The night was unusually quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the courtyard of the Kamiya Dojo. Kenshin, moving swiftly and silently through the gate, clutched his side. His hand came away slick with blood, and his breathing was labored. The battle earlier had been fierce, and although he had managed to stop the attackers, the price had been high.

He winced as he stepped inside, careful to keep his movements light. The last thing he wanted was to wake Kaoru and Kenji. The moonlight cast long shadows across the hallway as he made his way to the bathhouse, hoping to clean himself up before anyone saw.

But just as he reached the door, he heard a soft, familiar voice.

"Papa?"

Kenshin's heart sank. He turned to find Kenji standing there, rubbing his eyes. The little boy, clutching his small blanket, looked up at him with sleepy curiosity.

"Kenji… what are you doing up so late?" Kenshin asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he hid his bloodstained hand behind his back.

Kenji yawned. "I heard noises, Papa. Are you okay?"

Kenshin's eyes softened, but his body tensed. He didn't want Kenji to see him like this—not covered in blood, not with the shadows of battle still clinging to him. "I'm fine, Kenji. I just… I was working outside. You should go back to bed."

Kenji squinted, stepping closer. "But why are you hiding, Papa?"

Kenshin forced a smile, crouching down just enough to keep his body angled away from his son. "It's nothing, Kenji. Papa just got a little dirty, that's all."

Kenji reached out, his hand brushing against Kenshin's sleeve. "Papa, you're bleeding!"

Kenshin gently grabbed Kenji's hand, pulling it away before he could see any more. "It's just a small scratch, Kenji. Nothing to worry about."

But Kenji's eyes were wide, and his lip quivered. "Papa, does it hurt? Mama says when I get hurt, it's okay to cry…"

Kenshin's chest tightened. He had faced countless battles, endured more pain than he could remember, but seeing the worry in Kenji's eyes was a wound of its own. He shook his head, keeping his voice calm. "It doesn't hurt, Kenji. And you know what? Papa is really strong, so small scratches don't bother me."

Kenji hesitated, then nodded. "But… can I stay with you?"

Kenshin felt a pang in his heart. He wanted to pull his son close, to comfort him, but he knew he couldn't risk Kenji seeing the state he was in. "Kenji, I promise I'll be with you in just a little while. I just need to clean up first, okay?"

Kenji's small face scrunched up in worry, but he nodded, his trust in his father clear. "Okay, Papa. I'll go back to my room."

Kenshin smiled, his eyes soft. "Thank you, Kenji. And remember, Papa is always here."

Kenji gave a small, sleepy smile and turned back toward his room. "Okay, Papa. I'll wait for you."

Kenshin watched until Kenji disappeared around the corner. As soon as he was out of sight, Kenshin's smile faded, and he moved quickly into the bathhouse. He filled the basin with water, scrubbing away the blood as best he could. The wounds stung, but he clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain. What mattered most was that Kenji didn't see him like this—he never wanted his son to know the kind of violence his hands were capable of.

Once he had cleaned up as much as he could, he wrapped his wounds tightly, hiding the worst of it under fresh clothes. He checked his reflection in the water, ensuring no trace of blood remained. Satisfied, he made his way back to Kenji's room.

Kenji was already tucked under the blankets, his eyes half-closed but still watching the doorway. When Kenshin entered, Kenji's face lit up. "Papa, you're back."

Kenshin sat beside him, stroking his son's hair. "I told you I'd be here, didn't I?"

Kenji nodded, curling up closer to his father. "Papa, will you stay here tonight?"

Kenshin's eyes softened, and he lay down next to Kenji, pulling the blanket over them both. "Of course, Kenji. I'm not going anywhere."

Kenji snuggled into his side, his breathing slowing as he drifted back to sleep. Kenshin watched his son, feeling a deep sense of relief. Despite the battles he fought, the blood he shed, this was where he truly belonged—by his son's side, protecting the peace he had fought so hard to achieve.

As Kenji's breathing evened out, Kenshin whispered a promise to the night. "I'll make sure you never have to see that side of me, Kenji. Not ever."

And for the first time that night, Kenshin felt a sense of calm, knowing he had kept his son safe—both from the world and from the ghosts of his own past.