Heya!
This is a very old piece - in fact about the first RK fanfic I ever made,
over a year ago - that I just dug up from my files and beat into some
sort of shape. I don't want to spoil it for anybody but personally it
looks a little overwrought and heavyhanded and totally farfetched to
me... I was still kind of groping for the right approach at that time,
see. And I didn't really plan it for public consumption. Sumimasen!!
Well, you might want to read it for yourself anyway. Drop me a line
later to tell me what you think, k?
WARNING THOUGH: Tomoe haters probably better stay away. Don't say I
didn't warn you.
Thanks! And I hope you enjoy this... whatever it is. Prepare for
some huge angst.
Truly (apologetically) yours,
Keishiko
xxx
MOONLIGHT ON SNOW
by Keishiko
The dojo was silent. Kenshin heard the quiet ticking of the clock
inside the house and the soft, regular thumping of the bamboo pump
outside. The sounds enhanced and emphasized the stillness instead of
breaking it. He guessed the time to be around midnight. He turned
restlessly in his futon, snuggled deep beneath the blanket. It was a
cool night for late summer. Fall must be close at hand.
The fight with Enishi was only two days away. Kenshin's days were
filled with intense activity - bracing himself physically as well
as spiritually for the battle. He was also busy around the dojo.
Kaoru-dono would not allow him to neglect his usual chores.
"I don't want a dirty dojo at the end of all this," she had teased
him, and although the anxiety that lurked behind the cheerful blue
of her eyes had not escaped him, he had let it pass.
Kaoru. She was taking it well, the overwhelming pressure of the past
few days. Kenshin closed his eyes, willed an image of her - eyes
bright and laughing - to come to his mind. But it was dispelled all
too quickly with his memory of her blue eyes, clouded over with
worry and fear.
Kenshin sighed. All because of me, he thought gravely. My doing.
Kaoru-dono... to have marred the innocent light of your eyes with
such darkness...
Thinking of Kaoru made him think of Tomoe. The difference between
the two women was striking - Tomoe, older and more sophisticated,
whom he had met in a sake house; Kaoru, with all the vibrance of her
innocent youth. One was cool, distant, silent winter, while the other
would always be bright, warm summer, noisy with good cheer.
Two women, now bound up in a struggle where the past and future
clashed together. Enishi, fighting for Tomoe's death. Kenshin, fighting
for life - his, and Kaoru's, and those of the rest of his friends.
Kenshin rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. Two smiles in
his mind's eye - one, sad and serene, the other, bright and happy.
Two swords - Enishi's watou and Kenshin's sakabatou.
Kenshin closed his eyes again and thought:
Who will win, I wonder?
"Your hair's different..."
Kenshin looked up. A tall figure was silhouetted in the doorway, her long
hair moving slightly with the wind. Kenshin caught his breath sharply.
"Tomoe..."
"Kenshin." Tomoe smiled. She must have moved, because the next moment she
was kneeling by his side. Overcome by a sudden urge, Kenshin tried to
embrace her, but found he was, somehow, immobile. Frustrated, he could
only stare at her.
"I've missed you," said Tomoe softly.
"I've missed you, too." Tears wet his eyes. "More than you know."
"Oh, but I do." Tenderly she smoothed his auburn hair, touched his cheek.
Kenshin felt nothing. "I've been watching you, all these years. You've
been doing well."
"I've been lonely." Kenshin's voice grated. "I wish I could touch you.
Why can't I touch you?"
Tomoe shook her head. Kenshin felt nothing when he should have felt her
soft hair brushing against his shoulder.
Frustration surged through him. Even as tears cooled his hot face he
struggled to break free of whatever paralysis had overcome him. Finally,
with a rush of gladness, he found and seized Tomoe's slender white arm.
For a moment it was cool, solid, reassuring in his hand.
Then his fingers closed on air.
Tomoe did not move.
Kenshin fell to his knees, weeping silently, his shoulders heaving.
Tomoe laid a hand on his shoulder - an ephemeral soft touch, as if a
butterfly had alit for a moment before flying off again. Tomoe shed no
tears, but the sorrow in her dark eyes was enough.
Just as when I last saw her alive, thought Kenshin. Sad. So very sad...
His sob died in his throat.
"Why are you here?" he asked quietly.
She stood up. The sibilant rustle of her kimono could have been the
whisper of trees outside.
"Let me go, Kenshin," she said.
He looked up at her. "What?"
"Let me go." She watched him rise to his feet before her, gently wiped
away his tears. Her pale skin gleamed in the dim moonlight. "You've held
on to me all these years. Even as you have continued your life a part of
you still stays in the past, refusing to let go. It's holding you back."
She turned away. "And it's holding *me* back." She raised a hand to trace
the scar on his cheek. "It's time to let this fade."
"Maybe I don't want it to," Kenshin said.
Tomoe's shoulders quivered in a sigh. Kenshin stared at her, almost
horrified.
"Tomoe," he said at last, "perhaps time has dulled your memory, perhaps
the sleep of the dead has. But I cut you down. Don't you remember? It was
my sword that became stained with your blood--" His voice was choked
with tears.
Smiling sadly, she took him in her arms. He felt cradled by an invisible,
cool, and gentle wind, smelling sweetly of white plum. He bowed his head
and cried softly, his body shuddering with each sob.
"Weep, dearest," Tomoe murmured. "Weep now. Weep as you wept when you held
me in your arms, when I was dying and the blood from your cheek made stains
on my kimono. Yes, I have forgotten the deed, but I remember the day.
Your tears are still the same."
"Why did you do it, Tomoe?" he asked brokenly. Raising his head, he
looked into her eyes. "Why did you get in the way? Why did you take
my blow?"
A shadow darkened her face; she started to turn away. "I--"
"Tomoe." Kenshin's voice was soft. "Onegai. Onegai, answer me."
Tomoe shook her head, would have moved away, but Kenshin caught hold
of her arm. Though he could feel nothing in his hand, he saw Tomoe
stop, her eyes flicker toward him, pinpoints of light and darkness.
"All these years... That one question. Please answer it."
Tomoe looked away. "Who knows why I did it? I do not think of it
anymore. You would have died had I not interfered. Perhaps I loved
you too much to let you die. Perhaps I felt it was just punishment
for leading you into their trap. Perhaps I saw in you another
Kiyosato - another innocent, throwing away life for love. Or perhaps
I simply wanted the peace of death.
"You are free to believe what you will, Kenshin." Her voice was as
chill as it was gentle. "But know that it was my choice - mine and
mine alone. Do not inflict it upon yourself."
Kenshin's head was bowed, brilliant hair hiding the shadowed eyes.
For a moment he could not speak, remembering himself, regaining
his composure.
Then, "Why are you here?" he asked.
"You fight Enishi," said Tomoe. "My brother is good. Very good -
and very clever." Her dark-eyed gaze cut into him. "What is dear to
you, Kenshin? Your life, or your foolish obsessions?"
Kenshin's eyes glinted gold. "You have gone too far--" he hissed,
reaching for his sword where it lay beneath his pillow.
"I'm not finished," Tomoe interrupted coolly. "Listen to me...
Battousai."
Hearing the name, Kenshin eased his hand away from the hilt, slid
the sword into his sash, but rose warily to his feet nonetheless.
His eyes deepened to an angry violet that was almost black.
Tomoe moved nearer. Moonlight shone off her black eyes, her long,
lustrous hair, made her radiant, like new-fallen snow gleaming in the
light of the full moon. Kenshin felt his heart tighten as he stared
at her, rapt. How like a star she was - cold, pure, silent, bright,
and infinitely, hopelessly distant.
Tomoe was continuing. "Enishi is a greatly skilled fighter, and has
associates almost as excellent. But he has a weakness. He fights
with the memory of me within his heart. My ghost to him is like a
stone, weighing down his soul. He cannot move, cannot think, without
relying on his recollection of me for guidance. That is the bare,
unguarded chink in all his armor, past all his weapons."
Tomoe arched an eyebrow; her tones softened, grew dryer.
"Unfortunately, you seem to rather share that characteristic with
him. That is what needs to be eliminated. Otherwise, the match will
be truly even. And you will lose."
Kenshin sighed and closed his eyes. The sakabatou at his side seemed
unusually heavy, weighed down his movement. He fumbled with the sash,
let the sword clatter noisily to the floor.
"It feels so much lighter without it," he said.
"Keep it on," said Tomoe. There was an edge to her mild voice.
"Why bother?" Kenshin stepped forward. The earlier paralysis had
completely disappeared, and he felt furious, full of energy. He
clenched his fist. "Why should I? Why should I take it up again
when it's brought me nothing but trouble and grief..." He bowed his
head. "It made me who I was - the Hitokiri. It brought me to the Ishin
Shishi, made me an enemy to so many - the thousands who died at my
hands, who died at the hands of the cause I believed worth fighting
for. It brought me you, only to take you away again--" His voice
faltered, broke off.
Sighing, he closed his eyes. "I'm tired, Tomoe." Painfully he swallowed.
"After thirteen years of this, I'm tired."
"We're all tired." Tomoe watched him coolly. "Don't think you're alone."
"Aren't I?" Kenshin's voice was harsh. "Perhaps you are tired, but at
least you are granted the peace of death! I'm not even allowed that..."
"You are allowed *more*!" Tomoe's eyes flared. "You have *life*,
Kenshin! You have found friends who care about you, a home, a calling.
Do you value them so little? The roosterhead, the vixen, the boy who
idolizes you, the girl who loves you--"
Kenshin shut his eyes, seeing Kaoru before him. Kaoru with the laughing
eyes... dissolving into Tomoe's cold, clear gaze, in a face that was
pale as the moon and just as beautiful.
"I miss *you*," Kenshin breathed.
Tomoe fell silent.
Kenshin wanted to hold her, but couldn't, so he stared at her,
longing in his eyes. "I wish you were back."
"I'm sorry." Tomoe shook her head, stepping backward. "But we
can't do anything about it."
He sighed. "No, we can't." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
Tomoe watched him. "Don't throw your life away."
"I know."
"No matter how much you've lost, you've gained as well--"
"I have." Though it could not be seen in the fall of his hair over
his face, Kenshin smiled faintly.
Kaoru with the laughing blue eyes...
Tomoe's gaze was clear and calm. "Don't let it go to waste."
"I..." He shrugged, then smiled, more genuinely. "I'll try."
Tomoe picked up his sword. Avoiding her compassionate gaze, Kenshin
took it as she held it out to him.
"As that sword has brought you misery and sadness, so it will help bring
you happiness and peace. Only a little further, Kenshin. Only a little more."
"I'll make it." Kenshin set his mouth. "I must." He paused. "Tomoe?"
Her dark eyes were bottomless. "Yes?"
"About Enishi...."
She shook her head. "I'm not sure what I can do with him, but I'll see."
"Thank you. And about what you said..." Kenshin sighed. "I'm not quite
sure if I can, but I'm going to try."
"Sometimes that's all we can do, Kenshin. Sometimes it's enough." She smiled,
as Kenshin hung his head. "Rest now. You need to."
He was lying down again on the futon, the blankets pulled up around him.
Tomoe knelt by his side, glimmering in the shaft of dim moonlight coming in
through the window. Shadow flickered across the light, and as Tomoe seemed
to vanish, something like fear shot through Kenshin.
"Tomoe!" he gasped, sitting up, reaching out his hand. She was there,
smiling at him sadly. Relieved, he lay back.
"I thought--" he murmured.
"Don't fear," Tomoe whispered. Cool wind - or was it her hand? - brushed
Kenshin's face. Kenshin's eyes fluttered shut in spite of himself. "Be happy.
I will never fade. I am always with you, Kenshin." He smiled. "Remember
that..."
His eyes opened and he sat up with a jolt. He lay in his bed in the bare
little room, the shadow of the bamboo outside playing on the walls. There
was no one there.
He sighed - perhaps more in disappointment than in anything else. Then he
lay down and pulled the blanket over himself, and went to sleep.
I am always with you.
Remember that, Kenshin.
Outside the moon shone softly and touched the dojo pond with silver.
The bamboo pump slumped into place, free of its load of water, marking the
passage of time in slow, even, steadfast beats.
- owari -
Ororororooo.... It isn't my best work at all (do I have any best work???) but I felt like serving it up to you folks anyway... I hope you liked it...
I made this right after reading the first few manga issues where Yukishiro Enishi is introduced. In this story Tomoe seems cold, detached, but at the same time she seems to care what happens to Kenshin in the battle. After all, Tomoe herself was never clearly defined. I think she really did care for Kenshin, but not the way Kenshin truly fell in love with her... I tried to portray that in this piece, and I hope I succeeded. Arigatou for reading.
