Fall from grace
By hye-kyo
Disclaimer: Nope, RK isn't mine.
Author's Notes: So I wanted to do a piece wherein Kaoru's the one who time travels. And here it is.
Title: 1870s
Rating: T
Kenshin had folded his soiled clothes and had put them in the hamper. There were so many clothes to wash: Yahiko had just come back from training in the mountains and had added to the pile, Sano promised to treat him to lunch at the Akebeko and added some more to the pile. He would be needing at least the entire day to finish everything and that would leave too little time to clean the dojo.
Oh well. He shrugs, if he doesn't take a bath now he would probably forget about it soon. And he needed one, he had spent the entire morning cleaning the storehouse, looking for things that can still be sold. He should really ask Sano to look for a job, or else...
He would not want to think about it. If the daughter of the landowner returns from her trip abroad, they would probably be kicked out. And without much money where on earth will the three of them stay? And to think he was formerly the Battousai! The Battousai!
He shook his head, he had been thinking too much. The landowner died some years before and the family doctor, Gensai-sensei had been looking after the house for a long time along with the landowner's daughter. Gensai-sensei invited the three of them to stay, saying that the Ojou-san of the house saw them and took pity and asked if they could stay and since they looked jobless, could they take care of the house as well while they were away? The Ojou-san of the house will be leaving for Boston, Gensai-sensei said, and the ship Manjiro will be leaving tomorrow and will take many moons to reach Boston and will take more to get back to Yedo. He added by saying he will be leaving as well, he will be taking the opportunity to visit his family in Ise he said.
It was Sano who immediately agreed. And two years had passed since then. Once a seafarer from Okinawa brought them a newspaper from Hawaii. It was in English, the man said, but there was an inset with some Japanese text on it and Kenshin found it amusing to read small bits of information about Japan on that newspaper, so this is how foreigners perceived us? He chuckled. Interesting. The seafarer also brought a letter, from the Oujou-san, he said and after taking a cup of tea from Kenshin, he left along with the newspaper.
It was a short note, saying she will be back soon and was hoping that the house was in order. When she comes back she hopes to find them still there for if she does not, she will have the police find them—her family, which was small yet extremely wealthy, was friends with the Reformists anyway, but not with him even though he was one of the many little, secondary characters of the Reformation.
He stepped into the tub and wished he had lowered the temperature of the water. But well, this was better for his tired body. He suddenly sat up, remembering Megumi-dono saying she will be back later that afternoon. He panicked, wondering if he had locked the door. Megumi-dono had the habit of sneaking in. Many times when Sano had found him in various states of accidental impropriety with Megumi-dono he had shot him a death glare that rivalled Saito's, Mibu's wolf.
He stepped out once more, careful not to make too much puddle with the water dripping from him and barred the door. There now. He treaded back to the ofuro, careful not to slip and stepped in, the water pooling around his legs, his waist, his shoulders as he slid and revelled in the warmth of the water.
He closed his eyes, the characters in the Ojou-san's letter appearing in his mind—the neat, dainty strokes which clashed vividly with the forceful choice of words. He inferred from that that whatever threat the Ojou-san made in the letter will be followed through, swiftly. Aku. Zoku. Zan. He shivered, sank more deeply in the water and tried to picture her in his mind.
Perhaps she is past her mid thirties already, even though Gensai-sensei kept referring to her as Ojou-san, Kenshin was more inclined to think of her as older. She must have beautiful hands, he thought, but she must be strict, observant of decorum and etiquette. Well, then maybe I should start training those two in proper etiquette. Her name means fragrant, Gensai-sensai proffered after telling him her name, and he could envision a woman in a fashionably classic kimono, the color of the layers well thought off, elaborate hair, long dainty fingers. She must be very tall and he could almost imagine her having other servants throwing them out. He sighed. Fragrant. Kamiya Kaoru. A beautiful name. She must be beautiful too. An old but beautiful woman.
He closed his eyes, his neck against the ledge, his thoughts getting dulled by the warmth of the water. The Ojou-san would come home and the three of them would be at the gate waiting.
Konnichiwa Kaoru-dono—
He blinked.
The splash too loud and too high, water droplets are falling on his face like rain. There was an almost hysterical ripple in the water making whatever it was that fell invisible. And bubbles were rising.
He blinked again. He slowly looked up, the roof was intact. He looked down, watched with horror as strands of hair slowly rose to the surface. His eyes widened as a head full of black hair rose in slow motion and he almost let out a girl-like shriek when a young woman suddenly sat up.
"God," she exclaimed, taking in mouthfuls of air, "Misao would laugh at me if I tell her I almost drowned in the bathtub." She was calming herself when her eyes found his.
He was much too occupied with her sudden appearance to notice how naked the girl was. And had it not for the very unconventional meeting, he would have noticed how extremely pretty she is. But that would be under normal circumstances. This was not considered normal.
She suddenly let out a scream, which jolted him from his shock and immediately he grabbed her and covered her mouth, forgetting and not entirely noticing how naked they both were.
"O-ojou-san, do not scream please." When her eyes suddenly lost that wild look in them and was replaced, instead of panic, he wondered and realized the state of undress they were both in; his face grew hot. He immediately tried to move as far away as possible, but with the ofuro being very too little, he found it hard to manoeuvre.
She was sitting on his legs by the time they were both relatively calm and collected.
"Uhmm..." she opened her mouth to speak and tried to look straight at him, but failed miserably as she blushed furiously and looked away. And it was only then that she seemed to notice how different her surroundings were.
"W-who are you miss?" he asked, trying to avert his eyes, though he could quite remember he had accidentally saw something and had accidentally touched something during their more hysterical moments. He felt his face growing hotter by the minute.
"W-where am I?" she let the words roll of her tongue, her eyes roaming her environment.
"Well, I am the caretaker of this house." He glanced at her, noticed how beads of water dotted her white neck.
"This is Japan, yes?" she seemed to have forgotten her state of undress as she slowly stood up to take in her surroundings. Kenshin tried to avert his eyes once again.
"Yes," he closed his eyes, lest he get tempted. He run the question in his mind again and frowned at the very obvious answer.
"Tokyo yes?"
He furrowed his brows. Of course. He was almost tempted to roll his eyes at the question. "Yes."
She stopped, looked at his face and asked slowly, "2011?"
He arched a brow, baffled. Was this a password? Code? He remembered during his time at the Ishin Shishi they used to speak in codes. Was he supposed to understand that?
"Is this the year 2011?"
He almost forgot to breath. How could someone so beautiful be a nutcase?
"Is this the year 2011?" she asked, her voice higher, more hysterical, she had straddled him, a move which did all sorts of mischievous things to his body. He tried to scoot away but she had grabbed his shoulders and had started shaking him.
"No!"
She stopped. Her mouth in an "o" and slumped, her earlier vigor suddenly gone. Her body went limp and she let her head fall against his chest. "No?"
"N-no," he whispered, not knowing how to move, what to say, what to do.
"How did I get here?" she muttered again and he knew she had started crying.
"I don't know miss...I don't know," and he let his hand touch her head and he began murmuring wordless noises to calm her down.
""
He offered her some clothes which she willingly changed into. He prepared some food and was glad that she liked it. She even asked for second helpings and as soon as she emptied her third bowl of rice she began to talk animatedly about what happened that morning. She was taking a bath she said and she had almost fallen asleep when she felt the bathtub melting under her and suddenly she was underwater and when she rose to the surface finally after what seemed like a lifetime, she found him. "What year is this?"
"It is the tenth year of the Meiji Era," he says, smiling.
She paused thoughtfully for a while, pulled some hair back behind her ear and said, "More or less 1870s...good thing I paid attention to my history class." She smiled ruefully, "Maybe tomorrow when I wake up I will be back in my time. Perhaps this is a dream or something."
"Perhaps," he too hoped that this might be a dream.
"By the way your speech pattern is so cute."
He was tempted to tell that her choice of words was actually weird and that if there was a weird person in the house right now, it was her and not him. Besides, this is his time and hers, well he doesn't know when 2011 is, but perhaps it is in the future since it sounded so far away and just the number itself seemed to be so far away. But he didn't say anything since this was all a dream.
"Well," she took in a deep breath, "I think this is a dream. I think I have been here before. "
"Really?" he offered some more tea which she gladly took.
"You know how sometimes we dream of the same things? That's the feeling I get when I look at my surroundings now."
"Oh," he murmured, watching varied emotions play in her face.
"Well," she leaned closer, "Since this is a dream, we might as well make the most out of it."
"What do you mean?" he fought the urge to blush. She was so close and so fragrant. Fragrant. He suddenly remembered the Oujou-san and wondered how, if this was not a dream, he would explain the appearance of this girl.
"For starters, let us introduce ourselves. You first." She smiled, eagerly waiting for him to speak.
He cleared his throat, "Alright. I am Himura Kenshin. And since this is a dream, I'll let you call me by my given name." He almost blushed at that.
She giggled, "Okay then, I'll call you Kenshin."
"And you?" he broke into a smile.
She leaned closer, her brows furrowed, and whispered, "Try to guess?"
"Guess? There are a thousand, no a million, no millions, millions! names in Japan, how could I possibly guess what your name is?"
"Just try to." She urged, pouting.
He looked away, her body reacting weirdly again. "Alright," he said after taking a deep breath. He decided he would say a random name, he knew he would be wrong anyway, but at the moment he could not think of any name. Except Kaoru. "Kaoru?"
Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"
He frowned. He supposed she was going to say that whatever name he told her. "You do not have to humor me you know."
She leaned back. "Humor you? Why would I do that? My name is Kaoru. Kamiya Kaoru."
Now it was his turn to widen his eyes.
A/n: So how was it?