Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Tanabata Jasmine ❯ Tears ( Chapter 27 )

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all associated characters do not belong to me, and I am writing for fun and not profit. This is distinctly preferable to profit and not fun, but then I've always had odd priorities.

 

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Tanabata Jasmine Chapter 27

 

 

“I still think Kenshin should've let me punch the guy.”

 

 

Given that she'd heard this particular line at least twice before during her stint in the kitchen, Kaoru felt justified in being annoyed. “Mou, Sanosuke! Will you just let it rest?” She waved the knife in the air to emphasise her request. “It's not like it was worth it! If Kenshin wanted to hurt Bayushi he was perfectly capable of doing it himself!”

 

 

Sano grinned at her lazily, although she noted with some satisfaction that he took a casual step out of the reach of her arms. “Not the point, Jou-chan. I'm not talking about what Kenshin wanted. That old guy was a self-righteous, whiny bastard. I could have done with taking him down a peg or two.”

 

 

A sentiment she'd heard from him far too many times over the last two days. Kaoru shook her head, biting her lip in concentration as she did her very best to slice the watermelon evenly. Omasu had offered to cut it for her and prepare a tray, but she'd declined for the sheer sake of something to do with her time while she waited for Kenshin to awaken.

 

 

He'd roused from sleep once or twice yesterday to utter slurred and incoherent words to them, before drifting off once more. Early this morning his fever had broken, leaving him to sleep the day away more naturally. I[Author ID1: at Fri Mar 11 00:55:00 2005 ]n mid afternoon, she'd forced herself to leave his room for a short while, if only to appease Sano's demand that she get some fresh air - although she was beginning to think he just wanted somebody to ramble at. Kenshin's life was hardly in danger; she knew he didn't need her constant vigil over his health. But thoughts of what he might have gone through in the nine days of his imprisonment - particularly given his condition when they found him - kept her at his side.

 

 

When he finally awoke, she wanted him to see a friendly face. Not because she thought he needed the reassurance - he was far stronger than that - but because she knew that if he woke alone, the idiot would struggle out of bed to find them and do his best to pretend he was fine. Kaoru fully intended to force him to stay on that futon for at least another two days, if she had to tie him down to do it.

 

 

“Oi, Jou-chan. You listening?”

 

She looked up to Sano's impatient glance as he leaned against the bench, hands in pockets. “What?”

 

 

Sano gave a noncommittal grunt as he watched her carve. “I said, Aoshi seemed to know a lot. I wonder how he knew Aki and Hiro were coming to town?”

 

 

Well, it was a different subject, at least. “Aoshi is the former Okashira of the Oniwabanshu,” she pointed out with mild exasperation. “As someone with a spy network all through Kyoto, you'd think he'd know these things.”

 

 

“Could've just said so. Could've just said, I'm a ninja master, you'd be surprised what we pick up.”

 

 

“Very funny.” She paused to wipe sweat away from her forehead, and gave him a fleeting smile. He was trying to make her laugh. She appreciated it. “Although I'd question the wisdom of insulting the ninja master in his own home.”

 

 

Another grunt. He stayed where he was, peering at the chopping board in front of her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. It occurred to her that Sano was just as restless as she was, poking fun and making idle conversation just to pass the time. They all were; if she paused the knife in its work, she would be able to hear Yahiko practicing down in the courtyard. He'd been at it most of the day. Part of the reason she had come to the kitchen for watermelon was to lure him out of the sun to take a break. Aoshi had gone out, Misao practically skipping beside him - Kaoru wasn't sure, but she thought they might have gone to the police to find out if there was any more information.

 

 

The room Kenshin left Yamato Dayu in had been empty by the time the police arrived. The officer had apparently recovered enough to make his escape from the estate and evade arrest. Kaoru didn't believe that he would make an attack on the rurouni while he was safely nestled amongst friends at the Aoiya, but his disappearance was cause for concern, particularly when she considered that neither Senzo nor Bayushi had seemed the type to deliberately inflict pain on a person. A ruthless killer who hates Battousai with a passion, Aoshi had said. Kaoru scowled determinedly. If Yamato was stupid enough to show up here, she was more than willing to send him on his way to the police so battered that he wouldn't remember his own name.

 

 

She blinked as a hand reached across and deftly stilled the knife's movement. Sano gave her a lopsided grin. “Slice it, not stab at it until it screams. I knew your cooking was lousy, Jou-chan, but I thought even you could manage this.”

 

 

She peered down at the now mutilated fruit, cheeks flushing faintly in embarrassment. “Oh, shut up.” She rescued what she could, propping the slices up crookedly on a tray. “Make yourself useful and tell Yahiko I've cut the watermelon.”

 

 

“You're frightening him off so there's more for us, right?”

 

 

She glared. “Sanosuke!”

 

 

“I'm just kidding, Jou-chan. You did a decent enough job.” He reached across her for one of the pieces she'd kept aside, and received a rap across his knuckles with knife handle for his trouble. He yelped in protest. “Hey!”

 

 

“Those are Kenshin's pieces,” Kaoru said primly.

 

 

“Kenshin's sleeping.”

 

 

“He'll wake up soon.” I hope. “He shouldn't miss out. Watermelon is a treat.”

 

 

“Watermelon isn't the first thing I'd feed a guy who hasn't eaten in days.”

 

 

“I'm making him rice and miso soup. He can have that first.”

 

 

“You trying to make him worse?”

 

 

“Sanosuke!”

 

 

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She slid open the shoji and paused in the doorway for a long moment, watching him sleep.

 

 

He hadn't made it very far past the walls of the estate. Supporting his weight across her shoulders, Kaoru had felt him grow heavy as he relied on her more, feet stumbling beneath him as adrenaline began to wear away. He almost dragged her with him when he fell. As she struggled to keep him upright, Sano merely reached out to catch hold of the rurouni and hoist him carefully up in his own arms, ignoring his faint protests as Kenshin tried to insist on walking.

 

 

He'd been dead to the world a moment later, curled against Sano's chest like a child for the rest of the journey back. It was an image Kaoru might have teased him about had she not been so worried about him.

 

 

Now, Kenshin slept peacefully. His shoulder had been carefully realigned and strapped in place by a doctor, and his left arm treated and swathed from elbow to wrist in clean bandaging. Bruises marked his jaw and the line of his cheek, made more distinctive now against the newly clean pallor of his face, fresh enough that Aoshi had surmised he'd received them during his last fight with Yamato. Kaoru wondered if that was supposed to make her feel better; to know it was an injury inflicted more in desperation than from deliberate malice.

 

 

She scowled, and finally pulled the shoji shut behind her to pad across the room, kneeling by the futon to place the tray she carried on the floor as quietly as she could. Maybe so. But what about the rest? Was there any reason to leave his collar bone untreated? And then there's what the doctor told us… She broke from that line of thought, hands curling into the folds of her kimono as she took a deep breath, focusing on the tray before her. She wasn't going to let her angry face be the first thing Kenshin saw when he finally surfaced from his long sleep.

 

 

She didn't realise he was already awake until a slender hand moved to rest lightly on her own, taking hold of clenched fingers to gently ease them straight. She turned, startled, to meet Kenshin's gaze. Still drowsy, his violet eyes were half-closed, staring up at her with a mixture of warmth and concern.

 

 

“Please don't, Kaoru-dono.” His voice was faint, but steady. “You'll ruin your kimono.”

 

 

Her fury died away, replaced by straight relief. “Kenshin! How do you feel?”

 

 

He gave her a tiny smile in response, and closed his eyes. For a moment, she thought he'd drifted off once more, and she stretched out a hand to smooth errant bangs away from his face and check his temperature. His skin was clammy, but carried none of the alarming heat of the previous days.

 

 

Kaoru sighed, dropping her hand back to her lap - and nearly jumped when he spoke again. Awake after all.

 

 

“How long have I been asleep?”

 

 

“Two days.” He hadn't responded to her question, which was an answer in itself. “We're at the Aoiya. We brought you here the night before last - your fever only broke this morning. It's late afternoon now.” She hesitated, and then added almost shyly, “I brought you some food. I - Omasu said I should wake you - I thought you might be hungry—”

 

 

He came to her rescue with a wan smile. “Hai, Kaoru-dono. I would like that very much.”

 

 

She smiled.

 

 

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His hair, they'd left down for comfort's sake; she'd washed the blood from it herself, smoothing out the worst of the tangles to leave it spread across the pillow while Kenshin slept. Now, it was a hindrance, sliding forward across his shoulders to do its best to land in the bowl of soup as he tried to eat. Kaoru bit back a small laugh at the look of chagrin on his face and made an offer which he accepted as graciously as he could, given the circumstances.

 

 

She gathered the crimson strands up with both hands and tied them loosely at the nape of his neck. Kenshin took a sharp breath despite her care; the wound behind the hairline was obviously still tender. With his hair back in a semblance of its usual ponytail, she felt an odd relief. It was almost as if the world had taken one more step back to being normal.

 

 

He ate the soup and some small portion of the rice without complaint, eating with fair grace despite the sling on his right arm. Kaoru kept her silence until he was done, then reached forward to gently tug the tray away from him and set it aside.

 

 

“Okina-san summoned a doctor for you,” she said. “The good news is that your collar bone should heal without any complications, provided you're careful. You'll need to keep it strapped in that sling for a good three weeks, at least.” She didn't mention what else the doctor had said on the subject - that with the amount of stress inflicted on the injury, Kenshin was extremely lucky that the damage hadn't been irreparable. It was information, she thought, that Kenshin did not need to know.

 

 

“Good news,” he echoed, and glanced at her shrewdly. “What else?”

 

 

Kaoru took a breath before she spoke again, determinedly casual. “He couldn't confirm how severe it was - he needs to speak with you about it - but the doctor believes you're suffering the after effects of a serious concussion. It's not terribly bad news, unless you count being forced to stay in bed a little longer.” He blinked at that; she smiled at him weakly. “You're not getting up. I won't let you. I know you're already suffering from dizziness … and you might find the light hurts your eyes a little. It's best to just rest for a while.”

 

 

He said nothing; merely watched her face with an odd look. She pressed on stubbornly, schooling her expression to blankness. There was still more she had to tell him. “And the police want to speak with you, once you're up to it. Apparently Okina-san sent them a message - they arrived at the estate shortly after we left. Bayushi has been arrested. They need to know what … what happened, while you were …”

 

 

What they did to you.

 

 

At the faltering sound of her own words, Kaoru stopped, swallowing as she fought to regain her casual tone. Baka! He probably feels bad enough without you making him feel guilty. She tried again. “They think that—“

 

 

“Kaoru-dono,” Kenshin said gently. She let the words die, glancing up to see his careful smile. “I will be all right. Nothing happened that I cannot recover from.”

 

 

“That's not the point!” she protested.

 

 

“I know.” His voice was soft. “But it does you no good to worry so much. Please. Let it go.”

 

 

Her anger flared. “Kenshin, they hurt you! It's not like it was with Shishio - that was a match you chose to go to, no matter how hard that decision was! At least you went to Mt Hiei on your own two feet! This … you didn't …” Kaoru fought back the sudden urge to cry. Neither of them would appreciate her tears. “There is no honour in what they did. That man - if he believed in it so much, why did he let them treat you that way?”

 

 

“Bayushi-san did nothing, Kaoru-dono. Nor did anyone else … at least, not in the way you're afraid of.” He was choosing his words with care, his face expressionless as he stared past her. “I was injured only because I was outmatched when I tried to fight back. I would expect that from any enemy, honourable or otherwise.”

 

 

But that's not entirely true, is it, Kenshin? Overlapped by the bandaging and hidden by the sleeve of the oversized yukata that he currently wore, the faded mark of cord on his free wrist - a sign that no matter how hard Kenshin tried to convince her otherwise, things hadn't been that simple. He would never say as much, and she knew it. Enough was enough.

 

 

“You're always trying to protect us, aren't you? Even now.” Hands clenching into fists, she glared at him in fury. “Kenshin no baka!”

 

 

His gaze snapped up to meet hers, startled. “Kaoru-dono—“

 

 

“I'm not fragile!” she cried. “I'd rather be angry on your behalf, instead of you leaving me wondering what's so bad that you think you have to keep it from me!”

 

 

“There's nothing to be angry about,” he replied evenly. “Bayushi-san's grudge was justified, and he treated me well enough, considering the circumstances.”

 

 

“Then why didn't he at least do something about your arm? And what about the people who worked for him?” She took hold of his wrist before he could react, holding it up between them, letting the yukata sleeve fall away. “Who did this to you? Yamato? Senzo? Maybe Yoshida Koujiro?” His eyes widened in surprise at Yoshida's name. She pressed on before he could interrupt, voice shaking slightly despite her best effort. “Your collar bone is broken, Kenshin. Don't tell me whoever tied your hands wasn't intending for you to be hurt by it!”

 

 

Kenshin stared at her in silence, violet eyes wide with shock as she stopped and tried to regain her self-control. She knew she was overreacting; so much time spent worrying over him that she couldn't quite help it now that he was safe, but he didn't deserve to wear the brunt of her temper. Kaoru bit her lip. She should apologise.

 

 

“Sumanai, Kaoru-dono.” The words, delivered in such a subdued tone, took her by surprise. Guiltily, she realised she was still gripping his wrist, and let her fingers drop away. “It wasn't my intent to slight you, or belittle your strength. I didn't wish to distress you, and instead I've made you angry.”

 

 

He was so earnest in his apology, eyes filled with so much worry at her reaction that she smiled. “Of course you have,” she retorted calmly. “But I was angry to begin with, you know. I promised myself I'd hit you when I got to Kyoto.”

 

 

He blinked. “Oro?”

 

 

The familiar word, long missed, left her with a tight feeling in her throat. She fought it down and fixed him with a mock glare. “Just what possessed you to sneak out of Tokyo in a storm and let some strange merchant drug you anyway?”

 

 

“It wasn't raining when I left.”

 

 

“Minor detail,” Kaoru said, giving him a faint smile. “You're in a lot of trouble. First, you were late back for dinner. You had the nerve to get taken on Tanabata night of all nights; you were stupid enough to leave with some stranger without telling anyone … you … you even lost your sword—”

 

 

She swallowed and ducked her gaze from his to stare down at her hands, once more twisting into the folds of her kimono, swimming out of focus as her vision blurred despite her best effort. She wouldn't cry. She refused to be so childish. Instead, she forced herself to laugh; a small, uneven sound that sounded unconvincing, even to her own ears. Across from her, Kenshin had gone utterly still. She pressed on. “—you made us travel halfway across Japan just so I could tell you what an idiot you are, and … and you got blood on my tofu bucket--”

 

 

And then she broke off as she was pulled gently into an awkward, one-armed embrace, his hand resting lightly on her hair. Her first tears soaked into the shoulder of his yukata.

He smelled of sweat and illness, but it hardly mattered.

 

 

She buried her face in the pale linen, and reached up with one fist to punch him weakly in the arm.

 

 

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“They're not doing anything they shouldn't be, are they?”

 

 

Yahiko sprang back from the door so fast that he almost tripped over his own feet. He wasn't sure which was worse - the fact that Sano had managed to sneak up on him, or the look of smug satisfaction on the former gangster's face as he leaned against the post of the engawa. He flushed. “Sanosuke! I told you to quit doing that!”

 

 

Sano grinned at him mockingly, hands in pockets. He jerked his chin toward the room, speaking in a low voice. ”He's awake, then?”

 

 

“Aa.”

 

 

“About time.” He gave a careless shrug. “Aoshi's back with news. Kenshin will want to hear it. Might cheer him up a bit.” He moved to open the door, and stopped, taken aback, as Yahiko caught the edge of his sleeve, looking up at him with uncharacteristic seriousness.

 

 

“Later, maybe.”

 

 

Sano stared at him levelly for a moment, and then shrugged again, a knowing smile on his face. And to Yahiko's great chagrin, stretched out a hand to ruffle his hair, ignoring his outraged look. “I'll take your word for it.”

 

 

Yahiko gave an uncomfortable shrug. The room behind him was silent now, but he had the distinct feeling that opening the door and interrupting the two people inside was not a wise thing to do, at best. Not when the last sound he'd heard had been the soft, muffled sob of his shihondai.

 

 

He turned on his heel and padded away, Sano sauntering alongside. It was the right thing to do, he decided. If Kaoru wanted to act like a … a girl and cry now that everything was okay, then he wasn't going to lurk outside Kenshin's door and intrude on that. Yahiko grinned as he reached the kitchen. It was just a shame that nobody would ever compliment him on how mature he was being about the whole thing…

 

 

“Oi, Yahiko.” Sano sounded amused. “You gonna stand there grinning like an idiot for long? You're blocking the doorway.”

 

 

Yahiko kicked him in the shins.

 

 

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In civilian clothes, casually walking down one of the more deserted streets of Kyoto, he attracted no attention; his uniform had been disposed of two nights ago when it was clear that - upon his departure from Bayushi's grounds - the police would shortly be searching for him in earnest. Now, he took a leaf from Senzo's book, dressed in the loose kimono of a merchant, heading for sanctuary in the less wealthy part of town.

 

 

Get up.

 

 

When the police raided the estate, they found Bayushi sitting outside the door of his home, staring at the edge of his sword with utter calm. It was thought at first that perhaps he was intending to resist arrest, or contemplating suicide.

 

 

Instead, Bayushi Mitsuharu merely stood, sheathed his sword, and glanced up at them blankly. He made no attempt to stop them from taking the weapon away and allowed them to escort him from his home without comment.

 

 

Our alliance is dissolved.

 

 

By the account of the one officer he'd managed to bribe for information, Bayushi had said nothing; at least, not until he'd arrived at the station, sat down and opened his foolish mouth. Then, of course, he'd damned them both.

 

 

On the other hand, Yamato reflected, things could have been far worse.

 

 

The police will be here soon, I've no doubt. It is in your own best interests to be far from here before they arrive.

 

 

Bayushi had sold him out; had apparently decided, at some point during his last altercation with Kenshin, to cut all ties with him. He supposed he should be grateful that the old man's odd sense of honour had given him plenty of warning to make his own escape before the police could arrive.

 

 

It was not the first setback Yamato's plans had suffered, but it was the most bitter. He knew that he would never be able to get close to Himura Kenshin again. The redhead was currently surrounded by the Oniwabanshu; even when he returned home, he would certainly be on his guard. The chances that he would be taken off guard again were extremely small.

 

 

Then again … with the majority of his men arrested, and the authorities made fully aware of his less than patriotic intentions, his need to remove Battousai from the playing board had been removed in any case, if not his desire.

 

 

He should have had the man shot in Osaka when he had the chance.

 

 

He turned off the street into a small alley, picking his way past discarded rubbish with a faint sneer of distaste to a door half hidden behind a jumble of boxes. A contemptuous place for him to run to, but with the amount of people who must be searching for him, it was the least likely place for them to look. Yamato was not a man without contingencies; he would stay here for a few more days; likely until Battousai left again for Tokyo. The search for him would likely begin to die after that, giving him the chance to leave town without discovery.

 

 

He could start again. It was not impossible.

 

 

He entered the darkness and closed the door behind him, placing his pack down on the small table. Food to last him for several days. A pistol to replace the one Kenshin had stolen. Paperwork … there were still stragglers from Shishio's army; men that he could recruit. He was not without options.

 

 

He was in the process of unpacking his meager collection of belongings when he heard the faint, jarring sound of a match being struck nearby. Yamato froze at the sound; saw the flare of light out of the corner of his eye.

 

 

A police officer, tall and thin and highly amused, eyes reflecting amber against the small flame of the match as he took the time to light his cigarette. Yamato's blood ran cold. He knew, full well, who was waiting for him here in the dark. His hand reached down, uselessly, for the gun.

 

 

Saitou Hajime smiled.

 

 

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“And Yamato was never seen again …”

 

 

Next chapter: we come full circle, to thosepresent at the time it all began. Also, what the hell happened to Yoshida? Final chapter of Tanabata Jasmine, upcoming. Hope you enjoy. ::runs off to cry nostalgically::

 

Misao: This totally bites! How come we didn't get any action time last chapter?

 

Aoshi: …

 

Misao: Yeah, what he said!

 

Aoshi: I think it's fairly conclusive what happens when ninja sneak up on a panicking rifleman.

 

Misao: But she could've put in a bit! I mean, we looked cool! There's you all deathly sneaky stealthy silent, and me jumping around like a genki lunatic to get his attention—

 

Aoshi: And here I distinctly remember telling you to stay put.

 

Misao: Uh …

 

Aoshi: You did hear me, didn't you?

 

Misao: Oh, look! I think I see the ghost of Hannya! ::runs away::

 

::ducks::

 

Thanks to Kalident for dropping a review, and to devildice708 and Sari-15for their complimentary and constructive FFARG reviews.

 

And of course, pocky. ^_^