Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Red Death ❯ Angels and Demons ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or the RK Characters; nor do I receive any kind of monetary gains from this, or any of the stories I have written. This is strictly done for my own pleasure and that of the dear readers who honor me with their patronage.
Author Note: Watching the OVA I saw something that was both confusing and intriguing. It led me to believe that either Kenshin was remembering his own sister, or he was being reminded of the three sisters who died trying to protect him during the slaughter of the slavers train. It is most likely the latter, but, being that I enjoy creating my own facts and conclusions, I have altered this perception and given Kenshin an older sister to recall. It offered something meaningful for me to ‘play with’ in his relationship with his sensai... and for later years. KnT
________________________________________________________________ ____________
Chapter Four
Angels and Demons
Suminasen=sorry, deshi=apprentice/student, bokken=wooden sword, shinai=wood/bamboo practice sword, kata=practice routine, sensai=teacher, -kun=Mister for a young boy,
The callouses on her hands screamed in pain as she swung her bokken through habitual, mindless kata, the cadence counting itself off inside her head while her muscles responded to years of repetitious training and physical conditioning. Around her the boys who were her students grunted with the effort to keep up with her grueling pace, sweat trickling down their faces and staining the fabric of their practice gi’s.
Unconsciously, Kaoru was making her young deshi’s pay dearly for her troubled state of mind and heart, pushing them to the very limits of their small bodies power reserves. One by one, they began to falter, giving in to the fatigue that snapped at their heels.
“Sensai,” Nodekai, the oldest of the five at thirteen, finally lowered his shinai and hung his head in defeat. “We can go no further.” He said, the humility in his voice a burden on his young soul. “It is enough and we must stop... please, understand. We are not weak, but whatever drives you today is beyond our means to stay with. We are finished.”
“I... nani?” Kaoru turned glazed eyes on the young boy and blinked, trying to pull his exhausted face into focus. His dark hair was plastered to a sweat soaked forehead, the usually bright brown eyes dull. Lowering her bokken, she trailed her glance over the other four boys and found them in similar condition. Young Takimo knelt on the floor, leaning heavily on his shinai, his slender shoulders shuddering with the exertion of his labored breaths. The light green of his gi stained the color of the deep sea with the sweat from his body.
She had pushed them to their breaking points and beyond.
“Suminasen,” the apology tumbled over her lips and she dropped to her knees, her bokken laying in front of her. “I was not aware...” The words froze in her mouth as smears of blood across the smooth wood of her weapon caught her attention. Jaw muscles clenched, she turned her hands over and stared at the abused flesh covering her palms. Though long used to the feel and work of the weapon, she had also pushed her own body beyond its limits.
“Sensai?” Nodekai knelt at her side, reaching out to cup her hands in his own. “I... I’ve never seen you bleed before.” He said in a hushed voice.
“It has been many years.” She replied, closing her fingers over the ruptured callouses, feeling the sticky texture of the blood slide under the rough tips. Pulling away from the boy’s concern, Kaoru clutched one fist to her breast, the other a tight ball in her lap. “Our time is over today.” She said, in a small yet hard voice. “Go home. Nodekai-kun?”
“Sensai?”
“Make certain Takimo-chan and the others get home safely.”
“Hai, Sensai.” The boy bowed low, touching his forehead to the floor, then stood and motioned for his classmates to join him. “Shouldn’t we stay and help you clean the do-jo?” He asked. “You can’t do it alone with your hands like that.”
“Iie,” she shook her head, rising to her feet, the bokken held loosely in her bloodied grasp. “Do as I ask, and see the younger boys home. I will see to the do-jo.”
“Let me at least help you wrap your hands... Sensai, you need salve and bandages...”
“...and I will attend to it, Nodekai-kun.” Kaoru’s face hardened as she locked eyes with her student. “You are all exhausted in both body and mind. Go home, I will take care of the do-jo.”
“Hai, Sensai.” The flash of rebellious determination flickered and died in Nodekai’s eyes as he motioned for the others to follow him to the door. “We will be back tomorrow.”
“Hai,” Kaoru nodded. “Tomorrow.” Then she turned away, walking toward the rack that held her father’s swords, kneeling in front of it, her head bowed. It was as close to a holy shrine for her as going to the temple. The boys exchanged worried looks, each knowing the other’s thoughts.
Their sensai was spending more and more time with her shrine and the ghosts of the dead than she was existing in the real world with the souls of the living. She was drifting away from them. The bright, laughter-filled girl who taught them the Kassien Ryuu was all but gone, and in her place was a specter, a doppleganger, a stranger.
Kamiya Kaoru was wasting away before their eyes, and they knew not what to do to prevent it.
O.O
Beneath the Demon lay buried an Angel. An Angel with a soul made of purest light and perfect love. He was magnificence itself. Exaltation and redemption woven into a being of such beauty and power, she knew she had to find a way to save him. But to do so, she realized she had to find him.
‘Where are you, Shinta? Where are you, my Mononoke?’
O.O
The first Principle of Hiten Mitsurugi. A sword swung in my name, shall be swung for the people of the world to prevent the shedding of innocent blood.
“Master...” He gritted his teeth as he dumped another bucket full of cold water over his head, drenching himself head to foot. The cloth of his dark blue gi clung to his chest and back, sucking up against his skin, molding to his lithe frame. His hakama hung loose, droplets of water dripping from the hem onto the floor and his feet. Around him, the puddle glistened a faint pink in the flickering of the candlelight.
His intended target had not given up his life easily this night, and Kenshin found himself crossing blades with an experienced, and well trained swordsman. The outcome of the battle was decided at the first pass of steel, but the young hitokiri was forced to use more than one strike to serve Heaven’s Justice upon the proud, and determined Daimya. As a result, he was covered with the blood of his victim. It clung to his hair, spattered across his clothing, and stained the soft gray of his hakama. However, the bloodied clothes were the least of Kenshin’s worries. It was the blood on his face that concerned him the most.
It wouldn’t wash off.
The bloodied hand print, marring the perfection of his right cheek, remained despite the thorough dousing of four buckets. The glacial surface of the water in the barrel bore testament to the fact as he looked hard into the glaring eyes of his own reflection.
“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu... Sou Ryu Sen!”
Kenshin lunged forward, red hair streaming through the frosted air behind him like a bloodied banner snapping in the wind, his sword sliding free of its sheath with barely a sound. Slicing it, flat blade, across the front of his body, he blocked the streaking downward thrust of Daimya Shindo’s plunging katana, parrying it to the side as if it were not more than a drifting willow branch. Then, bringing his left arm to bear, he swung his saya in a smooth, fluid motion that slammed the length of iron into the side of the Daimya’s head.
Bones crunched, the eye that blinked so wide and surprised bulged from its socket and spilled out onto a cheek stretched wide with a scream of pain. Blood spurted from the yawning mouth as the bones caved in, slicing through flesh and cartilage.
“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu... Ryu Kan Sen-Kogarashi!”
Spinning on the ball of his foot, Kenshin whirled away from the stumbling Daimya only to come full circle, launching his body forward, he smashed his sword across the large man’s exposed back. The blade cut deeply into the muscles, separating bones, and severing the spinal cord as it cleaved through with lightening speed and then pulled free.
Daimya Shindo crumbled to the ground at Kenshin’s feet, blood pooling around his still form. The sound of his wet breathing rattled in the hitokiri’s heightened senses like rice paper rasping in a broken window frame, and the boy knelt next to the dying man, his golden eyes gazing with dispassionate pity upon the once proud swordsman.
“Heaven’s Justice has been served upon you, Daimya Shindo,” he said, wiping the blood from his katana and then sheathing it with quiet skill. “Your unrighteous tyranny is at an end.”
“Un-right-ous...” the dying man gasped for breath as his shattered lungs struggled to function around the rising blood smothering him. “You sp-speak of un-righteous when it is you who com-mits the great-est blas-phemies of all... Bat-tou-sai...” He lunged upward and grabbed the front of Kenshin’s gi, pulling him down into his world of blood and death. “Your soul... will rot in hell...” His eyes fluttered and as his spirit struggled free of his mangled body, Daimya Shindo stretched out his hand and wiped his blood across his murderer’s face. “...in hell...”
“Angel...” he whispered, gripping the edge of the barrel, clamping his eyes shut to ward off the image of his stained flesh. “Help me... make it go away.”
O.O
Memories of Snow
“What was her name again, Kenshin?”
“Nani?” The boy looked up from polishing his sword, his large amethyst eyes wide and questioning. “Who, Master?”
“Your sister... what was her name?”
“Nozomi.” He replied, returning to the katana, his features carefully blank. “Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason,” The tall, dark-haired man heaved himself up off the floor and strolled to the tall shelves lining one wall of the small hut he shared with his young deshi, and after flipping the long white cloak he wore aside, he took two jugs of sake down. He then turned to cast a measured gaze upon the quiet thirteen year old sitting by the fire. “You were talking in your sleep again last night,” he said. “It has been sometime since you succumbed to that... weakness.”
“Gomen nasai, Master.” The boy flinched, his lean shoulders jerking the slightest as his hand tightened over the blade of his sword. “I... I did not mean to disturb you.” He shifted, turning his back to the fire and reaching for his saya. The blade slid inside the sheath easily, the quiet ‘shuushing’ of the gleaming metal scraping against the polished wood as it disappeared. “I had a nightmare.”
“A nightmare?” Seijuro Hiko, 13th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, raised one finely arched black eyebrow, staring at the rigid back of the now silent boy. “It is not usually your sister’s name that falls from your lips when you run through your nightmares, Kenshin.” Hiko resumed his position in front of the fire, grunting as he sat down on the floor. “Tell me about this nightmare.” He said, pulling the cork from one of the jugs and pouring himself a liberal dish of the alcohol. “Why has Nozomi come to haunt you?”
“She is not haunting me, Master.” The boy’s voice was sharp, the edge biting at his respect for the older man. “I was dreaming about the last harvest we had on my father’s farm. It was the last time I saw her alive.”
“Hnn,” Hiko watched the boy, there was a muscle jumping along the angular jaw line that bespoke his inner turmoil and rising emotions. He did not like talking about his nightmares. “What happened in the dream, Kenshin?” Hiko was prodding; a dangerous thing to do with Kenshin sometimes, but the boy needed to learn to face the demons of his past if he was ever going to conquer them. “What happened to Nozomi?”
“It doesn’t matter,” the boy muttered, jerking his katana hard against his chest and staring sullenly out the window. “It’s snowing again.” He said, “Isn’t it early for snow?”
“Iie, you know the first snows come early.” Hiko poured himself another dish of sake and narrowed his gaze at the boy. He was stubborn. “Tell me about your sister, Kenshin. The more you flee from your fears, the more life you will give them.”
“I am not afraid!” The words lashed out, hot and defiant. Lavender eyes flashed angry in the firelight while delicate nostrils flared with a rush of heated breath. “I told you, it doesn’t matter...”
“But it does matter, Kenshin. If it brought you back to the world of talking and calling out in your sleep, it definitely matters.” Hiko was losing his patience and the tinge of a snarl laced his words. “You cannot hide from your dreams behind the edge of your sword.” He scoffed, waving a hand at the way the boy clutched the katana before him like a shield. “It will not save you in the land of your mind. Now, stop behaving like a terrified infant and tell me what you saw.”
“It wasn’t real,” he whispered, turning disturbed eyes back to the window. “It couldn’t be real... it never happened.”
“What never happened?”
“We were pulling daikon radishes, I remember, they were so big they filled my whole hand. I could only carry one at a time, but Zomi made me feel like I was such a big help... she always did that, because Takenai would constantly tell me what a sorry excuse for a farmer I was going to be. He never said anything nice to me, never...”
“He was your brother, Kenshin. From what you’ve told me, Takenai was about seven years older than you. To him, you were a bothersome child, nothing more. However, in his heart, you know he loved you.”
“Hai, I suppose, but I never understood why he was so mean otherwise...”
“Because that is the way brothers are.” Hiko let a sad smile slip over his features. Too many of Kenshin’s memories of his long-dead family were unhappy; at least to his mind. He would understand better when he was older. “What else happened?”
“I could see Otou-san in the distance. He was harvesting the carrots and I remember him waving to us. The sun was setting behind him, and he shouted we needed to hurry before we lost the daylight. Zomi patted my head and told me we were almost done. I was glad because I was so tired and my arms hurt from pulling the radishes. We turned and picked up the basket between us and moved to the next row... that’s when I heard them.”
“Who?”
“The Bandits.”
“Bandits? What bandits?”
“The ones that attacked the Slavers Train and murdered everyone...” Kenshin drew in a shuddering breath and gripped his katana tighter. “They came crashing out of the trees and attacked us. I watched Takenai pull his sword and start to fight... Nozomi picked me up and we were running through the garden for the house. She was screaming for Otou-san... screaming for help... then we were falling... it seemed like we fell forever. When we hit the ground, for a moment... she-she looked like Sakura-dono, then she was just Zomi again. The bandit’s sword was sticking out of her throat, and she was bleeding all over me. Her eyes were still alive and she was trying to whisper something to me, but I couldn’t understand it. There was too much blood in her mouth. Then... then she was gone and I was alone in the middle of the radish furrow. The Bandits were gone, Takenai was gone... everything was gone. It was like the whole world disappeared...”
“What happened to Nozomi, Kenshin? Was she there when your family died in the plagues?”
“Iie, I... I don’t really remember, but I don’t think so.”
“Where did she go? Do you know?”
“She was the eldest of us and old enough to marry,” he said, looking back up at the window, a wistful look spilling over his fine features. “I remember a man coming to take her away one day. I cried and cried, but she left anyway. I never saw her again. I was only four or five years old...”
“Hnn,” Hiko, rubbed his jaw, wondering. “So she may have escaped the plagues.”
“Nani?” The boy sounded confused and turned from the window to face his master. “Escaped?”
“Hai, Kenshin.” Once more Hiko filled his dish with sake and drank. “If she was not at the farm with your family when the illness swept through, she may yet be alive... it is a possibility, although that does not explain why you would be having nightmares about her. That is still a mystery.”
“Perhaps, I just feel alone, Master.” Kenshin cast a pensive look at the large man. “Sometimes, I... I miss them. My family.”
“I understand that, Kenshin. Do you, perhaps, feel... abandoned by them?”
“Abandoned?”
“Hai. Do you feel as if they left you behind without the right to do so? Could that be why you are dreaming about Nozomi disappearing and leaving you alone in the radish field? Could that be why the whole world disappeared and left you alone... because you feel abandoned?”
“I...” Kenshin paused, his large eyes searching the room as if the answer lay hidden in the shadows. “I don’t know, Master. Would not my being here with you make those feelings go away?”
“I don’t know, Kenshin.” Hiko watched his deshi closely. “You are the only one who harbors the answer to that question. Until you are prepared to face the demons and fears of your childhood, you may never know the truth behind your nightmares. No one can fight those battles for you... not even I. They must be conquered by your own inner strengths. If you do not succeed on your own, those demons that dwell within you, will grow, become stronger, and one day rise up to consume you. Do you understand?”
“Hai, Master.” Kenshin hung his head and nodded. “I will find a way.”
“I pray to Kami-sama that you do, Kenshin, for you are the only one who can.”
O.O
‘Angel, help me! Make it go away!’
“Make what go away, Shinta?” Kaoru cried, grabbing at her throat, spinning in a terrified circle, scanning the yard for signs of the frightened child, but saw nothing. The icy fear clutched at her heart, squeezing her until she felt pain when she tried to breath. She knew the Battousai had killed again; she had seen him. She knew about the bloody hand that touched his face; she had felt it slide across her own skin and the horror of that sensation sent her out into the grass, vomiting what was left of her dinner into the dirt.
His soul had clenched into a ball of tightest pain, filling her with icy blades of agony as he fled the scene, taking her horrified soul with him. Then, just when she was certain she could bear no more, he severed the link and left her sobbing and panting, huddled alone in the muss of her futon, blood streaking her face and staining her clothes. Now his heart was reaching out for her again... his inner most secret soul was calling for her to save him.
‘Help me, Angel! Make it go away!’
“Where are you?” She sobbed, falling to her knees, the hard wood of the engawa bruising her skin. “I can’t help you if I can’t find you...” Her hands folded into fists as her forehead slid over the cold wood. “Tell me where you are... tell me...”
‘It won’t come off... it won’t...’
“Shinta!” Kaoru leaned back and screamed to the starlit sky. “Where are you?!”
‘...where? I... where?’
“I’ll come to you, Beloved.” She whispered, the breeze around her growing icy, slithering closer and winding around her body. “I’ll come where you are, Shinta... I’ll come and be with you, but you have to tell me where... where are you?”
‘You... you will come?’
“Hai. I will come.”
‘I... Merciful Angel... Kyoto... I am in Kyoto...’
“Saiai-Battousai,” she wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes and savoring the icy touch of him. “I am coming, my precious Love.” Her voice was the smallest whisper. “Look for me, Beloved. I am coming.”
‘Angel... my Saiai-Blue Angel...’
This time, the icy embrace did not go away, but remained all night and Kaoru curled into it as if it were the most natural thing for her to do. It was home.
O.O
She needed a new umbrella and a better coat. It would be getting cold in Kyoto and she needed to be prepared for the bitter rains. She also bought several more pair of tabi, knowing her feet would be getting wet more often. It always paid to be prepared.
In her pack she carried two kimono. The rest of her clothes where gi and hakama. She was more used to wearing the uniforms than the gowns as it was, and she was by far more comfortable in them. The dark blue pants and gi she wore for the voyage were getting her some odd looks, but she brushed them aside. With the new coat she just purchased, at least she was warm, which was more than she could say for the other woman on the ship. A kimono was pretty, but not very serviceable when it came to bad weather, and a four day ship ride in the wind and rain was not her ideal of practical kimono surroundings. She’d stay with her gi and hakama.
The days passed, the rolling of the waves lulling her into a feeling of monotony that was beyond her level of understanding. She sat in the safety of the bow, her bokken leaning on her chest and shoulder, gazing across the sea as the water crashed into itself, rose high on foaming peaks and crashed again. It was endless and infinite, no two waves exactly the same, yet the repetition was mindless and mesmerizing.
It passed the time.
The nights, however, were much different. Kaoru would lay motionless in her bunk, watching the play of water and light reflections on the ceiling of her cabin, waiting... waiting for Him to come to her. And always about the same time He would slither under the door, across the floor, onto her bunk, and then swirl into an ever solidifying mass around her, covering her, holding her, cradling her. Only then did she sleep, curled in the sanctity of his embrace, her cheek nestled in the icy hollow of his throat.
He was getting closer, so close she swore she could feel his heart beating beneath her palm where it rested upon his frozen chest. The steady thud-thud calming her, reassuring her, singing her into a restful sleep, while the cold bands of his arms held her firm against the strength of his body.
She was safe. The cold no longer burned her flesh. The love in his heart protected her from that. All she felt now was the overwhelming peace of belonging... of being home... of being loved.
He needed her and she needed him, and for those reasons, Kaoru knew she made the right choice. Her Demon-Angel was worth saving. Her beloved Battousai... her Shinta... would he know her, she wondered, snuggling into the firming essence of him, smelling the faint ginger spice that drifted of the ghostly hair beneath her cheek. Would he be waiting at the docks when she arrived, or would she have to search the streets for him? Would he be there? Would he...?
‘I will be there...’
“Will you?”
‘Hai, my love... and I will know you... I would always know you.’
“But how?”
‘Your eyes, my Angel. I will know you by your eyes... blue oceans of innocent deliverance... my salvation...’
“My eyes?” She blinked, confused. “But you have never seen them... have you?”
‘Hai, I have... they live in my blade... and my dreams.’
“Y-your blade?” Kaoru turned into his chest, shuddering. “I didn’t know...” Her fingers clutched at his hair, slipping through the almost silk. “I-I see your eyes too,” she whispered. “In my dreams... they are like... like lanterns in the night... or liquid gold. So beautiful... and frightening...”
‘Frightening?’ he sounded dismayed. ‘Please, Angel... don’t ever be afraid of me... I would never hurt you... not you...’ The icy embrace tightened and a tender, cold kiss brushed her forehead. ‘I-I love you.’
“I am not afraid of you,” she whispered, nuzzling him. “I am only afraid of who you become when... when you kill. He is so... ruthless, so merciless... he frightens me.”
‘But... he is me, Angel. We are one in the same, he and I...’
“Iie!” She was emphatic. “You are not the same. You have created him to be the hitokiri, but he is not YOU! Not the real you...”
‘Be that as it may, Saiai... He is a part of me... He exists in my soul...’
“Iie! I will not believe it...”
‘Hush,’ his hands stroked her hair, her back, her arm, and shoulders, comforting her upset. ‘Hush, my love... you will be here soon and we will be together. Everything will be alright then. Do not upset yourself like this, you’re breaking my heart... what heart I have left... be still, Angel, be still. Sleep and think of our meeting in the morning. I will be on the docks waiting for you... I will be there... look for me... I will be there...’
O.O
The ship docked in Kyoto bay midmorning and Kaoru was standing on deck, leaning over the railing, looking into the crowd of people waiting below. He was down there among them somewhere, she could feel him, his eyes watched for her just as hers searched for him. Was he right? Would they know each other? In her heart she believed she would know him, but in truth, would she? Her heart thundered with anxiety as the dock hands tied the ship to the pier. It was soon now.
Her hands trembled, the fingers fumbling like so many thumbs as she grappled with her pack, dropping it several times before finally clutching it to her chest. The breath in her lungs was labored and whistled through her parted lips in short little gasps as her anticipation escalated with the lowering of the gangplank.
‘Can I do this?’ She asked herself, as she forced her leaded feet toward the exit. ‘Can I truly become the lover of a murderer? Kami-sama...’ Stepping off the ship, she took care walking down the narrow plank until she reached shore, and then moved onto dry land. All around her people rushed forward to greet loved ones or bow in welcome to the odd acquaintance or business associate, and one by one the crowd began to dissipate.
“You are here...” The voice behind her was a soft tenor, gentle and hesitant in its mannerism as it reached out to caress her ears. “I... it is you, is it not? Angel?”
Kaoru turned slowly and faced the owner of that gentle voice, catching her breath as she gazed into the adult features of her tortured angelic child. The same flaming red hair danced across his forehead and feathered over his cheeks as the breeze blew the silken strands into a whispery flight around his head. The brilliance of his golden eyes bore hopefully into her face, a hint of fear peering from their shimmering depths as he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He was a small man, only a few short inches taller than herself and not heavily muscled at all. Even so, she knew there was a deceptive amount of strength hidden in his body, and Kaoru felt a tightening of the muscles in her stomach in response to him.
Dark blue gi and gray hakama covered him, while dark colored tabi kept his feet warm in the cooling weather. His katana and wagizasha were tucked snugly inside his belt and hung accessible at his left side. The majority of his chest was exposed, flawless and unscarred. In fact, to her eyes, there was not one mark on him except for a single scar marring the smoothness of his left cheek. If not for that, he would have been perfect.
“Hai,” she took a halting step toward him, her hand lifting of its own volition. “It is I... Shinta.”
“Shinta?” He replied, his voice laced with confusion and pain. “How do you know that name?”
“You told it to me.” She said, tenderly laying her hand over the scar on his face. He flinched beneath her touch but did not move. “The night you came to me as a child, you told me... should I call you something else?” She asked, tilting her head, looking into his troubled face.
“I... my name is Kenshin.” He said, covering her hand with his own and turning his face into her palm. “But you may call me whatever you wish, Angel. I don’t mind.”
“Kenshin?” She tasted the new name, letting it slide over her tongue and feeling the sound of it inside her mind. “It suits you, Saiai.” She said, dropping her pack so she could cup the other side of his face. “Shinta is a child’s name and I can see you are no longer a child... indeed, you are not.”
“Iie, Saiai,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss into her hand. “I am not a child.” Slowly he let his gaze move to lock with hers. “Are you afraid of me?” He asked, worry etching his voice. “Now that you can see my face for what it is, are you afraid?”
“I am not afraid,” she said, brushing the hair off his face, feeling him flinch once more. “Does my touch offend you?” Her eyes filled with concern and she started to pull away. “I-I won’t if it does.”
“Iie!” He pulled her back when she would have stepped away. “Don’t! Gomen, koishii,” he dropped his head onto her shoulder and heaved a deep sigh. “Gomen nasai. Please, don’t pull away... I... I... it has been years since I allowed anyone to touch me...”
“Years?” She was aghast. “Why?”
“I... am unworthy of such a blessing.” He said, his voice muffled by her gi. “The touch of another human being is reserved only for those whose souls are untainted by the sins of blood... only one who may kneel before Kami-sama unashamed should be blessed with such a sacrament. I-I am not so unstained.”
“Oh, Kenshin.” Kaoru wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, holding him as much as he would allow. “Saiai, none of us are as unstained as we wish to be... please, let me hold you, let me touch you... let me be with you. I do not find you tainted or unworthy... I-I love you.”
“Angel...” He choked, sliding his free arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him. “I-I love you, too.”
“Do you?” She asked, nuzzling him. “Do you really? Is it the same now that I am here with you and you aren’t just a spirit coming to visit me in the dark of the night? Is it still love that holds you to me?”
“Iie, my love.” He whispered, pulling back to lay a hand along her cheek. “It is not the same. It is more... much, much more.” Leaning into her, Kenshin brushed his nose up against hers and then molded her body full against his, both of his arms folding in around her small body. “You are the heart of me, Angel. The only warmth I remember knowing, and the only grasp on my sanity I have left. I will love you beyond the end of time, until the day the stars fall from the sky and the ocean swallows the world. You are the only thing that matters in my life. I would die for you.”
“Ken-shin...”
Her emotion choked response died as his mouth closed over hers, his fear of touch pushed to the far reaches of his mind while his lips parted and plundered hers. A low moan crawled up her throat while her arms tightened around his neck, her jaw went lax, and he pressed his tongue passed the barrier of her teeth, deepening the kiss and bringing them into a world of closeness neither knew existed til that moment.
Fire and Ice... Heat and Cold... Light and Dark... It was a beginning.
TBC
Author Note: Watching the OVA I saw something that was both confusing and intriguing. It led me to believe that either Kenshin was remembering his own sister, or he was being reminded of the three sisters who died trying to protect him during the slaughter of the slavers train. It is most likely the latter, but, being that I enjoy creating my own facts and conclusions, I have altered this perception and given Kenshin an older sister to recall. It offered something meaningful for me to ‘play with’ in his relationship with his sensai... and for later years. KnT
________________________________________________________________ ____________
Chapter Four
Angels and Demons
Suminasen=sorry, deshi=apprentice/student, bokken=wooden sword, shinai=wood/bamboo practice sword, kata=practice routine, sensai=teacher, -kun=Mister for a young boy,
The callouses on her hands screamed in pain as she swung her bokken through habitual, mindless kata, the cadence counting itself off inside her head while her muscles responded to years of repetitious training and physical conditioning. Around her the boys who were her students grunted with the effort to keep up with her grueling pace, sweat trickling down their faces and staining the fabric of their practice gi’s.
Unconsciously, Kaoru was making her young deshi’s pay dearly for her troubled state of mind and heart, pushing them to the very limits of their small bodies power reserves. One by one, they began to falter, giving in to the fatigue that snapped at their heels.
“Sensai,” Nodekai, the oldest of the five at thirteen, finally lowered his shinai and hung his head in defeat. “We can go no further.” He said, the humility in his voice a burden on his young soul. “It is enough and we must stop... please, understand. We are not weak, but whatever drives you today is beyond our means to stay with. We are finished.”
“I... nani?” Kaoru turned glazed eyes on the young boy and blinked, trying to pull his exhausted face into focus. His dark hair was plastered to a sweat soaked forehead, the usually bright brown eyes dull. Lowering her bokken, she trailed her glance over the other four boys and found them in similar condition. Young Takimo knelt on the floor, leaning heavily on his shinai, his slender shoulders shuddering with the exertion of his labored breaths. The light green of his gi stained the color of the deep sea with the sweat from his body.
She had pushed them to their breaking points and beyond.
“Suminasen,” the apology tumbled over her lips and she dropped to her knees, her bokken laying in front of her. “I was not aware...” The words froze in her mouth as smears of blood across the smooth wood of her weapon caught her attention. Jaw muscles clenched, she turned her hands over and stared at the abused flesh covering her palms. Though long used to the feel and work of the weapon, she had also pushed her own body beyond its limits.
“Sensai?” Nodekai knelt at her side, reaching out to cup her hands in his own. “I... I’ve never seen you bleed before.” He said in a hushed voice.
“It has been many years.” She replied, closing her fingers over the ruptured callouses, feeling the sticky texture of the blood slide under the rough tips. Pulling away from the boy’s concern, Kaoru clutched one fist to her breast, the other a tight ball in her lap. “Our time is over today.” She said, in a small yet hard voice. “Go home. Nodekai-kun?”
“Sensai?”
“Make certain Takimo-chan and the others get home safely.”
“Hai, Sensai.” The boy bowed low, touching his forehead to the floor, then stood and motioned for his classmates to join him. “Shouldn’t we stay and help you clean the do-jo?” He asked. “You can’t do it alone with your hands like that.”
“Iie,” she shook her head, rising to her feet, the bokken held loosely in her bloodied grasp. “Do as I ask, and see the younger boys home. I will see to the do-jo.”
“Let me at least help you wrap your hands... Sensai, you need salve and bandages...”
“...and I will attend to it, Nodekai-kun.” Kaoru’s face hardened as she locked eyes with her student. “You are all exhausted in both body and mind. Go home, I will take care of the do-jo.”
“Hai, Sensai.” The flash of rebellious determination flickered and died in Nodekai’s eyes as he motioned for the others to follow him to the door. “We will be back tomorrow.”
“Hai,” Kaoru nodded. “Tomorrow.” Then she turned away, walking toward the rack that held her father’s swords, kneeling in front of it, her head bowed. It was as close to a holy shrine for her as going to the temple. The boys exchanged worried looks, each knowing the other’s thoughts.
Their sensai was spending more and more time with her shrine and the ghosts of the dead than she was existing in the real world with the souls of the living. She was drifting away from them. The bright, laughter-filled girl who taught them the Kassien Ryuu was all but gone, and in her place was a specter, a doppleganger, a stranger.
Kamiya Kaoru was wasting away before their eyes, and they knew not what to do to prevent it.
O.O
Longing to become one,
yearning for a forbidden touch.
The Fire will seek out the Frozen Wasteland
of a tortured soul,
if only to quench the thirst of its own wretched Heart.
‘Where are you, Beloved?’ She stared at the polished sheath of her father’s sword, clutching her hands into painful knots in her lap. ‘Why have you not come back to me since... since...’ Kaoru bowed her head and felt the heat of a single tear slide down her face. It was more than a week passed the night she cradled the child, Shinta, in her soul, and she was worried. It had come to her that night, the cause for His pain. The reasons he came to her... why she loved him despite the horror he had become.yearning for a forbidden touch.
The Fire will seek out the Frozen Wasteland
of a tortured soul,
if only to quench the thirst of its own wretched Heart.
Beneath the Demon lay buried an Angel. An Angel with a soul made of purest light and perfect love. He was magnificence itself. Exaltation and redemption woven into a being of such beauty and power, she knew she had to find a way to save him. But to do so, she realized she had to find him.
‘Where are you, Shinta? Where are you, my Mononoke?’
O.O
The first Principle of Hiten Mitsurugi. A sword swung in my name, shall be swung for the people of the world to prevent the shedding of innocent blood.
“Master...” He gritted his teeth as he dumped another bucket full of cold water over his head, drenching himself head to foot. The cloth of his dark blue gi clung to his chest and back, sucking up against his skin, molding to his lithe frame. His hakama hung loose, droplets of water dripping from the hem onto the floor and his feet. Around him, the puddle glistened a faint pink in the flickering of the candlelight.
His intended target had not given up his life easily this night, and Kenshin found himself crossing blades with an experienced, and well trained swordsman. The outcome of the battle was decided at the first pass of steel, but the young hitokiri was forced to use more than one strike to serve Heaven’s Justice upon the proud, and determined Daimya. As a result, he was covered with the blood of his victim. It clung to his hair, spattered across his clothing, and stained the soft gray of his hakama. However, the bloodied clothes were the least of Kenshin’s worries. It was the blood on his face that concerned him the most.
It wouldn’t wash off.
The bloodied hand print, marring the perfection of his right cheek, remained despite the thorough dousing of four buckets. The glacial surface of the water in the barrel bore testament to the fact as he looked hard into the glaring eyes of his own reflection.
“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu... Sou Ryu Sen!”
Kenshin lunged forward, red hair streaming through the frosted air behind him like a bloodied banner snapping in the wind, his sword sliding free of its sheath with barely a sound. Slicing it, flat blade, across the front of his body, he blocked the streaking downward thrust of Daimya Shindo’s plunging katana, parrying it to the side as if it were not more than a drifting willow branch. Then, bringing his left arm to bear, he swung his saya in a smooth, fluid motion that slammed the length of iron into the side of the Daimya’s head.
Bones crunched, the eye that blinked so wide and surprised bulged from its socket and spilled out onto a cheek stretched wide with a scream of pain. Blood spurted from the yawning mouth as the bones caved in, slicing through flesh and cartilage.
“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu... Ryu Kan Sen-Kogarashi!”
Spinning on the ball of his foot, Kenshin whirled away from the stumbling Daimya only to come full circle, launching his body forward, he smashed his sword across the large man’s exposed back. The blade cut deeply into the muscles, separating bones, and severing the spinal cord as it cleaved through with lightening speed and then pulled free.
Daimya Shindo crumbled to the ground at Kenshin’s feet, blood pooling around his still form. The sound of his wet breathing rattled in the hitokiri’s heightened senses like rice paper rasping in a broken window frame, and the boy knelt next to the dying man, his golden eyes gazing with dispassionate pity upon the once proud swordsman.
“Heaven’s Justice has been served upon you, Daimya Shindo,” he said, wiping the blood from his katana and then sheathing it with quiet skill. “Your unrighteous tyranny is at an end.”
“Un-right-ous...” the dying man gasped for breath as his shattered lungs struggled to function around the rising blood smothering him. “You sp-speak of un-righteous when it is you who com-mits the great-est blas-phemies of all... Bat-tou-sai...” He lunged upward and grabbed the front of Kenshin’s gi, pulling him down into his world of blood and death. “Your soul... will rot in hell...” His eyes fluttered and as his spirit struggled free of his mangled body, Daimya Shindo stretched out his hand and wiped his blood across his murderer’s face. “...in hell...”
“Angel...” he whispered, gripping the edge of the barrel, clamping his eyes shut to ward off the image of his stained flesh. “Help me... make it go away.”
O.O
A voice soft as mist,
Eyes pale as mornings dawn.
Rose petal lips pursed in life’s sweetest smile,
speak across time, whispering love’s gentle embrace...
‘...brother.’
186 2-The Mountains beyond KyotoEyes pale as mornings dawn.
Rose petal lips pursed in life’s sweetest smile,
speak across time, whispering love’s gentle embrace...
‘...brother.’
Memories of Snow
“What was her name again, Kenshin?”
“Nani?” The boy looked up from polishing his sword, his large amethyst eyes wide and questioning. “Who, Master?”
“Your sister... what was her name?”
“Nozomi.” He replied, returning to the katana, his features carefully blank. “Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason,” The tall, dark-haired man heaved himself up off the floor and strolled to the tall shelves lining one wall of the small hut he shared with his young deshi, and after flipping the long white cloak he wore aside, he took two jugs of sake down. He then turned to cast a measured gaze upon the quiet thirteen year old sitting by the fire. “You were talking in your sleep again last night,” he said. “It has been sometime since you succumbed to that... weakness.”
“Gomen nasai, Master.” The boy flinched, his lean shoulders jerking the slightest as his hand tightened over the blade of his sword. “I... I did not mean to disturb you.” He shifted, turning his back to the fire and reaching for his saya. The blade slid inside the sheath easily, the quiet ‘shuushing’ of the gleaming metal scraping against the polished wood as it disappeared. “I had a nightmare.”
“A nightmare?” Seijuro Hiko, 13th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, raised one finely arched black eyebrow, staring at the rigid back of the now silent boy. “It is not usually your sister’s name that falls from your lips when you run through your nightmares, Kenshin.” Hiko resumed his position in front of the fire, grunting as he sat down on the floor. “Tell me about this nightmare.” He said, pulling the cork from one of the jugs and pouring himself a liberal dish of the alcohol. “Why has Nozomi come to haunt you?”
“She is not haunting me, Master.” The boy’s voice was sharp, the edge biting at his respect for the older man. “I was dreaming about the last harvest we had on my father’s farm. It was the last time I saw her alive.”
“Hnn,” Hiko watched the boy, there was a muscle jumping along the angular jaw line that bespoke his inner turmoil and rising emotions. He did not like talking about his nightmares. “What happened in the dream, Kenshin?” Hiko was prodding; a dangerous thing to do with Kenshin sometimes, but the boy needed to learn to face the demons of his past if he was ever going to conquer them. “What happened to Nozomi?”
“It doesn’t matter,” the boy muttered, jerking his katana hard against his chest and staring sullenly out the window. “It’s snowing again.” He said, “Isn’t it early for snow?”
“Iie, you know the first snows come early.” Hiko poured himself another dish of sake and narrowed his gaze at the boy. He was stubborn. “Tell me about your sister, Kenshin. The more you flee from your fears, the more life you will give them.”
“I am not afraid!” The words lashed out, hot and defiant. Lavender eyes flashed angry in the firelight while delicate nostrils flared with a rush of heated breath. “I told you, it doesn’t matter...”
“But it does matter, Kenshin. If it brought you back to the world of talking and calling out in your sleep, it definitely matters.” Hiko was losing his patience and the tinge of a snarl laced his words. “You cannot hide from your dreams behind the edge of your sword.” He scoffed, waving a hand at the way the boy clutched the katana before him like a shield. “It will not save you in the land of your mind. Now, stop behaving like a terrified infant and tell me what you saw.”
“It wasn’t real,” he whispered, turning disturbed eyes back to the window. “It couldn’t be real... it never happened.”
“What never happened?”
“We were pulling daikon radishes, I remember, they were so big they filled my whole hand. I could only carry one at a time, but Zomi made me feel like I was such a big help... she always did that, because Takenai would constantly tell me what a sorry excuse for a farmer I was going to be. He never said anything nice to me, never...”
“He was your brother, Kenshin. From what you’ve told me, Takenai was about seven years older than you. To him, you were a bothersome child, nothing more. However, in his heart, you know he loved you.”
“Hai, I suppose, but I never understood why he was so mean otherwise...”
“Because that is the way brothers are.” Hiko let a sad smile slip over his features. Too many of Kenshin’s memories of his long-dead family were unhappy; at least to his mind. He would understand better when he was older. “What else happened?”
“I could see Otou-san in the distance. He was harvesting the carrots and I remember him waving to us. The sun was setting behind him, and he shouted we needed to hurry before we lost the daylight. Zomi patted my head and told me we were almost done. I was glad because I was so tired and my arms hurt from pulling the radishes. We turned and picked up the basket between us and moved to the next row... that’s when I heard them.”
“Who?”
“The Bandits.”
“Bandits? What bandits?”
“The ones that attacked the Slavers Train and murdered everyone...” Kenshin drew in a shuddering breath and gripped his katana tighter. “They came crashing out of the trees and attacked us. I watched Takenai pull his sword and start to fight... Nozomi picked me up and we were running through the garden for the house. She was screaming for Otou-san... screaming for help... then we were falling... it seemed like we fell forever. When we hit the ground, for a moment... she-she looked like Sakura-dono, then she was just Zomi again. The bandit’s sword was sticking out of her throat, and she was bleeding all over me. Her eyes were still alive and she was trying to whisper something to me, but I couldn’t understand it. There was too much blood in her mouth. Then... then she was gone and I was alone in the middle of the radish furrow. The Bandits were gone, Takenai was gone... everything was gone. It was like the whole world disappeared...”
“What happened to Nozomi, Kenshin? Was she there when your family died in the plagues?”
“Iie, I... I don’t really remember, but I don’t think so.”
“Where did she go? Do you know?”
“She was the eldest of us and old enough to marry,” he said, looking back up at the window, a wistful look spilling over his fine features. “I remember a man coming to take her away one day. I cried and cried, but she left anyway. I never saw her again. I was only four or five years old...”
“Hnn,” Hiko, rubbed his jaw, wondering. “So she may have escaped the plagues.”
“Nani?” The boy sounded confused and turned from the window to face his master. “Escaped?”
“Hai, Kenshin.” Once more Hiko filled his dish with sake and drank. “If she was not at the farm with your family when the illness swept through, she may yet be alive... it is a possibility, although that does not explain why you would be having nightmares about her. That is still a mystery.”
“Perhaps, I just feel alone, Master.” Kenshin cast a pensive look at the large man. “Sometimes, I... I miss them. My family.”
“I understand that, Kenshin. Do you, perhaps, feel... abandoned by them?”
“Abandoned?”
“Hai. Do you feel as if they left you behind without the right to do so? Could that be why you are dreaming about Nozomi disappearing and leaving you alone in the radish field? Could that be why the whole world disappeared and left you alone... because you feel abandoned?”
“I...” Kenshin paused, his large eyes searching the room as if the answer lay hidden in the shadows. “I don’t know, Master. Would not my being here with you make those feelings go away?”
“I don’t know, Kenshin.” Hiko watched his deshi closely. “You are the only one who harbors the answer to that question. Until you are prepared to face the demons and fears of your childhood, you may never know the truth behind your nightmares. No one can fight those battles for you... not even I. They must be conquered by your own inner strengths. If you do not succeed on your own, those demons that dwell within you, will grow, become stronger, and one day rise up to consume you. Do you understand?”
“Hai, Master.” Kenshin hung his head and nodded. “I will find a way.”
“I pray to Kami-sama that you do, Kenshin, for you are the only one who can.”
O.O
A warrior bound by Honor,
a soul gilded in purpose,
a heart wounded by guilt.
Duty before penance.
A blade of folded steel,
weighed, balanced, ready,
an edge keen as God’s wrath.
A tool of war and submission.
The executioner’s hand hesitates...
A life meant to die is spared.
Is it failure, dishonor...
Or is it Atonement?
Is the wielder forgiven or damned?
Only God may pass penance,
for the man has already judged himself.
There is no forgiveness for the Damned.
She heard him. Clear, concise, as if he were standing next to her and shouting.a soul gilded in purpose,
a heart wounded by guilt.
Duty before penance.
A blade of folded steel,
weighed, balanced, ready,
an edge keen as God’s wrath.
A tool of war and submission.
The executioner’s hand hesitates...
A life meant to die is spared.
Is it failure, dishonor...
Or is it Atonement?
Is the wielder forgiven or damned?
Only God may pass penance,
for the man has already judged himself.
There is no forgiveness for the Damned.
‘Angel, help me! Make it go away!’
“Make what go away, Shinta?” Kaoru cried, grabbing at her throat, spinning in a terrified circle, scanning the yard for signs of the frightened child, but saw nothing. The icy fear clutched at her heart, squeezing her until she felt pain when she tried to breath. She knew the Battousai had killed again; she had seen him. She knew about the bloody hand that touched his face; she had felt it slide across her own skin and the horror of that sensation sent her out into the grass, vomiting what was left of her dinner into the dirt.
His soul had clenched into a ball of tightest pain, filling her with icy blades of agony as he fled the scene, taking her horrified soul with him. Then, just when she was certain she could bear no more, he severed the link and left her sobbing and panting, huddled alone in the muss of her futon, blood streaking her face and staining her clothes. Now his heart was reaching out for her again... his inner most secret soul was calling for her to save him.
‘Help me, Angel! Make it go away!’
“Where are you?” She sobbed, falling to her knees, the hard wood of the engawa bruising her skin. “I can’t help you if I can’t find you...” Her hands folded into fists as her forehead slid over the cold wood. “Tell me where you are... tell me...”
‘It won’t come off... it won’t...’
“Shinta!” Kaoru leaned back and screamed to the starlit sky. “Where are you?!”
‘...where? I... where?’
“I’ll come to you, Beloved.” She whispered, the breeze around her growing icy, slithering closer and winding around her body. “I’ll come where you are, Shinta... I’ll come and be with you, but you have to tell me where... where are you?”
‘You... you will come?’
“Hai. I will come.”
‘I... Merciful Angel... Kyoto... I am in Kyoto...’
“Saiai-Battousai,” she wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes and savoring the icy touch of him. “I am coming, my precious Love.” Her voice was the smallest whisper. “Look for me, Beloved. I am coming.”
‘Angel... my Saiai-Blue Angel...’
This time, the icy embrace did not go away, but remained all night and Kaoru curled into it as if it were the most natural thing for her to do. It was home.
O.O
Kamiya Dojo temporarily closed.
Master Kamiya Kaoru out of town.
Will notify upon return.
Gomen nasai.
Kaoru nailed the sign up on the gate, placed the tools back in the shed, and then picked up her travel pack and headed for the docks. She bought a ticket for Kyoto on the next ship leaving Tokyo, and waited to board. It would be three hours until it set sail. Just enough time for her to buy a few essentials before departure.Master Kamiya Kaoru out of town.
Will notify upon return.
Gomen nasai.
She needed a new umbrella and a better coat. It would be getting cold in Kyoto and she needed to be prepared for the bitter rains. She also bought several more pair of tabi, knowing her feet would be getting wet more often. It always paid to be prepared.
In her pack she carried two kimono. The rest of her clothes where gi and hakama. She was more used to wearing the uniforms than the gowns as it was, and she was by far more comfortable in them. The dark blue pants and gi she wore for the voyage were getting her some odd looks, but she brushed them aside. With the new coat she just purchased, at least she was warm, which was more than she could say for the other woman on the ship. A kimono was pretty, but not very serviceable when it came to bad weather, and a four day ship ride in the wind and rain was not her ideal of practical kimono surroundings. She’d stay with her gi and hakama.
The days passed, the rolling of the waves lulling her into a feeling of monotony that was beyond her level of understanding. She sat in the safety of the bow, her bokken leaning on her chest and shoulder, gazing across the sea as the water crashed into itself, rose high on foaming peaks and crashed again. It was endless and infinite, no two waves exactly the same, yet the repetition was mindless and mesmerizing.
It passed the time.
The nights, however, were much different. Kaoru would lay motionless in her bunk, watching the play of water and light reflections on the ceiling of her cabin, waiting... waiting for Him to come to her. And always about the same time He would slither under the door, across the floor, onto her bunk, and then swirl into an ever solidifying mass around her, covering her, holding her, cradling her. Only then did she sleep, curled in the sanctity of his embrace, her cheek nestled in the icy hollow of his throat.
He was getting closer, so close she swore she could feel his heart beating beneath her palm where it rested upon his frozen chest. The steady thud-thud calming her, reassuring her, singing her into a restful sleep, while the cold bands of his arms held her firm against the strength of his body.
She was safe. The cold no longer burned her flesh. The love in his heart protected her from that. All she felt now was the overwhelming peace of belonging... of being home... of being loved.
He needed her and she needed him, and for those reasons, Kaoru knew she made the right choice. Her Demon-Angel was worth saving. Her beloved Battousai... her Shinta... would he know her, she wondered, snuggling into the firming essence of him, smelling the faint ginger spice that drifted of the ghostly hair beneath her cheek. Would he be waiting at the docks when she arrived, or would she have to search the streets for him? Would he be there? Would he...?
‘I will be there...’
“Will you?”
‘Hai, my love... and I will know you... I would always know you.’
“But how?”
‘Your eyes, my Angel. I will know you by your eyes... blue oceans of innocent deliverance... my salvation...’
“My eyes?” She blinked, confused. “But you have never seen them... have you?”
‘Hai, I have... they live in my blade... and my dreams.’
“Y-your blade?” Kaoru turned into his chest, shuddering. “I didn’t know...” Her fingers clutched at his hair, slipping through the almost silk. “I-I see your eyes too,” she whispered. “In my dreams... they are like... like lanterns in the night... or liquid gold. So beautiful... and frightening...”
‘Frightening?’ he sounded dismayed. ‘Please, Angel... don’t ever be afraid of me... I would never hurt you... not you...’ The icy embrace tightened and a tender, cold kiss brushed her forehead. ‘I-I love you.’
“I am not afraid of you,” she whispered, nuzzling him. “I am only afraid of who you become when... when you kill. He is so... ruthless, so merciless... he frightens me.”
‘But... he is me, Angel. We are one in the same, he and I...’
“Iie!” She was emphatic. “You are not the same. You have created him to be the hitokiri, but he is not YOU! Not the real you...”
‘Be that as it may, Saiai... He is a part of me... He exists in my soul...’
“Iie! I will not believe it...”
‘Hush,’ his hands stroked her hair, her back, her arm, and shoulders, comforting her upset. ‘Hush, my love... you will be here soon and we will be together. Everything will be alright then. Do not upset yourself like this, you’re breaking my heart... what heart I have left... be still, Angel, be still. Sleep and think of our meeting in the morning. I will be on the docks waiting for you... I will be there... look for me... I will be there...’
O.O
The ship docked in Kyoto bay midmorning and Kaoru was standing on deck, leaning over the railing, looking into the crowd of people waiting below. He was down there among them somewhere, she could feel him, his eyes watched for her just as hers searched for him. Was he right? Would they know each other? In her heart she believed she would know him, but in truth, would she? Her heart thundered with anxiety as the dock hands tied the ship to the pier. It was soon now.
Her hands trembled, the fingers fumbling like so many thumbs as she grappled with her pack, dropping it several times before finally clutching it to her chest. The breath in her lungs was labored and whistled through her parted lips in short little gasps as her anticipation escalated with the lowering of the gangplank.
‘Can I do this?’ She asked herself, as she forced her leaded feet toward the exit. ‘Can I truly become the lover of a murderer? Kami-sama...’ Stepping off the ship, she took care walking down the narrow plank until she reached shore, and then moved onto dry land. All around her people rushed forward to greet loved ones or bow in welcome to the odd acquaintance or business associate, and one by one the crowd began to dissipate.
“You are here...” The voice behind her was a soft tenor, gentle and hesitant in its mannerism as it reached out to caress her ears. “I... it is you, is it not? Angel?”
Kaoru turned slowly and faced the owner of that gentle voice, catching her breath as she gazed into the adult features of her tortured angelic child. The same flaming red hair danced across his forehead and feathered over his cheeks as the breeze blew the silken strands into a whispery flight around his head. The brilliance of his golden eyes bore hopefully into her face, a hint of fear peering from their shimmering depths as he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He was a small man, only a few short inches taller than herself and not heavily muscled at all. Even so, she knew there was a deceptive amount of strength hidden in his body, and Kaoru felt a tightening of the muscles in her stomach in response to him.
Dark blue gi and gray hakama covered him, while dark colored tabi kept his feet warm in the cooling weather. His katana and wagizasha were tucked snugly inside his belt and hung accessible at his left side. The majority of his chest was exposed, flawless and unscarred. In fact, to her eyes, there was not one mark on him except for a single scar marring the smoothness of his left cheek. If not for that, he would have been perfect.
“Hai,” she took a halting step toward him, her hand lifting of its own volition. “It is I... Shinta.”
“Shinta?” He replied, his voice laced with confusion and pain. “How do you know that name?”
“You told it to me.” She said, tenderly laying her hand over the scar on his face. He flinched beneath her touch but did not move. “The night you came to me as a child, you told me... should I call you something else?” She asked, tilting her head, looking into his troubled face.
“I... my name is Kenshin.” He said, covering her hand with his own and turning his face into her palm. “But you may call me whatever you wish, Angel. I don’t mind.”
“Kenshin?” She tasted the new name, letting it slide over her tongue and feeling the sound of it inside her mind. “It suits you, Saiai.” She said, dropping her pack so she could cup the other side of his face. “Shinta is a child’s name and I can see you are no longer a child... indeed, you are not.”
“Iie, Saiai,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss into her hand. “I am not a child.” Slowly he let his gaze move to lock with hers. “Are you afraid of me?” He asked, worry etching his voice. “Now that you can see my face for what it is, are you afraid?”
“I am not afraid,” she said, brushing the hair off his face, feeling him flinch once more. “Does my touch offend you?” Her eyes filled with concern and she started to pull away. “I-I won’t if it does.”
“Iie!” He pulled her back when she would have stepped away. “Don’t! Gomen, koishii,” he dropped his head onto her shoulder and heaved a deep sigh. “Gomen nasai. Please, don’t pull away... I... I... it has been years since I allowed anyone to touch me...”
“Years?” She was aghast. “Why?”
“I... am unworthy of such a blessing.” He said, his voice muffled by her gi. “The touch of another human being is reserved only for those whose souls are untainted by the sins of blood... only one who may kneel before Kami-sama unashamed should be blessed with such a sacrament. I-I am not so unstained.”
“Oh, Kenshin.” Kaoru wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, holding him as much as he would allow. “Saiai, none of us are as unstained as we wish to be... please, let me hold you, let me touch you... let me be with you. I do not find you tainted or unworthy... I-I love you.”
“Angel...” He choked, sliding his free arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him. “I-I love you, too.”
“Do you?” She asked, nuzzling him. “Do you really? Is it the same now that I am here with you and you aren’t just a spirit coming to visit me in the dark of the night? Is it still love that holds you to me?”
“Iie, my love.” He whispered, pulling back to lay a hand along her cheek. “It is not the same. It is more... much, much more.” Leaning into her, Kenshin brushed his nose up against hers and then molded her body full against his, both of his arms folding in around her small body. “You are the heart of me, Angel. The only warmth I remember knowing, and the only grasp on my sanity I have left. I will love you beyond the end of time, until the day the stars fall from the sky and the ocean swallows the world. You are the only thing that matters in my life. I would die for you.”
“Ken-shin...”
Her emotion choked response died as his mouth closed over hers, his fear of touch pushed to the far reaches of his mind while his lips parted and plundered hers. A low moan crawled up her throat while her arms tightened around his neck, her jaw went lax, and he pressed his tongue passed the barrier of her teeth, deepening the kiss and bringing them into a world of closeness neither knew existed til that moment.
Fire and Ice... Heat and Cold... Light and Dark... It was a beginning.
TBC