Disclaimer: I bought the rights to Rurouni Kenshin just last week! Did I mention that I have some really nice beach-front property in Florida for sale? Very inexpensive!

Catharsis

albatross
.:chapter one:.

The memory of Tomoe wouldn't come to him anymore. Only bloodied glimpses of her last moments of life filled his mind. Her beauty before death eluded his thoughts. Try as he might, he could not see her. The more he tried to remember her face, her voice, her scent... the more iniquity choked his very soul.

So consumed with condemnation, his body had grown numb to everything around him. No longer was he aware of the old man sitting beside him. Nor could he smell the scent of white plums as it wafted in the breeze.

Angry shouts contrasted against gentle weeping, but such sounds fell on deaf ears. Dull, violet eyes stared at nothing as a frightened girl stood before him. He didn't see the quiver of her hands. Nor was he aware of the expression of shock as she looked upon his pathetic form. Even when she stood before him, her voice strained from fear and desperation, he could only think of his sins, his failures and feel the growing void within.

'If my death will bring you peace, I will gladly give it to you, Tomoe...'

• • •

"Please, Kenshin-san!" The girl begged, tears rolling down her cheeks as her fingers clenched at the front of her kimono. "Please help Yahiko-kun!"

If the samurai heard her, he gave no indication. His eyes remained fixed and unfocused. Tsubame bit her lip and felt the residents of Rakuninmura press around her, their angry shouts at her intrusion setting her nerves on fire. Time was short. Heart pounding hard in her chest, Tsubame gathered her courage.

"Th-that giant was coming," she said, willing her voice to steady and failing miserably. "He… he was coming to k-kill you. B-but Yahiko-kun," Tsubame glanced at the angry faces around her and whispered, "He can't fight him alone."

He didn't move, didn't flinch. Save for the slow movement of his chest as he breathed it seemed as though Kenshin was nothing more than a statue.

Swallowing hard, Tsubame reached out to the samurai. Perhaps if she touched him, nudged him just a little, it would bring him back to reality. Her fingers grazed the crown of his head, then she placed her entire palm against his scalp. "Get up, Kenshin," she pleaded, her fingers unconsciously curling into his hair. "You have to save Yahiko-kun."

Old, calloused fingers gripped her hand in a gentle embrace and she flinched from the sudden contact.

"It's no use, child," the elderly man sitting next to Kenshin said in an exhausted voice. "I'm so sorry."

She blinked at the man and said, "But he... Yahiko-"

Eyes full of compassion, he tenderly squeezed her hand. "My child," he said, voice painfully kind. "This man is consumed with the past. As long as he continues to live in the past, he will never leave Rakuninmura. I'm sorry."

"But people need him!" she blurted out, pulling her fingers from his grip. The boldness of her words and rudeness of her actions was surprising even to herself.

The old man considered her for a moment, and then sighed, "His body is here, but his mind is not. There is nothing more you can do."

The sliver of control that held Tsubame together trembled under a renewed onslaught of fear. Yahiko wouldn't last much longer against Kujiranami. For all she knew he could already be dead. Pushing back against her fear, she willed herself to be calm. "N-no," she whispered. "He wouldn't... he's never let us down before."

The old man offered her a sympathetic look as he carefully pushed himself up. "Kuma," he said, catching the eye of a man standing only a few feet from Tsubame. "Could you please escort this young lady out for me?"

With a nod of acknowledgment, Kuma moved forward and placed his hand Tsubame's shoulder. His touch was gentle, but she still shivered from the contact. His fingers squeezed, then pulled, and a strained cry escaped her lips. Miserable, she submitted to Kuma's unspoken command to turn away from the samurai in mourning without a word. She followed him in a daze, her mind a whirl of confusion and worry. Through the chaos and fear, one thought roared to the forefront of her mind. 'Yahiko will die if Kenshin doesn't help him. I have to tell him about Kaoru!'

Pulling away from Kuma, she ran back to her last best hope. "Kenshin-san!" she said, her voice taking on a shrill quality. "You must get up! You must get up right now! Please!"

Panic threatened to overwhelm her when she felt Kuma tug her arm impatiently. She knew she wasn't supposed to tell him about Kaoru, but she didn't know what else to do. Surely if he knew, he would come to his senses. He would get up. He would save Yahiko.

"You have to get up, Kenshin-san," she rushed out as she resisted Kuma's attempt to pull her away. "You have to get up because Kaoru-san needs you, too! We all need you!"

The samurai remained still. His eyes as lifeless and unresponsive as that of a toy doll.

"Kaoru isn't dead! She's alive, Kenshin-san!"

Nothing. No reaction.

'No..!'

So certain was she that the good news about Kaoru would snap him out of his stupor that his lack of reaction felt like a physical blow to her midsection. She lost her footing and collapsed to the ground, one hand clutching at her chest as the other shakily supported her weight. She was barely aware of the arm that wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug. It was the old man, she knew it instinctively, but the offer of comfort did nothing to stop the tears.

Who would save Yahiko now?

• • •

It still hurt to swallow. She didn't have to see the bruises to know they were there, but the place where his thumb had been hurt the most. A deceptively delicate hand snaked up to rub the sore places tenderly as she stirred the misoshiru. Kaoru guessed that her throat would probably hurt for at least a day, maybe two, but she was hopeful that some hot tea and soup would soothe the pain. That usually worked whenever she had a sore throat from illness. Kenshin made her tea and shirumono the last time she was sick and that seemed to work wonders. She longed for that simple comfort now.

'Oh, Kenshin...'

At the thought of the rurouni her lips trembled downward for a split second before stubbornness straightened them out again. She had to be strong. She could cry later, privatively, but not now. She had to stay positive and keep her mind clear of distraction. Kenshin would come for her and worrying wouldn't help her situation.

Lifting the wooden spoon to her lips, she took a taste test. It wasn't bad. It wasn't great or anything - but it wasn't bad at all. Yahiko would probably find fault with it, but Kenshin wouldn't complain about it. He always ate her food.

Kaoru sighed at the direction of her thoughts. Everything always came back to him. What was the point in resisting the inevitable? Worrying about Kenshin was what she did. No matter how she tried to distract herself, thoughts of him still came.

He would come for her, of that she was certain. Even if he thought she might be dead, he would still come. Kaoru had faith in him. She had faith in the kind of man that he was. He had never let her down when she needed him most. The fact that he hadn't only fueled her fears that something terrible was wrong. He could be hurt or sick... or perhaps something happened to his ship as he sailed to the island. The longer it took for him to arrive, the more certain she was that something was wrong.

Kaoru watched the misoshiru swirl as she stirred. Surely if Kenshin was dead, Enishi would be gloating about it. He wasn't. In fact, Enishi hadn't said anything at all about his precious Jinchuu in days. Kaoru didn't know if she should feel comforted by that or not. All she knew was that the need to go to Kenshin was a tangible ache that nagged at her incessantly. Her failed attempt to escape the island the day before was an extension of that ache. If she had been thinking more clearly, perhaps she would have tried another way. Confronting Enishi with the intent to take him hostage armed only with a broken broom handle was foolish, if not suicidal.

She shivered, remembering the wild look in Enishi's eyes when he turned on her. He moved so fast that she barely registered what was happening until she felt his hand wrapped around her throat as he tried to strangle her. He'd been so determined, so focused in that moment she was certain this was it. She would die.

And then he blinked... and his eyes had changed...

Right at the brink of her passing out from lack of air, Enishi stopped. His hand went slack around her neck and she struggled to remain standing as she gulped in air, but he just remained frighteningly still. His whole body went rigid as his eyes grew impossibly wide. His face pale, his hand dropped away from her completely and he stumbled away from her.

She knew at once, in that one moment, he had been afraid, horrified, at himself and what he nearly did to her.

Was she lucky to be alive? Was Enishi capable of killing her?

'No.'

Kaoru's brows knitted together at the certainty in her heart.

No, he would not... could not harm her. Of that, Kaoru was absolutely certain. His memory of Tomoe was protecting her. For that reason, she wasn't afraid of him. At least not when it came to her personal safety. Even after his attempt to strangle her, she felt no fear. Nervousness. Unease. But not fear. Not the fear she felt toward him the night he fought Kenshin.

'Because of Tomoe,' she told herself. 'He can't hurt me because of his love for his sister. His soul is too deeply scarred...'

That was why she was cooking for them both. It was her way of extending a hand of friendship and compassion. If she could find some way to soften that part of him, perhaps she could escape. It sounded preposterous. Especially in light of the kind of person that Enishi was, but what else could she do? Enishi was the essence of vengeance and pity. Within all that rage existed an open wound of pure hurt. Against someone like Kenshin, the rage was a shield. Against her, the rage was merely a scab.

If Enishi was truly a monster, she would be dead. The fact that she still lived was testimony to the shred of humanity that still survived inside of him. And if Enishi felt love so deeply that he was still hurting after so long, he wasn't beyond help. After all, Jinchuu was, by its very nature, an attempt to heal the wounds of the past. If Kaoru could remind Enishi of his humanity and get him to think of her as a person and not a means to an end, then perhaps the desperate need for Jinchuu would begin to lessen. Perhaps he would let her go.

'But without Tomoe's diary, I have no way to get past his defenses... I can't do much more than be nice to him. I hope that's enough...'

Sighing, Kaoru forced her attention back to the meal she was preparing. It should be done. Lifting the spoon to her lips, she took another taste test and winced. She overcooked it.

'Maybe I can fix it...'

With that thought in mind, she quickly busied herself selecting herbs and vegetables she hoped would mask the taste.

• • •

Jaw clenched, Enishi said nothing when he heard her step out onto the balcony. He didn't look at her, his eyes stubbornly focused on the horizon as he pointedly ignored her. He didn't want to see her and had expected her to avoid him after their confrontation. It bothered him to have her near. Almost to the point of annoyance. The fact that she had sought him out was an oddity, but not so much so that he felt the need to acknowledge her.

His posture remained guardedly relaxed as she approached him. Her movements paused and he expected her to speak. She didn't. Instead, he heard her place something on a table behind him before turning to leave. His curiosity piqued, he glanced over his shoulder to see what she had done and was caught off-guard by what he saw.

'Dinner?'

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice curt.

"Nothing," she said, pausing in her steps. "Only if you're cooking for one, you might as well cook for two."

He didn't reply.

"You've barely eaten anything since you've been here," Kamiya explained with a half shrug. "I know I'm the only one who uses the kitchen, so... eat up." She pointed at the meal for emphasis before turning away.

He didn't react. His suspicious nature wouldn't let him. She moved toward the door again with the intent to leave. Resting her hand on the door knob, she said, "And you can do your own dishes."

With that, she was gone.

Enishi frowned. This was totally unexpected. What would possess her to even bother cooking for him? No one had ever voluntarily cooked for him since he was a child. Curious, he eyed the neatly presented meal patiently waiting for his consumption. The facade of indifference did not waiver as he inhaled the warm smell of the soup. Memories of Tomoe filled his mind, reminding him of bittersweet days. 'You must be hungry,' his sister said to him, 'Wait a minute, I was just making dinner...' Softness warmed Enishi's heart as he remembered her words. Fondness always swelled within him when she cooked for him. It made him feel loved. Special.

After Akira's death, she stopped cooking. Everything stopped. Nee-san would sit and stare at nothing for hours... and the look on her face... the sadness... No matter what he said or how he tried, her features never lifted. He was powerless to help her and that hurt. Almost more than he could bear.

And then one morning, she was gone. The note she left behind explained her actions easily, but Enishi couldn't do as she asked and stay behind. Not when she was going to do something so dangerous. He couldn't risk losing her. She was everything to him. He needed her. Enishi only saw her once more after she left the family. She had cooked for him that day, too, but by then, she was calling herself Tomoe Himura.

Eying the bowl of soup in his hand, Enishi did his best to ignore the way the warmth seeping into his flesh felt like home. He didn't expect Kamiya to be so disconcerting. She was nothing like he expected. Even after he tried to kill her - wanted to kill her - she wasn't afraid of him. And now she was cooking for him. Was she trying to win his favor?

Enishi smirked. Yes. That had to be it. She was trying to kill him with kindness. Goad his guilt.

Well, her actions didn't matter. She was the fulcrum of his Jinchuu. That was her only purpose. Kindness, grief, anger... none of those sentiments would change anything. If she truly understood what Battousai was, her heart would break.

Regardless what she did to try to win his favor she would stay with him until Battousai was dead. Jinchuu demanded nothing less.