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"Walk beside me," Kenshin orders as they enter Kyoto, taking Kaoru by the wrist and pulling her forward. "I can't see you otherwise." His free hand remains draped on the hilt of his sword, a clear warning.
Kyoto does not bear scars from the war; instead it is full of open, bleeding wounds. Here is the burnt husk of a building, which Kenshin looks to as they walk past. His face pales before he lowers his head, hiding his eyes under the brim of his bamboo hat. Kaoru wonders about the story of this building, if Kenshin played a part in it, but she doesn't ask.
The people of Kyoto show the signs as well. Their eyes are that of both hunter and prey, sliding back and forth, always waiting for an enemy. Women keep their heads down and their feet quick, men try to look in all directions at once, and even the elderly - who so often stop and share stories or conversation at the sides of street - speak in quick whispers before moving on.
Kenshin radiates tension.
Kaoru is not blind that there are many more eyes than she would have thought that catch sight of his red hair falling down his back like a spill of solid blood, and recognize him. These men part to let them through, before drawing close together. A few whisper, "The demon of Kyoto - is the war truly over? It can't be, not if he's returned..."
They come to an inn. It is neither small nor large, neither old nor new; it simply exists quietly on a side street where few pass by. Kenshin gestures for Kaoru to enter the inn ahead of her, unwilling to leave her back unprotected.
"Hello, how may I - Battousai-san!" The old woman that greets them gasps with a mouth missing most teeth, though it quickly stretches into a wide, happy smile. Her dark eyes glimmer like a young girl's, and she flutters happily. "My goodness, I hadn't though I'd see you again, at least not so soon - and this must be your young wife! Why, I know it is; Kaoru-chan, it's just as your father said, you do have his pretty blue eyes!"
Kaoru feels faintly breathless from this woman's enthusiasm.
"You knew my father?" Kaoru questions, taking a half step forward. Kenshin removes his hat, and while his smile is faint, it is warm.
"Oh, yes - why, he spoke of you so often that I feel as though you're my own grandchild. I was so happy when Battousai-san came back to Kyoto and told me you had become his wife. Do you remember the few times your father came home before his death, he brought with him little gifts? I sent you those, since my daughter is grown and I don't have a granddaughter to buy pretty things for."
"My fan!" Kaoru's heart opens like a flower under a spring sunshine, and she allows the old woman to take her hands in a warm grasp. "And my hairpins, and the comb...oh, you're the kind woman that sent me those? I treasure them still, they're all so very pretty."
"I'm glad. Oh, forgive me, my dear. I'm Yamada Eiko, but please, you call me Soba. Everyone here does." She releases Kaoru's hands and turns to Kenshin, whose smile has turned rather indulgent at this point. It's obvious that he is fond of this old woman, and how could he not be? She radiates kindness, and Kaoru feels as though she is closer to her father's memory after her words.
"Your usual room is empty." Soba gestures down the hall. "Go ahead and take it. I'll bring the two of you something up to eat, I'm sure you're hungry after your trip from Edo."
"Thank you." Kenshin and Kaoru bow, before he leads her away. His hand never leaves the hilt of his sword.