Standard disclaimer applies.

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The Sound of Jasmine

By: Luna

Part 13: Reflection

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I didn't know what to think.

Side with the man I love, and go against what I believe in and accept his merciless act of killing?

I loved Kenshin, I truly did—but was he really justified in killing Jinei? True the man kidnapped me, but other than tying my hands together, the man didn't touch me at all. Well, other than when he put me in the shrine...

I glared at him defiantly as he gently placed me inside the small shrine. He stood back and stared at me for a few minutes, and for a moment, the craziness that had held his eyes captive for what was most likely half of his life, faded away until all I saw when I stared into his eyes was a lost soul that was too lost, too broken even then as he bared itself to my defiant gaze, to ask for help or even a small word of reprieve.

His hand reached out and the tips of his fingers stroked my cheek with a gentleness I knew not he possessed, and I flinched under his touch. His spine stiffened, and he straightened as he sat on a large boulder just a few feet away, emitting a soft "hmph" before he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag. He laughed suddenly a few moments later, shaking his head in what seemed like amusement but I couldn't be sure. "He made it here faster than I expected."

I couldn't help but shudder every time I recalled Kenshin's hard expression—or the calculating way he stared his enemy down as he figured out which strike would kill his opponent. I knew he killed, the name Battousai spoken from Kenshin's lips were proof enough for me. Then why on earth was I feeling this way? My limbs trembled in terror, and I knew my eyes were still wide with shock. And I swore I still felt those restricting hands wrapping tighter around my throat...

My lungs felt as if they were frozen, and a heavy weight was pressing steadily on my throat. My heart squeezed painfully inside a cage of ice made of fear, and I wanted to run, run away from everything that happened this day—this week, and run away from this incident that is about to become a haunting memory for me—most probably going to visit me night after night in the terrible form of a nightmare...

What was wrong with me? Fighting back a sob, I rose shakily to my feet and out the door of the rented room Kenshin got me and padded softly towards his room that was across from mine. Opening the door silently, I paused in the doorway, surprised at the sight that greeted me.

Kenshin was... sleeping.

I have never, ever seen Kenshin sleep before.

Shutting the door behind me, I pulled my sleeping yukata that Kenshin said he bought from the inn, more tightly around me before I walked silently to his side, kneeling beside him. His face was softer when he slept. The hard lines around his eyes and mouth softened, the furrow between his brows no longer there. He looked years younger, not the nineteen years he told me he was. The vibrant red of his hair was smooth and sleek and surprisingly unbound in the shadows, looking like the blood red color the sun sometimes gets when it sets, the many shades of light catching in his hair and making it seem as if embers from a fire still burned. The deep cross on his cheek—deeper and more new than I first thought; the scarring tissue more pink upon closer inspection.

His mouth was relaxed and slightly open as he breathed deeply. His lips were full—looking too sensuous to be placed on a man. The light made shadows play upon his features, his gi slightly open, exposing the smooth planes of his chest. Almost against my will, I lifted my hand and brushed my fingertips lightly against his face, underneath his eyes, tracing the path of his cheekbones.

His eyes fluttered for a moment before opening. My eyes widened when his eyes were no longer the hard color of topaz, but instead the soft color of lilac blossoms, turning deeper until they shone like amethyst. Time seemed to slow down as he stared into my eyes unrecognizable for a second before yellow amber once again returned and he grabbed the front of my robe and shoved me to the floor beneath him. It took another split second for me to realize his blade was at my throat. Again.

All this happened in less than thirty seconds. I did not welcome the deja vu.

My breath came out in sharp gasps as I felt the metal lightly graze my throat, but even that light touch was enough to draw blood, and I felt a little dribble down my neck. Kenshin was breathing harshly, his body now fully resting on top of mine as he flung his sword across the room, before he dropped his head to my shoulder. I lay there frozen, not even registering the harsh, dry sobs I heard him gasp, and my arms lay paralyzed at my sides pressed against the tatami mat underneath us. The tears that were dried on my cheeks welled up once more in my eyes, and I did the only thing that a frightened girl could do, and I started to cry.

I was silent, however. I stayed still as a stone as Kenshin raised his hands up and burried them in my long hair. Stayed paralyzed as he kissed my throat and lightly licked my cut, cleaning the blood from my skin.

Nightmares, I knew, were not what had plagued him. He had slept and dreamt a dream that must have been so wonderful and filled with happiness, that it changed the hard amber of his eyes to something even more beautiful; a warm and loving mauve—an eye color I never knew a person had. I had surprised him when I touched his face, and he must have thought I was an enemy of some sort. In his world of assassins, I could understand why he must have been so wary, so frightened, and I knew I couldn't blame him for reacting in such a way.

Slowly, I pushed myself from underneath him to a sitting position, cradling Kenshin's head in my lap as he wrapped his arms around my middle and cried into my stomach. But I knew that no tears left his eyes. How I knew, I can't really say. It could be that I felt no warm liquid soaking through the thin material of my sleeping robe. It could be that I knew a man like Kenshin never could really cry tears. But this was enough. Just knowing he could express his feelings, no matter how sad, in ways outside the icy mask he can't bring himself to remove from his face.

Besides... I had the feeling that... that there just weren't any tears to be had. There were too many things in his life to mourn. If he started now, he'd never be able to stop.

I cried silently as I rocked back and forth, holding the person I held most dear to me than any other to my stomach. "What… what were you dreaming about?" I murmured silently, hoping that he would open up to me enough to tell me. I waited until his shoulders stopped shivering and his arms to loosen around me slightly before asking him again.

"I was... dreaming about you." A sigh escaped his lips as my fingertips brushed across his unmarred cheek. He breathed a sigh so full of wistfulness my heart ached. I said nothing.

"We were in paradise." Once again, his eyes turned that hazy amethyst, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. I stared in amazement at the expression I knew I might never see again. "At first, I was all alone, standing in the middle of a green meadow—green so bright and beautiful; it must have been in the spring time. In the distance, you could see mountains that still had the tips covered in snow. I think it was just after a battle, because my clothes were torn and dirty, soaked in… that color. And I was tired. Grass billowed all around me like the tides of the ocean, and I swear I heard the sound of a running brook nearby."

He breathed in deeply, as if he were smelling what he had in the dream. "Then I smelt… jasmine. I turned around, and there you were, standing there smiling at me... you held out your hand then and said..."

"... What?" I whispered as silent as I could lest I break the spell that seemed to have woven itself around us. Something monumental was happening here. Kenshin; my cold, detached Kenshin, was opened his heart for me, telling me things I knew he probably didn't want to say.

"Welcome home..." He breathed out on a sigh as he closed his eyes. "Kenshin..."

Tears welled up in my eyes once more, only this time not in sadness or fear. I closed my eyes in case they fell, smiling to myself when I felt him fall asleep in my arms.

Home never looked so welcoming as it did when Kenshin and I strode hand in hand inside the front gates.

I forgot the past that always seemed to hang its heavy and weary head on my shoulders, and smiled when everything was the same as it was when I was taken. I watched silently as Kenshin let go of my hand and made his way inside the house, no doubt getting tea or something for us to drink.

He hadn't said a word about what had happened a few nights ago. When we both awoke the next morning, I was leaning up against the wall with his head still in my lap and our arms still around each other. He had quietly sat up and told me it was time for us to go, then walked across the room, sheathed his sword that he had flung across the room the night before, and marched outside. He was waiting for me outside the inn when I was ready to leave.

But since then... nothing. Not even a 'how are you?'

I wonder... if he regretted his actions. Well, of course he regretted it; drawing his sword on me was the last thing that was most likely on his mind—I'd be a stupid fool if I believed otherwise. But... if he regretted showing that side of him to me. But while I was thinking and pondering over his regrets, I wondered if his late wife was shown that side. Did he let her see the softer side of him? Did he let her watch and touch his face while he slept? Had she ever been frightened of him, while at the same time loving him with all her heart and soul?

I wasn't jealous. Or, at least, I don't think I was. Loving someone took time; time to feel, time to get to know, and time to adjust. I was almost positive he loved me, even though I longed to hear the words. But I wouldn't press him or push the matter. I shouldn't be so selfish by asking him to put what he and I felt together into three simple words, so I'm not going to.

Sometimes, I've learned, that words just aren't needed. Smiles, touches, and gestures sometimes speak more than mere words. The way his facial expression stayed stony, but his eyes would smile and warm to a point where I'd feel flushed. The way he would lightly touch my elbow or my hand throughout the day, as if he couldn't get by without those simple pleasures. He would wait for me at dinner, placing the mats side by side and close together so that our elbows would 'accidentally' bump into each while eating.

And now... well, maybe it was just my imagination, but something was wrong with him, and my curiosity was going to get me in trouble with him again. I should ask him what had been irritating him so.

But... maybe I'll wait awhile.

When we arrived back at home, he said nothing, just went straight to his room and shut the door behind him.

I stared for a long time at the door, waiting for him to come out and speak to me, hoping that he'd come out to maybe even look at me. But the door stayed shut, and not even a whisper of sound or movement was heard from the inside. Eventually, I went to my own room, listing to the small hiss of the shoji sliding shut.

A few more days went by, and still he ignored me. It hurt. It hurt with a pain I thought I had gotten used to feeling, only for it to come back and remind me I hadn't. Why was he avoiding me? At my wits end and fast losing my temper, I approached him. I wanted to go up to him, demand at him, rage at him for hurting me.

But the one night when I spied him under his favorite tree, standing up and staring into the midnight sky, I only said, "Why are you running from me?" Very silent, and very painful. I didn't understand, and I wanted to, if only he'd explain.

He looked at me for such a long time, I thought he wasn't going to answer me and, in the end, it seemed he wasn't, for he only turned his back and started back towards his room. But I wouldn't let him turn away from me now. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now! "Kenshin!" I cried out, "Don't you walk away from me, dammit! Talk to me!"

His head was bowed, his shoulders stiff, and I felt my own shoulders start to slump in failure.

"Why do you stay with me? Why do you want to?"

His quiet voice startled me, but I only stared at his back sadly. "You should already know that, Kenshin. And if you don't, then I don't understand why you're here."

He froze.

"I love you, Kenshin. You know I do. Please don't push me away anymore... I can't take it..." My strong voice ended up nothing more than a whisper. I started to cry.

He was in front of me in an instant, gathering me in his arms and burying his head in my neck. "Why? Why do you love me? How can you? I'm nothing but a murderer. What reason do you have to want to stay with me?"

"Kenshin..." I whispered, burying myself deep in his chest. "Reason? When has reason ever have to do with love? I don't need a reason for why I love you, Kenshin. I just do. I can't help myself."

Silently, he tipped my head back, kissing me fully on the mouth, his lips never leaving mine until I couldn't stand on my own and my breath came out in gasps. I ran my fingers through his hair in wonder, smiling to myself as I watched the silken strands slip through my fingers. Kenshin shook his head, grabbing my wrists to stop me. He spoke softly, "You shouldn't mess with something stained with such a tainted color."

Tainted color...? Realization dawned. Red. To him, red was nothing but the color of blood.

"That red color of your hair... do you really think the only thing that color represents is blood? Idiot," I murmured as I grabbed a handful of it and held it in front of my face. "There are other things in the world that hold the same color. Quit acting like you don't deserve anything and stop finding ways to hate yourself."

I heard him sigh, but I ignored him as I took his hand in mine and led him to my bedroom. I was nervous. What woman wouldn't be when offering herself to a man? There were so many things I wanted to say to him; so many things that would never be heard. Instead, I wanted to hold him close to my heart, watch his face in the darkness, and tell him without words how much he meant to me.

I felt words would be meaningless. I felt he truly wouldn't feel the depth of my love for him, unless I showed him how foolish he was in the first place for ever thinking that he didn't deserve me, or that we didn't deserve each other. He needed somebody to be his anchor, and no god was going to fill that spot for him. He needed somebody to take his hand and show him he no longer had to be afraid. He needed somebody... exactly like me.

I would never make him feel that he wasn't wanted where he belonged. I would never make him feel as if he were alone. I knew that if he came to me after this retched war was over, he would cherish me because I would cherish him, and he would love and need me because I loved and needed him. I would tell him I loved him every night until the day we died, so that even when he closed his eyes and slept a sleep he'd never wake up from again, he'd know that someone had been there and loved him, and he'd know thatthat someone was me.

I couldn't fault him for being so hesitant in accepting what I freely offered. To me, it was just something that proved how great and worthy he was to find happiness, because he showed restraint when other men would have been stumbling with their ties in their haste to bed a virgin woman. For that, I loved him all the more, and because of the fact that I loved him, I felt no shame in opening my arms to a man that was not yet my husband, and letting him be the one to truly make me a woman.

He taught me that night so many wondrous things. Things that made the darkness behind my closed lids turn to blinding flashes of light. How he made my stomach clench and feel like there was no longer a world around us, for it shattered the moment hejoined with was only him, and it was only me, living in a world created by us, loving in a world that could never be.

I told him I loved him again. Over and over and over, making sure he'd never forget. Whispering in his ear how dear he was to me, telling him with my eyes my sorrow, but showing him with my smile my joy.

It was a futile effort when I reached for him in the morning. I knew he was not there, yet still I reach and I probed the spot beside me and searched for the man who left me without even saying goodbye.

I waited for him. Waited until the sun was high in the sky, and even after it had fallen. I waited in hope that there was some miniscule chance that he'd return for me. I waited in vain. He would no longer come to me. He would no longer let me hold him, let me kiss him, or let me love him. That night, I closed my eyes to the harsh, hurtful truth.

Kenshin had left.

Things went on as they usually did.

I went to work, came home, cleaned, put all the finishing touches on the gift I sewed for Kenshin, and went to bed. Sanosuke was by me the entire time, not saying a word. Just being there was enough to give me comfort.

When I finally felt as though my life was getting back on track, another tragedy struck, in a form I had least expected.

"Kaoru!" Sanosuke yelled as he barged into the tavern near the end of my shift. It was cold outside; the wind blowing fiercely snow whirls inside. Customers complained, but Sanosuke ignored them. It was then that I realized that he was covered in soot, holding a dirty package under his arm. I recognized it immediately. It was the present that I had made for Kenshin, onlyI was unable to give it to him.

I walked over to him as quick as I could, my hair swaying gently behind me in its loose ponytail. "Sanosuke! What is this all about?"

"The house is on fire."

I didn't say anything. I just stared at him silently for a moment before I went in the back and grabbed my shawl, and then silently followed him out the door. When I saw the flames reaching high in the air, I started running, Sanosuke calling after me in vain.

I stopped in front of the gates, my feet covered in the snow that had started falling a week before, my hair blowing with the wind wildly about my face. How could my life be so horrible? Kami gave me life as a child, killed my family, gave me Kenshin to love, only to take him away again, and then burned my house to the ground. Would my sorrow ever end?

Sanosuke's hand landed heavily on my shoulder. "C'mon, Kaoru. I have a place in Tokyo. Come live with me there. There is nothing here for you anymore."

He was right. I had no family, no Kenshin. Nothing held me here any longer. Not even Kasane, who was fast becoming a friend to me once again.

Without a word, I nodded, and he led me back with him to the inn he was staying at. He took care of work matters for me while I sat listlessly in my rented room, and the next day, we started our journey to Tokyo.

The ashes of my heart still burned with dying embers, but I was too worn out to even attempt to fan them back to a flame. The sorrow in my chest felt as though it would never go away. The constant ache behind my eyes that always threatened to release its tears never left me. Sanosuke was there, true, but when I glanced at my side, always expecting to see the face of a man I'll never see again, always looking for the shadow that should be beside mine, hurt me the most and in a way I thought would surely kill me.

I left with Sanosuke, trying to seal the remnants of my echoing pain, wary that it might be heard by ears I didn't want to be aware, and leaving the shattered remains of my past behind me, in the ashes of the place I once called home.

A stranger in my own country, I took the first step that day into a new life I had never expected to find, living in a place I never expected to live, and meeting people I never thought would change me, warming my heart to what life was supposed to be.

Kenshin. a day never went by that I didn't think of his haunting, lonely eyes. Not a minute passed by with the hope that any minute, Kenshin would appear along the horizon, his topaz eyes searching the landscape for a woman I hoped he couldn't live without. The shadow and presence of the man that should be beside me was a constant andlonely ache in my side, but its presence still welcomed. I would not turn away from the memory of his face, or the hope that he would come looking for me,was the only thing keeping me stable.

All I could think, was that I hoped to all the gods out there, that he would look for the woman he had once loved, not resting until he found her, while she not rested until he came back.