Usual disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is the creation of Nobuhiro Watsuki, with the manga and anime rights belonging to Jump Comics and Sony Entertainment, respectively. FF is non-profit, meant for entertainment only and can be archived anywhere, just let me know where. Please send no flames, I'm sensitive. But for all other comments you may contact me through the review button, alright. All right.
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CHAPTER THREE: Within a glance
The ground beneath him shifted as a sense of vertigo entered his limbs and he tilted forward, gripping the hilt of his blade as something in him roared. And pale-yellow fury, broke past the last restraints, drowning him in an all consuming fury, no amount of reason was enough to hold.
Battousai moved, beyond pain, beyond loss and the reach of her love as he struck out in vengeance. Killing the reason his life was gone. He desecrated the body. Bereft of thought and reason, remorseless in his overwhelming anger and desperation, his need to inflict the same kind of pain he was feeling tear him apart. He became awash in blood. Furious, that she had left him, that she had loved him, shielding him with her body, so that he could live.
He hated her—for not being selfish enough to save herself, for loving him more than her own life. He cried silent tears that seemed too loud amongst the dead quite. So what, if deep in the middle of the forest, surrounded by so much death, he picked her up. Held her body close and whispered useless words of love as he rocked them back and forth, he couldn't have her back. Though he wished for all-the-world a second chance, to see her smile and laugh, watch her eyes grow alight with love—happy as she'd always been; calling to him with frustration in her tone and her gem like eyes, dark with fury. He wanted her. And it ripped him apart that he had realized too late what she meant to him. What could have been, if he had allowed himself the chance to love her? He whispered her name, choking on the syllabus that had once brought him joy—as he cried.
Unresponsive as warmth enveloped him in a deep embrace and the scent of jasmine filled his breath, he continued to cry, too overwhelmed by his sense of loss to be able to discern the difference between warmth and cold. He felt dead, on the inside where she had lived, he was dead and he willed his heart to understand, so that slowly, his breathing eased; the beats of his heart with it, as he slowly slumped forward . . . into her waiting embrace.
But there was screaming, were there should have been silence. And even in his deep rooted wish to die and be at peace, he heard her scream his name. Fear and anguish, filtered through the layers of sleep then, making him react faster than needed, faster than the rurouni as his eyes snapped open and he half rose off the futon, reaching for a weapon he no longer had, his katana . . .
Kaoru's grip on his shoulders tightened, watching worriedly as pale-violet eyes focused on her face, traces of amber slowly ebbing away, too slow for her not to notice. As his expression settled in relief and his hands closed around her waist, roughly brining her down to him—he held her. Close against his chest, breathing warm against her face—thinking so incoherent still, he pushed her slightly back. Gently tracing the sides of her face before his hands took to lightly cupping, warming the tender slope of her throat in a gesture so very much like affection.
Confusion and want, raced through Kaoru who for the life of her would have sworn that Battousai was not capable of anything she would have ever considered tender and yet, the way he held her, touched her—"Kaoru . . ." even the way he said her name . . .
"Kaoru-dono," he meant to push her further back but her face crumbled and he paused in his attempt, knowing full well why but hesitant to broach that subject. He steeled his nerves, ceased the unconscious touching of her face and drew himself back. "Sessha," he stopped, cleared his throat of the roughness it'd gained during sleep and tried again. "Sessha did not mean to worry you Kaoru-dono but . . . it was just a nightmare. It's all right now, sessha—"
"Stop it," her voice, a whisper, of its normal strength made him focus on her again. "Please, stop it." she begged, drawing slowly back. "I don't want you to lie to me. If . . . if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But please, don't lie to me."
As expected, his gaze skirted away from hers, guilty and ashamed. Aware that for the last couple of days now, which ever way his mood had shifted, he'd either drawn closer or pushed her further back. Unable to control his actions to the extend he always had before. Not because of guilt or whom he used to be but because of . . . Enishi.
He hardly ate, he barely slept and all the hours in between he spent thinking about how to avoid spilling his frustrations out onto the others. Manipulating his expression, so that she would see what he knew she needed to see. But that was becoming harder and harder to do. Everyday he put on his mask, smiled and laughed, tried so hard—for her, because she needed it. More than he needed to be sane. He wanted to keep her happy. But . . . maybe it was time he left . . . just for a short while . . . He thought, maybe if he could come up with a good enough excuse, she would let him go. But as he met her gaze, felt the tremor of anger spark in her ki and the worry in her eyes dissipate, he rethought the idea of suggesting it just then. Instead, he cleared his throat, looked around the room and wondered twice that morning why his sword wasn't by his side.
"Ano," he couldn't think with her so close; "My sakabatou?"
Kaoru's narrowed gaze fleeted once around the room then twice more when she noticed it was truly gone. "I—I don't know, I didn't see it when I came in." She said, suddenly troubled by the thought of someone else touching it, using it.
So was Kenshin, he knew he wouldn't have left it far. He'd learned his lesson after Gohei tricked . . . "Yahiko?"
"He slept over at the Akabeko." She looked around again, nervous. "You don't suppose . . . someone came in and took it do you?"
He didn't know. He should have but with all that'd been going on—fuhh, he didn't want to get angry. But damn it, he tore the blankets off him and stood, aware of her eyes as he redid his ponytail and headed for the door. Stalking as Kaoru trailed just behind, curiously quite as he made a round of the dojo. Then one of the grounds when he didn't seem to see it . . . beneath a tree, the same tree he'd found her crying under just the day before . . .
His gaze flickered to her face but she'd just turned back, and was surveying where his eyes had been. When surprise light up her face. And he knew she'd seen it too. So why he reasoned, as he left her some feet back to get it, would she be surprised if she'd been the one to take it in the first place—though why he would even think that, he had no clue. Kaoru, he knew would never take it without asking and if ever she did take it, she wouldn't be so careless as to just leave it out where anyone could take it. It hadn't been her; but if not her and if not Yahiko, then who?
He bent down carefully, looking around for footprints or other clues, but there was nothing there. Still he unsheathed it, examined the blade front and back and looked over every single dent he'd put on it before brining it closer. To Kaoru it would seem, to get a better look but that's not why he did. He needed to be able to smell it, to make sure that all he could pick up on was the cold smell of steel, the leather around the handle and a slight musk of dirt and sweat—no blood.
But there was a faint trace of something, as he scratched at the tip of its back. Careful of the sharp edge, as he got the substance off—he brought it closer to his eyes, inspecting it for a long time. Carefully turning over what it could be . . . what he was afraid it might be . . . though in the end, unable to determine what it was. He re-sheathed it, cast a cautious glance around and grabbed her by the elbow as he took them back inside; unsure of what to think, as he gripped the hilt of his blade, the stirrings of anger beginning to wake as he wondered just how careless he had become.
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Sano smiled, surprised to see her at the door and waiting with that look of worry, darkening her eyes. "You keep showing up like this Jou-chan and people are gonna talk."
She rolled her eyes. Blew a way ward strand out of her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Come off it."
His smile grew larger wondering where she could have heard such an expression.
"Something happened today?" He asked, opening the door and letting her in.
"Yes, Kenshin's Sakabatou . . . someone took it outside. But it was neither me nor Yahiko and he doesn't think it was you, so?"
"But he would have sensed someone come in."
"I'm not sure he can anymore, Sano. I just—I don't know. I asked him earlier but he never answered me," which could mean absolutely nothing there were things after all which he would just never discuss with her but it had seemed like he didn't know. And though she knew she just shouldn't assume . . . she couldn't help it. He was been so difficult, she'd just thought—
"Jou-chan?"
She looked at him, frustrated and annoyed, her thoughts easily led astray by thoughts of her rurouni in trouble. "What?"
Sano grinned. "I said, maybe he left it out."
"No, after Gohei—he always keeps it near."
"Maybe, he just doesn't remember."
Kaoru looked at Sano, wondering for a moment, if maybe the ex-gangster had fallen and hit his head—suggesting Kenshin would forget . . . she shook her head. "No matter what is going on with him . . . he would never just leave his sword someplace . . . you know that."
He agreed of course but he liked the idea a whole a lot more than someone—anyone, being able to enter the dojo; take something as well guarded as the sakabatou and get away. What did that say about the assailant, if Kenshin really hadn't been the one to leave it out?
"I don't like what you're thinking."
Sano frowned. "What?"
"You think that because he looks tired, he's somehow . . . he's not weak Sano."
"I know Jou-chan."
"Then why do you keep trying to pin things on him."
"What?"
Kaoru shook her head, trying hard not to cry. She was so tired of it. That's all she'd been doing lately. Something happened and there she was, a pool of tears just waiting to brim. No that it hadn't been nice of Kenshin to come after her the day before, but she wasn't going to start letting every man and his dog see how weak she was. Where was the pride in been a Kamiya, a kendo instructor and current female interest of the Hitokiri Battousai—in accordance with that stupid article. Kaoru sighed. "I have to go," she was worried he'd think something had happened to her, especially after earlier. She sighed again, really ticked, that things needed be so complicated for them. "I'll see you later for lunch or dinner, all right."
Sano hesitated, wondering if he should tell her now or later or just tell them both at the same time, since now, he wasn't even sure if he should— "Wait Jou-chan, I'll walk you back."
She smiled. "Thanks but you don't have to, I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, well humor me then."
She huffed disagreeably, though she still allowed him to walk her back, she thought Kenshin at least agree would that it was better to have an escort home when he felt there might be trouble, even if he hadn't been so forthcoming as to admit that there might be trouble, at least just yet.
The thought only made things more complicated, since she'd begun wondering if all of these things weren't just because he wasn't sleeping well. He had been acting so odd—but after seeing him, so tormented by his dreams, those nightmares. She'd begun to think, that what ever he felt during the day, was not been carried over into his dreams, because whatever he saw there were true horrors, things she probably couldn't even begin to imagine, he wouldn't have been crying otherwise, nor would Battousai have emerged so quickly when she'd called for him. Well for Kenshin, she amended, still surprised that the hitokiri had been the one to respond. And that he'd . . . he'd be so affectionate.
Kaoru sighed, rethinking her theory on the rurouni and his counterpart. And wondering, once again, just why he'd been so relieved to see her. The rurouni saw her everyday, after all, so why would Battousai be so happy to see her.
Thinking, about it only made her head hurt as she soon realized because for the life of her, she'd have thought that if anyone would want to avoid her it'd be Battousai whom she'd thought would only see her as a hindrance, something he needed to avoid, perhaps even ignore. But now, having seen him so close without the usual anger coloring his thoughts . . . she had to wonder, if perhaps she had been too harsh in her previous judgment of the hitokiri. Who like the rurouni had been terribly alone before she'd come along.
Sighing, wistfully, bitterly, she admitted that perhaps despite everything she liked to believe, she still didn't know him at all.
Turning into the street of the dojo with Sano quietly along, she tried to banish the nasty thought, too late perhaps as guilt welled up inside her, freezing her step just outside the gates. Hesitant to enter and face the concerns of a man, she didn't think she deserved. Not until she understood—the thought trailed off as the gate swung open, Sano half turned, noticing her lack movement as he paused, turned back towards her and reached out with a gentle hand, wondering why her expression seemed so caught . . . caught, he realized on something just behind him as he turned. And stared at a topless rurouni, hair unbound as he seemed in the middle of returning inside.
Only he had stopped, caught between modesty and her shy curiosity which seemed to prompt a strange sort of fixation with the way her tongue slowly wet her lips and her eyes, darkened with emotion, he felt had no right to exist. Turning away, glancing at Sano instead, his eyes narrowed, gaze zeroing on the hand touching her shoulder, in what he supposed might be comfort.
Sano took a step away, knowing jealously when he saw it. He smiled at the much smaller man, "Oi Kenshin, where's your gi?"
He was baiting, Kenshin knew, expecting an, Oro in feigned ignorance before flushing and moving out of sight, to hide or change, whatever was required or expected of him to do but not today. No, he shook his head, not today. He was tired. For three days now, all he'd had was an hours worth of sleep, and he feared being unable to protect them if the need should arise. Despite the nightmares, he knew he needed sleep. Had to get some sleep before his nature shifted and he was forced away to that dark place where sleep rose like dark heavy waters, weighing him down into a state of unconscious surrender, barely alive and no longer aware. Like Battousai, had been for more than ten years, before Jineh . . . before Kaoru.
He turned away, knowing what they might think, the suspicions that might arise but . . . What could he do, if he couldn't sense his enemy? Nothing was more important than protecting his family, protecting Kaoru. Everything else, he felt he could explain. Just not now, when anger seemed to be all he was capable off.
Fisting ice-cold hands, he disappeared into the house, hoping more than anything that even if only for a couple of hours; they would just let him be. Let him get that little bit of rest his mind needed so that later, he could explain himself properly, sooth her worries and hope to dissuade Sano from the dangerous line of thinking he'd sensed as of late. He didn't want nor needed him filling Kaoru's head with any sort of hope about him coming around.
He was staying with her simply to protect her, to make sure she had a chance to live as he had been denied. No matter what. He swore that even as a rurouni, he could not ever hope to do enough to be worthy of her love. And no matter how much a selfish part of him insisted that an hitokiri, a legend, and savior to the people had done more than enough by providing her with a peaceful era, he would not bite.
His love for her would keep him in line where his need and want would rather have him turn, smile at her and pull her close. To pepper her face with kisses and have him breath dangerous, seductive words of love into her soft, pale throat. He could not and would not, as long as he clung to reason and his mask. He was a rurouni, peaceful and compassionate and with a vow to never kill again. And because of his past, especially because of his past, he would not yield to such selfishness.
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She was worried now, of course she was worried. It'd been hours since they'd come home and still he hadn't emerged from his room—if he was even in there. Kaoru shook her head. Of course, he was there. She wouldn't start doubting him now, getting all suspicious merely because he'd been a little distant—a little rude . . . like he'd never been before. Kaoru sighed, pacing back and forth down the same length of hall, unused to such fathomless confusion, it was driving her insane. Still, circling back to it for the millionth time, Kaoru wondered what in heavens name, had driven him to retreat the way he had? Was he worried still about the sakabatou, had he seen the 'article' from the day before? What, she wondered, was driving him to act this way—what?
She broke her pattern, striding past a napping Sano and into the hall leading to their rooms. She would ask him now before she chickened out and went back to pacing. To wondering—no more, she thought, clenching her hands, she was determined this time, walking right up to his door with her arm raised, ready to rapt on the wooden frame of the shoji before she chickened out . . . again. Again, she thought, backing up a step, she didn't understand why it was so difficult to do it. She had entered his room many times before, had woken him only a couple of those times but still, it's not as if she had never come to stand right here before.
Only now, it felt different, she knew that's why she was having such a difficult time. With him acting—not himself, her stubborn mind insisted, clearly choosing to ignore certain facts. That after many hours of thought, were declared too dangerous to probe any further and so she was forced to abandon certain conclusions on the grounds of them sounding too much like wishful thinking.
Sighing, she backed up another step, shaking her head in defeat before she turned back. Quietly, so she wouldn't wake him if he was indeed asleep. Which she hoped he was, he had looked so weary, earlier . . . without his gi . . . and his hair unbound . . . Kaoru closed her eyes, shaking the image from her mind, as she walked away, a bit too far as she overtook a step from the narrow path and walked right off the side, falling hard on to the ground below.
She bit back a cry, as pain flared along her senses, knocking the wind out of her a moment before she tried to rise. And whimpered, as she realized her fall had been somewhat broken by her hands, injuring an already fragile wrist. She cried out as she raised herself, unable to stop the sudden throbbing shooting up the injured arm. She leaned up against a beam, breathing heavily as the pain intensified when she tried to move it closer, higher against her body in a protective hold.
It was then the shoji slid open, revealing a tidied up Kenshin just as a still drowsy looking Sano came around the bend; both sets of eyes looking from each other to her before locking. Sano, she heard curse, saw him jump off the narrow path out of the side of her eye and idle close by as the rurouni took her good arm and pulled her closer. Inspecting the injury to the right wrist before, long calloused fingers touched the skin around it, watching her expression as he gently pushed against it, adding more and more pressure until she suddenly cried out and tried to back away, only, he wouldn't let her go.
"It's just sprained." Albeit inflamed at the moment but, "Sessha . . ." his gaze flickered to her face, "can fix this Kaoru-dono."
Kaoru-dono . . .
She could have thrown herself at him, she was so relieved. Never mind the much hated nickname, he was himself again. "Kenshin," there was no more need to worry now. He was fine.
"But if you'd rather have Dr. Genzai, Sano can go and—"
"No," a smile tugging at her lips, "If you can fix it, it'll be all the better."
"Oro?"
She couldn't help but laugh then, watching confusion cloud his eyes. She took a gentle grasp of his slender wrist before gently tugging him inside. "Come on," she coaxed, looking over and behind his shoulder. "Sano can be your nurse."
"Oi," insulted, thoroughly insulted, the ex-gangster trailed behind. Mumbling under his breath about a good-for-nothing rurouni and a too temperamental woman, he absolutely refused to name by name—though after a quick, menacing gaze from the said woman, he ceased speaking all together as he helped the idiotic rurouni when he asked him to fetch him bandages. Leaving them a lone a moment as he walked off to her room in search of the medical kit the doctor lady had left behind.
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"Kenshin . . ."
Like a warm summer breeze. He turned his face into it, gently coaxed by the warmth in her features, so open and honest. So hopeful . . . "Aa," he clutched his sleeves tighter, waiting for the brown haired man to hurry and come back. Sleep had cleared his mind a bit but not so much he could be left alone with her.
"Are you feeling better now?"
He nodded, studiously avoiding the dark cobalt gaze as he took a closer look at her small hand. "Sessha," he said softly, "just needed a bit of . . ." space . . . "rest," he said, ignoring for a moment, the memory of her dream-self and the way she'd twined around him, brining comfort to him in the dark abyss of his ever changing memories. "Kaoru-dono . . ." He had made the mistake of leaning in.
She couldn't help but reach out to him, touching over the sides of his face and gliding her fingers through his bangs, she was disappointed as he slowly eased back. As if she wouldn't notice the subtle, pulling away. His meaning quite clear; in that—don't touch me . . . please—look she suddenly found in his turned away face.
"Oi!"
Kenshin turned as the ex-gangster came back into the room. And though he could sense the hurt in her expression, he refused to be turned by it. Stretching his hand to take the kit, he quietly set to work. Hastening through the ordeal without ever pressing how much it pained him, to be this close, to have her want him—to touch him, to comfort him, simply because . . . He pushed away the thought, trying to detach himself from the feel of jasmine scented skin as he finished bandaging her hand—before pulling away—further from her reach as he cast an inquiring glance her way.
"Is that better?"
She didn't notice the slight difference in his speech pattern. Didn't wonder where all the polite, guilt-ridden form of speaking had gone. Her eyes, as her attention were all focused on his face, the way concern filled his warm purple gaze and his face, contorted into an apprehensive frown.
"It's fine."
Sano, who'd been quiet so far, let out a long awaiting sigh. They were back to that game, were they? "Kay, so you feel better. Can we eat now?"
Kaoru sent him an infuriated look but he shrugged it off. Everything was back to normal and damn it, he was hungry. "Come on Kenshin, what were you making for lunch?"
That was his cue, like always to avoid the intimacy of an argument, as he stepped back focusing on Sano. "Tae-dono brought some food by earlier." He said, "We can have that . . . that we can." He watched patiently as Kaoru's frown slipped slightly and Sano's face brightened considerably, reaffirming his belief that Sano only ever heard what he wanted to hear, this time, Tae and food, as the younger man rubbed his hands enthusiastically. Kenshin smiled a little. "Sessha will go and get it—"
"Yeah and I'll just go and have seat, come on Jou-chan."
"Sano," she warned, jerking away from the hand coiling around her elbow. "I'm going to help—"
"He doesn't need your help—"
"But—"
"It's fine," Kenshin suddenly said, smiling reassuringly before moving back into the kitchen.
And deflating her ego, Kaoru's struggle ceased almost right away. Turning her gaze towards the ex-gangster now, she said very softly, in a too quiet voice. "Sano . . . Let. Me. Go."
"No, listen—" but as he tried to pull her further away from the hall, felt the full force of her bokken knock him back. He almost released then and there. If not for him being used to pain . . . "Listen," he hissed, yanking her away from her spot. "I want to tell you something before he comes back."
He was stronger, she realized, for the moment with only her left hand in good use. She wasn't able to do much and neither were her strikes as powerful. Sighing, she faced him.
"I'm leaving."
"So go then," she exploded. Irritated that she'd lost the chance to be alone with her rurouni simply cause he couldn't stay.
"What?" She growled and as he wouldn't quit staring. "What?"
"Jou-chan," she certainly wasn't making it easy, he thought. "I mean, I leaving . . . as in Tokyo . . . as in Japan."
Leaving . . . by himself. "Why?"
"There are things I need to do." Like getting away before Kenshin comes to realize it's not sadness I feel when I watch him and you together. "Kenshin's fine now." He shrugged. "You can handle the rest, right?"
"Yes, but . . ." He was like her older brother. "Where will you go? You're not in trouble are you?" Of all days, why tell her today and like this . . . behind Kenshin's back. "You are going to tell Kenshin right? You're not just going to run off without saying good-bye—are you?"
"No," he reassured. "I'm going to tell him, I just wanted to tell you first?"
"Why?"
"Because . . ." I think I love you. "Jou-chan—" He didn't want to betray the trust Kenshin had placed in him. But—looking deep into her jewel like eyes and seeing the new born worry there—he stepped back, releasing her arm almost hesitantly. She's only concerned, he reminded. She loves me like family and I couldn't . . . I wouldn't take advantage of that. Whom she loves is Kenshin; as she should. Some time away would prove that to him. That what he felt now, was only something in passing, because she was the only female he'd ever really cared for—because of her kindness and innocence, her temperamental childlike nature and brute force—because . . . she was as she was. He grinned good-naturedly and kissed her forehead. "I just—" but he never finished, like before he suddenly felt Kenshin's presence too close.
Without thinking, he stepped back, tucking away a sudden wave of nervousness as he glanced towards the rurouni who'd stopped at the door. And though quite a distance away, it was his eyes that stopped him from moving any further.
"Kenshin, Sano's leaving."
"Jou-chan!" Damn it, he was going to tell him. Just not when he looked so damn pissed, Che!
He made no attempt to grab her as she walked on past him, though he did wonder if she was as oblivious as she suddenly seemed. Edging so close to Kenshin when he was pissed like that. Fuck. He certainly didn't have the nerve. But then he wasn't built like that either he thought, watching the rurouni's attention waver, refocusing on the small hand curling around the edge of his sleeve.
"He's leaving Japan."
But there was very little reaction on the rurouni's part, for a moment, his eyes only met Sano's which made the younger man wonder what the other was suddenly thinking.
"Where are you going?"
Kenshin's voice, Sano thought sounded awfully calm still, so it probably wouldn't hurt if he took a couple of steps forward, a little closer to the table and the food, which despite everything had not been forgotten. Still—"China," he answered, eyeing the food as the rurouni paled.
China . . .
For a moment everything flashed white behind his eyes, his only thoughts centered on grief and pain and the death of one woman because of another.
Enishi.
Hatred and anger seemed to cloud his mind, for a moment blinding him of his past and of his promise, the urge to protect so strong—he felt the dizzying affects of his perceptions shifting; the call of danger too strong, to fight against that part of him which he'd too long tried to bury.
Though before it could awaken, refuse to be pushed aside as fear consumed him, a gentle hand twined around his, pulling him forward and down to the table.
Kaoru . . .
She smiled at him, unaware of his fears.
Koishii . . .
"You need to eat Kenshin."
And what could he do but nod, going through the motions she expected. As the chaos of his thoughts centered on the whys'; why was Sano leaving now. And why China, of all places, didn't he know that's where he lived. Hadn't he told him, when he found out some months ago that that's where he'd gone?
What if he followed Sano back?
He couldn't loose her again; Never. Again. Once had been hard enough he thought, gripping the chopsticks so tight, they snapped in half.
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From a distance, a young voice boomed;
Extra! Extra! Newspaper house burns to the ground. Famous reporter Takomoyo Senishi found
dead among the ruble.
Fire believed to be the work of an undercover official . . .
Government spies . . . trying to quite down rumors of a shadow . . .
Yahiko turned away, quickly shifting around the crowd gathering around the newspaper boy, as he headed back at an almost running pace back to the station. Hoping beyond hope that this sudden news had not yet reached Tokyo, for Kaoru's peace of mind, he hurried along, half dragging the stuff Tae had asked him to get. As his thoughts raced along, unable to wrap his mind around this concept everyone seemed so ready to believe. It was the government for goodness sakes. Why would they silence a reporter after the article had already been printed?
Amber flames engulf the Kunii House, unsettling Yokohama residents from a false sense of safety as . . .
Yahiko tucked the paper into his gi before mounting the train, skeptical still that it could be the government. At least not directly, he thought, it could always just be some official with a lot at stake, should Kenshin's suspicious nature be aroused.
But why he would think that, was beyond him, really. All he knew; was that as part of a privileged few, who'd lived to witness such a thing, Battousai was not someone he wanted to become personally acquainted with. He was protective—he guessed—though it might have been more than that. He didn't know. There was just something about him. Even though his gaze had never quite been directed at him, it'd still managed to infuse a sense of fear towards him. One he or any other man for that matter, would ever be likely to forget. "Poor Busu," he had no idea how she was going to deal with this sudden turn of events.
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Not much to comment, other than the obvious. I'm done with another chapter. Hooray, for winter break. This chapter, the usual twenty pages, was not so tough to write, it's the rest I am beginning to dread. Like many of the books I love, it doesn't begin to get good until chapter three or in my case, right after chapter three, either way. Let's move on.
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Small Notes: Within a glance . . . glass and mirrors can be deceiving. Just like dreams can often bear too much reality . . .
So here we are, a day after the events of the previous chapter. Coming to a start within the shadows of a dream—with Battousai fully active and aware as he'd once been . . . Reliving a memory, that has somehow twisted, into one of his greatest fears; Kaoru dying because of him . . . because her need to protect him, far out weighed her own need to live. Sound familiar yet, he's projecting the hitokiri's value of life onto the dream Kaoru. Which is not to say the real Kaoru wouldn't do the same, she is very impulsive after all. But that's beside the point, what you should've been able to pick up on, is the pattern he sees between sacrifice and love.
Also to be noted, is the fact that his dream comes real close to the memory of Tomoe dying without ever involving any of the characteristics and villains present in those memories. It is an echo, of a memory, altered by fear and the threat of a villain he can't see. He can kill him. But he still can't see him . . . which begs the question; is it merely fear that has him dreaming a faceless villain or is it someone he has sensed but has yet to put a face to?
Coming awake, we catch a glimpse of the elusive beast . . . Safely tucked away behind the mask and iron hard restraints which fear and lack of sleep have slowly begun to dent. So much it seems, it takes him a moment, to shutter his feelings back inside. A bit too slowly, as Kaoru catches tiny fragments of his true emotions, though he doesn't seem to realize that until she leans further into his caress and finally, panic rises within his chest.
Not enough though to distract him from his missing weapon, which he's more than sure he fell asleep with. It's then the unbidden feelings of mistrust arise. Though he seems to forget, that that for sometime now, he's been coming awake in strange places when he can swear he fell asleep at the dojo sometime before. So the question is; was it him or did someone really come into the dojo. And if there was someone there, does that mean that at certain times, when he thinks he feels the clammy hand of danger—there really is someone out there. Someone he can't sense.
But why would someone else need his sakabatou?
Likely first guest: frame up; secondary guess: manipulative exercise to bring Battousai forth. As for third, well . . . Kenshin; as the chapters have indicated to this point at least, Kenshin is not at all himself. Sleep depravation and lack of nourishment have taken their told on him, weakening his psyche against the tumbling emotions he's for sometime, kept at bay. So who's to say, he himself didn't leave it out there—or did something with it before coming back into the house. Kenshin, actually, as he seems to feel someone outside the compound, it's why he grabs her elbow and pulls her along, gripping the hilt of his blade in cautious defense despite still being unsure.
Kenshin is suspicious—lately a bit more rightly so as far as Sano is concerned. Though quite preoccupied with all the building problems surrounding him, he's still mindful of Sano, sensing something . . . that just doesn't sit right with the developing Kenshin personality, who feels that Sano is not just baiting him but challenging him as well. And though that part of him which is Battousai, restrained by years of fear and guilt, lying somewhere deep inside him, supposedly unaware—still manages to pick the scent off another alpha. The challenge is clear and responded to as the shadows of danger lurk just behind the purple of his dark eyes.
Sano has been warned. And for all his youth and immaturity, he gets the message loud and clear; unfortunately, a bit too late into the game. He has for sometime now, been developing feelings for a certain kenjutsu instructor. And the only way he can truly back off now, is by leaving.
To Kaoru, news of his departure comes as a sad testament of the human need to grow. Not so for Kenshin, who seems neither angry nor worried, at least, not about Sano. His one and main concern, for sometime now, has only been about her safety. Which right there should raise the flag for you; if you've seen anymore than five RK episodes, you should be very well aware of Kenshin's, better said, the rurouni's need to please Kaoru. Her happiness (after the Kyoto incident, not including ova) is the most important thing to him.
And though the feelings are there still, he's pushing them away, more insistently than before. What he fails to understand is that he's pushing away the wrong emotions. Those small bouts of anger, which were hardly, if ever glimpsed before are becoming quite more frequent. Simply put, he is welcoming more often than not, the anger and hatred he feels towards Enishi than the happiness and contentment he once found in her presence.
Worse now with rumors of assassins and the government involving themselves in a cover up—as for Yahiko, who's been absent from the dojo for most of the time lately, he's quite unexpectedly stumbled into something that could quite literally, change the way Kaoru feels . . . But only if he tells her, which he doesn't seem too keen on doing.
So now, well, only time will tell . . .
I hope that was enough, to help along those who didn't quite get some of the stuff, earlier. Same as always though, email me if you any more questions, yes. Thank you for reading. And please, don't forget to review. Ja!