agitation, sorrow, healing
"You should not take your wounds so lightly, Kenshin." As grains of salt scoured Kaoru's skin and burned petty finger wounds, blood began to let from the cloth of her husband's shredded kimono.
To have thought the days of Kenshin's swordsman heroics were far behind him had been foolish. Although years had passed since Megumi had informed them of his limitations, the notorious war figure nearly jumped at every chance regardless to put himself in harm's way in order to protect others.
She had nearly forgotten the ring of an unsheathed sakobatō, the metallic scrape of pain and mercy singing throughout a sudden and hushed silence. It was as if, in that tense moment, all the air in the world would never be enough to fill her burning lungs. His name was the only thing that could ever escape her throat in these instances, the only clarity to her mind and the single restraint holding him back.
He froze, fumbled at the sound of her blinding, throbbing desperation, and took the brunt of their adversaries' blow in his rare slip-up. Mere moments after, Kaoru had been able to swiftly disarm the raging drunkard of his bloodied, broken sake bottle as Kenshin clutched at a gushing shoulder wound, gritting reassurances to a distraught Tae through his teeth.
"I know your scars and their fading histories, every stiff joint that will act up when we're alone together, but I was mistaken to think you knew just how capable I am at protecting myself."
He was looming over her handiwork, watching her intently. "That man spoke ill of you, Kaoru-dono. His words were most cruel."
Hardly able of keeping her frustration in check, the headstrong woman curled her fingers into her palm, nails digging into her skin through the ruined fabric gathered in her hands. "Then you give me the chance to defend myself and dissuade him!"
The way she glowered at him nearly made Kenshin recoil with guilt. His wrecked arm, now positioned in a sling, trembled with nerve-numbing pain. "This one simply… that is, this one only wanted—"
Disregarding her chore of tending to the aftermath of their incident at the Akabeko, Kaoru suddenly rose to level her stern gaze, willing him to understand the degree of her vexation. "Your intentions were noble, but they also showed that you do not trust me."
If he had not recognized the root of this spat, her words would have been far more cutting than his most recent laceration. That, he knew, was far from what his beloved wanted. Her actions the previous night had been fueled by fear, and now, righteous apprehension.
Drawing nearer to her, her shaking frame nearly flush against the front of him, Kenshin could sense the heat of her rage and the festering of a deep, soul-inflicted wound. Glistening, sorrowful eyes creased around the edges met her own through his scarlet tinted bangs. She readily held his pain.
"You shouldn't have to suffer anymore." Words reduced to a hoarse, timid whisper, they nearly took her by the throat. With a hesitant step forward, she gently settled her cheek against the warm cleave his fresh change of kimono offered, her fingers tentatively tracing the folds, taking time to listen to the strength of his beating heart. "I will prevent it where I can, Kenshin."
His free arm wearily wrapped around the small of her back and held her as close as she could get. "Arigatou," he murmered, the warmth of his thanks tangling in the stands like silk at the top of her head, "Kaoru-dono."
The weight of his burdens sank into her, but her frame, a temple of thorough discipline built to withstand many great trials, endured and helped him to stand.