When you died, I wanted to die too, Tomoe.

Without you the sky was grey, and the blood rain poured from the heavens, until I thought I would drown. Yet I struggled on, because to simply die, as I longed to, would make your death meaningless. It would make your first love's , Kiyosato's, death meaningless

It would make all the deaths of those who have fallen to my blade meaningless.

There was murder; there was protection; and there was pain. And I wondered when would the new world come, and slowly, I began to lose all hope.

And then I met her.

I brought more bloodshed and suffering into her life. However, I. . .loved her. In someway, perhaps she reminded me of you, or maybe how I thought or imagined you had been before my sword had stolen your smiles and your joy. Or maybe I loved her simply because she was a child, innocent of what a drear place the world could be.

Perhaps it was simply because she was not afraid of me.

With her, I found our summer sky blue in her sapphire eyes. In her smiles, I found my own laughter. In her, I found a lost happiness. I do not know if I truly deserve her still, but she seems happy. She loves me.

. . .You both loved me. You both saved me. You tamed Battousai. She tamed the Rurouni.

And now there is only Kenshin.

Tomoe-chan. . .I am happy.

Forgotten
By Aishiteru

The bokken went flying from her grip to land with a clatter on the floorboards.

She spun around, her eyes childishly wide, though their bright colour had been leeched away by the moonlight. "Ano. . .Himura-san! Please don't tell kaasan you caught me practicing! Please!" Her lower lip began to shake.

He looked down at her seriously. "Why don't you want me to?"

She fidgeted underneath his steady stare, then blurted it out in a long torrent of words. "Kaasan says that it's not ladylike for me to be practicing with a sword, and she wants me to be a lady like her, but I want to learn how to defend myself, just like tousan, and Takashi-kun, and Akida-kun and Nobuhiro-kun and it's not fair! I'm supposed to always dress in kimono and learn how to tie up my hair, but that's just boring, ne? It's not like I don't want to learn how to be like kaasan though; but I don't see why I can't learn the sword too. . .Tousan was teaching me, but I can't practice, because kaasan gets upset. . ."

He looked at her for another long moment, wondering what in Kami's name he was supposed to do. It wasn't any of his business. . .

"I won't tell." He said shortly. "But you should go to bed, Kaoru-chan. It's very late, and I could hear you practicing from my room. Your mother might wake up, ne?"

She nodded eagerly, even as the ribbon that had been haphazardly keeping her hair back finally gave up, and tumbled free. Long blue-black strands sprang free, clouding in a dark tangle around her small face. "A-arigato, Himura-san. Oyasumi nasai!"

She ran past him, scooping up her bokken along the way.

'Himura-san! Ohayo!! Breakfast is ready!" Kaoru's voice chirped from the doorway, as she slid the panel back. "Himura-san. . ." her eyes scanned the unused bedding, rounding in surprise as she surveyed the room, finally discovering him in the corner by the open window, his body embracing his katana, as his head rested lightly on his chest in slumber. Even as she watched, his eyes slowly opened, and he looked up, though she sensed he had been aware of her presence even before she had opened the door.

"Ohayo, Kaoru-chan."

She beamed. "Kaasan says that breakfast is ready, and are you ready to eat?"

"Hai."

Silence, except for the nervous ring of chopsticks against against the rim of a bowl. Distantly, Kenshin could hear the shouts of Kamiya-san's students practicing, the echo of footfalls against polished wood, the sigh of wind as several bokkens came down in unison.

He forced himself to eat, slowly, methodically, although the scene reminded him unbearably of too few mornings spent in her presence, where they had eaten together, then checked on the crops, or gone to the village to sell medicine. . .Even the silence was a reminder, the smell of white plum blossums drifting on the air. . .Kamiya-san's wife wore that scent too. . .

Absently, his left hand rose to his scar. During the months where it had wept almost constantly, he had grown use to cupping his face so, making sure the blood did not trickle down to his clothes. The landlady had grown tired of having to wash his gi everyday, and hadn't hesitated to tell the Hitokiri Battousai to his face.

"Himura-san."

"Hai?"

"Do you want any more?" Kamiya Hanako indicated the miso left in the middle of the table. There was still fear in her eyes, but also determination.

"No thank you."

"Himura-san!" The door opened in a hurry. "Gomen nasai. . .Can you do me a favour?" Kamiya-san peered around the corner, looking rather harassed. With the opening of the door the sound level went up, and Kenshin could hear a chorus of "Shishou! How do I. . .Look at. . ."

"What?" His voice was dispassionate, his tone so disinterested as to be almost rude. However, the overrun instructor of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu did not seem to notice, but merely smiled rather embarrassedly.

"Ee, Himura, I'm sorry to impose, but could you possibly escort my wife and Kaoru-chan to the market? Normally, I would have one of my instructors to do it, but the dojo is full up today and it's not safe in town for a woman and child-"

"It's fine." He wouldn't have done anything anyway today. Only solitude, and the sight of her smiling tearstreaked face, racked by pain, but that smile that he had loved shining through it, like the sun though the snow. . .

Gomen nasai. . .my. . .darling. . .

"Heee, we're ready to go Himura-san." A childish voice thankfully broke through his memories. He rose to his feet, and looked at her smiling face, and then was startled when she slipped her small hand into his.

"Rice! Rice! Get your rice!"

"Two bags!"

"How much do you need?"

"Give it here!"

The market place was hideously busy. People bustled to and through, arguing over the extortionate price of fish, of sake, of silk, of anything that could possibly be bargained down. All in all, a thriving maket. However, there was a darker element, one man in five wearing some sort of arms, some concealed, others worn in open menace. There were children, but they did not run in open play, but were kept close to the folds of a woman's kimono. Worse yet, there was not one stall that did not have some sort of guard.

Hanako looked on with some despair at the fighting crowd in front of the rice sellers, as the trio from the Kamiya dojo emerged from a shadowed side street, arms laden with baskets of groceries. "Maa. . .I'm never going to get through there to get rice. . .And we're completely out!"

"Wait here."

She backed up a step. "Himura-san. . .ano. . .you don't have to. . ."

But the young man had already melted into the crowd.

She frowned, feeling a disquiet within her. He was supposed to be a bloody handed killer, a demon who knew no mercy, and slew man, woman and child alike. Not this quiet contemplative young man, who carried such sorrow within his blue-grey-violet eyes. She had seen it, and an unexpected guilt in those expressive eyes. . .odd times, like when she had offered him more miso, or last night when foolish young Takashi had challenged him. Thank the gods he didn't accept. . .Thank you, gods. . .

"What a pretty young woman! Too pretty to be wandering the streets so alone, with a little girl, ne?"

Hanako spun, seizing Kaoru with one hand, and keeping her behind her. Two men were smiling at her, in a way that made her blood run cold. Were they looking at Kaoru. . .no! She made an effort to smile, then replied easily, "I thank you for your concern. However, my. . .brother has just gone to get the rice. He'll be back soon."

". . .Really. . .How interesting. You're brother, you say?" They slouched forward, insolent smiles widening. "Perhaps he'll be gone for just long enough a moment. . ."

"Daijoubu, Kamiya-san?" a quiet voice said behind her. A heavy ricebag, one she would have considerable trouble lifting - and she was not weak, despite her looks - was casually tucked under one arm of Himura Kenshin. His eyes stared with undeniable menace at the two men, yet he seemed slight in the shadows, scarcely able to defend himself, much less two women against these two brawny men.

Evidently, they thought so too.

One made gave a dismissive wave with one hand. "Beat it. We just want to. . .talk. . .with your pretty "sister", ne?" He leered, then grabbed her wrist. Hanako snatched it away, even as a rice bag hurtled over her head to land squarely on the man's chest, knocking him over on impact.

"Daijoubu?" Himura asked again to her. His face was still a calm still mask, the eyes hooded and sorrowful. There was no anger present. . .except something flashed like amber in his eyes. HIs words were quiet, and even.

"Daijoubu, Himura-san!" Kaoru peered around her, then walked fearlessly up to the young man. "That was so cool! You just threw it. . .and down he went. . ."

"Hee! Kisama!!" The other man was charging straight for them. . .She saw amber in his eyes again, even as he pivoted on one foot, simultaneously pushing her out of the way, and positioning Kaoru directly behind him. His hand flashed to his waist, drawing a sword, sheathe and all, as he swept in front of him in a wide arc. The man went sprawling.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye, so fast that Hanako had not even had enough time to draw enough breath to scream.

She began to tremble. . .it was too much. . .Kaoru. . .It was so easy to imagine, for without the sheathe, the bloody images of murder playing through her mind's eye would have been a reality. . .as no doubt they had been a reality countless times. . .

The world darkened and the last thing she saw was the sun striking the blood-red highlights in his hair, and the cross scar he bore on his left cheek.

"Kaasan!" Kaoru ran to her mother, managing to almost halt her painful fall to the ground. Kenshin turned, his eyes widening slightly. . .she was falling. . .the snow swirled blindingly around him, blood streaming from his scar. . .

Tomoe. . .

The scent of white plum blossums. . .petals falling endlessly. . .Tomoe where are you, I can't see you, love. . .

"Kaasan. . .wake up. . .wake up. . ." Kaoru was pulling at her mother's kimono frantically, almost sobbing in her panic. Pushing away the veil of memories -Katsura-san, why did you send me here, I don't want time to think, I can't, all I can see is her, when I do not fall into an exhausted slumber, I dream of her, and the blood rain.- Kenshin pushed his wakizashi back through his belt, then turned to the frantic girl.

"Saa, it's alright, Kaoru-chan. See, she's just fainted." He gently pulled her away, then felt Hanako's pulse, and checked her eyes. Fainted. "Let's get her home, Kaoru-chan. We have enough food." He hoisted Kamiya-san's unconscious form over one shoulder, then took up the rice, and several baskets. "Hold this one Kaoru. You're going to have to carry it, ne? Can you manage?"

"H-hai, Himura-san." Her blue eyes were anxious as she looked up at him.

Thank Kami that the Kamiya dojo is fairly close. . .

Despite all the exercises Shishou had used to set him; toting rocks, and buckets of water and such, Kenshin was heartilly relieved when they finally reached the street of the dojo. He didn't know his way around Edo, and had to rely on Kaoru's memory.

She had only gotten them lost once. He looked at her with some concern, at the weary feet dragging in the dust, and how her small arms trembled with the weight of the baskets.

"We're almost there, Kaoru-chan. Just a bit longer."

She turned up her small face, framed by the strands of loose black hair that had escaped her wide blue ribbon, and smiled tiredly. "Daijoubu."

The dojo. . .Hanako was becoming increasingly heavy. As was the rice. And the vegetables. And the sake bottle that had been banging into his leg for the last half hour.

Kaoru set the basket down with a wider smile, then slid the doors back for him. "Tadaima!" she called.

Her father almost seemed to materialize; they were an hour or so late. "Kaoru!" he cried. There was worry etched into the lines of face. He looked behind his daughter, at the weary grocery hung form of the Hitokiri Battousai, carrying his wife over one shoulder. "Hanako!"

Author's Note: Yes, this chapter was silly and angsty. Hee hee, Kenshin fighting with rice bags. . .and being draped with vegetables. . .that amuses me. Not much happened. . .don't worry, something is going to happen. Thanks for all your reviews!

Japanese:

Oyasumi nasai = Good night

Ohayo (gozaimasu) = good morning