by: Angela-chan
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin © Nobuhiro Watsuki, Jump Comics, Shueisha, Fuji TV, and Sony Entertainment. The song "What Matters Most" was composed by Kenny Rankin. Standard disclaimers apply.
The shadow of a young man lingers over a solitary grave in the park. His chin is jutted forward defiantly, showing his inner pride. Yet his shoulders are hunched forward, and his hands are slightly trembling—a sign of inner sorrow.
At his waist hangs a sword. A killing weapon—indeed. A trembling hand slowly reaches for the hilt.
The sun is slowly rising over the horizon, starting to set the sky alight. Yet in the heart of this young man, the darkness still remains. A darkness that not even the brightest ray of light can totally set aside. An emptiness that can never be filled by even the warmest of embraces.
A soft sigh of bitter resignation escapes from his lips. {It’s all over now} he thinks. {The miracle that might have saved me from myself—it’s gone now. I’ve awakened from this dream I never wished to end.}
[Music starts]
The hand of that desolate figure opens, releasing a stream of white rose petals. Turning away, the lonely figure of the Hitokiri Battousai walks on.
It’s not how long we held each other’s hand
In the corner of his mind’s eye, Himura Kenshin remembers the first time he laid eyes on the woman in the grave.
What matters is how well we loved each other
He had protected her from the men in the restaurant—yet he had only caught a glimpse of her. Her dark eyes were staring right at him, with a look he could not decipher even now.
It’s not how far we travelled on our way
The next time he saw her, she had been bathed in blood; blood shed by his own sword. {How ironic} he thinks {that the sight I saw the first time I met her was the same sight I saw the night I lost her forever. The only difference was the look on her face . . .}
Or what we found to say
She fainted before him, and though he had the option of killing a witness to his crimes, he rushed forward and caught her. It was the first time he’d ever held a woman in his arms . . .
It’s not the spring you see
When she awakened, she could have done what she set out to do: drive a sword into his heart. Instead, she decided to wait and see. And she decided to remain.
{She should just have killed me} he thinks bitterly. {Why did she hesitate?}
Not even she knew. Maybe it was just because she had decided to listen to the dictation of her conscience.
But all the shades of green
The next time he held her in his arms, it was all because of a natural instinct. She had approached him only to cover him with a blanket to give him warmth . . . and he had instinctively attacked her. Fortunately for him, he had controlled his hand and stopped an inch before surely having killed her—if only he could have done so one more time . . .
It’s not how long I held you in my arms
And she finally decided to listen to the dictation of her heart. Though inside out, she was like a cube of ice, cold to all sources of warmth, frozen in ways and beliefs, there was a warm part within that gave her the basic capability to be hurt, to feel sorrow . . . and to love.
What matters is how sweet the years together
Could he ever forget that beautiful afternoon when they stood at the bridge overlooking the sunset? He would always remember that moment as the first time he had truly seen her . . . the golden sunlight clearing his eyes of the blood he was used to seeing and opening his heart so that he would see the beautiful miracle before him. The cool wind blowing through his nostrils, taking in the scent of white plums that he would forever remember; the sweet melody of her gentle voice that would echo in his dreams throughout eternity.
It’s not how many summer times we had to give to fall
Could he ever really forget the anger that raged within upon reading that letter, the letter that had changed his life forever and plunged it to darkness? Perhaps he should have known all along that it was inevitable. The signs were already there. When her younger brother walked into his life and bit his hand, the first drop of blood had hit the ground . . . and that was only a calling for more . . .
Early morning smiles
And the last time he’d held her in his arms, he knew that his happy days were over.
We tearfully recall
He remembers the first time she gazed at him with that penetrating gaze of hers, an icy look in those dark eyes. Yet now that she looked on him for the last time, she was smiling—and crying.
What matters most is that we loved at all
Her warm tears melted the ice in her heart, and in the last moment of her life, she could finally honestly admit to herself that she was happy. If only she had let forgiveness into her heart earlier, maybe she could have enjoyed that happiness for a while longer . . .
What matters most is that we loved at all
His tears only proved one thing: that he was only human, and that humans made mistakes. If he had realized this sooner, maybe he wouldn’t be crying so hard now. And maybe, if only he had let love into his heart earlier, he could have enjoyed his little snatch at happiness a little while longer . . .
But nothing can change the past. Only the future is left undecided.
ddddd
The shadow of the Hitokiri now travels alone, searching for a warmth in the cold night that could last a little bit longer. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake he had before . . .
[Music ends]
END
08/04/99
Like it or not, this fic was brought to you by another no-school day! Whoopee! Okay, guys, I’m really sorry this fic was kinda depressing. Kenshin and Tomoe’s relationship was pretty sad, anyway, nothing can change that. But that’s what makes it so great, ne?
I don’t know if you cried after reading this or not. But someday, I’m gonna loosen you up and make you cry because of my words. ^-^
Angela-chan ~~~~