Hello, everyone.
This took me an immense time to get out, because it took me an incredible effort to write.
Be forewarned—this chapter is painful. I had some trouble writing it because it hurt me so much. (Yes, I know, how sad. v.v)
Thank you so much for all your reviews. All of your support is really encouraging
"…" denotes speaking.
… denotes thoughts (Italics)
***…*** denotes flashback
DISCLAIMER: Kenshin is mine. That's really all there is to it.
Watsuki has copyright on our story, however. So I suggest you take all your complaints to him.
This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend, Crystal Renee. I love you, babe.
NOTE: I do not know who originally came up with the idea of Kaoru having jasmine as a particular scent, Watsuki or a fanfiction author or whoever. However, I'm using that in this story, so please don't sue me.
And also, this story WILL have a happy ending. It just has to go through a lot of dark spots to get there.
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Chapter Five
Outside, the storm and rain had finally quieted down from a furious roar to a melodious pattering of drops on the dojo roof. The world was held in a half-illuminated night, shadows obscuring all but with just enough light from the occasionally visible moon to show lonely travelers their path. There was a listening silence spread over the land, like the night was holding its breath.
Inside her room, Kaoru lay wide awake on her futon. Instead of her usual sprawling sleeping posture, she had drawn all limbs tightly in to her body, and was lying curled up and facing away from the hall. The door that connected to the outside of her room was slightly opened, allowing a cool breeze to sift its way through.
Her dark eyes were open, but they did not see the peaceful rain outside or the darkness of midnight. Newly wrought ghosts flickered in her mind, and Hiroji's dead face was haunting her. She dared not sleep, because then she would risk meeting her victim in dreams, and she did not want to ponder the consequences of that.
Saito's words from the afternoon whispered in her mind.
It won't be that easy to find forgiveness, Kaoru-san.
Had she been allowed a punishment, jail sentence or government labor, she could feel that the debt on her soul was repaid if not redeemed. But as her sin was not considered a crime…
Kaoru's lower lip caught in her teeth, and she bit it nervously. How could they do that? A man, a living, breathing human had been killed, and they refused to seek vengeance merely because the life he had had been a questionable one! He was still human—sins or not, villainy or not, he deserved the same treatment as any other.
The rain's dancing increased outside for a moment before again receding into a quiet rhythm.
But then, it was too late for redemption on poor Hiroji's part. He was dead—she chewed harder—and as much as she might wish it, there was no way to undo that. So then, the reason that this bothered her so was for her own sake. Because she felt she needed redemption.
A bitter smile twisted her face in the dark. Selfish, self-absorbed Kaoru, aren't we? She asked herself sarcastically. Always and only thinking about yourself. Self-hatred rose in her breast, and for a moment she wrestled with the insane urge to transfer her bite from her lip to her tongue.
Your death won't bring back the lives you've taken.
Kenshin had said that, once.
As his face shone out in her mind like a beacon, her agony eased away. Kenshin was every reason for her to remain alive. If she went and did something stupid like suicide, he would be so sad…and he didn't deserve more pain.
Poor Kenshin, Kaoru thought to herself, letting her thoughts settle on this familiar subject. Her sweet Rurouni. He had been through far too much to have to deal with her. Loss of his parents, Hiko's training, the Revolution…and Tomoe.
Tomoe. Her eyes closed for a brief moment in silent prayer. Tomoe was another reason to stay alive. She didn't fancy what Kenshin's first wife would have to say to her if she happened to meet her in the Afterlife.
She probably wouldn't even deign to speak to me, Kaoru reflected. Clumsy, stupid, violent tanuki as compared to her? She was perfect—no wonder Kenshin went wandering for 10 years after losing her.
Wandering…wandering to pay back for his sins…
Wandering to forget. Wandering for salvation.
It won't be that easy to find forgiveness…
Kaoru suddenly sat bolt upright in bed.
Wandering to find forgiveness.
Kenshin had gone wandering for ten years after Tomoe died to pay for the sins he had done.
To find forgiveness.
She had done the exact same thing as he had. She had killed—and now she knew she needed to seek redemption.
Could she…maybe not for ten years…but couldn't she go…?
She spent a long time in the same spot, not moving, her eyes not seeing anything save for her own thoughts. Finally, she raised her head, and the clarity in her eyes made them shine like lanterns in the dark.
Silently, she rose from her futon and began to undress, exchanging her sleeping yukata for a training gi and hakama in subtle, muted colors that would blend into any background. A sturdy new pair of sandals covered her feet, comfortable and well-built, and able to last with her through a long period of walking. A dark cloak covered her and would conceal both her gender and her shinai. A wide-brimmed straw hat completed the outfit, pulled low over her eyes so as to throw shadows over her features.
A curl of excitement raced through her as she quickly moved towards the door. All she had to do now was stop at the dojo to grab her sword, and then…
A soft sound rolled ghostlike through the dojo, echoing and reverberating through the wood timbers and paper walls. Kaoru froze at the sound, recognizing it in a heartbeat.
Her heart constricted painfully in her chest. Kenshin…
She owed him more than this.
Movements slowed by pain, she turned and knelt by the small writing desk she kept in one corner. A thin, rosy sheet of rice paper unfurled itself on the burnished wood, and the ink was still liquid in its tiny jar. She picked up a brush and scrawled a few characters onto the paper, then blew lightly to dry them as fast as possible. With a few careful creases, the paper was folded and sealed, and she was again making her way to the door.
Kaoru slid her bedroom door open with a snap. She stepped out into the darkness of the hall and halted, listening for any other who might be awake at this time of night. The familiar sounds of the dojo resounded clearly in her ears. The creaking of the house settling in on itself, releasing the heat it had absorbed during the day. The rustle of the wind through the trees outside, their branches shifting against each other. The faint drip of water trailing off the roof to land in a puddle by the porch.
And then, from within the dojo, the sound of her freeloaders and friends. Sano's rumbling snore from the spare room he used whenever he chose to spend the night. Yahiko's soft grunts and sleepy mutterings from the room next to hers, his body turning restlessly as he strove to find a comfortable place. And from the room just across from hers, the quiet sound came again.
Cautiously, Kaoru crossed the hall. With tiny, gentle movements, she slid the door of the room back and open. Her breath caught at the vision inside.
Kenshin lay on his futon, face up. The covers were folded down by his feet—apparently he wasn't very cold, for instead of a sleeping yukata, he was clad only in his baggy hakama, slung low about his hips. His limbs were strewn almost carelessly about, one hand resting up by his hand, and one hand tucked around his sakabato that was lying close by the mat. His fiery bangs had fallen back from his face, revealing the handsome, chiseled face of the man beneath them. His scar seemed to almost glow scarlet in the dark, the mark somehow managing to make him more beautiful. His eyes were closed in deep sleep; shadows still clustered about his brow, memories and nightmares clear in his mind, but at least now he wasn't trying to deny their presence as he always did when awake.
Kaoru found herself breathless, and viciously reminded of the physical beauty of the man she loved. Kenshin was so full of courtesy and gentle smiles, so willing to hide beneath his hair or his morals, that it was somehow easy to forget that he was a very handsome man. Her heart twisted again in her breast, and she fought the urge to abandon her penance, to go and curl up beside him, to feel his arm curled around her and his chest beneath her fingertips.
It was the pleasure accompanying these thoughts that forced her back to herself. Pleasure was bad. Good thoughts were bad. Kenshin was beautiful and kind—and he deserved so much better than her.
She stepped into the room. Immediately, a frown creased Kenshin's face. She froze, cursing herself for overlooking his unusual ability to sense ki. If he woke up and caught her…
But no. After a moment, his countenance smoothed out again. Whether he had lost her or merely recognized her presence, she couldn't say, but at least he was deeply asleep again.
She waited a few minutes more to be sure he would not suddenly spring to his feet and jump at her. Then she glided forward, clutching the letter tight in her hands. She carefully bent down and over his form, laying the paper on the other side of his sword. As she began to pull away, Kenshin shifted slightly beneath her. A soft, gentle sigh issued out from between his lips.
Kaoru couldn't move. She stayed were she was, hovering just over him, watching as dreams and nightmares flitted over his face like clouds scurrying across the moon. A small smile played about his lips, curving up the corners into the sweet expression she was so used to seeing first thing in the morning and last at night. Her fingers reached up, and hesitantly she traced the shape of the scar on his left cheek.
With a hoarse sob, she finally drew herself away. Shadows seemed to cluster around him again as she pulled back, and the smile left his face. Biting her lip to keep from crying out in the dark, she retreated, one foot behind the other, backing out of his room, unable to tear her eyes away from the one person that she would miss the most.
Finally, his image was broken from her by the bedroom door sliding shut. She rested against it a moment, eyes closed in silent apology. Then she turned, and darted quickly down the hall and out of the living quarters towards her dojo.
A few minutes later, Kaoru was in the darkened yard. Her favorite shinai was tucked safely away beneath her cloak, hidden from prying eyes. She stared at the outer door that would lead her away on her travels, then turned and glanced back at the dojo that had been her home all her life. A breeze caught at her dark hair, blowing it loose in the night, as she gazed on what—and who—she was leaving behind.
Goodbye.
The word dropped unheard from her lips, and soared away into the night. Shoulders squared and resolve strengthened, Kaoru turned back to the outer door. She heaved the bar out of the way and silently pushed one door slightly open. As it swung closed behind her she took a deep breath, and vanished into the darkness.
* * *
Goodbye.
Kenshin's eyes snapped open. He lurched up in the darkness, his sword already halfway out of his sheath, staring into the darkness.
Nothing. No one there.
He sighed and re-sheathed his blade. Having a hitokiri's nature had its ups and downs. He had incredible senses and soul-reading skills, yes—but roaring to life every time a mouse crossed your room for fear that an ambush was starting tended to make a body a bit grumpy in the morning.
He stretched slightly, feeling oddly tense. The sounds of the rain outside had quieted, so the downpour had slackened for a while. He listened to the sounds of the dojo for a moment, then frowned. Something seemed…off. Muted, somehow.
He shook himself. Really, now. Just because the evening had been…well, rather terrible…that was no reason to go and get all imaginative about things. Everything was perfectly fine. Right?
Uh-huh. Right.
And Saito's words to Miss Kaoru were just his compliments on her ohagi.
He closed his eyes and opened his mind, probing at all areas of the house, his battle-ki rising in his chest. But no unwanted shadows lurked in corners, and there seemed to be no one anywhere trying to break in. In fact, he didn't think that there was anyone awake within a mile, save for perhaps one lonely traveler who was headed away from the dojo anyway.
He relaxed slightly. Maybe he really was getting too paranoid. You could hardly blame him, though. He had had to fight psychotic pyromaniacs, nutsy ninjas, and the insane little brother of his dead wife who happened to be quite handy with a sword. Not to mention having his friends constantly throwing their lives in danger for his sake, hunting him down when he tried to keep them safe, and managing to get themselves captured by madmen.
Kenshin Himura definitely had reasons to be paranoid.
He listened for a moment more, then sighed. There was nothing around now that needed his attention. The best thing to do would be to lie right back down and go to sleep.
However, with the amount of adrenaline now surging through him, this was impossible.
Kenshin groaned. It would take a half hour at least for him to calm down enough to even get a half-hearted doze, much less a good night's sleep. It was good that he was used to little shut-eye, otherwise he would be found unconscious in the laundry bucket every morning.
He pulled himself fully into a seated position, and shuffled back to lean against the woven walls of his room. The hilt of his sword rose to rest on his shoulder, while the end of the sheath lay between his tucked legs. He folded his arms around his sakabato and let himself slouch against the wall. With a movement as natural to him as breathing, his head drooped forward, and scarlet hair fell to cover his face from the world.
This position was one that held so many memories that sometimes it was tempting to never sleep in it again. But it was one he was used to, and he often did his best thinking this way, curled up around his sword. And right now, he needed to do a lot of thinking.
His mind almost immediately trailed away to the conversation at dinner.
* * *
"Did the police say anything else about what was going to happen?" Sanosuke asked. He seemed to be striving very hard for a casual tone. The silence between the four residents of the Kamiya dojo (Miss Megumi had left not long after the investigation had wrapped up) had presided over the dinner up to this point—an awkward, painful silence that had everyone looking everywhere but at each other.
Kenshin looked up for the first time since he had sat down next to Kaoru at the beginning of the meal. There was a faint warning in his eyes as he looked at Sanosuke. "No, they did not. I think everything had been decided before Saito spoke with us, that I do." He lowered his head again, clearly hoping to end the conversation.
Sanosuke whistled. "Not even a reprimand—you sure got off lucky, Missy."
Beside him, Kaoru stiffened. She had been very tense the whole evening, hardly moving and not eating a thing. Her aura was worrying Kenshin—it was curiously blank and muted, like she was trying to hold herself back, to lock her mind and heart away from them. He sent a small glare at Sano, willing the scruffy man to be quiet—if Kaoru got any more overwrought, he was afraid she'd break apart.
Sanosuke seemed not to notice. He went on, starting to ramble slightly. "I mean, hell, of all the people to give us a break…you must have impressed that creep somehow, Jou-chan. Otherwise I imagine he'd have done everything he could to—"
"Shut up, Sano." The order came, unexpectedly, from Yahiko, who was giving his friend a fairly icy look of his own.
For perhaps the first time in his life, Sanosuke obeyed the one-time pickpocket. He lowered his head to his food and took a huge bite of rice, spending an immense time eating it and not looking at any of them. Kenshin relaxed slightly again, and began to sip at a cup of now lukewarm tea.
Again, the silence draped over the table like shroud.
"Someone say something." Kaoru whispered finally. "Anything."
Kenshin glanced uneasily over at her. "Miss Kaoru…"
Something about this seemed to upset her even more. She gave him a quick, wide-eyed glance before hunching her shoulders and dropping her head once more. Her thick black hair slid in front of her face like a curtain, cutting her cleanly off from him.
After a moment, Yahiko cleared his throat. "I guess I'll have to talk to Tae about skipping work today. I think she'll understand, but I'd feel better if I apologize anyway." He seemed to be desperately trying to obey his teacher's request for conversation, but the effort seemed to be costing the young boy a great deal.
"How is Tae doing, anyway?" Sanosuke asked, finally swallowing his mouthful of rice.
"Very good."
"And Tsubame?"
A ghost of a smile hovered over Yahiko's face. "Good as well."
"Well, that's good."
"Yeah, I guess it is."
"Yep."
The two freeloaders hesitated, shooting nervous glances at Kenshin, clearly not knowing what to say next.
"How is business going for the Akabeko?" Kenshin asked quietly, sending them both a thankful nod.
"Pretty good. Could be better, what with certain people not paying their tabs…" Any other night, Yahiko would have shot Sanosuke an accusatory look and Sanosuke would have flippantly responded. Tonight, Yahiko only laughed uncertainly, and Sanosuke gave a tiny, embarrassed cough.
Kaoru suddenly leapt to her feet, her eyes flashing and pained in her pale, tightly-drawn face. The three men stared at her as she began to stammer. "P-please forgive me. You go on eating, I-I think I'll turn in for the night." Without another word, she turned and raced from the room. Moments later, they heard her bedroom door slide open and slam closed.
Yahiko and Sanosuke both sighed in relief. Kenshin gave them both a furious glare. Sanosuke raised his hands. "Sorry, Kenshin, but this is a bit too much for us, ne? Not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say…" He shrugged.
After a long, long moment, Kenshin nodded his assent. "It'll be better in the morning, that it will." He murmured tiredly, beginning to clear everyone's dishes. "Then we can get back to concentrating on our normal lives." He did not meet their eyes as he collected their things and moved towards the kitchen.
* * *
Better in the morning…
Kenshin shifted slightly. Well, it was technically morning now, and things were NOT better. For him, at least. Hopefully, everyone else was in a much better position than him. Sleep was infinitely preferable to midnight pondering.
A loud pattering made him jump. He was uncurled and prepared to battoujutsu-ify the next person he saw before he realized it was only the rain increasing. Instead of relaxing, he completed the movement and rose to his feet, his hand still tense on his sword.
Perhaps a quick turn around the dojo would help settle the matter of whether things were right or not. Six months ago, perhaps, he would have dismissed his jumpiness as silly and chalk it up to imagination. But he had learned that when it came to his family, instincts of ANY kind were usually to be obeyed to the letter. Especially the ones that made his deadlier instincts, the side of his personality that had achieved the name "Battousai", come out.
Yes. A quick turn around the dojo was a VERY good idea.
This decided, he swiftly turned to his door. Carefully and quietly, he pulled it back and exited his room, stealing silently down the hall.
Almost immediately he froze. In the darkness of the hall, in the unmoving air, he smelled something. A familiar, sweet odor, comforting and arousing all at once.
Jasmine.
Kaoru had been here. Very recently too.
He hesitated. Kaoru's door was just a few paces behind him. He could certainly just turn around and check…
No. If she had been by here recently—perhaps on her way to the kitchen or dojo—then that meant that she was either still there or had returned to her room. If she had not yet returned, then he could search her out and perhaps offer some solace or companionship. If she had just returned, then she would probably still be awake. It would be rude to intrude in an unmarried girl's room, that it would. He would search the rest of his home first, then come back and check on Miss Kaoru's room.
That settled, Kenshin began to move down the hall once more. He flitted silently from kitchen to bathhouse to dojo, searching each thoroughly, making sure that his ki came off as exceedingly threatening. If there was someone there that he could not sense or see, he wanted them damn well aware of whose house they were dealing with. No one would rob from the Kamiya dojo while Hitokiri Battousai slept under its roof.
But each place he searched was empty. Somewhat annoyed, Kenshin wrapped up his patrol and headed back towards the main house, half-heartedly wishing that there had been someone there to justify his uneasiness.
The jasmine scent struck him again as he walked down the darkened hall towards his room. He halted again, this time just outside Kaoru's room. He stared at her door, trying to hear her breathing on the other side.
Idiot. He berated himself. Just take a quick peek and begone!
Still he hesitated, wanting to check on the woman he loved, yet unwilling to intrude where he wasn't wanted. The thought hurt him—always, always Kaoru had come to him for comfort or strength. Why would she block him out now?
Now, more than ever, he wanted to be by her side. The dinner scene had merely intensified his desire to help her, to be with her, her guiding light in a hard time.
Because he had been the only one to see the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes as she fled the room.
Coming to a decision, Kenshin raised his hand and offered a respectful knock on the shoji door. "Miss Kaoru?" He called softly.
No reply.
Taking this to mean she was asleep, Kenshin slowly edged the door open, peeking timidly in, hoping to see her fast asleep and lost to pleasant dreams.
Then he opened the door wider, a faint spiral of fear unfurling in his stomach.
The room was empty.
The covers on Kaoru's futon were mussed and sprawled, yes. The pillow with an indent where her head should have lain. All candles doused and all lamps put out.
But Kaoru was not there.
He clamped down on the fright that was beginning to creep up his spine. Stop it. She's fine, she just went to the toilet or—
But he had just toured the entire house, and he had not seen her.
Where…?
Kenshin stared at the room a moment more before sliding the door shut again. He turned and strode down the hall, moving quickly towards his own quarters. Perhaps Kaoru was in his room…perhaps she had directly come there after her nighttime excursion, looking for his help. Perhaps he had just missed her when he did his search. Perhaps she was there now, waiting for him.
He slid his door open with a snap, expecting to see Kaoru turn with a start at the noise, to see her looking up at him with surprised, relieved blue eyes.
But his room, too, was lacking in Kaoru's presence.
Kenshin stepped into his room and gave it an accusatory look, as if it was his apartments that were to blame for Kaoru's absence. This was getting slightly alarming, that it was. Maybe he ought to take another turn around the dojo and make sure that Kaoru was not there…
As he turned to go, his eyes caught on a folded slip of rice paper lying beside his futon. It looked like it had been left right by his sword, slipped under the mattress just slightly so it would not be blown or knocked away.
That cold fear ran up his spine again, and this time he did not stop it.
Slowly, Kenshin moved further into his room. He reached out and plucked the letter from its hiding-place, absently noting the scent of jasmine that wafted through the air as he slowly opened it.
A few characters lay sprawled on the page, written in a black ink so striking that it took him a moment to fully grasp the meaning.
Two words.
Forgive me.
Kenshin stared at them for a long moment.
"No…oh, no…"
The letter slipped from his hands, forgotten. Kenshin whirled and flew from the room, not caring that his footsteps banged on the ground loud enough to wake the other members of the dojo. He flew to Kaoru's room again and flung open her door, cringing at the sight of the still-empty room. The same process was repeated at Sanosuke's and Yahiko's rooms, both of whom sleepily gaped at him as he ripped their doors open like a madman and slammed them closed again. Ignoring them, he tore across the yard, checking every place in the dojo—training hall, kitchen, porch, toilet, bathhouse!
"No!"
All empty.
Fear gave way to anger, to confusion, to disbelief, and—finally—anguish.
Gold shone out in his maelstrom eyes. As did tears.
His gaze turned slowly, brokenly to the outer door of the dojo that was cracked slightly open, swinging slightly as storms winds tore at it.
Kaoru…
The wanderer fell to his knees, clutching at his sakabato, staring at the half-opened door.
What had he done, when faced with so much death…?
"Kaoru…" He whispered, then his voice rose to a harsh scream. "Kaoru!"
Don't go! Don't leave me!
Silence.
Hitokiri Battousai, the most feared man in all Japan, fell forward and pressed his face into the ground, for the first time feeling as lost as a child without its mother. And as the rain pelted against his back and lightning cracked overhead, he cried.
Several miles away, Kaoru hesitated and glanced back down the road, sensing an unspoken cry.
"I'm sorry, Kenshin." She whispered.
Then she continued on into the night.
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