Memory's Touch
A RK fanfiction by eriesalia: onigirichan mindspring dot com
Standard disclaimer applies.


The rain had stopped, and he mourned its absence. He missed its gentle falling, just as he missed Megumi's earlier gentleness.

"The rain has slowed. We should leave now, if we're to make the Aoiya before nightfall."

Instead, she had made every attempt to put distance between them with pragmatic words, ones with which he could not argue.

In the end, logic kept his lips closed, but a divine gust of wind blew in, cold and brisk and bracing. Winds of fate, he mused, which betrayed her uncertainty and caused her to shiver slightly.

Shinomori Aoshi, the genius of the man that he was, saw in that one shiver more than enough opportunity and reluctance on her part to try yet again.

"Are you ill?" He placed himself between her and the door, between leaving things simple and undiscovered, and the alternative of indulging feelings, emotions, and passions as they had almost done in Tokyo just a short time ago.

Before she could answer, he had pulled her to him, firmly – not roughly – to place his fingers against her skin, to see if she could truly weather the distance back to the city. But the moment he touched her skin, wet with water, yet again he forgot that he was trying to measure warmth.

Instead, he touched her and could only measure softness, and hardness. There was the softness of her skin against his, and the softness of her voice as she sighed and leaned against him. And there was the hardness of the door against his back as he leaned back, with her weight fully upon him, and forced it shut. And there was the strength required to keep himself from pressing her against the hardness of the floor.

He was nearly undone. Logic was failing him, and her, as his lips grazed against her cheek and moved gently down her neck. "Are you ill?" He asked it again, his hands meeting around the small of her back, encircling her protectively. He held her while thinking about all the protests she had voiced earlier. She was, by her own admission, as broken as he – and, afraid.

"Aoshi," she finally relented, putting one free arm found his waist and letting her head find its way to a place under his chin. "It's not about you. It's me."

"Half-formed people we are, you and I." He repeated her words back to her.

"I'm afraid that I have become cold and scarred inside. How can two wounded, cold people minister to one another?"

Cold. Scarred, yes. Perhaps wounded. But cold? How odd that she thought them so very much alike, maybe too alike to ever be able to help one another in her mind. Yet--

"You are not cold." One of his hands drifted up slightly to stroke at the hair that fell loosely down her back. No, she could never be cold to him… a woman who never quite acted as she ought to, and who always seemed to defy logic and convention. "And I will prove it to you."

She lifted her head from its resting place to look at him in the eyes, her mouth slowly curving upward in a gesture of something akin to amusement. "How?"

A challenge. Somehow, it seemed to revive her spirits… something of the woman who was and could be Takani Megumi as well as him. He pressed his lips to hers. She would not have the last word on this matter between them being over– not like this.

When he relinquished her, she opened her eyes slowly. Lazily, her mouth quirked into a half-smile. Her eyes were bright, her face flush with so many unreadable emotions. And her voice was uncertain as she tried to mock him. "Is that your irrevocable proof, Shinomori? A simple kiss? Well then, we should be leaving then for you're wasting your very breath--"

He found himself reveling in it -- the disdain in her voice and the pride – the proof that Megumi Takani wasn't cold and defeated inside.

"Aa." He interrupted her by turning her around, pressing her against the door, and eliciting a surprised laugh. "You are no more cold than I," his mouth was already moving in to silence her again, his hands alternating between helping her untie the infernal knots of her obi, and holding her as she trembled again this time, but this time not in sickness or fear. "I didn't come to these mountains for Kenshin," he whispered against her lips , recalling what she had said earlier.

"I know," she admitted finally as she kissed him. "I know," she laughed a few blissful moments later as she breathed great free breaths as he had divested her of everything she wore and she grasped the front of his coat desperately.

"Still, it's very unfair—"

"Unfair?" He quirked his eyebrow at her.

"Unfair," her eyes open and shut lazily as her fingers started to pull at the shirt, and free it from its ordered state. He barely could keep his thoughts straight and ordered enough to not drop her as he lay the trenchcoat and her on the floor of the shelter.

She smiled up at him victoriously as her fingers finally slid underneath the rough fabric and slid inside. "I'm very cold and you won't share your shirt."

"I'll share the shirt," he answered darkly. "I'll share everything," he added before he let her pull him to her and silence him.

o-o-o-o

She was smiling as he finally drew himself beside her and rested his head against her shoulder. "Are you cold?" he asked her quietly in her ear.

"No," she blushed slightly, as she recalled the past few hours. "I would say… not."

He chuckled, and she frowned. Her mouth opened to probably tell him something insulting, but he had quickly learned that it could be silenced with a kiss. Instead she pouted slightly, but allowed him to move to cover her with his clothing. "It's raining again," he sighed.

Her eyes grew bright with amusement, as her fingers tapped lightly against the scars on his chest. "It's rather late to head back to Kyoto."

"Yes," he answered somewhat dryly. "And if the rain continues, it may be days before we can return." He looked down at her as she clutched his shirt to her, his mouth quirking into something resembling a smile. "I hope you aren't disappointed to not be leaving Kyoto so soon."

"Disappointed?" Her resulting laughter was exultant. "I'm certain you can ease that disappointment, then Shinomori. That is, if you think it worthwhile and if you are up to that challenge."

"Aa." He looked at her and her smiling face, contriving innumerable ways to keep her satisfied, and more importantly… from ever leaving him.


Author's notes: I am putting this fic into a slightly better place to go into hiatus if ever need be. Of course, I still think I'm being evil here by throwing something like this at you all. heh. heh. heh.

BTW crazy Meg/Aoshi writers who are interested in participating in our next Roundrobin should look at my profile for info on a few webpage/community updates. Thanks!