AN: I screwed up. I forgot to give credit where credit is due. Were it not for the encouragement and honest feedback of Thunk, this fic would probably be sitting in limbo. She gives the best feedback and criticism of anybody I know. I owe her big kudos for all the help she's given me and I should have thanked her in the very first chapter, but... uh... I forgot.

Sorry, Thunk.

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

awkwardness
.:chapter two:.

'Why her?'

As the late afternoon shadows grew and the first hint of evening began to descent around him, Enishi found himself watching the sunset and wondering if he had made a mistake allowing her to have free reign of the house. If she were confined to her room he doubted she would have caught his attention quite so much. He found himself watching her as she went through her day more often than was necessary and he originally blamed the reason for it on her uniqueness, but now he was starting to wonder.

Her daily routine was unremarkable. She would wake up; do a series of exercises before practicing her kata strikes (usually with a broom) for at least an hour. She would then bathe, dress and prepare breakfast for two. She would bring him his share of the meal and attempt to converse with him. He would either send her away with a few terse words or he would ignore her completely. In either case, she would leave to either wander the property or walk the beach. When lunchtime came, she would prepare another meal for two (and again attempt to converse with him), then she would wander once more or sit outside to watch the ocean until dinner...

In the hours when Kamiya had nothing to do, worry consumed her. It was seeing that worry, that bone-deep concern for Battousai, that really aggravated him. Enishi could understand it if her anguish was for the boy, Yahiko, or some other associate of hers — but Battousai? He regularly cut the night with screams at the height of his career as an assassin. He didn't deserve her distress, and certainly not her tears. Enishi was certain that if she truly understood how cruel Battousai was to allow innocence such as hers into his sphere of influence she would reconsider her attachment to him. Enishi wanted to tell her, show her, just for the joy of watching her devotion for that blood-stained murderer crumble to dust.

But he couldn't, and that nagged at his thoughts the most. That, and her strange immunity to him and persistent kindness. He imagined that Battousai must have told her some romanticized lie, some offensive half-truth about why Tomoe was dead. That she had died protecting him because she loved him, or some such nonsense.

The simple truth was that Battousai still lived because he killed her. Had Battousai been assassinated, as planned, Tomoe would still be alive. A lot of people would still be alive. Had Tomoe's lived, Enishi never would have gone to Shanghai. He never would have dedicated himself to Jinchuu. He would have grown up honorable and become a samurai, just like his father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him. Instead, Enishi spent his childhood drinking sewage and learning how to kill while Battousai was free wander the countryside. He eventually found Kamiya, who gave him shelter and kindness. He stayed, living comfortably and happily, with her.

He didn't deserve that happiness. Battousai didn't deserve a single moment of peace. And yet she'd given it to him. Why?

Enishi could explain her behavior toward him easily enough — she had something to gain by being nice to her kidnapper. But what did she have to gain by showing kindness to Battousai? Was there something more to the two of them than his spies had told him? Or was Kamiya simply that strange? Nothing she did felt insincere. And it wasn't as though she went out of her way to be particularly nice to him. She didn't grovel or promise favors or offer herself to him — she was polite, considerate and thoughtful. She never raged at him or looked upon him with hate or fear... she simply brought him meals (as bad as they were sometimes) and tried to engage him in conversation.

It was quite a new thing to be regarded by someone who knew exactly who and what you were without some measure of dread. From her, he detected none. That alone was enough to cause him to wonder about her, but it was the way her behavior would occasionally mirror his sister that left him utterly disarmed. In the moments when she felt she was truly alone, she would sit and stare out at nothing with a lovelorn cloud of melancholy surrounding her. It never lasted very long, but the one and only time that Enishi had witnessed her in such a state left him flooded with memories of Tomoe.

It was in that moment where the two women seemed to blur together in his mind. Their grief was near identical and difficult for him to watch. Enishi had witnessed it in Kamiya shortly after breakfast the day before. He watched her quietly from afar as she stood on the balcony and watched the tide come in. For several minutes, she simply stared at the horizon, a brooding look consuming her features. Then her expression changed. The transformation was so quick and complete that Enishi thought he was reliving a childhood memory. The way her shoulders sagged, her eyes dulled, her chin dipped down as her body seemed to shrink...

Suddenly he felt 10-years-old again. Seeing the Kamiya girl wearing the same expression that so often clouded nee-san's face was painful to look at. Stomach tied into knots, Enishi couldn't force himself to look away and he wanted to. He wanted to turn his back to her and leave her to her misery, but he couldn't. He felt condemned to watch her and experience that sliver of despair with her.

The moment seemed to drag out for an eternity only to be shattered when a bird, a seagull, lighted on the balcony and caught the girl's eye. That one small distraction pulled her from her sorrow and brought Enishi his release. Suddenly, he could breathe again.

He was supposed to hate her. Or, at least be indifferent to her. Instead he found himself wondering about her when he should be focusing on other things. His natural inclination for unwanted distractions was to rid himself of them or break them until they were no longer interesting. He knew he could not kill her and to break Kamiya would mean to undermine her devotion to Battousai. But he couldn't. Not before he witnessed her misery that reminded him so much of Tomoe and certainly not after.

He just... couldn't.

'Besides,' he told himself, 'she'd know soon enough.' When Battousai finally arrived, she would learn the truth then. He just needed to be patient.

But... he was beginning to wonder if his reluctance to break her devotion was the reason why the memory of his sister still did not smile for him. It seemed unlikely. Tomoe wouldn't care about Kamiya, nor would she harbor any ill will for the girl — yet his sister still did not smile. He couldn't understand it. His Jinchuu was working exactly as he wanted. Battousai was experiencing the same psychological and emotional hell that Enishi had to endure as a child. He was paying for hurting them both. It was supposed to be a beautiful thing... so why wasn't Tomoe smiling?

Frustrated, Enishi removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was doing the right thing. This was his purpose. This was the one thing that kept him going, that kept him living. If something wasn't right, if something wasn't being done the way it should he was confident that Tomoe would lead him in the direction he was supposed to go.

Where was her smile?

"Enishi?"

He blinked and immediately straightened his shoulders to regard the girl. The corner of Kamiya's lip quirked upward as her cheeks colored. It was clear that she sensed she had interrupted him at a bad time. "I... I made you something to eat."

He made no reply. Instead he quietly studied her in silence.

"I can leave it in the kitchen... if you want," she offered. The weight of his stare gave her voice a slightly nervous quality, but she did not look away from him.

"No," Enishi said, finally, his tone unusually polite. "I'll take it now, thank you."

Kamiya hesitated for a moment, her mind tripping over his words of gratitude as she tried to hide her surprise. Her cheeks flushing even brighter, she stepped forward and placed the tray on the table. Moments later, she was still lingering by his side. Chewing on her bottom lip, she eyed him warily, a question heavy on her tongue.

Enishi sensed what she wanted to ask before she spoke. Her body seemed to vibrate with unease as she tried to work up the courage to find her voice. He mentally smirked as he watched her out of the corners of his eyes.

"You can go," he suggested. "I don't need you to watch me eat."

She clenched her jaw, ignoring him. "How much longer?"

He swallowed a mouthful of food. The vegetables were undercooked, but the rice was perfect. For once, nothing was burned. The meal wasn't bad, not that he would ever tell her that. "Soon," he said.

She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. Taking a moment to collect herself, she drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled before opening her eyes to peer at him. "Please, Enishi," she said, voice soft. "Just tell me."

He was tempted then, more than at any other time, to ask her why she cared — why waste her concern for someone so undeserving as Battousai. He knew what her answer would most likely be and it would anger him. Instead he told her, "When Jinchuu is complete. You should know that by now."

She took a half step forward, toward him, and implored him with her eyes. "When will that be? How long are you going to keep me here?"

He didn't answer her. Instead he allowed the silence to stretch out, growing uncomfortable and thick with each passing second. He could see that she was trying to best to fight back against her fear for Battousai.

Nervously licking her lips, she asked, "He should be here by now... shouldn't he? D- did something—"

"Is tonight's dinner going to taste as bad as lunch?" Enishi voiced the question with as much boredom coloring his tone as possible. He knew the barb and his feigned indifference would likely be enough to distract her from her attempt to glean information from him. At least for now. As the first hint of anger began to break through her worry, he knew his strategy had worked.

Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she scowled at him. "For your sake, I hope so."

The corner of his lip quirked upward when she abruptly turned away. As much as her anger tended to amuse him, he knew she'd go right back to being plagued with worry over a man who deserved it the least. And then she would be back, again, asking questions and stirring up memories best left alone.

She was halfway to the door when the sound of Enishi's voice caused her to pause. "He's not dead. At least not yet," he said. Kamiya turned toward him, cheeks still glowing from anger and eyes watery. "Jinchuu has only one conclusion."

"It's not enough that you torture him, you have to kill him as well?" she asked.

"That is Jinchuu."

She flinched, just barely, but said nothing more. Swallowing hard, she slowly turned back toward the door.

"It won't be long now."

• • •

He blinked his eyes open for only a few seconds and immediately regretted it. His body immediately recoiled from sunlight streaming into the room, flooding everything with brightness. As wakefulness came, so did the pain. Muscles he didn't even know he had felt bruised and torn. His ribs ached, his joints throbbed, his skin itched and stung. There wasn't much of him that didn't hurt.

Eyes closed once more, Yahiko found himself wishing for the bliss of unconsciousness again. He wouldn't be aware of the aches within his body if he was asleep. However, unconsciousness could bring its own form of pain. Dreams haunted him. At least with wakefulness he could control his thoughts. Or at least make the attempt. The less he thought about Kenshin, the better.

'He can rot there for all I care,' his mind whispered bitterly. 'It's up to me now.'

Images of his fight with Hyougo came to his mind unbidden. Defeat tasted bitter in his mouth and he grimaced. If Saitou hadn't stepped in at the last minute, Yahiko was certain he would be dead now.

'Who am I kidding? Without Kenshin and Sano's help, Kaoru is as good as dead.'

Frustrated tears stung his eyes. If he couldn't even beat one of Enishi's damn lackeys, how could he possibly hope to save Kaoru? She was still alive! Enishi still had her and if they could find him, they would find her as well.

With that thought, frustrated rage began to build up within him. He couldn't understand why Kenshin didn't want to go after Enishi. Not just for revenge, but for justice. How could he just sit in that stinking dump and do nothing? It made no sense to Yahiko. A man like Kenshi, who claimed to want to help the weak, should be the first in line to want to go after a criminal like Enishi. He made everyone believe that he had killed her! In Kenshin's mind, Enishi should be a murderer.

The person that Yahiko once believed Kenshin to be felt like a lie. There was bitter disappointment, but more than that, he felt completely betrayed. His mother was dead, his adoptive older sister was being held hostage and the man whom Yahiko once regarded as a hero and wanted to emulate was now wasting away in a dump.

A few tears leaked out of his eyes and rolled down the side of his face as he clenched his jaw and tried to reign in his emotions. He breathed slowly through his nose as he tried to relax. Getting worked up about Kenshin was making his whole body clench and it was painful. As the seconds dragged by, Yahiko realized that the attempt to calm his mind and heart was futile.

'If Kaoru really does die because of Kenshin's bullshit, I will never forgive him.'

As the pledge crystallized in his mind he felt the certainty of it give him a vague sense of calm. Just as his muscles began to relax, he heard someone enter the room. Their movements were quiet, but determined, as they moved toward his bed. Eyes still closed, Yahiko gave no indication of his conscious state as he listened.

A rustling of fabric, the gentle groan of a chair being moved beside his bed, and then silence. Curiosity began to part closed eyelids when an ice-cold cloth was suddenly placed over his eyes. A jolt moved through his body from the sensation and he quickly snatched the offending material in one hand. A startled feminine 'eep!' sounded beside him from his abrupt movements.

"I'm sorry, Yahiko-kun!" she whispered, blushing furiously, "I- I thought you were still sleeping."

Tired brown eyes squinted at the girl sitting beside him. "Tsubame?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"M-megumi-san said a cold compress might keep your eyes from swelling shut," she smiled shyly. "I... I just wanted to help. I'm sorry I woke you."

Yahiko sighed and leaned back onto his pillow. "You didn't. I was already awake."

"You were?" she asked.

"Hn."

"You... you should cover your eyes then," she said quietly. "They already look pretty swollen."

"Why bother?" he asked. "So what if they swell shut."

She hesitated, "But... you won't be able to see..."

"I don't care," came the stubborn reply.

"Yahiko-kun, don't you-"

The boy snorted abruptly.

"Sano's off doing God-knows-what and Kenshin is practically dead," Yahiko spat, the quality of his voice caustic. His ire caused Tsubame to flinch but he paid her no mind. "I got beat up by some damn grunt and that bastard Saitou had to 'save' me... who gives a shit if my eyes swell shut?"

"B-but..."

"It's okay for Kenshin to sit on his ass and rot. Well, I'm going to lay here and swell!"

"...they're planning to go after Kaoru-san..."

Yahiko's eyes shot open to regard the timid girl beside him. "What!?" he demanded.

"I- I heard Saitou-san and Aoshi-san talking about it," she said. "I thought... I mean, I- I guessed that you would be going, too."

"They're going after Kaoru? Are you sure?"

Tsubame opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, the intensity of Yahiko's expression taking her voice from her.

"Tsubame!"

She gave a jerky nod and whispered a faint, "Y-yes."

"When?"

"I don't know."

Suddenly Yahiko was struggling with his bed covers, forcing himself to rise.

"Wait!" Tsubame said. "You can't! You're still hurt. Megumi said-"

"I don't have time for that now," he said as he stood, a shutter of pain moving through his frame and he groaned.

Determination glowing in his eyes, Yahiko slowly made his way toward the door. He would be damned if he missed this chance to save Kaoru and make Enishi pay. He'd go even if he had to go in a hospital bed. As he forced himself to take one painful step after another he suddenly felt Tsubame carefully wrap her arm around him as she offered to support his weight. He glowered at her and was about to tell her that he didn't need help, he was fine, but his pride dissolved when he saw the concern on her face. She was genuinely worried about him. Without a word he accepted her kindness and leaned into her for support. Together, they made their way out of the room.