Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

Perfection

by hana rui ::: 12.Aug.2004

"You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an
imperfect one perfectly."
--S. Keen

Nothing is perfect in this world. In the same manner as no one can ever be perfect either. Everything and everyone has got to have a fault somewhere, somehow.

Or so, that's how we have been made to believe by the common stereotypical preachings of the world.

A prerogative knowledge every humane instinct is bound to learn one way or another.

Then again, perhaps it had been inculcated in our minds by our ancestors long before we were even born. To later on be awakened by some unexpected transpirations challenging our constantly maturing human mind.

Given this drift, it has always made me wonder if it would make me any less of a human if I give in to the thought, this rather shamelessly adverse belief that you are... perfect.

I don't know, and don't go asking me why I think this way. I didn't even know I could be this, er, that I could actually think poetic thoughts prior to that day I got my first close look into your eyes and just had to sigh and mumble, "Kawaii..." "Oro?!"

"Eh, nothing." Fighting off a blush. "You look terrible, Kenshin!"

"I know." Huge sigh. "It's been a long day and my chores are but half-way done."

"Don't you think you're spoiling jo-chan a little too much?"

"No." Face softening into a look of contentment. "I like helping out. I owe it to Kaoru-dono for letting me stay here."

"But she really shouldn't be pushing you around this much. It's so... um... unbecoming of your... er... of you."

"What would you rather have me do then, Sano?"

"Take it easy with the chores! Be a man like me and have fun once in a while!"

Wide grin of satisfaction, almost juvenile. "Oh, I'm having fun."

"I can see you are." Rolling eyes.

"And this doesn't make me any less of a man."

"I can see it doesn't." Thinking of how you could efficiently kick bad- asses anywhere, anytime—then noticing you holding a humble pail in exchange for your lordly and spirited sakabatou. "You taking a bath?"

Nod. "Uh-huh."

"Here, let me help you with that."

"No thanks, Sano, I can—"

"Oh come on, Kenshin! Give me that!"

"No really, Sano, I appreciate your help but—"

SPLASH!

"Oh hell! I told you to give it to me!"

"Daijoubu." Grin of assurance. "I'll just get another pail."

"No, let me get it for you."

"Sano—"

"Wait here!"

The very embodiment of divine perfection, that's what you are. At least, that's how I see you. Everything about you. Your seeming inability to feel pure and unbridled anger toward anyone most of the time. Your ready willingness to take the blame that should never have been yours, but some pathetic assholes put upon your shoulders just the same for lack of a better fall guy.

Well, okay, so they may indeed be your fault—just partly so—but can they not see how much you have atoned and are still atoning for the carnages of the past?

I have forgiven you already, why can they not do the same?

"Well, that was fast. But I only need one."

"What does it matter?! I'll carry them for you!" Voice a little louder than usual.

"Er, thanks, Sano."

"No problem!"

"Are you feeling hot?" Anxious inquisition.

"Why do you ask?" Raw cluelessness.

"'Coz your face's turning red. Maybe you should take a bath with me. We've got two pails of water after all."

Your almost child-like innocence outside of the gory battlefield has never failed to make even a brutish man blush beyond recovery.

"Sano are you sick?"

"No."

"You're turning red all over. You sure you don't wanna take a dip?"

Nod.

"Well, are you gonna stay in and watch me at it?"

"Huh? Er, n-no! S-Sorry. Take your sweet time! I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Sano?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for your concern."

"No problem."

"But I'm just gonna be taking a bath. You don't really need to guard me." Was that a teasing smile on your lips?

"O-Okay." Face about to burst from too much feverish humiliation. "Later."

"You sure you don't wanna join me?"

Vocabulary pathetically deteriorated to the last uttered word. "Later."

Heaven knows how much I had wanted to join you then. After that rather innocuously wishful encounter—you being innocuous and me being the wishful part—it sure felt like all of hell had suddenly taken lodging in my nerves.

But I could not. And I would not. It's been taking much of my guts, and shall I add, slipping manliness to fight this feeling off my system. And you've never really been of any help, either.

If anything, your utter unawareness, your pure, innocent kindness, your unrivaled perfection, have all done nothing but make matters worse.

Make ME worse.

Was it my fault for sinking into such thoughts?

Or was it yours for being so goddamn... you? The perfectly adorable... you.

Every time I look at you, or is merely reminded by your existence, I just have to put all beliefs, all philosophies and human logic aside.

For in my eyes you are perfection personified...

"Sano, are you well?"

Nod. "Are you?"

"Not really."

"Huh?"

"I feel cold."

"Funny hearing that from you."

"I can't hear you laughing."

"Shut up, Kenshin! Close your eyes and take a rest."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid... I'm afraid if I close my eyes, I'll never be able to open them up again."

"Now that's freaky coming from you."

"Am I freaking you out?"

"Kenshin, goddammit! Just take a rest! And stop being funny, okay?!"

"I still can't hear you laughing, Sano."

Small smile, insipid. "Baka."

Strained laughter, hollow. "You're the funny one."

"Kenshin!"

Silence, long, calm and discomfiting. What you were thinking then, I never knew. I wish I did, though. But there was just no comprehending the depth and complexity of Hitokiri Battousai.

You were like a God whose thoughts may not directly be expressed and understood, but can latently be felt and... appreciated.

You were the most enigmatic, most mysterious person I have ever met. A curious foliage of opposing characters, the darkest past, the worst number of enemies seeking revenge...

Yet to me, you are the most impeccable proof that there can really be perfection on earth.

One that's seen by the impartial, unbiased eyes of the heart.

"Talk to me, Sano. Don't let me drift off."

"I'm holding on to you."

"It's not enough."

"What would you rather have me do then?"

"Just... talk."

"Kenshin—"

"I feel terrible."

"Hold on."

"I never wanted to kill all those people, y'know—"

"Yes, I know. Save your breath, Kenshin."

"But I had to. You see... I thought I was doing this nation a favor."

"Kenshin, please..."

Coughing, ragged and bloody. "Sano..."

Eyes blurring, glazed and teary. "No, Kenshin."

"It's cold."

Drawing you closer, holding you near. "Better?"

"Hai... Sano, you've always been here for me."

"I... owe you this much."

"For what?"

"Huh?"

"You owe me for what, Sano?" "For... For who I am right now."

"Really? So... who are you right now, Sanosuke Sagara?" Was that again a teasing smile on your face?

"Your... friend." ...and more...

"Wow. That means a lot coming from you." More coughs, more red stains on me.

"Well it should! So you better hold on in there, buddy, or I swear—!"

"Will you do me a favor, Sano?"

"Now don't cut me off when I'm talking to you!"

"You're shouting at me." Gentle reprimand.

One huge calming sigh. "I'm... sorry."

"So... will you, or will you not?"

"I..." ...do...? "...will... Anything, Kenshin."

"Will you finish all my chores for me? Kaoru-dono will be very, very upset."

"Now, that's enough! Don't talk as though you're gonna die, you big baby! You're not gonna die, Kenshin! I'm not letting you!"

"That's nice to hear..." Wide grin, resigned and unruffled. "But what can you do about it... baka?"

I never wanted to believe a word you were saying. Even as I watched your eyes begin to get dull, the light of life slowly flickering out from those perfect blue orbs.

Even as your breath hitched. Even as you were merely forcing your last words in a final whisper of sincere gratitude...

I never wanted to believe.

I never wanted to believe I was about to lose you.

That I have just lost you... for good. How can someone so perfect be wiped off the face of the earth just like that?

Then again, perhaps it was because you have become too perfect for the world that the great cosmos decided you didn't fit in anymore.

That you didn't deserve to be standing on such a filthy, infernal ground.

You're too ethereal. Too divine. Too... perfect.

I thought I was the only one who could think this way. Never have I expected the great higher-ups to share the thoughts of such a dumb, terribly flawed mortal like me.

It was not much of a surprise, either, that they didn't even think of me when they were considering your life on earth. How could they have overlooked my devotion? My determination to create at least one perfect place to suit the perfection that was you?

How...? ...Why?

Kenshin...

"Thanks for everything, Sano."

Tears wantonly, abundantly streaming now. "N-No problem."

With sobs racking up my throat, I held you tightly. Held you against me under the great, dark cosmos with its delusive bunch of flickering dust.

The moon is nowhere in sight tonight. Perhaps, it never did want to join in the sky's deception of mankind.

For the picturesque firmament is but an illusion. When it's not being its real, destructive self, it tries very hard to look perfectly calm... and innocent.

Perhaps it's taking after you.

But you are not an illusion.

I know that because I can touch you. Despite your sanctified perfection, you let me reach you.

Know enough of you to...

...Love you.

The sky is perfect, yes, yet unreachable—a delusion.

You are perfection on earth—an unsullied reality.

How can an illusion live on, gazing mockingly down at reality losing his breath?

How can it look so magnificent and august as one life is unjustly and disgracefully taken from under its wings?

What this fucking world is about and up to, I would never know.

Here I am, finally holding you close like how I've always wanted, and yet not feeling as blissful and happy, honored and content as I have always deemed I would.

For here you are, cuddled in my trembling arms, being soaked by my mourning tears, perfection personified... and dead.