A/N This is part 2 of a 2 part prequel to The Legend of the Pretty Ronin.
Kaoru crossed the bridge over the koi pond by hopping like a cricket along the railing, they way she used to do as a child. One foot in front of the other; the only thing to worry about was a sprained ankle or a muddy kimono.
A thunder clap almost made her lose her balance. The mirror-like surface of the pond reflected the heavy, grey clouds above. Rain was imminent.
On the other side of the bridge was a path that lead up to a small shrine housing the funeral tablets of Kaoru's parents. It was as good a place as any to get out of the rain. Kaoru knelt in front of parents' funeral tablets. If only she could have brought an offering to appease their offended spirits. A daughter's most important duty to her parents was to make a good marriage and she'd turned down two perfectly suitable offers.
Not two, three. No, that one didn't count.
"Kaoru-Dono…"
Kaoru turned around. Kenshin stood in the shrine's entrance. Though he carried an umbrella, it was still closed and he looked like a drowned cat. Kaoru moved the trailing hem of her kimono out of the way so it wouldn't get dripped on.
"Kenshin?" She said. "You're soaked to the skin. Go back and change before you catch a cold." Stupid Rurouni. Megumi might be happy about taking care of Kenshin while he was sick, but Kaoru wouldn't.
Kenshin didn't budge. "We need to talk," he said.
We need to talk never came before anything good. Kaoru was in no mood to hear it. "Please. Whatever it is, it can wait."
"No it can't."
"Fine." Kaoru rose to her feet and smoothed her skirt. It better be something important like Yahiko being sick or Sano getting arrested.
Kenshin looked down at his feet. "You own a copy of Musashi's Dokkōdō?"
"Yes." The book was a gift from Kaoru's father on her fifteenth birthday. Musashi-Sensei's message of detachment from earthly cares often brought her comfort and encouragement during hard times, even if she struggled to follow his teachings.
"I found a red maple leaf tucked among its pages." Kaoru had used the book to press the leaf Kenshin gave her all those months ago. The gesture meant nothing and the proposal that came with it just a whim of the moment, but Kaoru couldn't bring herself to throw the leaf away. "It gave me hope that you'd change your mind."
"Change my mind about what?"
Kaoru steadied herself against one of the columns that supported the shrine's roof and the long sleeve of her furisode trailed into the downpour outside. Kenshin grabbed the sleeve to get it out of the rain and held onto it a little too long. "Marry me, Kaoru," he said, but Kaoru pulled away from him.
How could he try this with her again? "You sound like you're coming down with a fever already."
"I love you, unlike Takeda-San and Soujiro-Kun." His fingers entwined with hers.
"No you don't." Kaoru now understood him. Kenshin had somehow heard about her other suitors. "You're happy here and you're afraid this all will end if someone else carries me off. But if I were gone, nothing would change. Sano, Megumi, Yahiko, they would all follow you into hell. They don't give a damn about me." Sure, they liked her well-enough and got a few laughs riling her up, but they'd all leave her behind when something better came along. "Why would you want me for your wife? I'm just a sweaty, violent tomboy who can't do anything besides hit people with a bokken, as everyone keeps reminding me." And like she'd said when she rejected him last time, after you've had a butterfly, you'll never be satisfied with a caterpillar who'll never leave her cocoon.
Tomoe had been a perfect goddess. His tragic, star-crossed lover who'd died for him. Kaoru would never be able to compete.
"Is this what you really think?" Kenshin said.
"You never denied it." Kaoru raised an eyebrow. "Whenever Sano or Megumi or Yahiko teased me about being ugly and unfeminine, did you ever try to stop it?"
Kenshin lowered his eyes. No, he hadn't. He'd been too concerned with keeping the peace. A friend to all is a friend to none.
"I would never marry a man who wouldn't stick up for me."
She turned away from him. In the reflective black surfaces of the funeral tablets, she saw him leave. Kenshin left the umbrella he'd been holding at the shrine's entrance.