Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
24: Chills
~*~
Kenshin hated winter.
He hid it surprisingly well, and the pain he felt had been
dampened by their marriage, but Kaoru could see something flat
and emotionless in his eyes during the first snowfall. She
watched him as he walked through the snow, his sandals gently
crunching the pristine white beneath him, and saw how he focused
only on where he was going, and ignored - or did not see - the
fluttering, spiral descent of chilled rain.
But he smiled; he always smiled. She felt as if there was
nothing in the world that could make his smile disappear. Nothing.
In winter, she took great lengths to see that he was as
comfortable as she could make him, without his notice or
questioning. She had never truly liked the scent of white plums
before, as a perfume for herself, but after Kenshin's admittance
of his previous marriage, she avoided it like the plague. Every
night, if he had been particularly silent or thoughtful that day,
she held him close to her until they were both asleep, her hands
deep in his hair, knowing that it was a comfort, something
familiar.
"Tomoe used to do that."
'Would they ever have been in bed together, if she
did not love him?' she wondered, but was appalled by her
curiousity afterwards. She had no right to know, no reason to
hear the answer to that question, and plenty others.
She always noticed, however, that no matter how they had
fallen asleep together, he in her arms, or both of them apart,
every night during the coldest season of the year, she awoke with
his arms curved around her, his face in her hair, surrounded by
the faded scent of jasmine.
Kaoru loved winter; the way the snow fell
around her like glittering stars, white and cold on her skin. She
loved the way the tiny flecks of ice melted on her cheeks,
streaming down to her chin, soft as a butterfly's tickle or
Kenshin's touch. She loved the way her antics, childish as they
sometimes were, always managed to make him smile, despite the
memories, the pain, the visions of white plum and blood that must
have been dancing through his mind.
Most times, her smiles evolved into laughter, especially
during practice with Yahiko which usually changed to snowball
fights in mere moments, dragging Kenshin away from his chores to
join their fun if they could convince him. During those
afternoons of icy wetness and chilling enjoyment, his memories
and her fears dissolved in the distilled sunshine of glowing,
mischievous eyes. Afterwards, they found escape from the cold in
the kitchen, drinking tea while Kenshin sifted through her
mother's old recipes, hunting for a suitable treat to accent
their dinner. Later still, when Yahiko had gone home to Sano's
longhouse, tired but grinning, Kenshin lit a strong fire beneath
the bathhouse, and they sought comfort and solitude from the
frozen outdoors within the heated waters, together.
At night, when they were weary and warm, they retreated to a
readied futon, cuddling close, soft whispers echoing through the
dark room, and she would brush her hands through his hair as she
held him close, the close fragrance of water and soaps mingling
with their combined jasmine and ginger.
And in the morning, with rays of the winter sun as heralds for
their awakening, she opened her eyes to find herself in his arms
again, his nose in her hair, her cheek rested on the lithe,
scarred flesh of his chest, his scent lost in the midst of her
perfume.
~*~
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