A big thank you to all my reviwers: kokornagomu, SeaSaltChocolate, geckohawaii, AlterEgoSadist, SRAS9, caseyedith, LimeGrass, Miztical-Dragon, Emi Violet, Scarred Sword Heart, and Crau-san.
Premorse
-adjective
Pertaining to the end of something irregularly shortened, as if bitten or broken off.
The Kyoto night air is hot and still, even with the window open; not a breath of air stirs in the sickroom. Kaoru kneels beside the futon, ignoring the trickle of sweat inching its way down her temple. Any discomfort to her is visited on Kenshin a thousand fold.
He has not woken since Sano and Aoshi brought him back. She still remembers that stare, sightless and glazed, before his eyes slide closed as though they are too heavy to hold open.
Even that memory, however, has not the painful power of this moment. Kenshin is hanging onto life by a thread: he is dry and feverish, his lips cracked and bleeding; and his breathing…
It is hoarse, shallow; every intake is a gasp, every exhale a stuttering agony, and Kaoru never knows which pause between will be the last.