Yoake Mae no Yami ni

by Mirune Keishiko

Thirteen:  Moonset

"...Okashii."

"Eh?  Why do you say that?"

A pale, peaceful face, almost but not quite smiling.  Hair spilling freely across a white pillow.

"...Everything looked just like it was..."

Yahiko's shuttered eyes, the tight line of his mouth, the gravity and grace that brought the solemn nobility of an ancient, honored line into a new era.

Tae serving tea and refreshments with a shadow of her customary cheer that was all the sadder to see;  Tsubame quietly taking over when the older woman fled to the kitchen to muffle her sobs.

"...for Ken-san."

Kiriko, a gracious, soft-spoken receptionist, her musical voice a pleasant prelude to the hushed whispers and low tones in the main room.  The light in her deep blue eyes dim with pain as she watched Kenji from a distance, clearly longing to be at his side to offer comfort, yet faithful to a duty that could not be neglected.

"...Sou ka?"

"Like I said... it's strange."

Myoujin Shin-ya kneeling beside his father and mother, round black head bowed over chubby clasped hands, small face unusually serious; his precise moments belying his breeding and his blood as he offered his own tiny pinch of incense.

Misao and Aoshi walking side by side in the procession, their black kimonos seeming to merge into one whole piece.  Takako bearing her brother in her arms and watching everything in wide-eyed silence.  Misao weeping quietly, Aoshi's strong arms embracing her, supporting her.  His devotion and sorrow naked in his eyes as she had unwittingly taught him to dare to show them; her grief welling from greater depths in the richness of the silence she had learned from him.

And trailing patiently for a good distance behind them—more mourners, a river of black clothes and somber faces growing steadily as the procession wound through the suburbs to the cemetery.  Rich and poor, young and old, in groups of friends and family—all gathering to mark the passage of a short life that had touched so many others with its unrelenting cheer and unstinting generosity.

"Still... that was spring.  And it's winter now."

The plain, simple altar once covered in sakura blossoms, now blooming with pale green vines, blue and yellow autumn flowers from Yutarou's hothouse; and whenever these seemed to be wilting already with the early winter chill, they were speedily replaced with a new batch, although Yutarou himself never left the dojo grounds.

"And I missed the one before."

A great sorrow rarely spoken of, loss cutting so deeply even he of the naked heart conceded its hurt only to the very few.

A frozen moment of hesitation, then Megumi reached up and touched his cheek.  Wide brown eyes snapped open as if startled at the contact she had initiated.

"Sou ka na."  She smiled.  "That was one other difference," she whispered.

Sutras ringing out sonorously.  Her vision of the casket before her blurred by a veil of tears.  The determination not to fall the only thing keeping her upright, when she felt so tired she wanted to simply lie down and give in at last to her emotions.

It had all been terribly familiar.

But then, unlike before, there had been a light touch on her sleeve; and as the tears had streamed at last down her cheeks, his shadowed gaze came into focus as he silently offered her his arm.  Her grief  had been tempered by a joy surging mutely through her as she leaned on someone else's strength for a change, without shame, without despair, but only gratitude, trust, contentment.

Megumi shut her hot, weary eyes and nestled closer to him, drawing the blanket snugly around the two of them.  Outside, it was snowing again.

"I looked for you, you know.  When I heard that Ken-san had returned, I never told anyone, but I hoped...  But you never came."  And she rested her head on his shoulder, as if to reassure herself that he was really with her at last.

"Aa."  Long, roughened fingers played with the shining strands of her hair, spreading it across his chest.  "Gomen ne."

She shook her head.  "It's all right now," she whispered, almost shyly, after a moment's pause.

Gently stroking the top of her head, Sano smiled to himself.  Now when had the kitsune-onna last been shy?

She lay still and silent for so long that he wondered if she had finally fallen asleep.  Peering through her long bangs, he found that her eyes were indeed closed.

But they opened again quickly, as if aware of his scrutiny.  For a moment their gazes met and held—searching, knowing, ultimately satisfied.  Megumi's mouth curved with a hint of a smile.

Then he gently kissed her, a melding of lips to soft lips that was not so much a passionate encounter as almost an afterthought, an inevitability.  Sweet, lightly lingering, the kiss lent strength, bespoke trust, promised constancy.

She soon fell asleep at last, warm in his embrace, her tearstained face hidden in his shirt.  And though Sanosuke stoically rejected slumber for a good half hour more, determined to stay awake through the night to try to convince himself that all of it was really happening, he too succumbed to sleep, cheek nestled in the fragrance of her hair, arms never slipping from their embrace even in the deepest slumber.

~ tsuzuku ~

A/N.  Yokatta!  Almost do~one! ^.^  Sorry for the long update...  After managing to hurdle those particularly challenging (for me, anyway) last couple of chapters, I felt I could relax and stop worrying whether my story would run away from me if I took my eyes off it for two seconds. ^.^

Credits!  Wai!  Linay, sanoko, PraiseDivineMercy, g3ozLizh, Lychee2, Jade Star, redbandana, Aislinn6, eriesalia:  Sigh… This unworthy one thanks you for your kind appreciation!  I'm sorry to pour on the drama there… but well, I like tragedy myself so… ^.^  I don't know how I did on the test, by the way, but I don't think I'm in real danger of flunking that particular subject just yet. (Fingers crossed!)  I'm always happy when I manage to bring out sincere feelings in other people.  Sometimes it's just so helpful and satisfying to have a good cry, even if it is "only a story," as long as we know there's someone there crying with us, ne?  Tears keep us human.

But also laughter, and love… So let's hope there's plenty of that to go around in the next chapters! ^.^

Now for some fussy admin-type stuff:  Just some points I'd like to clear up.

1)  I've referred to Tae as still a Sekihara even though she's married with three kids already.  I can't imagine her an old maid, nor as much older than twenty-five or so in the manga/anime.  So let's frolic with canon a bit and pretend she's already married, though without kiddies, in the series, alright?  ^.^

2)  On the "iron lung" allusion in Chapter 12:  Gomen nasai!  ^.^;  yes, I'm afraid I scrimped on the research on that point.  The idea basically just popped into my head as I was typing and I didn't want to interrupt my "flow" with data checks, so...  I kinda sacrificed historical accuracy for drama.  Bad ffic-writer! @.@  But hey, by that time I think they'd already invented an air-pump for undersea divers... so maybe they already had a really primitive artificial lung-type device.... ne?  ne?? ^.^

3)  On using Japanese terms/dialogue:  It's a habit I picked up over the years while reading fanfic. Personally, I find it sometimes strange when a writer translates "too much," especially when English translations of uniquely Japanese things are either concise but vague, or precise but long and wordy.  And I do enjoy improving my Nippongo even in the smallest ways by picking up new words from fanfic.  However, of course not everyone enjoys it when their reading is interrupted by an unfamiliar word, and they have to flip back to the glossary just to continue reading.  It also runs the risk of coming off as pretentious ("oooh! see how many Japanese words I know!").  Why use "Kikoeru ka?" when you mean "Can you hear me?", right?

I guess this will just be one of those things that ff writers will endlessly debate on.  To explain (if not justify) myself, I slip in Japanese terms (1) because I think most anime lovers (incl myself) have a thing for Japanese culture anyhow, and would therefore enjoy learning more of these snippets of their daily life; and (2) because I'm also trying to put a more "Japanese" feel into my stories, not just because they're based on anime but also because RK, in particular, is quite specifically set in a uniquely Japanese time and place.  For RK, I really can't imagine an "Aunt Misao" and "Sir/Teacher Yahiko"--somehow it conjures up funny, hopelessly Western storybook images of checkered gingham dresses and pomaded, neatly parted hair.

You could say I'm imagining my fics as anime episodes with Japanese dialogue and English subtitles.  Hence the bits of Nippongo dialogue.

Apologies to those who find it cumbersome, awkward, confusing, or downright irritating!  It's really a personal thing of mine, gomen.  I hope we will be able to reach some sort of common ground on this matter.  I will, however, try to curb my frustrated-Japanese tongue.  Arigatou gozaimashita! ^.^