Symphony

MysticShadowWanderer

Disclaimer: One day, Duane E. Scott, elevator necromancer, went off on a Journey. While singing "Lights" (When the lights go down in the city...), he met up with Clovis, King of the Freaks...

Intermezzo

The ceiling greeted Kenshin as cheerlessly as it ever had when he opened his eyes. A low groan passed his lips as he stretched his aching limbs; he hadn't meant to fall asleep on the floor and he was now regretting the mistake. Through the gossamer curtains that he hadn't remembered uncouthly pulling closed, the glaringly full moon gazed down at him in half-hearted disapproval and for less than an instant he felt as though they were watching him again. Shaking his head to dismiss such paranoid thoughts, he reassured himself that he was free of the shackles of his previous life; he had severed the ties that he had so painstakingly linked together in his youth.

With loud protesting from his offended back, he struggled to sit up. A frown creased his face when he thought back on the days when he would sleep nightly on hardwood floors, reclined against a wall or a stack of books or whatever was provided him; this luxurious lifestyle that he'd created for himself in hopes of killing off painful memories had lulled him into a sense of security and laziness. He felt as though he were hopelessly out of shape and resolved to spend more time practicing his swordsmanship, despite the fact that he rarely had to use it anymore. One could not stay physically healthy if they spent most of their free time sitting in front of a piano.

Stifling a yawn, he stretched, catlike, once more before standing. In another brief moment of panic he recalled that he had been expected at work three hours ago and his eyes widened impossibly while his body froze completely until he realized that it was Saturday night, and he had Saturdays off. Apparently his employer was under the impression that he was a religious man and attended church on Sunday mornings. He wasn't entirely sure how and when this conclusion had been reached, but it really made no difference to Kenshin when his free day fell, because he rarely did anything other than train and play the piano or perhaps, every so often, go to an art gallery. He liked to live as simply as possible in these hectic times.

Kaoru was silently thankful that she didn't have classes until one in the afternoon on Sundays, because she knew that sleep would be hard to come by that night. Instead of even attempting to relax in her bed, she was pacing the long wall of what she'd so recently deemed the piano room with a cup of green tea in her hand that was all but forgotten. All her newfound knowledge was converging quite violently with what she had previously thought she knew; revelations and foundations were colliding and breaking apart with all the force that she could muster so late at night, and she could feel the onset of a tremendous headache.

How could she possibly be right? It didn't make any sense. At least she thought it didn't make any sense before, now she wasn't so sure. Certainly, it would explain some things, but it left so many other questions unanswerable. With a huge sigh, she dropped down in a thick armchair that she'd salvaged from a thrift store and made presentable with only minimal sewing requirements.

Setting her mug aside, she rubbed her temples softly with well-practiced fingertips. What should she do now? The immediate answer was to get online and look for answers, but she couldn't seem to get over her instinctive skepticism and it didn't appear to be such a good source as it was. How could you trust anyone you met or anything you read online?

There was one question that overwhelmed all the others in her mind, though, one that bre more significance than all the rest:

How would she be able to face him again?

A/N: A few things to clear up, which means, fun facts! Yes, this chapter was short. Yes, I did it on purpose, for formatting reasons and mostly just because I'm weird. Note the title, please.

Intermezzo: noun (pl. intermezzi or intermezzos) 1) A short connecting instrumental movement in an opera or other musical work. 2) A short piece for a solo instrument. 3) A light dramatic or other performance between the acts of a play.

See! Now it all makes perfect sense! Yay! Also, in my last A/N, I must have lied. Apparently I'm feeling extra creative after taking a day off and only sitting around playing the piano and listening to classical music. Sweet. Also, in the disclaimer... Well, it's nothing important, but I just wanted to mention that Clovis was actually the king of the Francs. Turns out when I skim chapters in my world history book that I make some rather entertaining mistakes in eye-to-brain translation...