glossary:
ara? = general expression of wonderment / surprise
demo = but... but...
hontou wa = that's true.
iya = no, plain form
Kikoeru ka? = Can you hear [me]?
koko = here
mata, gomen nasai = literally, "Again, I'm sorry."
okaasan, 'kaasan = mother
onna-sensei = literally, lady doctor
sakura = cherry blossoms ^.^
sou ka = is that so? (also, in a sense, when the Japanese say it, "Is that so.") ^.^
wakatta = I understand. I know.
yoku wa nai wa. = literally, "not good"; as in, "That's not good." ("wa" as an ending particle is commonly used by women.)
* a note on the glossary: My apologies if each chapter's glossary doesn't always list all the terms in that chapter. But I only do that if the term has already been used before. It will help you exercise your memory de gozaru! ^.^
Yoake Mae no Yami ni
by Mirune Keishiko
Twelve: Those who Gather, Those who Leave
"He'll grow out of it. They always do, though they never admit it. It's only a matter of time."
"Megumi-san, from the looks of these letters, he hasn't stopped thinking about you in fifteen years. Don't you think if he were to grow out of it, he'd have already done it by now?"
"Idle dreaming, nothing more. It's easy to immerse yourself in a fantasy as long as it never becomes real. If he stays long enough, he'll realize that it could never actually happen."
"Is that what you tell yourself?"
"...It's bad enough being lonely without getting caught up in false hopes and fantasies, Misao-chan."
"...You think I don't know that?"
Megumi groaned out loud and opened her eyes. From the looks of the moonlight glowing softly through the shoji panes, it would be some time yet before midnight; she had spent the last hour tossing and turning. Though it had been a week since her brief conversation with Misao at the weasel girl's birthday dinner, she could still replay every word, every sigh and hesitant pause in her mind, could still vividly recall that sympathetic, knowing look in the bright green eyes.
She was only trying to help. For the hundredth time, Megumi told herself this. She was still having trouble accepting Misao's attempts at advice. First, Megumi was six years older and considered the effervescent Misao a mere child despite her thirty-odd years; second and more to the point, Megumi hated being wrong, as Misao's innocent interrogation had forced her to inwardly admit.
It's not that I'm wrong. Megumi smiled wryly at herself in the darkness. I'm just... thinking in circles.
Exhaling irritably, she turned onto her side, burrowed deeper into her blankets, and shut her eyes. It took her another full minute of trying desperately to fall asleep before she finally shoved the sheets off herself and stood up.
Soon, wrapped in one of her warmest coats and carrying her medical kit, she was tapping lightly at Kaoru's door. At Kenji's quiet assent, she bustled in, putting on a cheery smile for the boy's benefit.
"Let me take over tonight, Kenji-kun. You need the sleep more than I—"
But her smile slipped and her voice died unexpectedly in her throat as she found that Kenji was not alone with his mother in the room. Sanosuke was sitting next to him, looking up at her with dark, wary eyes that brought a whole week's worth of awkwardness and uneasy avoidance rushing back to Megumi's memory.
"Sensei?" prompted Kenji, his tone quietly amused.
Megumi turned abruptly toward Kaoru's futon, annoyance tightening her grasp on her medical kit. Somehow it seemed everyone in the dojo knew about her and Sanosuke. Were they that obvious?
"Never mind," she sighed, trying to forget that Sano was even present. "How is your mother?"
"She hasn't awoken since this morning, but she hasn't seemed to be in pain."
"I just changed the transfusion this afternoon... Yoku wa nai wa." Kneeling by the bed, Megumi reached for Kaoru's arm where it lay limply at her side—and gasped when her fingers brushed the younger woman's skin. In a room Kenji kept almost too warm by diligently tending the braziers, Kaoru was icy cold to the touch.
"Kenji, hot water and all the ice you can find." Quickly shrugging out of her heavy cloak, Megumi laid it on top of Kaoru's already doubled blankets. Kenji sprang to his feet, and after a moment of shock was out the door. Sano too had risen to his feet; he shut the door behind the boy to conserve the room's precious heat. "Wake Yahiko and ask for old blankets, toriatama. Then help Tsubame rip them up into strips."
Megumi had hardly finished speaking before Sanosuke had gone. Kaoru's face seared her hand, and only now that Megumi was leaning close toward her did the doctor see the sweat finely beading her forehead. Cursing under her breath, ignoring the discomfort of the hot, stuffy room, she moved to the bottom of the bed and, yanking up the blankets, began briskly rubbing Kaoru's cold, limp feet. Wordlessly she noted that the toes were turning blue.
"Here, use these." As Kenji entered bearing a bucket, Megumi tossed at him two of Yahiko's forgotten hankachiis. "Her forehead and shoulders. There isn't any more?" She heard the shrill note of despair in her own voice as she glanced into the bucket and saw only small slivers of thin, crumbling ice.
"The frost has only just begun, sensei. But I sent one of the servants to the river for more." And Megumi knew steel-edged control when she saw it; there was a glint in Kenji's eyes and a barely audible quiver in his voice as he spoke, swiftly layering ice into cloth.
She nodded and bit her own trembling lip as she looked back down at her work, fiercely blinking back the tears in her eyes. Kaoru moaned softly. Megumi quickly covered up her feet and moved to brush away Kaoru's wayward hair as Kenji placed the cold compress on her forehead.
"Kaoru-chan? Kikoeru ka?"
Kaoru made no response, and Megumi pushed away her blankets in time to see her chest slowly rise and slowly fall, as though that single breath cost her. In horror Megumi saw that the sunken cheeks were taking on a grayish tinge.
"Kaoru-chan! Iya! You will fight it!" She was barely conscious of having spoken aloud. Megumi placed hot hands on Kaoru's cheeks and shuddered at the chill of the skin. She glanced around desperately, but Kenji was already occupied with rubbing Kaoru's cold feet as she had done and could not be spared.
"Takani-san. Is there anything I can do?"
The firm, quiet voice sent a wave of relief washing over Megumi. "Arigatou," she breathed, smiling gratefully at Aoshi, who had entered the room with barely a whisper of a draft through the shoji. "I just need someone to stay here and talk to her while I prepare something. If Misao-chan can—"
"Koko." Misao's voice was unusually subdued as she stood in the doorway.
Megumi felt her spirits sink further. Misao subdued did not bode well.
"Daijoubu." Megumi tried to smile, groping for the remnants of her courage. "If you'll help me in the kitchen, I have something that might help."
As the two women hurried down the corridor, Megumi distantly registered hurried whispers and hasty footsteps, the occasional muffled wail, as the sleepy dojo began to stir. She and Misao nearly ran into Sanosuke sprinting down the stairs with an armful of linen. Tsubame followed close behind, various small bottles clinking in her hands, experienced with her own children's illnesses.
"Hot compress on her feet and legs, Tsubame-chan, and that liniment is a good idea. The fever must be brought down from her head."
A tremulous "hai!" and Misao and Megumi stood aside to let them pass. Yahiko too came down the stairs, though much more slowly, and his eyes were shadowed. Megumi could not bear to meet his haunted gaze and nearly ran on to the kitchen, leaving Misao hurrying after her.
"Prepare a cup, and pour a little pot of that hot water for a tea." Despite trembling fingers, Megumi's measurements were swift and precise, and soon a mix of several herbs and powders lay in a neat pile on a white paper square. "Kaoru-chan must drink this. Take this to her and I'll follow soon with another treatment."
As soon as Misao had vanished through the doorway, nimbly balancing her tray even as she flew down the hall, Megumi gave in and sagged weakly against the oven, at last powerless against emotions that shook her and the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Kami-sama! she gasped voicelessly, clutching at the counter as her legs gave way beneath her. Kaoru!
"Megitsune." A low, rough voice was in her ear, and strong arms caught hold of her; unseeing through her tears, she clutched at him for dear life. "Wakatta. It's all right."
"Iya! It's not all right!" Her slender hands fisted in the cloth of his jacket. "She's dying, Sano!"
"We know... Megumi."
He tried to hold her close, but she was rigid in his arms; and as Sano hesitated, she pushed him away, dragging the sleeve of her yukata across her wet cheeks so roughly that it left a bright red streak.
"Oi, what are you doing?" he asked, more astonished than angry as she pulled a vial of clear liquid from her medicine shelves and poured its contents into a glass jar.
"There's one more thing that I can try." Her voice was taut, forced through gritted teeth, as she caught up two other half full bottles and quickly added white and brown powders to the liquid. "Till it fails, I can't afford to waste time. I'll make artificial lungs to breathe for her if I have to—"
"Megumi, stop this!" Lunging across the small room, Sano seized her wrist. The small iron tripod she was holding fell to the floor with a loud clang.
"Now look what you've done!" Megumi's eyes were feral with rage. Twisting out of Sanosuke's grasp, Megumi snatched up the tripod. Sano fell back despite himself at the heat of the anger that simmered around her. "Keep out of the way, baka. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to make the same mistake I made with Ken-san. I won't let her die."
"That's enough, Megumi." Sanosuke stepped in front of her. Furious, she glared up at him, but he held her gaze with his own. "You can't force her to stay alive. That's not what a doctor does."
"Force her?" The tears had come again, spilling over onto her cheeks, and Megumi felt even more of her tenuous self-control slip from her fingers. "Wh-what are you saying?"
And even as she spoke, she heard the hollowness in her own tones, knew that her all-too-false anger was gone, had given way at last to the morbid fear that coiled and shifted and screamed in the pit of her stomach.
First Ken-san, now Kaoru...
She averted her eyes, suddenly ashamed of the nakedness of her despair.
"I'm saying you should stop this. And let her go." A rough fingertip brushed her cheek; the honest, gentle sorrow in his voice made her turn her face away, knowing she could no longer fight off her grief, yet too proud to let him see her cry yet again. "This has gone on long enough. Let her go, Megumi."
Kaoru-chan...
Her own words, heavy with spite and pain and weariness. Everyone leaves. That's just the way it is.
"I can't let her go," she whispered; and dimly she realized her voice was muffled in his jacket, for he had gathered her close, fingers softly stroking her long hair, arms strong and safe around her as if he knew that she felt too weak to stand. "I can't let her go, Sano. She's all I have left."
Because everyone leaves.
Because Kaoru always smiled when they met, and greeted her as fondly as if the years of absence had never happened; because Kaoru was so strong even as her body faded away; because she spoke of love and hope and trust, and had leaned against Megumi when it had been so long since anyone had dared to approach the haughty onna-sensei. Because when she laughed, truly laughed, it was if fifteen years had never passed—and it was summer again in the dojo, with Kenshin's laundry bright in the sunshine, Kaoru wailing over another spoiled lunch, Sano grappling with Yahiko in the dust, and Megumi young and not yet too proud to admit that she loved their odd group as much as she had loved the family she had lost.
Everyone leaves.
And Megumi sank against Sanosuke, the tears flowing like blood from a heart that was breaking yet again.
Can I let you go, Kaoru-chan? Am I strong enough, the way you were strong enough to let go of Kenshin?
Then, as she clung to him, she realized dimly that he was also holding her, as tightly as though he himself could not stand alone; and that he also was weeping as she had never before known him to do. Saddened beyond words that he should share her grief, Megumi's own sobs subsided as she curved her own hand against his head, tenderly stroking the smooth dark hair, feeling her own hair grow damp and hot with tears so like her own.
For him, perhaps—she drew a long, unsteady breath as one more tear trailed slowly down her cheek—he who would be mine, if I asked... I will try to be strong, as he has been for me.They remained in each other's arms long after their grief had eased, neither speaking, neither moving, each finding in the other a silent strength and comfort that satisfied them far better than the most passionate kiss.
At the well, two figures also shared an embrace. It was Misao's uncontrollable sobbing that broke the hush, but she also knew, by the sunless look in his eyes, that Aoshi needed her to mourn aloud the way he no longer could.
Tsubame rarely felt stronger than her fighter husband. But tonight, feeling oddly braced by a heartfelt understanding words could not express, she smiled through her tears as she gathered her sleepy-eyed children about her in the hall. In a rare display of affection, Yahiko silently enfolded his little family in his arms. With little more than a look and a squeeze of her hand on his, Tsubame lent her own quiet strength to the man who was losing a teacher, a sister, and a mother all in one night.
"Kenji-kun? I thought I heard more than one person in here... Was I dreaming?"
Kenji squeezed his mother's thin hand, trying to see through his tears as he tucked her hair more neatly around her. Kaoru's one vanity had always been her beautiful black hair. "You weren't dreaming, 'kaasan. Megumi-sensei was here a while ago. And Aoshi-san just went out with Misao-basan."
"Sou ka. Aoshi-san always knew what was going on without a single word being spoken." Kaoru's chuckle made only a ghost of a sound. "Ara?" Something cold and wet had spattered onto her cheek. Kaoru turned her head searchingly, but her tired eyes were too dim. "Are you crying, my son?"
Kenji doubled over in pain that was almost physical. "H-hai, okaasan." Hot, heavy tears struck the wooden floor. "S-sumanai."
"Iya." Kaoru's voice, though hardly more than a sigh, was as stoically cheerful as always. "Cry as much as you want. Not all tears are weakness."
"Okaasan." Kenji's voice was low and tortured as he gathered his mother close, appalled at how light and limp her body was. "You can't go. There's still so much I need to know. Still so much I need you to show me."
"Hontou wa. I am the one who should apologize." Her eyes were shut, and Kaoru's faint words came in bursts as she labored for enough breath with which to speak. "Demo, you don't have to worry. You worry too much. You got that from Shinta and me. You forget, Kenji-kun, just like I sometimes forgot"—a smile flickered across her mouth, but it obviously demanded more effort than she could make—"you don't have to be alone. We can count on other people, on our friends."
"I don't want to count on anyone but you and myself," whispered Kenji desperately.
Kaoru's face dimmed. "That is not the true meaning of strength."
Astonished, Kenji stared down at her, his grief momentarily forgotten.
"I wish I could teach you that, my son." A tear crept down Kaoru's pallid cheek, glistening in the firelight. "I wish your father had been able to teach you. But Sanosuke and Yahiko are there, Megumi-san, Tsubame-chan, Aoshi-san, Misao-chan. They will help you now, if you heed them. Will you do this for me, Kenji-kun?"
Kenji bowed his head, not wanting her to see the stubborn rebellion in his eyes, and mutely nodded.
"My angry son. Mata, gomen nasai." Kaoru's words were a tiny breath feebly stirring Kenji's hair. "But it will be all right. Shinta and I—we will watch over you until the ice melts at last from your heart."
Kenji said nothing, merely bowed over her, soaking her yukata with wordless tears. He felt Kaoru lightly touch his shoulder.
"It will be all right, Kenji-kun. You will be strong."
And then her touch was light no longer, but a chill, heavy, lifeless pressure against his skin.
Kenji cried until no more tears came, and then he cried without them.
Aoshi and Misao soon went back inside, for the first snowfall of the year was drifting down from the starless sky—small flakes blooming silver-white in the darkness, falling gently, like sakura petals in the fullest blaze of spring.
~ tsuzuku ~
A/N. Here's to the bumper crop of zits I'm sure to wake up with tomorrow, because I'm writing fanfic instead of my killer history paper... plus I have an exam tomorrow that I haven't read one bit for... @.@
I have my own share of apologies to give out: I spent the last three hours writing this, and I've been so eager to send this off (and stop it hanging over my head, so that maybe I can finally concentrate on schoolwork) that I haven't really refined it yet, the way I obsessive-compulsively usually do. I hope this isn't OOC / too clichéd / too gushy (okay scratch that, I do tend to gush rather badly [hangs head in shame]).
Therefore, any and all suggestions for improvement will be gratefully accepted and implemented where applicable. (I'll mark the summary "revised" in that case.) ^.^
Arigatou gozaimasu for the reviews! eriesalia, sorry, there wasn't much of Misao's perspective on S/M ne? I kind of dodged out of yet another major dialogue scene at that point. Ultimately, it was Megumi who made up her own mind, and Sano himself who kind of helped her. And incidentally, I really planned from the beginning to have just Kenji-chan there at the crucial moment. redbandana, supernaturalove, I'm so happy you're liking this fic! ^.^ kakashi-fan, sorry, not very much A/M in this one ne? The chapter was already kind of heavy as it was, that I thought. g3ozLizh: yay Kare-Kano! ^.^ yep, the last few eps threw me for a loop too. @.@ mysti-chan, Aislinn6, sanoko, MiraiGurl, and so on (gomen ne! My memory's terrible bad!). Hearts for eyes to you all!
This is, clearly, almost done. Maybe three more chapters. ^.^ And, I hope, less angst... less heavy, heavy angst... though as I'm not too good at comedy I tend to stick to that instead.
Trivial note: I thought of making "Aoshi-jisan" just like "Misao-basan", but somehow while it suits Misao to be "Aunt Misao," "Uncle Aoshi" just gives me the shivers. And from Kenji, too. @.@
