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Standard Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of creator Nobohiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Shounen Jump, and Sony Entertainment.

Light of the Snow-Red Village
Part II - Light the Wick: The Early Years - Chapter 4

You are the strength that keeps me walking
You are the hope that keeps me trusting
You are the life to my soul
You are my purpose
You are everything
~*~

    "... sakura, sakura..."
    '... the snow...'
    "... sakura, sakura..."
    '... the snow... is calling me...'
    '... Tomoe...?'
    "... sakura, sakura..."

Kenshin's eyes opened, finding the conscious world not entirely what he expected. The room around him was simple and warm, with a small fire burning in the corner. He looked down and noticed that his wounds were cleansed and bandaged, and the pain wasn't unbearable.

Before he had a chance to throw back the covers and get to his feet, the shoji slid open and a woman entered,garbed in a long white robe. "Peace," she murmured gently, "There are others sleeping."

He watched her as she approached, a tray covered with medical supplies in her hands. "Who are you, and where is this place?" He was careful to restrain his voice, though it was very hard at that point. "Where is my daughter?"

"I am an apprentice of the high priests. My name is Koromo. You have managed to arrive at the Shinto shrine Mizuno-san invited you to see... though the roundabout way of coming here was quite dangerous for you." The woman knelt beside him, gesturing. "Sit up for a moment, please. It is time to change your bandages." Kenshin obeyed, teeth gritting in frustration, and she began to remove the upper section of his yukata.

"Your daughter is fine." after a moment, the woman obliged an explanation, "She is with one of my fellow apprentices, and she has been well-treated. We have not allowed her to see you, though."

Koromo was unruffled. "Do you realize, sir, that you have been unconscious for the last two days, and that when you were brought here you were covered with blood and followed by a hysterical child?"

"And did you know that when we first took her to see you she fell into the same unhappiness? There was little sense in hurting the child by showing her a father who was suffering. Instead we opted to keep her safe and unburdened by the worries of her father's condition. Which," she added, a small smile on her face, "Is growing much better, and will continue to do so if the father cooperates."

He nodded slowly, falling into silence as she took the bandages from his body. He glanced down at his wounds as each was unwrapped, and was pleased to see they had been well cared for, and would recover soon.

She nodded, her hands soft against his tender skin. "You really were lucky the farmers found you when they did, rather than after the thieves woke up and killed you." the apprentice's voice was gentle, almost teasing. Strange, how she could tease about such a thing. He supposed she must have seen such hardships often.

'Tomoe would have shaken her head,' he thought ruefully. "When can I see her?"

"After I have examined you, she will be brought here." she met his eyes, and he was surprised by the piercing sky-blue shade. "You will not be moving about for a while longer, so do not concern yourself with anything but recovering."

He smiled, paused to nod, and carefully dismissed everything she said. Taking another quick glance around, he saw no sign of the sakabatou. "Where is my sword?"

She looked away, to bring out the basin and wash the cuts with water. "This is the infirmary. Weapons are not permitted here. Your sword is safe."

The woman chuckled. "There seems to be only two things in your mind; the child, and your weapon. Is there any room for yourself, sir?"

'Two things... someone to protect, something to protect her with. That is all that matters.' "I'm afraid that's too much to ask for."

She studied him carefully, then shook her head. "So selfless. Perhaps I should assign some of my colleagues to look after you. They may learn something."

He watched her as she dried the wounds, then ran her fingers along his body to feel for further injuries. Her hands lingered on his lower chest, then she looked up at him, startled. "Sir... forgive me my bluntness, but there is not much to you."

"After I am finished, I will order food down. You and your child can eat together."

Moving up, she gently probed around the tanto wound, and he hissed, pain shooting down his arm. She frowned, eyes concentrated. "This one is deep... it has grated your collarbone. You're lucky the farmers had the sense to keep it there, rather than remove it, or it would have killed you."

Finally she finished her examination, and bandaged to wound until she was satisfied, then tied his arm into a sling to keep it set and immobile. She began cleaning up as he pulled the yukata back over his exposed skin, feeling the winter air despite the fire. He glanced at his hands, clean and pale.

"Ah... excuse me..." he hesitated, refusing to look at her. "Was there... did she... did she have blood on her?"

Koromo looked back at him, startled, then saw where his attention was held. "She did," she answered with almost painful honesty, "But she is clean now, and it does not seem to bother her. Her clothes have been cleaned, though I'm afraid her sandals didn't make it. Her ribbon as well, was going to be burned... but she was quite adament that it be left untouched. I didn't have the heart to say no."

"And it is fortunate that you didn't." Kenshin murmured. "That ribbon is very important to her."

"I'm finished here," she said abruptly, standing with the tray in her hands. "Wait a little longer, and your daughter will be brought down."

Turning suddenly, she stared him down, demanding. "You are not to use that left arm of yours, Himura-san."

Not long after, Kenshin heard footsteps heading towards his room. The door slid open, and a woman walked in, garbed much like Koromo had. This woman, however, was dark in appearance and in manner, shrouded in the movement of nobility and grace. Her eyes-

Suddenly his attention was turned away from her, as Hikari turned the corner and entered the room.

Safe, and in one piece - though her eyes were clouded in unhappiness. Before he had time to wonder about that, she noticed he was sitting up, awake, and they brightened.

"HOLD." a sharp, commanding voice caught her in mid-step, and Hikari halted, face crumbling. Kenshin himself was startled as the priestess moved forward, her eyes - her eyes - no more than shards of ice. "Hikari. What have you been taught?"

"Demo-" her brief, pleading wail was cut short by an abrupt gesture from the woman. The child's steps slowed, became more delicate and refined. She began to walk like a lady, albeit a bit unbalanced due to her age, head and eyes cast low. Kenshin shivered, sensing an image - a memory - of Tomoe in her; more than appearance.

"Hikari," he murmured, stretching out both his arms despite the pain, despite the glare from the woman which he ignored with entirely too much pleasure, "It's alright to run. Come here."

She hesitated, unsure, but as his smile reappeared she abandoned her mother's guise and ran to his arms like a child, tears and a joyful brightness in her eyes.

He brushed a hand through her hair, meeting the priestess's eyes - ice, and winter -

Footsteps. The first apprentice - 'The kind one, Koromo,' he thought briefly, 'The one with gentle hands and the eyes of a mother,' - and an older man he didn't recognize stepped inside.

Koromo looked at him, the young girl in his arms, and lastly her fellow priestess, and something in her eyes flickered. Finally, she said simply, "Himura-san, I requested that you not use your left arm."

"Good morning, Himura-san." the man bowed, eyes kind and peaceful, despite the ice still in the room. Ice eyes, Kenshin remembered.

"My name is Taki, and I am the caretaker of this infirmary." the man continued, oblivious to his thoughts. "I wish to speak with you for a moment, alone." he nodded slightly to the other apprentice.

Kenshin felt her hands tighten on his clothes, even as his arms tensed. He stroked her back soothingly. "I would like her with me, actually."

So careful, he had to be. He was a guest, by kindness and duty to a god, and nothing else. Diplomacy mattered, sometimes.

And sometimes he was grateful for Kyoto, for the lessons he learned by watching - listening - to the secret meetings he guarded from the enemy.

The older priest must have seen something in his eyes, for he motioned for Koromo to come forward.

"It's all right," she said soothingly, to father and daughter, both, "I'll take good care of her. We can bring up your breakfast."

Pausing for a moment only, Kenshin nodded. 'The kind one.' "Aa, Hikari, aren't you hungry?"

"Noooo..." she wailed, burying her face in his chest. Her stomach rumbled in disagreement.

He smiled, for her sake alone. "It seems like someone doesn't like that idea and is trying to tell you something. And I know I'm hungry. Do you think you can help Koromo-dono make something?"

He nodded sincerely. He was, actually. He hadn't eaten since their departure from the Mizuno residence. "Aa. Aren't you?" he tried again.

She pursed her lips, unhappy at the thought of leaving him again, then finally bobbed her head. "Okay. If you're hungry than you have to eat, ne?"

Kenshin chuckled. "And there's nothing I'd like more than your cooking. Go on; I'll be waiting here."

Taking Koromo's hand, Hikari allowed herself to be led away, glancing back only once. Kenshin was grateful for that.

The moment they had disappeared beyond the doorway, the other priestess whirled around, fire mingling with the ice now. "She has no experience on how to treat that child," she hissed.

Her eyes blazed. She gazed at him, two seperate fires meeting, until she turned, stalking out of the room.

Kenshin relaxed only slightly, closing his eyes. He felt tired, suddenly. There was a long silence forboding the room.

"You must be sore." when he spoke, the old man's voice was quiet, gentle. "Will you lie down, and listen to my words before you judge?"

The rurouni obliged to the second, opening his eyes and remaining in place. The pain was nothing compared to the ache in his heart.

Kenshin couldn't bite back a retort; didn't even try. "I know fear, in her more than any other, even myself. I know when she does not want something." 'When she dreads leaving my side...'

The fire of anger died, dissipated in the snow. It may have been snowing outside.

Snow, snow and blood and tears and - "Enough," he answered quietly, "I know enough."

The man nodded. "We all do. Sao... she carries a great deal of bitterness with her, that has been unable to settle in her years with us. Her husband was killed, needlessly, in Kyoto... do you see?"

"My fiancé was the second son of a similar family, a childhood friend. He died, in a far-off place I didn't know."

"They never had children. She grieves that more than anything." Taki spoke tenderly, as if to a frightened child.

'I am that, to him,' Kenshin realized. 'Frightened that a bitter, grieving woman had hurt my child, my light.'

"She despises all swordsmen, something that also has not been soothed by time. A swordsman, blessed with a child that she does not have, is something she cannot bear."

"No." the priest held up a hand. "I asked that you not judge. She is not cruel, but merely intent on preparing her for the grievances life will eventually offer. She is teaching what lessons a young lady should learn in her life in order to be successful and raise a family. There are many things that you cannot teach her."

"She is three years old," Kenshin muttered tersely. "What wordly grievances must she know?"

He was younger, a part of him spoke in reminder, when the plague ravaged his hometown and stole so many lives.

Taki smiled sadly. "Children grow old too young in these days, it seems. Sao knows this well, and she only wishes that the child would have the needed skills when the time arrives."

"That I can agree on." the swordsman nodded slightly. "But the manner in which they are being taught... I can't say I approve of."

"I understand your concern," Taki shook his head, "But Sao would never hurt her."

His eyes were dark, Taki noticed. Dark, and jaded. Many changes in the mood, recently. "This will help her to grow."

"Grow into what? A child with the soul of a purebred lady and nothing else, her joyfulness stripped bare because of someone who feels such bitter hatred for the father?"

So much bitterness that he could agree on, even sympathize with. The loss of one so loved was a deep, long enduring wound, with a healing so agonizingly slow it seemed almost nonexistent. However, bitterness was only a shard of the emotions held within the storm. Grief, anger, accusation, hate, love...

There was a balance, careful and protected, to prevent one from overtaking them all and becoming something he could not bear to see raise his child. The balance was part of his atonement, requiring careful control and watchfulness such as a father learns in time. There was more, so much more... but one could only control so much before it broke.

He saw that for this woman, consumed by the unprotected bitterness, the control had broken free long ago.

Taki closed his eyes, much like Kenshin had done when Sao had departed. "I will speak to Sao of this. She... will not be happy."

"Pardon my bluntness, but that is not my concern. The happiness of my daughter comes before that of others." He was, in fact, quite blunt at times. "I trust you're willing to follow my wishes?"

There was an underlying implication in the rurouni's words; Follow them, or I will take my belongings - and my child - away from this place, whether you like it or not.

Taki seemed to understand, and was not pleased by the conveyed message. Kenshin didn't blame him, nor did he care much. "I will, on one condition. Keep your movements to a minimum; I do not want your wounds to tear again, and the death that would likely result would be a stain on our pride and our devotion to this craft. For the sake of yourself and Hikari-chan, stay here unless your are told otherwise."

Kenshin eyes him for a moment, then grudgingly agreed. As much as he hated to admit it, in his condition, he was at the mercy of those in the healing temple. He wasn't sure if his body would hold his weight if he tried to stand.

"Good," Taki smiled with genuine pleasure, standing up. "Then I will leave you to eat with your daughter. Good day to you, Himura-san."

Kenshin opened his mouth to reply, but Hikari and Koromo rounded the corner with trays of food in their hands - Hikari balancing a careful display of small onigiri, making him smile at her antics - and whatever he may have said was completely forgotten. As the trio ate, joining in cheerful conversation, the older man watched for a moment, his smile turning wistful, and left the room.