Brotherly Love:

MIDNIGHT

Setting: Kamiya Dojo, Post Kyoto Arc 

The moon shone high above the Kamiya Dojo. The heat of the summer’s day had finally dissipated, leaving a pleasantly warm night. The usual quiet was broken by only by the chirping of the crickets in the yard, the almost-inaudible swish of a sword passing through the darkness, and the periodic rumble of wood plowing into the ground.            

Karou sat in her bedroll, knowing from the depth of the blackness why she had awakened. With a sigh, she stood, wrapping herself in her yukata. She had ignored his late wanderings for almost a week, but her curiosity had been long since piqued.  

She slipped silently from her room and padded down the hallway. She knew that absolute silence wasn’t necessary – Yahiko could sleep through almost anything.            

She entered the dojo boldly, passing through the open doors and heading straight for the illuminated space where her rurouni stood. Kenshin had placed a wooden post in the dust of the courtyard, and lit a series of lamps and set them in a semi-circle around himself. 

His sakabatou shone in the light, glinting and flashing as he stabbed and spun. He wore only his hakama. Kaoru saw that his bare chest and arms were corded with muscles that shifted and bunched with each movement. Her heart thumped eagerly, uncontrollably.  

She waited beside the wooden door of the inner dojo. Kenshin finished his kata and calmly sheathed his blade. She had known that he would sense her ki – there was no way to hide from the Battousai’s honed senses.  

“Kaoru-dono.”            

He turned to her, his bright hair falling over his brow, obscuring his eyes.            

“Don’t hide from me, Kenshin,” she said.             

He raised his head, and she saw the gleam of his violet eyes. “Gomen nasai. This dishonorable one is sorry he woke you.” He stuck his sakaba into his belt and reached for his discarded gi.            

Kaoru’s hand was on his arm, halting him, before she even thought about the action. For a heartbeat they stood there.  

Kaoru blushed and removed her hand. “Gomen, Kenshin.”  

He watched her carefully, the gi swaying lifelessly from his hand. The end trailed in the dust. A drop of sweat rolled down his chest and Kaoru watched it, unable to look away as it slid down, down, down and into the sweaty waistband of his hakama.  

“Were you finished?” She hoped he wouldn’t notice the breathless edge to her voice.  

“Iie.” His intense eyes followed her every movement. “Demo, I will go into the dojo before the rain falls.” Rumbling thunder followed his statement. Kaoru blushed. She hadn’t noticed the changing weather. She should have.  

She noticed the sweat that ran in rivulets down his face, the way his hair was matted to his forehead. “Let me watch you,” she said impulsively. 

He stepped in front of her. “That is not necessary.” 

She glared at him, and he relented, stepping back. “You may, if you like.”  

They went into the dojo, taking the lamps with them. 

Kenshin stepped to the middle of the room. “Stay back,” he warned her. 

Kaoru nodded, backing up until she touched the wall. She bundled the gi he had handed her into her arms and clutched it to her. 

He was still for a long moment, and then he went into motion, his arms sweeping and the sakaba flashing in the light of the lamps.  

He was dangerous. She had known that for some time, of course. But now, as she watched him swing his sword, she could only see the exquisite beauty of his economical motions. His arms shone in the light, the slight dusting of hair visible in the dimness. It was at times like this that Kaoru really remembered that the rurouni was so much older than she was. The seriousness, the dedication to his art reminded her the he had begun his training before she was born.  

It was had to think of the rurouni that way, and yet, at the same time, she always felt the weight of years that perched on his shoulders.  

The blade hissed in the stillness of the night, and his swing was punctuated by a crack of thunder. Kaoru looked up as she heard the pounding of rain on the roof over her head.  

Kenshin didn’t seem to notice the change in weather. 

His hakama belled gracefully as he shifted stances, the shadows dancing with his movements. He turned, the sakaba stabbing and lunging. 

Kaoru watched, enthralled. 

His sword arm dropped abruptly, and an utter stillness fell over his body. At first, she thought something was wrong, and she tensed in anticipation of an attack, but then she realized what Kenshin was doing. 

He was praticing his ki-sensing skills as well as his sword skills.  

The only movement was the slow swing of the sakaba that hung from his grip – naked steel in the shimmer of the lamplight. 

It was fascinating to watch. She could almost feel the touch of his aura as it stretched out. It was like a warm hand on her face, on her thighs beneath her warm yukata.  

She could hear the thrum of his heartbeat.  

It was incredibly intimate, and she found herself almost embarrassed by the sensation. The darkness of the dojo, the soft glow of the candlelight and the overwhelming presence of Kenshin sent her own heart thumping in a strange mix of fear and excitement.  

His ki kept expanding outward, washing over her. She struggled to breathe, and felt herself begin to perspire. Her body screamed at her to run – run fast and run far, but her legs were frozen beneath her. It didn’t matter, she was locked in place by a sense of awe far stronger than any fear she might harbor of the red-haired ex-hitokiri. 

It wasn’t like the coldness she had felt when Goro – Saitoh – had come to the dojo, but a tangible heat that was at once both merciless and throbbing with the essence of the man who exuded it. It was like diving into Kenshin himself, into the calmness of rurouni and the pitiless soul of the Battousai all in one.  

Kaoru ducked her head. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.  

Beneath the heavy aura she felt sadness and determination. She was surrounded by it.  

A sob escaped her lips. She balled the sleeve of her yutaka in her palm and held it to her mouth, but Kenshin had heard it.  

“Kaoru-dono!” The aura was gone, and the sakabatou was already sheathed. 

Kenshin knelt before her, violet eyes wide and filled with worry.  

“I’m all right,” Kaoru sniffed, blinking back the last of her tears. 

“Gomen,” Kenshin said. His hair fell down to shield his eyes as it always did when he was feeling particularly disgusted with himself – or dangerous. “This dishonorable one should have insisted that you return to bed.”           

She ignored his comment and carefully righted the sleeves of her yukata. “I understand why you don’t want to practice during the day,” she said finally. “You’ve lectured Yahiko enough about not wanting to pass on your technique without him spying on you to learn it, but….” 

He raised his head after a moment of silence. “But?”  

“But you are so beautiful!” Her hand reached out, then fell to her lap. “Your movements, your grace. You have so much you could teach us all!”  

Kaoru got to her feet. She threw her hair over her shoulder and stared as the rurouni slowly stood. Her face felt flushed. She hadn’t meant to become so impassioned.  

“Thank you for letting me watch you practice,” she said.  

Kenshin stepped closer to her. His hand, rough with calluses, slid under her chin. She smelled his sweat, and became aware of his near-nakedness.  

She thrust his gi at him, averting her eyes. The moment was broken.  

“Thank you,” he murmured, taking the clothing. 

His movements were unhurried as he dressed himself, and she was still all too aware of his strength, his closeness. The stained, worn fabric clung to his shoulders. Kaoru found herself marveling at the strength in his wiry arms and muscled shoulders. For a man so small, he had wondrous power.  

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” he said quietly.  

The rain pounding above them made it seem that they were in a place far separate from Japan, from the world itself. It made his apology echo in the empty room.  

He bowed his head and the cross-shaped scar on his cheek looked even deeper in the shadows of the night.  

“You didn’t frighten me,” she said, staring at the smooth curve of his chin and the corded muscles in his neck. “You didn’t practice before, though. Why do you start now?” 

Kenshin was walking toward the shoji screen, and for a moment Kaoru didn’t think that he was going to answer her question. He paused, looking outside at the sheets of water pouring from the sky. The moon was almost completely covered. Only a few shafts of light gleamed from the cloud cover to illuminate the night. 

“I wish that you did not see this side of this dishonorable one,” he said slowly.  

Koaru made her way to his side, amazed that he was speaking so freely to her – this was, after all, the rurouni who had at first refused to share his very name!  

“What is it, Kenshin?” She dared to touch his shoulder. His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. “Why do you do this so late?” 

He turned to her – finally – and the shifting clouds, by some trick, revealed the stark planes of his face. His eyes were dark shadows and his skin was burnished gold. Kaoru saw turmoil in his gaze, and reflections of the bleakness that sometimes crept into his voice.  

“I almost died,” he whispered, staring at her, trapping her with his eyes. “If I had died in Kyoto, Shishio Makoto would have destroyed all of Japan.” 

“You won, though!”  

Kenshin grabbed her hand as she reached to touch him. The violence of the movement startled her.  

“Kenshin!” 

He ignored her struggled to free herself, ignored the midnight strands that fell around her shoulders. “Don’t you understand?” He hissed. “Don’t you know how weak I was?” 

“You weren’t weak,” she said, giving in to his touch and ignoring the pain. “You won. That’s all that matters.” 

“No it’s not!” He threw her hand from him. His fingers traced patterns over the hilt of his sword and the scabbard that sheathed the dangerous blade.  

She stared into his eyes, reading the anger there, the hurt, and under everything else, the fear.  

“You won,” she repeated slowly, “and now you train to make sure that you will win again.” 

He flinched. “I shouldn’t have to win.” His voice was raw.  

Kaoru felt the pain in his gaze in her body. Her heart thumped harshly in her chest, and she clutched her hands to her breasts. “You shouldn’t have to die, either.” 

The words hung in the air between them. 

Kenshin dropped his head. “Megumi told you. She should not have done that.” His tone was lifeless, totally divorced from the impassioned forcefulness of just a minute before. 

“You should have told me!” Kaoru burst out. “Your discipline is killing you!”  

She was crying, she realized, as a sob bubbled out of her throat. She pulled the worn panels of the yukata tighter around her neck. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want her to tell me,” she finally managed to say, “but we need you, even if you don’t see that. Yahiko and I, and even Sano, we need you here for us.” 

“You need my sword,” Kenshin said. “I am not my sword.”  

His tone was rough again, so rough that she stepped closer to look into his eyes, suspecting that she had, however unwittingly, called the dark half of Kenshin to herself with her prattle. 

His eyes weren’t amber, but neither were they the innocent violet she had come to expect. They were a mix of both, a deep, shadowed amber that held hints of lightness. A thrill spilled down her back, but she didn’t know if what she felt was fear, or anticipation.  

“We need more than that, Kenshin,” she chided gently.  

He looked at her. He looked vulnerable, uncertain. “Do you, Kaoru-dono?” 

Steeling herself, Kaoru dared the impossible. She reached out her hand, touching the collar of his gi and soothing the worn fabric against the hot, sweaty flesh beneath it. This close, he smelled of man and sweat, and a faint hint of the laundry soap that he used every day. She could feel him outside of his skin, like he was larger than he appeared. It was as if her hand was in his chest, touching his heart, instead of merely resting on the flat planes of muscle that held him together. 

“Of course we do. You’re like a father to Yahiko, and … and like a brother to me.” A brother? Where, she wondered, had that unlikely comparison come from? “We’re a family now, Kenshin. You cannot think that what affects you does not affect us.”  

“Kaoru-dono.” Slowly, his arms came around her.  

She gasped as she was enfolded in his arms. “Thank you, Kaoru-dono.” He released her, and smiled a bright smile. “Though this unworthy one does not know if he likes to be called brother…”  

Kaoru saw the shadow of disappointment in his gaze. Could she dare to hope?  

There was a muffled crack of thunder. The storm was passing. The rain had slackened off, she realized. The night was growing late. Kaoru found herself yawning. 

“Are you finished for tonight, then?”  

“Hai.”  

He stood at her back, watching as the rain pattered over the edge of the roof and plopped to the ground below. Each drop reflected the shine of the lamp’s light as it fell, making it look like a thousand stars were falling past her eyes. She took a step back, and leaned into his warmth.

He didn’t touch her, but she felt the warm slide of his ki caress her entire body in waves of strength.

“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu won’t kill me,” Kenshin said at last. “That is the reason that my practice is so important, it keeps my body at a point where it can maintain the stress of my discipline.” He paused while the rain slowed to a halt. “I had forgotten this.”

Kaoru stared blind into the night, thousands of questions running through her mind, none of them able to reach her tongue.

“Come, it has stopped raining. I will walk you to your room.”

She followed him, heart hammering, still unable to speak.

He slid open the shoji screen for her, and closed it behind her. “Good night, Kaoru-oneechan,” he teased.

Kaoru fell asleep smiling.

THE END