Title: Hanafubuki
Part 6: Equilibrium
AN: Hey everyone -- sorry this story has been dragging along for so long.
Honestly, I have every intention of getting a part out each week...and
then life happens. So I wish to extend my thanks to everyone who has
thus far put up with my terrible posting schedule and has sent me very
kind reminders that I need to get off my lazy butt and do some writing.
This includes Bunny, Susan, Key, Naomi, Hikari, Jessica, Girliegirl, Monica,
Jen... among other people who I'm certain I'm forgetting. Again, many
thanks. Now -- on with the show (or something like that).
--
In the remembrance
Of days never forgotten
I sigh with eyes closed
--
Part 6
She turned away again, muffled footsteps retreating down the hallway -- 'Kaoru-dono, wait' -- and, finally shaking myself free from the fog of surprise, I followed.
I stared only at the back of her kimono with no regard for direction. We moved as one, a young woman and her shadow. I concentrated on the rhythm of her hair swinging gently from side to side as she walked, clinging to the image before me as a drowning man clings to even the most fragile of lifelines. Suddenly she pivoted, one hand on the open doorway, and her eyes lifting nervously to meet my own.
"Kenshin, I..." Her mouth remained half-open as her eyes widened and her mind seemed to spin frantically in a futile search for words. Defeated at last by the weight of the silence, she exhaled forcefully and clenched her teeth together. I followed her into the room.
Her futon was spread out across the floor as though she'd gone to bed but had been unable to sleep, and from a low table, a solitary lamp flickered weakly in the purple darkness of twilight. As I lingered in the doorway, she silently lit another, and by the light of the twin glows I could see the slight trembling in her steps as she drifted to the battered wooden chest in the far corner of the room. My heart raced in empathy.
"Father told me that this was my mother's favorite." Silken folds of deep crimson spilled downward from her hands, and my gaze followed the ends of the scarf to where they brushed lightly against her legs. "He said she wore it every time she went out." Her eyes closed as she brushed the fabric against her cheek, and a smile formed at the corners of her mouth.
I watched as she inhaled deeply, her nose buried within the soft folds, and her hands trembled as she held her breath within her chest. Then she shook her head, eyes snapping open. "I used to think that I could smell the scent she wore. I don't know why it was always so important to me, but I'd bother Father for hours just asking if he remembered. He couldn't tell me, couldn't remember." She stared at the fabric, gaze tracing the shadows cast in the valleys of folds.
"I imagined that the fragrance was as refreshing as the first hints of spring, as delicate as the rhythms of butterfly wings, as subtle as the soft pink hues of morning washing across the dawn sky. She paused, her voice trailing hesitantly off into the darkness, and I stood by, silently listening.
"But it was just my imagination. I don't know what scent she wore, and I never will." Her words launched my mind off onto a tumbling journey of memories, and once again the distinctive fragrance of white plum dragged me into the unforgiving embrace of time.
"I used to be furious with her for leaving me alone. Everyone else had a mother -- everyone but me... It wasn't until later that I realized that she hadn't left by choice. Of course she didn't ask to die." In the soft glow of the lamplight, old wounds of the heart had reopened, and with eyes squeezed shut against the salty moisture of memory, she sunk tiredly to her knees.
And as I hesitated, a firm voice deep within my mind and soul seemed to whisper insistently -- 'I lost my first love through reservation and hesitation. Don't follow in my footsteps' -- and again my head spun, drenched with the scent of eleven years past. So I knelt by her side, offering my shoulder for support, and she clung to me, white knuckles gripping my gi and head buried in its folds.
"I'm sorry...so sorry, I didn't mean to--" Gradually the wracking sobs faded into suppressed sniffles, and she guiltily loosened her grip, cheeks blushing pink in embarrassment. "--completely fall apart." We sat in silence for a moment, a surprisingly comfortable unstated agreement of reflection, and when she pulled away to take a more socially-acceptable seat by my side, it was with regret that I let her out of my arms.
Everything had swing off-center, oscillating between the past and the present, what I was and who I'd become, what I wanted of the world and what the world wanted of me. But somehow, within her arms I felt secure, as if her mere presence kept the demons at bay.
"Kenshin... your family -- your parents, do you remember...?" Her voice trailed off as if she was suddenly aware of her words and how I would take them. As it was, for some reason, I didn't mind. Not from her, never from her.
My voice was low, steadier than I felt inside. "Yes... although Hiko-sensei was, in actuality, more of a parent to me than anyone else in my... childhood." The word didn't seem to fit, not as a description for my early life. "But my mother, she... I remember that she loved me."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Shinta-chan?" It was the voice of a mother, concerned and tinged with the harshness of panic. "Where are you?" The wind threw heavy clouds across the blackened sky, and the trees bent from side to side, their branches snapping in the violence of the oncoming storm.
Inside the rough hut, a boy, small for his age, no more than five or six years in stature, huddled against the wall in fear, his eyes staring intensely at the door as if convinced that its opening would spell his assured demise. Knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them, he held his breath as the unforgiving winds shook the wall behind him.
The village was a good-sized rural community that had once been proud of its prosperity, but drought had parched the soil dry, and the nearby river had all but disappeared from its banks. Still, the worst was the plague. When the rains finally arrived, they brought with them a terrible sickness that spread across the land like wildfire, eradicating entire villages and leaving in its wake a population so weak and dehydrated that the living had neither the strength nor the willpower to honor the dead.
"Shinta -- thank god you're safe!" She swept the boy up in her arms, pressing him against her chest as he buried his face in her hair. He whimpered softly, and she rubbed his back, gently rocking back and forth. They sat together as one on the sodden floor, neither moving until the mother turned her head abruptly to the side, coughing. And around them, the storm raged on into the night, tears shed upon a land already weeping in sorrow.
"Mother?" He wiggled restlessly out of the cold, unmoving arms as orange daylight flooded in through the open door. "Mother?!" His voice cracked as he lay on the floor beside her, eyes squeezed tightly in denial and trembling arms wrapped around her neck.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Kenshin..." The noise tugged insistently on my mind, and when I couldn't ignore it any longer, I blinked several times, struggling to drag myself out of the half-forgotten memories. She was calling my name. "...are you alright?"
"W-what?" She was at my side, gentle eyes holding mine as her fingers brushed against my arm in a gesture that was becoming increasingly familiar. I stifled a sigh, my eyes falling half-closed as I forced myself to smile. "Don't worry, Kaoru-dono. Everything's going to be alright." If only I could convince myself...
She nodded silently, but I could tell that she didn't completely believe my words from the hesitation in the movement and tension visible in the lines around her mouth. Her hand fell away, then was extended again, this time to the left side of my gi where pink and red had merged in a marbled sea of dampness. "Your shoulder -- it's bleeding again."
She didn't say a word as she led back to my room and proceeded to the corner where Megumi had left her supplies. With every step, every gesture, every breath drawn in between parted lips, I could read her concern, see the unconditional generosity that was manifest in her thoughts and actions. Within the soul of the strong-willed girl was an equally strong-willed woman -- beautiful, intelligent, and freely-giving of her time and kindness.
The warm air had chilled with the onset of night, and her fingers were cool as they carefully pulled aside the sticky cloth. They lingered briefly upon my chest, her hand trembling faintly. "Kaoru-dono... you don't have to--"
'--don't have to soil your hands with myself and my past', I finished in my mind. But I couldn't bring myself to speak the words, for although my mind insisted that I protect her innocence, there was a tension in my heart that gripped my throat and mudded my thoughts.
"I don't have to do anything. I do it because I want to," she replied softly as she proceeded to clean the wound and wrap fresh bandages around my shoulder. "You don't always have to protect me, Kenshin." Finally, she lifted her face, and a silver wash of moonlight, so delicate and transitive in the dark embrace of time, accented the whites of her eyes and highlighted her smooth cheekbones. "I'm here for you as well."
The web she spun, as I teetered back and forth on the edge of sanity, rose up to enfold me, but I squeezed me eyes closed and tried to gather together my scattered feelings. "Thank you." The words seemed inadequate, and mentally I kicked myself for not being able to express my astonishment and gratitude that she, after everything that had happened, was still willing to stand at my side. But at the same time, for some reason, it wasn't surprising in the least.
She tied off the ends of the bandage, eyes focused on her hands. "You have no idea what Megumi will do to me if finds out that you reopened the wound after all her hard work." Her voice held a tone of mild rebuke, but I could tell from the slight twitch of her mouth that she meant no offense.
"You don't have to worry, Kaoru-dono. I won't breath a word of it." She had moved away to carefully return the supplies to their proper place, and the air, devoid of her close presence, was colder. I shivered.
"Now I don't want to hear any more excuses. You're going to bed, Kenshin, and that's final -- no arguing." As she began to spread the futon out on the floor she turned to glare in my direction, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in determination. I sat unmoving as she smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the bedding. "Kenshin... please?"
There was no resisting the whispered plea, no denying the worried eyes that found mine in the soft moonlight, and I complied without further comment, settling onto my back as she fussed with the covers. At last, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement, she sat back on her heels, hands on her thighs and hair falling lightly across her face.
"Goodnight, Kenshin..." There were so many thoughts but no words to express them, so many feelings half-formed in hearts and minds. She paused, as if debating whether to say more, then with one last visual examination rose from the ground.
"And to you as well, Kaoru-dono." I could feel my eyelids growing heavy as the day's exertion reached forth to grip my consciousness, and her smile as she slid the paper door closed was the last image I remembered before sinking once again into the familiar comfort of empty blackness.
- - - - - - - - - -
With the rising of the morning sun over the tree line, another day began. The fragile sunlight filtered down between the new spring leaves, brushing against the ground and encouraging the birds to sing. If only I, too, could leave my troubles behind me like the dawn chases away the memories of night...
The girls were at each others' throats in the kitchen, and as I sat on the porch, I tried not to cringe as their voices rose higher and higher with each passing minute. In all fairness, although it had been Megumi's idea to come over and make lunch, it was Kaoru-dono who had insisted on helping.
When I had left them they'd been collaborating on the sashimi (each trying to maintain possession of both the knife and the raw fillets of fresh fish), but it seemed as though they were in distinct disagreement over how best to arrange the thin slices on the awaiting dishes.
"Arg, I can't believe that no one ever showed you the correct way to skin a fish!" Even out underneath the morning sky, I couldn't escape the comments shouted in frustration from inside. "I'm surprised you haven't cut your fingers off yet!"
"And who made you the resident expert in the kitchen? Don't you forget that this is my kitchen anyway! Who invited you to come in and take it over?" I could picture Kaoru standing before her taller friend, chin held high in defiance and eyes blazing in anger. She was, without a doubt, a considerable force to be reckoned with when her temper flared.
"Why, you did, silly." But with those words came a brief pause in the skirmish, and I could almost tangibly feel the tension diffusing as both girls dissolved into giggles.
"Oh, I guess you're right... I did. What on earth could I have been thinking?" It never ceased to amaze me how her moods could switch in an instant. One moment clearly furious, the next affable and lighthearted, she bounced between extremes as though it were second nature. Oh to be young and innocent...
"Hey Kenshin, you alright?" I caught a flash of white out of the corner of my eye and turned to regard Sanosuke. Physically he was the same as always -- The ends of the red ribbon tied across his brow fluttered behind him in the breeze, and his hands were tucked casually into the pockets of his white pants. The jacket sat easily on his broad shoulders, and I knew the symbol for "bad" would still be on his back.
"Yes. I was just listening to the girls in the kitchen," I explained as I leaned back up against the wall, smiling.
"And they're both still alive in there?" His eyes widened slightly in disbelief. "Maybe I ought to go and check..." But before he could take off in investigation, another burst of giggles floated lightly upwards though the air, signifying that all was fine in the realm of food-preparation.
"Actually, they seem to be doing well together." Of course, everything is relative, and I couldn't bring myself to contemplate the current state of lunch. Neither Megumi not Kaoru were particularly experienced in cooperation.
Beside me, Sano sank to the ground with a sigh. His mouth opened once but closed again as he apparently collected his thoughts, and I waited for him to speak. "Kenshin, there's something I overheard yesterday that I think you need to know --"
end of part 6
--
Note 1: Sorry if anyone's drifted out of character! If you're in
any way confused, yes, the little middle section was a flashback.
I haven't seen all the anime or read translations to all the
manga, so if I've gotten anything wrong in respect to
Kenshin's past, someone please clue me in to my mistakes.
- Mir (10.11.2001)
Note 2: Not much to say here except that I can't believe I wrote
two cliffhangers in a row. I must have been feeling particularly
Machiavellian at the time. -- Mir (06.26.2008)
.