Holi!
This chapter is a preview that needed to take place and be separated from the upcoming chapter.
Enjoy!
"Intermedio."
Marzo, 1865
Kaoru's voice could be heard as a distant echo, even if those words had been written and not spoken. Kenshin could give life to her voice by memory.
I hope my wish can be the same as yours...
The samurai's body shuddered.
His body did not feel like his own.
The heart, that had been beating uncontrolably barely moments ago, had squeezed in his chest with such force that it had ended up beating out of time... an arrhythmia that danced between the rush of despair and the fatigue of defeat.
He barely saw anything.
He was hardly aware.
Kenshin raises his right hand, ready to take the handle of that damn katana, in a movement that causes him physical pain, but that doesn't come only from his injuries. He holds it slowly, wanting nothing to do with that weapon, then clenches his fist, and it's as if it burned him...
The air enters his lungs with difficulty then, and his chest is once more oppressed with much more force than before, as if the touch of the metal mockingly showed him that this was real and not just a nightmare. Kenshin sobs, a gasp that doesn't quite amount to a lament... His gaze remains unfocused, teeth clenched.
"Don't pull the sword", he tells himself mentally, "If you do, the blood will gush out, and you won't be able to do anything to save her life", he concludes. And he bites his lip in an almost vain attempt to drown out those thoughts, the same ones that would have made sense before if only the person in front of him was still alive. And knowing this is what is truly breaking him.
The notion that she is dead.
He squeezes his eyes shut when he finally pulls the katana quickly; the metal burns him, wounds him, and kills him in a thousand and one different ways... He drops the weapon as soon as it is free and then it falls to the ground with a crash, a clang, clang that reverberates above the silence. But Kenshin hardly registers what is happening around him; his need to receive and hold the body that has been released is much more urgent and important. Holding her around the waist, he allows her now expressionless face to find refuge in his right shoulder. They had always been almost the same height, a part of his mind remembers...
Another one curses that the aroma is not the right one.
White plum blossom above the essence of jasmine…
Nausea returns with more force.
It is another type of pain, another type of anguish, another type of death.
Guilt.
The presence on his left side -a woman- lets out sincere laments, silent tears that wet the wood of the dojo. Behind his back is another presence -a man- sunk in the same sadness, although his crying is much more silent. Kenshin is equally relieved and distraught to have these two presences with him; if he had been alone, he might not have been able to bear it until now... But, at the same time, these presences add weight to his shame and guilt.
He hadn't been able to protect her.
"How could it all end like this?!" Claims another part of his mind, as the weight of the body in his arms registers.
With trembling hands -with the most infinite sweetness- Kenshin turns the inert body of the young kendoka and lets it slide while he guides her until she is on her back, carefully placing her head on his lap, and his gaze meets that absent expression squarely.
There is another kind of silence.
One that screams and rumbles in the recesses that remain of that room that had been sacred to her. One who knows will haunt him until he dies.
It's her absence...
The lack of her voice, her laughter... Her words of encouragement and comfort. It is the lack of brilliance in her gaze... Those blue gems that always surrounded him like the infinity of the same sky and sometimes of the sea are now so opaque that he no longer recognizes them as hers.
"It's empty, she's not here anymore." Regrets his treacherous mind again. "She doesn't feel like her anymore…She's gone."
Then the scar...
It's a punishment for him, he knows. But at this point, he can't help but think that she was the one who had suffered the most. What have her eyes seen in those last moments? Would she have resisted calling him because of his infinite goodness towards him? Even then, protecting him from himself? She would have put up a fight no doubt, but for what purpose?
How much would she have suffered! He lamented, unable to hold back the tears that were coming back now with more force than when he had just found her... reliving, no, drawing the possible scenario of her anguishing death; dying with each wound that she may have received.
"Kaoru!"
His fingertips caress her face almost without touching it... the sight of that cross-shaped scar on her porcelain skin hurts him...
He can not…
It's too much!
"KAORU!"
…
Kenshin wakes up with a start.
"Ah, ha, ah, ha, ah, ha," he breathes through his mouth. He feels that the air is insufficient for him, he finds himself sitting on the futon, but he does not remember how he got there.
Panic!
He feels that he is not breathing. There is a terrible oppression in his chest that crushes him until it hurts his ribs.
The darkness absorbs him. The room seems strange and dangerous to him. He doesn't know where he is. His skin is drenched in sweat, and his eyes barely register what lies ahead. He must stand, he must get out, he must do something! Anything! There is an irrational fear that dominates him as he feels how the heat rushes out of his body and the tips of his fingers tingle. He feels the tightness in his wrists and heels and can hardly resist the urge to twist them; his legs are heavy. He holds his forehead with one hand while the other gropes the ground, trying unsuccessfully to stand up; the tears are released, and the crying that had been stuck in his throat begins to rise, further obstructing the air intake. His head throbs like it's going to burst.
Despair!
He sinks his fingers into his hair, squeeze, pull; the wild eyes and the open mouth show a clear gesture of anguish. Someone. Something, Someone, to help him. Someone!
"Kenshin!"
Suddenly his teacher is there, the roar of his voice splits him like lightning, managing to attract his attention, but anxiety and fear continue to dominate him. He feels like a castaway, blindly searching for the light of a lighthouse in the middle of a storm.
Hiko holds him by the shoulders tightly, shaking him in one firm motion to get him upright again. In response, the boy holds on to him by inertia, his fingers squeezing hard into his teacher's arms, as if his life depended on it. His gaze remains unfocused. In the middle of the sea he has found something to hold on to, but it is still not enough the waves threaten to submerge him again.
"Look at me, Kenshin! Look at me!" The man orders.
Kenshin finally looks at him. His master's strong ki crushes him immobile. His breathing is still fast, however. The eldest wastes no time in dominating him. It's not the first time this has happened after all, he says to himself, still feeling the tremors in his pupil's body.
"Breathe Kenshin" he orders with a firm voice, forcing the minor to imitate his gestures. "Breathe with me, do it slowly and deeply."
Hiko inspires, Kenshin imitates him.
Hiko exhales, Kenshin imitates him again.
Inhale. Exhale.
The boy's lower lip trembles as he lets the air out -a sob still stuck in his throat- the tears fall again, and he forces himself to follow his teacher's instructions.
"Breathe" Hiko insists with his gaze fixed on his student's. "Breathe."
Inhale. Exhale.
Kenshin tightens his eyelids after several exhalations... he has managed to recover some control of himself, and he forces himself to concentrate on his own breathing; he knows that he is still prey to the fear of that dream after continuing to notice the accelerated beating of his heart.
Inhale. Exhale.
Finally, the panic ends up leaving him with a last shaky exhalation; the heart recovers its usual tum tum, the pulse slows. Finally, that knot is undone...
What remains after is just crying.
And an immeasurable sadness.
Hiko sighs, aware that the worst is over; he just remains still, and silent until Kenshin's crying is reduced to small sighs.
"What was this time?" His teacher asks after leaving the pertinent silence pass.
The minor remains silent, however. The dark-haired man doesn't lose detail of the change in the redhead's ki, how he jumped for a brief moment after the question, as if it hurt him to have to remember it.
If only he knew how right he was...
That horrible image...
Kenshin trembles, feeling a chill run through his body. Unable to speak, he ends up shaking his head.
He can't… Not yet… He doesn't want to have to talk about that horrible nightmare. Because it was a nightmare, he convinces himself.
Just a nightmare.
Hiko doesn't press the matter any further; he remains a safe presence at his pupil's side, until he manages to calm down. Even when Kenshin goes back to bed, his teacher stays awake, sitting some distance away from his futon.
It is an image already known to Kenshin since he was eight years old, when his teacher had welcomed him. When nightmares had plagued him without fail every night until he was eleven. In a certain way, he continues to feel like that same little boy, and ends up being thankful that that gesture of the man at his side remains even now.
When sleep finally envelops his student again, Hiko pours himself a cup of sake and frowns after drinking it.
It has a bad taste.
A/N: so far... I'm working on how to turn this into a doujinshi, any ideas?