Author's Note: Hello again you guys! How's it going? Are you ready for my endless babbling? Today's subject is the impact  of peanut butter in my recent life. Some of you might already know that I left the parental house a few months ago and is stuck in a tiny room that I oh so hate (and will soon leave. Which reminds me that I should start packing up, I'm out of here in one or two months!). But not many know of my decease. It's called anemia. Now, don't worry, no one dies of this, at least not me. Though I have a rare degree of it, it only makes my life a little bit more difficult, forcing me into a diet that I have trouble fallowing. You see, anemia is a blood related decease just like diabetes but it's not the sugar that is lacking but some proteins and a small problem with my white globules which makes me more vulnerable to sickness. Thankfully, all the trouble (such as dizziness and stomach problems) can be avoid through a strict diet and medication (only specials vitamins nothing too big). The thing is that I don't have much money and can't afford to pay the big price for some of the aliments that I should eat to keep myself in good health and avoid the fainting effect of low proportion of protein in my blood. So, I discovered that peanut butter (which I simply adore) is a very good alternative. ^-^ So you see, in my room I had stocked a large amount of peanut butter pots just in case. So my friend now call me the Peanut Crazed Girl, or the ever so usual Microbe (thanks to my friend's boyfriend. It stands for my usual sickness, cause I always have some damn health trouble. If it's not the flue, it's something else, which I don't know the name of in English). This helps a lot for my self-esteem… ¬¬

Disclaimers: I busted all my money on peanut butter, so don't sue me for something that I don't even own!

Warning: I really don't know what to warn you of… beside some heavy emotional distress and some dark subjects. Oh and, maybe some major grammar mistakes… wish I could stop all those allusion to my difficulties in your language. I swear I'm doing my best, use lots of dictionary and read twice my work, but I can't help it! I'm sure even you guys do these kind of mistakes… sometimes, rarely but you do them too… don't you? (giving puppy dog eyes treatment to all readers wishing this would make them pity her, even if just a little)

Within Soul

By Evil Karyta

Chapter Four

"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses, but the soul."

                        - Oscar Wilde

  The sky was bright with stars, shining high above like a thousand of tiny diamonds embroidered to a dark velvet blue heaven. It was majestic, with the milky white crescent, like a forgotten pendant hanging there, waiting for someone to come and take it. One would feel so miniature compared to the wide immensity that stretched endlessly, farther than the eye could see. Observing this breathtaking sight, orbs of cool lavender reflecting the night's muse light, Kenshin sat in mute reflection. His katana resting almost forgotten by his side on the yellowing grass.

  Although it was cold, he stayed there, unmoving, lost in deep thinking. The harsh cold wind was blowing mercilessly, trashing his darken red hair around him in a wild dance of long silky locks of deep red. The nights events had been everything but usual. The assassin, having done his duty, had followed what he had thought to be a witness. How wrong he had been, so wrong. Instead, he had run after an emotionally unstable Kaoru, whom had sought comfort somehow by coming here.

  Never before had he seen the girl so shaken, as if all the misery of the world had suddenly befallen on her lithe shoulders, leaving her weak and defenseless. The image of the usually energetic woman, broken and crying by the well, her body sprawled in a heap of soft pink fabric and a weaving bundle, was not one he wished to see, ever again. It had been painful, watching from a far as she succumbed into depression, tearing his heart with each sobs of deep sorrow.

  First, he thought that she was in shock, still believing that she had seen the bloody murder, and even worst, saw him feed upon a living soul. An ache griped his core, unlike that of hunger, much alike sorrow, or even fright if possible. It felt new, mixed with many things he could not even name, but it was there and it was nagging cruelly at him. It took him some time to think of the right action, the right way to approach the girl. She looked so fragile, as if a word from him would break her into millions of tiny porcelain shards not unlike that plate she had broken a few days ago. How could someone as strong as Kaoru turn into such a state of weeping and grief?

  Finally, with careful strode, a hand near his sword but fearing to use it, he came closer to the crying girl. With each step taken, the sound of her pain became louder and the feel of her sorrow turned palpable, so thick he thought he could slice it in two. He felt his throat tightening, a knot of apprehension compressing the limbs that laid there, making it difficult for him to breath. He stayed in silence, his body covering hers in shadow, testifying of his presence, but if she had noticed it, she did not make it apparent, staying closed up in her loathing. His eyes, having returned to their normal color, scanned the surrounding, still hesitating into making his presence clearly known. But he had to know, it was his duty, he…

"Did you see?"

  The man's voice had been so soft, barely above a whisper and yet clear and powerful. She stopped every movement, even repressing the natural shivers that the cool air created on her. She was as stiff as a marble statue. Then, slowly, she tightened up, her back to him, not looking at him, as if fearing his gaze. Her whole felt tensed, restrained, like fighting an inner desire to do… something. But she remained unmoving, sitting on crossed legs, staring string in front of her and sniffing once in a while. Once she thought she had gained enough of control over her voice, she uttered her rasp reply.

"Saw what?"

"Did you see?" he insisted, his tone getting louder.

  She felt as if her answer, positive or negative, would decide the rest of her life. However, she felt stubborn, even though she was feeling low, her spunky attitude whenever she was confronted to a man never fade from her. Did she see something? Define seeing, she thought. If he spoke of glowing golden orbs boring deep into her soul, making her shiver in fright and some kind of sick delight. Or if he made allusion of a shadowed figure, coming out of a room, piercing amber eyes looking at nothing but a razor sharp sword, then yes, she saw something. Who and what, that, she had only a hint of an idea. But if he thought she would tell him, tell him that those eyes captivated her so much that it scared her, that those eyes were so intense that they woken up a pain she thought had been buried and over with, tell him that it was because of him that she had become so strangely weak, she would rather die. Never in her life, would she admit that a man got such a power over her. Never!

  Kenshin waited for her response that he doubted now would ever come. And her stubborn silence only worked as a catalysis to his already increasing annoyance. It did not take long for him to react. With a speed that astounded her, he gripped her shoulder, turning her to look at him. She adverted his searching eyes that blazed anger toward her, so unlike the gentle Kenshin she knew and learned to care for. Growing weary of her cowering stare, he locked her chin in between gentle but strong fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his and preparing to reformulate his inquiry. He got a clear look of her tear-stained face, cheeks red and irritated by the salty nature her weep and this sight simply rendered him speechless. Simply baffled by the pure distress he read in the deep, dark blue of her gems.

  He could tell by the angle her sight had taken that she was avoiding his eyes, staring instead at his mouth, which he thought was gaping from the shock he had received upon seeing her in this state of total despair. He had seen it on many faces before, but he never even imagined witnessing such a look on the girl. It was heart wrenching, and he fought against the temptation of taking her in his arms and sooth the worry and pain from her by cradling her firmly against his chest, rocking her back and forth, as he would to a small child. Slowly, the blue jewels lift upward and met sparkling amethysts, and, as if naturally, her voice started to form words. Soft and quiet in the darkness of the night.

"I come from Edo," she started and than stop, searching for her words.

  He knew it. The old lady had informed him of it this morning. But Kaoru had said it as if revealing the most guarded secret of the universe. He felt as though warning her of his knowledge, but stopped, a voice telling him to keep quiet and listen. If all, she had come to a point where, no matter who, she needed an ear to listen and give her some sort of compassion. Fate has chosen him. Who was he to argue with such a powerful will? Therefore, he listened, carefully, taking in each bits of information, becoming the comfort she had sought for by coming to this cold and winter tinted yard.

"My trip around Japan ended here, but it started five years ago. I was nearly 12, young and carefree, living with my father. Even though only a small amount of time separates me from that time… I feel is if it had been decades ago. It had been so easy by then, not knowing that the man I looked up to, was a part of something that I now feel I have to end. I'm here to finish what he started…"

  Yes, he thought looking down at the dry blades of grass just barely touching his feet that were hovering above the ground from his sited position on the stony edge of the well. He could very well remember her story, her voice that spoke so softly, almost as she was talking to herself. She had been lost within her remembrance, her beautiful eyes glassy and shining with unshed tears. And the bitter tell was replaying over his mind, and he could see it so clearly, even now, sitting alone, long after she had been gone, observing with uninterested eyes the terra yellowed bits of grass bend in the icy wind…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  It was a warm spring after noon. One of those days when you could just breathed the summer sent into the air as it slowly settled over the revived nature. The grass had turn into a limy green a few days ago, and the young leaves where lulled peacefully by the warm breeze. Everything, the threes, the plants, the river that sang not too far in the back of the dojo's walls, every part of nature was embossed with the beauty of spring day and promises of summer. And I was there, so young, clad in a light lavender short sleeved kimono that my father gave me a few weeks ago, a broom in my hand, getting rid of the dust winter had spread on the wooden platform that surrender our house.

  He had gone by sunrise, telling me he would come back soon, that it was just a little something he had to do and then that everything would be settled and that we would live peacefully again. And foolishly, I believed him. I wanted to, with all the will my twelve years old heart could muster up. It was all I could hang on to. The promised peace of a father that had been gone most of the time for matters that I could not yet even begin to grasp with my young and innocent mind.

  He was all that I had left. Him and this old dojo, house of our many laughter and splitting weeping. I had been used of been left alone for weeks long by the age of seven, when everything had started. Now, I only wished it to be over. It was selfish, I new it, but I could not help it. Each time he would leave, I would busy myself with house chores. Not that I was good at it, but that it kept me from worrying too much. It never really occurred to me that he might not come back. To me, my father was a hero, brave and invisible, caring so much for everyone that he would leave his only daughter alone in their empty house, waiting for his return. I was so young by then. Not understanding that death was the end of everything, that we were all born to suffer upon the earth and than return to it when age or battles would call us back.

  The day had flown by, and I was scrubbing about, trying with all the might my small arms could manage to get the dirt away from our house so my father would be proud of me. I could see his face, radiant, smiling and loving as he would tell me what a wonderful job I had done, even though I broke that ancient sake jar he loved so much, or that I managed to burn dinner, again. He was like that, always eager to forgive all my misdeeds. I loved him dearly for that, and for just being him. Now that I'm thinking about it, I know that I should have told him so, but it never crossed my mind before. I thought I had all the time that I needed to tell him those things. It was stupid to believe so.

  The sun was slowly fading away, lighting the sky in fiery colors, vivid tints of orange, yellow and soft purple. The first stars adorning the sky, accompanying the rise of the moon. I don't remember if it was only a crescent of a full rounded face that I stared at, such things tends to simply drift away as time passes by. It's weird, how memory works, you can remember subtle fragrances that hung in the air, such as those wild blue flowers that used to grow all around the dojo, but forget the form of a moon that you watched all night long.

  By the time the moon had reached a mid level into the velvety indigo sky, I had fallen asleep on the porch, holding my broom as I would a doll. It was a soft, almost sorrowful knock at the gates that woken me up. In my child's mind, I was exited, never once doubting the fact that it was my father behind those doors waiting for me to come, open them so he could get in, and rest. It did not crossed my mind that he had never, even once, tapped the door before he entered, that he always opened them with force and a cheerful "I'm home!" booming out of his powerful lungs albeit it was in the middle of the night . No, in my mind, it was him behind those huge oak doors, not that hateful man coming to announce me what I dreaded the most.

  He died a few hours ago, he had said sorrow all over his shadowed features. I wouldn't believe him. It was impossible. My father was a brave man, always true to his words. If he said he would come back then, surely as night turned into day, he would be back! I yelled, eyes full of tears that I would never allow to break free, that the messenger was a liar. But his eyes rested on me, and his hand came to my head, caressing my hairs in a companionate gesture of sympathy. Those colorless pools of his shown in deep sorrow, he too had new my father, and he grieved his death painfully, and understood the pain I was going through. This was no pain, I remember having cried, this is a joke! He said he would come back soon! I waited sagely all day long, he has to come back.

  But as the night and than the day after passed by, I realized that indeed, he was not going to pass through the dojo's gate anymore. I also understood clearly, when they put his lifeless body into earth, returning him where he had came from, that no matter how long I would wait with hope in my eyes, sitting on the porch, I would never hear that joyous 'I'm home' that made me so happy. The steering joy that man had brought me, those pleasant days that were ours, there were all over.

  I did not cry when they dug the whole in which my father would rest his final rest. Nor did I cry when they actually buried him, shielding him under the heavy brown earth that smelled so much like him. Not a shadow of a tear appeared in the depth of my eyes when they gave me the black funeral stone, memento of my departed father. I had heard many snide remarks concerning my lack of weeping. Was called ungrateful child, uncaring and stoned hearted. I didn't care. They couldn't even begin to understand the feelings and emotions that were rocking my young mind. The fact that I could not shed a tear was not because I never loved him, the reason was in the depth of my closed mouth that did not spoke a word since that night. A pride that had rose within me, a nagging voice telling me that crying was weak, that my father would not want me to be weak. He had raised me as a strong girl; it was not because of his death that that fact would come to a change.

  I remember clearly those women talking about me while I was under their roof, calling me an orphan, forced into a world I was not ready to go through. I could care less of their thinking. All I wanted was to be left alone, to think and understand something I was never explained. I knew that I had no family left, no one to take care of me and their solution to it was to wed me as fast as possible. So they could get rid of this new weigh that had been given to them. As much as I didn't care for what they thought, they did not care for me. One night, I ran way from the house were the messenger had placed me, saying that those people would take good care of me. That was a fat lie, I soon realized. All they wanted was to get rid of me, not wanting to have a new mouth to feed. Not that I would eat anything they would give me for the matter.

  I came back to the dojo with my father's stone held firmly to my chest and once inside, set it on the table where mother stood. I knew what I had to do, it was all clear now. The women with who I had lived the few weeks after my father's death had not bothered to look for me. I was thankful of their uncaring feelings. It gave me the time I needed to find out what happened. In my father's room, on a low table near his neatly folded futon was his dairy. I read it all, it was like an open window to his mind, his thinking, and I realized just how much I was loved, so much that he had to do things he regretted so I could live happy with him. It did not take me long to understand everything, the deep meaning of each words so carefully written over the white pages of his lifeless confidant. In a matter of a few months, everything was settled. The dojo clean and closed, waiting to be reopened when I would come back, if I ever would. I had reached my thirteen years of existence, and a comprehension of the world that was beyond the natural thinking of a child that age.

  I gathered my things, all the money I still possessed, the precious belongings, things that could be very useful and packed it all up in a rough wrapping, ready to get a move on. And I found myself sitting in front of my mother and father, watching the sunlight shin on the polished black stones, still and emotionless. Not a tear had fallen out of my lids yet, and none would either, the time to grieve was not yet. Without a single word, I gripped the heavy package that would be my only belongings as of then, got to my feet and silently walked out of the dojo, away from the home that was the temple of so many cherished memories. The house, imprinted with our mirth, was left behind me as I strode down the road, not once turning back to see it fade in the distance, afraid that this one sight would break the resolve of my stubborn mind and make me collapse in tears. And so my journey began, with a journal and a heavy bundle on my back. I had no idea how the world could be. I was brave, courageous and strong willed, but so helplessly innocent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  He lost his focus. He could no longer grasp the memory of her words. All he could remember was the tears, crystal clear that reflected the moonlight as they descended, slowly, down her soft cheek. The torment that was so firmly embedded into her soul. It was as watching a child die, and maybe that was exactly what happened when she walked away from her home. He could see it, into her words, the love that had been theirs, Kaoru and her father, the tight bond that they created over the years. He was her only family, her only friend, the only thing that she could turn to in moments of fright, grief or simply for comfort and love.

  When he reflected upon his own life, Kenshin could not recall any moment when deep, unconditional affection had graced his existence. He had been born, nothing more, into a family that he did not know much of, not even supposed to be alive. Seeing his first day into life by taking his first soul and left alone, by himself, to face the worst and even worst. Kaoru had known the love of a caring family, even thought it had not been for long, she had experienced it. And at that moment, under the stars, tears shining on her visage turned toward the sky pendant, she had shared some of those memories with him. He felt guilty, unworthy of such an act of trust and friendship.

  Turning his gaze to his bloodied sandals and blue socks, remains of yet another crime to add to the already towering list of unspeakable deeds, Kenshin felt as if the world was, once again, far away from his reach. He lived a thousand years, empty and soulless, fearing nothing but himself, immune even to death, but having never know even the slightest sign of affection. He felt like a monster, and knew he was even worst than those legendary creatures for he fed upon the very source of existence. He took what he had never had the chance to have, what made livings what they were and used it for his own selfish benefit. How worst could someone feel, not even the guilt of death could torture a conscience worst than this tormenting reality. He was some kind of aberration of existence, never meant to be, should have died upon his birth, but still existed, after all those years.

  Clear and soft violet eyes turned to graze the sky, tortured in self loathing, lost into a whirlpool deeper than the sea that stretched around them, on this oversized island that was Japan, and feeling the weight of more than a thousand of soul, disappearing within himself, never to be reborn again. He felt like a great evil that should be slayed, but when one think about it for more than a second, they would realize that he was neither bad, nor was he good. Trapped in between, he could say. Enemy of the gods who wished souls to be set free and joyous, to reach heaven and live eternally, and also a foe of evil, taking for himself what demons wished to gain and take back within their realm of darkness for eternity.

  He shook his head, fearing a lost of sanity. How many times had he been close to let go and simply succumbed into madness. It was an easy solution. If he were not aware of his doing, no longer would he feel so distressed and guilty about them. But, of all the wrongs Kenshin could possess, cowardice was not in the many aspects of his personality. He regarded his suffering as a way to amend for his sins that, day after day, grew in numbers and added their weigh to the immense pile of misdeeds that were his lot.

  His sights spotted a soft but none the less bright light in the sky that, unlike the other stars that lit the heavens, shown in a soft and adorable blue hew. Her star, he thought with a gentle smile adorning his lips. The red head had a sudden startled move, where did that thought and more importantly, that uplift of his mouth had come from. Was it a sign of compassion that, out of nowhere, crashed upon him or was it something else? Who was he to know? After such a long and demanding life, he still had many to see and learn. Then his mind drifted again to the long hours passed listening to Kaoru's life tale and the words spoken so softly, almost only for herself, came back to him. Just like that, and he was washed away again in deep reflection, trying to understand what was meant to be said along the lines of her years passed before her entered her life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  I traveled a lot, saw most of what could be seen, noting that most of the towns and cities were the same everywhere, only with a different governing face. I soon ran out of money and exchanging valuables, and what I had thought would be an easy walk soon became a journey through hell's vivid fire. I got my first job in a small town, not a year after I left Edo. I worked as a maid, but it was more a slave than anything else. The little money that I made was rapidly taken way from me as a repayment for mistakes I did or did not. Whatever excuses were good enough to take the so hardly earned money I made.

  The master of the house was an old samurai, a rich one, who had forgotten the righteousness of his budo, looking down at my from his position. Threatening me to take me to the local shogun each time I refused to do something. I was beaten repeatedly, almost on a periodic basis, to teach me my place among the world, he said as a mean of explanation. I was pointed at by the house lady, a merciless woman who hated everything beside her own person. Within the house hold of that tyrannical family of bourgeois that gave more importance to valuables than life itself, almost treating capitals as an idol that choose the path of their lives, I was nothing more than a bug. Used, abused, tortured. 

  Suffering was my daily lot, been treated with less regards than a disgusting excrement. I was a bastard to them, a child that should have not even seen the bright of day. To see them lost in their luxury, cheating on everything, it made me sick, and I started to hate power. I also lost my faith, at least a part of it. Did not believed in a better world and was locked into a self affliction that was the result of harsh treatment and bitter words, meant to kill rebellion before it was even born.

  I was emotionally weak when I got there. Tired physically and mentally, having asked myself to many question, so many that I even ended putting the guilt of my families disappearance upon myself. They took profit of my abating self-esteem, used my illusionary guilt as a weapon to inflict more damage and bruises that, I'm sure of it, they hoped would scare me forever.

  This little wicked machination went on for a little more than a year, just enough for me to get the money that I needed to run away, back into freedom, far from this torturing hellhole that was the richly decorated house. The experience had, at least, taught me one good lesson in this world. Money only led to more desire and greed and I did not wished to fall victim of such evils. Belongings and valuables were all you needed to make someone suffer, with power, you could strip someone of all that made them what they thought they were, and if one was weak enough, could be lest alone and helpless to try and find a way to put an end to all their misery. But I was stronger than that, more intelligent, as I liked to think so, and had a one thing they still could not take away from me. My undying resolve and pride. Combine this with my strong will and ingenious mind, it did not take me too long to realize that I was better than any of them.

  They made me understand the full meaning of this revolution and what had pushed my father to do the things he had done. By then, I did not only craved to fulfill his dream, but I also wished to be a real part of it, not just his replacement. It was all thanks to a selfish couple that gave me the experience I needed. However, even then I had not seen everything that was darkness and desolation and that so many were fighting to get rid of, even though exterminating it was only an utopia that could never be achieve.

  Travels made hunger, hunger burnt money, and soon, I was once again left with nothing but my father's diary and the few clothing that I could not sell. I… did things that only necessity could justify the means, things I was never proud of, things I was taught were wrong. What choice did I have? I was lost, lone and starving, and still had to carry on for I had not yet reached my goal. Did you ever experience it? This feeling of emptiness that nothing could fill, when all hopes of getting some food down that whole that had become your stomach went flying out the window? It hurts. It's as if your inner body feeds upon itself, stabbing you, taking you by surprise. When you think you forgot it, it just comes back, more forcefully, crueler than before, leaving you weak, felling dizzy and helpless. Starve is the worst thing that could ever come to you. It's painful, it is worst torture than any beating and it stays, long after you got whatever tiny something you could get down your throat. It forces you to many things, begging, stealing, and selling. All of which you're never proud of remembering, wish you could forget. It's hard to be hungry; it's coming in and out of hell without interruption, driving you near madness.

  I finally attained Kyoto by the time I turned sixteen, weak, tired, and devoid of all the innocence I had once held. I was disabused, untrusting and almost wild. I had lost sight of the little girl that had been waiting her father, not so long ago, although to me it seemed like a century had passed. I believe that is how the souls that are damned must feel. Seeing time pass longer than it actually was. I was weary, tired and disillusioned, I needed a rest, a long rest. But I could not give up, not after wandering so long and arriving at my destination, it was out of the question. All I had left was to find the man who condemned my father to a work that was so ingrate that it killed him, and left him out of history, the one who took everything from me. I would pay the dept and than would be free to return to the childhood that I left behind, in that old dojo, which must be covered in dust as we speak.

  I was once again left with nothing but my hunger to dwell on, ready to pass yet another cold night by the street, an easy pray for all to take. However, for some unknown reason, luck turned its brilliant face toward me for the first time in 5 years. I met him, most likely crashed into him, and even more accurately, collapsed into his arms as he was coming out of a teahouse, surly one of his numerous hides out. Maybe he took pity on me, at that time, I could care no less, all I wanted was to rest, give into oblivion and forget everything. I was on the verge of insanity, feeling dirty and useless, afflicted by the many hardships that I came across, having nothing left to give.

  He was a generous man, not at all what I imagined him as. He was not a filthy man that desired much and gave nothing as that samurai and her wife were, nor was he like those men. He simply took me under his wing, gave me a job that earned me a honestly earned money, a place to rest and the time I needed to recollected the missing parts of my mind. He gave me much, and no longer was I feeling as paying for my father, but simply returning the favor to a man I had misjudged all my life long.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"But still, at night, when all is dark, I can feel the weight of all those passed torment, crushing my chest. The hunting feeling of fear that the tiniest sound could create, a reaction that only those who knew the harsh life of the streets could feel. Like a cold hand gripping at your throat so firmly that you could suffocate," she had emphases her words by circling her neck with her long fingers, her skin so pale on the moon light that one could think her dead if not for the light that shown in her teary eyes.

  She had blinked at that moment, he could clearly remember the lost look that lingered in her expression, having moved for the first time since she had started. Her whole body was shivering in cold and emotion, having relieved all that had befallen her all those years, feeling what she thought would never go through again, only by the power of remembrance. It was amazing what the mind could create out of simple memories, making oneself completely wrapped in a time that was long passed and done with.

  Kaoru had looked up at him, her expression dazed and forlorn, remains of strong grip of emotion that would not leave her yet. He had knelt down in front of her, his eyes locked into her gaze, his own filled with compassion, understanding most of what she had gone through, wishing to be able to take away that time that had slowly killed a part of her. The girl had not moved, only stared at him, face devoid of life, left with only grief and lost into a world she had wished to flee from.

  The wind blew a few dark silken strands of her hair, veiling her face from his violet gaze that inquired respectfully into her feeling. To him, at that moment, she had looked like the child she had been before the message of her father's death had come. So pure, so innocent and beautiful in all her clueless demeanor. Slowly, as to tame a wild animal, he raised a gentle hand to her face and uncovered the expression that had been masked by the long, midnight locks, tucking them behind her ear. Kaoru's blue eyes were blood stroked, irritated by all the salty water that had been poured while her silent weeping. Her cheeks, usually so soft, had turned into red, still humid with the vestiges of her tears, moisturizing a path down her cheekbones to her lips and to her jaw. Without a word, as if his gesture was self-explaining, Kenshin warped his arms around her small shivering frame.

  The young woman stayed unmoving, kneeling on the cold earth, arms left lifeless beside her, like to long appendices that were never meant to be used. He did not pushed her, only stoked her hair with a considerate and light brush of his right hand, her head slowly descending upon his shoulder to rest, feeling her long lashes caress the sensitive skin of his neck as her eyes closed, a few more drops drifting from them and ending their course within the fabric of his gi. She grew alive, but very timidly, as a flower bloomed into daylight, her hand remembering their life and slowly, hesitant, her hand took a lose grip of his clothing, returning the selfless motion and giving into the comfort that he willingly offered her.

  They had remained there, unmoving, simply drinking in the soothe that emanated from both, giving and taking at the same time. The wind calmed down, and if someone had been watching the peaceful portrait they made, they could have sworn that time had literally stood still upon seeing such a perfect picture of compassion. Her voice came in a murmur into his ear, muffled by the folds of his shirt that had pressed to her mouth, but still he could clearly hear what she had said at that time. She had slowly dredged up the reason of her being there, in his arms, and wished to finally answer his earlier question, but not quite the same as 'did you see' but still, a answer non the less. At least, enough self-explaining for him to make sense out of this madness that had played tonight.

"The reason why I ran down the corridor tonight was because of this… horrible nightmare," her voice was soft, hard for him to hear and understand each syllable. "I came here because, when I was little, I used to tend the gardens with my father, it was our way to get rid of all the frustrations. Going out here is almost like going out there, in that small garden of ours. It gives me comfort, and…" her voice wavered not able to keep talking.

"It's alright, Kaoru-dono. You don't have to explain to me," he soothed, rubbing her back. "I was just startled, that is all."

  She smiled against his shoulder, having missed that feeling of appreciation that only her late father had given her. Somehow, being held like this made all the suffering that she had passed through less painful and heavy. Confessing parts of her pass had pulled a huge weight off of her chest, but left her feeling drained and emotionally tired. The blue eyes that used to be a tornado in a wrapped package hid a yawn, her grip losing even more, her lids starting to weight more than a hundred pounds. Feeling this, Kenshin shifted and uttered in a deep, relaxing voice:

"You should get back to your room and get some rest, that you should."

  She simply nodded and reluctantly moved out of the warmth of his comforting embrace. Giving him one last small smile, one last tear escaping the helm of her lids and he gently warped it away, returning her the smile she generously gave him. She hesitated to take her leaving though, and after some pondering that lasted less the a second, she grazed her soft and delicate finger on his scared cheek. The gesture made his breath catch in his through, feeling the gentleness of her caress steer him like nothing had before. Their gaze stayed locked to each other, an eternity held within the laps of a second, leaving the two of them alone in the universe, sole witnesses of a one in a one million moment that not many had shared to that day.

  Finally, her lingering fingers simply drifted away, leaving warmth that would be the only remembrance of the short encounter of her delicate skin to his roughened flesh, and Kaoru had gotten to her feet and left the yard, leaving red headed sword man to reflect upon her confidences. As he looked upon it now, a few hours later, sited on the well as he was, grazing his purple gaze on the starlight night, he felt as if she had left pieces of her story untold. He harked back to a lingering feeling of guilt and shame that had been there as she spoke of her wandering time, coming to Kyoto. It was as if some passages had been left in the darkness. Maybe she had not been ready to reveal the entire truth, or he was simply imagining things. Nevertheless, the feeling nagged him for some reason.

  Time had passed, minutes turning into hours as time drifted as the cold wind blew and still he could feel the warmth of her hand where it had lingered longer than seconds could create. Light lavender gems stared at the sky, watching the moon give away to the sun as the velvety blue of night turned into purplish shades. A new day was about to rise, and yet he was till there, trying to understand the struggle of one soul, one spirit that had seen in a short time almost as much as his body and mind did. Maybe not all the blood, and maybe not as violent and tearing as his own experience, but still, there were some small but apparent similitude. And this made him wonder if he would ever begin to grasp what humans sought for in life that made them stay alive through such pain. Or maybe she was not a normal one? Put that way, was any of them normal to begin with? Yet another question that, most likely, would never find it's answer, just like the reason why the sun and moon kept chasing after each other, knowing perfectly that they would never truly meet.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To be continued………

 Thanks to the reviewers: This time's lucky number was…. *drum roll* ….. 9! Yeah! Evil Karyta is so happy she would kiss everyone!

Jason M. Lee: It's always nice to hear from you. You always home something constructive to say! I know that Kenshin was not a samurai, but understand that this is an alternate universe and that our dear Rurouni could have been born anywhere. But a do see your point, that is why I will no longer use the word to describe him. Be patient, all will be reviled in due time. Just trust me ok. ^=^

Rekka's Angel: Thanks for the nice review. But don't you think that awesome is a bit too much?

Imbrium: Thanks for the long review. ^-^ I felt so flattered that my favourite writer would write lil me a review! (blush, blush). Did you read the other chapters too? I hope you weren't caught by a teacher or something. It happened to me once and I got kicked out of the info lab for a whole week! (and I was in an internal all girl school, and a week without net is a torture for me!). I understand that you don't like my grammar, I really hate it myself, but I just can't help it! Even in French I have a very poor grammar… even worst orthography! It had catastrophic results on my grades last year… sniff, sniff.

Lady E: Wah, I'm glad you took the time to read it and review too!

Aerin: Yeah, I also love that scene between father and daughter. I had it running within my head for a few time but always had to delay it for this or that reason. Be patient, all question will be answered when the time will come. As for others characters from the manga… I'm not sure yet, I do have some ideas about some of them. But it still needs a good think over.  Thanks for the clearing about your comparison, now I really see your point. And thanks for titles too, it gave me the opportunity to ask my uncle to download them. ^-^ I got Seisou Hen as an Easter gift! It's even better than chocolate, don't you agree? And you French is very good, the best I've seen from foreign speakers! But I don't favour any languages.

emsdesire: Yes, I was really a bad girl to do this. I hope the wait had not been too long!

omochi: You hate him too? Great, because I'm gonna have so much fun with him! Don't get me wrong, but me not being English and all, what does clamming up means? I feel kinda stupid to ask, but if I wanna learn, I have no choice but to ask! Going to die? I won't give any commentaries about that one.

SvF-BD02-Wedge: Quite a name you got there! ^-^ Yes, English is not my first language. I'm French. It's hard been a French girl in a almost all English world… (just kidding)

Celyia: (blushing madly) Your really too kind. For that, I'll give you some of my peanut butter! (and maybe cheese cake latter.. um… cheese cake)