Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, Samurai X, or any of the characters from these two titles.

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"With every new day,

your promises fade away.

It's a fine day to see,

but the last day for me.

It's a beautiful day."

                          - Sarah Brightman, "It's a Beautiful Day"

Yahiko stood hushed as he took in the scene before him. There was the woman who had been as a sister to him, alive but weak, sitting in the middle of a cherry grove and crying. Her image was blurred and broken by the sakura petals that fell all around her. In her arms was a familiar figure, but he was not strong and spirited like before. His body was broken and withered by disease and months of war. He lay still. His bandaged chest did not rise with the breath of life as Kaoru held him and wept.

There was only one conclusion to be drawn: the great manslayer Himura Kenshin was dead. His tumultuous life was finally over.

Kaoru seemed to be in a daze as she held her husband. She didn't call him by the name she had known. "Shinta!" she cried out as the sakura came to rest in her tangled hair. "Shinta… oh, my love." She cradled his head in her arms. "Forgive me."

Yahiko looked over at Kaoru's son, Kenji, who wore a stricken expression on his face. "Father…" he whispered. Only now did Yahiko see that he carried the sakabato, his father's sword. He clutched it tightly in his left hand, so tightly it almost seemed the sword would crack the sheath and cut his palm. A tear rolled down his cheek and Yahiko looked away lest he cry before the others.

"Oh… Kaoru!" Megumi cried as she rushed forward. Yahiko's eyes darted to Kaoru. She was still crying, but she seemed to let go of her husband now. Her fingers brushed his pale cheekbones and her eyes became cloudy. As she fell backwards, Yahiko saw that she was as white as a fresh snow. Her thin hands came to rest on the grass before Megumi caught her head. For a moment all was silent, then she turned back to everyone who stood waiting. "She's just fainted. We should get her home quickly, though."

Yahiko carried the dead weight of Kenshin's small body while Megumi hoisted Kaoru over her shoulder, and they began to take the road back to Kaoru's home. The young man stared in front of him, not daring to look at the face of his longtime friend and senpai. The sakura trees almost seemed to mourn the great swordsman as his corpse was carried by them. Yahiko had to keep his eye focused on the road in order to stay upright; else he would faint out of shock and desecrate Kenshin's body by dropping it in the dirt. I will not do that to him, he thought determinedly. He has never deserved it. His life was too short and too great. Kenshin had once said that he wouldn't live a long life. He had been right, and Yahiko had agreed that his senpai wouldn't live past his own youth. He had thought, when he was a boy, somehow there would be a swordsman who turned out to be greater than Kenshin, who would rise to the challenge and slaughter the manslayer. Shishio could have been that swordsman, Yahiko thought. He was certainly mad enough to wield that ungodly skill and sword, but he died first. There were others who were a close match for the hitokiri battousai: Saito, for instance. The one man Kenshin couldn't defeat in his years as an assassin. But none had ever defeated Kenshin, either. Not one. He had died of natural causes, a very unusual thing for a samurai, even for a rurounin.

Yahiko felt stronger as he thought of the power Kenshin had possessed in his life. He learned to protect using the sword, and he defeated many enemies without killing a single one himself. He turned down so many offers to fight as the Battousai again, all so he could redeem himself. After so many years of his life had been spent killing, Yahiko thought that Kenshin was amazingly steadfast in his new cause. He had saved so many people… Megumi, Kaoru, Sanosuke… he had saved Yahiko from death several times. He seemed to have saved the world at one point. Just a couple of years ago, he had gone to war. Yahiko knew in his heart that Kenshin had killed no one. He had returned home today, his soul cleansed of the blood he had shed in his earlier years. That was the only reason he could come back.

But could he still save those who loved him? Yahiko's eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at Kaoru, whom death had almost fallen upon earlier that very same day. She now held a grey pallor in her face, and her hair was drenched in sweat from her sickness. Megumi carried her as though she were a feather. She still looked to be dying. Would having seen her husband one last time save her still? Yahiko doubted it very much. He had watched her, the woman who had trained him and been like his sister, fall in love with Kenshin. She had dedicated herself to him and promised herself to always stand by him. He had watched them together often. They were very happy when they were near each other. He had watched over Kaoru when they were apart. She seemed to be in a stupor at those times, always sitting and watching the door, waiting long hours for a sign of the one she loved.

This time it had been too long. Kaoru had waited for two long years, a strange sadness slowly descending on her. Yahiko had feared for her health. When it was time for the soldiers to return home, he had thought that Kenshin would be there with them. But he was not. Kaoru became ill, and she had grown weaker with each passing day. She still waited for Kenshin with that same dedication, though, as she had in the past. She had held on for his sake. But today she had almost given up. Could Kenshin's brief presence have healed her in any way?

Now you're sounding desperate, Yahiko, he told himself. She's very sick. The death of her husband is only going to make it worse.

Then Kaoru would die. She had only a few days at the most.

Yahiko squeezed his eyes shut to prevent his tears from coming. His shoulders shook as he wept in silence, and anger burst within his heart. Kaoru couldn't die! It just wasn't right! She was too young, she had a son to finish raising… was there no hope left for her? Why did she have to be so damn devoted to Kenshin? Why did she have to die for him?

This man was dead, but he still hurt people!

He hurt all his friends with his death!

He was killing Kaoru!

"Kenshin, you still slay us! You slay us from within the shroud of your own death!" Yahiko shouted. "How dare you!"

He raised his arms to throw the manslayer's body to the earth. But he found nothing in his hands. Opening his eyes, Yahiko saw he was kneeling at the side of Kaoru. She was asleep, her brow covered in cold sweat. The man looked down at his tensed hands, these hands that had, so shortly before, intended to abandon his friend's remains. Even as he looked at them, they relaxed and settled on his knees. Gazing at Kaoru now, he saw a trace of a smile on her face. She was happy to go; happy to be with the man she loved. Yahiko shamed himself as his tears fell and splashed on the floor. How could he have blamed Kenshin? It was her choice. He had never forced anyone to do anything for himself. If Kaoru wanted to die, she would die.

Here it was her last day, and Yahiko sat crying by her side. Kaoru listened to his sobbing from her sleep. She wanted to reach out to him, her younger brother, and wrap him in her arms. She wanted to tell him she was all right; that she wanted him to be all right, too. Yahiko, she wanted to say, Yahiko, my dear friend, don't cry for me. You should be happy now that I am going. You should know that I wish you all the best. Shinta would want that for you too. Shinta… she had known him for many years, but not by that name. He had called himself Kenshin, after a famous manslayer. But he was not that battousai which the swordsmen knew him as. He was a gentle and kind defender of the innocent, and the one she loved. But nobody knew his name except for her, Himura Kaoru, and the one who had given him the name Kenshin. No, not even Yahiko knew. How unjust it seemed as he sat next to her, mourning her and mourning a man he knew by a false name. She would have told him… she would have spoken to him. But she could not move. She could not speak. She may have already been dead; Kaoru was not sure. She could only listen to Yahiko and gaze into the black sphere of death.

"Kaoru… Kenshin… may you rest peacefully." Kaoru heard Yahiko stand to leave. His voice had renewed some strength in her, though. She opened her eyes. "Shinta."

Yahiko turned, eyes wide with astonishment. "What… what did you say?"

"Shinta," Kaoru repeated, her gaze shifting to him. There was a surprising strength in her voice. "He told me before he left that his true name was Shinta, not Kenshin."

Yahiko smiled sadly and leaned on the doorway. "Thank you for telling me."

"I'm glad I got the chance," Kaoru's voice had weakened again. "Yahiko…"

"Yes?"

Kaoru reached out her hand. "Help me, please…"

Yahiko suddenly understood what he had to do. He smiled willingly. "Of course, dear sister." He pulled her up and rested her arm on his shoulders. She was as light as a feather; her body had withered away so much.

Kaoru couldn't thank him now. Her voice failed her again. She had to concentrate with each step she took and was exhausted by the time they rounded the first corner. Yahiko had to eventually carry her, but it seemed no effort at all. He was not burdened with sadness now; he knew that no one else would do this. Kaoru had known he would understand.

The woman stared ahead of Yahiko's strong arms as she seemed to float through the cool evening air. The ground was covered in sakura and appeared as a delicate pink snow. Eventually, they came to a place where there were fewer petals covering the ground. The dark earth was soft and freshly tilled, and at the head of this earthen region was a cross. Upon it was hung a white scarf. Yahiko stopped at this cross and set Kaoru's feet down. "Can you stand?" he asked. She nodded and left him, limping to the middle of the dark square.

Kaoru turned back to Yahiko and managed a small bow. "Thank you, my little brother." Yahiko bowed in return and smiled sadly as he left her.

Kaoru stood staring at the cross, waiting for something, anything, to happen. She closed her eyes and felt the strength of her husband envelop her, his body beneath her feet, his soul all around her. Her weak and frail body was bound to her soul momentarily by this strength. It bound her to the earth and commanded her to stand. Still, she committed herself to fulfilling the promise that she had made.

 But now her body resisted this binding force. She was coughing, her diaphragm contracting beneath her, her lungs closing to more air. A stream of blood and bile fell from her mouth, and her knees gave way. Kaoru let the sickness take her, spilling tears from her eyes and wrenching her life through her mouth. She laid her head on the earth and felt warmth and comfort throughout. "Shinta," she whispered, "let us go home together. Wait for me… Shinta… I love you."

Kaoru died moments later, smiling as she had always promised she would.