A/N: …Ahem…well, I've been gone a while, I know. Please don't hurt me. I haven't been sick or on vacation or anything of the sort. I've just been consumed by school. Christmas break was the recuperation period. Such a shame it couldn't last longer. Anyway, this is my latest offering to you, the masses. Mostly I'm posting because no one else is. looks hopelessly at most favorite authors and their un-updated stories Anyway, this is probably going to remain a fic with T rating for blood sucking vampires now and innuendo a bit later. Without further ado, on with the show.

Eternity in a Grain of Sand

Chapter 1

The pain was unbearable, so consuming his mind could think of nothing around it. Each breath burned through his torso as though white-hot irons were wrapped around his ribs. He could feel the sickening sensation of his life's blood trickling oh-so-slowly out of the wound just beneath his ribcage. The warmth of the blood contrasted sharply with his freezing skin. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and give in to the peaceful oblivion of unconsciousness, but the will to survive was imprinted on his mind as clearly as the instinct to breathe.

Sluggishly, he turned his head to the side in hopes of finding something to concentrate on other than the blinding pain. Night had fallen some time ago. The moon was between its phase of darkness and the first quarter. It's ghostly light gilded the battlefield in silver, giving the entire scene the sense of an ethereal dream. He took in details as only one in a dream can take in such minute characteristics—with utter detachment.

A stand of fir trees stood shadowy sentinel over the fallen. As far as the eye could see, bodies were strewn. The night and the cold softened their pallor and cloying stench, but death still clung to the insides of his nostrils and coated his tongue. Not five feet from where he had fallen, he could see one of his fellow manslayers, glassy eyes staring and unfocused. The man's blood ran in a river from his body to join Kenshin's own blood. He could just make out the tiny river as it flowed past his face, trailing through his red hair so that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.

A feather light touch on his cheek made his head jerk. His vision went white as the sudden spasm stretched the terrible wound and ripped more flesh apart. When his vision cleared, he vaguely wondered where the moon had gone. There still seemed to be stars in the sky, yet they were moving, dancing among each other. Another touch on his nose surprised him, but he lacked the strength to even move now. At long last his mind comprehended what was happening—it was snowing.

In spite of everything, the cold, the snow, the blood, the pain, Kenshin smiled. It was only fitting after all. Once he had made the snow bleed with another's blood. It was only fitting that now the snow would bleed with his blood. He closed his eyes, allowing his head to slowly tilt to the side again. Almost languorously, his eyes opened, half-lidded and glassy.

There was a white light in the distance. Were they searching for survivors? Kenshin did not even know who had won the battle. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it, knowing that he would not be heard because he could not even draw enough breath to support his voice. The light came closer. It was white and silvery, not unlike the light the moon had been casting earlier.

Moment by moment, Kenshin's eyes focused on what approached him. When he finally comprehended what approached, the smile formed on his lips again. At long last, it was his time to leave this world for approaching him was a maiden clothed in a white kimono that seemed to glow with its own light. Her hands were tucked in her sleeves and she walked barefoot with stately, elegant steps. Her face was pale, almost as white as the kimono she wore. Its fine bones and elegant lines were accented by long black hair, pulled back into a horsetail. His breath stopped when her eyes swiveled and met his.

She began to approach and all Kenshin could do was stare into her eyes. They were a clear crystalline blue that reminded him slightly of the glaze on fine china. But where glaze was flat and contained only in a simple layer, her eyes were bottomless and ancient. Her gaze contained eternity in a grain of sand, infinity in a shard of glass. In that gaze, he drowned and the blanket of unconsciousness at last took him, a willing prisoner.

The woman continued to walk towards him, aware that his own exhaustion had overcome him, if only for a moment. She knelt beside him, uncaring that her feet and kimono now rested in a pool of blood, slowly freezing on the barren ground. Gently, she touched his cheek, tracing the bright scar etched in the flesh. He was so very young.

She did not jump when he grabbed her wrist, did not even act as though he had startled her. Slowly, the eyes that had first captivated her opened. His gaze was golden, as brilliant as the harvest moon and as tortured as a condemned soul. His mouth opened and moved, but even so near she could hardly make out the words.

"Please, tenshi, I am ready."

She met his eyes and understood what he expected. With gravity and bearing beyond anything Kenshin had ever seen before, she nodded. Her arms slid beneath him, cradling him against her like a child. She was chill, her body radiating a heat only fractionally warmer than the air around them. He curled into her anyway, again slipping into a land of peaceful black.

With deliberate purpose, Kaoru carried the young soldier off the battlefield.

oOoOoOoOo

Kaoru watched the young soldier, whom she'd spread out on her simple futon. Here in this cottage in the woods, they were far from the war that had so injured him. He hadn't woken the entire time she'd carried his slim body. She guessed that standing, he'd only be marginally taller than she.

She'd lit a single candle, but it flickered wildly in the draft of the house, a constant breeze she had ceased to notice. Its sporadic light threw shadows over the sharp handsome features of his face and made the scar on his cheek seem almost black against his parchment-white skin. If he were not dying of blood-loss, she could easily imagine a beautiful sun-kissed gold in place of the deathly pallor.

His breathing was shallow, so soft that his chest did not even rise with each intake. His heartbeat was so slow in her ears. Slowly, she removed the blood soaked gi to look at his wounds. With the cloth removed, brilliant red flowered across his skin, enticing her with its rich coppery scent. Kaoru turned her head away as she felt fangs slip out and press at her lips.

It was so very foolish. Had she not come to the battlefield in search of souls too far gone to be saved? Why did she not want to harm this human, this creature whose guttering life force was what first called to her? Her control returned in tiny increments as she slowly turned back to look at his face. The scar attracted her attention once again.

It was in the shape of a cross, adding to his already unusual features. While the wound itself seemed old, the color was still a brilliant red, as though freshly inflicted. She reached out fingers and traced the strong lines. Through them, she perceived pain beyond anything she'd ever felt before. Perhaps this was why she was reluctant to end his life; he'd already suffered more than was necessary, especially for a mere mortal.

As Kaoru withdrew her fingers, his eyes opened. She detected disorientation as he gazed up at her. His arm moved, reaching for something, but even that movement was beyond him. His eyes squeezed shut in pain, but she heard not even a whimper. When he was able, he opened his eyes again and looked down at the gaping wound and his own life's blood.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?"

She looked down at the wound. It had not pierced any vital organs, though she imagined his diaphragm was rent. It was probably very painful to breathe. However, he had lost so very much blood.

"I do not know, young soldier. However, I will do all in my power to save you if that is what you desire."

She reached for a bowl of water which she'd already strained antiseptic plants through. Quietly and with not a hint of disgust, she cleaned his wound, washing away the blood her body was crying for. When the wound was clean, she retrieved a needle and thread steeped in alcohol. With utter patience and careful fingers, she began to stitch the wound closed.

The man closed his eyes, laying back and clenching his hands into fists repeatedly. She imagined it gave him something else to concentrate on. When the wound was closed, he opened his eyes again, slowly exhaling in a manner that was most likely painful. Kaoru lifted a bottle of sake and turned to him.

"This will sting, young one," she told him softly. He only nodded and breathed again. She tipped the sake over the wound, recleaning the edges and washing away the oils her hands had left behind.

Kenshin opened his eyes to watch as she disposed of his gi and the implements she'd used to aid him. He could feel unconsciousness hovering on the edge of his mind, waiting to drown him. But he fought the healing sleep with all his might.

"Why do you aid me, tenshi?"

She smiled softly at the name he'd dubbed her with. It was so very ironic that he would call her an angel—she who had intended to kill him until she'd met his eyes.

"Because you have suffered enough."

His eyes widened in surprise at her answer, but his face remained impassive. He slowly tilted his head about and searched the room, though for what she couldn't know.

"My swords," he said, "where are they?"

She blinked momentarily before saying, "They are sitting on my clothes chest. Why?"

"Please, put them next to me."

She stood slowly, watching him all the while as she retrieved the blades. As she placed them under his hand, she said, "You are a hitokiri, then." She was not asking.

"Hai."

"I've heard whispers about you. You are the one they call Battousai. The man they say is a demon."

He made a guttural sound that she imagined might have been a laugh if he'd had the air for it. "I am he. However, you should not believe everything you hear."

"They say you are unbeatable."

"Does not the wound prove otherwise?"

"Who wounded you?"

Kenshin thought back to the battle, trying to remember through the haze of desperation and screams and bloodlust. He'd been fighting a member of the Shinsengumi. There'd been a wide clearing around them, men avoiding the battle in order to insure their own lives for a little longer. It had been unspoken that once the Battousai and the Wolf engaged, no one was to interfere with their battle.

But Saitoh had not been the one to wound him. No…that had been a foot soldier who had ignored the unspoken rule. Kenshin had felt his ki approaching and maneuvered to put the Wolf between himself and the fool who dared to interfere in their fight. But the fool had not been alone. There had been another, one who was skilled enough to hide his ki. The foot soldier had only been a distraction. The other, the one with mad eyes and a rictus grin, had been the one to score this blow. Saitoh had killed them both after Kenshin fell.

"I don't know who he was, just that he was insane and obsessed with the kill."

She nodded, understanding the desire for blood that could grow so strong that it became a sickness. She had seen too many of her own kind fall under the strain of the obsession.

"Tell me, tenshi, do you truly think that I might live."

"I do not know, young one. You lost a great deal of blood and there is always the possibility of infection. Only time will tell know."

"What will you do if I die?"

"I will cremate your body and spread your ashes at the top of the mountain. It is the least I can do."

"You owe me nothing."

"No, but the country owes you a great deal. They are saying the Ishin Shishi would not have won the battle if the Battousai had not felled at least one hundred men on his own."

"They exaggerate."

"Perhaps…but perhaps, young soldier, you underestimate yourself. Having a legend on your side can have amazing effects on the rest of your soldiers."

"The Wolf is as much a legend as myself."

"Yes, but the Shinsengumi have more than just the Wolf. You are one man and thus have no one else but yourself to blame if you fail. If the Shinsengumi fails, that reflects on Saitoh's reputation, whether he was part of the failure or not."

Kenshin was silent for a long while. "What is your name, tenshi?"

Kaoru glanced at him before turning towards the door. She had not hunted yet and the scent of this man's blood was becoming too much for even her control. "My name, young one, is Kaoru."

He was asleep by the time she'd walked out the door.

oOoOoOoOo

Kaoru's forehead furrowed in a rare show of worry. She'd returned from her hunt, having found a suitable grave robber whom she had no quandaries about killing. However, in the short time she'd been gone, Kenshin had developed a fever. He thrashed in his sleep and several times she'd had to subdue him to keep him from hurting himself. Every time she touched him, his skin burned abnormally hot under her fingers.

She built up a fire and stuffed blankets in the cracks of her home, shutting out the bitter winter wind. A blizzard now howled around them, crying its fury at the cruelty of men, or perhaps the cruelty of Kaoru's kind…or maybe it simply just cried for them all. She covered Kenshin with every blanket she owned, hoping to sweat out his fever until she could give him willowbark tea to ease the burning.

Many hours passed as she watched over his fitful sleep and changed his bandages. It was daylight now, but she could not tell what time exactly because the blizzard still raged outdoors. She was feeding the fire when Kenshin suddenly woke with a gasp. Quickly she snatched the water she'd been keeping warm specifically for him.

He tried to sit up as she approached, but his wound stopped him. She added the willowbark to the water and waited for it to steep as she knelt beside him.

"You should not move yet, young one. Your wounds are by no means well."

He tried to say something, but was too parched to make the words come. She poured a cup of tea and waited, allowing it cool enough to drink. He took the cup with a shaking hand and sipped, trying not to drink too quickly. The tea soothed his throat and helped his tongue lose some of the thickness it had gained during the fever.

"You're very ill," Kaoru told him as he drank. "The fever has been burning in you for almost a day. It's dangerously high."

He finished the tea and handed the cup back to her, a silent plea for more. When he tried to speak this time, the words came, though they were rough and quiet.

"I'm dying," he said—it was not a question.

Kaoru looked at him a long time before nodding. "You are. You might have lived if the fever hadn't set in, but as it is, you haven't had nearly enough time to recover the blood you lost in order to fight the infection."

She gave him another cup of tea, which he took with surprising calm. The idea of dying was not fearful to him. He dealt with death every day. What he truly feared was what awaited him after death.

Kaoru took a deep breath and set the tea pot aside. "I told you," she said slowly, "that I would do everything in my power to save you. There is still something in my power that I can do. But first I must know, and you must answer me honestly, do you want to live?"

Kenshin looked up into her eyes, the depths swallowing him whole. He thought long about her question. There had been so many lives that he had taken. Unbidden, the memory of snow and the scent of plum blossoms came to him. He deserved to die for all the crimes he'd committed. And yet…

He spoke, "There is part of me that says it is my time. I've already escaped death too many times, and this would be one too many. I hardly deserve the life I have. But I've been fighting for my life since I was born. The will to live is strong…is an instinct to me. I can't ignore it as well."

He stopped for a moment, aware that he might regret either decision the moment he gave it. "So to answer your question Kaoru, yes, I want to live." And so, he condemned himself.

oOoOoOoOo

Present day, San Francisco, United States

Kenshin scanned the party with disdain. Half of the attendees were drunk on cheap wine and the other half were drunk on blood. Why he had agreed to come to this particular party when he'd turned down every other invitation was beyond him. These people were not ones that interested. They crossed the thresh hold of life because of their obsession with blood and death, not out of necessity.

He touched the hilt of the sword at his side, seeking what little comfort it gave him. So many years had gone by since he'd last had to use it in defense. He had a new responsibility now, and the reputation of that responsibility had garnered him fear and respect in the twisted underworld.

Since the middle of the twentieth century, just after World War II, vampires had been migrating to the Americas at alarming rates. With the increase of fangs in the New World, human attentions quickly became a problem. Too many young vamps did not have the control they needed with so many innocent humans about. Authorities had started asking questions in the right places, wondering if perhaps the Old World was a little less silly in their ancient beliefs.

The Blood Council, rulers of the vampire world, had approached Kenshin personally and asked if he would take on the job of eliminating the vampires that endangered their shadowy society. He'd agreed whole-heartedly, understanding that the creatures he'd be destroying were anything but sentient. He had yet to come across a loose vamp that could fully comprehend the nature of what it had done, the numerous human lives it had taken.

And now, on a short break, he'd found his way to the West Coast in hopes that he could loosen up a little, could relax off the guard he'd built to deal with the dark politics that surrounded him. His vacation was having no such effect. Instead of seeing a room full of potential friends and lovers, he saw only room of vampires and their servants who could, at any moment, turn on him and eliminate that which they feared. It had been such a mistake to come.

He turned from the main room into the small area where drinks were being served. Among numerous bottles of wine and other stronger drinks were several decanters full of fresh blood. His meal tonight would not come from a living being. He poured himself a glass of blood three-quarters full and then added a small bit of sake to it. American alcohol was something he'd never acquired a taste for.

Slowly, he turned back to the revelers, golden eyes piercing through the shadows. A flash of raven's wing hair caught his eye and he froze. It couldn't be! He'd been told by someone he trusted that she was dead. Had been slaughtered by one of the corrupt members of the Blood Council. She was not supposed to be alive.

Kenshin began pushing through the crowd, keeping his eye on the head of long black hair and the smooth curve of one cheekbone. As though sensing his approach, she turned slightly and he saw the rest of her face. It really was her—the same glinting blue eyes that could swallow him whole were slowly glancing over the other attendees.

Then she turned fully and saw him. Just as he had, she seemed to freeze for a moment before turning again and slipping through the people around her. He followed her as quickly as courtesy called for, earning several disapproving glares and sharp words from the vampires around him until they realized who he was. They shrank away from him, clearing a path that allowed him to reach her that much faster.

By the time he'd caught her, they'd left the house for the open-air balcony. She had been caught between two male vamps, only freshly turned and too stupid to realize how powerful she was. They were cornering her against a wall and he could see her fangs bared in anger. He approached the men quietly and quickly, touching each of them on a shoulder as soon as he was close enough to.

The males turned, quite ready to attack whoever was intruding on their fun. Then they realized who he was. He almost smirked as the scrambled away from him.

"Sorry, man," one stuttered, "We didn't realize she was yours."

His eyes narrowed fractionally. "She is no one's. However, you seem to be too foolish to realize that. Shall I teach you a lesson?" he asked as his hand dropped casually on his sword hilt. They set a land speed record in their attempt to get away from him.

He turned towards her, not bothered with the fools. She stared up at him with blank face and hooded eyes, but he could sense her wariness. Her beauty had not left her in the hundred or so years since they'd parted ways. Her face was still statuesque and noble, her eyes still strong, her body still lithe and shapely.

"Hello, Kenshin," she said softly. The simple black dress she wore fluttered in the wind, the feathery material molding to her body.

"Hello, Kaoru."

oOoOoOoOo

Kaoru stared up at him and hid her anger. Why did he have to show up now, just as she was ready to wash her hands clean of him for good, no matter how it rent her? Why did he have to stand there in the moonlight and look down at her with such fire?

She backed away from him a few feet to give herself space to gather composure, but he followed her retreat step for step. He had been the one to leave. He had been the one who never bothered to try and find her again. Why was he following her?

"It's been a long time," she stated, trying desperately to keep the bite of anger from her voice.

"It has."

She found herself at a loss and turned outward, to face the sea. It was gilded silver in the light of the moon, waves rolling languorously up the side of the beach. He moved to stand next to her, closer than she was comfortable with.

"I thought you were dead," he said softly.

She snorted. He had never been one to dance around his words. "You were supposed to think that. I worked damn hard to disappear."

"Then why are you here now?"

She did not answer. He hazarded a glance to his side and saw that her eyes were distant, trained on a point and thought that he could not sense. After several long moments, she turned to him and met his eyes. What she saw there was not something she wanted to acknowledge. She nodded to him slightly and whispered, "Goodbye, Battousai." The title on her lips stung him like a wicked wasp, drawing a wealth of pain to the surface at her blatant chill.

His eyes remained trained on her as she slid easily through the crowd. They did not part for her as they had for him, but none dared touch her. Only then did Kenshin feel her power, expanding out from her like a fell cloud and warding away those around her. Without hesitation, he followed her.

oOoOoOoOo

Kaoru walked alone with her memories. How could so much have changed in less than 150 years? How could she have changed so much in 150 years, when the previous thousand years combined hadn't even touched her appearance, let alone her mind? Unbidden, her thoughts swamped her.

They had been living together for almost twenty years now, long enough to see the turn of the century. When the change had freed him of his fever, he had had no regrets, something that amazed her to no end. How could someone have no regrets about becoming a creature who lived off the life of others, no better than a parasite? Then she'd learned more about him, about what he had been and what he'd become. Only then had she finally understood. He'd been a monster long before she came along. This was his chance at redemption.

But of late, he'd changed. He'd become reclusive, hiding behind his curtain of red bangs when he couldn't escape her presence. He would go off for long periods without telling her where he would be. She was no longer his mentor in the underworld, not by any means, but that did not exempt her from worrying about him.

Then they'd had to flee Japan, his homeland and her home for the last five hundred years. They sought freedom in the ambiguity the West Coast of the United States offered. Who would notice two more immigrants in a land already flooded with foreigners? But someone had noticed.

Kaoru could still remember when she'd had to face Saitoh Hajime for the first time in six hundred years. The man had barged into her home late in the summer of 1906 and demanded she return to the Blood Council. She had flat out refused every order and threat, knowing well that there was nothing Saitoh could do to her. She surpassed him in both age and power. But then Kenshin had interfered.

He'd arrived home at the worst possible moment, just as Saitoh was shouting at her about the innumerable human lives she refused to save simply because of her own selfishness. Kenshin, once he'd lost his shock at seeing one of his old enemies of the Bakumatsu, had scared Saitoh off, but not before she saw the whisper of a doubt in his eyes.

It had been many months before he confronted her about his concerns, long after the great earthquake had driven them into the desolate plains of the Midwest. The argument that had ensued was nothing short of a war. It had ended when he stormed out, declaring that she might be too much of a coward to save lives, but he was not.

It had been the last time she had seen him personally, though rumors reached her every now and then of a red-haired, golden-eyed demon who was bringing justice to the corrupt vampire world.

Kaoru sighed as she turned down a random street. They had never understood, neither Kenshin nor Saitoh. When she had sat on the Council before, she had made no difference, despite being one of the oldest most powerful vampires. Her comments and orders went unnoticed by vampires more concerned in their own interests than the survival of the vampire community. Saitoh had been one of the few vampires who thought otherwise, but he was also a great deal older than many of the other Council members.

She could not now return to a Council that had destroyed her to begin with. The name of Kamiya Kaoru used to immediately garner respect in the underworld. No one ever uttered it in vain. The Council had destroyed that, ruining her reputation when one of their members broke her, raped her mind and left her bloody and dying in a distant corner of Africa. If Kaoru had not been so close to her homeland she would have died.

As it was, her recovery was long and painful. By the time she returned to the more civilized parts of the world, her name had become synonymous with failure. How could a vampire older than Christianity be killed by some young upstart? In shame, she had slinked to Japan and hidden there until she found Kenshin.

And now she was alone in the world, a shell of a woman, drifting through the nights and flickering like a guttering candle. Kaoru reached the destination she'd been unconsciously aiming for. This bridge held many memories. She and Kenshin had once stood here, underneath the light of a waning moon. He had kissed her and for the first time in four hundred years, she'd thought that perhaps her life was worth living again. And then, Saitoh had arrived the very next night, destroying that small hope as efficiently as he dealt with anyone that opposed him.

Kaoru leaned against the railing and stared down into the black waters of San Francisco Bay. She felt hypnotized and found herself leaning out further. What would happen, if she simply fell? Would anyone notice…or even care? Would the fall kill her?

She shook her head and leaned further forward, a small bitter smile alighting on her lips. The fall would not kill her. She would not drown. The sun did not burn her flesh as so many old tales claimed. No…for her there was no end.

Softly she sighed, even as he felt his presence come closer. "Hello again, Kenshin."

oOoOoOoOo

When she acknowledged him, he emerged fully from the shadows. He'd somehow known she would sense him. He moved to casually lean next to her against the rail. The memories of this bridge were not lost on him. He thought back briefly on that single kiss between them, before everything had shattered. That night, he'd thought himself lucky to be with her. His image of her had been naïve—a vision of a pure angel of darkness, untouched by the evils of the world around him. The night after, he learned that even she was not clean of blood.

"What were you doing?" he asked softly.

She answered truthfully. "I was wondering if the fall would kill me."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, though the rest of his face remained impassive. Suicide? What could possibly be so horrible that she wanted to end her life in this world? He almost asked her, but instead, picked a different, subtler question.

"And what if it could?"

She smiled in a way that conveyed no humor. "Perhaps the world would be a little better then."

Kenshin bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at her. Instead, he drew the anger into his words and hoped that the burning emotion stung her as much as it did him. "It would not be better. Death never makes the world a better place. Your suicide would accomplish nothing."

"So says the merchant of death."

The anger subsided only slightly before doubling, taking the small amount of shame she'd made him feel and feeding it to his inner fire. "And what would you know? You who cause death simply by your inaction."

"I am not the ruler of the Council and they are not my responsibility. I did my duty and no one listened. Now they may pay the price."

Kenshin stared at her with rage seething beneath the surface veiled only by a thin layer of shock. This was not the Kaoru her remembered so vividly, the woman who had once thrown his umbrella into a trash can simply so she could dance in the rain. When had she become the shell that stood before him?

Through clenched teeth he asked, "And what would your suicide accomplish for you?"

"The means to an end."

He clenched his fist tightly in an effort to keep from grabbing her shoulder and shaking her. "Why would you want to end your life? Why would you throw it away so carelessly when there are hundreds of thousands who would sell their soul to have what you have?"

This time, her smile was mocking. "You are so very young, Kenshin," she murmured before speaking a little louder. "Do you have any idea how old I am?"

The question caught him so off guard that all he could do was shake his head.

She turned away from him, back to the oceans. "I lived to see the shogunate destroyed. I was there to witness the rebirth of Europe from the Dark Ages. I witnessed Charlamegne conquer Europe. I saw the fall of the mighty Romans. I lived before anyone had ever heard of a prophet named Christ. I sat under the scorching sands of Egypt and watched Alexander take over the world. And I saw the infamous Pharaoh Tutankhamun on his deathbed. I am 3,452 years old Kenshin. I know of no one who would sell their soul to see what I have seen."

She turned to him slowly and all he could do was stare in to her eyes—the eyes he had fist glimpsed eternity in. "I am beyond my time, Kenshin. There is no place I haven't seen, nothing I haven't done. I have lost all purpose to live, my ikigai."

Kenshin's anger flowed out of his blood in a veritable avalanche. Her pain was something tangible and utterly forlorn. It made his heart hurt simply to think about it. He turned out to sea, trying to absorb what she'd told him. She remained facing him, her head bent slightly. Suddenly, she seemed very old, not just in actual age but also in appearance, even though there was not a single wrinkle on her face.

"Do you know," he said quietly after many long minutes had passed, "I was in love with you?"

She looked at him sharply, her eyes meeting his with sudden fear and apprehension. He went on without looking at her.

"I realized when you had just completed training me and we had traveled to Tokyo to celebrate. It was Tanabata and you teased me because I hadn't gotten you a gift. To get back at you, I grabbed your hand and ran through the streets with you. We stopped on a bridge and I looked over. You were so beautiful in the moonlight, with your cheeks flushed and your eyes sparkling. That was when I realized I never wanted to leave your side."

He looked at her then, eyes burning with an emotion Kaoru didn't dare name.

"But you did," she said quickly. "You left when we came to the States."

He looked away again, staring at his hands as he considered how to answer. "I left because I was a fool. It was just like with my first teacher. I was unwilling, in my youthful impetuosity, to admit that you had more experience in such matters and you probably had the right of it. Also, I had this image of you in my mind, of this clean, innocent being and that image was ruined for me. It took my years away from you to realize that everyone is stained in some ways."

Kaoru might have laughed if he hadn't been speaking in such a serious way. Had he truly thought of her in such a manner? It seemed so unlikely, and yet she knew he spoke the truth.

Kenshin turned back to her. "Kaoru, you should know something." His eyes were shining with that same emotion and Kaoru wanted to shrink away from him. He'd already hurt her once and she had no desire to feel that same biting pain a second time.

"In my time away from you, I did a lot of growing up. When I heard you'd died, I wanted nothing more than to find out who had slain you and cut their heart out. Only when I understood that, did I know that I was still in love with you…am still in love with you.

"To see you this way is painful to me. You are wrong when you say no one would care. I care. And to know that you would willingly throw away your life if you could…that makes me want to grab hold of you and shake some sense into you. If a reason for living is what you require, then let me give it to you. Let me be your ikigai."

He was close now, so close she could feel his breath fanning across her face. On it she could smell the tantalizing hint of the blood he'd consumed earlier that night. His personal scent enveloped her, reminding her of when the world had still been wild and untamed by the hand of humans. Part of her really wanted to take his words at face value and throw herself into his arms, but it was a very small part.

"Kenshin, you and I walk very different paths now. You are a hound of the Blood Council. I am a vampire who is not supposed to exist. Saitoh knows I'm alive, but he will not speak unless I step forward to claim my Council seat. I can't do that."

"Why not?" he demanded, trying very hard to keep from touching her.

"Because of what the Council did to me. They destroyed me, Kenshin. They tried to kill me because I was too powerful for them to control through bribery and tricks.

"Beyond that, I refuse to belong to such a twisted and corrupt organization. You know as well as I do how warped they have all become, save Saitoh, perhaps. To belong to that… You become what you surround yourself with, Kenshin. Even after 3,000 years, I am not above their influence. They can taint me just as easily as they taint the NewBloods."

She backed a few steps away from him, studying his face and tracking the emotions there. There was anger certainly, but there was also regret and pain. He did not like hearing this. Part of her enjoyed what she was doing to him. That he had lived 150 years and maintained his scant optimism was something she envied and part of her wanted to rip that from him. The other part of her was screaming silently at her own stupidity. She had to leave before that part won out.

"We are of different worlds now, Kenshin. And while that is true…I am alone in this world just as much as you are. Even if you break free of their influence we will still be worlds apart. I cannot be with you Kenshin, anymore than I am able to kill myself."

With those words she turned and began to walk away. Her power gathered around her until it was almost visible, cloaking her form in an eerie ghost light. Kenshin shouted unintelligibly and ran to catch hold of her, but her form was already only ectoplasm. He watched as the image of her glowed for a moment before beginning to fade. A wind kicked up, blowing off the icy black waves. It struck the image with ferocity and ripped the vision to pieces. Kenshin watched in despair as she floated out of his life once again, a single tattered cloud born by the wind.

Glossary type thing:

tenshi: heavenly being

Ishin Shishi: the faction Kenshin fought for during the revolution; opposed the shogunate

Battousai: Kenshin's alias during the war; literally means master of deadly sword drawing

Tanabata: also called the Star Festival; a time when, according to Japanese legend, the stars Altair and Vega, normally separated in the sky, meet; very romantic, ne?

ikigai: literally one's reason for living (and by far the coolest Japanese word I know)

A/N: This story is, as yet, not complete. However, know that I will NEVER, ever leave a story unfinished. That is one thing I cannot do to you people. However, I cannot guarantee lengths between updates. I'm hoping to have chapter two ready by the first week of February. Again, no guarantees. My author page has been updated. Also, if you like my writing, I hope to have another story out real soon called "The Things he carried." It's a modern day fic based on the life of a soldier who has finally returned after three years fighting in the war, and yes, it will be RK. Until then, enjoy this little semi-dark fantasy. As always, thanks for reading.