Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
20: Washtub
~*~
While Kenshin was recovering from his battle with Enishi,
Kaoru, taking it upon herself to do his chores early in case he had some foolish
notion of helping, discovered that the washtub had a rather large leak. An
attempt to fix it would likely prove to be lengthy and not worth the effort, as
it had already been mended multiple times in the past, so she opted to buy a new
one. With Sanosuke in tow to carry it back for her - only mildly reluctant, he
chose her suggestion over watching Kenshin, a job they left with Yahiko - she
set out one afternoon to find a replacement.
She never would have imagined that the purchase of a washtub could be even
remotely related to her rurouni's life, but as she peered at the selection of
large wooden buckets, she found herself wondering what it was about laundry that
Kenshin found so appealing. Certainly, the idea of having a clean home - home
- was satisfying, at least, but for him to be so willing to do the job at every
opportunity was puzzling. It was such a lengthy task, all that cleaning...
... cleaning...
The new tub proved to be quite satisfactory, and, after he
had healed enough to satisfy Megumi's inspection, even Kenshin had to admit that
it was less troublesome than the leaky one. Kaoru fussed and grumbled about it,
demanding to know why he hadn't mentioned the leak beforehand. He had smiled
faintly, one hand behind his head, and answered quietly that the damage had
likely occurred during Enishi's first attack on the dojo, and afterwards, he had
been far too preoccupied to worry about the laundry.
An interesting choice of words, she remembered thinking, but had not voiced
her thoughts. Something in his eyes had asked her not to.
It had taken him a long time to work up enough courage to tell her exactly
what he had experienced during her absence, and his admittance of her apparent
death - and his aftermath - made her surprisingly angry at Enishi. Not since
Shishio's coup d'etat had she felt such a strong distaste for another man.
Kenshin's brother-in-law had been terrifyingly cruel in his so-called justice,
for a crime that was never truly intentional, a death that was a fault of no one
but whatever fates turned their backs on the young Bakumatsu couple. However
long it had taken Kenshin to reveal the truth to her, it took much longer for
her to forgive the savage, inhuman torment inflicted upon the heart and mind of
the man she loved. Eventually, she came to pity him, and the consumption by hate
his own mind had experienced since he had witnessed the death of his sister. It
was a wasted life, and she truly prayed that he would be able to find peace and
renewal in his understanding of what had occurred that day, through the words of
the one person he cared for.
Sometimes she wished with all her heart that she had been
able to read Tomoe's diary. It had remained in her hands for only a moment, and
she had been tempted - sorely and selfishly - to keep it to herself, rather than
hand it over to the man who had caused them all so much grief. But something in
her heart stirred as she looked at him, dejected and handcuffed, as if a voice
was urging her on. The book felt heavy in her arms, the faded, stained pages
fluttering limp in the wind. Tomoe's eyes seemed to watch her, judging her every
action, her every thought.
'It doesn't belong to me. And... I don't need to see what you saw
in him.'
'You knew the Kenshin of the past, Tomoe-san... but he has moved
on, and so I should as well.'
'You will always live on in his memory, and I will respect and
understand that as well as I can. But I refuse to let him dwell on things that
may or may not have been... especially when I... when he...'
'We need each other, now... more than ever...'
Kaoru, over time, began to learn how much she needed
Kenshin with her. Even after Megumi's departure for Aizu, Sanosuke's
disappearance for the wider world, and Yahiko's shift of lodging from the dojo
to Sano's old longhouse, Kenshin's presence in the dojo was a familiar comfort
that held back her unease at the sudden changes. She enjoyed waking up to the
smell of his cooking, exiting the dojo from her morning practice to find him
diligently sinking his hands into the water of the washtub, a broad smile on his
face, a welcome on his words, and love in his eyes.
And she suddenly realized, one morning that was no more special than any
other, that all the rest of the world could shift and vanish beneath her feet,
but if he was at her side, bound to her through the ties of that flickering
emotion she saw whenever he looked at her, she could go on, she could survive.
~*~
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