Himura Kenshin never got drunk. Not to a point, at least. This wasn't to say, of course, that he wouldn't ever go out, and enjoy a few drinks, out of some festivity or another, but he always judicously monitored his enjoyment, constantly admonishing himself for being tempted to leave the realm of safety.
He always counted how much he had, and how often. He sometimes faked tipsiness for the sake of courtesy, and mimicked the image of a man enjoying a little fun for the sake of making his friends feel comfortable, but inside, as with most other aspects of his life, he faked it. He never left his circle, never let his gaurd down- not to anything, and most certainly not to a silly think like a glass of sake. There was a deep apprehension within him, rooted strongly with unknown origin. It was the fear of losing his self-sufficiency, of possibly, even if temporarily becoming dependant. It was for this fear, that he never leaned, whether literally or figuratively on anyone. He kept his courteous physical distance, for there was the danger of eventual loss; of being betrayed, or worse- betraying.
Nobody may know why, then, in that night, he drank just a little too much. Nobody may know if he ever even knew what he was doing, or if something subconscious drove him to push the limit, just a bit.
Regaurdless of the reason, that night, he swayed a bit as he walked out of the cozy local restaraunt, Sano at his side, laughing at his lack of equilibrium, even though it was clear that the effect of his own excesses was showing itself in the intoxicated blush on his cheeks.
The redhead's ankle gave in for a second, and the shoulder of his friend was the only thing that interrupted his small frame's quick venture for the ground. He gripped at the cloth of the taller man's shirt, struggling against the pull of gravity, and his own semi-incoherence. He supported himself, rather helplessly, as his friend just shook his head, and raised his own arm to help him balance. He rested his head, giving his tired neck a break, and took in the tiny nuances of that moment- the warmth of his friend's body, the balmy night air which gave way to short breezes that tickled his hair against his face, the scent of the open night intermingled with the bitter stench of alchohol.
A sort of warm and fuzzy aura enveloped him as he dumbly swayed, and experienced the safety and ultimate relief of letting a helping hand guide him for once.
It was that night that Himura Kenshin conquered his fear of leaning.