Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
33: Ashi
~*~
Not long after Kenji's birth, once her fascination
of his perfect hands had faded to a lesser degree, Kaoru realized that his baby
smoothness was certainly not limited to just that. She learned that his feet
were just as soft, just as delicate, each intricate toe accented by a tiny nail,
the colour of a pale seashell on the beach. As she drew her hands along each
bump and curve on the feet of her dozing baby, she also discovered that he was,
in fact, rather ticklish. Her own nails soon found a new hobby and amusement,
and as he grew older, she was rewarded with the treasured sound of his laughter.
She noticed, though, that as the weeks, months, and eventually years passed,
the softness transformed into the rough, callused skin of a boy who moved
constantly, exploring the outside world with the enchanted curiousity only a
child could possess, stomping through mud, grass, and rocks, scraping and
crawling, marring his beautiful, perfect feet with bruises and cuts. A part of
her cried out in outrage at the world for that one, seemingly insignificant
loss, even as her pride soared at the determination of her son, brushing aside
pain and scars with the casual mindset she had often seen in her husband. He
was, in truth, beneath his temper and his young, brash ambition, a great deal
like his father.
She found a scar on Kenshin's foot one day, when he
returned from a particularly tiring mission for the police chief and immediately
fell down on their futon to rest, he told her, only for a few hours before
starting his chores. She originally intended to let him sleep the day away, if
it were possible, but Kenji's absence - he had also gone down for his daily nap
- and her impish motivation prodded her to determine whether or not his feet
were as ticklish as their son. She caught him smiling as she carefully tugged
his tabi away, and her silent question was answered without effort. He didn't
move, though, and she knew he would allow her to have her fun - for a moment, at
least.
As her hand drew near his bare foot, she noticed a long, thin line of a scar
trailing from the center of his foot to the heel, jagged and uneven. She traced
the length with her nail, questioning, and earned a chuckle from him before he
shifted away. He sat up, a broad smile on his face, but the laughter died in his
throat as he caught sight of her thoughtful expression.
"Kaoru?" he asked after a moment, cautious.
She was suddenly annoyed that she allowed her inquisitiveness to make him
anxious, but knew there was no point in eluding him now. "Ah, gomen... I just
noticed it, that's all. I was curious..."
His smile returned, small and wistful. "It's all right. That was a mistake on
my part, really... from the war, a long time ago."
Kaoru shifted closer to him, drawing his hand into her own. "Will you tell
me?"
"Aa." He didn't hesitate, and she felt more comfortable
with the story when she knew that he was. "I was returning from a mission-" She
wasn't about to explore what the mission was, and from his tone of voice,
neither was he, "And I wasn't really concentrating on what was below me so much
as behind. The Shinsengumi were getting rather good at tailing me, and it didn't
help that I was already wounded."
"Badly?" she interrupted quietly, her voice concerned.
He merely smiled again, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "No, not badly.
But enough to slow me down. I had lost one of my sandals in an earlier scuffle,
and it had rained that evening... in other words, the perfect combination of bad
circumstances to make a tired hitokiri step on a broken sake jar and fall flat
on his face."
It was such a ridiculous idea, really, that Kaoru couldn't withhold a small
giggle. She ruffled his hair, smiling in sympathy, even as she murmured in his
ear, "Baka."
"Aa," he said again, kissing her cheek, "Going back home
is always an adventure, isn't it?"
"Home?" she echoed, her smile playful.
"Well, perhaps not home then," he corrected,
musing. "But certainly it is now."
She snuggled closer to him, the words still dancing across her tongue.
'Home...'
Kenshin's scars were always a target for her own curousity,
even in the first days of their relationship. Hitokiri Battousai was known only
for the scars he received from the men he had killed - but Himura Kenshin was
acknowledged because of the wounds he took while protecting those in need. She
took great pride in that recognition, even if Kenshin himself could not. He saw
his scars as past failures, injuries incurred when he was not strong enough to
prevent them. Everything he did was torn apart and criticized, broken down with
the narrow-eyed appraisal of a self-recriminatory pessimist. Nothing he did was
good enough; not for him.
Kaoru often wished she could tear down his walls of self-hate and guilt, pull
him back up and make him understand the good he had done for the world, for
her, for their son. He had taken a lonely girl, a walking target for the
edge of a murderer's katana, and made a family, a real home. He had taught her
what forgiveness, joy, and, yes, what love was, by merely existing. She wanted
to do the same for him; make him look with his eyes open for once and see that
the world did not have their backs turned to him, just because of who he was or
had been. There was so much she wanted to do for him, to show that she
appreciated everything he had done for her. But there was always smile,
and his hands, gently seizing whatever burdens she might have and taking them
upon himself. His heart was too giving to allow anything to slow it down.
'Though maybe... maybe sometimes, I can slow him down.'
'I can do more... and I'll get him to rest once in a while. He
works so hard...'
'We all do, don't we? To support each other...'
'... like a real family...'
'Maybe that's why...'
The thought made her smile, even as Kenshin worked, and Kenji played in the
dirt... but mostly when the two were together, splashing in the water of the
laundry bucket, Kenji nestled in the crook of Kenshin's arm, their hands wet,
wrinkled, and just as identical as their hearts.
~*~
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