Note: Half an hour after stepping into Tuesday, I update at last! Here, Kenji at last decides to "get moving", but it´s not sure whether this should be necessarily a GOOD thing or not….( Trust me, all of you who are waiting for a Yahiko vs Kenji fight: there WILL be one in this story. Only not now.)
Thanks very much, to all my reviewers, and to Margit Ritzka for beta.
EclipseChapter Four: Kenji's Arrival
The boy cringed as he stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. There was a strange, ominous silence floating over the place, and this, he did not know exactly why, was giving him bad presentiments. He had arrived a few days late. Only a few days, and didn't his father always do that as well?
The sun had just set, and the horizon was bathed in a red light that heralded the darkness of the night. Kenji felt a cold breeze starting to get through his scarce garments and this convinced him at last to get moving. When he put a hand to the shoji, he discovered that it was already open.
"Mother…!" he called, stepping inside the dark. At first he got no answer, but when he repeated his cry his ears could register a weak voice answering him from her bedroom. Immediately, Kenji rushed there, and slid the shoji open.
"Mother, I'm Kenji!" he shouted. He was starting to feel a surge of panic rising inside him that gave wings to his actions, and that could do nothing but augment when he saw the spectacle that awaited him in the closed space of the chamber. Kaoru was there crumpled against her bed in front of a candle. Though she had evidently taken great efforts to wipe them out and make a pleasant face as soon as she had heard him come, Kenji's piercing eye was able to discover traces of tears on her cheeks. Maybe she had been even holding that kimono again, he thought in an explosion of bitterness, but she had been able to discard it before his arrival.
"Welcome home... Kenji." she spoke. There was an eerie and exasperating false smile upon her pale sad face.
"Where is he?" he demanded, forgetting about the answer to her greeting and, as a whole, about all forms of politeness. The bad presentiment he had had before was choking him now, robbing him of all his senses. "Where?"
Kaoru fixed her glance into his, then lowered it as if she was suddenly afraid that he would see the look in her eyes. A long silence followed, broken only by the accelerated and irregular beating of Kenji's heart.
"He's gone," she said at last. "He left yesterday."
The boy staggered, feeling as if his worst fears had been confirmed.
"Tell me, Mother," he said after a dark pause. His voice came out cool and composed, but under the sleeves of his kimono he was digging his fingernails into his bleeding palms. "If he doesn't care for seeing me or not… couldn't he at least take into account the trip I've had to make?"
"Your father loves you very much," Kaoru recited quickly, the same old, empty litany that only contributed to make her son madder. Love was a horrid thing, he could not help but think as he watched in the dim light of the candle the anguished features of the person who had to steep so low as to defend the man who was making her cry. Was this the strong and happy woman he had used to know?
It made him sick.
"Indeed he does," he answered, trying to avoid a surplus of sarcasm that would hurt her even more. He wasn't like him. "So what now? Do you want me to stay here with you until he returns?"
Kaoru gave a long sigh, and crawled aside so that he had enough space to sit down onto the bed and give her a kiss. She remained unresponsive, though, and for a moment Kenji was unable to guess what was hidden behind her glassy eyes.
"Kenji," she started at last. "He…won't return. In months, maybe in years."
"What?" The boy froze again. "He what?"
His mother's glance got lost in the distance, probably in the undetermined shadows that the candle created in the corner of the room.
"Your father…has left for China."
Kenji looked up, and made a desperate attempt to focus on the reality that surrounded him. The sun was shining outside, and there were drops of sweat on his forehead even as he sat in the cool shade of Hiko's cottage. Birds were singing in a screeching choir, and Yahiko and his Shishou were exchanging pleasantries about the former having broken the shoji of the house the first time he had been there, and also about a situation when he had been about to wet his hakama facing a giant, many years ago. Then, the conversation turned to the people in Tokyo, and Yahiko said that Tsubame was pregnant. Kenji hadn't known that. So she was with child at last…
"And what about my stupid student?" Hiko asked. His tone got a bit more serious now, as he served the tea and gave Yahiko a cup. "He has returned to Japan, you have said?"
Yahiko nodded gravely.
"Yes. He returned on a late ship, and now he's in Tokyo with Kaoru. He is… very ill."
"I see…"Hiko crossed his arms over his chest, and sighed. "And I'm sure he pushed himself over his limits again. Well, Kenji..." His dark eyes were suddenly set on the figure of his second stupid student, who could not help but feel his heart jump inside his chest. Until then, he had just been sitting there, forgotten in the conversation as the battle in his insides progressed. There had been time for the anger, then the worry, and now, finally, the new fear of a distant call that would be stronger than his own determinations. His mother hadn't been able to resist it …
He was stepping on the border of the precipice.
"It seems it's time to call a halt to your training," the old man continued. "They want you back."
Kenji stared back at him, then at Yahiko, who waited for him with an unreadable glance.
"Who wants me back?" he asked at last, failing to keep a neutral tone. So be it, a part of him thought as the rest was overcome with the dreadful unfairness of the whole situation. Better to be angry than to be…
…scared?
"Your father wants you back, Kenji," Yahiko said. "Since he arrived, he has been constantly asking for you."
"Really?" Too late. He can't redress his wrongs now. He can't… "And what does he want to tell me that he can't say by letter?" he asked, with a hint of anxiousness in his voice.
Yahiko shook his head.
"I don't know. He's the only one… who might know that. But he asked for you, lots of times."
"Oh, well" the young man snorted. "Then tell him that, at least according to my experience, people usually don't come as much as you ask for them!"
"Kenji!" The samurai sighed, barely able to contain his impatience. "Why can't you leave this childishness behind and reason like an adult?"
This was the last detonator that Kenji had needed to throw away all he was hiding. Seething in anger, he got up, and gave Yahiko a smouldering glance.
"So that's what you understand for "being an adult"? Returning to Tokyo without finishing my training just because my father, who has never been there for me, wants me to be there for him? Did he ever leave anything unfinished because of me? Then you're right… I'm not such a being! I don't care if he sends you or anyone else a thousand times. I couldn't care less!"
The words escaped his throat one by one, in an uncontrollable cascade he could not stop. He had never felt so horrible, so torn between his conflicting emotions. If his father had appeared on Hiko's mountain and said he had come all the way from their city just to attempt a reconciliation, if he had really asked for his forgiveness for the first time in his life, he knew perfectly that he would have relented in spite of his resolutions. But like this… no, like this never!
How could he have stood himself ever after, knowing he was nothing more than a fool who had built the illusion of being loved by a man who had not even been the one who…?
Still, and this was the irony of the situation, at the same time he was afraid Yahiko would leave, and felt helpless for not being able to stop the harsh words that kept coming to his mind. The words he feared the most… and that were now on his lips, imminently, like an inevitable closure.
"And, let me tell you one thing. I won't even have the most remote thought of returning to Tokyo until he comes here himself and asks for my forgiveness!"
Yahiko stood up too, and made a strong gesture that prevented him instinctively from turning away and leaving. From the look on his face, Kenji could see he was as angry now as he was himself. Hiko, meanwhile, stayed impassive on his place, watching the confrontation.
"You don't understand. You don't understand at all!" the young samurai shouted." He can't come here to ask you anything. What words can I use to make you grasp the whole situation? Kenji, your father is dying!"
The precipice wavered for an instant, then rose violently to meet the young man's eyes.
"And how are we going to return?" Kenji asked. The afternoon shades had begun to cool the hot morning atmosphere a bit, and both Yahiko and he were sitting at the door of the cottage to plan next day's trip. Hiko was busy painting vases at the other side of the house; since that morning, he had more or less let them be without saying a word.
"By ship," Yahiko answered. "That should leave us there in four days."
"I don't have any money," the younger man objected. "I really wasn't planning on… returning yet."
"I see," the samurai sighed. Though dust had already had plenty of hours to settle, there was still a thin uneasiness floating around since that morning's argument. "Don't worry for the money. I have enough for both of us."
"But…"
"I owe it to…"
"My mother. I know," Kenji grumbled. "But I'm not my mother."
"Well…" Yahiko allowed himself a brief smile for the first time since his arrival. "Pay me when you have money, then."
Kenji furrowed his brow.
"I was planning on finishing my training, and then… well, work, I suppose." he said. "Maybe set a dojo… though I've heard that this business is not very prosperous of late."
"It works fine for us and also for Yutaro," Yahiko answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "But what are you planning to teach? Hiten Mitsurugi?"
"That, definitely, is not an option," Kenji mused aloud, with some regret in his voice. Hiko had been right, he hadn't ever expected to get anything from that training except… well, something that had proved useless this very morning. Now, the pain was already turning into a dull ghost that slowed his every action, and held his limbs and his tongue whenever he wanted to do something or talk. He was unable to decide whether he wanted to continue fuming or to weep, and this was probably what had allowed him to keep what remained of his composure for so long.
"Yahiko-san… is he really so bad?" he asked at last, unable to keep his thoughts focused on any other issue anymore. "I heard that the disease usually lasted more years."
The young samurai's hand started to pluck weeds of grass distractedly.
"China and the war has been a devastating experience for him," he said. "Enough to… accelerate its effects."
These words had the virtue to rekindle a bit the irate flame of the morning. Kenji shifted in his sitting place uneasily, and shook his head with vehemence.
"But why did he have to go there? He didn't even dare to wait for me, and hear what I had to say about his mad idea! And… how could he do that to her?"
Yahiko opened his mouth at this, but then seemed to pause and think, and closed it again. How bad should things be, Kenji thought somewhat sourly, if even Yahiko did not know what to answer?
"I see," he said at last, simply, "that you haven't forgiven him yet."
"Of course not. Would you expect me to?" the younger man retorted. "I'm going because… because it can be my last opportunity to solve things at all. "His voice failed him at this point, but he forced himself to be strong and continue. "At least he's there to hear what I have to say, now."
The samurai smiled, and stretched an arm to pat his shoulder.
"That's a good attitude."
"But I won't be satisfied with a simple "Hello, I'm sorry", Yahiko-san. I have many motives not to be. He might be ill, but as long as he has ears to hear…"
Yahiko frowned, and threw him a warning look.
"You can't upset him, Kenji. He's very fragile…"
"Then, why did you come for me at all?" the young man exclaimed, trying at the same time to hide the terrible sensation he got whenever he heard anything about his father's terminal state. He was ill. Just ill. Nothing more. "Is to bring someone who has a grudge against him to his house the best way to care for his fragility?"
"He was desperate to see you. Asking for you all day. Maybe, who knows? he has had time to think about his problem with you over and over in China, and wants to come to a solution."
"Solution? We'll see to that!"
Kenji got up, in an agitated mood that did not pass wholly unnoticed to Yahiko. Leaving him at the place, he walked away, and his footsteps carried him almost involuntarily to the place where Hiko was immersed in his work. The old man was diligently dipping his brush in paint to draw colourful flowers on the vases he had made, with a tired air about his face that surprised his apprentice. When the boy reached his side he didn't even give him a nod of acknowledgement.
"Hiko-shishou…" he started, after standing at his side awkwardly for some five minutes. The man stopped for a second to dip his brush again, and gave a small grunt in response. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with Yahiko-san."
At this, Hiko semed to think at last that it was high time to pay him a bit of attention, and left the vase in its place with care. While he did so, he lifted his glance towards Kenji, and nodded.
"I know. And I will join you soon, after I have taken care of several things."
"What?" This took the young man completely by surprise. "You are going… to…?"
"To Tokyo, yes. It's seventeen years since I last left this place," Hiko continued. Kenji could spot something strange in his tone… was it regret? Sadness? "But I have things to do first."
"Well… I will tell the people in Tokyo that you are coming, then," The boy's lips curved in a tentative smile. "So that they'll have the sake prepared."
"I'll bring my sake with me," Hiko answered with a frown. "You rude ignorant."
Kenji arched his eyebrows, and felt a surge of nostalgia coming over him. He was going to miss his training, indeed. Or at least some aspects of it…
And, by the way…
"Will you… will you forgive me for leaving my training?" he asked, fidgeting with the right sleeve of his kimono. "I haven't finished it."
"And you wouldn't ever have," Hiko answered coolly. Kenji was left speechless for seconds, and then started to feel his blood boil.
"Why not?" he shouted. Petulantly again, of course, he realised when it was already too late.
"Because you're an immature idiot. See?" the old man replied in triumph. Then, sighing deeply as if he was weary, he got up, and dusted his white mantle with care. "Now, come with me. I have something to give to you before you leave."
Swallowing a lot of things he could have said to the insufferable jerk, Kenji followed him in silence towards the cottage. Yahiko wasn't sitting where he had left him anymore, and he figured that maybe he had gone away to practice or to meditate elsewhere. Kenji had been surprised at how much had those months changed the Yahiko he knew, so he was ready to expect anything from him now.
As they got inside the building, the young man had to stay at the doorstep for some time, blinded by the sudden transition from light to darkness. When his eyes got at last somewhat accustomed to the new shade, he saw that Hiko was inside, kneeling to search for something in a box in the corner.
"What's…" he started to ask, while he approached him. The old man turned back, and before he even could finish a phrase he found himself with a carefully folded paper into his hands. "Uh? What's that?"
"A letter your father sent me while he was in China," Hiko replied. "It just struck me you might need some help to figure out the man you're going to meet."
Kenji stared incredulously at the paper, then at Hiko - who had an unreadable expression again , and then, once more, back at the paper.
"What the…?"
"Spare me the expletive and get making supper," the old man grumbled turning back and leaving the room. "I have many pots to paint yet."
For a long while, Kenji stayed motionless, his eyes fixed on the letter in his hands. Suddenly, though, as he got back into motion, he rushed to hide it in his kimono as if it burned him with its touch.
(Tokyo)
Kaoru knelt at the edge of the futon, and slowly helped the tired man to lay his weight on it. He was shaking a bit, probably because of the cool air.
"Thank you," he whispered, giving her a warm smile. "Kaoru-dono."
"Have nice dreams, Kenshin," she answered, as always having to suppress a knot in her throat as she did so. The remembrances were too strong…whatever she did, she could not forget that last night in which she had tucked him inside his bed, and how they had ended up sharing everything they had for the first moment in their lives.It remained the most treasured memory of all in her mind.
With diligent but careful movements, she arranged the blankets over him, and gave him a kiss on his cheek.
"Are you cold?"
The man stared at her for a moment, then shook his head.
"No."
"Is there anything you want?" she insisted." Water? Tea?"
Kenshin shook his head to everything, and stretched a hand out of the covers to touch hers.
"You're better," he smiled. "That's good."
"Megumi-san has allowed me to walk around the house as I please today," she winked, taking the proffered hand into her grasp. "Maybe in some days I'll be able to go out."
Kenshin seemed to think about this for a while, his glance lost into some indeterminate point. Finally, he snapped out of his musings, and set a pair of inquiring eyes on his wife.
"Is Kenji going to arrive tonight?" he asked. Kaoru almost didn't succeed in suppressing the sigh this time.
"I don't know," she replied in a patient voice. "Maybe. Good night, love."
As she kissed Kenshin's forehead and blew the candle off, the woman was not able to meet his glance again. In a slow pace, she tiptoed out of the now dark chamber and slid the shoji closed behind her back; and only then she allowed herself to bow her head in worry.
"Asking for him again?" a female voice asked in a whisper. Kaoru turned back, and saw Megumi standing in front of her.
"Yes," she nodded. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
"Come over here and sit with me for a while," the doctor offered in a sympathetic tone. "I want to finish that book tonight."
The younger woman did not say anything, but followed her to the sitting room and sat down at her side. The temperature was agreeable there, next to the burning lamps, and she was almost tempted to take her haori away and risk a scolding.
"Why do you think that Yahiko hasn't arrived yet?" she asked after brooding for a while in silence. Megumi sighed softly, and put her book aside.
"It's ten days now since he left. Do you think he can fly?"
"Explain that to him," Kaoru retorted. "And besides… you didn't see Kenji when he left for the last time. I fear… I fear he might not come anymore."
The older woman blinked.
"Do you really think that of your son?"
"This is not about what I think of him, Megumi-san," Kaoru explained, leaning back with a somewhat ashamed expression. "I hate to admit it… but he has reasons to feel hurt. And it's my fault, not Kenshin's, even if he blames him. I failed to make my son understand his father, and never managed to appear in his eyes as anything else than a victim that should be avenged. I… I would give anything I own so that he would be able to listen to me and understand at last."
Megumi furrowed her brow.
"Don't be ridiculous. You can't help being in the middle of this conflict, Kaoru, or that your son uses you as a curtain to avoid showing that's him, the one who feels wronged," she said. "Lean back and cease feeling worried, or you'll never fully recover."
"But..."
"Yahiko will return as soon as he is able to. Don't you think he'll be remembering all the while that Tsubame-chan is staying with Yutaro?"
"Uh…? Oh, I don't think so," For the first time in all the conversation, Kaoru smiled at this thought. "There's Yutaro's Prussian sweetheart to take into account. What was her name, again…?"
"Don't even try. It's impossible to pronounce it correctly," Megumi answered with a grimace. "But it seems Yahiko took her into account as well, since he didn't mind that Tsubame stayed with them this time…"
Kaoru widened her eyes.
"And who wouldn't? That woman would whack Yutaro-kun down and tie him to a tree if he dared to get closer to another woman. I didn't know foreign women were so scary!"
"Foreign women?" Megumi could not help but snort. "Who whacked the hitokiri Battousai on the head with a wooden sword regularly?"
"And who can make any man feel ashamed of himself with a single sentence?" the younger woman counterattacked with a playful look in his eyes. Both stared at each other in mock warning for a while, and then, as if on previous accord, they giggled.
"We're much scarier than any foreign woman anytime," the doctor concluded. "And it's good to see you on the mood again."
Kaoru nodded, her smile now tinged with a bit of sadness.
"Thanks to you, Megumi-san. Since you're here, I…uh?"
Suddenly straightening her limbs in alert, the kenjutsu master interrupted herself at mid-sentence. Megumi straightened, too, and looked everywhere, but when she was unable to see or hear anything she set a pair of astonished eyes on her friend.
"What's the matter with you?" she asked in puzzlement. "Are you feeling…?"
"Kenji," Kaoru muttered, getting up to rush towards the entrance. "It's Kenji. And Yahiko too, coming here at a quick pace."
"Are you sure?" The older woman had spent enough time among swordsmen to know that great swordmasters were able to sense each other's ki in the distance. But Kaoru…?
Well, it's her son, after all, she mused to herself, shrugging her shoulders. Because of many unfortunate reasons, she wouldn't ever know what to have a son was like, but she could imagine. And, effectively, as she listened, some muffled voices started to reach her ears from the distance… from the courtyard of the house.
Don't tell me she's…she mumbled in mild anger, heading outside to receive the newcomers and give her patient an earful. Definitely, she thought, that girl would never learn.
"Kenji! I'm so… so glad!" As soon as she was able to distinguish the young man's form, Kaoru couldn't help but run to embrace him strongly, with all the love of a mother for her lost son she had not seen in more than a year. When she was in mid-embrace, though, a terrible remembrance came to her mind, and she let go of him a bit abruptly.
"You… you have grown very much." she muttered, hiding her sudden urge to retreat behind an appreciative glance. "My, you're a man, now… And so strong!"
"We came as soon as we could," Yahiko explained, in the midst of the uncomfortable silence that had arisen between mother and son. Megumi's silhouette could be seen walking towards them against the light in the porch, and he turned towards her for help. "Megumi, you're here! I see you got Tsubame's letter."
"Yes, I'm here," the woman said in a stern voice. "But I do not know very well why. I told you not to go out in the night, and you ignore me completely, Kaoru!"
"Sorry…" the addressed one muttered, returning towards the warmth of the house with Kenji in tow. "I… I had completely forgotten for a second!"
"Are you ill, Mother?" her son asked in a worried tone. As both stepped in, the light of the lamps lighted their faces, and they were at last able to see each other in detail. Kenji let his eyes wander over his mother's form, and looked very alarmed at what he saw.
"What has… happened to you, Mother?" he tried again, his voice now reduced to a whisper. Kaoru had to cringe, feeling as old, pale, sick and weary as she never had felt before under her son's piercing scrutiny. She felt almost tempted to run, to free herself from his grasp and hide any clue of the truth from him.
He was…so like his father…
"I…" She lowered her glance. "Your father came with a fever, and I caught it." Her son's grip tightened, and it was as if in a nightmare that she saw him lifting her arm. "But I'm almost… what are you doing, Kenji?"
Too late, she realised his intentions. As frightened as she had never been before, she pulled back, but not quickly enough as to prevent him from seeing the rashes that decorated her arms. His son's eyes widened, and his face was suddenly drained of its colour.
"Mother… This is…,"he stammered. She opened her mouth in anguish, and tried to say something, but no word escaped her throat. How could the worst thing possible happen not even five minutes after his arrival? "This…is…"
"Hey! What's the matter, Kenji?" Yahiko stopped with Megumi at the threshold. "Have you become a …?"
"Oh, no," Megumi whispered, letting go of his arm as soon as she understood the situation. "You've done it this time, stupid tanuki!"
"Where is he?" At last able to snap out of the surprise at the terrible discovery, Kenji was bent into action. Yahiko did not remember having seen him so enraged, even during the scenes he had made in Hiko's cottage on the mountain. "Where is he?"
"No!" Kaoru cried with all her forces. Showing a sudden inhuman strength, she rushed forwards, and got into her son's way to stop him. As if electrified into motion by this, Megumi ran towards the inner shoji too and disappeared through it, leaving Yahiko definitely alone with a situation he understood less and less at each passing moment.
"What the..!"
"I must see him!" Kenji continued to shout, unable to fight his maddened mother. "I must see him now!"
"It was not his fault!" she cried. "I was the one who chose, I decided to do it even if he didn't want to! I am the one you should hate, not him! Hate me if you want, but, please, leave him out of this!"
Kenji froze a second time at those words, and his struggles subsided for a moment.
Kaoru stepped forward slowly and, with some hesitation, she dared to pull him into a cautious embrace.
"But... but why? Why?" he asked, in a soft voice full of desperation. "Why? Why must things always be like this? Why?"
Yahiko, who was slowly starting to understand, kept himself apart from the scene, staring to the ground. Suddenly, he felt too terrified as to lift it, look at Kaoru and see the truth that Kenji had discovered already. It could not be…
"I will have many years to live, my son," the woman mumbled, caressing his red hair. "Many, many years. And, if you leave me again, this will be the only thing I will have left of him… see?"
The young samurai lifted his glance at last, in the precise moment to see Kenji's face contract at Kaoru's words. As long as he lived, he thought, he would never ever see on anyone a deeper expression of sudden horror.
When she had realised that the ruckus was inevitable, the only course of action which had appeared in Megumi's mind had been to check on Kenshin immediately. Leaving the room in a hurry, she ran towards Kenshin's and Kaoru's bedroom, and there she stayed still on the doorstep for a while, trying to hear noises inside. The only things she heard, though, were the sound of Kenji and Kaoru's voices from the other room.
Dammit, she thought, a bit less ladylike than what was her custom. Though she understood her and her motives better than what she should, this couldn't cloud her vision enough not to notice that the girl had done a great stupidity that would make things a lot more difficult not only for her. The selfishness of love, that's how people called this. Oh, if only Ken-san hadn't been so…dysfunctionally particular about his things during their life together!
Dysfunctional, dysfunctional. We all are, she grumbled, sliding the shoji open. That's why things are always happening to us of all people.
As she got inside, she could not help pausing for a while again, and then tiptoed carefully towards the futon. Kenshin was asleep, even if rolling so much in the bed that she guessed that he was having a perturbing dream. The shouts had now subsided in the distance, and the woman was able to hear whispers in a foreign language coming from his lying form.
Chinese, she realised in puzzlement. Kaoru had told her, but it was the first time she could hear him herself. It was very difficult, but for an instant she thought she could fathom the anguish he had felt there, alone in the middle of the horror. She felt a surge of compassion coming over her, and passed her hand over his hot forehead tenderly, thinking of all the times she had had nightmares as well, alone in an empty bed.
"Sleep well," she whispered, in an alluring tone. "Rest by night from the pains of the day. You deserve it more than anyone, Ken-san."
To her agreeable surprise, the man seemed to cease moving at her touch. Giving a soft groan, he laid his head on the pillow, and his breath regained its regularity once more. On her impassive, scarred face, a smile began to appear, the first true one in so many years.
I could have taken care of you, she mused, as she closed her eyes to prevent a tear from escaping. I would have also given my life for you, if you only had let me. But I guess I never even stood a chance.
Her hands went mechanically towards the discarded blankets, which she began to arrange with care on top of his thin, now shivering body. Then, when she had finished her task and inspected her handiwork behind a hazy veil, she caressed his cheek again, together with the humid red strands of his hair.
"Hmmm…" he muttered in a sleepy tone, instinctively shifting position to get closer to the touch. "Thank you… Kaoru…"
Megumi pulled her hand back, and got up to leave with a sad smile.
(to be continued)