[KFFDisc] That Which Lingers - Part 10 (revised)

This is the revised draft of Part 10 my new story.  Ha!  Many thanks
for the comments.  I KNEW something wasn't quite working with
Saitoh....  How about this version?

** CONTINUITY WARNING!!! **
    This story does NOT follow the current prologue for my other story
"Romancing the Wolf".  I had to change a few things around to suit the
current plot line a little better.  I'm definitely going to write
about Saitoh's and Tokio's courtship, but I haven't decided to make it
an independent story or to make it conform to "That Which Lingers".
I'll just have to wait and see.  ^_^

This story is set in my own ALTERNATE REALITY universe which I've
called "The Nightwitch Tales" -- think of it as Rurouni Kenshin mixed
with various supernatural and paranormal elements.  Other stories in
this alternate reality are: "Night Visitor"; "All in the Family"; and
"Romancing the Wolf".
 
It takes place after the end of the Kyoto story arc.  After that, all
bets are off.  Elements of the Revenge story arc may show up in the
story.
 
WARNING:  This story is "semi-dark" -- it has dark elements
(violence, profanity, etc.) but it's not a darkfic!  Actually, there's

quite a bit of romance in it....     ^_-

As always, C&C is greatly appreciated!   ^_^

======================================================================
    THAT WHICH LINGERS:  A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic by MadamHydra
======================================================================
        Part 10:  CONSOLATION
======================================================================

---------------
Disclaimer
    All rights and privileges to Rurouni Kenshin belong to Nobuhiro
Watsuki, Shuiesha, Sony Music Entertainment, and associated parties.
The characters of these series are used WITHOUT permission for the
purpose of entertainment only.  This work of fiction is not meant for
sale or profit.  Original portion of the fiction included here is
considered to be the sole property and copyrighted to the author.

---------------
Text Conventions
    (  ) are character thoughts
    / / and // // represent various sorts of mental dialogue
    * ----- * ----- *  marks the start/end of dreams or flashbacks
    [ ] denote visual or time notes

**********************************************************************

[the present, 11th year of the Meiji period, late summer]

-----------------------------------

    Tokio's eyes went wide with astonishment, but she managed to
answer with an unbelievable amount of composure, given the
circumstances.

    "Hajime... it's been nearly 15 years since we first met in
Kyoto... and we've been married for over EIGHT of them...."

    Saitoh froze, then turned very slowly to look at his wife.

    Sano frantically thought, (Oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!!!  Not only
does Kenshin look like he's totally out of it, but Saitoh... SAITOH,
of all people... is losing it, too!)

    At that moment, Sano almost wished he WAS a chickenhead, like
Saitoh kept calling him.  That would give him a perfectly good excuse
to run around in circles screaming in mindless panic.  He had hoped
and prayed for the day that he would see Saitoh Hajime REALLY shaken
up.  He got his wish... sort of.

    For a brief instant, Saitoh gave Tokio a blank, disbelieving
stare, then he winced slightly and rubbed his forehead with his hand,
as if trying to massage away a mild headache.

    It didn't look like much of a reaction, but to Sano and the
others, those little gestures of discomfort were the equivalent of an
ordinary person going into hysterics.

    (I think that's probably about as close as the cold-blooded
bastard's ever going get to expressing REAL panic,) thought Sano.

    Saitoh suddenly shook his head sharply, dropped his hand to his
side, and gazed steadily at Tokio with an expression that was a fairly
close approximation to his usual cynical and faintly malicious
demeanor.

    Misao's head kept swivelling back and forth between a nearly
catatonic Kenshin sitting outside and Saitoh, who continued to stare
at his wife with a faint frown on his face.  As for Tokio, she seemed
unruffled by her husband's narrow-eyed scrutiny.

    "Wha... wha... WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON!?!?" Misao flung up her
hand and wailed.
 
    Even the usually inscrutable Aoshi looked dumbfounded.
 
-----------------------------------

    Tokio discretely guided her husband to a stool in the neighboring
room, then stood in front of him, shielding Saitoh from view.  While
he had managed to regain most of his usual composure, Tokio knew
better than anyone else just how unnerved he was by the whole
incident.

    "Hajime?" she murmured, lightly resting a hand on his shoulder.

    He didn't answer immediately, then finally said, "Tokio."

    "Yes, I'm here."

    "What happened?"

    "I think you had an abrupt memory lapse."
 
    "How so?"
 
    With a rueful little smile, Tokio murmured, "You asked me why a
respectable young lady like myself was calling you by your first name
after only a few day's acquaintance."

    "I WHAT?"  He blinked, then started to swear furiously under his
breath.

    With her body blocking the view of casual observers, she gently
caressed his face with her fingers.  Saitoh reached up and touched her
hand, his fingers lingering on hers for a brief instant.

    Gazing into his amber eyes and noting the faintly appalled
expression in them, she said, "Are you all right now?"
 
    "I think so.  Damn."

    Saitoh Hajime did not consider himself a fanciful person, but
somehow he knew that there was no way he could possibly forget
Tokio... his awareness of her seemed indelibly imprinted, not in the
mind, but in some other, much more profound part of him.  That part
would always remember her....

    No, he hadn't forgotten Tokio herself... but for an instant, he
HAD forgotten so many details about his wife.

    (How could I have suddenly forgotten almost everything that's
happened between us?)

    Saitoh muttered, "And I called you a 'respectable young lady'?"

    (That's going a LONG way back in the past....)

    When he had first met her, Saitoh HAD thought of Tokio as a
typical, modest daughter of a wealthy, highly respected samurai
family... but that was a decade and a half ago.

    He would never forget the day he first saw her, standing in the
garden of her senile old uncle's home.  Saitoh had only been 20 years
old, but already a leader of the Shinsengumi... she was a 15 year old
girl, charming but rather innocent and sheltered... or so it seemed at
the time.  He had learned better soon enough....
 
    If the times had been different, he probably would have started
courting her on the spot.  But the country was at war and he was
Shinsengumi... he had no time or energy to spare for anything except
his duty.  He saw her again on several occasions over the next year or
so.  And then there was that night 13 years ago when she had saved his
life for the first time....

    He uttered a sharp bark of laughter.  "A young lady you might have
been, but 'respectable'?  Not nearly."

    With a faint gleam of amusement in her eyes, Tokio murmured, "My
family is perfectly respectable.  You said so yourself."
 
    "Until I found out what your grandmother and that pack of old
crones...."

    "If you're referring to my esteemed, elderly female relatives...,"
she corrected mildly.
 
    "....pack of old crones were teaching you and your younger
cousins."  Saitoh snorted.  What a shock THAT had been....

    Tokio said primly, "It's only proper that a young lady be able to
defend herself and the honor of her husband and family."

    "Defend herself, yes.  But your family's standards of what
constitutes 'self-defense' are extreme, to say the least."

    His wife placidly shrugged.

    Saitoh scowled.  These things and so many others... where had
nearly 15 years of his memories gone... if only for a brief instant?

 
-----------------------------------

    Misao stared out the door at the setting sun.  "Aoshi-sama....  It
was barely noon when this... vision... started...."

    "Yes."
 
    "And now the sun's almost completely set...."
 
    "I know," he replied quietly.
 
    "But... what we saw... it couldn't have taken Himura more than a
few minutes to kill those men!"  She stared anxiously at him.

    "Time's a highly subjective thing, Misao.  You should know that by
now."

    She eyed the partially unwrapped black sword with loathing.  (We
can't just leave it like that....)  She took few steps toward the
table.  As she reached out, Aoshi grabbed her shoulder with the speed
of a striking viper.

    "What are you doing?"

    "I'm going to wrap it up again.  Maybe it'll prevent this...
vision or illusion thing from happening again.  Besides, I can't STAND
looking at it any more."

    "But Misao, if you touch it...."

    Seeing the faint but distinct signs of concern on Aoshi's face,
she gripped his hand with her good hand.  "Don't worry, Aoshi-sama.
I'll be really careful.  The thing makes my skin crawl... but someone
has to do it."

    He stared down at her and saw both the tightly controlled fear and
the resolve on her face.  He glanced at the blade.  It was a beautiful
piece of craftsmanship, but he found the weapon undeniably repulsive.
It seemed to drain every bit of the rapidly fading sunlight from the
room....

    Quietly, he said, "You only have one working hand.  I'll help
you."

    They both cautiously approached the table, almost as if the sword
was a dangerous beast capable of turning on them in an instant.

    (Maybe it can...,) he thought uneasily.

    As they gingerly gathered up the edges of the blanket, Aoshi took
the opportunity to take a good look at the sword hilt.

    "Take a look at this hilt ornament.  You see the same animal
design in the tsuba."

    Misao peered closely at the hilt, then at the guard, taking great
care not to touch the weapon.  "It... it looks like a dog in a weird
pose, but I don't recognize it.  Do you think it's some sort of family
crest?"

    "Perhaps, perhaps not.  It's a clue, at least."

    As they quickly shrouded the sword under multiple layers of
blanket and tied the bundle tight, Misao muttered, "I... I suppose we
could... remove the hilt and take a look at the sword's tang for any
inscriptions."  She looked absolutely nauseated by the idea of
handling that ominous black sword so much.

     Aoshi didn't look at all happy with the idea, either.  "That's
the obvious thing to do, but we should discuss it with the others
first."

    Misao glanced around the clinic.  She was probably the only person
who could see Tokio quietly talking to Saitoh in one of the clinic's
back rooms.  The ninja girl blinked in surprise as she watched
Saitoh's wife gently brush her fingers against his face.  The
policeman's response seemed even more amazing to her.

    (He's actually... HOLDING... her hand.)

    It was only the most fleeting exchange of touches -- easily missed
in the blink of an eye -- but Misao was astonished by the feelings of
reassurance and intimacy those two simple gestures represented.

    (So little... but they can mean so much...,) the ninja girl mused.
 

-----------------------------------
 
    "Kenshin."

    He didn't seem to hear the soft female voice calling his name, but
merely continued to stare at the slowly fading sunlight illuminating
the yard.

    (Strange... the light... instead of fading, it's turning into a
darker shade of red... just another shade of blood....)

    There was a brief pause, the rasping sound of a door sliding
closed, then someone touched his shoulder.

    "Kenshin."

    He abruptly snapped out of his trance of painful memories.
Kenshin slowly glanced up and said, "Kaoru-dono...."

    Pale, yet slightly flushed with fever, she stood in front of him
with a look of intense concern on her face.  She held out her hand to
him.

    Unthinkingly, he reached out to take her hand, then froze as he
realized that his own hand was covered in blood.

    (NO!  I can't get her dirty....)
 
    She could see the flash of sorrow and horror in his violet eyes.
Before he could pull away, Kaoru quickly knelt down on the porch and
grasped his bloodied fingers, holding them tightly.

    "No, Kenshin... don't.  It's all right.  It's just a little
blood....  There's nothing wrong with it.  It's your own blood,
Kenshin...."

    With her other hand, she reached out to touch the still bleeding
scar on his face.  He flinched away slightly from her fingers.

    "Kaoru-dono... I...," he whispered in tones of near despair.

    She bit her lip, then slowly said, "What we saw... was that... how
you got this?"  Her fingers lightly brushed along the scar running
parallel to his jaw.

    He nodded tensely.
 
    "Then... it's blood honorably shed, isn't it?  You did... what you
did because you thought it was necessary and right.  You didn't do it
because you enjoyed it or for your own gain."

    He whispered, "Sometimes... I don't know what's worse... to kill
with joy... or to kill without feeling...."

    Kaoru stared at him helplessly.  Kenshin usually looked as if he
was at most only in his early twenties... just a few years older than
herself.  But it was times like this when she really felt the
difference in their ages... and experience.

    He had been through terrible things... there was so much about his
life that she didn't know and that she couldn't understand.  Losing
her parents, struggling to keep the family dojo alive,... all these
struggles seemed almost trivial when compared to Kenshin's battle to
keep his own soul alive through unspeakable bloodshed and violence...
and so much of it committed by his own hands.

    Kenshin gasped sharply as he glanced down and saw Kaoru's hands
now covered in reddish smears.  He tried to pull his hands free, but
she clung to them with surprising determination.  Unable to face the
sight any longer, Kenshin finally turned his head away.

    Kaoru stared down at her bloodstained hands.  She could feel his
blood, warm and sticky on her fingers... and a gradual understanding
began to grow within her.  She could only guess at what his thoughts
might be, but she abruptly realized that in those smears of blood, she
saw something that he had forgotten... or long since dismissed as
unimportant.

    "Kenshin....  Kenshin, please look at me."
 
    He resisted at first, then reluctantly glanced at her, bracing
himself for what he might... what he probably would see....
Describing what he had done as the Hitokiri Battousai was one thing.
But no matter how carefully chosen... no matter how eloquently
spoken... words could never convey the true horror of those days and
nights in Kyoto all those years ago.

    But now she had experienced it for herself through her own
senses... witnessed his victims' fear with her own eyes... heard their
dying screams and moans with her own ears... smelled the blood and
entrails lying in the street....

    "Kenshin...  I can't be sure, but I'm guessing that when you see
this blood on both our hands, you're probably thinking of stains that
will never go away... sins that must be atoned for."

    His hands, slender yet incredibly strong, twitched in her grasp,
but she swiftly continued speaking.

    "But when I see this blood, I see something else.  You talk about
the blood you shed... all the people you killed.  But... but you never
talk about the blood YOU lost... the times you were hurt....  What
about your pain, Kenshin?"

    He stared at her with wide, violet eyes.
 
    "I....  Kaoru-dono...."
 
    She held up their clasped hands between them.  "That's what this
blood means to me.  Your pain and only that.  There's no need to hide
it from me, so please don't... go... away again...."

    Before he could speak, she shook her head sharply.  "I don't mean
physically, Kenshin.  I mean... in your heart... your mind... your
soul....  I can see it.  I can see you withdrawing... pulling away."
A faint, accusatory tone crept into her voice.

    Kenshin hung his head, unable to counter her charges.  They were
perfectly true.

    "Don't leave us again....  Don't leave ME again....  I... I want
us to be together...." she whispered in a slightly choked voice.

    He looked up and gave her a wistful, yet beautiful smile.
 
    "I won't, Kaoru-dono.  And... so do I."

-----------------------------------

    (Go, Jo-chan!) Sano silently cheered as he watched Kaoru step
outside to speak to Kenshin, closing the door behind her.

    Although no one inside the clinic could actually hear the quiet
conversation between Kenshin and Kaoru, through some trick of the
light, they could all SEE it.  The silhouettes against the
transluscent paper of the closed door were slightly blurred around the
edges, but they still showed every little movement... every little
touch... in almost uncanny detail, just like an elegant shadow puppet
show.

-----------------------------------

    To Misao, the shadowy movements of Kenshin and Kaoru seemed to be
eerily similar to what she saw going on between Saitoh and Tokio.  And
just like Saitoh and Tokio, the only physical contact between the two
people on the porch was the fleeting touch of fingers and the holding
of hands.

    She could only hear the blurred murmur of voices -- mostly Kaoru's
-- but Misao didn't need the exact words.  Somehow she understood what
they were saying just from their body language.

    ....Kaoru extending her hand to Kenshin....

    ....Kenshin tentatively reaching to take her hand....
    ....his abrupt flinch and retreat....

    ....Kaoru sinking to her knees and holding his hand....
    ....Kaoru slowly touching his face....
 
    ....Kenshin constantly looking away, staring downward,... pulling
back from her....

    ....Kaoru always reaching out to him, leaning forward,... drawing
him back to her....

    Finally... Kaoru holding up their clasped hands between them as
the two of them leaned toward each other.  And they stayed that way as
the last of the sunlight vanished and the outlines of their shadows
slowly faded.

    Misao sniffled and felt her throat tightening as she watched the
silent conversation between Kenshin's and Kaoru's bodies -- a
graceful, almost unbearably poignant dance.  Hastily wiping at the
tears in her eyes, she groped for the closest piece of cloth -- which
happened to be the sleeve of Aoshi's bedrobe -- and loudly blew her
nose.

    Realizing what she had done only after the fact, she turned bright
red and stammered, "Aoshi-... Aoshi-sama...."

    He gazed at her with no particular expression on his face.  But as
she stared up into his eyes, Misao saw the imperfectly hidden signs of
old pain and regrets... of lingering memories of his own personal
darkness only just recently left behind.

    She wondered, (Have I been expecting the wrong thing from him?
I've been trying to get Aoshi to blurt out his feelings for all the
world to see... but what if he can't?)  Her thoughts drifted to their
dream conversation of the night before, then she put it together with
she had just seen between Kenshin and Kaoru.

    (Is that really it?  You somehow feel unworthy and besmirched, so
you don't want to contaminate me?  Is that why you refuse to let the
slightest bit of caring and emotion show?)

    Something abruptly boiled over in Misao.  Without any warning, she
suddenly grabbed the collar of Aoshi's bedrobe and yanked his head
down to her level.  Hissing softly in his ear, she said, "Is that why
you waited until you were nearly at death's door for me to tell me
that you cared about me, huh?"

    "Misao...?"  He gave her a faintly bewildered stare.

    Keeping her voice low, she snarled, "That's the ONLY reason you
bothered to actually say it out loud to me, right?  You didn't expect
to survive, did you?  You fully expected to bleed to death right on
top of their graves, didn't you?"

    Aoshi eyed her with the same startled stare that a person might
bestow upon a cute little rabbit suddenly gone rabid.

    "Well, you DID survive and you DID tell me and I'm not about to
let you go crawling back behind your walls, got it?" Misao growled
angrily into his ear.

-----------------------------------

    Throughout the entire conversation between Kenshin and Kaoru, the
others had tensely watched the shadows moving on the paper walls,
afraid to utter a sound.  Now they all heaved a silent sigh of relief
as Kenshin and Kaoru seemed to come to some sort of happy resolution.

    Sano glanced over at Misao whispering into Aoshi's ear and
wondered at the nervous, almost hunted expression that suddenly
appeared on the man's face.

    (What the hell is that girl telling him?)

    Then Sano thought he heard Saitoh utter a sharp laugh.  He walked
over to the back room and asked Tokio, "Is he okay?"

    She turned and gave him a slight smile.  "I think things are under
control for the moment."

    Sano gave Tokio a curious look as she calmly stood between Sano
and her husband.  Kenshin had talked about her strength of will and
her determination.  He didn't doubt that Kenshin was probably right.
It made perfect sense on an intellectual level.  Of course Saitoh
wouldn't marry someone who couldn't take care of herself.

    But when he was actually looking at her... well, that was a
completely different story.  As a tall, wiry man with a lean, austere,
positively cruel face, Saitoh LOOKED dangerous.  Any sensible person
would be wary of a person like that.

    On the other hand, Tokio was a slim woman of medium height,
graceful and exceedingly beautiful in a quiet, understated way.  She
looked fragile, delicate,... and about as harmless as you could get.

    (A she-wolf?  Nah, she looks more like a doe.  Which makes you
wonder how she manages to avoid getting all chewed up from living with
Saitoh all these years.)  And as for sleeping with that man....
(Ewww... I'm NOT even going to go there....)

    As Sano puzzled over Tokio, Saitoh stood up and gave the fighter
an icy 'if-you-say-the-wrong-thing-I'm-kill-you-on-the-spot' sort of
stare.

    Sano wasn't about to say a damn thing at the moment.  This wasn't
a joking matter.  In fact, the current situation was about as unfunny
as it could get.  But before the fighter could say anything, there was
a loud pounding on the outer gate of the clinic compound.
 
    Saitoh rudely brushed Sano out of the way and flung open the front
door.  He smirked slightly as he stared down at the two startled
people still holding hands on the porch.  Without the slightest
remorse for interrupting the intimate moment between Kenshin and
Kaoru, he stalked right between them -- forcing Kenshin to let go of
Kaoru's hand -- on his way to the front gate.

    Sano snarled, "Why that insensitive, cold-hearted, unfeeling,
heartless bastard...."  His voice abruptly trailed off as he realized
that Tokio was standing right next to him with a mildly curious look
in her eyes and a gentle smile on her face.  Sano felt his face going
bright red with embarassment.

    In the meantime, Megumi quietly drifted to Kaoru's side and handed
her a clean, damp cloth.  Kaoru accepted it with a quick nod of thanks
and gently began to wipe the blood from Kenshin's hand and cheek.

-----------------------------------

    "Inspector Fujita!"
 
    Saitoh curtly replied, "Yes?"
 
    The policeman waiting outside the gateway gasped, "Sir, an urgent
message!  I'm supposed to await your answer," and handed over a piece
of paper.

    Saitoh's eyes narrowed as he read through the note.  Refolding it
with abrupt movements, he sharply asked the waiting officer, "Are you
aware of the contents of this message?"
 
    "Not exactly, sir... but Headquarters is in a quiet uproar about
it.  It seems impossible, but with so many reports from unrelated
sources...."

    "Any reports of similar incidents here in Tokyo?"
 
    "Here, sir?  Not that I know of."

    "Very well, I'll be at headquarters at dawn.  Arrange for a
carriage and boat passage to Osaka."

    "Yes sir!  Uh... for how many, sir?"
 
    Saitoh glanced back at the clinic.  "Actually, make arrangements
for a party of eight to ten.  And post an officer outside."

    "Yes, sir!"

    As Saitoh returned to the clinic, Sano said, "Oy!  What's with the
sour face?"
 
    Saitoh gave him a particularly nasty look.  "It seems that there
certain... sightings... in Kyoto."

    "Sightings?  What the hell do you mean by that?"  By this time,
Saitoh had attracted everyone's attention.

    The policeman smiled slowly.  The sight made a chill go down
Sano's spine.

    "It seems that there've been multiple, credible reports of
Shinsengumi and Ishin Shishi forces suddenly appearing in the streets
of Kyoto last night."

    Kenshin jerked his head up.  "WHAT!?"
 
    "They seem to appear, then disappear without a trace.  My
superiors have apparently decided that they want me in Kyoto to
personally investigate these... occurrences."

    Tokio walked up to her husband and murmured, "Hajime-san...."
 
    He glanced briefly at his wife and said flatly, "You, too."
 
    Tokio nodded obediently as Misao asked, "Why do they want YOU?"

    Kenshin abruptly stood up, his cheek still bleeding, although very
slightly.

    "Misao, it's because he's one of the very few of the Shinsengumi
still alive.  The government isn't sure whether this is just some
elaborate hoax or something... more mysterious."

    "You think it's related to what just happened to us?"  Kaoru
awkwardly rose to her feet, then staggered slightly.
 
    "Kaoru-dono!"  Kenshin swiftly grabbed her to keep her from
falling on her face.
 
-----------------------------------

    It seemed that the effort of trying to reach Kenshin and to bring
him back had drained the last of Kaoru's strength.  She didn't protest
as he picked her up and put her in bed.  He hovered anxiously nearby
as Megumi checked Kaoru's temper, then gave Tokio a worried look.

    "What's wrong, Megumi-dono?" Kenshin asked.
 
    "Her fever's gone up.  Not much," she hastily added, "but it is a
bit worrisome.  Really, she should have stayed in bed today.  All this
activity is just draining her strength unnecessarily."
 
    As Kaoru tossed her head fretfully on the pillow, Tokio pulled the
ribbon from Kaoru's hair, then loosely braided the silky black strands
to keep them out of the way.

    Kaoru mumbled her thanks and curled up under the covers.  She was
suddenly so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open and her mind
seemed eerily disconnected from her aching body.

-----------------------------------

    As Kenshin and Megumi hastily helped Kaoru to bed, Misao and the
others all turned to stare at Saitoh.  He stared back at them, neither
confirming or denying anything.

    There was another knock at the door.  Recognizing the visitor,
Misao was out the door in a flash.  There was a quick exchange of
words, then she returned holding a piece of paper.

    Aoshi frowned slightly, "Isn't that...?"
 
    "Yup."  She hastily opened the message and started reading.  They
all watched in alarm as she went very, very pale.

    "Misao?" Aoshi asked sharply.
 
    "It's from Jiya...."  She numbly handed it to Aoshi.

    Sano, Kenshin, and the others crowded around Aoshi, but couldn't
decipher the coded message.  He read it through once... then read it
again... then read it yet another time.

    Finally, Sano snapped, "What does it say!?"
 
    Aoshi looked at Saitoh and answered in a soft whisper.
 
    "The ghosts of the dead are walking in Kyoto."

-----------------------------------
(end of part 10)

**********************************************************************

Next part:   A return to the past and terrible losses.  ^_^

--------------------------------------------
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