legs, fumbling to position his hardening length to her hole—

And then he was in.

Oh gods! The heat! The warmth! It was all around him and it was too much, so much better than he had ever dared to imagine! He pushed in deeper, feeling a slight barrier give in and then he was inside her all the way to the hilt and oh gods, how it felt!

She gasped and grunted, as if struggling to adjust – so he stopped, trying to collect himself against the overwhelming sensations, seeking her eyes for approval.

Her eyes were red from all the crying, tear tracks having dried on her flushed cheeks, but her ki was warm. And though there was a certain wildness to her gaze, her lips were parted in soft pants… and then she whispered, "Please."

It was just one word, but that's all it took.

He had to move. He knew he had to give her what she wanted… and he knew what to do. It was so familiar, like he had always known how to do this. It was in his spine – an instinct. So he pushed in and drew out a bit, before pushing in deep, repeating it time and time again. There was nothing elegant or controlled about it. It was hurried and desperate and utterly perfect.

It felt so good and so natural to move his hips like this, like he was born to do this.

She gasped and moaned so, like she knew this too. Like she, too, enjoyed this, just as much she had enjoyed the other things they had shared.

In and out, in and out he moved, his breath growing deeper, sweat flowing down his back as the moment stretched for an eternity. She arched her back, drawing her legs tight around his hips, pulling him in deeper as she moaned, her hands tightening on her bedding. Her breasts jiggled, her eyes seeking his, and then a shiver racked through her form and her cavern pulsed around his flesh just so, and she gasped, "Ah, ah – Kenshiiin."

Oh, gods, does she even know how beautiful she is like that? He grinned foolishly, pride rising in him at the sight. He had just made her come. She had come and he was still hard. He pushed inside her again – feeling her slippery wetness against the pulsing, throbbing mess that was his length.

Oh yes, he was still hard.

So, so, hard.

He closed his eyes for a second and groaned low. Oh, he never wanted this moment to end. Yet the ache in his loins was growing, becoming impossible to ignore. He was tense, so tense and the liquid fire was alive in his veins, almost forcing his movements. He leaned closer to her, pushed deeper inside her, searching for something, anything to relieve the ache that was building inside him.

He moaned, shuddering – all but sobbing as he kept pushing, in and out, in and out. It was too much. The pressure, the heat, the wet warmth all around him, it was all too much and then, the string of sanity that he had been holding on to snapped, the liquid fire bursting through his length into her – and for a second, for one blessed flash of a moment all he could feel was the peaceful emptiness it left in its wake.

He fell to lie on top of her gentle curves, in the safety of her embrace.

His throat felt hoarse, like he had shouted his joy to the world, but that couldn't be true. He just hadn't been able to help the sounds that bubbled past his lips, that's all. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled the column of her throat, drawing in the faint scent of white plum perfume lingering there.

Her hand reached up to tenderly stroke his hair and his sweaty back.

It felt so safe.

How long they lay there, just trying to catch their breath, to anchor the world back into place, he couldn't say.

But when he finally realized that he was lying on top of her with his whole weight, he instantly slipped off. Pulling his softening length from between her legs – it felt like leaving home, so comfortable had he been there – she rewarded him with a faint, relieved sigh, which meant much more to him than his own comfort as he settled to lie beside her.

Her face was a mess.

Actually, she was a mess all over – but so was he.

He reached out to stroke her hair. Her beautiful dark eyes turned to him and warmth bloomed in his chest, a feeling that had no other name but love.

He smiled, "Hey, there."

There was no hint of sadness or grief in her eyes. No, all that poison had left her and she was calm, at ease in the afterglow with him.

"Thank you," she whispered, after a small pause.

Kenshin trailed his fingers down her cheek, to her chin. "We are a mess."

The corner of her mouth lifted in answer – not a true smile, but telling enough. Neither of them was exactly fine yet, but they weren't broken anymore, either.

Sometime after, the drying stickiness on their skin forced them to get up. Kenshin remade the fire and with some grumbling pulled the door open enough to scoop a couple bucketfuls of fresh snow inside. It was really quite cold outside, he noted. The snow was falling heavily and already over a handspan covered the ground.

Tomoe melted the snow in the kettle to use as bathwater.

In the soft light of the waning fire, they washed, taking care of each other. It was a comfortable routine, calming, even nice.

It felt good.

Afterwards they dressed and leaned against the wall side by side, to stare at the fire, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other's presence in silence.

Idly, he started to think on her words, the past she had brought up. She had suffered so much, lost everything she had because of the rebellion, and worse, her fiance and her family had been on the Bakufu's side.

But in the madness of Kyoto, wasn't it true that both the rebels and those that supported the Bakufu were merely following their own beliefs?

It felt natural to voice his thoughts in this silence, to reason it out – his hopes and his choices and the reality of war he had come to understand all too late.

"A little more than a year ago, I quarreled with my Master and left him because I wanted to protect the happiness of the people. I wanted to end the conflict and start a new era… that's why I joined the Choshuu Ishin Shishi and became Hitokiri Battousai." He paused to draw breath, wetting his lips. "I believed that I could make a difference with Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, but in reality… it wasn't that simple. I killed and killed, without bringing the new era one step closer. I was just a murderer. I buried my feelings, but somewhere in my consciousness, the hazy smell of blood was never far away."

It was a terrible thing to realize that it had played out just as Master had said to him back then: he had become a common murderer. That just like the people had said about him, he had been falling into insanity.

Tomoe's eyes were calm, unassuming. She was simply listening and being there for him, instead of judging him or scorning him.

"That was when I met you. Your questions pierced the haze around me. My half-lost sanity returned to me."

If not for her, he truly didn't know how he could have survived the chaos of the summer, when the haze of blood had never been far from him. He paused, eyes widening in realization. There was no smell of blood here, only her scent. The faint, feminine white plum perfume she liked to wear.

"For the first time, I understood the seriousness of people's many different kinds of happiness. No matter how grand the Hiten Mitsurugi is, no matter how I tried to use my skills, no man can change an era alone. And he certainly cannot bear the burden of other's happiness alone… The only thing he can do is protect the happiness of the people he sees before him, one by one. But before that… "

But before he could do that, well, there was still the matter of Katsura-san's vision. He still believed in it. He had given his word and no matter how it hurt, he still believed in the Ishin Shishi's cause. So for that cause, he had no choice but to be a murderer, a hitokiri until the day that the new era was achieved.

After all, too many people had died for the dream of a better future.

If he abandoned the cause now, those lives he had taken would have no meaning – they would become nothing but senseless murders.

No. No matter what, he would have to push forward and pave a way for the new world, even if he had to bury his heart in the process.

The resolve sunk deep, echoing in the abandoned recesses of his soul.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. "But when we reach the new age… Maybe this is foolish of me, but I want to find a way to protect others without taking lives. I want to find a way to atone for the crime of stealing other people's happiness with my own hands."

It felt right.

Kenshin turned to look at her, whispering gently, "Tomoe…"

"Yes?"

"The happiness you lost once in this violence… this time, I will protect it for you." He reached for her hand and smiled softly, his eyes pleading to her: Please let me protect you, today and tomorrow and ever more. Please, let me keep you safe – so that you never, ever again have to hurt like this again.

Her dark eyes widened, but she nodded, a slight pink blush rising to her cheeks.

"Yes."

And then, he saw the most beautiful sight in his life: her smile, full and unreserved.

They stayed side by side until their eyelids drooped and yawns arose. And then, for some reason, it was the easiest thing in the whole world to lie down beside her and relax, to face the lull of dreams at her side.

And that night, for the first time, they slept together – like two lost souls who had reached out and found each other at last.


A strange feeling tingling at the edge of his senses awakened him. It was a flicker in ki, so faint that it was barely even there, and already moving away. It didn't feel threatening, so he just turned on his side and sighed deeply, snuggling deeper into the warm cocoon of blankets around him. It felt so nice to lie here, feeling so utterly content. The bed was soft, he was warm and relaxed all the way to his bones.

Last night had been trying, but together he and Tomoe had won, had overcome the past sadness, hadn't they?

Yes, we won. He smiled, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent, spread all over her pillow and blanket. We won and then, we joined together as a husband and wife, at long last.

It had been so good that there were no words to describe it.

Never before had he felt so accepted, so thoroughly loved.

He sighed wistfully, turning onto his back, drawing his arm over his face to ward off the sunlight.

He didn't want to get up, not yet.

No matter how late in the morning it was, this was the first time he had slept in a bed with her and he wanted to savor the experience… but damn, the thin rays of sunlight pouring in from the window blinds drawn shut were really quite annoying.

Kenshin pouted.

With a shiver, he drew his hand back under the blankets. It was cold in the house – a bit too cold, really. His breath misted slightly in the cool air. Hadn't Tomoe dared to make a fire yet?

Maybe she, too, had slept longer than she intended?

Lazily, Kenshin turned to look beside him, but the spot where she had lain was empty.

So, she is already awake? But it's too silent…

A shiver of alarm raced down his spine at the thought and he concentrated, trying to feel her familiar ki presence.

Nothing.

Without a second thought, he was up from the bed.

Tomoe, where is she?

There was no reason for her to go outside, no reason at all for her to leave the house. But she wasn't inside, that became clear in seconds. Her kimono, where was her kimono? She usually neatly folded it and placed it on top of the clothes chest for the night, but now, it wasn't there. Her wooden clogs were not by the door, either.

Kenshin didn't pause to dress or put on his shoes before dashing out of the door.

The ground was covered with over two hand-spans worth of pure white snow… and in the snow, there was a trail of footprints leading away from the house.

She left?

Where?

Why would she leave without telling me?

With barefeet slipping on the trail he ran, following the footprints – until he got to the road, where they melded together with many others on the popular route.

Oh gods, why would she leave?

The sun was high – it was already near noon. How had he managed to sleep this late? How had he managed to miss her leaving?

Where would you go, Tomoe?!

His pulse was beating so fast that he couldn't hear anything but its drumming in his ears. He tried to breathe. In and out, just keep breathing, he told himself to master the panic.

If, if she really left…

No! She can't have left. She wouldn't! Not without telling me, not without a very good reason!

Kenshin paced, desperately trying to make sense of the messy trail on the road, to find a clue of some sort – but there were too many sets of footprints: geta sandals, straw sandals, large and small all melding together in the soft, new snow.

Oh gods, oh gods – I don't even know which direction she chose!

His bare feet were starting to freeze and he was shivering, rubbing his yukata clad arms in vain. It was far too cold. His teeth were starting to chatter when he finally headed back, tracing her steps carefully, trying to think. He would have felt it if anyone had come near their house. He was a very light sleeper. He had always been. No matter how tired, how safe he had been last night, he wouldn't have been able to ignore any foreign presences coming near them…

But there had been a presence, hadn't there?

And I woke up to it…

Kenshin swallowed, dread twisting his gut and then he saw it. In front of their house, on the wooden log he used to chop firewood, there was a letter held in place by a small stone.

Hesitantly he reached for the thick, still dry paper and unfolded it.

It was a map.

And there, in the right corner, were neatly written words: "We have lured her into a trap. If you want to see her again – come. Come to us before her time runs out."

It felt like someone grabbed his heart in a tight grip and squeezed it. Bile rose in his mouth, flooding his tongue.

Tomoe. Lured into a trap. To see her again…

A red haze fogged his vision, a veil of fury so strong, so overpowering that for a second he couldn't even think. His ki gathered, like a snake coiling tight inside him and exploded outwards.

The spirit inside him roused from its deep sleep and for the first time in months, it rattled against the wall, ready and willing to –

But his anger was stronger. Why would he need the spirit? No, with this red hot fury driving him, he didn't need coldness and apathy, the numbness he had used to survive the agony of an assassin's life. No, for Tomoe – to save her from these bastards who had dared to lured her into a trap and threaten her life, he would kill.

He would kill them all without a second thought.

The words on the map echoed inside his skull. Tomoe. Trap. Protect her. Her time running out.

Her time.

Running out.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, focusing his ki and struggling to pull it back under his control. Yes, just like that. Now was not to time lash out, no – that would come when he found the bastards who took his wife. He would kill them all and make sure that for every hurt she had suffered, they would pay back tenfold. But first, he had to find them and conveniently, the idiots had left him a map.

The bastards had no idea what they had awoken.

I will find her and bring her back.

Kenshin opened his eyes slowly, staring at the deep gouges in the snow, the frozen ground, some of them reaching high enough to even cut into the wall of the their house. He couldn't bring himself to be surprised. After all, ki was a dangerous weapon. Double so, unleashed like that.

How very fitting.

It didn't take long for him to change into his fighting gear. His worn-down kimono and hakama, the old, worn gauntlets Master had gifted him years ago, and finally – his swords. It felt natural to slip his short, fancy wakizashi and his longer katana side by side into his sash.

The place the bastards had taken her was deep in the mountains. Some ten miles or so, if he read the map right. It wouldn't be an easy trek in this deep snow, made heavy and slippery by the sun.

How had they lured her into a trap? What did they have that she had no choice but to go?

Kenshin paused in thought.

She wouldn't have gone for a small reason. And yesterday, she had been so tense, so sad. Enishi, too had been crying, hadn't he? What had they spoken of?

Had they threatened someone in her family?

Or could it be…

Enishi had run off yesterday. And if these men had wanted to set a trap, the boy would have been an easy target to pick up.

Damn, damn, damn… I should have followed him!

Kenshin grimaced, sitting down on the edge of the firepit to pull on an extra pair of socks to cover his freezing feet, strapping his sandals tightly around them. Sandals weren't ideal in the snow, but they were sure better than nothing.

But for what reason had those bastards targeted Tomoe or her family? The Yukishiros didn't have much money, nor prestige or powerwell, at least to his knowledge. So why would she be a target?

…But what if, she wasn't?

It made no sense for these bastards to attack her for her own sake, he realized, his heart skipping a beat. No, this is all for me.

It's a trap for me.

They used the boy to lure Tomoe to them, then the threat to her to lure me. They want me to come into their territory.

But realizing the extent of their plot didn't change anything. Even if these men had prepared a trap for him, he had no choice but to go. After all, if he didn't come, the bastards would have no reason to keep Tomoe alive...

But who were these men?

Bakufu?

Yes, definitely. It couldn't have been anyone else. But which faction? This was too elaborate for the Shinsengumi, the Mimawarigumi or other samurai groups, but wait –

That assassin in black!

What if this is about that? They knew of my identity back then, didn't they? His throat went dry, and Kenshin swallowed. Gods, this was exactly what he had been afraid of these past few weeks, listening to Iizuka's bad news piling up.

Yet, none of his fears mattered, not when they had his wife.

Nothing the Bakufu had ever thrown at him had been enough to stop him. With the strength of Hiten Mitsurugi he had cut them all down with ease, every single one of them.

And with this fury driving him?

They wouldn't stand a chance.

Tomoe – please, wait for me. I'll save you. I promise.


Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 29.04.2016.