Kendall Seducing/Flirting with Tom [3x03] for Anon.
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Kendall Seducing/Flirting with Tom [3x03] for Anon.
So here’s my best attempt at coloring the sketch on the new tablet. Attempting a redraw in color! I have absolutely NO idea what I’m doing btw. This was mainly for practice. What are layers?? How do layer? Anyway I chose this one to draw because they look so happy in this pic and I just want good things for both of them *sob*
hi! I wanted to thank you for taking my request 🤗🤗🤗 💓 (kendall flirting with tom) i love when my man is a slut askljgx. *kisses you on the cheek*
omg HI! I want to thank YOU for requesting it!!!
Oh yeah, 100%, Kendall is a slut & a flirt and I feel like Tom is the perfect person to be on the receiving end of it because he is just SO hair-twirly
i mean like -
he is not immune
“I like you, Tom. Good luck.” Kentom real!
This One - Chapter 28/40
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Pairings: Kenshin/Tomoe
Word count: 9065
Chapter summary: Even knowing it was a trap, Kenshin didn’t have any other choice but to follow. Brutal men like these, they wouldn’t hesitate to strike down an unarmed woman after she had outlived her usefulness. No, there was no doubt about it, if he didn’t hurry – Tomoe would die.
Chapter 28 - The Forest of Barriers.
Warnings: violence, major character death
Read the chapter in AO3, FF.net or below the cut!
Chapter 28. The Forest of Barriers
The map was accurate, Kenshin realized. It had lead him to the mountains, right to the point where a trail of geta-made footprints left the road and headed into the thick and unwelcoming forest, dark with shadows even in the bright, midday sun. It wasn’t an easy path to climb either: the ground was uneven and made slippery with snow.
How brave she must have been, coming all this way alone.
She should have woken him up, told him of her troubles. Surely, she must know that he would do anything for her?
But if she knew they were after me, it couldn’t be… was she trying to protect me? Kenshin bit his lip, a wave of guilt flaring in his gut, making him feel distinctly ill.
Because if all she had known was that a group of Shogunate assassins were targeting them… it could have seemed like a fight that couldn’t be won, not through direct confrontation.
After all, she didn’t know about ki, how he could fight like he did. She didn’t know how overwhelmingly powerful Hiten Mitsurugi was against ordinary men. Even in his darkest hours, he had never told her how his agony was caused by the ease of killing, not the difficulty.
No, I never told her anything important. Kenshin scowled, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.
It didn’t make sense to keep the map, not when he could easily follow her tracks. He let the paper fall from his slack fingers into the snow and followed her footsteps into the forest.
However, there was something very wrong with the forest. The thick trees loomed tall and dark around him, leaving him feeling out of sorts, like something crucial was missing – a part of him that he had relied on all his life.
Frowning, Kenshin concentrated, trying to determine why he felt like this…
The snow was soft and cool against his tabi socks, crackling under his every step. The air smelled fresh, clean – but the crisp coldness was making it difficult to breathe in deeply. His chapped lips, gnawed from stress, tasted coppery with blood. No, it was not his sight, his sense of taste, smell or feel that was missing, but…
Biting his lip, Kenshin tried to feel his ki.
Yes, there is the wall… but where is the coldness? Where is Kenta? Kenshin’s breath hitched as panic rose. He couldn’t feel his ki at all! Not his own, not Kenta’s. Not even a bit of it! It simply wasn’t there! The wall that had separated the two, yes – he could feel his side and Kenta’s side as easily as always, but he couldn’t feel a drop of ki anywhere!
Eyes widening with horror, Kenshin finally understood the extent of the plot against him.
It was this forest, this forbidding mountain that he had been lured to. It had to be. He had felt perfectly normal and healthy before he had walked in here. And speaking of ki, where were the animals? There were no birds or rodents anywhere, no tracks or signs of their presence, either. Well, no wonder – the local wildlife would steer clear of a place that stifled the flow of life energy all around them.
There was no doubt about it: this was the reason those men had lured Tomoe here, knowing he didn’t have any option but to follow.
...But even knowing this, I can’t turn back.
If their plot didn’t work, those brutal killers wouldn’t have any further use for Tomoe and they would kill her.
If he didn’t get there in time, Tomoe would die.
Did it matter that he had no ki? No Kenta to surge through the wall and save him? He still had his sword – his training, his experience as a killer. Master had trained him for years with no ki to aid him. So what if he didn’t have the godlike speed, the strength to cut through obstacles? So what if he couldn’t use the special attacks of Hiten Mitsurugi?
So what?
It didn’t matter.
He had his hate, his terrible fury to fuel him. He didn’t need anything else. He was still Hitokiri Battousai and he would save Tomoe.
Yes, I will protect her happiness, just like I promised.
A tiny whiz of wind, the tiniest crunch in the snow was all the warning he got that there was someone behind him. Blindly, he lunged to the left but it was too late – a terrible pain flared in his back.
Gulping for air, Kenshin crouched, ready to attack.
A man stood just few paces from him, dressed all in black and wearing a face mask… just like the assassin from the summer.
So, it was them.
It was an idle observation Kenshin noted along with everything else; the absolute confidence in the man’s posture, the stringy muscularity of his arms, and how he held his katana in a rather unconventional hold. All signs pointing to experience with fighting. Throughout his scrutiny, the man boasted about the brilliance of their plot, how they had lured him into this demon’s forest where no animal lived, where no one but those trained in the dark arts could feel ki.
It was just as I thought, then.
“And now that you have lost half of your power, your back is against the wall!”
Those words grated his nerves like nothing else. With all his hate in his eyes, Kenshin glared at the idiot, “Why… does that matter?” With or without ki, he would kill this man. He would kill them all and save Tomoe!
His hand on the handle of his sword, Kenshin sprinted. His target’s eyes widened and he started to dodge, but he was too slow! Teeth bared in exhilaration, Kenshin drew his blade in perfect battoujutsu – blood spurted from his target’s chest.
A scream echoed through the forest, followed by a thud as the target hit the ground.
Kenshin flicked his wrist to shake most of the blood from his blade, noting coldly that his target wasn’t dead yet. Strange, he had killed countless men with that exact move… something wasn’t right.
His target’s chest was cut open all the way to the solar plexus.The strike hadn’t cut deep enough to kill, but it had cut through flesh and viscera – his target’s lifeblood pumped out with each gulping breath. He would die of blood loss soon enough.
Kenshin frowned and walked closer.
The idiot tried to sit up, to crawl away with desperation in his eyes.
Without a second thought, Kenshin kicked him down.
The target cried out like a wounded dog.
It didn’t matter.
The pain he caused others, the pain and revulsion Kenshin felt in his heart – none of it mattered, because…
“I will protect Tomoe’s happiness. I vowed that only yesterday,” Kenshin whispered, pressing his foot on the target’s wound, pinning him in place. “Where I am or who you are… has nothing to do with it.” Leaning all his weight on his leg, Kenshin watched his target’s eyes roll back from sheer agony. He felt the man’s broken chest crunch beneath his feet, felt his tabi sock become wet with the blood that sprouted out. “I will kill anyone who lifts a hand to stop me!”
His target wheezed like a man on his last breath.
It would be a mercy to kill the bastard right here and now… a mercy this man didn’t deserve. Kenshin glanced behind him thoughtfully. It had begun snowing again. Soon it would be difficult to follow Tomoe’s trail... Reluctantly, he released his target and held out his sword, pointing the tip right between the terrified idiot’s eyes. “Will you take me to Tomoe, or will you die? Choose, now.”
His target stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief… Before the man’s arm tensed and he grinned, “Then try this!”
A flash of movement and a pain flared in Kenshin’s shoulder.
Fuck! Kenshin cursed inwardly and cradled his injury. The bastard had thrown a metal dart into his shoulder and it had sunk at least three inches into his flesh.
“I thought so!” the man gasped proudly. “You didn’t stop a step short, you misjudged your own movements! In this forest you have lost your ki… you are not as strong. In this forest, you can’t win—”
The pain wasn’t too bad, as far as pain went – Kenshin had felt worse during his training and with this terrible hate boiling inside him, this little pain was nothing. Gritting his teeth, Kenshin grabbed the dart and tore it out.
The idiot froze in shock, reaching towards him with his arms still extended and for a second, Kenshin couldn’t see anything but those arms. “I said, WHY DOES THAT MATTER?” he screamed, and whipped his sword out of its sheath in a lightning fast draw.
His sword cut and cut, through bone and flesh and sinews. Two thuds followed as the idiot’s arms hit the ground.
The howling screams that echoed in the forests all around him were just like the cries from the hundreds of men he had killed in Kyoto, Kenshin thought numbly. It was almost familiar. And right then, instead of guilt or gut-wrenching disgust, he couldn’t feel anything but the throbbing pain in his shoulder, the coldness of snow around him, and how his toes prickled as his bloodied socks froze in the snow.
Dazed, Kenshin blinked and drew breath, struggling to focus.
His target had run off, taking advantage of his inattention.
Well, if the idiot was lively enough to run, he can still be of use. Kenshin thought. After all, missing arms, bleeding out… neither of those injuries would hamper the man’s tongue. At the very least he could still give him directions to Tomoe, or tell him what he was up against.
That is, if the idiot could be properly motivated…
Hmm. Kenshin frowned and picked up the man’s separated arms from the snow and followed the bloody trail.
—-—-------
The idiot chose to run into a cave, of all things. Was he hoping to hide? The stupidity! Even if his hunter had been blind, deaf and half-witted, it wouldn’t have worked – the bloody trail in the fresh snow was easy to follow.
Kenshin threw the separated arms to their owner. “You forgot something.”
His target was cowering pitifully at the end of the cave. Surely even an idiot like him had to realize that there was no escape anymore?
“If you won’t take me to Tomoe, at least tell me where she is. Do it and I will give you an easy death.”
His target tensed and met his gaze evenly, his pupils huge with shock, his breath harsh and fast. It wouldn’t be long before he died. Finally, the man spoke, “Leave the cave and head straight to your right.”
So even an idiot like him can see sense. Kenshin nodded and stepped closer, his hand on his sword, ready to fulfill his end of the bargain.
“But… don’t think it’s over yet! There are three more of us left! And even if you beat the last of us, we will still win!”
Three more? Kenshin narrowed his eyes. That’s good to know, but why is he still blustering? Just how much breath does he have left in him?
“...shadows, who will be satisfied with nothing less than victory. Even in death, I will be a barrier to you!”
It was only then that Kenshin noticed the rope the idiot was tugging with his feet… and the barrels it lead to. He heard the sound of an ignition striking at the same time he realized what it meant.
Oh SHIT!
Kenshin turned tail and ran.
Thighs tingling from exertion, he sprinted faster than he ever had without Kenta helping him, but the cave was deep, a tunnel that blew the flames of explosion right after him. He was almost out, so very near the exit, but still too far away when the wall of fire and insane pressure caught him. He jumped and curled into a tight ball, trying to protect himself as the sound wave hit him, pushing him out of the cave like a bullet out of rifle muzzle.
It felt like someone had stabbed daggers into his ears and he gritting his teeth, barely landing on his feet in an uneven crouch.
A wave of pain echoed through him and he grunted to brace against it, waiting for the aftershocks to pass. Then he scowled and glanced behind him, noting how the cave entrance was charred black from the explosion.
“A sore loser,” he remarked out loud.
Huh?
There was something off with his voice. No, not his voice, but… Gingerly, he knelt to take a fistful of snow and threw it.
...So that’s why he said he would be barrier to me, even in death.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t hear anything, but it was impossible to tell where the sound was coming from.
Dammit! I can’t rely on my hearing either!
“Your ki and your hearing. You have lost two of your six senses.” A low man’s voice remarked.
Where? Kenshin turned around, hand already on his sword. Ah, there.
A very large man, even taller and more muscular than Master, was staring at him across the small clearing, a large ax in his hands. A brute, who relied on force.
“How many times do I have to say it?” Kenshin asked, dropping into a stance. “Why does that matter?”
The ax-wielder inclined his head, a wry smile on his lips. “Here I come.”
The thing about large and strong fighters was that they were always slow. No matter their strength, the length of their limbs, or how much had they trained, they wouldn’t ever be a threat unless they could land a blow, and for Kenshin, well, it had always been easy to dance around larger men’s bulk. Master had been the only exception to that rule, and that was because he had been able to enhance his speed with ki.
Yes, even like this, I can kill this man. Kenshin thought, dodging the ax-wielder’s terrifyingly strong blows. After all, he had trained for years to gain speed and agility. Even without ki, even without any particular natural talent for speed – he had worked hard for years and now… it had all paid off.
It was easy to predict the brute’s massive swings and sidestep them with minimal movements, waiting for a perfect chance to deliver the killing blow.
Yet, he should have guessed it wouldn’t be that easy.
He knew that these guys were prepared. They had obviously studied his abilities and worked to counter them in dishonorable ways. It hadn’t escaped Kenshin that this trap had been carefully tailored to take advantage of his weaknesses, but never in a thousand years would he have thought that overconfidence would be his downfall.
It was at the point where he had finally gotten a good sense of the brute’s movements and was just getting ready to land a finishing blow, when all of a sudden, he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye.
It was through sheer luck that he managed to dodge the thrown blade in time.
“Two against one,” Kenshin remarked out loud, gasping for breath – his eyes locked on the second man lurking in the trees: a silent hunter, trying to take him by surprise. It wasn’t very sporting, but then again, he hadn’t expected anything different. These bastards fought dirty. Rage flared inside him and he bared his teeth into a mockery of a smile. “Perfect. That will save me the time of hunting you both down.”
It was more than a little arrogant and he paid for it shortly thereafter.
Even though he could track either one of the pair, without ki – he couldn’t track them both. The brute was surprisingly nimble on his feet and even a glancing blow from that ax would crush him. The man was large enough to strike down whole trees with ease, and his ax would make short work of his measly frame.
However, the hunter didn’t waste time taking advantage of his preoccupation – his steel claw raked across Kenshin’s shoulders, shredding his skin all the way to his shoulderblades, staining his kimono with his blood. Yet, Kenshin couldn’t stop to tend to his wounds, he didn’t have the time! If he stopped for just one second, he would die and Tomoe would pay for his failure… no, no matter what, he couldn’t fail today!
Besides, though the cuts were deep, they weren’t fatal. The steel claws were nasty weapons, designed to create wounds that would be difficult to stitch and would fester easily. But despite the pain, his arteries hadn’t been severed, nor had he lost much of the mobility of his arms – otherwise, he would have bled out and died already.
No, this was just an annoying wound on top of the other annoying wounds he had garnered today. Kenshin narrowed his eyes, his gaze locked on the hunter in the shadows. I can’t give him an opportunity like that again, I can’t – or I’m dead meat.
But wait… where is the brute?!
Kenshin turned, just in time to see a fucking tree trunk flying towards him as the brute charged in right after, his ax in his hand.
Too stunned to dodge, Kenshin didn’t have time to duck before the tree trunk hit him right in the forehead with the force of a hundred hammers pounding on his skull. His head flew back from the force of the strike – but it was the chance he had been waiting for, and so he swung his sword blindly, whipping it out of its sheath with all his strength and desperation, towards the brute’s legs.
The scream of pain that followed felt like the sweetest music.
I got him!
Clutching his ringing head with his hands, Kenshin stared ahead dazedly, but sure enough, his strike had landed – the brute was on the ground, both of his legs cut off below the knees.
Oh good, at least he won’t be running off…
Shaky as a newborn, Kenshin staggered through the snow, searching in vain for the hunter in the shadows. He was too far out in the open like this, vulnerable and weak, barely able to stand, much less dodge incoming blows. He needed cover and fast!
Leaning against a thick tree, he gulped for air and tried to gather his bearings.
It was a mistake.
The hunter’s claws dug deep into his right shoulder from the one direction he hadn’t prepared for – from above.
“So stubborn… I expected nothing less of Battousai. But I planned for you to abandon your sword! The hunter gloated at him, so sure that he had already won.
It would be the bastard’s final mistake. Instead of clutching his bleeding shoulder to still the torrent of blood pouring forth, Kenshin fingers found his wakizashi. “You move around quickly,” he remarked softly and struck.
“AAUUUGH!”
His wakizashi sunk deep into the tree, piercing both of the hunter’s palms, his flesh, tendons and bones. Good. This bastard won’t be running off, either. Kenshin exhaled slowly. “I’ll kill you in a minute, so stay put.”
“I can’t get it out… damn you!” The hunter tugged his hands against the blade in vain. Nothing short of wrenching with all his power would get him free, but that would risk causing irreparable damage to his hands – no man who had sunk their whole life into their fighting skills would choose to make that sacrifice.
It was a pitiful sight, but none of these men deserved his pity or even a hint of compassion. No, this bastard and the rest of his cohorts would get nothing but pain and death from him.
“One who hides in shadows, moving about and attacking,“ Kenshin sneered. “So that’s what you really are.”
“You saw me!” the hunter gasped, and his tugging became frantic, almost manic, and worse, in his mania he started to blabber.
Frankly, Kenshin was too tired to listen.
He was hurt and tired and he had to get to Tomoe – every second he wasted here would be dangerous for her.
He was just about to head over to finish off the brute, when the blabbering idiot tore himself free from the tree and escaped. Kenshin stared after him, blinking slowly in disbelief. Well, with those hands, he won’t be threat to anyone ever again... I guess it doesn’t make sense to chase after him.
However, the big guy was still bleeding out behind him. The man had crawled to the edge of the clearing, propping himself against the tree, and now he was just sitting there patiently, waiting for the death to come.
“The first man said that there were three others,” Kenshin asked. “Where is the last one?”
“In the shack ahead. The girl is there too,” the brute said calmly, like they were talking about the weather.
With the last dregs of fighter’s courtesy, Kenshin inclined his head and turned to leave. It wouldn’t matter if he struck the finishing blow or not. The brute was already dead, it was just the matter of when – it could take seconds or minutes before his heart wouldn’t have enough blood to pump.
“Wait!” the brute shouted after him.
What is now? Kenshin turned tiredly.
“You forgot something! The third barrier… take this!” The brute reached under his massive bulk and pulled a lever.
Kenshin’s eyes widened in alarm… and then he saw nothing but white.
The force of the second explosion blasted him several feet backwards. He instinctively curled into a ball, trying to break the worst of his fall. When the world stopped spinning, Kenshin sobbed and struggled to keep breathing, to ride out the waves of sheer agony. His eyes, his head, his shoulders, his back, every inch of him hurt. Oh gods, oh gods, the pain – the pain!
“Ughhh…” Kenshin groaned weakly, shakily letting go of his knees and simply laying there for a moment on the sweet, soft coolness of snow.
The echoes of torment rang through him, each wave growing less and less until it receded to a dull, throbbing ache, pain shooting out up again with every single one of his movements… but his eyes were worse, the blinding flash had robbed most of his vision. All he could see were hazy, dark shadows in white.
...But I can’t give up.
No matter how much it hurt, how difficult… I have to stand up.
Yes, for Tomoe.
Tomoe was there, just ahead, and the last of these bastards was there with her. That man would have heard the explosions – a sure sign that his comrades had lost. What would stop him from striking down an unarmed woman, now that she had so self-evidently outlived her usefulness?
Turning onto his stomach, Kenshin crawled through the snow, blindly searching for his sword. He couldn’t see anything but hazy lumps of darkness, but surely one of them had to be the katana he had thrown forward to score a hit on that ax-wielder. Yes, there was one of the brute’s separated feet, there was his frozen bloodtrail... and there.
His fingers curling around the cold steel, Kenshin exhaled in relief.
Slowly, he gathered his legs under him and propped himself up with his sword. His legs shook pitifully, his balance was shot and so were his hearing and vision. He was a wreck, running on nothing but adrenaline and sheer, vicious hate, but he was all that Tomoe had… and he couldn’t fail, not anymore than he had already failed.
“Tomoe, wait for me!” Kenshin gasped out loud and began to walk.
Using his sword as a crutch, he limped one step after another, slowly making his way through the snowy forest.
Every step he took hurt.
It was difficult to keep his balance, to ignore the dizziness clouding his every thought and keep going – but he had no choice. He had to save Tomoe, he had to! With his fury driving him, he could still save her if he just hurried!
Ahead of him, shadows receded… It was another clearing?
“The woman is useless to me. I will get her out of the way…” a deep man’s voice muttered out loud.
It was impossible to pinpoint exactly where it had come from, but it was close. He had gotten here none too soon, then. Taking a deep breath to collect himself, Kenshin stepped out into the open. “I’m taking Tomoe back.”
“What?” the voice bit out.
In the middle of the plain of whiteness, there was one dark shape that was roughly a man’s size, but Kenshin couldn’t make out any details, not about the man’s looks or his chosen fighting style.
It didn’t matter.
As hurt and exhausted as he was, dodging wouldn’t be easy. The best he could do was to rely on his instincts and attack when the shade came close enough to strike.
Luckily, this last man was just as stupid as the rest of them, too interested in hearing his own voice. With some relief, Kenshin allowed the man to bluster, knowing that every extra second he gained would help him to recover his sight.
Then the shade shouted, “Take this! Muteki style fist-fighting! Gou fu baku! ” And in the blink of an eye, the shade was in front of him.
Kenshin drew his sword in perfect battoujutsu.
It was too late.
The shade jabbed him straight in the throat with enough force to throw him back. On instinct, Kenshin inhaled and choked from the stabbing pain. Oh gods, the pain! Coughing madly, he staggered away, striking his sword into the ground to keep his balance.
“… your chance of beating me is nil!” the shade boasted.
“Even if my body and my senses are wrecked…” Kenshin wheezed in rage, “if I concentrate all my strength on the point of attack, that’s all I need.”
Then the bastard was there again, dancing just out of reach, delighting in delivering strikes to Kenshin’s mid-drift, to his wounded shoulders, to every weak spot he had learned to defend from Master’s blows as a child. It was a torturous mockery of a fight, as the bastard took his time showing him just how desperately outmatched he truly was against that lightning fast precision.
Perhaps it was alright.
His stance was broken and he couldn’t distinguish the bruising hits from the rest of his injuries. He hurt too badly. All the elegance and carefully trained responses Master had spent years beating into him were useless.
The whole time, the bastard taunted him, trying to break his spirit by pointing out why he couldn’t win.
And little by little, Kenshin started to understand: he was too hurt, too numb to fight properly… all he had was his rage and his need to save Tomoe. If he continued like this, he had no chance at all. But how could he attack a target he couldn’t see?
Unless…
Yes, there is one sure way to know where he will be. Kenshin whispered softly, “So, I can’t win… you are right about that.”
In a fight like this… the only way to win is to give up.
If he couldn’t rely on his senses, if he couldn’t protect himself like Master had taught him… then, yes, for Tomoe, he would sacrifice himself and risk it all for one last strike. After all, if he could kill this man, then the threat against Tomoe would be dealt with and she would be saved. She could live and survive to see the era that Katsura-san and others were building.
Only, I can’t be there with her…
But maybe that was only right. He was a broken, tainted man – a half-insane murderer.
And she… she is everything to me.
Put like that, it was no choice at all. Kenshin took a deep breath and settled into an open, reckless stance: no defenses at all, his katana held high, ready for the most basic strike of all, the kesarigi.
“Here I come.” Kenshin sprinted.
There, just ahead of him… a darker spot, yes!
He jumped and changed his grip on the hilt of his sword to the overhead slash, chanting in his mind: come and take the chance I’m giving you, you damn bastard! Come… come to your death!
And then the shadow moved in…
Kenshin closed his eyes and struck with all his strength, feeling his blade cut through cloth, flesh, and bone. Yes! Cut! Cut! Cut! He delighted in the sensation, knowing he had won.
But where was the bastard’s answering strike?
Suddenly, the scent of blood fogged his nostrils, a sickeningly sweet scent, but even that wasn’t enough to overpower the faint hint of white plum…
…What?
Eyes flying wide open, Kenshin stared at a white shade holding the dark in place – and saw his sword slashing through them both.
No…
The white shadow fell to the ground and Kenshin’s heart skipped a beat, his knees dropping out from under him.
No, no...
The smell of white plum blossoms was so familiar, and so was the soft fabric, the silky hair… Kenshin gasped raggedly, gathering her into his arms like a broken doll.
No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
“Tomoe…”
She was wheezing, a terrible wet, red stain spreading across her chest...
“Tomoe.”
Her desperate gulps for air sounded terrible – it was the wet, lurching sound of blood flooding into her lungs, drowning her. She coughed and wet matter flew out, hitting his hands.
It was the worst sound he had ever heard. Something rose up inside him, blocking his throat, as he held her gently, tears gathering in his eyes. “Tomoe… why?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t, not with the blood pouring out of her mouth, but she raised her hand to trace his cheek, like she had always done… but this time, instead of her comforting touch, instead of her gentle, nimble fingers, Kenshin felt sharp steel cutting into his flesh. Even so, it was her touch and so he leaned into it, feeling her love in that simple motion.
He didn’t need to be able to see to know that she was smiling.
She fell slack in his arms, her wheezing growing fainter… and then there was only silence.
Kenshin blinked, trying to clear his hazy vision.
“To…”
The blurry figure wasn’t any clearer, but his heart knew what his eyes couldn’t see – her large, soulful eyes, her pale skin, her beautiful red lips…
“mo…”
She was smiling.
“e….”
But she was dead.
“TOMOE!!!”
The scream rose from deep inside his chest, breaking through all his modest reserve, raw and terrible, echoing through the forest around him like a tengu’s screech. Kenshin squeezed her tight in his arms and buried his face in her hair, letting his tears flow freely. He cried, and cried and cried, screaming his pain to the world like a man with nothing left to lose. Time held no meaning, neither did his pain or the freezing coldness all around him, nothing mattered, because she was dead. Dead. DEAD!
When he finally closed his eyes, drawing in the scent of her hair, her blood, and her white plum blossom perfume, pressing them into his memory… He knew there was nothing left for him to life for.
The sweet nothingness of darkness pulled at him and he welcomed it with open arms.
—————————————————–
“Kido-san, there is a message for you.”
“Hmm?”
“It’s from Kyoto.”
“Ah,” the man known as Kido frowned, accepting the message that the skittish maid handed to him, dismissing her with a quick hand motion. When he was alone, he unfolded the letter and began to read.
The news was worrying.
The Bakufu’s dark shadows, the terrifying Yaminobu, whose existence was so secret that only the highest ranking members of the government had even heard the name, had finally made their move. Worse, instead of coming for the head of the snake like he had assumed and taken precautions for, they had struck the boy.
But in doing so, they had given him the last piece of the puzzle.
Only three men, Iizuka, Katagai, and himself, had known where the boy was hiding. He had kept his affairs close to the chest, and Katagai had been found dead three weeks ago... which left only Iizuka.
The rat.
So, finally, I have my traitor.
Kido smiled and called out to his bodyguard, “Please, send a message to the new man, Shishio. I have a job for him.”
——————
“He has lost so much blood… all these wounds, it’s a miracle he is still alive. Here, help me turn him,” a low, older man’s voice rumbled.
“Hnn, his fingers and toes are frostbitten, too,” a woman observed. “Wouldn’t it be better to cut them off, instead of risking infection?”
“Perhaps, but as he is right now, it could prove to be too much for him. Let’s wait and see. Keep scrubbing the dying skin daily and if blood rot sets in… well, then we have no other choice, do we?”
“As you say,” the woman concurred. “That ugly gash in his shoulder hasn’t stopped bleeding yet.”
“It’s a difficult one to stitch right,” the man admitted. “The skin is pulled too tight. If it heals, it will scar badly.”
The woman sighed unhappily, before asking softly, “Can he even make it?”
“If his fever doesn’t kill him, or the blood loss… yes, he has a chance. But that bump on his head worries me the most. A direct hit to the head like that is a sure sign of a concussion. Notice how he just drifts in and out of consciousness, never waking properly? If he survives… it will be a miracle if he comes out of this right in the head. Bad concussions are risky like that. Worse, I have no way of telling if he is bleeding inside his skull or not.”
“His eyes! Look!” the woman gasped. “I think he is awake.”
The man scoffed. “Awake? Maybe… maybe not. Coherent? I doubt it.”
Something dark leaned over him, blocking the light and commanding gently, “Look at me, boy.”
He tried, but it hurt… Oh god, how it hurt.
“See? His pupils don’t follow at all.” The shadow left. “Well, only time will tell. Just sleep, boy. Sleep.”
—————-
“Here, drink this…” A strong arm propped him upright, and poured something warm into his mouth.
He coughed and spluttered, too tired, too hurt to swallow.
“Easy now. Take it slowly,” the woman’s voice murmured in his ear, like she was soothing a child, or a wild animal. All the while she rubbed his throat and forced him to swallow. “It’s alright. It’s alright. Just take it slow and eat, yes, just like that. You need to eat to regain your strength.”
Alright..? Tomoe is dead! How could it ever be alright?
“Just eat and survive. You can do it.”
Survive..?
Why should I survive?
Tomoe is dead!
Yet, he he couldn’t stop her and some of the the rich, disgusting broth made it down his throat, forcing him to keep swallowing lest he choke. The woman didn’t relent and poured more broth in his mouth.
Finally it was over, and the woman lowered him onto his back, wiping his face with a towel. “There, there… it’s alright. Just sleep now.”
Too tired to question her, he closed his eyes. The dreams pulled him back into the darkness, back to the dreams of blood, screams, white plum scent… and her frozen smile, eternally still in death.
——————
“Here, I took this from her and washed the worst of the blood away. It would have been a shame to see it burn – the embroidery is so beautiful. Did she stitch them herself?” the woman asked, before huffing fondly. “What am I saying, of course she did. She was the type of a woman who would have excelled at delicate needlework.”
Seeing no answer forthcoming, she laid down the fabric next to his hand, close enough that he could feel the its softness.
The woman cleared her throat. “We burned her today. A sad affair, but it couldn’t be postponed any longer. It isn’t right for the dead to lie cut open like that – it’s disrespectful. You had the right to be there, but like this, how could you have?”
Some feet away, small figures rushed past them, their small legs thumping on the floor.
The woman waited for them to go, before remarking with her low, scratchy voice. “I can’t even tell if you are there anymore. Perhaps, it would have been better if we had been too late… Even the good doctor can’t say if you will make it.”
“I dare say there are many people who would be happier if you had died,” the woman scoffed wryly. “Did you know that there was a boy huddled over you when we found you? He dashed into the forest the second he saw us, but there was a knife that hadn’t gotten buried under the new snow… perhaps the boy, too, wanted you dead, but couldn’t bring himself the finish you off.”
A certain wary disgust entered her tone. “You should thank your luck that my husband was there. Small and slight as you are to carry… I don’t know if I would have chosen to save you. You know, I knew from the start that you were a killer. There was a cold look to your eyes, utterly unnatural for a boy your age.”
“Frankly, from what my aunt told me about you in her letters, I didn’t want to have anything to do with you. But that girl, Tomoe – she, I liked. Whatever she saw in you, I couldn’t understand. But then you came and saved my boys from the fever...” She paused, clearing her throat. “I guess I owe you. But after this, my debt to you is paid, you understand?”
“I don’t know if I am wasting my time talking to you, pathetic sight that you are. Those unnatural eyes of yours just don’t follow,” she said sourly. “But if you hear me, then know Tomoe is dead and burned… and you are not. So now, it’s your duty to keep going. Fight and survive. If not for yourself, then do it for her sake. She is alright now, in a better place.”
A warm hand brushed his sweaty bangs aside, stroking his brow. “It’s alright, it’s alright now.”
———————–
The more Kido learned of Iizuka’s deceptions, the angrier he became at himself. He had trusted the man, appreciated his silent competence, confidence, even his slyness and his deft eye, and had allowed the traitor to worm himself into his inner circle.
It was only around the Ikeda-ya crisis that Kido had began to suspect that there was someone close to him who was intent on removing his best assets, the power and influence he had garnered… and to undermine the Choshuu Ishin Shishi’s work.
After all, there were very, very few people who knew enough to hurt him like that.
But when Himura’s cover had frayed so thin that even the Shinsengumi knew about his prized assassin… He had known then that they had a rat and so he had pulled his best resources to safety. After all, the boy was an important asset, nearly irreplaceable; the strength of Hiten Mitsurugi and his true loyalty to the cause.
And yet, it hadn’t been enough. Now Kido had to find out if there was anything he could save from the mess.
At the end of summer, he had sent the boy to lay low in the relative safety of the countryside. Otsu was a good place. It was close enough to Kyoto that if needed, the boy could be called back on short notice… but more importantly, it was a place where Kido could discreetly monitor his asset through contacts that no one among the Choshuu men knew he had.
Kido scoffed dryly; he found it amusing that most men of the samurai class, the elders and influential power players among the Ishin Shishi, still didn’t pay attention to the obvious and constantly underestimated intelligence and usefulness of the fairer sex.
Well, it was to his advantage. Some of his best information came from his lover Ikumatsu and her friends working in Gion and Shimabara.
However, the lady he was on his way to meet now was somewhat different. She was one of his oldest contacts, an intelligent and discreet friend who would never betray him. Kido slid the sliding door open, noticing with certain delight that she had already prepared tea. Gracefully, he bowed to her and settled across her in proper seiza.
“So you finally show your face here again, Katsura-san… or would you prefer to use your new name?” the old woman remarked calmly, meeting his gaze without a hint of surprise.
“I’m pleased to see you are in good health, Okami-san.” Kido inclined his head. “And when it comes to my name, Kido Takayoshi will do. Katsura Kogoro is missing and will never return.”
Okami-san nodded and poured tea for him.
Accepting the cup she handed to him, Kido tasted the drink and paid his compliments as was proper, following polite routine to the letter. It was better this way, as it gave her time to assess him for herself – to take account of the changes this difficult half-year in hiding had brought his features. It was a necessary scrutiny, for nothing was as fleeting and as valuable as trust among men and women who played the dangerous game of power and influence.
Finally, Kido decided to break the silence. “The message you sent arrived safely.”
“So I assumed,” Okami-san agreed. “Did you uncover the traitor?”
“Yes, he has been taken care of.”
“Good.”
Okami-san sipped her tea calmly and he followed her example. It was good green sencha, remarkably well preserved to have a refined aroma even in early days of the new year.
“My niece sent me another message. Himura-kun is recovering and the doctor predicts he will survive if he pulls through the fever. He received several wounds, to his shoulders, arms, chest, and back – most of them just muscle wounds, but they were difficult to stitch right. The doctor worries about the amount of blood he lost, and the possibility of infection. When it comes to the frostbite in Himura-kun fingers and toes, those have started recovering nicely. However, the same can’t be said for Himura-kun’s concussion. He has yet to gain any coherency. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like he has bled inside his skull, but overall, it doesn’t look good.”
It was worse than he had thought, then. Kido sighed. “I see.”
Even if the boy woke up, it was impossible to know if he would ever be useful again. Kido, too, knew about concussions. Out of all injuries, they were the most unpredictable and dangerous. Men waking from long bouts of unconsciousness weren’t necessarily the same afterwards. Sometimes, it was like something had become addled in them, leaving them simple or highly volatile in temper.
Okami-san seemed pensive as well.
“And the girl, Tomoe?” Kido asked softly.
“Cremated. They found her dead in Himura-kun’s arms. My niece says it was a horrifying scene, like something out of a tragic play.”
Kido frowned, circling his teacup’s brim with his thumb.
“What is it?” Okami-san inquired, noting his telltale look.
“The girl was a mole, according to Iizuka’s notes. The traitor slipped her into our ranks, settled her close to Himura. I was so worried about the boy’s state of mind that I didn’t think twice. I don’t know what her true purpose was, but she was in contact with the Yaminobu.”
“Hmm, was she now? I didn’t peg her for dishonest.”
“She had been engaged to one Kiyosato Akira, the Mimawarigumi guard the boy killed a year ago,” Kido explained.
“Ah, revenge.” Okami-san nodded. “Yes, that I can see. A young woman with a grieving heart and a duty to avenge her fiance’s misfortune… set close to a lonely boy lost in madness. I wasn’t surprised they fell in love. Both, just pawns in this game.”
Silence fell between them.
There wasn’t much Kido could say in response. After all, they both knew he had been the puppetmaster pulling half of the strings that lead to that ghastly scene. He had played the game carefully, trying to save the boy… and the Bakufu’s Yaminobu had used the girl, hoping to create a weakness to exploit.
Truthfully, now that he could see the entirety of the plot, Kido could almost admire the crafty mind behind it.
Shaking his head, Kido asking quietly, “And how is your niece?”
Allowing the change in topic, Okami-san sighed, “Midori-san is fine enough. Unhappy with me, but that is nothing new. She will look after the boy until he is well again. I will call for you if I get any useful news.”
Kido nodded and drained the last of his tea; it had turned bitter.
Or perhaps, the unpleasantness was caused by the topic.
He had set Kenshin aside and cut all contact with him, trying desperately to weed out the traitors in his inner circle. He hadn’t even been able to consider returning to Kyoto before he had secured his back… and he had lost half a year in this endeavor, sacrificed far too much. It was unacceptable. This plot had struck far too close home.
————————————
The minute he woke up, Kenshin knew that everything was wrong with the world. He was lying on a soft mattress, the fire crackled close by emitting a soft warmth… but his eyes were dry like sand, his throat parched and everything hurt.
His back, arms... hell, even his head was pounding.
But that wasn’t the problem. He knew pain – it would come and go, it always had. Pain in his body didn’t matter, not compared to the crushing pain in his heart.
Tomoe was dead.
He knew it.
It was carved forever into his mind; the hazy image of her frozen smile and her white plum scent mixed with blood.
During that last charge, she had jumped in front of his sword, to hold off his enemy… and he had killed her. The knowledge made him want to die – dying would have been far better than feeling this loss, this emptiness in her absence. If someone had to die in that cursed forest, it should have been him. He was the killer, the tainted and broken failure of a man. And what a failure he was! He had gone there to save her, but she had saved him instead.
He wanted to cry, but he had no tears left.
It hurt… it hurt so much, but he was so empty.
There was nothing left in him.
He tried to draw breath, but it hurt too.
Everything was so wrong.
Because she… she was not there.
He knew it.
Her familiar, steadying ki presence wasn’t there anymore. Oh, there were others close by, flickers of ki moving close by, but none of them were hers.
Why did he even bother trying to breathe?
It was so difficult and she was not there anymore.
Then, he felt it. A slight, almost hesitant nudge, a wave of coldness brushing against him.
Oh… the spirit.
Kenshin had almost forgotten the spirit.
The petting feel.
Somehow, that hurt too. It wasn’t comforting, it was just ki moving inside him in a stroking motion. What use was it? What use was the ki if he couldn’t even use it to save her?!
Bitter rage flooded his mind and Kenshin shoved the spirit aside. He didn’t want the comfort it offered. He didn’t deserve it, not anymore. Why should he be comforted when Tomoe couldn’t feel any comfort ever again?
And right now, even thinking hurt.
Gods, everything hurt so much and he was so tired… but he couldn’t rest, not like this. So slowly, Kenshin tried to pry open his dry eyes, only to face the sharp, stabbing pain of daylight shining in the house. He struggled to raise his hand, just to cover his tearing eyes, but trying to move hurt too much for him to manage it.
So he blinked and blinked, trying to work past the shock of sudden brightness until he could actually see something.
Finally, he could make out the form of a familiar looking ceiling. It was almost like home, but not quite… nonetheless, he had seen it before. Frowning in thought, Kenshin turned his head to his right.
Tomoe’s shawl was neatly folded next to his pillow. For a moment, he yearned to rub it against his cheek, to draw in her scent that was lingering in the soft fabric. She had loved that shawl. She had spend hours upon hours embroidering those tiny flowers, the white plum blossoms and irises that she had liked. Even now, he could see her love on that shawl… but wait, what was that stain?
In the light blue fabric, there was something darker, almost like blood…
...Oh. He swallowed in realization. Right on her beautiful needlework was an ugly and disgusting stain – his work.
I killed her.
The knowledge hurt worse than a thousand stab wounds.
“Hey, Kenshin-san! You are finally awake!” a cheerful voice chirped right beside him.
It was Aimi-chan.
So that’s where I am.
“Mom! Kenshin-san is awake!” she yelled over her shoulder, turning her curious eyes to him, a hopeful smile shining on her lips.
But right at that moment, the only thing he could think was: why is she smiling?
There was nothing to smile about, not anymore. Tomoe was dead. Kenshin turned his face in the other direction, trying to swallow the bile that was rising in his throat. A bitter rage twisted in his gut. No one should be smiling, not right now.
At least, not to him.
He was nothing but a filthy murderer.
“Kenshin-san, why won’t you look at me?” Aimi-chan asked, her tone quivering with hesitation.
Thankfully, an older woman’s gruff voice cut in, sparing him from answering. “Aimi-chan, go out and play. Now.”
“But, mom… why won’t Kenshin-san look at me?”
“Just go.”
Finally, the small presence turned to leave, soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. The door slid open, bringing in a wave of fresh, winter air.
Then, they were alone.
“So, you are awake at long last,” Midori-san said pointedly.
Kenshin sighed softly, but turned to meet Midori-san’s gaze. Her eyes were harsh, worried… but maybe she saw something, because for just a second her eyes softened in understanding and she nodded once.
She glanced at the door, where her little girl had just left.
“The children saved your life, you know. They went to your house that day, like we had agreed earlier, but instead of you, all the found was an empty house. They were just heading back home, when Ichirou saw that boy who had hit him before, Tomoe’s brother, I believe you said. He was going somewhere and for curiosity’s sake, my kids decided to follow.”
Her scratchy voice was grating and Kenshin turned his head again, hoping she would get the hint. He didn’t want any company, nor explanations, he just wanted to be left alone.
Midori scoffed and touched his brow with the back of her hand. It was a cool, clinical touch, nothing else. “The fever has left, thank the gods.”
But instead of leaving him like he wanted, he heard her clothes rustling as she settled to sit by his side.
“The kids followed that boy right to the border of cursed forest. It’s not a good place and I have forbidden them from going there, they knew that damn well. Aimi-chan found a map lying in the snow, just as they were debating whether they should go against my warnings.” Her voice turned distinctly sour. “I’d have flayed their hides if they had. Thank god I didn’t need to, a loud bang scared them all the way back home with their tails between their legs.”
“Lucky for you, I know how to read. Most of the farmers here don’t. I am perhaps the only person in this area who could have understood that map… and yet, if me and Kichirou had been any later, you would have died along with Tomoe. It was a close call as it was.”
Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut, looking away. If his throat wasn’t so sore, he would have snapped and told her that it would have been better if they had left him to die.
Dying would have been better than this.
“Boy, there is nothing glorious about death,” Midori said to him, reading his face like an open book. “If not for yourself, then live for her. Do you really think she would have wanted you to die? Are you that stupid?”
The words slashed deep, tearing through his hazy thoughts...
And suddenly, Kenshin couldn't help remembering how Tomoe had jumped in between him and the last bastard. She would have seen his strike, and still, she had thrown herself in harm’s way… to protect him. Wishing for death now, was there anything worse he could do to tarnish her sacrifice?
The guilt turned his stomach, raising bile on his tongue.
Tomoe had given her life, just so he could live. And now, no matter how much it hurt or how unworthy he was, he had to keep going – for her sake.
So, when Midori-san brought him a bowl of broth and lifted his head to feed the thick, dark concoction to him, he didn’t protest.
The taste was utterly abominable, but he tried to drink it as well as he could.
“It tastes horrible,” Midori murmured in his ear. “I know no one would eat this if they had another choice, but you must eat. You have lost a great deal of blood and your body needs to replenish it.”
In all honestly, Kenshin didn’t know if he wanted to get better, but for Tomoe… he would struggle.
--------------
Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 06.05.2016.
This One - Chapter 27/40
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Pairings: Kenshin/Tomoe
Word count: 8067
Chapter summary: All good things must come to an end. The eve of New Years brings Tomoe and Kenshin a new visitor, and painful secrets and old hurts are revealed for the very first time.
Chapter 27 - Secrets, the prelude of the tragedy.
Read the chapter in AO3, FF.net or below the cut!
Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, vaginal penetration
--------------------
Chapter 27. Secrets
Two days later, they got a new visitor.
Kenshin was entertaining the kids in the yard while Tomoe fixed them all something to drink. The kids had showed up early today. Well, no wonder – in the middle of winter their duties at home were limited, especially as snow had yet to arrive. However, while Kenshin couldn’t say he minded looking after the kids, he was somewhat curious about what Tomoe was up to.
She was taking rather long.
And come to think of it, yesterday in the village she had mentioned with a certain spark in her eye that she had plans for how they should celebrate the New Years.
Was this about that?
Kenshin grinned helplessly, an almost anticipatory tension gathering in his belly. Good food, some sake to soften the mood – those were most likely in her plans for tonight, and after that? They had been building towards the next step in their intimacy for a long time. Maybe tonight, they would finally take that last leap into the unknown?
Stop it, idiot, and focus!
He shook his head, struggling to pay attention to Ichirou’s and Noburou’s playful boasting. They were holding sticks in their hands with grips that bore little resemblance to the real deal, but at least the boys seemed to enjoy pretending they were famous swordsmen. However, he wouldn’t have picked pretending they were Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku in their mighty quest to defeat the horrendous leader of the Shinsengumi, Kondo Isami. Because, logically, as the adult, he had to play the bad guy…
Kenshin sighed, and with a slightly martyred expression, fended off the boys’ enthusiastic flurry of strikes. They tried their very best, but they had no real form and the speed of their attacks was lessened by excessive and highly inefficient movements. It didn’t take much for him to track their actions simultaneously and block them. After all, while he wasn’t all that good at ambidextrous fighting, he had been forced to draw his wakizashi and defend himself in tight spots often enough.
At a distance he sensed a new presence approaching, but he couldn’t bring himself to be wary. The presence was small, focused, but there was a sense of uncertainty to it that suggested youth. A new kid coming to play, perhaps? He had met most of the kids in the neighborhood often enough to recognize them, and this presence didn’t belong to any of them, but then again, this kid could easily be from the village.
Then he saw the source of the ki presence: a young boy, about ten or so years old, staring intensely at them from the roadside, his fists clenched tight by his sides.
Kenshin hadn’t ever seen the boy before, not in the village, not in the neighborhood. It was somewhat perplexing. He had thought he knew most of the people living here and the boy was so young – he couldn’t have come far.
Kichirou and Noburou noticed his inattention and turned to look, too. Their curiosity was catching; even Aimi-chan and her friends stopped with their game with the ball.
“Who is that?” Kenshin asked, careful to keep his voice light.
“I don’t know,” the oldest of the kids, Ichirou, took it upon himself to answer, a thoughtful tone to his voice. “He is not from the village.”
“Maybe he wants to play with us?” Aimi-chan suggested, but she too was a bit hesitant.
“I’ll go ask him!” Ichirou declared.
There was no hesitation in that boy, not even when it came to strangers. Kenshin shook his head. Maybe it was better this way. With his strange colors, he was somewhat intimidating at first, for most kids. He didn’t hear what Ichirou said to the strange boy, but for some reason the boy got angry. His ki flared, and without further warning, he snarled, threw back his fist and hit Ichirou in the face.
“Hey!” Kenshin shouted in alarm, rushing forward to break them apart before things could get worse.
Why on earth would he hit Ichirou like that?
Sure, Ichi could be a bit too enthusiastic at times, just like all of their neighbor’s kids, but he couldn’t have said anything that merited resorting to physical blows!
However, when Kenshin finally pulled the snarling boys apart, the strange boy didn’t even hesitate, biting down on his hand like a wild cat.
“Atatata!!!” Kenshin half-gasped, half-grunted, trying desperately not to unleash his curse words. There were children present, after all. But, damn… that hurt!
“Enishi?!” Tomoe’s breathless voice pierced through the haze of pain. “Enishi, is that you?”
And the wild cat of a kid tensed all of a sudden and wrenched himself loose from Kenshin’s hold, shouting happily, “Sister!”
No way, no way in the eight great hells… A shiver ran down Kenshin's spine, as if in premonition, as he watched the wild cat of a child run into his wife’s arms and hug her with all his might.
Tomoe knelt, hugging the boy back, murmuring soothing words into his ear. Her ki stormed with shades of freezing coldness and warmth, the feeling becoming something far more intense than either of them alone. As she gathered the boy in her arms, it felt like she was shielding him from all harm with the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her cub. Cross this line and you will pay dearly, her ki seemed to promise to anyone who could sense it.
This has to be a dream, a waking nightmare of some kind. Anything but reality, Kenshin thought dazedly as his wife stood up, drawing her arm around the boy and inviting them both inside for introductions.
Apparently, this boy, this Enishi-kun, was Tomoe’s brother.
Kenshin didn’t need to hear her words to see the fierce love shining in her eyes. No, despite the suddenness, the sheer implausibility of this encounter stumbling into his lap, this boy was his wife’s brother and even if he was a bad-tempered, ill-mannered, wild cat of a child, he was family.
Tomoe’s eyes were so hopeful, as she met his gaze. Clearly, she desperately wanted them to get along.
“Your brother…” Kenshin swallowed, struggling to ignore the hesitation born out of his terrible first impression of the boy, and the flicker of jealousy twisting his gut like an insidious illness. Sweat gathering on his brow, he smiled and decided to start anew. After all, he was a man and it was his job to set a good example and welcome the boy into their household properly.
He stepped forward and murmured, “Yes, now that you mention it, you two have the same eyes.” And just like Master had done to him, he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair – to offer an adult, accepting gesture that had often soothed away his own worries and fears.
The kid’s eyes smoldered and before he managed to touch him, Enishi bit him again.
“Ugrh,” Kenshin grunted, hissing in pain. Damn, what the hell is wrong with this kid?!!! Blinking tears of pain from his eyes, he saw that the boy had again rushed into the protection of Tomoe’s arms.
Tomoe looked at Kenshin sadly, giving a pointed look at the door.
The hint was obvious.
“You probably have lots of things to talk about. I’ll wait outside.” Kenshin grimaced, turning to leave as he shook off the lingering twitches of pain in his hand. Never before had he felt like as much of an outsider in his own home as at that moment, with Enishi’s proud eyes lingering on him, making sure he left even as Tomoe knelt to console him.
Without looking back, Kenshin walked out of the door.
——————–
That boy, Enishi… he hates me.
It was an irrational thought, Kenshin knew. Just like the jealousy brewing in the pit of his stomach was utterly stupid, childish, and far beneath the man he tried to be. Tomoe hadn’t seen her brother in ages. Of course she wanted to make sure the boy was alright. Of course they wanted some time alone.
Yet, he couldn’t quite stop glancing at the quiet house and the door that stood between them, an impenetrable wall that cast him out of his home. Even if he concentrated, he couldn’t make out anything more than an inaudible murmur coming from the house, that was easily drowned out by the gleeful shouts and gasps of the neighbors kids as they returned to their play in the yard.
Idly, he rubbed the swelling, round bruise forming on the back of his hand. The brat had bit down with enthusiasm.
Another shared trait between the siblings, he noted with a certain wry humor, before sighing loudly. Somehow, he didn’t know how, he would have to bury his feelings and try his best to be as accepting and kind as possible to the brat.
If for no other reason, then for Tomoe’s sake.
His beautiful, wonderful wife was the steadying presence in his life, the rock he leaned against whenever things got too much. Of course, she would want the brat to live with them. Given how Enishi had sought them out alone, he most likely didn’t have anyone else to look after him, either. After all, it was beyond the pale for a boy so young to travel alone.
How far away did he come from, anyway?
Kenshin frowned. For the longest time, he had assumed Tomoe was like him, that she had no family to speak of. But what if she had run away from home? He knew so little of her past, only bits and pieces that formed a very imperfect image, but he had accepted it, knowing that speaking of it made her sad. But if she had a younger brother, were there more relatives she had left behind?
How many more surprises would he come across?
Especially since the brat – no, Enishi – was so much younger than her… No, stop thinking too far ahead. She will tell you in her own time, you know that.
Speaking of which, how had Enishi even found them? No one but Katsura-san and Iizuka-san was even supposed to know about this house. Well, Tomoe had gone to the village alone a lot in the beginning, but she wouldn’t have sent letters. She knew just as well as he did how important it was that they stay hidden. Besides, she had been surprised when she saw her brother. Her voice, it had been almost breathless with shock – incredulous, even.
“Kenshin-san! Kenshin-san, what’s wrong? Are you hurt badly?” Aimi-chan shouted at him, her eyes full of worried curiosity.
“Oh sorry, I’ll be right there with you.” He smiled, pushing his troubles and growing disappointment aside. After all, while he might not be able to make much sense of this mess, he had a sinking feeling that the New Year's fun had been canceled.
————-
As the sun started to set, Kenshin escorted the kids home. Partly, to clear his head a bit before trying again with Enishi... but he had also wanted to apologize to Midori-san and Kichirou-san on Enishi’s behalf. If Tomoe’s brother was going to be living with them, it was only right that they try their best to patch things up with the neighbors.
Ichirou had developed a rather sizable bump on his temple where Enishi had hit him, but it didn’t seem all that dangerous of an injury. Kenshin had weathered his own share of bumps and bruises when he had trained with Master and he had a fair bit of knowledge when it came to these things. However, just to be sure, he checked on the swollen skin once more despite Ichirou’s protests – the boy kept saying that he was fine, that it didn’t hurt at all.
Kenshin had his doubts about the validity of that claim. His hand was still smarting rather badly, and he had seen how much force Enishi had packed into the strike. However, if Ichirou wanted to dismiss his pain and show a brave face in front of his siblings, who was he to dissuade him?
After all, they had been playing brave warriors and no matter how silly it was, the boys had been insisting on acting like the heroes in their stories. It had been strange to realize how fast the years had flown by. It hadn’t been that long ago that he had entertained similar thoughts, but now… now he knew that heroics were not nearly as black and white as the stories made them out to be.
Midori-san’s disapproval had been obvious when he explained what had happened.
Kichirou-san, however, had dismissed it as “boys being boys” and told him to forget it, that it hadn’t been his fault, even if the ill-tempered child had turned out to be his relative.
Aimi-chan and the boys had been quite vocal about their desire to come over to play the next day, too.
Kenshin consented to the idea with some reluctance, reminding them that they should try to welcome Enishi into their play. Maybe they had just started off on the wrong foot and it would only take a little work for them to befriend the boy?
With their best wishes in tow, Kenshin left for home.
However, instead of meeting the boy at the house, eating dinner with him and Tomoe as he had thought – he saw Enishi glaring at him at the crossroads on the way to their house. His eyes shining with tears, the boy spat out angrily, “You! If only you hadn’t been there!”
Kenshin didn’t get the chance to say one word before Enishi ran off, leaving him to stare after him, feeling utterly and thoroughly at loss. He had assumed the boy would be staying with them for good…. Should he chase after him? But then again, what good would it do? Enishi had a problem with him, that was obvious. Most likely, he would only make things worse if he tried to force Enishi to talk to him.
Yet, a boy so young and so angry…
Well, Tomoe had let him leave. Perhaps, it meant Enishi had his family or someone he depended on waiting for him?
Yes, that makes sense.
However, Kenshin couldn’t help feeling curious when he arrived home. He noticed Tomoe intently writing in her diary, her ki feeling colder than it had in ages.
“Hey...” he started hesitantly, wetting his lips. “Where is Enishi going?”
She slammed her diary shut, spinning around like a startled deer. Her eyes widened, fear and even panic flashing in her dark eyes.
What..? Why would she… Kenshin gaped, frozen in shock. What could have made her so scared? She was never scared! He swallowed dryly and then, trying to make his voice as calm as possible, he asked, “What is it?”
“Um….”
…Is that guilt in her eyes?
“Enishi…” she hesitated, “...is going back to Edo.”
“To Edo?” Kenshin stared. That’s, that’s… almost 350 miles. She left her family and traveled that far? Why?
“Ah… well, you were probably wondering about me,” she whispered, looking aside, her fingers trailing over the worn covers of her diary. “I never told you. Up till now, I thought I wouldn’t have to speak about past at all. But maybe… this is a good chance for us to talk.”
It felt wrong to see her so uncertain, to notice how she avoided his eyes.
She shouldn’t feel so cold, look so distant, like she was building up the wall around her heart anew. Whatever had happened, whatever words had been exchanged… she, of all people, should never feel guilty.
It wasn’t right.
She was innocent, pure… in a manner he could never be. Kenshin exhaled softly and walked over to her, taking her hand into his own and squeezing it comfortingly. “Later. Please, don’t be so sad – I can wait as long as you need.”
Finally, her eyes met his and she nodded gratefully.
He smiled shyly, a surety rising in his chest that he had made the right choice. It didn’t matter whatever would come, whatever had brought this sadness to her… because he would be there for her, just like she had always been there for him. No matter how bad of a storm was coming, they could handle it together.
—————————————
They ate dinner in silence.
Her cooking was delightful as always and he enjoyed it without insisting on conversation. He could give her all the space she needed to collect herself and her thoughts before broaching painful topics. After all, her calm manner was what had allowed her to survive whatever horrors she had run away from.
It couldn’t be easy to be reminded of that time, as he knew all too well. His past was also full of darkness. It was easier to let such troubles lie.
With practiced motions, she collected the dishes and started to prepare the tea.
He rose to his feet, moving towards the doorway to take a look outside. Huh…?
“No wonder it was so cold – it’s snowing. It will cover the ground by morning,” he murmured thoughtfully, soothed by the sight. He had waited for snow to arrive for so long and finally, it was here. They would be safe until it melted, no doubt about that.
Yet, despite his relief at the realization, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the tenseness between them, the coldness in her ki, the sadness in her eyes.
No. Now was not the time to delight over such a simple thing as snowfall.
“I told you before that my family is from Edo,” Tomoe began softly, keeping her voice calm and light – cool, almost emotionless. “There were three of us, my father, my brother and me. We lived peacefully. We weren’t so well off that we had money to spare, but we went never hungry. My father knew nothing of the martial or scholarly arts, but he was a kind and loving man, good to his family and his neighbors.”
She settled to sit by the fire, cradling her tea in her hands. But her eyes held such sorrow, like he had never seen before. But why would her family be so hurtful a topic? This was nothing he hadn’t already come to suspect about her. After all, he had always known her to be of good name and origins. The samurai class had an abundance of families like hers.
“My mother was kind too, but she was always delicate, and of ill health.. She died shortly after Enishi was born. Enishi never knew her – I always took care of him. He came to love me as he would her…” Her voice wavered slightly, “He has a tendency to judge people harshly and he can get a little out of hand, but he is a good boy. When my engagement was announced, he threw a tantrum. That’s the worst he has ever been.”
Engagement…? Kenshin froze, his heat skipping a beat. She was engaged? She was in love with someone else?
Jealousy twisted in his gut, squeezing his throat tight and for an agonizingly long moment it was impossible to breathe. He closed his eyes and did his best to stomp down the feeling. She was his wife now. And even before, when they had met, she had been so sad and alone… obviously something terrible must have happened.
She fell silent, preparing the tea for him with graceful movements, before offering it to him. “Here.”
The teacup felt warm in his hands, but there was no comfort in the familiar scent, not now. Without tasting it, he put it aside, laying it on top of the cupboard.
She avoided his gaze. Her whole form was tense, shrouded behind manners and the walls around her heart. Her hands clutched the hem of her kimono, the only clear indicator of her distress as she drew breath, “My fiance was the second son of a similar family. He was a childhood friend. Like my father, he wasn’t accomplished, but he was kind and hardworking. At the time, I loved him very much and when he chose me, I was very happy.”
Her eyes rose to search for his, and it made his heart ache for her.
He wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms and promise that it was okay now, that it was all in the past, that he had her now and forever. But he couldn’t, not yet, not when sadness was like poison in her soul and she was letting it out, allowing him to share her burden for the very first time.
“Even though I was so happy, all I could do was look at him in amazement. No matter how I hate it, I can hardly smile. Maybe that’s why… I never told him how happy I was.” She paused to look aside. Her lips twisted into a grimace as she lowered her voice, speaking somebody else’s words like they pained her. “If the second son of a samurai cannot make you happy, I will at least be known as a warrior of repute, he told me. He postponed our wedding and joined the Kyoto Mimawarigumi, entering the chaos of Kyoto. And he… never returned. I didn’t wait for the news to come to me. I left for Kyoto as well.”
She looked up, locking her eyes with his intently, like she was willing him to see, to understand. “He died, in a far away place that I didn’t know. The happiness I should have had… it died with him.”
Her ki was so cold, colder than a midwinter’s frost, but her eyes, her eyes were sad and furious and bewildered all at once, like she was lost in her grief and he was her lifeline back. It was too much, there was such a terrible weight on his chest and he didn’t know how to help, how to make it better. There were no words that he could offer to ease her suffering, not against hurt like this.
“But maybe…” She paused, a shaky hiccup tearing its way past her reserve. Her eyes glimmered for a second, before her tears began to flow freely. “Maybe it was really my fault. If I had cried then, and tried to stop him…”
And finally Kenshin knew what he had to do. He didn’t even stop to think, he just swept her into his arms, catching her weight as she fell like a broken doll with all its threads cut loose. She buried her face in his neck and cried without remorse, her sobs racking through her body, her tears seeping into his kimono.
It was terrible thing to listen to, but he cradled her head, stroking her hair and whispering comforting nonsense into her ear. “It’s all right. It’s all right now.” The words didn’t matter. He closed his eyes and let her cry, offering her whatever comfort he could, no matter how small it was. “Shh. It’s alright. It’s alright.”
It was good to cry, to let out the hurt she had been harboring inside her all this time… like bleeding an old wound of poison, he thought. No matter how much it hurt to listen, to know how much she had suffered, carrying this grief alone...
No more, he swore.
When the sobs finally slowed to nothing more than exhausted sniffles, he leaned down to gently kiss her brow.
She wiped her eyes and her runny nose on her tear-stained sleeve, before tiredly leaning against his shoulder, seeking the simple comfort he offered.
She felt heavy against his side, but he bore her weight without complaint. Not even the prickly feeling in his fingers as his circulation was cut off justified asking her to move. No, he would be there for her, as long as she needed him. He kissed her brow again, slower, letting his lips linger as he stroked her hair.
After a while, when she didn’t seem quite so wrung out, she lifted her hand to trace his scarred cheek, turning his face so she could kiss him on the lips.
It wasn’t a nice kiss.
It was desperate, intense… it almost hurt. But he allowed it and returned it without question. If she asked it of him, he would give her anything, everything.
Maybe she just needed to forget the past for a moment.
Her hands wrapped around him as she continued to rain ferocious, hungry, messy kisses on his lips. He slipped his hands into her hair and returned them, leaning in to explore her mouth deeper, drinking her taste, heady desire awakening in him.
She drew him down further and right then, breathing didn’t matter, hurt, desperation, the past – nothing mattered. There was nothing but her, solid and real in his arms, the heat of the moment, their wet kisses and the way she molded herself into his every touch, desperate to get closer to him.
When she slipped her hands under his kimono, he didn’t protest. He merely returned the favour, tugging her top loose to access her breasts.
There was no need for words.
He leaned down to suckle those milky globes, delighting in her soft moans.
When her hand slipped down to stroke his aching length, he didn’t shy away – he merely grunted, letting her relieve the painful pressure gathering there as the liquid fire crawled in his veins. He buried his face in the valley of her breasts, trailing desperate kisses across her skin, moving upwards until he got high enough to lick the side of her neck. All the while she stroked him maddeningly.
It was close, so very close, just a little bit and then—
“Ahh, Tomoe!” he gasped softly, like singing praise to a goddess, as she brought him over the edge.
She kissed him hard, drowning out the words that bubbled on his lips. With her tear-stained sleeve, she wiped at the mess spreading on his lap.
He felt no shame – it wasn’t the time for that. No, despite the lassitude threatening to sink into his bones, he, or she... he didn’t know who, maybe they decided together, but they rose to pull her futon out from the corner of the room and rolled it open.
It was a relief to fall on the bedding, to feel her soft curves against the hard planes of his chest and his bony hips as they shared desperate kisses, hurried motions and strokes, shedding what remained of their clothes, trying to get as close as possible to one another. Drinking in each other’s breaths, they tried to feel as much as they could of each other’s skin… there was no time to think, only feel as they moved through these age old steps, this dance as old as men and women.
Their skin was covered in sweat, but it didn’t feel cold, even if it should have. The heat they shared was unbearably hot and when he again found her breasts, it was natural to suck on them, to slip his free hand down across her stomach, trail his fingers down through the thatch of curly hair to feel the soft folds and the pliable, wet heat of her cavern.
He pumped his fingers in and out, in and out, to give her the relief she yearned for.
She mewled and moaned under his ministrations, liquid fire burning inside her. Her pants became deeper, harsher, and her eyes sought his as she begged, “More! I need you – inside. Please, Kenshin—”
There was no time to question, to think… He settled between her legs, fumbling to position his hardening length to her hole—
And then he was in.
Oh gods! The heat! The warmth! It was all around him and it was too much, so much better than he had ever dared to imagine! He pushed in deeper, feeling a slight barrier give in and then he was inside her all the way to the hilt and oh gods, how it felt!
She gasped and grunted, as if struggling to adjust – so he stopped, trying to collect himself against the overwhelming sensations, seeking her eyes for approval.
Her eyes were red from all the crying, tear tracks having dried on her flushed cheeks, but her ki was warm. And though there was a certain wildness to her gaze, her lips were parted in soft pants… and then she whispered, “Please.”
It was just one word, but that’s all it took.
He had to move. He knew he had to give her what she wanted… and he knew what to do. It was so familiar, like he had always known how to do this. It was in his spine – an instinct. So he pushed in and drew out a bit, before pushing in deep, repeating it time and time again. There was nothing elegant or controlled about it. It was hurried and desperate and utterly perfect.
It felt so good and so natural to move his hips like this, like he was born to do this.
She gasped and moaned so, like she knew this too. Like she, too, enjoyed this, just as much she had enjoyed the other things they had shared.
In and out, in and out he moved, his breath growing deeper, sweat flowing down his back as the moment stretched for an eternity. She arched her back, drawing her legs tight around his hips, pulling him in deeper as she moaned, her hands tightening on her bedding. Her breasts jiggled, her eyes seeking his, and then a shiver racked through her form and her cavern pulsed around his flesh just so, and she gasped, “Ah, ah – Kenshiiin.“
Oh, gods, does she even know how beautiful she is like that? He grinned foolishly, pride rising in him at the sight. He had just made her come. She had come and he was still hard. He pushed inside her again – feeling her slippery wetness against the pulsing, throbbing mess that was his length.
Oh yes, he was still hard.
So, so, hard.
He closed his eyes for a second and groaned low. Oh, he never wanted this moment to end. Yet the ache in his loins was growing, becoming impossible to ignore. He was tense, so tense and the liquid fire was alive in his veins, almost forcing his movements. He leaned closer to her, pushed deeper inside her, searching for something, anything to relieve the ache that was building inside him.
He moaned, shuddering – all but sobbing as he kept pushing, in and out, in and out. It was too much. The pressure, the heat, the wet warmth all around him, it was all too much and then, the string of sanity that he had been holding on to snapped, the liquid fire bursting through his length into her – and for a second, for one blessed flash of a moment all he could feel was the peaceful emptiness it left in its wake.
He fell to lie on top of her gentle curves, in the safety of her embrace.
His throat felt hoarse, like he had shouted his joy to the world, but that couldn’t be true. He just hadn’t been able to help the sounds that bubbled past his lips, that’s all. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled the column of her throat, drawing in the faint scent of white plum perfume lingering there.
Her hand reached up to tenderly stroke his hair and his sweaty back.
It felt so safe.
How long they lay there, just trying to catch their breath, to anchor the world back into place, he couldn’t say.
But when he finally realized that he was lying on top of her with his whole weight, he instantly slipped off. Pulling his softening length from between her legs – it felt like leaving home, so comfortable had he been there – she rewarded him with a faint, relieved sigh, which meant much more to him than his own comfort as he settled to lie beside her.
Her face was a mess.
Actually, she was a mess all over – but so was he.
He reached out to stroke her hair. Her beautiful dark eyes turned to him and warmth bloomed in his chest, a feeling that had no other name but love.
He smiled, “Hey, there.”
There was no hint of sadness or grief in her eyes. No, all that poison had left her and she was calm, at ease in the afterglow with him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, after a small pause.
Kenshin trailed his fingers down her cheek, to her chin. “We are a mess.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in answer – not a true smile, but telling enough. Neither of them was exactly fine yet, but they weren’t broken anymore, either.
Sometime after, the drying stickiness on their skin forced them to get up. Kenshin remade the fire and with some grumbling pulled the door open enough to scoop a couple bucketfuls of fresh snow inside. It was really quite cold outside, he noted. The snow was falling heavily and already over a handspan covered the ground.
Tomoe melted the snow in the kettle to use as bathwater.
In the soft light of the waning fire, they washed, taking care of each other. It was a comfortable routine, calming, even nice.
It felt good.
Afterwards they dressed and leaned against the wall side by side, to stare at the fire, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders.
For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other’s presence in silence.
Idly, he started to think on her words, the past she had brought up. She had suffered so much, lost everything she had because of the rebellion, and worse, her fiance and her family had been on the Bakufu’s side.
But in the madness of Kyoto, wasn’t it true that both the rebels and those that supported the Bakufu were merely following their own beliefs?
It felt natural to voice his thoughts in this silence, to reason it out – his hopes and his choices and the reality of war he had come to understand all too late.
“A little more than a year ago, I quarreled with my Master and left him because I wanted to protect the happiness of the people. I wanted to end the conflict and start a new era… that’s why I joined the Choshuu Ishin Shishi and became Hitokiri Battousai.” He paused to draw breath, wetting his lips. “I believed that I could make a difference with Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, but in reality… it wasn’t that simple. I killed and killed, without bringing the new era one step closer. I was just a murderer. I buried my feelings, but somewhere in my consciousness, the hazy smell of blood was never far away.”
It was a terrible thing to realize that it had played out just as Master had said to him back then: he had become a common murderer. That just like the people had said about him, he had been falling into insanity.
Tomoe’s eyes were calm, unassuming. She was simply listening and being there for him, instead of judging him or scorning him.
“That was when I met you. Your questions pierced the haze around me. My half-lost sanity returned to me.”
If not for her, he truly didn’t know how he could have survived the chaos of the summer, when the haze of blood had never been far from him. He paused, eyes widening in realization. There was no smell of blood here, only her scent. The faint, feminine white plum perfume she liked to wear.
“For the first time, I understood the seriousness of people’s many different kinds of happiness. No matter how grand the Hiten Mitsurugi is, no matter how I tried to use my skills, no man can change an era alone. And he certainly cannot bear the burden of other’s happiness alone… The only thing he can do is protect the happiness of the people he sees before him, one by one. But before that… “
But before he could do that, well, there was still the matter of Katsura-san’s vision. He still believed in it. He had given his word and no matter how it hurt, he still believed in the Ishin Shishi’s cause. So for that cause, he had no choice but to be a murderer, a hitokiri until the day that the new era was achieved.
After all, too many people had died for the dream of a better future.
If he abandoned the cause now, those lives he had taken would have no meaning – they would become nothing but senseless murders.
No. No matter what, he would have to push forward and pave a way for the new world, even if he had to bury his heart in the process.
The resolve sunk deep, echoing in the abandoned recesses of his soul.
He closed his eyes and took a breath. “But when we reach the new age… Maybe this is foolish of me, but I want to find a way to protect others without taking lives. I want to find a way to atone for the crime of stealing other people’s happiness with my own hands.”
It felt right.
Kenshin turned to look at her, whispering gently, “Tomoe…”
“Yes?”
“The happiness you lost once in this violence… this time, I will protect it for you.” He reached for her hand and smiled softly, his eyes pleading to her: Please let me protect you, today and tomorrow and ever more. Please, let me keep you safe – so that you never, ever again have to hurt like this again.
Her dark eyes widened, but she nodded, a slight pink blush rising to her cheeks.
“Yes.”
And then, he saw the most beautiful sight in his life: her smile, full and unreserved.
They stayed side by side until their eyelids drooped and yawns arose. And then, for some reason, it was the easiest thing in the whole world to lie down beside her and relax, to face the lull of dreams at her side.
And that night, for the first time, they slept together – like two lost souls who had reached out and found each other at last.
————————–
A strange feeling tingling at the edge of his senses awakened him. It was a flicker in ki, so faint that it was barely even there, and already moving away. It didn’t feel threatening, so he just turned on his side and sighed deeply, snuggling deeper into the warm cocoon of blankets around him. It felt so nice to lie here, feeling so utterly content. The bed was soft, he was warm and relaxed all the way to his bones.
Last night had been trying, but together he and Tomoe had won, had overcome the past sadness, hadn’t they?
Yes, we won. He smiled, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent, spread all over her pillow and blanket. We won and then, we joined together as a husband and wife, at long last.
It had been so good that there were no words to describe it.
Never before had he felt so accepted, so thoroughly loved.
He sighed wistfully, turning onto his back, drawing his arm over his face to ward off the sunlight.
He didn’t want to get up, not yet.
No matter how late in the morning it was, this was the first time he had slept in a bed with her and he wanted to savor the experience… but damn, the thin rays of sunlight pouring in from the window blinds drawn shut were really quite annoying.
Kenshin pouted.
With a shiver, he drew his hand back under the blankets. It was cold in the house – a bit too cold, really. His breath misted slightly in the cool air. Hadn’t Tomoe dared to make a fire yet?
Maybe she, too, had slept longer than she intended?
Lazily, Kenshin turned to look beside him, but the spot where she had lain was empty.
So, she is already awake? But it’s too silent…
A shiver of alarm raced down his spine at the thought and he concentrated, trying to feel her familiar ki presence.
Nothing.
Without a second thought, he was up from the bed.
Tomoe, where is she?
There was no reason for her to go outside, no reason at all for her to leave the house. But she wasn’t inside, that became clear in seconds. Her kimono, where was her kimono? She usually neatly folded it and placed it on top of the clothes chest for the night, but now, it wasn’t there. Her wooden clogs were not by the door, either.
Kenshin didn’t pause to dress or put on his shoes before dashing out of the door.
The ground was covered with over two hand-spans worth of pure white snow… and in the snow, there was a trail of footprints leading away from the house.
She left?
Where?
Why would she leave without telling me?
With barefeet slipping on the trail he ran, following the footprints – until he got to the road, where they melded together with many others on the popular route.
Oh gods, why would she leave?
The sun was high – it was already near noon. How had he managed to sleep this late? How had he managed to miss her leaving?
Where would you go, Tomoe?!!
His pulse was beating so fast that he couldn’t hear anything but its drumming in his ears. He tried to breathe. In and out, just keep breathing, he told himself to master the panic.
If, if she really left…
No! She can’t have left. She wouldn’t! Not without telling me, not without a very good reason!
Kenshin paced, desperately trying to make sense of the messy trail on the road, to find a clue of some sort – but there were too many sets of footprints: geta sandals, straw sandals, large and small all melding together in the soft, new snow.
Oh gods, oh gods – I don’t even know which direction she chose!
His bare feet were starting to freeze and he was shivering, rubbing his yukata clad arms in vain. It was far too cold. His teeth were starting to chatter when he finally headed back, tracing her steps carefully, trying to think. He would have felt it if anyone had come near their house. He was a very light sleeper. He had always been. No matter how tired, how safe he had been last night, he wouldn’t have been able to ignore any foreign presences coming near them…
But there had been a presence, hadn’t there?
And I woke up to it…
Kenshin swallowed, dread twisting his gut and then he saw it. In front of their house, on the wooden log he used to chop firewood, there was a letter held in place by a small stone.
Hesitantly he reached for the thick, still dry paper and unfolded it.
It was a map.
And there, in the right corner, were neatly written words: “We have lured her into a trap. If you want to see her again – come. Come to us before her time runs out.”
It felt like someone grabbed his heart in a tight grip and squeezed it. Bile rose in his mouth, flooding his tongue.
Tomoe. Lured into a trap. To see her again…
A red haze fogged his vision, a veil of fury so strong, so overpowering that for a second he couldn’t even think. His ki gathered, like a snake coiling tight inside him and exploded outwards.
The spirit inside him roused from its deep sleep and for the first time in months, it rattled against the wall, ready and willing to –
But his anger was stronger. Why would he need the spirit? No, with this red hot fury driving him, he didn’t need coldness and apathy, the numbness he had used to survive the agony of an assassin’s life. No, for Tomoe – to save her from these bastards who had dared to lured her into a trap and threaten her life, he would kill.
He would kill them all without a second thought.
The words on the map echoed inside his skull. Tomoe. Trap. Protect her. Her time running out.
Her time.
Running out.
He closed his eyes and inhaled, focusing his ki and struggling to pull it back under his control. Yes, just like that. Now was not to time lash out, no – that would come when he found the bastards who took his wife. He would kill them all and make sure that for every hurt she had suffered, they would pay back tenfold. But first, he had to find them and conveniently, the idiots had left him a map.
The bastards had no idea what they had awoken.
I will find her and bring her back.
Kenshin opened his eyes slowly, staring at the deep gouges in the snow, the frozen ground, some of them reaching high enough to even cut into the wall of the their house. He couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. After all, ki was a dangerous weapon. Double so, unleashed like that.
How very fitting.
It didn’t take long for him to change into his fighting gear. His worn-down kimono and hakama, the old, worn gauntlets Master had gifted him years ago, and finally – his swords. It felt natural to slip his short, fancy wakizashi and his longer katana side by side into his sash.
The place the bastards had taken her was deep in the mountains. Some ten miles or so, if he read the map right. It wouldn’t be an easy trek in this deep snow, made heavy and slippery by the sun.
How had they lured her into a trap? What did they have that she had no choice but to go?
Kenshin paused in thought.
She wouldn’t have gone for a small reason. And yesterday, she had been so tense, so sad. Enishi, too had been crying, hadn’t he? What had they spoken of?
Had they threatened someone in her family?
Or could it be…
Enishi had run off yesterday. And if these men had wanted to set a trap, the boy would have been an easy target to pick up.
Damn, damn, damn… I should have followed him!
Kenshin grimaced, sitting down on the edge of the firepit to pull on an extra pair of socks to cover his freezing feet, strapping his sandals tightly around them. Sandals weren’t ideal in the snow, but they were sure better than nothing.
But for what reason had those bastards targeted Tomoe or her family? The Yukishiros didn’t have much money, nor prestige or power – well, at least to his knowledge. So why would she be a target?
…But what if, she wasn’t?
It made no sense for these bastards to attack her for her own sake, he realized, his heart skipping a beat. No, this is all for me.
It’s a trap for me.
They used the boy to lure Tomoe to them, then the threat to her to lure me. They want me to come into their territory.
But realizing the extent of their plot didn’t change anything. Even if these men had prepared a trap for him, he had no choice but to go. After all, if he didn’t come, the bastards would have no reason to keep Tomoe alive...
But who were these men?
Bakufu?
Yes, definitely. It couldn’t have been anyone else. But which faction? This was too elaborate for the Shinsengumi, the Mimawarigumi or other samurai groups, but wait –
That assassin in black!
What if this is about that? They knew of my identity back then, didn’t they? His throat went dry, and Kenshin swallowed. Gods, this was exactly what he had been afraid of these past few weeks, listening to Iizuka’s bad news piling up.
Yet, none of his fears mattered, not when they had his wife.
Nothing the Bakufu had ever thrown at him had been enough to stop him. With the strength of Hiten Mitsurugi he had cut them all down with ease, every single one of them.
And with this fury driving him?
They wouldn’t stand a chance.
Tomoe – please, wait for me. I’ll save you. I promise.
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Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 29.04.2016.
This One - Chapter 26/40
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Pairings: Kenshin/Tomoe
Word count: 7591
Chapter summary: The autumn is slowly turning into winter and our two lovebirds have came quite a way together. However, long long can their peace last, when it’s build on such a shaky ground?
Chapter 25 - The Harvest, in which Kenshin’s and Tomoe’s fruits of labor are harvested and promises are made.
Read the chapter in AO3, FF.net or below the cut!
AN: Unfortunately, the next chapter will be a week late. Animaniacal, who has been really cool and helpful beta-reading this story is going to Japan for a week. As we have been rewriting and editing unpublished chapters on weekly basis, this will cause some delay. Sorry about that!
Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, fellatio
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Chapter 26. The Harvest
The rains finally eased off, as autumn slowly turned into winter. Their field had suffered from the flooding, but not everything was lost. Diligently Kenshin pruned the wilted and browned leaves, removed the dead plants lest they rot in the ground. It was sad work, but he knew that if it wasn’t done, the few surviving plants would die too.
Thankfully, the soil was drying. The nights were steadily getting colder, but the morning sun was still enough to melt the frost. If the ground froze, it would destroy what little chance there was for his plants to make it. Yet, despite all that, Kenshin dared to hope that maybe, just maybe… some of their hard work could be harvested? He wanted to see something he had grown with his own hands, put so much effort into flourish. It would be a tangible proof that he wasn’t only good at killing things.
Yes, if this worked… he could show Tomoe that he wasn’t only a killer.
When it came to the moments of intimacy they shared, the issue of his pleasure stayed between them. He had done his best to allow her hesitant touches, but it was just… when the liquid fire rose, the feeling was so intense and it ended so fast and abruptly. On some level, Kenshin knew he was being unfair to himself. But what good was it if just a few strokes brought him over the edge and the result was this terrible mess? And it was Tomoe that did the laundry!
He couldn’t help but feel bad about it.
Yet despite his protests, Tomoe was determined and wasn’t letting the matter drop. So maybe, with enough time, they could figure out a way. If only to bring her peace of mind.
During the daytime hours though, they were getting an increasing stream of visitors coming to their way – and most of them children. It seemed that their neighbor’s kids, Ichirou, Noburou, and Aimi-chan had really delighted in coming over to play at their place and they had dared to invite a few of their friends to come back with them. The logic behind the choice was obvious: meeting somewhere halfway, none of the kids had to travel too far. While Kenshin and Tomoe didn’t exactly mind the children coming over, they had been worried what the kids’ parents might think of this, but luckily their improving reputation had already smoothed over most of the kinks. Apparently the Himuras were slowly being acknowledged as trusted members of the community.
What had helped their reputation the most was, ironically enough, Kenshin’s cover job. Now that it was late fall and the flu was spreading across the area, many people inquired after remedies. If they didn’t visit their house, then they stopped Kenshin and Tomoe on the road or in the village when they went to shop for groceries.
In a way, it was a relief. They didn’t have go out to sell the medicines now that people were coming to ask for them. However, it brought up a new issue of how to get more medicine. Their stock was running low and they couldn’t exactly go out to get more. After all, knowing as little as they did about this job, the only way they could get more would be to buy them in Kyoto.
Thankfully, Iizuka-san dropped in to visit them early in the eleventh month. Along with news, he brought another full medicine chest. When Kenshin inquired about the reason, Iizuka-san scoffed and said it was the rebels’ way of paying his stipend, very much the same way as they had paid him every month when he had stayed in Kyoto. It made sense, in a way.
When it came to the rebel’s situation, well, things had changed somewhat: Choshuu had gotten Takasugi out of prison and he was doing his best to rally support in the province. Yet Kyoto was still completely under the Bakufu’s control and everyone even suspected of supporting the populist agenda was being hunted down and suppressed.
Iizuka-san warned him that when things changed, they would change with speed and requested for Kenshin to come meet with him every fortnight on the road from Otsu to Kyoto.
It wasn’t a big issue for Kenshin. He liked walking and meeting Iizuka-san halfway would keep the trouble with the rebels out of Tomoe’s hair. She had finally confessed to him that she would prefer not to see Iizuka-san, if it could at all be avoided. Kenshin understood the sentiment. His closest superior wasn’t the most pleasant of men in general and neither he nor Tomoe wanted to bring up the fighting, the war, or the rebellion needlessly. But at the same time, duties were duties and he couldn’t avoid them.
Of course, now that he was no longer just a nameless face for the people in the neighborhood, people stopped to chat with him every time he left the house. They were especially curious to see him traveling alone.
It was a strange thing to notice, but he hadn’t gone anywhere without Tomoe by his side for months, had he? And while Kenshin didn’t care for lying, the truth was the last thing he could admit to and so, he had taken to evasively explaining that he was restocking supplies in the mountains. It was even true as far as the facts went: he met Iizuka-san on the mountain road and he did get supplies during those trips. The rest, well… that wasn’t anyone else’s business but his own.
So the days had settled into their own rhythm and it seemed like time was flying by faster than he could keep track. There were no boring or empty days in his life anymore. Every day was filled with new things to learn, new people to meet… and most often, new experiences that brought a smile to his lips.
The children’s visits were especially fun, as embarrassing as it was to admit.
Tomoe seemed to enjoy her role as peacekeeper, counter of points and achievements. She excelled at it, truly. Her natural calm worked wonders for soothing hurt tempers or reigning in the more rambunctious children whenever necessary. However, Kenshin found himself dragged to partake in the games more often than not. Strange as it was, the kids had decided that it was worth the trouble to convince him to play, even if he was always more than hesitant to join in.
Playing with kids wasn’t a very husbandly or adult-like activity and yet, there was something soothing in the carefree manner the kids played. It eased some painful pressure in his chest, a wound deep down he hadn’t even realized was hurting.
Perhaps, it was the same for Tomoe?
Her eyes seemed really soft sometimes, whenever he caught sight of them amidst the children’s laughter.
One day Kenshin found himself showing the kids the sort of games he had played with his own brothers, once upon a time. As a child from a very poor family, he hadn’t had the luxury of toys – every game had been built from whatever tools they had managed to scramble together on their own, and rest had been built on imagination.
It caught the kid’s attention straight away. None of these kids had much, either. After all, the lives of the ordinary folk had been getting worse for quite some time, and even here, near the capital, the farmers’ families had been tightening their purses for years. So instead of looking down on his tricks of how to build toy soldiers and animals out of cones, sticks and straws… the kids gulped down every bit of advice he shared, utterly enchanted by the possibilities that making their own toys opened.
So they played, crafting elaborate stories and making them more real with make-shift figurines. For the older children, this expanded into larger toys, so to speak. Drawn lines on the yard became provincial borders, a stick with a bit of hay tied around the end became a horse, another stick became a sword, and so they had samurai, farmers, and villagers, popular folk stories re-enacted in a children’s game.
The kids loved it.
Tomoe found it fascinating as well, even if she was somewhat wary of the boy’s insistence on waving sticks around whenever they played samurai. She didn’t like the thought of fighting, but even she could admit that there was little harm letting the boys act out stories of their heroes. And while the use of imagination to enhance stories was familiar to her, she had been a child from a good family and she had always had toys available, paper balls, puppets and dolls. Perhaps that was the reason why none of the games the children or he had come up with were in any way familiar to her?
It was a curious difference and despite knowing it was a foolish expense, Kenshin bought a light paper ball from the village. She noted his purchase with some amusement, but didn’t protest when he suggested she show some of the games she knew to the kids.
Needless to say, the fragile ball became a new favorite – especially for the girls.
It was a good thing, for the most part. The younger girls of the brood gathering to play on their yard didn’t always have the endurance to stick it out in the boy’s games for too long.
However, one afternoon Aimi-chan fell down while balancing the ball on her head and managed to hurt her knee. It was a little scrape, but Tomoe took her inside to patch it up. However, the second the little girl stepped out, she declared to everyone on the yard, with her trademark enthusiasm, that the Himuras house was really nice and they had lots of cool stuff, like a super mean-looking sword leaning against the wall!
Which, of course, caused Kenshin to instantly curse his habit of leaving his sword out in the open. He still needed the reassurance of having a sword in his hands every night and it was just easier to prop it against the wall during the day. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone might accidentally see it.
Unfortunately, that word was all it took to catch every kid’s attention. Especially the boys, they become like dogs hunting for a bone.
“Kenshin-san, why do you have a sword? Is it a real sword?” Noburou, the youngest of their neighbor’s sons asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.
“Uh… um...” Kenshin scrambled for words. “It’s just something to protect Tomoe with.”
Instantly an eager chorus surrounded him, bombarding him with questions, comments, and demands.
“Ooh!”
“So can you use it?”
“Are you a warrior?”
“I wanna see it.”
“Show it!”
“Swords are so cool!”
And for a moment, Kenshin wanted to smack himself in the face for his utter stupidity. Damn it! Why do I always have to answer, even when I know nothing good will come of it? Rather desperately, he tried to defuse the situation. “I haven’t used it in a long time and I am definitely not going to draw it without a reason.” Narrowing his eyes seriously, he added firmly, “Swords are not something to be played with.”
In truth, Kenshin hadn’t even thought about swordsmanship in ages. Tomoe didn’t care for fighting and he did his best to do right by her. Even now, he found himself looking at her over his shoulder, searching for some sign of what to do. She was tense, sadness was apparent in her dark eyes. She truly didn’t like to be reminded of fighting.
He didn’t either.
He was happy here with her, living this quiet life.
Around him, the kids’ eagerness had turned into obvious disappointment, as they had truly wanted to see the sword and some tricks.
“But what if you taught us how to play at sword-fighting with sticks?” Noburou insisted. “It wouldn’t hurt anyone! You could show us how it’s done for real and we could play samurai better!”
That’s… not a half bad idea. Kenshin blinked in surprise, before nodding slightly. And just like that, it was decided. Whenever the younger kids got too tired for games that required more participants, Tomoe could show them something less taxing to do and the older boys would play sword-fighting with him.
Despite Kenshin’s initial wariness, it turned out to be quite fun. Treating swordsmanship like a game, it reminded him why he had loved the art so much as a child. And the best thing? Seeing the boys laughing, waving their sticks around like he showed them… it didn’t bring the sad frown to Tomoe’s face, either.
The weeks flew by, the nights growing colder and the days shorter.
Early in the 12th month Kenshin finally decided to harvest their field. Overnight frosts had been getting more frequent, and no matter how pathetic his few surviving vegetables would be, they wouldn’t grow much anymore in any case, now that snow was just around the corner. However, to his utter surprise, the few vegetables that had survived were perfectly fine looking. Sure, they were smaller than usual, but still alright. And there were quite a few of them too!
He was so happy about it that Tomoe suggested buying some celebratory sake and fresh fish from the village. So that evening, they enjoyed a proper feast made out of their own harvest. Tomoe had grilled fresh fish and seasoned it with their own radishes. She had also boiled carrots and fried cabbages, seasoning them with soy and ginger and pickled beets.
The food was so good that he couldn’t get enough of it and kept asking for seconds. Tomoe’s delightful cooking made out of something he had managed to grown with his own hands… This was what satisfaction felt like, Kenshin decided. This feeling, right now, it made all their hard work and worry over the field worth it.
Tomoe seemed to share his happiness, as her ki was warm and her gaze soft. After a long moment of consideration, she broke the comfortable silence, “You smile a lot these days.”
Kenshin glanced up, a bit surprised. “Do I?”
She nodded thoughtfully, a hint of sadness entering her gaze. “If your life had taken another route, you could have been happy living like this, working your field and eating food grown with your own hands.”
Frowning a bit, he set down his bowl on the table, not really interested in the meal anymore. What is this about? He didn’t like the sadness in her eyes. Has she been thinking about the past again? Or the future?
Why?
Is it because of the meetings I have been having with Iizuka-san? Does she fear that our time living here together is coming to an end?
“I guess that’s true,” Kenshin allowed after a moment’s pause. If it all had been different, he might have grown up to be just another farmer. Rubbing his brow, he thought back on the twists of his life and the choices he made, good and bad, and all the might-have-beens.
Come to think of it, have I ever told her this?
“I have been through a lot of bad times,” he began, glancing up at her. “I was born in the middle of a famine and lost my parents and brothers to cholera. From a young age I trained relentlessly under the Hiten Mitsurugi style. Now… I am Choshuu’s assassin. In all my life, in my dealings with people, I haven’t had a lot to smile about.”
She tensed at his stark words – yet she didn’t shy away behind the veil of hurt like she tended to. Could it mean that she would listen to him? Maybe even start to understand why he fought?
“I learned the principles of the Hiten Mitsurugi style, wielded my blade and killed for the sake of a better world, to insure the safety and happiness of the common people.” He repeated the phrase he had carved into his soul, the words he had said to himself time and time again during the worst nights in Kyoto when it had all felt so empty, so meaningless. Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly and whispered, “And yet… I know now that it was a misguided idea.”
It felt like heresy to say it, but he knew the moment he said it that it was the truth.
He swallowed, once, twice… then raised his gaze to meet her shocked eyes. “The best I can do is to live here and create life instead of destroying it. I have never known happiness until now. It wasn’t until recently that I even understood what the word meant. It’s living here, spending time in the village and coming home to you. That’s what true happiness is.”
He took a breath and continued, his voice gaining certainty with each word. “Living here with you, it has made me realize how horrible my life as an assassin truly was. And the reason why I learned this essential lesson… is you.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips, because everything he said felt so right. “Tomoe, you have taught me this new way to live, given me this happiness. From now on, that is what I will fight for.”
The hesitation and coldness bled out of her ki and she nodded. Just once, but it meant the world to him.
There was no need for words, anymore.
She understood his reasons, even if she didn’t agree with them wholeheartedly. It was enough. He knew how much she disliked war, the very thought of fighting, no matter its purpose. Yet, despite their differences, she was there and she had listened to him and understood. It was more than anyone else had ever done for him.
In silence, they returned to their meal and afterwards, they shared the sake. She took a moment to warm it for them. Together they sat next to the fire pit, watching and listening to the crackling fire.
It was only then that she spoke. “After this war is over… I’d like to live like this with you.”
Kenshin glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes before reaching for her hand. Yes, to live with her like this, he would like that, too – oh, it was everything he wanted.
She reached out to him, gently stroking his left cheek and turning his face so their eyes would meet. There was a certainty in her tone, an undeniable inner strength. “And if it happens, if we can have that life together… then I want to have a child, a daughter, with your eyes.”
What could a man say to that? Kenshin smiled, laying his own hand on top of hers as he promised, “Then we will.”
———————————-
As the end of the year approached, the weather turned colder. The ground froze, and even the surface of the nearby stream was frozen over, so that he had to break open the ice every time he went to fetch water. Snow should be coming any day now. If Kenshin was entirely honest, he had been waiting for it. He had always liked snow and the bereft emptiness on the ground, the muddy roadsides and withered plants, the leafless trees… everything was so brown and dead. It would be nice to have fresh snow to cover it.
Kenshin was getting a little bit worried by the news from the Capital. Just few days ago he had met with Iizuka-san again, and his superior had told him that Takasugi-san had led the Kiheitai to take over the provincial government in Hagi. Choshuu was literally boiling with dissidence again. To make it worse, no one had heard from Katsura-san since the Hamaguri Gate rebellion, and people had even taken to calling him “Runaway Kogoro.”
It made Kenshin’s blood boil that people would so easily lose their faith to Katsura-san.
What was even more worrying was that according to Iizuka-san, it wouldn’t be long before the Bakufu would try to flush out the rebels that were hiding in the countryside and back in the province…
It didn’t help that lately Kenshin had been thinking back to events from the summer. How the Bakufu had ordered a hit on him long before the Ikeda-ya. Weeks before the Shinsengumi’s famous strike on the rebels, some faction of the Bakufu had known about Hitokiri Battousai’s identity. And if they had known his face then, what would stop them from following him here?
He was too easily recognizable.
And if those men came for him, now that the Capital was under Bakufu’s control... then Tomoe, too, would be in danger.
The very thought brought chills to his skin. It seemed that no matter what, their peaceful reprieve in Otsu was drawing to a close. However, without word from Katsura-san, Kenshin couldn’t exactly take Tomoe and move elsewhere, either. No, somehow… he just needed to sit tight and ignore his worries and fears.
Thankfully, with the winter on them, the Bakufu’s options would be restricted, too. With the threat of snow arriving at any moment, no one would be chasing after rebels this deep in the countryside. After all, this high in the uplands, when the snow came, it would come fast and heavy, enough to make travelling difficult.
Yes, if only the snow would come… then they would still have time together, here in their paradise.
It made him feel better about the situation.
The persistent cold had pushed them to buy warmer clothing from the village, such as two more yukata, along with haori coats and thicker socks. It was somewhat expensive, buying so much at once, but given how meager their clothing options were, the spending was necessary.
Another thing changed by the winter was their bathing routine. Their house was too small to have a proper bath house like Okami’s inn, or the bathtub Tomoe had grown up with in her childhood home. Still, despite the inconvenience, she liked staying clean. So he did his best to please her, no matter how much work it took to carry home the icy water from the stream and heat it up inside.
Though admittedly, Kenshin couldn’t exactly claim that he disliked her insistence on bathing often. Especially since she didn’t mind him washing her back, or any other spot, when his hands began to wander... and she didn’t seem to mind the things that often followed her bath, either.
No, this isn’t all that bad, Kenshin decided with a slight grin. He was gently rinsing soap from her chest, taking in how her lips quivered under his careful ministrations.
However, unlike the few times they had done this before, tonight Tomoe had convinced him to strip, too, so that they could bathe each other. He had protested at first. He wasn’t very comfortable in just his skin and it was intimidating to think that she could see him so bare. But it was only bathing and given how she had flat out requested it of him, well, he couldn’t exactly say no to her either, now could he?
So here there were, sitting on the raised edge of their wooden floor, water buckets and dry towels off to the side and nothing but soapy foam on their skin. It was more than a little bit silly and odd, but at the same time… it was quite nice to look after each other like this.
Tomoe had taken great pleasure in washing his hair, remarking out loud how nice it looked now that some effort had been put into its care. It was all thanks to her, of course – she still liked to brush it every now and then. He didn’t mind it, not exactly, though his hair had gotten somewhat lengthy. It was to his lower back now.
Her hair was a bit longer still and much thicker, like a smooth dark waterfall. He had admired it greatly, when he had insisted on returning the favor and washing it for her.
However, despite how nice it was to care for her, he couldn’t help but note how very tempting her bare skin was when wet. Her glistening, pert nipples were eye-catching in the light of the fire, so gingerly, he leaned down to pay some attention to them…
She allowed it, continuing to stroke his bare back and neck with a wet cloth. Every now and then, her breath would hitch, or she would let out a low moan. It was pure music to his ears.
“I love when you do that…ooh.”
Kenshin paused, before suckling a bit more forcefully.
“Ahh, sometimes I think—” She arched into his touch, tightening her arm around his back and gasping breathlessly, “I, ah… I think about what it would be like to do that to you.”
…What? Kenshin looked up at her between his lashes. There was a delightful flush on her cheeks, but her eyes were intent, even considering.
He raised an eyebrow, and still looking at her, suckled again.
She nearly pouted.
“I mean, you look like you enjoy doing that. Ahh!” She moaned low in her throat, struggling to continue, “But, I would like to give you something in return… uuh.”
With a certain amount of disappointment, he let go of her nipple, straightening to look her in the eye. They were back to this? True, she had been insisting on his pleasure for a while now, but… He sighed, “I know you would like to, but it’s just not worth it. It’s so messy.”
Kenshin had developed a deep loathing for the mess his pleasure would inevitably cause. The come was so thick and creamy and it had to be annoying to wash off. He truly, truly didn’t want to bother her with it, not when she insisted on doing the laundry. If it was up to him, he would let this whole matter lie. He got all the satisfaction he could ever want just by watching her. His pleasure, the brief heat… it was wasted effort at best.
However, unlike the frustration he expected, there was a sparkle in her eyes, and she looked at him slowly, trailing her gaze down across his skin. “There is no clothing to get messy now.”
Eyes widening in surprise, Kenshin glanced down at his lap and in that second, he realized the extent of her plan. So that’s why she was so insistent on us bathing together… He swallowed numbly. Could he get out of this? Did he want to get out of this? Sure, there was the familiar ache in his loins, ready to stir into full blown arousal…
“So, can I?” Tomoe asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.
Kenshin let out a breath he had been holding and then, slowly – he nodded, trying his best not to tense as she leaned closer and trailed her fingers across his pectoral, tracing the outline of his nipple.
It was just a feather-light stroke. It tickled a bit, feeling entirely different from the comfortable strokes she had used when washing his chest. No, there was very different purpose to her motions now and somehow, that purpose made the most innocuous of touches exciting even when they shouldn’t be.
Her eyes were large and held intense concentration as she felt out the form of his muscle, touching him, exploring.
He tried to relax, to allow her this whim. She had been so kind and accommodating to his enthusiasm for exploring her body, so how could he stop her from doing the same? But still, he wasn’t sure about this. Not at all.
She took his nipple between her fingers and squeezed lightly.
Oh… Kenshin frowned, trying to sort through the sensations. It wasn’t exactly bad, but it wasn’t rousing the liquid fire in his veins either, not like this. In fact, the ache in his loins was lessening?
She looked at him, a question in her eyes.
“It isn’t bad… just odd,” he tried to explain.
She hummed in answer, leaning closer to his chest to take a lick.
“Ah!” Kenshin shied away from her mouth even as he tried to control the bubbling laugh tumbling from his lips. “Ticklish,” he explained.
She shook her head, fondly patting the spot next to her in a wordless invitation. Without hesitation, he sat down next to her, his uncertainty fading by the moment. This was just curiosity and that he could oblige, no matter how odd it felt.
But then she took his nipple between her teeth and sucked.
Kenshin’s eyes shot open and he gasped, “Haah!” That was, that was… it didn’t hurt, not exactly, but the feeling – he had never felt anything like it before!
“Did I hurt you..?” she asked, the slightest of crinkles between her brows.
“No…” he admitted, gulping breaths. While he really wasn’t too sure about this, there was nothing he could object to about this crazy whim of hers, either. Well, except for the fact that this couldn’t be in anyway exciting for her. Somewhat mournfully, he watched her perky breast as he leaned back, propping himself up on his arms and allowing her better access.
She took his concession with some hesitation, leaning back down to explore.
It was a little bit cool, just sitting here, the wetness on his skin making him shiver. Or maybe it was her teeth. She kept nibbling his poor nipples, and every now and then she would suckle or suck on them. He was beginning to get used to the feeling. It really wasn’t all that bad, not really…
“Uh…” He bit inside his cheek, trying to hold back the strange wordless sound rising from his lips.
Yet watching her mouth, her teeth, and her red lips to do their work, feeling her wet tongue on skin that was getting more sensitive by the moment… it was almost, nice? He could learn to like this sight, he decided. It wasn’t all that manly, to just lean back and let her do what she wanted. But the fact was, he cared a lot more about her wants than his much abused self-esteem. And if she wanted to do this?
There was no question.
The room was getting somewhat hot. Sweat was forming on his skin and the ache was returning to his loins. Uh, yeah – he was definitely getting hard again. Did that mean he liked this? Or… no, it couldn’t be this strange thing he liked, no way. It was the sight of her caring for him that he liked, and her red lips…
Oh, he would love to kiss her beautiful lips.
Pity she wouldn’t let him.
It didn’t take her long to notice his returning hardness. Almost idly, she started to stroke his length with firm motions, continuing to nibble on his pectorals and nipples.
Kenshin groaned, biting harder on his lip. He really, really didn’t want to let out any embarrassing sounds, but, it was just – her hands felt so soft, and her slow strokes were… “Ahh..”
His pulse was picking up speed, like he was in the midst of an intensive sparring session, and the crawling need to move was stirring in his veins, seeping through to his bones.
She wrapped her fingers around his length, squeezing it gently, moving her hand up and down, and it took all his will power not to moan, not to beg her to do it again. He bit harder on the inside of his cheek, trying to stay silent, but her teasing was getting to him and the the liquid fire pooled downwards, pulsing through his whole body and it ached. He felt so full he could burst any moment now…
And then she bit him.
“Haaaah!” It was like a bright light flashed before his eyes, tense heat bursting through him, and he was over the edge.
Falling to lie on his back, he covered his face with his arm, struggling to gain his bearings. Inhale, exhale… just breathe, come on – just breathe, he thought to himself, doing his best to ignore the shame churning in his gut. It was easier said than done. Why was it always like this? Yes, for the briefest of moments it felt quite nice, but he had to work a lot more to bring her over the edge, and she enjoyed it so. Compared to that, all he seemed to need was a couple of teasing strokes and biting, of all things.
Shouldn’t the biting be repulsive?
Yet, it hadn’t been. The slight pain had been just enough to offset the overwhelming fullness, the terrible pressure the liquid fire brought, but at the same time, he couldn’t possible like it. His left nipple, where she had bitten him was smarting a bit and idly he rubbed it. It didn’t hurt, not exactly… but still, this couldn’t be in anyway normal.
“Did I hurt you?” She leaned over him, concern in her eyes.
Kenshin let the arm covering his eyes fall back, trying his best not to let his embarrassment get to him. She knew how fast he came. They had been over his. She didn’t think any less of him because of it. She just wanted to please him, like he wanted to please her. “No, it wasn’t bad. I just don’t understand the need, that’s all.”
She wet the washcloth in the bucket of lukewarm water, wrung it out and started to sweep away the brand new mess that had spread all over his abs.
Well, at least that’s easy like this, Kenshin though judiciously. And to be fair, it felt quite nice as she washed his chest, his stomach, before trailing the wet cloth downwards.
“I’m almost jealous of how little body hair you have.”
Kenshin glanced up at her. Where had that come from? Oh… “Mhhm,” he agreed wordlessly, closing his eyes again. The wet cloth felt quite good on his softening length, too. There was a sense of tranquility spreading over him, from having gone over the edge and come. It was almost fatigue but not quite, rather a calm relaxation that went deeper than sleepiness.
Maybe that was why he didn’t feel too touchy about her idle remark. Well, a bit, but he tried not to let his issues get to him. He knew that she accepted him, even as odd as he was. Also, she wasn’t exactly wrong. As embarrassing as it was to admit, even she had more. Unlike most men, he didn’t have even a hint of hair growing on his chest, or his cheeks. And the little he had elsewhere, well…
“It’s not that I have less, per se. It’s just pale in color.” Kenshin defended weakly, looking aside.
Inhale and exhale…
It felt quite nice just to lie here.
She took a towel and began drying him. He didn’t feel like sitting up and protesting. And if she wanted to, why not? It didn’t take long for her to finish. Without another word, she picked up another towel and began drying her hair.
Her skin was already dry, he noted. It didn’t feel too cold like this, not when the fire crackled beside them, emitting a gentle warmth. It was dark outside. Yet, it wasn’t too late, not enough to retire to bed, at least. The days were just getting short this late in the year.
She was really beautiful sitting there next to him. Her breasts in particular…
“Could I now continue where I left off?” Kenshin turned to his side and motioned towards her chest with his hand.
The corner of her lips twitched in amusement. She was getting better at showing emotion, he noted with certain pride. It still wasn’t easy or natural for her, and the expressions on her face were always slight and fleeting, but he could see her emotions more easily these days. Or perhaps he had just learned to read her better?
“For now,” she allowed with a small nod.
Kenshin tilted his head in question. Just what is that supposed to mean?
“The floor is quite hard, though.” She glanced to the corner of the room where her bed was folded carefully.
Kenshin sighed at the obvious hint and sat up. It wasn’t that he didn’t see her logic, but moving around in their house without even a thread of cloth covering him automatically roused the desire to dress in to yukata, to hide his body from wandering eyes. But then again, what was the point? She wasn’t making any sign of dressing either and she had agreed to continue playing a while longer.
Together they spread open the futon and settled to lie on it. She looked at him just so, glancing down to her breasts, and that was all the invitation he needed. Eagerly, he leaned closer to cherish her breasts, to bestow teasing touches and caresses on her sensitive skin.
Sometime later, just when he was getting to the best part, his fingers slick from her juices as he suckled on her breast, all of a sudden she pressed her hand to his chest, requesting a break. He glanced up in surprise.
What is it now..?
She was panting quietly, her skin flushed with life – not even close to coming, but definitely feeling the heat. Huh, but why would she want to stop now? Surely I haven’t done anything wrong…
She drew breath, and said, “I want to suck you.”
…What? Kenshin gaped, too shocked for words. What? Why? And now?
“Yes, really.” She said like it was nothing scandalous. She collected herself, sitting up slowly and giving a pointed look to his lap. “You are hard again, so I want to suck you.”
Well, yeah… now that she mentioned it, yeah, he was aching with fullness again. But it hadn’t been that long since last time. Why would she want to do it again? Hadn’t once been enough? Kenshin pouted. It was his turn to pleasure her…
Still, when she pushed him to lie on his back, he didn’t protest. It wasn’t like he really could, given how many times she had indulged him in matters like these. Even when she moved downwards and settled herself next to his legs, he didn’t voice his thoughts. Sitting up a bit, he propped himself up to lean on his arms. After all, last time, the best part had been watching her. So if she insisted on this, he would allow her curiosity, no matter how much he would prefer pleasuring her instead.
Seeing her lips so close to his stiff length, a rather terrible thought came to him. He shouldn’t doubt her, but with his nipples, she had bitten and ugh… “Please, carefully,” he pleaded, watching her consider the task at hand.
She glanced at him and let out a tiny huff – almost a scoff? She shook her head and took a gentle hold of his hardness.
And maybe it was wrong of him to doubt her, yet, he couldn’t help but tense when she leaned down...
Why does she even want to do this? This can’t possibly be pleasing to her!
Her red lips parted, and she breathed on his hardness.
It was like a shiver raced through his spine and all the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His eyes impossibly wide, he stared as she leaned forward and took him in her mouth and—
“Ahhh!”
It was so warm and so wet… and it felt so, so good.
Oh gods, this feeling, Kenshin gasped, staring at the ceiling blindly, trying to make sense of the world turned upside down. He felt all the things he had thought he would feel if he were to slip inside her cavern, but at the same time, even his wildest dreams couldn’t match how good it really felt.
Oh gods, oh gods…
He tried to breathe, to get past the overwhelming feelings.
She wasn’t even doing anything. She was just holding the tip of his hardness in her mouth. Why? Why would she…? She glanced up at him through her lashes, and then something inside her mouth stroked him, just so.
“Ughh.” It was her tongue. It had to be.
Ever so slowly, she moved her head up and down gently, letting her lips and tongue caress every bit of his skin inside her mouth. It was maddening. The crawling need to move was there, just at the edge of his senses, but the heat wasn’t overpowering like usual. No, it just… it felt incredibly good.
Struggling to keep breathing, Kenshin tried to find something for his hands to hold onto. He wanted, no needed to do something, but he didn’t know what. And she kept glancing up at him every now and then, teasing the tip of his length. Just the tip. She moved up and down, up and down, torturing him with the sweetest touches he had ever felt.
Her hand was tight around the base of his length, and every so often she squeezed, just a little.
It was terrible.
It was wonderful.
It was utterly horrible and amazing and the best thing he had ever felt and no matter how he hard tried to keep silent, embarrassing noises kept bubbling out of his mouth.
“Aaaah… mnnnhh… Tomoe…. that’s…”
He just couldn’t keep still, stay silent like a proper man should. Not when the warm heat of her mouth surrounded his flesh and her tongue stroked him so gently…
And despite all that, the liquid fire wasn’t there to plague him. The crawling need to move forced him to writhe, had him arching his back and clenching his fingers in the bedding, but he wasn’t coming. He didn’t know why. It didn’t make any sense. By all reason and logic he should have come a dozen times by now, but he just hadn’t. This right now, this was better than he had ever felt, but he wasn’t coming. He should be, but he wasn’t.
And Tomoe – his incredible, wonderful, perfect wife – she was so beautiful with that flush on her cheeks, her eyes half-lidded and looking at him like she knew exactly what she was doing to him as she held him in her mouth, her ruby lips so tantalizingly surrounding his length.
It was the most desirable thing he had ever seen.
And then she sucked.
“AAAHHH… To… mo… e.” He moaned low in his throat.
This, this is… utterly impossible.
Fighting to keep his hips from bucking up, he stared at her, his eyes wide open. There was a sense of urgency, a desperate need to get more, just a little bit more – to end this gentle torture by bucking up. But he couldn’t, forcing too much on her could hurt her, it just wasn’t done. He could never do such a thing to her!
Desperately, he tried to stay still, but the crawling need was making it impossible, so he sat up. He wanted to curl his fingers in her thick hair, but he couldn’t, so he just clenched them in the bedding tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The liquid fire was growing and pooling downwards, and he was aching, aching so badly…
And Tomoe, she kept moving and stroking, sucking and suckling. He couldn’t stand it, he was getting so tense, so very close to the edge. He didn’t want to come; he didn’t want this to end. She was so beautiful right now, but he didn’t know how could he stand this a moment longer.
And when that painful, throbbing pressure burst, it would be a mess… but it was so close.
So close!
“Tomoe,” he panted, trying to find the words to warn her, “it’s close! It’s almost there.” She needed to pull away, but he couldn’t push her!
Her eyes were dark like the night sky, but serious, like she was daring him to…
And then, she dipped her head, taking him in her mouth all the way to the base and sucked hard.
The loose thread that had kept him hanging so precariously close to the edge snapped and he fell.
When he came to and opened his eyes again, she was looking at him with mild concern, stroking his hair gently. His pulse was racing like he had sprinted at his top speed all the way from Kyoto and he was breathing deeply… but he felt good. There was a deep lassitude settling in his limbs, like every need to move had abandoned him.
“Are you alright?” she asked gently.
He nodded… and opened his mouth, trying to find the right words, but in the end he couldn’t manage anything more coherent than, “Thank you.”
She didn’t say anything, just looking at him with a tenderness that he couldn’t name, stroking his hair.
It felt good.
He felt utterly spent, calm… but not tired.
However, there was one thing he was curious about. “Did you know that it would be different the second time?”
“I suspected,” she admitted. “Sometimes it takes me longer to reach the edge the second and third time, no matter how clever you get.”
It made sense, in a way. He had never thought about it before, how a realization he had about her could apply to him. Kenshin sighed. “I love you.”
She smiled a true smile in return.
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Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 15.04.2016.
This One - Chapter 25/40
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Pairings: Kenshin/Tomoe
Word count: 7361
Chapter summary: If there was one thing that would drive chills down Kenshin’s spine every single time, it was the mention of sickness. However, it’s entirely different to be in the role of a healer than a child looking for cure for his sick family. Perhaps, this change of view is even enough to close up old wounds in the process?
Chapter 25 - Competence, in which Kenshin and Tomoe face some trouble, help people and end up growing even closer to each other.
Read the chapter in AO3, FF.net or below the cut!
Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, cunnilingus
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Chapter 25. Competence
Aimi-chan’s family didn’t live far, only about three miles south, Kenshin recalled. It was a relief, because while the girl was tired from her run, she had managed to walk fine on her own, albeit a bit slower than she would have wanted.
Perhaps they could have carried her, just to make haste… however, she wasn’t quite young enough for that to be proper. As a child of seven or eight years, she would have started her education, and started to help out with family duties. There were certain limits to what a stranger, no matter how well-intentioned, could and should do to help her, even in a situation like this.
Her family’s house was built very similarly to theirs, Kenshin couldn’t help but note. Mountains shadowed its back, fields surrounding the other three sides. Only one patch still had crops growing, but the plants were ready to be harvested – a stark difference to his own half-grown, half-drowned seedlings.
We really were too late to try farming… Kenshin mused, frowning a bit. Despite the afternoon sun still being high in the sky, no one was taking advantage of the precious hours of daylight. Not one soul was outside, looking for the child who had run away…
The sickness.
Kenshin shivered, dreading the very thought of stepping inside the silent house. How bad would it be?
Hopefully not cholera… please, anything but cholera.
Before they could knock on the door, or announce their presence in any way, little Aimi-chan pushed the door open, and called out loudly, “Mama, mama! I got Kenshin-san to come! He came, he and Tomoe-san!”
“You foolish girl! You didn’t!” an older woman’s roughened voice all but growled, followed by heavy footsteps as Aimi-chan’s mother stepped out. She was not very tall nor very old, but her hair had strands of gray and her face was etched with deep lines around her mouth and eyes. A lifetime of hard work had worn all delicacy out of her. She was a true farmer’s wife, used to helping out in the fields when necessary.
And more than anything, she looked weary.
Kenshin had met her before, when they had come this way to sell medicines. Instantly he remembered why they hadn’t come back again. Her eyes were hard, full of judgement and wariness. She was looking at him like he was a snake in her garden patch, or a spider in her kitchen, something unpleasant and to be rid of quickly.
What was her name, again?
Her husband was Kichirou, if he remembered right. Aimi-chan he remembered well, because she had been so curious about him earlier. Kenshin paused, searching for that one word that just might be enough to lessen her distrust a bit… Oh, yes. That’s what it was. “Midori-san, your daughter told us that your family is sick?” Kenshin bowed politely, careful to keep his voice neutral. “We are here to offer our assistance.”
Not straightening yet, he waited, as was custom. If she wanted to turn down their offer just out of spite, she would have to do it in the harshest way possible.
Beside him, Kenshin felt Tomoe’s ki flickering with warmth and he spared her a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. She nodded at him in approval. So this was a correct choice, then? Maybe he was finally getting a hang of this kind of thing, approaching strangers and presenting matters correctly.
“It’s true,” the farmer’s wife sighed, her pugnacious wariness bleeding out of her, leaving behind true exhaustion. “Then, I will graciously accept your offer, Himura-san, Tomoe-san.”
Kenshin straightened, noting how she bowed in return. A hint less than he had? She didn’t trust him yet, then. But that was fine – veiled distrust was far better than open hatred.
She stood up and stepped aside, inviting them inside her house.
It turned out that her menfolk, her husband and both of her teenage sons, were all sick with fever. It was quite worrying. Fevers stole countless lives every year, but it was nothing unexpected given the season and heavy rainfall. All three of the men had worked hard harvesting the fields, and under duress had caught cold before they had finished the last one.
Thankfully, Kenshin’s medicine chest had herbs to reduce fever, and it was a common enough ailment that even he was familiar with the treatments.
So was Midori-san. She had already done her best to keep the men hydrated, feeding them broth and wiping their brows and chests with cool, wet cloth. However, she’d run out of herbs, and after three days of keeping watch over the sick, she had lost her temper when the fever had taken a bad turn that morning… so Aimi-chan had panicked, rushing to fetch him and Tomoe.
Though the situation wasn’t nearly as dire as he had feared, it seemed that their help was needed – if only to keep watch while Midori-san rested. Tomoe hadn’t had to work hard to convince the headstrong woman to gather a bunch of blankets and curl up in the corner to sleep. Midori-san had been on her last leg, truly.
Now, Kenshin was mixing some yarrow powder into tea. According to the medicine packets, it would help reduce fever.
Tomoe was wiping the youngest son's brow with a wet cloth, his fever still alarmingly high. He pushed a cup of tea to her, and helped her lift the boy up enough so that he could drink. Beside them, the oldest son was sleeping fitfully, but for him the worst seemed to be over.
Aimi-chan was following them around curiously. She had already helpfully informed them that the boys were named Ichirou and Noburou.
It was a given, of course, that the oldest son was named Ichirou. The name literally meant first son. Kenshin shook his head in dry amusement, turning to check on the farmer, Kichirou-san. His fever wasn’t too high anymore, but he had started to develop a rather worrying cough.
There should be something to treat that, too… Kenshin frowned, going back to rummage through the medicine chest. He couldn’t even tell how thankful he was that their ailments were so common, so ordinary. No matter the unpleasant smell of old sweat, the unmistakable scent of sickness lingering in the air, this he knew how to handle.
Aimi-chan followed everything he did, her eyes guileless as she peppered him with questions.
It felt somewhat strange.
Why had she glued herself to his side? Hadn’t she already looked to Tomoe for comfort? Well, yeah, she had… when she had been afraid. But now that her father and brothers were getting help and the situation seemed to be under control, Aimi-chan didn’t have anything to hold back her natural curiosity about his oddities.
Somehow, he didn’t know why, Kenshin found himself indulging her with answers of the most meaningless nature. Yes, he was Japanese. Yes, his hair was red. Yes, it had always been red. He didn’t know why, it just was. Yes, his skin and eyes were really pale and yes, he knew he looked weird. Yes, he was short… and yes, he was old enough to be an adult and yes, he was married to the pretty lady Tomoe.
It was exasperating.
But little Aimi-chan was just a child and didn’t know better. It wasn’t like he could get angry at her. Besides, with Tomoe’s calming presence at his side, knowing that she wanted him and appreciated him as her husband, the little girl’s rude prying just didn’t matter. Before, yes, he would have gotten defensive. He would have gotten downright angry… but now, what did it matter if people thought him odd? He was odd, but Tomoe liked him anyway.
So patiently, Kenshin answered every question, until her well of curiosity ran dry… and the girl paused, staring at him with large, guileless eyes. “Kenshin-san, you are odd – but nice.”
Kenshin raised his eyebrows in surprise.
The girl giggled at him. “You don’t get mad no matter what I ask and you explain things so that I can understand them,” she explained enthusiastically, reaching to hug him. “I really like you, Kenshin-san!”
Within her tight grip, he was flabbergast, totally at loss for how to react.
A tiny coughing sound came from behind him. A laugh..? Kenshin glanced at Tomoe over his shoulder, a slightly betrayed look on his face.
Aimi-chan burst into uncontrollable giggles, letting go of him to wrap her arms around her stomach. “The look... on your face,” she managed to wheeze between her hilarity.
Tomoe’s ki warmed up, too, her eyes softening with affection.
Kenshin scoffed and looked aside, trying to hide the heat rising on his cheeks. Curse his pale skin. It showed his embarrassment no matter what he did. Yet, no matter how awkward it was, it wasn’t bad to hear them laugh. Maybe it was even a good thing? It wasn’t like it hurt anyone.
Rubbing his reddened face, he huffed fondly and returned to his task.
A smile wormed its way onto his lips, too.
—
They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening caring for the sick, helping as best they could. It was nightfall when Midori-san woke up from her exhausted slumber. Tiredly, she set more tea to boil before saying gruffly, “You two might as well stay the night. It’s too dark to travel.”
There wasn’t much Kenshin could say to argue with the statement. While he could have made the trip alone, it would be difficult for Tomoe. Besides, both of them were still quite worried about the boys. The youngest son’s fever had yet to break.
So Midori showed them to a corner where they could sleep and gave them a few blankets. Tomoe accepted her offerings graciously. She seemed tired, truly. But as they set the blankets down, using a couple of them as a makeshift mattress, she glanced at him worriedly, inclining her head to Midori-san, who was settling down near the fire pit’s waning light, keeping watch over her family… and finally, Kenshin realized that they might have a problem.
He felt tired enough to sleep, yes. But this was far from the comfortable safety of their own house. Harmless as he thought Midori-san to be, she and her family were still people sharing the same space as him. But there was no way he could decline the offer to stay any more, now could he? And what if the youngest boy’s fever worsened during the night? What if Midori-san needed more help?
Kenshin tensed, the trap of social obligations and the situation starting to choke him. Forcing himself to stay calm, he drew a blanket around his shoulders and leaned his back against the solid wall.
In silence, Tomoe sat next to him, close enough to be there for him, but not touching him… nor blocking his escape routes.
He noted it all, a hint of shame twisting his gut.
She had learned to live with his issues. And while he was grateful for her acceptance, the calm way she dealt with it… none of this was normal. He wasn’t normal.
But it was what it was.
Midori-san made a good attempt at ignoring them, but every now and then he caught her covert glances.
It made him wish he had his sword cradled against his shoulder, something safe for his hands to hold on to. An impossible wish, of course. For these people, he was a medicine seller, not a swordsman. Yet, it felt like something essential was missing. Tiredness tugged at his eyelids, luring him to close his eyes, but the ki presences around him, the crackling of fire, the rustle of cloth as Midori-san changed position spurred on the restlessness inside him, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.
He knew he needed to fall asleep.
It was expected of him. It was expected of every normal person after a difficult day. But how could he sleep when he felt like crawling out of his skin?
The worry that this wasn’t ever going to work was brewing inside him, ready to flare up into full blown certainty, when Tomoe slipped her hand out from the cocoon of her blanket and grabbed his hand, squeezing it... slipping her fingers between his.
Her eyes were tainted with worry.
Then, slowly, she started to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb.
It was an idle motion, but for some reason, it felt comforting. Kenshin inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the noises, the flickering ki presences of the others in the house. They were simple farmers, not a threat. They were his neighbors and they owed him and Tomoe a debt of gratitude…
Tomoe was breathing steadily. She had closed her eyes and her face was relaxed, yet she continued to stroke his hand with steady motions, up and down, up and down, ever so gentle and consistent. In the waning light she looked so beautiful that something in his chest ached.
My wife, my beautiful, wonderful wife… always there by my side.
Gods, he loved her so much that it hurt.
…And her thumb continued its idle motions on his skin.
Kenshin closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on that feeling, on her familiar, warm ki presence, her steady breathing.
She was there for him. There was no threat. And he was tired. The sounds of her breathing, the steady warmth by his side, the safety of her ki that felt like nothing less than home…
My wife.
It was almost easy to fall asleep.
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The next morning, Kenshin woke up feeling disgruntled and confused. There were a lot of presences around him, there were cooking noises and mumbling talk… Where am I? Kenshin blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The house looked similar, but it was decidedly not theirs. Panic flared inside him, until he felt Tomoe’s familiar and comforting presence.
Then his memories aligned. Oh, so this is our neighbor's house?
Tomoe was there, holding up a boy lying on his back, helping him eat. The boy was Noburou, the family’s youngest son, who had been so very sick yesterday.
However, the rest of the family was gathered around the firepit to eat, Midori-san handing a bowl of broth to her husband, Kishirou-san, and then to the oldest son, Ichirou… Huh.
“You are awake!” An enthusiastic face popped up right in front of him, smiling wildly. “Finally! I waited so looooong! Here, I helped to make breakfast for you, Kenshin-san!”
Dazedly he accepted the bowl and chopsticks she pushed into his hands, too stunned for words.
For a while he stared at the simple miso and rice, before finally starting to eat. Why am I this out of it? However, food was food, and he was hungry… Come to think of it, he and Tomoe had skipped last evening's dinner entirely, hadn’t they? They had been so busy taking care of the sick, they had forgotten to even ask about the possibility of food.
Well, no wonder…
“Morning dear,” Tomoe greeted him softly, kneeling by his side and whispering into his ear with a low voice. “You slept so fitfully that I thought it best to let you sleep as long as you could.”
Kenshin nodded gratefully. To be perfectly truthful, he was a little amazed that he had managed to sleep at all surrounded by strangers.
It was a difficulty Tomoe certainly didn’t share. Even now, not a hint of shadow ringed her eyes. No, she looked as calm and serene as always. She glanced at their neighbors, gathered to eat breakfast together, and in particular, at one enthusiastic little girl waving at them.
“We should join them,” she murmured softly.
“Yes,” he agreed, handing her his half empty bowl for a moment so he could slip out of his nest of blankets.
She followed his actions, shaking her head fondly before rising to her feet and heading to the fire pit. Their neighbors eagerly made room for her, even the gruff Midori-san greeting her warmly.
“Kenshin-san! Kenshin-san, come and eat! There is plenty left for you!” little Aimi-chan shouted invitingly, drawing half-amused, half-exasperated looks from her family.
“You found a new target? Sweet,” the oldest son, Ichirou, scoffed, “for once you aren’t bugging me, little terror.”
“I’m not a terror!” the little girl denied cheerfully as she dashed over to Kenshin, grabbing his hand boldly and pulling him up to join them.
Unable to contain his smile, Kenshin huffed and allowed himself to be dragged over to join the polite company. Before he had time to think twice, he was sitting next to Tomoe and had a full bowl in his hands.
Ichirou was sitting across from him, eyeing him with slight distrust. He was a young teenager, maybe 12 or so years old – a child, still, no matter the wiriness of his shoulders and the roughness of his hands. No doubt he helped his father in the fields daily. Despite his paleness, he was in a lot better health than yesterday.
Apparently the yarrow mixture in his tea had broken his fever.
The same could be said of his father. The farmer, Kichirou-san, still had a persistent cough and he seemed weary, but he didn’t seem feverish or delirious anymore. It was a relief. If he took it easy for a few days, he would definitely make it.
Only the youngest son, Noburou was still battling with the remnants of his fever, but even he was not quite as bad as he had been last night, or so Midori-san informed him with a certain softness in her gruff manner.
No, the worst was over now and the whole family seemed grateful for their help.
However, the breakfast and the tea that followed it were good for conversation and given how new Kenshin and Tomoe were to the area and how they hadn’t spoken much with anyone… it didn’t take much to rouse the family’s curiosity. After a few rounds of idle chitchat, they finally got to the topic of farming.
“So I gather that you are new to farming, Kenshin-san?” Kichirou-san asked with a pointed look.
Kenshin felt the heat rising on his cheeks and looked aside. “Well, yes…” he murmured, “I just wanted to try it after we moved here. No matter how few plants would make it, they would be something to store for winter.”
“A worthy idea, but I doubt your crops will survive.” Kichirou-san smiled, a shadow of his usual jovial mood. “The rainfall was unusually heavy this year. I hurried to pull out my own, which of course got us into this pinch.“
“I have tried to drain the excess water from the field, but the leaves have already browned,” Kenshin explained. “I don’t know what else I can do, to be perfectly truthful.”
“There is not much else you can do,” Kichirou rumbled. “Keep at it. Maybe it will stave off the worst of the rot, until the rains let up.”
“Say, Tomoe-san…” Midori-san said, joining in the conversation, “I hear that you are newlyweds.”
Tomoe nodded politely. “That’s right; we were married right before moving here, at the end of summer.”
“Is there cause to offer congratulations for children? I remember it didn’t take us too long to have Ichirou.” Midori-san smiled, a spark of mischief in her eyes.
At his side, Tomoe stiffened in surprise, her ki sharpening all of the sudden.
He too felt stunned by the question, but then again… wasn’t it typical for married people to have children?
…But Tomoe and I, we haven’t even thought about it, Kenshin realized, his eyes snapping wide open. It wasn’t that he didn’t know why. With war on the horizon, with the Ishin Shishi, the rebellion and everything else, the concept of children was so far out of the realm of possibility that it hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“The times are difficult and we are yet young,“ Tomoe said calmly, her ki gaining a frostier shade… but her voice was sad?
He glanced up at her, caught by the idea. A family of his own, a family with her – it was a tantalizing thought, so sweet and perfect, if utterly terrifying in its wonder. That sadness of hers, there was no doubt that she yearned for a family, too. But even if they wanted to, it wasn’t a possibility, not until the war was over, until the Ishin Shishi didn’t need him… and how long would that take? Months? Years? An eternity?
He swallowed, something thick and bitter rising to block his throat.
It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t… but it was what it was. He had almost forgotten the reality of why they were living here in the countryside, but the fact was, he was committed to the Ishin Shishi’s cause. When the call came, he would have to answer, no matter how badly it broke his heart.
Tomoe looked at him with serious eyes, her sadness hidden behind her eyes, just under the surface. She too had forgotten the war and the rebellion.
An awkward silence fell.
“Kenshin-san! What does your name mean?” A bright voice cut through the veil of silence like knife through melted butter. “My name means lovely beauty.” Aimi-chan grinned, her eyes guileless. Clearly, for her, a pause in adult conversation clearly meant a chance for her to introduce her own topic.
For a second Kenshin wasn’t sure how to react to the question. It came out of the blue, tactless and even rude… but at the same time, Aimi-chan was so innocent and joyful that it was impossible to resist her curiosity for long. And truthfully, it would be good to talk of less serious matters. “That’s good name. It suits you.” He murmured after the slightest of pauses, struggling to pull on a smile. He too had liked the meanings of names when he had been young. “My name is written with sword and heart.”
“Oh? That’s unusual.” Kichirou raised his brow. “I would have assumed it was modest truth. That’s a far more common name.”
“Errr…” Kenshin stammered, but didn’t continue despite the obvious prompt.
Kichirou-san was right in his remark, thought. It wasn’t typical to start a name, nevertheless the name of a commoner, with such a harsh word as sword. But then again, Kenshin liked his name. It was one of the last ties he had to Master, and even now it meant a lot to him…and privately, he even thought it suited him. A lot better than Shinta did, at times. He was far from the gentle soul he had been as a child. Not that he could tell any of that to these people. These days, he was supposed to be just a medicine seller.
Midori-san was frowning at him, clearly deep in thought. Had his thoughtless words roused her suspicions again?
“Aimi-chan is a nice name,” Tomoe murmured, joining in the conversation. “However, I am curious why it is so different from the boys’ names?”
Midori-san blinked, turning to look at her, but seeing the comment was not in criticism, she scoffed in amusement. “I let my dear husband here name the boys against my better judgement. I should have known this big lump here would choose such a ridiculous theme.”
“Hey, it’s a time honored tradition!” the farmer protested.
“So it is.” Midori-san smiled, shaking her head, before reaching to stroke her daughter's hair. “However, when Aimi was born, I had to put my foot down and pick a sensible name for my little girl.”
Which of course spurred protests from both of them, little Aimi-chan for having her hair messed up, and Kichirou vehemently arguing that it was far stranger to have an obvious hiccup in a naming theme than a girl with the name first daughter. The oldest son followed the argument with an exasperated air, like he had heard it a thousand times.
It was amusing to follow their quarreling, especially when the kids started shooting off their own remarks, stirring up the mess the best they could. In the chaos, Kenshin and Tomoe were left naturally as spectators, but it wasn’t awkward at all. No, somehow, it was nice to see people who were so down to earth and just happy together.
They left their neighbors’ house that afternoon, when the second son Noburou finally seemed to be on the mend. His fever had broken and he had woken up enough to eat.
Kenshin left the family a package of fever reducing yarrow mix just in case, reminding them not to take any chances. When it came to payment, Midori-san had offered money to him discreetly as they were leaving.
He declined the offer and said, “It’s enough that your family will get better.”
“I see.” Midori-san nodded thoughtfully, “Then you have my gratitude, Himura-san.” She grimaced, and slipped her light coin purse back into her sleeve. “The year has been difficult. I suspect that won’t change for quite some time.”
“That’s true,” he murmured, glancing at Tomoe. She was following Aimi-chan, who was showing her something in the yard, a distinct warmth in her ki.
“Aimi-chan could use an example of proper behavior for a young lady,” Midori-san remarked after a while.
“Tomoe likes children.” Kenshin noted in answer, an idea resurfacing from the back of his mind. He paused, wetting his lips. “You could send the kids to our place when you want peace and quiet. It would be no trouble for us to look after them.”
Midori-san raised her brow, looking him once over. “I think we could do that. Thank you, Kenshin-san.”
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Midori-san was good on her word and sent all three of her children to their house only a week later. The boys had almost completely recovered, and after having been confided indoors for days, were energetic to the point of driving each other crazy from boredom. For them, a visit to a new place was an enticing prospect, despite the fact that their usual rougher play was forbidden. Likewise, Aimi-chan was enthusiastic about the visit and glued herself to Tomoe’s side immediately, peppering her with questions.
While Tomoe kept the children company, Kenshin tried to spend the time by chopping wood and doing other miscellaneous chores in the yard. The keyword being tried – because as soon as Aimi-chan managed to steal Tomoe’s attention, the boys wandered over to pester him. He didn’t know how it happened, but somehow in mere moments he was pulled in to play a few of the more common games with them.
The games were nothing too difficult or too taxing, just simple games children tended to play together that tested memory, wit and balance – and more than a few of them were familiar to the point of recognition from his own childhood, what felt like a lifetime ago.
Tomoe had been unanimously chosen as the scorekeeper, and she had accepted the role with a warm look entering her eyes.
The hours ran like the wind and before Kenshin knew it, the kids declared that he was fun company. It was utterly mind-boggling. As a child, no one but his own brothers had ever been willing to play with him and as a student of Hiten Mitsurugi there had been no games at all… The kids laughed at his surprise, promising that they would definitely return as soon as they got permission again.
All together, the day had been a success, in more ways than one. For the kids, for Tomoe, and even for him, no matter how strange it had been to be invited to play.
Now though, the sun had set and they were alone, engaging in a somewhat different game – his favorite past time, trying to find new ways to pleasure his wife. Kenshin smiled, taking in the sheer beauty of his wife as she lay on the bedding, naked as the day she was born. A sheen of sweat covered her skin as she breathed deeply, her gaze half-lidded in post-orgasmic bliss.
Her nipples stood up pert, red and glistening with his saliva. He sat beside her, still dressed in his indoor yukata, simply admiring her.
She was so beautiful like this.
His left hand was slick with her juices, and in idle curiosity he lifted it to his face and sniffed at it. He didn’t know why, but the scent wasn’t unpleasant at all. It was odd, slightly musky… but not in any way repulsive. Almost compelled by his curiosity, he licked his fingers, tasting it.
It was still odd. The texture was slippery, but it wasn’t bad, not at all. Continuing to lick his fingers clean, he looked at her consideringly. Her breasts were so sensitive and she seemed to really like it when he suckled on them. In fact, she had said something to that effect, hadn’t she? That it felt good to feel his tongue against her skin?
And her center was even more sensitive than her breasts, so what if…?
“Kenshin, what are you doing?”
Huh? Kenshin blinked in surprise.
She had sat up, propping herself up on her arms, and she was looking at him curiously, a hint of a scandalized blush on her cheeks as she stared at his fingers.
“Uh…” He slipped his hand away, hiding his fingers within his sleeve in embarrassment. None of the men at the inn had bragged about doing anything like that, so maybe it was somewhat of a dirty idea, but… “Errr, I’d like to try something,” he managed to say.
There was a hint of a frown between her brows as she stared at him and he hurried to explain. “You taste good…so, maybe, I could lick you? Down there?
“Kenshin…” She hesitated. “I, I… don’t know.”
“Let me try,” he insisted, feeling a bit more confident. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
He truly wanted to try this. If it worked, she would feel good, he was absolutely sure of it. While he had gotten quite good at playing with her breasts and pumping at her cavern with his fingers, there was only so much he could do like that.
He wanted her to feel good; it was as simple as that.
Maybe she could see some of the determination in his eyes, because after some hesitation, she gave him a single nod and spread her legs apart invitingly.
He grinned at her show of trust, settling to lie between her legs. Her thighs were so smooth, her skin pale and silky under his fingertips, and between her legs lay a dark nest of curls. He bit his lip in consideration, before reaching to spread her folds open carefully with his fingers and then leaned down to lick the glistening wetness on her swollen, pink skin. Her musk was heavy, almost tangy on his tongue… The headiness of the scent went straight into his bloodstream.
“Uhh…”
Just a lick and she is already vocal? Definitely a good idea, Kenshin decided on the spot.
He knew from earlier experience that while her cavern was sensitive, it was the raised folds over it that got the best responses out of her. He had never seen them before, but he had stroked them many times. Maybe it was safest to start there? Besides, he wasn’t all that sure what exactly he could do to her cavern with his tongue…. but licking her folds? That he could definitely do. Somewhat tentatively, he leaned to lick her again, starting to work at it slowly, carefully, long and steady licks over her sensitive skin.
Her moans and gasps were good indicators which strokes were good and which weren’t, he noted with certain delight. The taste of her juices was really growing on him. True, at first the taste had been odd, but hearing her pleasure… oh yes, he liked this idea.
“Oh… mmhn… nnnh…”
She too was getting used to the sensation, judging by the way her voice got lower, more relaxed in her pleasure. Her thighs quivered against his shoulders enticingly.
So maybe, I could dare to…? Kenshin paused, concentrating. The center of her folds, it was a spot so sensitive that she always gasped when he touched it. Carefully, he licked it, teasing it a bit… before drawing breath and suckling on it.
“Kenshin!” she yelled, her voice almost breathless in surprise as she tensed, digging her fingers deep into the bedding, arching her back upwards. Immediately he pulled back, raising his gaze to look at her.
Her eyes were wide, almost wild… and she was panting like never before. Her cheeks were flushed prettily with life.
She gulped for breath, before demanding, “Do it again.”
He grinned, and obliged. It didn’t take all that long for him to begin wondering about her cavern, though. As nice as the responses to his licking and suckling her folds were, it wasn’t quite what he was hoping for. He shifted his weight to his left side and traced her opening with his fingers.
Slowly, he pressed one finger in.
It looked quite nice as it sank in her, he noted with a certain thrill. It was so warm and wet, her flesh so pliable against his skin and her juices were just pooling out. What would it look like if he pressed something thicker in her...?
Her moans made her agreement with this new idea pretty clear. Gently he started to push his finger in and out, in and out of her heat, getting used to the motion before returning to licking her folds.
“Kenshin… more,” she pleaded as she writhed on the mattress, her thighs trembling against his shoulders. The liquid fire was finally flowing in her veins, bringing with it the terrible urgency, the need for release. He had wondered. Usually she was faster than this, but then again, she had already come once, right before this whim of his.
Concentrating, he slipped another finger inside her, curling his fingers just so, the exact way he knew she liked.
“Oh, yes... just like that,” she groaned low.
Her panting deepened and she arched her back again, clenching her fingers tightly on the bedding, seeking something to anchor her. She was definitely close. Sweat was shining on her skin. Time to bring her over the edge, he decided, and suckled hard on her clit, pumping his fingers in her cavern fast and hard.
“Ughnhhh.” She trembled all over, so tense, like a string drawn to its snapping point… and then, “Kenshiiiiiin!” she wailed, her juices flooding on his tongue like a wave of sweet nectar.
Wheezing desperately, she relaxed… utterly spent.
Slipping his fingers out, he gave one last lick to her folds before sitting up. He couldn’t help looking at her in admiration, this feeling of pride swelling inside him. He could do this forever and ever, he mused, no matter how numb his jaw felt right now. Idly, he wiped his face clean from her juices with his sleeve.
She was so perfect, so beautiful, so kind… she obliged his curiosities and tactfully ignored his faults and constant failures. He sighed. He was truly blessed to have a wife like her.
The heat of the moment had caught him, as well, bringing sweat to his skin and a terrible ache to his loins. He didn’t mind the painful pressure, not really. No matter how uncomfortable it felt, it was better just to ignore the ache while he worked to pleasure her. Ensuring her happiness was the best thing he had ever felt. It let him ignore his shortcomings, the knowledge that a good husband should be able to have sex with her, to please her just like most men could.
Like he… just couldn’t.
Even if he did sometimes wonder about the possibility, what it would feel like to slip inside her, to feel her warmth pulsing around him…
Kenshin sighed.
It would be useless endeavor.
The moment her fingers even brushed over his crotch, he was close to coming. How could he ever bring her over the edge when he couldn’t keep it up for even a minute or two? He was odd, weird, and a failure. So instead of hopelessly wondering, it was better like this. With his mouth and fingers, he could please her and it was good, for them both. And he loved seeing her like this…
Kenshin glanced at her, but she wasn’t panting anymore. Instead, there was a hint of a frown on her brow.
Uh oh…
“What is it?” he asked, somewhat worried. She had been pleased with him earlier, so why was she frowning? What had he done wrong now?
“Kenshin, come lie with me,” she invited, patting the spot next to her.
Errr, well… I can do that. Hesitantly, he climbed over her legs and lay on his side next to her, propping his head up with his arm.
She turned to her side as well, facing him.
Her ki felt warm, but there was obvious concern in her eyes. Slowly, as non-threateningly as possibly, she raised her hand and traced his cheek.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. He was getting better at enjoying her touch, the growing closeness between them. But still, why did she look so troubled? He had thought he had done well – she had seemed to like it.
He had liked it, too.
“I love the care you bestow upon me,” she whispered finally. Her eyes were dark like a starry sky, soft and loving. But why was there that frown between her brows? “But I feel selfish for enjoying it so, like a bad wife.”
…What? His eyes flew open in surprise. “But, but… you are so perfect? How could you feel selfish?”
The corners of her mouth tugged up a bit. “Because I get so much enjoyment from these moments, but you almost never come.”
That didn’t make much sense – at all. “But I like making you come.” He hurried to explain, to nip this doubt of hers in the bud as soon as possible. “I feel good just watching you. I like to please you. I truly do!“ he added almost desperately. She shouldn’t feel selfish, like she was a bad wife when she was anything but!
And, and… he really didn’t want to face his failures again. Not again. Not like that, like he was just a little kid in a man’s skin. No, this subject was definitely too embarrassing for words. He looked aside, hiding from her gaze even as his ears burned.
“Kenshin, I know you like pleasuring me. It’s obvious how much you like it. And I like it too, but…”
“But..?” He risked a quick glance. The damnable frown was still there!
Slowly, she trailed her hand down his jaw, moving it lower, trailing his arm, his side...all the way until her hand found his groin. Purposefully, but ever so gently, she pressed her palm against his hardness. There were layers of cloth between her touch and yet, it felt like a crawling need to move, to do something, anything, flared in him, thrumming inside his bones and skin and veins.
“Ugh,” he grunted, bracing himself against the incoming wave.
Her caress turned softer, almost teasing, and a liquid fire rose in his veins.
No, no… Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut, but the need to escape was stronger. Tense as a springboard, he backed out of her touch, gulping for air. The feeling of betrayal was bitter salt on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered harshly.
Her eyes were serious, but her ki was warm and steady. She tilted her head to the side and asked calmly, like it was an entirely reasonable thing to ask, “Why not? Why can’t I make you feel good too?”
And maybe it was, but, but… he just…
He couldn’t look at her, not for this. He loved her, trusted her, but he also wanted to be a proper husband, a man she could be proud of. He wanted to please her, to do anything and everything he could for her, but the fact was… “I am such a failure.” He admitted in a low voice, feeling worse about himself than he had in months.
“How so?” she asked, still calm and collected, like they were talking about the weather.
“I, I… I, ah – all men should be able to stay hard, to please their women like that. To have sex, I mean. But, but... I know I can’t. If we did that, I would come so fast and it would be a horrible mess and then it would be over and I would embarrass myself and disappoint you and I can’t even bring you over the edge like that. I know I can’t,” he babbled, trying to explain, to make her see why it just wasn’t possible.
“Are you sure all men can? How can you know?” she asked, almost curiously?
He stole a glance at her. She didn’t look disappointed. No, instead it was like… she was perplexed? Like she truly didn’t know this.
“Uh…” When had he come to this certainty, if she didn’t know it? Kenshin crinkled his brow, rubbing the area between his brows idly, trying to remember. “It’s just… people have always said so. When I was in the Kiheitai, the other soldiers spoke over the campfire about stuff like that. The samurai at Okami-san’s inn, after they came back from Shimabara, were even worse. Iizuka-san, too. Even Master, when he teased me.”
“So, every man says so, thus it must be true?”
Why is her tone so dry? Kenshin paused, staggered to see such skepticism on her face. “Errr, yes,” he murmured hesitantly. Wasn’t it so? Why would all those men be lying to each other? They hadn’t known he was listening…
Her tone remained dry as she observed calmly, “Listening to women talk, it seems that all men are pigs. None of them can bring any pleasure to their wives. So, a proper wife should just lie on her back and let a man do whatever he wants as long as it last. When he is done, a dutiful wife will let him sleep and will finish the job herself.”
Eyes wide in disbelief, Kenshin lips parted, protests ready on his tongue. That, that… “That doesn’t make any sense!”
Her gaze softened, and the corners of her lips rose, just barely enough to resemble – a grin?
“Doesn’t it?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
The realization dawned, sudden as lightning coming down out of a clear sky as he compared both versions of the story, and then relief flooded in him; he wasn’t abnormal or a failure. It wasn’t about him. It could even be common. The insane feeling was so overwhelming that uncontrolled laughter sprung free from his lips. He covered his eyes with his hands, as he curled up, laughing wildly in sheer relief.
Oh gods, all this time…
All this panic and stress, all these fears… over a thing that could be perfectly normal? What had Master said to him when he was young? You think too much, but don’t think enough to ask? It seemed so very fitting, right at this moment.
I truly am an idiot.
It took a while to calm down, to breathe normally and master his hysterical and utterly undignified giggling. When he finally managed it, he saw her looking at him fondly.
“I love you, you silly husband of mine.”
He smiled at her in relief. It felt really good to hear those words from her, to hear it out loud that she loved him, too. That their feelings were mutual.
They loved each other; it was as simple as that.
She patted the spot next to her.
And this time... this time he didn’t hesitate, moving to her side and kissing her.
Her fingers trailed across his cheek before she slipped them into his hair, pulling him closer and kissing him in return.
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Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 08.04.2016.





