Disclaimer: Everything that does not belong to me, belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki and associates (Jump Comics, Shueisha Inc. etc.) Everything that does belong to me, does not belong to you.
A/N: So sorry for the delay! I've forgotten how easily time can get gobbled up. Thanks to Rosh Hashonah, and the fact that I have no school on Jewish holidays, I managed to get this chapter out before the weekend. Yay.
Thank you so much for all your comments of last chapter. It is so gratifying to see that people are reading and are willing to give me feedback on my work. Thanks!
Anithene: It makes me so happy to hear you say that you think I'm improving. Yay. Enishi is rather glompable.
Crewel: I'm alight with joy. Haha. No really. I love seeing that people are willing to think when they read fanfiction and think about the events going on. Your insights on Sano and Megumi are not at all far from the truth. I like your interpretation. Enjoy this chapter!
ZionCross: Pretty good description of Enishi there. You and a few other people have made me feel very accomplished in my handling Megumi and Sano in the previous chapter. Yay. Ahh…"Post-Flay Allstar Syndrome" I get it now. Did you come up with that? Thanks again for reviewing. And also—you can't ride from China to Japan on a horse. Sorry. Boats are a necessity.
Sakura's Shadows: I think you guessed right. I'm so excited that you're excited. Haha. I'm happy that you are enjoying this story. Thanks!
Kie-san: Lol, don't worry about it. Sano has only been to China. He didn't go to America or Europe or anything. I'm glad you liked last chapter, and hope that you'll like this one as much. Hmm…that's a good idea about Hitomi. I'll think about that.
Cutie: Thanks! I'm glad you like it. A lot more Naruku stuff coming up…
Yuna: I like Sano and Megumi, too. I'm happy that you liked it. Glad you're happy with the pairings. Haha…Kaoru didn't really think that Misao and Soujiro were doing anything. She was just teasing.
Genki Ninjagirl: eek! Sorry! What did I do? Glad you liked it, though…
Long Island Grace: yes, you're right…Not Saitou, I promise. Ackk, sa-chan, perhaps too much for your own good. I'm pretty happy with that line too. I'm glad you appreciate it. Sano has never been the brightest crayon in the box, huh? I like your assumptions. You read into stuff a lot and that is gratifying for a writer like me. There is definitely some Naruku and Kenshin stuff in here. Ish.
Mystical Moonlady: Aww, thanks. No, Soujiro's not really going to leave Misao…they're hanging around, in love. I'm happy that you like everyone so much. Thank you for reading my fic!
One and Only: Thanks, that's so sweet. Sano is growing up. I'm selfishly happy that you think Naruku and Kenshin belong together…still a ways to go, though. Misao is gaining some insight, too. You wanted more, so here's more!
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-PART ONE-
The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing. -John Powell
Chapter Three
Weep
Kaoru had worked it out so that none of her guests would have an uncomfortable stay. Despite the recent renovations, they still had very limited sleeping quarters. Kaoru had made sure that the only people whose sleeping conditions were less than luxurious were those that were permanently staying at the dojo. Misao, Soujiro and Aoshi all got their own rooms with the nicest bed sheets and pillows. Kenshin had offered to stay in the shed and Kaoru had banished Yahiko along with him. Kaoru got the last bedroom…but she had to share it with Naruku.
And after a few weeks, that got hard. Naruku was constantly up at odd hours of the night, and then asleep at the peak of daytime. Not to mention the traumatic shock Kaoru always received when entering the room…as if she expected to see that image of Naruku on the floor, glass and blood around her. It was something she was sure would never entirely fade, the surreal ness of the scene, how almost beautifully tragic Naruku had seemed.
Kaoru shuddered and rolled over, tucking her hand beneath her and closing her eyes again. Trying to get to sleep.
But there. There it was again, the noise that had woken up Kaoru in the first place. At first she figured she'd imagined it or it was the wind, but it was coming from inside, she could tell. It was midway between a whimper and a growl, and after it was the gentle plop of some feather-light thing falling to the floor.
Kaoru made a groggy moan. "Naruku…" she sighed sleepily. "Is that you? Go to sleep."
The noise stopped and something settled onto the floor again.
"Naruku!" Now Kaoru's voice was more of an irate hiss. "What are you doing? Go back to bed, please."
There was no answer, and not a sound came from where Naruku was.
Frustrated and utterly exhausted, Kaoru sat up and lit the oil lantern beside her futon. The room brightened, however slightly, but at least Kaoru could see Naruku.
And what she saw did not make her happy.
Naruku sat at the foot of her futon, a pair of kitchen sheers held between her fingers. Between the blades was a chunk of Naruku's rust-red hair, lank and dull.
"What are you doing?" Kaoru asked, now completely awake. It did not occur to her that Naruku had not spoken a word in weeks and probably would not spare any to explain her irrational decision to cut her hair in the middle of the night.
Naruku's response was to close the scissors around the chunk of hair, letting most of it fall to the floor.
"Naruku, stop!"
She had unevenly cut more than half of her hair already and Kaoru couldn't bear to see any more of that beautiful copper hair fall to the floor. Naruku's eyes looked so lifeless, so unaware as she snipped away.
But soon the scissors clattered to the floor and Naruku buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she moaned, her sobs somewhat stifled.
Kaoru shook her head and crawled over to where her friend sat, surrounded by her long hair.
Kaoru reached up and took one of Naruku's hands in her own, jerking it away from Naruku's face.
The disheveled girl looked up at Kaoru, and her eyes showed more recognition than they had for weeks. Kaoru felt like Naruku really saw her, saw that she was trying to help, saw that she needed help.
Kaoru put an arm gingerly around her friend, scooting herself closer.
Naruku choked and sobbed freely, not even trying to stop the flow of tears down her cheeks.
"I didn't…I don't want…" Her eyes closed and holt salty tears outlines the lids before falling to the ground, splashing amongst red locks of hair. "I don't want to be this way Kaoru…"
"Shh…" Kaoru said soothingly. "I know. It's not your fault."
For some reason, this sent Naruku into fresh sobs. She was crying hard, her face distorted in sadness. Her eyes and nose started to clog up because of the tears, but still she sobbed.
"It's okay, Naruku, you can cry. You don't have to pretend, not for me. Not for anyone."
She felt the jerking motions of Naruku's head as the other girl nodded.
"You did wrong, Naruku, and you know that. But you can make it right."
Naruku didn't venture to respond this time, but listened carefully to Kaoru's words as more tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Come on," Kaoru continued in soft tones. "Let's get your hair all fixed up before morning, okay? Maybe we can do something special tomorrow, like go out for shaved ice. It's okay to feel sad, Naruku, but just know that there are ways to feel happy again. You've got us."
Naruku slowly moved apart from Kaoru, not even bothering to dry her eyes as the tears started to slow. She turned around so her back was facing Kaoru.
The raven-haired girl picked up the kitchen sheers and smoothed the hair running down Naruku's back. She was careful and meticulous in her work, snipping cleanly and thoroughly to be sure that the length would be smooth. She watched the old, knotted hair fall to the ground.
When she had finished, the oil lamp had almost completely burned out, but Kaoru scooped up the fallen hair and stepped out to throw it away, leaving Naruku in the increasingly darkening room.
Naruku sniffled and ran a hand through her short hair. It now fell only to her shoulders. She felt as though a great weight had been lifted, but in a way she almost missed the weight.
But she also felt a little less sad; like that maybe since she could manage her hair now, she could manage a number of other things. Perhaps the coming day would bring her what she had been waiting for—whatever that was.
She ran a hand through her hair again.
Patience, confidence. A way to put herself back together.
Sano had discovered more in his short trek to Shanghai's port than he had in his entire journey thus far. He had realized things that made him all too happy to return to Japan, things that made him believe things he hadn't before, see things he had overlooked.
One of the things he continued to overlook, however, was his state of impoverishment. Namely, the fact that he was broke and had no feasible way of returning to Japan.
He whistled in low tones and slumped his shoulders, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible as he approached an official-looking man who was patrolling up and down a linked fence.
"You, uh—speak any Japanese?"
The guard, or at least that's what Sano presumed he was, looked at Sano with an expression of intense dislike and distrust. Sano was taken aback. He hadn't done anything! He shuffled his feet nervously.
The guard grunted haughtily and turned away, spitting on the ground as he went.
Sano blinked at this apparent rudeness. Damn. He needed to get on that boat! How?
Sano sighed. He had no solution. Drawing himself in he ambled over to a stack of crates and barrels on the dock. He sat down lazily on one of the barrels, exhaling slowly.
"Ow," he said to himself. Something was digging into his back where he sat. He turned and saw a silver something was wedged between two crates behind him.
Groaning, Sano tugged on it, dislodging it from the crate. It popped out suddenly, sending Sano stumbling backward.
"Kuso!" Sano exclaimed, looking at what he had just extracted from the crate. "How did this get there?"
Held gingerly in his hand was a silver handheld revolver.
The guard he had encountered before was looking right at the source of Sano's commotion. He immediately held his hands up in a fearful fashion and widened his eyes.
"What?" Sano practically shouted, putting his arms up as well. The gun in his hand was now pointing back at the boat he wanted to get on.
The guard was now frantic. He kept fervently shaking his head, looking more scared out of his wits by the second. It was then that Sano realized the guard thought he was being threatened! He thought that Sano was intentionally pointing the gun at a ship full of innocent bystanders.
Sano struggled for a way to explain, but gave up when the guard hastily went around him to stand between Sano and the boat, making wild gestures with his hands.
Sano smiled. "Will you let me on if I give you this?" he said slowly, lowering the gun and extending it in (hopefully) a non-aggressive way.
The guard stopped waving his arms and stared at Sano.
Sano pointed purposefully at himself and then at the boat. Finally he jiggled the hand with the gun in it and showed himself lowering it.
The guard understood. He nodded briskly.
Sano set the gun on the floor and slid it off to the side. It lay harmlessly in front of the crates and barrels.
Sano made his way toward the boat and ignored the glare he received from the guard as he passed.
Sano was just congratulation himself on making a misunderstanding into a useful situation when he was cornered by a fat cook in a stained apron and was handed a giant wok and spoon. He would not be getting to Japan free of labor.
Naruku sat on the porch, her knees tucked below her neatly. She heard the distant call of wind chimes, but did not answer. She was not alone, either.
In front of her was Kaoru, looking steadily forward into Naruku's eyes, as if trying to figure something out. Beside Kaoru sat Aoshi, as calm and stoic as ever.
Naruku closed her eyes for a moment, letting her short hair dislodge itself from behind her ear, falling instead like a curtain around her cheek.
"Naruku, we're just—" Kaoru swallowed, trying to find the most cautious way to say it. "Worried about you, is all."
Though he seemed deep in the throes of meditation, Aoshi nodded to Kaoru's words.
Naruku titled her head, aiming her gaze right past Kaoru to the nondescript scenery behind her. "Who is?" she said at last.
"We all are," Kaoru replied immediately. "Kenshin, too. Especially Kenshin."
Naruku lowered her eyes. "He hates me."
Kaoru was on her feet instantly. "He does not hate you, Naruku, why would you even say that?" she tried to assure Naruku furtively, pacing back and forth.
"Because," Naruku said in a stubbornly sulky tone. "I killed someone. No, not just that—I killed someone I hated. We both hated him."
Kaoru threw up her hands. She was tired of tiptoeing around Naruku. She was going to say what she wanted. It wouldn't break Naruku. "What does that matter? It's in the past, Naruku. It's been weeks."
"Weeks, but not years," Naruku cut in.
"Who cares? Who's keeping count? It doesn't matter how long it's been, Naruku, it doesn't even matter at all!"
"But don't you see?" Naruku exclaimed, locking her eyes with Kaoru's for the first time since the conversation had begun. "I killed someone. Me. Kenshin taught me Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu to save lives—not to take them. He counted on me as a pupil and as his friend to uphold his beliefs. And I didn't. How would you feel if your students committed murder? It's happened to you once before, hasn't it? And it was your disgrace. Your values that suffered. You probably felt shame, didn't you?"
Kaoru did not have much to say to this. Not only was it the longest thing Naruku had said in weeks, but also it proved how deep her problem went, how precarious the situation was. Naruku clearly was reading into her actions more than Kaoru had been. More than anyone, probably, including Kenshin. It was as if Naruku had finally ripped off the bandage to show the scar underneath.
"Do you think Himura feels this way?" Aoshi said quietly, intervening between the two women.
Naruku became downcast again and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "Yes… I don't know."
"Choose one," Aoshi said, a little bit severely in Kaoru's opinion.
Naruku gulped and started to nod her head. "Any way you look at it…I let him down. And if he hates me for that…"
"For god's sake Naruku, he does not hate you!"
"Well then…what?"
Did she have to be so doggedly clueless? It was infuriating, it really was.
"Well then you should talk to him, maybe, now that you're ready to talk to us. Well then maybe you could find out yourself how he feels about this. If you want to know the truth, Kenshin has been as sequestered as you have…nearly."
"I don't know, Kaoru…I can't be the person he wants me to be. Not anymore."
"He doesn't want you to be anything!" Kaoru exclaimed. "He just wants you back, Naruku, I'm sure of it. If you just talk to him…"
Naruku shook her head. "I can't. I can't. It's like I've been lying to him."
"About what?" Kaoru said skeptically. The second Naruku started keeping the truth from Kenshin again was the same second that the word was ending.
But she never did end up getting Naruku's answer.
"Naruku, it may not be you who's lying. Part of the reason you and Himura can't reach each other is because he is guilty."
"Guilty?" both Naruku and Kaoru asked with some disbelief.
Naruku blinked and started shaking her head. "No, Aoshi. Kenshin isn't like that. He isn't like you. He wouldn't look at this and see it as his fault, the way you say the Oniwabanshuu's death as yours."
"You're wrong. That's exactly what Himura would do," Aoshi countered.
Naruku took in breath and realized Aoshi was completely correct.
"But it goes even further than that," Aoshi went on.
Now both Naruku and Kaoru were listening anxiously with a keen ear.
"Himura claimed to be teaching you Hiten Mitsurugi, did he not? From my observances, and my experience, that is not the truth. In actuality, Himura is teaching you a set of kata and training techniques that all swordsmanship is derived from."
Naruku was taken aback. She did not know what to say, but searched for a way to refute Aoshi's apparent discovery. "But—but the…the Ryusosen he taught me—he taught me that…"
"What he taught you is an attack with faintest semblance to a Hiten Mitsurugi technique. It is but a phantom of Hiten Mitsurugi that he has been teaching you."
"What…what are you saying?" Naruku closed her eyes and shook her head. It couldn't be true…could it? "That there is no such thing as Hiten Mitsurugi katsujin-ken? That he was lying to me?"
Aoshi bowed his head.
Naruku glanced over at Kaoru, who had her mouth open in surprise. She was suddenly disgusted with herself, and with Kenshin. How could he? How could she?
She shook her head, ignoring the tears that sprung from her eyes and began to fall. "I need…I need to be alone. Please. I'm tired," she rasped out.
Aoshi and Kaoru quietly stood up.
"I understand," Kaoru said softly, squeezing Naruku's hand. Then she followed Aoshi through the front door that led inside.
Naruku titled her head back and sprawled herself on the ground, her emotions overcoming her. All this time…she thought she had disgraced Kenshin. When, in truth, she had disgraced no one but herself.
Here he was at Shinbashi station, ready to give the girl of his dreams a surprise of a lifetime. He had made his way across the Japanese sea and finally to Yokohama harbor. A train had taken him from Yokohama to Shinbashi. Was he still afraid of trains? Hell yes, but it didn't matter in the face of something so much bigger.
Sano inhaled the afternoon air and made his way past the station, through Asakusa district. If there was one place he could get to in the dark, in his sleep, it would be the clinic. More than his own home—perhaps even more than the dojo, Sano could always pinpoint exactly how to get to Megumi's clinic. It was as if his sense of direction, normally so utterly defected, somehow aligned itself in light of finding Megumi, of tracing her steps.
And there it was. Sano felt himself subconsciously holding his breath. The same building, the same plants lying idle outside. He had reached the clinic.
Without further ado, Sano ambled up to the front door and let himself in.
"Yes, can I help you?"
He heard the pitter-patter of footsteps as someone rushed into the main room where Sano stood.
Megumi stopped in her tracks, her mouth falling open.
"I'm home, Megumi." He said simply, a small smile on his face.
"Damn right you are."
Whatever he had been expecting, it was not that. The smile dropped off his face. "Megumi?"
"What? Oh, I'm sorry, did you expect me to rush into arms now that you've returned Sanosuke?"
Sano was stunned. "Um…Megumi, I just want to—"
"You know what, never mind. If you expect me to wait patiently every time you have the urge to go somewhere, see something, then you've got another think coming. There is no way I am going to welcome you with open arms after this, Sano."
"Megumi!" he said indignantly. "I'm telling you, I'm back now, I love you. I want to be with you."
"You have a very funny way of showing it. You have to stop running away, Sano," she said, her voice softening. "You have to grow up."
"I am! I have, I mean," Sano ran a hand through his hair. Despite her nasty words, there was nothing in the world Sano wanted more than to kiss Megumi right then. His muscles ached with desire and he found himself gritting his teeth and clenching his fists to stop his lips from finding hers.
"Maybe you have," Megumi said. "But I couldn't know. That's what you said last time. I can't be hurt like this again."
"You won't be! I won't leave again, Megumi, I can't."
"And I can't believe you didn't even tell me you were leaving. How can you expect me to accept you?"
"Because I love you," Sano said again.
"Not good enough," Megumi replied. "Please leave."
When she started backing him through the door again, Sano turned around. "I'm sorry Megumi," he said as she was shutting the door behind him. "I'll prove to you that you can count on me."
He glanced back at the clinic, a forlorn expression on his face. Then he turned and began his way back home to lonely Ruffian's row.
Unbeknownst to Sano, Megumi was sitting inside of the clinic with her back to the door, fighting back tears.
Outa came shuffling in and Megumi gestured for him to sit next to her. He sat down.
"Oh, Outa," Megumi sniffled. "What am I going to do with your brother? How can I trust him again?"
Outa smiled cherubically. "It will be okay Megumi-san. You love him and…he loves you. So it has to work out, right?"
He said it with such childish simplicity, but some how the naivety comforted Megumi.
She smiled genuinely and laughed through her tears. "You must be right, Outa."
Weep--End
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A/N: For the record, this chapter did not go how I had planned at all. Wow. I like the end result, though and I'm happy I was able to go with my train of thoughts on this one. Finding time is getting hard, but I'll do it! I swear.
I know a lot of you are disappointed with the absence of a certain Jinchuu arc character, but let me just say that last chapter was not the last you'll see of him. He's introduced in that chapter, but he doesn't surface as a main character until a bit later. So have faith!
Next chapter will be the confrontation you may have been waiting for, plus some more Megumi/Sano stuff. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a review!
By the way, the RKRC awards are now closed for nominations. Voting begins October 8th so get ready!