Kaoru continued to brush her palm over Kenshin's back though it was obvious that he had slipped into sleep sometime during his weeping. Even his tears had been silent; an occasional muffled gasp for breath and nothing more than his shaking shoulders and a few escaped tears to show his grief. How he had borne it this long she would never know, but she was glad he had chosen to share the burden; two would carry this weight far better than one.

It was selfish she knew, but she was also grateful for the trust he had shown, resting in her arms like this, shoulders rising in deep and even breaths. She had asked much of him since he had joined her at the dojo, and he had not failed her once; had never complained or hesitated when work needed to be done. It aggravated her sometimes, how very cheerful he could be in his duty, but now she hoped for a return to that old brightness, feared that since light had been shed on these dark memories she might not see it again. Or perhaps he would be the better for this and those smiles would be wholly genuine and without bitterness.

She wanted that for him. And for her.

Save for the soothing motions of her hand, Kaoru hardly dared move lest he wake; Kenshin was a light sleeper and she worried that even the smallest sound might wake him from the much needed nap. She fought to hold back the ticklish sensation plaguing her, prayed she wouldn't sneeze, but the dust was wreaking havoc on her nose and she could feel her eyes begin to water. Not now, damn it. Not when he was finally resting so peacefully.

Carefully she lifted her free hand to pinch her nose roughly and drew shallow breaths through her mouth all to no avail. She turned aside quickly when her body defeated her, unable to stifle the urge. She sneezed, body jerking convulsively; Kenshin was halfway across the room in a matter of seconds, dragging her with him, his other hand scrabbling for his absent sakabatou. Spotting no immediate threat, he turned back to her, eyes still red with tears, but face dry.

Kaoru couldn't help her sheepish, slightly watery smile. Comprehension dawned and Kenshin chuckled softly, Kaoru snickered at the absurdity of it and before long they were both wiping away tears once more of an entirely different kind. It was more mirth than the circumstances strictly merited, but both pretended they didn't hear the hysterical edge to the other's laughter, delighting in the shared amusement instead.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't-"

Kenshin waved her apology away, glancing at the sunlight on the floor. "It is nearly evening, better to be awake when Sano arrives."

Kaoru sobered, "You think he will come?"

Kenshin shrugged and Kaoru noted with only the smallest pang of envy that even that motion was graceful. "If he has not found his supper. And he will not."

They smiled in perfect understanding, nothing forced or desperate in the gesture. Kaoru shook her head slowly, marveling at his resilience.

Kenshin cleared his throat, moving back to settle in his old place, inspecting the tea pot and noting its lack of warmth. He made as though to replenish it but Kaoru shook her head. "No need. I think we have had our share today." Kenshin nodded, fiddling with his cup aimlessly.

"We have time for one last, I think. If you would like." His formality had slipped away, but he looked a little… shy? Or cautious? The former was not a quality she typically associated with Kenshin, the latter was understandable; she didn't think she could hear another tale as heartbreaking as the last, not tonight, not so soon.

Kenshin caught her troubled look and shook his head, raising a placating hand as she sank down before him once more, a little closer than was strictly proper, but he gave no indication he had noticed.

"Not another… like that. Not tonight." He echoed her sentiments perfectly, a light blush dusting his cheekbones; definitely shy, now she was intrigued. "There will be time for those later." He hesitated, slanting a look at her from beneath his lashes, "Should you care to hear them."

Kaoru swallowed softly, but nodded without hesitation. She would gladly share this with him; the secret of every last scar.

"One last then." His voice sounded smothered, whether in amusement or embarrassment or simply fatigue she could not be sure, but she curled her legs beneath her and leaned forward to catch his softened voice.

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Two months. Nearly two months spent languishing in the Izaya, leaving the forsaken inn only by night and only to attend his duties. Kenshin was sure he was steadily losing himself to a gentle madness. Only this morning he had caught himself plucking at the threads of his sleeve, meticulously pulling out every one to cast it aside. His sword had been sharpened, honed and polished more times than it really ought this past week, whether the work was necessary or not and his help was not welcome in any other part of the inn, where the staff flinched away if he so much as came into view.

Kenshin tilted his head back against the wall and turned his head to watch the dust motes swirling in the shaft of sunlight from the window. He needed to be outside in that sunlight right now. He couldn't take even so much as another hour of lying here pitying himself. It was time to be gone.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind then he was out the door and hurrying down the stairs; curious that he did not even encounter a worker about their chores, but that was all to the better.

After so long inside with only the pale sunlight that streamed through his window the world suddenly seemed too bright; for a moment he was blinded and withdrew to the shadows of an alley until the spots had cleared from his vision. The noise was nearly deafening, men and women hocking their wares, shouting greetings and friendly insults to each other across the way. Everything was magnified and made more intense by his deprivation. Looking at this crowd he would never have guessed that not long ago they had all been struggling to ensure their homes were not consumed in the flames that had blanketed Kyoto.

Kenshin almost turned back inside at that thought, imagining the fires taking the city once more and he unable to help even the smallest and most inconsequential among them. He knew full well he could not afford to, forcing himself to come even this far was essential to recovery; it was a deep wound he bore, and the damage done to his body was not the half of it.

Slowly he emerged from the alley, keeping close enough to the walls of the ramshackle buildings that his fingertips could touch the thin wood did he reach out the tiniest bit. No one seemed to take note of him, but that was exactly what he wanted for now. At times he caught himself scanning the faces of little urchins running by on some errand or another; hollow cheeks, sunken eyes and desperate expressions. How many even cared for the ideals of this revolution? How many went hungry because of it? Useless to wonder, it simply was and every advancement demanded sacrifice.

Kenshin paused at one of the smaller stalls, accepting a small bowl of rice; it was not what his coin could have bought even a month ago, but many could not afford even this now. He ignored the attendant's gaping; it was his own fault for forgetting to cover his hair. That raised thoughts of Hiko, and he ate faster, determined now to put as much space between he and this man as possible.

Across the main street and down side-streets, cutting over bridges and stopping only occasionally to speak with someone, getting a sense of the city's undercurrents once more. The people were not content, few felt that this was their war. Someday they would see otherwise, he was certain.

It was sometime before Kenshin realized that he was well and truly lost without even the smallest inkling of which way he had come. Too much time spent in his thoughts and not enough observing his surroundings; he should be grateful that his distraction would not cost him more than an hour's annoyance rather than his life.

Selecting a path, he took it, basking now in the quiet; only the soft echo of his footsteps and the muted sound of birdsong followed him. Kenshin glanced up, shading his eyes; assuming that it was an hour after noon, and he was certain it was, then he must be heading south, meaning the Izaya should be somewhere to his left and maybe another hour or so away. There was little cause to hurry, no one had need of him just yet; not for a few hours at the earliest.

Kenshin slipped through down the trails quietly even here, stretching muscles too long unused; he could feel something like a smile tugging at his lips every now and again. It was well worth this little distraction to relax that much again. He began to move faster without conscious will, feet thudding solidly against stone and dirt, the wind cooling him after the heat of the day. He ran faster still, careening around corners with abandon until finally he emerged onto a busier thoroughfare, slowing down and gathering his composure once more.

He walked now with all his old confidence, weeks of sorrow cast aside for the moment, eyes taking in the scene rather than merely seeing. He was so caught up in the at once familiar yet new sounds that he almost missed the child on the wall.

The child was one of a thousand; same dirty, tousled hair, same dusty face and painfully thin body. The difference lay entirely in his smile; the beaming faces he made at something just concealed from view, tucked neatly in the folds of a mended shirt.

Intrigued despite himself, Kenshin moved closer; the laughter and cat-calls on the street were false merriment, a fierce determination to show a brave face in a dark time. That smile was perfectly genuine and there was nothing forced in his laughter. What could possibly be so wondrous it could take anyone away from this?

Kenshin hesitated for a moment, near enough that the boy could see him if he but glanced up, far enough away that he was not a threat. Kenshin knew he looked awful, pale and haggard and that damned sword still hanging at his waist; even the bravest child would know to be wary.

The boy's shirt moved and Kenshin started, unintentionally drawing the child's attention. "Something you need?"

There wasn't anything particularly challenging in the tone, for all intents and purposes it seemed an honest question. Honest questions deserved honest answers.

"What do you have there?" It was an unpleasant surprise to hear himself speaking after so long, his voice was dry and hoarse with disuse.

The smile turned into a pleased grin as the child ever so carefully lifted a cat from the folds of his shirt, presenting it proudly as though it were the greatest treasure in all the world. To him, it likely was; there were any number of feral animals roaming the streets of Kyoto these days, very few would be so tolerant as to suffer a child's ungentle if well-meaning hands and if you could hardly afford to feed your family the beasts were the first to go hungry.

Kenshin's mouth curved into a smile, crooked and unpracticed after months of disuse, but no less real for that. "Does it have a name?" Cautiously he moved closer, watching to make sure his approach unnerved neither child nor animal.

"Cat."

Kenshin's smile widened, evening out and growing more relaxed. "A fitting name, indeed."

The child laughed at his gentle teasing and Kenshin too relaxed, coming to stop at the wall beside them.

"Coming up?" The child chirped, neding no further invitation Kenshin pushed himself up, perching precariously on the rough-hewn stone. He glanced over as child and cat made room for him and nearly doubled up at the bolt of pain that coursed through him. It was a moment before he realized that the pain had not been physical; it was hard, seeing this child now after the Fire.

There had been blazed springing up all around the city that night, some that continued to burn long into the next day, but for him there would only ever be one Fire. He winced, self-consciously tucking his hands in the folds of his shirt. The sunlight struck his fading burns a little too harshly at times, causing them to sting anew; privately Kenshin wondered how long it would be before he could go even a day without thinking of it.

"Are you sick?" The boy was frowning at him, absently stroking the cat's ruffled fur; the sound of a faint, rumbling purr reached his ears.

Kenshin shook his head mutely, still not sure he had it in him to speak just yet.

"A lot of them are." He nodded out to the people passing on the street and Kenshin hummed noncommittally.

"You have a name?" Amazing how fast they could jump from one topic to another, mercurial moods ready to shift at a moment's notice. Had he been this lackadaisical? A certain incident involving stealing a nip of Hiko's sake crossed his mind. Yes, it had to be a common trait children shared.

"Of course." Kenshin snorted at the child's disappointed glare, "Do you?"

"Doesn't everyone?" There was a little bit of sharpness beneath the words, but his impatience was merited. Kenshin had no desire to give his name, and he would just as soon not know this boy's either. It would be just another name for another face that might not last the war. One more thing to concern him when there were already so many.

He jumped at the feel of sun-warmed fur pressing into his fingers, only just visible under the cloth of his shirt. Gently he shifted his fingers, tickling an insistent chin; "Is it yours?"

The boy tugged its ear teasingly, allowed it to bat at his hand with little paws. "I guess. No one else wants her."

Well enough. A boy could do worse than to have this tiny, fearsome beast for his companion. Lucky to have a friend at all.

Kenshin could dimly hear a rhythmic tapping sound from somewhere in the distance; too far away to be any threat to them, but something worth monitoring. Shaking the thought away he turned back to the boy. "Are you sure your parents will feel the same way?"

Curious, he had spoken more to this stranger these past minutes than he had his allies in weeks; little wonder, the company was far more agreeable. He raised an eyebrow at the darkly mutinous expression that flickered across the child's face.

"Yes." Spoken in tones of absolute conviction. Kenshin devoutly hoped his stubbornness would pay off.

Glancing up, he could see a high cloud of dust sweeping down the street and shouts began to reach his ears, the sound of goods quickly shifted to avoid destruction. Kenshin's eyes widened slightly, horses? Who could afford to keep horses now if not…? It had to be a messenger, with guards no less; that would mean there was work to be done tonight.

The boy turned to follow his gaze, one hand gripping Kenshin's shoulder for balance as he slowly stood to see a little further. Kenshin clung to that little hand perhaps a little tighter than necessary, his other holding the cat lest it panic and bolt into danger.

There was no time to ask the boy what he saw before horse and rider were there, nimbly skirting darting pedestrians and weaving pat obstacles, The horse's withers were soaked in sweat, and Kenshin could hear its labored breathing for a moment as it passed by, something urgent then or the fool wouldn't risk his mount this way. He cried out in surprise as something dug into his unprotected palm, shredding skin easily; unthinking, he squeezed and an indignant yowl made him jump, startling the boy that clung to him.

Swiftly Kenshin twisted off the wall, pulling the falling child into his arms, holding him close until those fearful gasps finally ceased. Those tiny claws were sunk even deeper in his flesh now, and Kenshin was sure he would have a mark or two to show for it in the coming days, but for now he was simply thankful they were not hurt.

Gradually the boy pulled away, still staring down the street incredulously down the street. He mumbled something and Kenshin shook his head, "What did-"

"Hibiki." The boy muttered. "'S my name."

Carefully Kenshin slipped the little claws from his skin, wincing at the sudden sting and dull throbbing. This was far preferable to many of his injuries, but he wasn't sure he ever wanted to explain these marks. The humiliation of it would probably prove the death of him. "Hibiki."

The boy perked up, grinning widely. "Take your friend and go home. Quickly."

The boy's smile faded, but Kenshin did not see. His mind was already several hours away, seeing the time when he would meet the messenger again.

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Kaoru stood slowly, stretching her tingling legs and testing to be sure they would bear her weight. Kenshin still looked as though he were years away, but she was relieved to see a small smile tugging at his lips. She tilted her head curiously, voice soft but edged with unwilling amusement. "What happened to them?"

Kenshin shut his eyes, shook his head. "I don't know." His voice was ragged, but she preferred even this resignation to the inconsolable misery from before.

He stood with her, offering an arm to support her while she struggled with her still numb legs. She didn't dare break the silence now; it was clear Kenshin was not quite ready to return to her yet and this was not a time to press.

She took the offered arm gratefully, following him through the doorway; though he wasn't more than a few inches taller it still took two of her steps to equal his one. She was just tired; that had to be it.

"You will be wanting a bath, miss Kaoru." Ah. The inevitable return to formality. She would have to shock it out of him later, they had come too far today to revert to this distance.

"Will you see to cooking?" She couldn't quite stop the blush that spread up her neck and across her cheeks; one of these days she would swallow her pride and ask him to teach her some of his tricks. That day was not today though.

Kenshin hesitated, "Tae must be-"

She knew a hint when she heard one, somehow she didn't think Tae would be too pleased to see Sano darkening the doorstep of her respectable establishment so soon but…"Akabeko it is."

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Sorry for the delay, between not having my marks back and a very unstable internet connection it took a little work to get this chapter written.

Marks back and internet fixed, updates should now return to normal. :)