Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic
Rurouni Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version (c) N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment
All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale.
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Endurance
By Chiruken
Chapter 6
"Is that her kimono?" She jumped at the soft inquiry so close beside her and nodded, the movement jerky as she pressed a hand against her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly. She hadn't heard his approach. Somehow, she always forgot that he could move silently, undetectable. Perhaps it was because he usually took great care to make noise to alert them all to his presence. It appeared that the instincts of the hitokiri never faded, merely became easier to control and hide. The thought left her feeling more than a little uneasy. What else did he hide? How much more of his past would begin to emerge now that his calm had been broken? How many years had it taken for him to learn to mask the instincts of the killer he'd been? Were any of them safe now that the seal had broken? "May I have it please?" Though the words were polite, the tone implied that he wouldn't take no for an answer. She felt a shiver of apprehension race up her spine. There was no doubt in her mind that he would take it by force if necessary.
She frantically pushed her rising fear aside. She had Kaoru to think of. She couldn't afford to give in to her own secret terrors. Stepping back, she gave him a sharp look and tightened her grip on the garment. "Why?" She couldn't think of a single reason why the rurouni would want to have Kaoru's ruined kimono. It would only serve as a bitter reminder of the ordeal she'd just endured. Why would he want it? It made no sense to her. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he'd finally snapped and his irrational behavior was just the beginning. She prayed she was wrong, but his strange request left no room for other options. She hoped she'd be able to keep him away from Kaoru long enough for him to return to his senses. The young woman didn't need the added stress of Kenshin's delusional behavior to pile onto her own trauma. The last thing any of them needed was for Kenshin to revert back into Battousai. His reputation alone was enough to strike fear into the bravest of men. How would having him there in person, without the calm serenity of the rurouni to balance him out, affect them all? She could feel their little group based on friendship beginning to unravel and it terrified her more than the stories she'd heard of his activities during the revolution. They were her family. If they fell apart, what would become of her? She'd be alone again, facing the world by herself without the support of her friends whom she regarded as her surrogate family.
His eyes narrowed, watching the emotions playing across the woman's features, not liking the way she was looking at him so narrowly, dark eyes glittering in the half light of the moon shining down on them. It made his skin crawl to see such a look in her eyes. What she was thinking, he had no clue. He also didn't think he wanted to know if her expression was any indication of her thoughts. He fought to maintain his tenuous hold on his already frayed temper. The night's events had whittled away his usual calm and Megumi's attitude wasn't helping. He drew in a calming breath before replying. "I wish to burn it, that I do." He purposely injected a soothing note to his tone, watching as she slowly relaxed her stance. He didn't want to know what she thought he wanted with the ruined garment. He had a feeling her thoughts had been less than flattering. He reached out and tugged it from her white-knuckled hold. "I don't want her to ever see it again to remind her of tonight." Turning, he tossed it into the fire, watching as the flames caught at the silk, engulfing it and destroying the once lovely kimono. "If only memories could be so easily destroyed…" He of all people should know how utterly devastating memories could be. He had enough bad ones to remember to go around ten-fold. He didn't want Kaoru to experience nightmares night after night with no end as he did. He wondered if there was a way to prevent her from dreaming. He would have to ask Megumi after she'd had a chance to calm herself. He sighed inwardly. It was disconcerting to have the usually self-contained doctor so close to hysterics. He felt a stab of uneasiness. Kaoru was the center of their close knit group. Without her, would they pull away from each other? He didn't want to be cast adrift again. He'd finally found acceptance amongst these people, his first true friends in all the years of his memory. Without them, he was alone, existing, not living. There had to be a way to overcome this. He had to find a way to fix things for Kaoru. He just didn't know what he, of all people, could possibly do and it was tearing him apart inside.
She felt a twinge of guilt for her earlier suspicions. She should have known he intended to destroy the evidence of Kaoru's pain, not wishing her to have a physical reminder of her ordeal. She nodded and slowly, reluctantly, moved to place her arms around him, sighing as she closed her eyes, feeling the coiled strength in his taut muscles. He, too, would need time to recover from the events of that night. "She will need you, Ken-san. More now than ever. Please don't do anything that will tear you away from her." Stepping back, she hurried to the house.
Staring at the small window above him, he closed his hands into fists, hesitating before glancing over his shoulder in the direction Megumi had gone. Assured that the lady doctor was out of sight he crossed to the door, pausing before slowly opening it and stepping inside. Closing his eyes, he fought to hold back the emotions tumbling through his consciousness before stepping forward. What he was doing was wrong. He had no right to intrude on Kaoru's moment of privacy, especially so soon after the shock she'd endured that night. But he needed to see her, alone, without the doctor hovering over them. He needed to reassure himself that she was, indeed, alive. The possibilities of the other likely outcome had never left his mind. If he hadn't found her when he did, there was no telling what could have happened to her. If her attacker had been the one to find her, he knew full well that she never would have escaped with her life. Men like that rarely left witnesses to their brutal crimes.