Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
58: Hikari
~*~
"Beautiful. He's beautiful..."
Kenshin was an immediate
admirer of Kenji after his birth, reveling in all the baby did. Kaoru herself
couldn't help but feel proud of their accomplishment. A new life, a new joy, a
family, they had created together.
Beautiful.
He was, she knew, a beautiful
child. With bright eyes, deeper than the night sky - a colour which truly grew
on her over time - and hair the shade of embers and rust, he was the
admiration of the town. A strange child, certainly, but a popular newcomer to
the city of Tokyo. Kaoru found it amusing how such a lesser known dojo - once
made famous by the rumours of an assassin abiding there - could be the talk of
the neighbourhood by a simple birth. She was only unhappy that it didn't bring
her students.
Not that she was in any
condition to teach, anyway, but that wasn't the point.
She loved to watch them
together, Kenshin and her son, whatever they did. She smiled as Kenshin did
the laundry, one eye on the tiny body toddling around at his feet, calling his
"to-to" and constantly requesting attention. She laughed as they worked in the
garden, Kenji stumbling over roots and wailing over a scratch, Kenshin hugging
him and admiring the impressive "battle scar", even as scars that could have
taken his life hid innocently beneath his tunic, away from the child's gaze.
She watched them, not knowing
that he watched her, not knowing that he loved to watch her with Kenji just as
much.
The child
brought a light to their world that Kaoru had never known, a love that was
deeper and more fierce than anything they had felt before. It fascinated her,
how much she knew she was willing to do for this tiny bundle she had brought
into the world.
She knew that if anything
were to happen to him, if she were to lose him, she would die, just die.
And Kenshin? Only the kami
knew what he would do, and she couldn't bear to guess. Her own supposed death
had wounded him enough. Any harm to Kenji -
She couldn't bear it.
He was their light, their
gift from... it must have been the gods, really, they were so blessed.
"I won't
let any of my shadows touch him," Kenshin told her, his voice gentle and
intense, fearful and undaunted at the same time.
She wondered what shadows he
referred to; those who sought him, or darkness of his own making.
"There are
two conditions most favourable to a manslayer. One was to be among the shadows
of night, and the other was to be among the crowds of people."
Those words often echoed in
Kaoru's heart. Spoken first by Kenshin, and reflected upon by Sanosuke, after
the battles of Kyoto were over and everyone was on the road to recovery -
Kenshin especially, who had worried them all the most - they seemed to mimic
and answer her curiousity of what the Bakumatsu was like. Shadows, Kenshin had
said. Shadows of war, shadows of the demons of mankind, shadows of past lives
and future expectations.
Shadows of the ghosts which
haunted every step of one's wish for happiness.
But shadows could not exist
without light, she remembered, taking hope in the thought, just as light can
chase the shadows to the far-reaching corners of existence.
Like a candle: strong, even
as it flickered in the wind.
~*~
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