Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ An Afternoon's Memory ❯ Overwakefulness ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Kenshin is not mine. But I wish he were. I'm just doing this to satisfy the needs of my thinking mind and my writing hands.

Chapter One: Overwakefulness

I try to hide

My vulnerable self

I search for cure

From being lost

In this white oblivion.

It was as scarlet as the afternoon sky.

She swallowed hardly, feeling another lump of unpredictable blood rising in her throat. Her face was hollow, her eyes dark from over wakefulness and her form, thin and frail from being badly sick for quite some time. She clutched the heavy drapes of her robe tightly and rubbed her bony arms.

Sure afternoons in that month are cold.

Her mind slowly drifted off, forming clouded images. She tried hard not to sleep, for she knew that sleep would only bring pain, and pain would bring death. She forced her expressionless eyes to open, and stared vacantly up at the amber zenith.

The darkening light was hurtful to her eyes at first, but soon enough she had been able to adjust and found the afternoon sky quite amusing, comprehensive at the most. A cold breeze suddenly swept through her, and made her shivering, shaking.

A lump formed itself in her sore throat, and once again she was engaged in deep coughing, deep infiltration of her heart and life. Her coughing deepened, and dark crimson liquid came pouring from her mouth. Her face even looked more lifeless than it had been, and her cold palm shook wildly as it held her blood.

Maybe the end is near.

I'm kind of tired really.

Sleeping is not what she meant; sleeping is something out of it. But sleeping is one way to get it.

Her thin form curled slightly around her velvet rocking chair, trying to keep itself away from the hurting cold and from the blinding crimson light of the afternoon sky. She turned her head and rested her cheek on a pillow and pulled her thighs to her heaving chest.

Sleep wants to claim her, but she doesn't want to claim sleep; it was death she wants to claim.

Today had been empty.

He had been looking around the dojo for her, but he just couldn't find her. He wanted to look after her, silently hoping that she would stop thinking how helpless she is now. He must see her right now, afraid that she might do something dumb to herself again.

It was then that she heard the horrible coughing.

He quickly traversed the long narrow hall and found her, curled into a tight ball, rocking slowly back and forth on the old chair beside the porch. He walked quietly towards her and run his fingers along the contours of her pale face.

It made her turn her head. A small smile curled up her lips as she got up to welcome him. "Good afternoon," she said in her weak, wobbly voice.

He silenced her by putting one finger on her parted lips, "sorry to bother you, didn't mean to."

"It's okay, where are they?"

"Megumi's."

She nodded, slowly realizing the fact that they had been doing so many sacrifices for her lately, she needs rest, and that they know. That's why they moved in to Megumi's.

"Come on," his voice was a little more than a whisper, and he wondered at how such a sound so soft could easily be heard.

"Where?"

"Rest."

"I don't want to."

"Come on," he insisted, sliding his arms around her back and thighs. He gently lifted her from the rocking chair, and carried her slowly to the bathroom.

Hot steam engulfed the cold breeze penetrating from outside.

"You may put me down here," she said, barely a whisper. "I thought you'd be giving me rest, but-" a kiss silenced her.

He slowly pulled back from having kissed her and playfully gazed at her stunned reaction. Sure she had been stunned, shocked at the most. "Sorry, just let me take care of you this moment."

She simply nodded in response; she had never been kissed, not even spoken to with so much affection before. It was just now. To be taken care of was something new to her, for bare sixteen years she had been mending her own wounds, preparing her own meals, heating her own water, living her own damn life. Now he asks her to leave herself to him; he would take care of her.

She watched dumbfounded as he slowly rewound her obi, taking quite a time. It was something not new to him, yet he found untying her obi much difficult than untying the others'. When he was finished, he turned his attention to his heavy, soft robe fairly loose and revealing her thin form.

"You don't have to." her small voice faltered. Her robe fell smoothly on the floor, leaving her as bare as when she was born.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he slid his arms around her again and carried her to the tub, and caringly laid her down on the warm water. "Let me soothe your tired soul now, let me take care of you."

The warm water was indeed soothing and she closed her eyes as she felt her hands gliding around her body, relaxing her aching muscles, cleaning her poor soul. "Thank you." her voice was a mere whisper, and she wondered if he ever heard her.

He smiled and slowly watched her drift off. He gazed at her serene face for some time and slowly his smile faded; a grim reaction took its toll.

She doesn't want to sleep, but this sleep is different, it's his sleep. There's no harm, I could sleep for a while, there would be no nightmares, and there would be no death. He's here, he would take care of me, and he would catch all my nightmares, all my pains, and all the blood.

Afternoons are long, slumbers are too, especially if they lead to death.

Her lids opened gently, and she blinked many times to adjust herself to the blinding light. She couldn't believe that even though she knew she had been asleep for quite a while it is still afternoon, the crimson sky is still present, still haunting yet amusing to her.

She suddenly felt a gentle hand stroking her raven hair; it was only then that she realized that she was now back to his room, lying on the same futon he was lying on.

"Sorry, have I disturbed you?" his voice was soft, gentle and pleasing to her ears.

She shook her head, turned to face him and stared at his glowing face and smiled.

He smiled back. "Kaoru, let me," he breathed in heavily, running a finger around her lips, "let me love you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, "you don't have to do this-to do this because you-because you pity me," her voice started to shake.

"I do not pity you, listen-"

"-But I know I'm not like-"

"-Listen, you don't have to be someone else for me to love you, all you have to do is to be you, yourself."

"But I'm dying."

"You are not going to die," he kissed her suddenly, crashing his lips to her mouth, pulling her close to him.

Her tears found their way out her eyes, and they fell like rain in the afternoon. She finally learned how to kiss back, finally having this chance; this moment she had been waiting for all her life.