Disclaimer: Again, I don't own RK or any of the characters (but I'll keep wishing that I did).
Firalyn: Thank you for your wonderful review! I look forward to hearing more of your comments soon! Here's chapter four - enjoy!
AN: I'm just kinda writing this as I go, so if anyone finds any discrepancies feel free to drop me a note and I will take care of it ASAP.
Kaoru:
It feels as though someone has stuck a knife in my shoulder and is twisting it mercilessly; I swear I can almost feel my muscles ripping. I'm afraid to move, afraid to stir in any way and cause myself more pain. I open my eyes and find myself staring at a ceiling. It's starting to brighten up outside as the sun rises, and I wish I could say that I don't remember the events of last night but that would be a lie. Because I remember them better than I want to - that man is still dead by my hand. No amount of sleep or unconsciousness will change that. I have slain a man, taken his life with a weapon that was meant to protect, not kill.
Isn't that what I was doing, though, protecting? I had to protect myself, protect Kenshin and the others. He was going to kill me - should I have just stood by and let him, lead him straight to Kenshin and then let him kill me? Would he have killed all of us? Yahiko and Sano as well as Kenshin and myself? He was a brute of a man, heartless and cruel - I'm sure he would have killed anyone he could find. I'm torn - my father taught me to protect without killing, yet when it really came down to it the only way I could protect was to kill. So does that make me wrong? I feel as though my faith has been shaken - I never understood why Kenshin always felt so guilty, and now that I do I'm not so sure that I want to.
Trying to banish these thoughts from my head I slowly raise myself into an upright position. My arm is in a sling, I notice, to take some of the weight off my shoulder. Megumi has been here. I feel sore all over, probably from falling so many times. Nothing feels broken though, and I think the worst of my injuries is my arm. I glance around the room and for the first time since I opened my eyes I notice that I am not in my own room. I must be in yours. I turn my head slightly to the left and find you sitting against the wall, your sword resting against your shoulder and one knee pulled up against your chest.
"How is your shoulder?" You ask me
"It hurts," I reply, looking away from you
We do not say anything again for several minutes, but I can feel your hawk eyes on my back. Did you spend all night in here with me, sleeping just as I saw you a few seconds ago? My thoughts trail off - I can feel the pain burning a hole into my heart. How could I kill a man? How could I go against everything my father ever taught me? Would he forgive me, if he were here? Can I forgive myself?
I know I should do something, but I just plain don't have the will. I don't wanna move, I don't wanna breathe, I just wanna lay here and stare at the ceiling and wonder at how I'm going to look myself in the mirror from now on.
"Are you hungry?" You ask me
"Not yet, but I'm sure I will be later. How's my shoulder?"
"Megumi says it's dislocated; you were in such shock that you didn't even stir when she set it. If you are careful with it she said it should feel just fine again in about five days. You're not to lift anything heavy or engage in any strenuous activities until then."
Good. So then I really can just lay here for the next five days and wallow in my grief.
The tears are falling from my eyes before I know what's happening. I just don't understand how I could have done this, don't understand how I could have betrayed my father and everything I believed in so completely. What's going to happen to me now? I can't continue to teach a technique that I have so irrevocably betrayed, I don't deserve to. I don't wanna be here, I don't wanna be feeling and thinking these things.
I am aware of you getting to your feet and slipping out the door as quietly as you can, and for some reason your departure only makes the tears fall faster. That's right, just walk away when I need you most, like you always do. I wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for you, if it weren't for your confounded anger! That's not true - it's not your fault. It was my decision to fight, my decision to rebel and attempt to take on that man. I'm angry, but it's unfair to place all that anger on you. I know this. So why I am still angry at you? I just wanna scream at you and pound my fists into your chest and call you horrible things. I wanna call you deserter and heartless and unfeeling ... I wanna tell you that not only have you broken my heart, you've now broken my soul. I wanna tell you that all I want is for you to make things better again. I want you to take away my pain and still the angry beast that eats away at me. If you loved me, Kenshin, you would want to stop this, you would want to hold me and kiss my hair and tell me that everything is going to be okay.
I can't help but wonder if I am now destined to live the rest of my life in the same manner as you do yours - always feeling guilty, waking up every night because of horrible nightmares. Will my soul be forever torn - will it never be whole again? Is this weight on my heart going to be there forever? Will the sky never be quite so blue again, the sun never quite as warm? What have I doomed myself into, what great torture is going to plague me for the rest of my living days?
My tears start to slow and I am left with an immense headache. My cheeks feel warm and flushed, perhaps from my sudden onslaught of anger. Just then I hear the door open again and I see your face appear above me - I should try to wipe my tears from my cheeks and hide the fact that I was crying, but the truth is that I simply don't care.
You sit down beside me and coax me into a sitting position. You are holding a steaming cup of liquid that smells surprisingly wonderful. I once again pull myself into a sitting position, my muscles groaning in protest.
"I brought you tea," You inform me, holding the cup up to my lips
I somewhat resent the fact that you don't give me the chance to hold the cup myself - I do have two arms, ya know. But then, since I rarely ever get the chance to be taken care of by you I guess I won't say anything. So I take a small drink and find that the liquid is just the right temperature and doesn't scald my tongue. Then something absolutely stunning happens - you carefully reach out and wipe the tears from my cheeks, your strong hands amazingly gentle against my skin.
"It'll be okay, Kaoru. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but it will. I promise."
I don't know what to say. You've never done that before - you were so gentle, so sincere and caring. Do you feel sorry for me? Or are you truly just trying to comfort me and make me feel a little bit better about the fact that I just killed a man?
"How do you know that?" I ask
"I don't know it - not for sure anyway. I just know that you are going to make it through this, and that I am going to help you every way I can. It is, after all, my fault."
Something inside me yells at me to tell you that it's not your fault, like I have done so many times before, but I just can't seem to make myself do it. I know it's not your fault - it was my decision to fight.
So why can't I tell you that?
An: Did that one seem kinda short? I'm trying to somewhat vary the chapters in length so that it doesn't get too bogged down. Anyway, that's my little rant. :) Hope you liked it.