Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

Observer

by Haku Baikou ::: 19.Sep.2003

He stood alone in a clearing in the woods, leaning on his sword, breathing heavily, shoulders slumped from fatigue. His long red hair was tied back in a loose tail at the nape of his neck, strands of it sticking to his bare back, his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat, obscuring most of his face. He wore his hakama only, having folded his magenta gi neatly and placed it carefully on some flat rocks nearby. He wiped his brow, clearing the hair from his eyes, and leaned back, face tilted upwards, as if drinking in the sunlight. Eyes still closed, he smiled despite his exhaustion.

He didn’t know it, but he was being watched.

She hid behind the trunk of a sapling at the edge of the clearing, observing him from behind the high underbrush. Her breath held unconsciously as she frowned briefly, as she always did, at seeing the scars marring his pale body. They’d faded now to a faint pink, but she remembered a time when those wounds were fresh, were angry red gashes across his back and chest. She remembered how the days in Kyoto had fused into one another, time losing meaning, as she’d worried for a hellish eternity while he’d struggled to stay alive.

But that was over a year ago. Now, he was fine. Now, he was flushed from his exertions, exhausted after a long practice session in which he’d driven himself to his limits. Now, he was at peace…if only for the moment.

She knew it wouldn’t last long, this calm state he achieved only after tiring himself out. She knew why he drove himself so relentlessly. Knew of the memories he strove to forget, succeeding only when his mind was blanked out after his arduous training sessions.

And though she hated to admit it, she knew, also, that he could never achieve such a relaxed state when she was around. That as much as he loved her, and as much as she tried to comfort him, she somehow still managed to cause him pain.

It was because he loved her that he was so often uneasy when she was near. She knew that. Because of his love for her, he couldn’t forget the past and couldn’t stop worrying about the future. Sins that were only in his mind, she had told him over and over again. But he couldn’t accept that. It was not in his caring nature. And since she loved him for what he was, she knew she couldn’t change him into anything different.

Because he was so often in pain, she, in turn, also suffered.

And so they tortured each other constantly even as they brought each other joy. Worried over each other even as they sought comfort and refuge in each other’s company. Felt pangs of guilt even as they reveled in their burgeoning love.

He worried incessantly about her. Felt he didn’t deserve her. And she fretted over him, irate that he should feel any self-imposed shame while at the same time feeling guilty that she’d brought about such feelings in him in the first place. It disturbed her. And he, of course picked up on her agitation, and worried all the more.

She sighed. It was all quite a complicated mess, she thought as she watched him silently. But then again, life with Kenshin was always anything but simple.

He was moving again, going through gentler, less strenuous exercises to cool down. These movements lacked the drive, the desperation of his earlier forms. These were more graceful. This was the favorite part of his practice sessions for her. She loved watching him when he was like this.

Alone. Unguarded. Unfettered. Expressions she’d never seen on his face before she’d started spying on him. She was intoxicated by the sight of him, his lithe body beautiful and strong as he went through the fluid motions of his kata. His hair brilliant and flowing in the sunlight. His eyes shining with concentration and a fierce satisfaction in doing what he loved: Swordplay, pure and raw. His blade singing as it danced in silvery arcs. Free of opponents. Untainted by casualties or guilt. The sakabattou an extension of himself, the forms and stances as natural to him as breathing. Sweeps of motion, efficient and precise. Leaves whirling and snapping gently in the breeze, resonating with his ki. Poetry of the human form if ever there was such a thing.

Kamiya Kaoru could watch forever, mesmerized by the sight of him.

His session was coming to an end. She backed away from the tree. She would leave slightly before him and hurry back to the dojo. He’d return. She’d act as if nothing had ever happened. That would be the routine. She’d been doing this for weeks now. She never dreamed today would be different.

A traitorous twig snapped beneath her foot. She stopped breathing and froze.

Kenshin reflexively whipped his sword up, his body crouched in a battle stance and the point of his weapon trained on her, before he even consciously registered that he’d heard something.

His violet eyes met her blue ones and widened suddenly in recognition.

“Kaoru?” he breathed barely audibly, shock evident in his voice as he hastily stepped back and lowered his sword. He flushed in embarrassment then, and stammered an apology for having pointed it at her. And then in an odd fit of bashful modesty he quickly grabbed his gi and put it on, avoiding eye contact as he straightened and tugged at his clothing.

As if she hadn’t seen far more than that when they and their friends had visited the hot springs over a year ago…. As if she hadn’t seen him uncovered and helpless when he’d nearly died…. She frowned at that train of thought and shook her head. She was cheerful by nature. Such dark thoughts unsettled her.

“Gomen, Kenshin,” she said guiltily, unable to think of anything else to add. How was she to explain herself in such a situation?

“Is everything all right?” he asked, frowning. “Is something wrong at the dojo?”

How typical, she thought. He worried about her first when most people would have been suspicious, would have asked her what in the world she was doing out here in the first place.

“Iya, Kenshin,” she said. “Yahiko’s teaching a class. Everything’s fine. I’m sorry to startle you. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Quite all right, Kaoru-dono,” Kenshin assured her. He wasn’t surprised that she had been able to sneak up on him when so few could. It was probably because they’d grown so close, her ki as comfortable and familiar a presence to him as his own. He often didn’t notice it, almost didn’t know where his own ki ended and hers began. And so it was completely possible for her to catch him unawares. He didn’t doubt that.

And surprisingly, he didn’t mind. There was a time when he would have been horrified by the thought of anyone being able to sneak up on him like she had, even if it were one he loved. But now, with Kaoru, he was surprised to find that he honestly didn’t care.

He did wonder, however, how she’d known where to find him in the first place. Had she followed him from the dojo? Or had she stumbled upon the site on her own? Had he been careless enough to leave a trail? That thought unnerved him a little, for if he’d left evidence of his passage for Kaoru to pick up on, there was nothing to stop others from finding him as well. And that was indeed disturbing.

“Ne, Kenshin,” she pouted. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Oro?” She'd been speaking? He blushed for the second time in a span of ten minutes.

She loved the way he blushed. It was an automatic, genuine response, one of the few that he’d never been able to control. It made her feel closer to him when his true reactions were revealed. It was his only sign of vulnerability, and it brought him down from the pedestal everyone placed him on and made him that much more human in her eyes.

But she couldn’t let him know that or he’d try even harder than he already did to conceal it. Dear Kenshin. So private and reserved. Anything that could be a sign of weakness, he had to hide. Not out of pride or conceit. But because he didn’t want his loved ones to worry.

She sighed. Silly, silly man.

Kaoru shook her head. “That’s what I thought.”

They headed back to the dojo then, walking in companionable silence.

“Kaoru-dono.”

“Yes, Kenshin?”

“How did you find the clearing?”

A hundred different plausible answers sped through her head.

“I followed you.”

He blinked. And a moment later: “Will you be there again tomorrow?”

It was not the response she’d expected. Her turn to blink.

"I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. Did he want her there? Didn’t he want her to stay away?

“Aah.” He said, after a slight hesitation. And then he took her hand in his own.

Was he granting her permission then? Kaoru surreptitiously glanced at him. He seemed to be enjoying their stroll in the fine weather. Nothing more. No indication whatsoever that he had just caught her peeping.

She smiled to herself then. He hadn’t pushed her away. She would be there tomorrow.

One barrier down, she thought in triumph. And she’d have the rest of their lives to take down the rest.

Owari.