A/N Songs for this chapter.

Kaoru: Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye ft. Kimbra.

"Now and then, I think of all the times you screwed me over,

but, always had me believing it was always something that I'd done.

And I don't wanna live that way,

reading into every word you say.

You said that you could let it go,

and I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know."

Kenshin: Romeo and Juliet by The Killers

"I can't do the talk, like the talk on the TV,

and I can't do a love song, like the way it's meant to be.

I can't do everything but I'd do anything for you.

I can't do anything except be in love with you."

Kaoru waved to the young man on the shore as the boat pulled away. For a stranger, he had been very kind to her. She should have asked him his name but, that didn't matter now.

Underneath her obi was a tanto dagger. Kaoru felt around underneath the fabric to check if it was still there. Thankfully, she hadn't come all this way only to have left it behind. If she'd left it behind, her resolve would fail her.

The tanto, a delicate, pretty, and almost feminine bauble, was one of the few family heirlooms she had left. It's blade was sharp but Kaoru doubted it had ever been used for its true purpose. Like her, it was pristine and had never drawn blood.

The boat docked at a riverside temple, the final resting place of the person who'd wronged Kaoru most of all. Perhaps it wouldn't be fair to blame Tomoe Yukishiro for her unhappiness, but Kaoru wasn't in the mood to be generous. Enishi had committed his crimes in her name and her ghost haunted Kenshin, preventing him from finding peace or happiness. The fact that the kind-hearted Tomoe wouldn't have wanted any of this was irrelevant.

If the people she'd left behind couldn't rest, then neither should she.

The maple trees on the temple's grounds wore their fiery autumn garments. A gentle breeze made their branches perform a graceful dance. A year ago, when the maple trees in Tokyo were changing color, Kenshin had picked up a particularly large and vibrant leaf and gave it to Kaoru. The leaf was pressed inside a book somewhere in Kaoru's home. It's bright red color was the same as Kenshin's hair.

Looking back, she should have just laughed in his face. What good was a leaf?

The temple had dozens of visitors that day, mostly there to enjoy the pleasant weather. But, luckily, Tomoe's grave was tucked into an out of the corner. Kaoru didn't need an audience for her performance. A passerby might try to stop her.

"Young lady," the well-meaning bystander might stay. "Seppuku isn't for an age like this. And what will your poor parents think?"

Kaoru was a child of the new age, where the rigid principles of Bushido looked trite and out of date, and raised by the philosophy that a weapon should only be raised in defense. But, she couldn't ignore the samurai pride and stubbornness that flowed through her veins and demanded revenge for her slighted honor.

She let the sleeves of her robes fall from her shoulders and drew the tanto from its sheath. When she met her parents again in the next life, she would tell them that the only blood she ever spilled was her own.

Kenshin passed the time during the seventeen-day journey from Tokyo to Kyoto thinking over what he'd said or hadn't said, done or hadn't done, to drive Kaoru away. He wasn't very good at expressing his feelings or reading the feelings of others and all too often used this as an excuse not to try. So it could have been any of his numerous missteps that made his bride leave him.

Kenshin sat down in the grass and waited for the next boat to take him to the temple across the river. He wasn't so dense that he couldn't tell Kaoru was reluctant to marry him. After all, he proposed to her three times before she accepted.

The first time he asked was almost exactly a year ago. They walked into town together and admired the maple trees in their scarlet finery. Kaoru was entranced by the autumn foliage and said, "I wish they could stay like that forever."

A cleverer man than Kenshin might have captured this moment for his sweetheart in a poem or painting. But instead, all Kenshin could do was pick up a fallen leaf and give it to Kaoru.

Her eyes narrowed. Ever since the catfish incident of last Tanabata night, she'd been wary of any gift Kenshin gave her. Kenshin understood her reasons. Often, Kaoru was let down the most by her own expectations.

Kenshin relaxed a little when Kaoru smiled at him. "Am I a caterpiller?" she said. She tucked the maple leaf into her obi.

This was when he asked her to marry him. She laughed, not unkindly, and told him, "My poor Rurouni. After you've had a butterfly, you'll never be satisfied with a caterpiller who'll never leave her cocoon."

Later, Kenshin found that Kaoru had saved the red maple leaf inside one of her books. This gave him hope that she would change her mind. She would stop seeing herself as the caterpillar to Tomoe's butterfly and accept that Kenshin loved her.

He believed she finally had when, after two more tries, she agreed to marry him.

The first thing Kenshin saw of the riverside temple was the fiery maple trees growing around it. He knew this temple and knew where Kaoru would be.

He found her by Tomoe's grave. She'd shrugged off the upper part of her kimono, and her torso was bare aside from her breast bindings. A tanto rested at her throat.

"Kaoru…," Kenshin called to her. She looked at him with indifference and sliced open her neck before he could reach her. "…Kaoru!"

For the second time in his life, Kenshin held a woman he loved in his arms as she bled out.

Kaoru blinked up at him. "Kenshin?" Her wound spurted out blood.

"Shhh Kaoru-dono." Kenshin stroked Kaoru's hair. Her final moments shouldn't be wasted on reproaches.

Kenshin had been devastated when Tomoe died but at least he had the knowledge that there was a better world to fight for. Now, he knew that a world without Kaoru wasn't worth it.

Kaoru's body went limp and cold. Kenshin laid her in the grass. He drew his sword and turned the reverse blade on himself.

"Wait for me, my love," he said.