Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
93: Nodoka
~*~
The dojo
was quiet.
Perfect.
Kaoru peered down at the clutter of papers before her, angry letters glaring
their unappreciated requirements back at her. It was that time of the month
again.
"Bills, bills, bills," she muttered to herself, resting her chin on her palm
in frustration. "Don't we ever get mail anymore?!"
Logically, she knew it was so. Just the other day she received a letter from
Misao. And before that, Tae sent a message on her brief vacation to Kyushu.
And before that...
But right now, it was bills.
Thankfully, Kenshin and Kenji were out exploring the streets of Tokyo for
groceries. Her husband had seen the look she wore early that morning and opted
for a day's outing, perhaps visiting the riverside afterwards and trying to
catch a few fish for dinner. Surely that would cheer her up.
Kaoru had mumbled something about making certain of it, and moved to a quieter
room to work.
So there she was, sitting among the scattered sheets of government policies
and tax letters, property values and income requests, meditating silently to
prepare herself for what was to come.
So quiet... so peaceful...
There was a sudden knock at the door.
"Um... Kaoru-dono? I just thought I'd let you know that Kenji and I had to
come back. It's raining, you see, and I didn't want the salt we bought to
spoil... but we'll try to be as quiet as we can, won't we?"
"Hai!" her son's voice piped up from behind the shoji.
"Fine," she responded, eyes still clenched shut. It wasn't so bad. Kenshin was
always fairly quiet, and if he could keep Kenji that way, it would be fine.
Quiet...
"Okaasan, have you seen the kitty? I can't find her anywhere. Is she with
you?"
Slowly, her eyes crept open. The cat stared at her from across the room, her
gaze challenging and pleading at the same time.
"No, Kenji," she lied gently, closing her eyes again. "Maybe she's wandering
again. Come back later."
She heard his footsteps as he returned to the kitchen to
receive Kenshin's soft
scolding.
Quiet...
Finally she felt ready. Looking down at the waiting paper on the small table
before her, she picked up the first - her least favourite, to get it done and
over with - and began to read.
"Kaoru? I hate to bother you but where did you put the soya sauce?"
"In the left-side cupboard," she mumbled absently, chewing on a fingernail.
Quiet, quiet, quiet...
"Kaasan, tousan wants to know if you want spiced rice for supper, or... um...
just salted."
"Salted," she replied in a tight voice. I want quiet.
Outside, the crickets began to chirp.
"Koishii, dinner's almost ready. Are you in the mood for tea, or-"
"Kenshin," she interrupted sharply, getting to her feet and storming over to
the shoji, sliding it open to meet his startled eyes, "You told me you'd be
quiet!"
She pushed the door shut before she could see the guilty look enter his gaze,
returning to her work with a soft huff. She picked up the ink brush once more,
tapping it against the table a few times to get her attention back to the pages
lying before her.
Quiet. Oh sweet, sweet quiet.
A soft rapping on the shoji echoed her
pen, and she rolled her eyes, teeth
clenched tightly. "Ken-"
"Okaasan," Kenji's voice broke through her anger, softer than a whisper,
"We'll be very, very quiet now and we won't bug you ever again. Okay?"
Ever again.
Ever.
"Oh, Kenji," Kaoru murmured, rising to her feet again. She knelt beside the
shoji and slid it open, meeting her small son's stricken gaze. "Kenji, kaasan
will never be bothered by you. Never. I promise."
"Really?"
She felt tears in her eyes, and she pulled him into a fierce embrace.
"Really..."
Her gaze lifted to meet Kenshin's face, as he waited in the doorway to the
dining area. He mouthed a silent, "I'm sorry", that same guilty expression he
always wore when something was his fault and yet it wasn't. She wanted to
laugh at him, if she wasn't busy crying.
"Come on now," she said instead, lifting Kenji into her arms and brushing away
her tears so he wouldn't question them, "Let's go have supper together."
"But..." he peered past her shoulder, worried. "You're working."
"I can do it later!" she insisted, a wide smile on her face. Slowly, he smiled
back, and she carried him into the dining room.
Later - much later, when Kenji was asleep, and Kenshin was mending their son's
gi quietly on the porch - she did finish her work. By lamplight, guided by the
symphony of the crickets and the gentle peace of the night, she completed
everything she intended to do without any interruptions or trouble.
And she smiled afterwards, something she had never done before with that
particularly distasteful job. Kenshin marveled at the strange effect a child
had on her temper, but he knew it was really his fault she had been angry, so
he wasn't about to comment on it.
Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.
~*~
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