Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Those Left Behind ❯ Fireflies ( Chapter 2 )

Fireflies

She watched as though from a distance, feeling like a hollow shell. Something that Yahiko had once said to her in his naïve youth came to mind, as she watched the young man hug Kaoru. “What good are doctors if you can't fix everything?” He'd said it when Yutaro had lost the use of his sword arm, but it seemed appropriate now. What use indeed?

Kenshin's body was laid out inside the dojo. No one seemed to notice when Megumi got up, slipped inside and knelt beside him. There was peace on his face. She knew that. She could see it. He had died at peace with himself. And that was a gift. She was sure he'd never dreamt it possible. She could make that call. In some ways the hitokiri and the opium maker were very similar. As were the rurouni and the doctor. That was probably why he'd needed Kaoru to love more than her. She could accept that.

She brushed a bit of the shaggy red hair out of his face, a thread or two of silver glinting as light from the setting sun passed over it, out of place on a face that still looked too young.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, letting the tears fall. He had saved her. More than once, he had saved her life and her soul. And there had been nothing she could do for him in the end.

She was different than the others. They had all loved Kenshin. They'd loved him for his kindness, his strength, his abilities. But the others had seen him as a hero as well. He could be beaten within an inch of his life. He could be shot, stabbed, blinded. It didn't matter. Nothing kept him down. Nothing could kill him.

And that was the difference. That was what had set Kenshin and herself apart from the others. They shared a secret. It wasn't his abilities that kept him alive, or his godlike speed, or anything else that the battousai had possessed. His strength was something that there weren't words for. His body could fail. His mind could fail. But he'd still be Kenshin, because of something inside of him that made up his very being. He wasn't immortal. Both of them knew it. And he had never been in denial about it, as she had once suspected. After he'd nearly died in Kyoto, she had confronted him.

He'd let her talk, and when she was done, he'd sat there quietly, looking out the window. Watching the fireflies blink in the night.

Finally, he'd spoken. “Do you see the fireflies? They're beautiful tonight.”

Even in her irritation, she'd had to agree with him.

He'd smiled at her. “Fireflies are strange things, that they are.” His eyes closed, and he tilted his head back. “I can't remember how many times I spilled blood under their glow. They were comforting. Even as I felt myself changing, they stayed the same, always there. But they aren't immortal. They're just small creatures with short lives. We never really see them. We only remember them by where we last see their light.” His lavender eyes opened and his expression softened. “I am a firefly, I think. That I am.”

Megumi slipped back into the present, opening her eyes and watching over him as the shadows spread. This wasn't the man who spoke of fireflies. This body wasn't Kenshin. Not anymore. It was only the shell that once had held him. He was gone. And again, he hadn't even said goodbye.

She hugged herself close, it was dark, now. She would have to go soon. The others would only leave her alone out of respect for so long. After a long moment, she finally stood. Kenshin was completely hidden in darkness now, but she looked anyway.

Her eyes widened. A small green light by his face flickered, and blinked out.

The second time it flickered, was the moment it landed on her hand. One firefly.

It was there. Its light was out, but she felt it there.

“Even as I felt myself changing, they stayed the same, always there.”

It couldn't be...

“I am a firefly, I think. That I am.”

It blinked once more, and finally flew off.

She watched it until she couldn't see it any longer.

“I am a firefly...

Always there...”