Time Heals All
~.~
"Oh, you should have seen him, Takani-san! Of course his form and technique could use some work, but he truly has the heart for the Kamiya Kasshin style!"
Megumi lightly tittered at the exuberance of the Kamiya girl.
The sun had just risen to its peak when Megumi had spotted Kaoru and Kenshin in the market. They hadn't noticed her at first, and they were too far away for Megumi to catch their conversation, but judging from Kaoru's flailing gestures and Kenshin's sheepish posture, the handsome wanderer had done something to upset the little raccoon. Having known them for a couple weeks now, Megumi knew this to be a nearly daily occurrence, and thought little of it—merely continuing her casual perusal of the market (they didn't really want to speak with her anyway).
It didn't take long for them to spot her, however (and really, Megumi doubted Kenshin hadn't noticed her), and even less time for them to invite her to lunch. Which is how Megumi came to find herself at the Akabeko, listening to the equally amusing and concerning tale of how Yahiko protected the honor of an Akabeko employee. Some girl by the name of Sanjo Tsubame. ('I'll keep you safe my dear.' Oily touches, wandering hands.)
"He was very brave, that he was," Kenshin agreed serenely, a gentle smile softening his already soft features.
Tenderness quietly blossomed in her chest at his expression—even while she knew it to be false. One did not spend years with a man such as Shinomori Aoshi and not pick up on the subtleties of the human countenance. "I'm sure Yahiko-kun was," she said, pushing the food around on her plate (Ragged, filthy, emaciated. Toothless mouths and rancid bodies. Hairless scalps, jaundiced skin. Weak pleas 'more, I need more!) "I only wish I could have seen it." ('Give them what they want, my lovely doctor.') Megumi finally swallowed a mouthful of rice.
Kaoru spiraled into many assurances of wouldn't-that-have-been-wonderful's and don't-feel-bad's, and it was only a couple in before Megumi tuned her out and turned to begin flirting with the red-headed swordsmen. That shut the younger woman up and brought out her fierce temper, much to Megumi's amusement and Kenshin's embarrassment. He in turn ignored Megumi's advances, uttering heartfelt assurances in an effort to calm Kaoru down.
Megumi's stomach churned.
~.~
The sun had fallen below the horizon hours ago, quieting the few occupants in the clinic. Megumi kneeled in the front room, stitching one of the extra hakamas by candlelight while keeping an ear out for any signs of distress from the over-night patients.
It had only been a few days since Gensai-sensei assigned her the night shift—just to get her used to working alone—and she'd enjoyed it more than she'd anticipated. Gensei-sensei, having noticed how often she worked, half-joked about working herself to the bone before asking if she'd like some time off to get some rest. She'd been quick to assuage him of his worries, her excuse being she'd nothing else to occupy her time.
More work meant less sleep. Daytime terrors were easier to combat than the demons of her dreams.
"Where's the old man," a hard voice rang through the silence, startling Megumi.
Sanosuke Sagara's hulking form blocked the moonlight from the doorway, and Megumi's stomach dropped so hard it nearly hit the floor. "He's begun allowing me to run the clinic during the night," she said, finally able to scrape together a response.
He went to cross his arms, twitched, and then dropped them awkwardly at his sides. "Trusts you with his patients?" Suspicious. Always suspicious.
Ignoring the unspoken accusation, Megumi nodded to his hand, able to see its mangled form even in the dim candlelight. "Your hand is bleeding."
"It'll last till morning." Hard voice, condemning eyes. His judgment tore at her heart and exhausted her damaged spirit.
Megumi's shoulders sagged under the weight of his glare. "It looks painful, Sagara-san," she said tiredly. Phantom pain shot up her own arm at its grotesque shape. "Surely you can tolerate me long enough to fix it."
She hadn't expected him to stay. Not really. So when he hesitated only a moment before dropping in front of her with a "Hurry up," it was all she could do to stop her mouth from dropping. The little candle lit his face, not that it did much good. Megumi might as well have been staring at a statue.
"Just wrap it. I'll have Doc fix it in the morning."
Megumi often tried to read Sagara and usually quite successfully, as long as his attention was elsewhere. Deceit simply wasn't in his nature. Turn his eyes to her, however, and she'd find it impossible to meet his gaze. Tonight simply assured her of it. Shame kept her eyes downcast, most definitely, but pride steadied her hands. She would take his biting words and harsh judgments for she deserved them (you deserve everything I'm giving you, lovely Megumi), but never, never would she let him see how it hurt.
The tension thickened as Megumi took his large calloused hand into her own. As quickly as possible—limiting the offensive skin-to-skin contact—Megumi rearranged his hand, cleaning and wrapping as she went. Her stomach coiled into tight knots, and she forced her shoulders to relax. Her heart pounded with something akin to fear, and she slowed her breathing ("well, aren't we so proud. Even after all this time." More slow caresses, more deadly orders).
He flexed his newly wrapped hand gently, and Megumi's sharp eyes caught his slight wince.
"Be sure to see Gensai-sensei as early as possible, and try not to use it the next few weeks. You could have lasting damage otherwise," she said dispassionately, watching him rise silently without sparing her a glance and head to the door.
Something fiery and forgotten flared for a moment. "You're welcome," she muttered.
His footsteps suddenly halted. "You don't deserve my thanks, Witch," he snarled, slamming the door behind him.
A/N: Thank you for all your kind words! Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Let me know!