Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
60: Diary
~*~
Sometimes Kaoru felt
frustrated by the missed opportunity to read Tomoe's diary, the missing link
between Kenshin's past and present. She felt guilty for thinking so - how many
times had she told him not to think so much of the past? - but the feeling
remained.
She wanted to know what he was like during his
assassin days, wanted to know truth from rumour, fact from fiction. She could
learn plenty of things about Hitokiri Battousai if she asked around, but it was
rare that anything was true. The only person who knew was the one she couldn't
ask - the one who wouldn't answer with anything more than a sad smile.
And it really wasn't fair to ask him, no matter
how curious she became. The question would only bring him further grief,
something she would never wish on anyone, least of all him. He had enough to
worry about, enough to think upon, even when she told him not to.
Or especially then.
Kaoru tried to keep a diary
once, writing down her own thoughts and feelings, but she had been unable to
consistently write in it, forgetting about its existence, or simply having
nothing to say.
A thought came to her after she learned of
Tomoe's diary, horrifying in its cruelty: she could not imagine what it would be
like to lose a loved one, only to discover - through an innocent flip of a page
- that they were plotting your destruction, had in fact died in the process. It
was a terrible thing to imagine.
Truthfully she was also afraid of the other
members of her family somehow sneaking it off to read it - perhaps not Kenshin,
who was too much of a gentleman and had already learned enough from diaries in
his lifetime - learning all her secret thoughts. It was for this reason that she
didn't record such things, but instead kept them in her heart, close and
remembered.
Some things she didn't have to write down to
remember.
Kenshin was cleaning the
storage building one day when he stumbled upon several old, untouched boxes that
had remained buried for who knows how long. He had been - politely -
kicked out of the house by a collection of half-crazed, squealing women,
celebrating the recent birth of his and Kaoru's firstborn son. A stampeding
group of baby-admiring, gift-bearing ladies were hardly good company for a man,
let alone one as antisocial as himself. The dusty shed called him even as he was
banished from the family home, and he was all too happy to oblige to its
uncleaned demands.
In the hidden boxes, he found several of the
elder Kamiya's possessions: a beautiful white hanten, slightly golden with age,
an old ink brush, fine-tipped but rough with use, a small, rusted knife. Things
which seemed to have no meaning, yet were unmistakably part of their history.
The most interesting among his finds was a
journal, its covers jagged and torn, but still in fair condition, all the pages
intact. At first he assumed it belonged to Kaoru's mother, but when he opened it
he discovered that the entries were, in fact, written by Kamiya Koshijirou
himself.
It surprised him, but it wasn't terribly
unusual for a man to keep track of certain occurrences of his home. Flipping
through, driven by the curiousity of what Kaoru's home life had been like,
Kenshin learned of the financial situation of the dojo during the war, the
development of the new government, the origins of the Kamiya home, and
Koshijirou's job within the growing metropolis of early Edo.
He learned, to his dismay, that Kaoru's parents
had nearly had a child before her, a baby that was lost at four months.
December 17, 1859
Kioku miscarried two weeks ago. It was a shock to both of us, and she is still
recovering, both physically and mentally. We have been trying for years to have
a child, and when she finally conceived, it seemed too good to be real. And now,
we see how true that was.
Every family seeks to have an heir, a son to
pass down the family name. I am beginning to wonder if we shall ever have one.
~ K.K.
Kenshin thought for a long time upon this new
found knowledge. He wondered if Kaoru knew, if the miscarried child had been the
son they were seeking. He continued reading, skimming through many unrelated
entries, hope and dread in his heart.
Finally, he found the date he sought.
June 5, 1862
I cannot believe it. Truly, it's a miracle. Kioku didn't lose the baby; she gave
birth several days ago, and Kamiya Kaoru was brought into the world by Doctor
Gensai's trusted hands. I was almost afraid to hold her: she was so small and
beautiful... how unbelievable her birth was for us. Kioku cried. Truthfully, I
myself might have cried.
There was no room for disappointment, after
all these years of waiting, praying for a son. Kaoru is a wonderful child, and
her grip is strong. I have high hopes for her. She will be a great woman, a true
lady. Kioku will raise her well.
Someday, we will have a son to inherit the
school's teachings. The gods have blessed us, and perhaps we will receive
another such gift. If, for some reason, we are unable to have another child,
then I'm certain that our daughter will by far prove her worth as an heir. She
is special, our Kaoru-chan.
~ K.K.
Kenshin closed the journal at that point, a
pleased smile on his face. Special... it could not have been said in a better
way.
' "Our Kaoru-chan" ?'
'You'll forgive me, Kamiya-san... if
I say...'
'My Kaoru-chan.'
He carefully placed the dusty old book back in
its box, sliding the wooden crate in a new position - at the back of the shed,
in front of the collection of used dojo uniforms. It was a treasure, hidden and
secret, and he vowed never to ruin it for her.
It would remain in the shed, awaiting her
discovery, were she ever to look for it. She would be surprised, and he loved it
when she wore that expression of pure delight on her face. Like a child, she
was.
'My Kaoru-chan.'
He glanced through the barred windows, and saw
that the sun was setting. Outside, he could hear the sounds of the departing
women, and he knew his brief exile was over.
Kaoru greeted him at the door of the house, a
quietly dozing Kenji in her arms. She smiled wearily at him, taking his hand and
squeezing gently.
"Find anything interesting?"
she teased, leaning her forehead against his neck.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders,
brushing a finger against the baby's cheek. Kenji stirred, eyes flickering for a
moment before growing still once again.
"No," he answered easily,
blowing her a soft kiss. "Not really."
~*~
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