Spoiler Warning: This fanfic takes place after the end of Revenge, and contains numerous spoilers for said arc.  Read at your own risk.

The clock ticked a near-silent reckoning as Kaoru watched the slow rise and fall of Kenshin's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing as he slept.  Her vigil was habitual rather than necessary; the rurouni wasn't wandering anywhere.  Knowing that Kenshin would listen politely to her instructions and then follow them or not as he deemed fit, Megumi had insisted her hardheaded patient accept a sedative to allow time for his body to begin to heal -- thereby ensuring that he wouldn't pull his stitches or over-exert tired muscles.  Reluctantly agreeing when Kaoru turned beseeching eyes upon him, he'd still flatly refused to stay at the clinic.  "Kaoru-dono wishes to return home," he'd said simply, and that had been the end of it.

Kaoru sighed gently, shifting beside him as she brushed a few strands of red silk away from his face.  His unspoken reasons for insisting he return to the dojo were both touching and troubling, the compulsion to protect neither new nor surprising . . . but somehow stronger, deeper.  The extent of Enishi's jinchuu had not yet been revealed to her, but Kenshin bore the marks of it both physically and mentally.  Where before her rurouni had been slender, now he was waif-thin and pale, ribs and shoulder blades standing out in sharp relief.  That much and more had been apparent when he'd removed his kimono for Megumi's examination, the young doctor beginning her work as soon as they were settled for the trip back to the mainland.  Biting her lip, Kaoru had stifled a cry of distress at the sight of the deep slash running from his collarbone down almost to his waist.  Imprinted on her memory in the moments just before Enishi had declared her his true target, she recognized it instantly; but with nearly three weeks to heal, it should never have reopened so easily -- not if it had been tended properly.  The mark where the madman's tachi had pierced the muscle of his left arm was faintly pink and strangely smooth -- as if it had been cauterized to remove infection, and had repaired itself only recently.  It was another indication that the wounds he'd received in his first fight with Enishi had never been treated, that the rurouni had somehow been neglected . . . or had neglected to care for himself.  Kenshin, what did you do to yourself?

Three weeks.  Three weeks since she'd last been in this room, since they'd last been together.  That long, too, since he'd last used it himself . . . or so she suspected from the state in which she'd found it.  As Megumi and Sanosuke prodded Kenshin toward the bathhouse, needing to remove the dirt and blood and salt covering his thin form before the worst of his cuts and abrasions could be stitched and bandaged, Kaoru had cheerfully offered to spread his futon and prepare some tea.  Opening the door even as his faintly husky voice rose in protest behind her, she'd stopped, frozen in place, eyes wide.  The futon lay where they'd left it in the center of the room, but the blankets had been tossed about as if in a fury, the mattress slashed down the middle.  Startled, her laughing insistence faded to be replaced by a near-desperate confusion.  Doushite?  Violet eyes read the hurt and worry tinged question in her gaze, but unable to answer in front of the others, the pain and emotion behind the truth too private to reveal to any but her, Kenshin had merely whispered an apology, silently promising the explanations would come later.

Explanations would be nice, Kaoru thought, frowning a little in confused frustration.  She'd felt the way Kenshin had clutched at her when he fell into her arms on the beach, his hold almost painfully tight, the way a man afraid of losing something seeks to keep it safe, or -- having once lost it -- clings to keep from losing it again.  He wasn't alone; more than merely glad to see her or to have her safely returned, they all watched her as if a little afraid to believe she was real . . . but none of them would tell her why, seeming to feel they had no right to speak of it.  Megumi had said as much, her cinnamon eyes suspiciously bright.  "Ken-san will tell you when he's ready, when he decides that he wants you to know."

Taking Kenshin's hand in hers and tangling their fingers together, Kaoru shifted again, this time to lean lightly against his side, his hip nestled in the small of her back.  If only you'll tell me what happened . . . please let me help.  Time had shown them to be fairly evenly matched when it came to stubbornness, but she wasn't willing to let him suffer under some unknown burden of guilt, some bleak vision of what might have been that only he could imagine or contemplate.  "You already take responsibility for too much," she told him, her tone affectionate yet vaguely reproving, the whispered observation scarcely disturbing the quiet of the room.  "Never forgiving yourself for anything, and always punishing yourself for everything."  Hugging his arm to her she announced matter-of-factly: "Kenshin no baka.  If you need scolding I'll tell you . . . and right now, the only thing you need scolding for is whatever you did to yourself when I wasn't watching!"  He almost seemed to hear, his mouth curving in the briefest of smiles, his arm tightening around her waist.

Cradled in his warmly unwitting embrace, she let her eyes travel wistfully over his features, wanting to kiss away the pain lingering around his eyes and mouth, soothe the scrapes and bruises with the balm of her lips and touch.  Later, she promised them both, her nose crinkling impishly as she imagined his reaction, later . . . but soon.  A comfortable sort of excitement had settled over her when she'd first seen him on Enishi's island, an anticipation which kept her from finding sleep herself, which kept her there, waiting for him to awake.  Yearnings aside, part of her also worried what he would do or think if he awoke alone, her need to be with him no less compelling than his to have her there, part and parcel with his insistence on returning to the dojo.  Giving in to another unvoiced urge she moved to lie beside him, her head pillowed on his good shoulder, his arm curving naturally around her waist.  His warmth was a faint, lulling pressure along her spine, his clean ginger scent touched sweetly with honey.  Closing her eyes she sank into the feeling of safety, sighing a little in contentment.

This was home.

---

Completion.

The cessation of agony too poignant to be borne.

His other half returned.

Even in sleep he could sense her nearby, her mere presence a balm to torn emotions, soothing protective instincts and calming unvoiced fears.  Whispering to him, briefly scolding in the way only she had ever dared, she brought him closer to the surface, her voice reassuring to a man who had been too much alone in her absence, too long trapped in his grief.  Her gentle touch coloring his dreams and coaxing his waking, Kenshin stirred slowly, mind and reactions still clouded by Megumi's sedative.  As the unfocused knowledge of his body's disjointed pain impressed itself upon him through the confusion of his thoughts, so too did the warm press of Kaoru's soft, feminine form against his side.

This time the dream was real.

Tilting his head slightly and raising drowsy lids, he let his eyes confirm what his senses had already told him: her dark head was nestled in the crook of his shoulder, her back to him, her hands wrapped loosely around his arm.  Releasing his held breath in a long sigh he reached for her, frowning in mild distraction as the sling around his right arm hampered the movement.  Needing to hold her, he tightened the clasp of the arm in which she lay cradled, pulling her to him as he rolled onto his side.

"Tadaima," she whispered as he settled his chin against the soft curve of her shoulder, his scarred cheek pressed to the smooth skin of her neck.

Kenshin's throat tightened, knowing she understood the importance he placed on those simple words, what they meant when he said them to her.  "Okaerinasai," he returned, closing his eyes and turning his face into the jasmine-scented fall of her hair.  "Okaerinasai."  The words were so simple, so completely true . . . and so inadequate to express everything he felt.

She seemed to know, her slender fingers stroking comfortingly over his arm.  "I missed you."

At her careful coaxing he could almost -- almost -- smile.  "Sessha . . ." his voice was rough, stumbling over what he would say, "sessha mo."  Another inadequacy.  A man didn't miss his life's blood, didn't cry at the blow that stopped his heart.  Everything that mattered had ended as he stood in the dojo doorway, Gein's monstrous puppet filling his vision.  The arm around Kaoru's waist trembled as he sought to hold her closer still, combating the chill memory with warm reality.

Feeling the telltale motion, she let him hear the concern heavy in her voice when next she murmured his name.  Shaking his shaggy mane of red hair in answer, he buried his face deeper in the soft silk of her own ebon tresses.  Where her yukata had slipped from her shoulders, baring her back, his breath danced warm and moist against her skin, unexpected tears beating a hushed rhythm as they fell. "Kenshin . . .?!"  Pushing against his tight hold she rose up onto her elbow, turning to face him, worry and alarm clear in her voice.  The emotive violet eyes she so loved met hers without shame, filled with a mixture of relief and remorse, the whole too tangled to unravel without his willing it.  Wordlessly answering his pleading gaze she wrapped her arms about him, cradling his head against her chest as his emotions finally found release.  He cried quietly, his ragged breathing the only betraying sound, and even that was hidden in her low crooning.  "I'm here," she whispered repeatedly, "I'm safe."

Gradually his near-silent weeping passed, and his desperate hold weakened.  As he relaxed, Kaoru's fingers continued to stroke repeatedly through his hair, comforting him with the reminder of her constant fascination, a detail too abstract to be merely imagined.  Whatever his fears, however lost he had been . . . she was with him now.  Beneath his ear her heart beat steadily, increasing an anxious pace as she coaxed him to explain: "Will you tell me?"

He'd awaited her asking with both dread and anticipation from the moment he'd seen her face during Megumi's examination.  "Aa," though soft voiced, there was no hesitation in his agreement, no indication of his fear that she would reject him once she learned how far he'd fallen without her.  Pain too private to share with any other was meant to be shared with her, it was her right.  Kenshin straightened, bringing her with him to huddle side by side on his futon, hands clasped.  "Kaoru, do you know what Rakuninmura is?"

She blinked, startled by the question, and worried over the possible implications.  "It's . . . it's a place for those who no longer care about living or dying.  Demo, Kenshin--"

Calloused fingers settled gently over her lips, silencing her protest.  "Rakuninmura is a refuge for those who have lost everything.  It is where sessha lived-- iya," he paused, shaking his head sharply, denying his choice of words.  "Sessha existed there for almost two weeks after Enishi's attack on the dojo."

"Doushite?"  Kaoru's blue eyes were wide, stricken, "Doushite?"

He brought his forehead to rest against hers as his hand shifted to cup the nape of her neck, offering what little solace he could.  "Enishi planned his jinchuu carefully, staging everything with the same care as a director positioning actors in a play.  He knew how each of us would react, particularly you and I."  Pained by the way her lips trembled with the effort not to cry, he stroked his thumb soothingly over her cheek, cursing the sling that bound his other arm, preventing him from holding her the way they both needed.  "When you disappeared in the smoke, he knew I would be frantic to find you.  He counted on it, wanting me to be -- needing me to be -- as off-balance as possible, already half-believing I was too late."

At his words Kaoru froze, suddenly knowing how his accounting would end, shaken to the core at Enishi's deliberate cruelty.  Her arms found their way around Kenshin's neck of their own accord, clinging as he told her the worst of it.

"I found . . ." his jaw worked soundlessly for a moment as he struggled with the memory, voice brittle with pain when he continued, ". . .you . . . in the dojo."  The violet eyes he turned to her were haunted, wounded, shown something he would never -- could never -- forget.  "There was a cross scar cut into your cheek . . ." he drew in a gasping, shuddering breath, " . . . and his watou had been stabbed straight through your heart, pinning your body to the wall."

The strong shoulders under her palms were shaking now, sobbing the way he hadn't before.  Without thinking Kaoru began rocking him, tears streaming down her face as well.

"So much pain," his words were barely recognizable, whispered through tight lips, "so much pain, and your eyes . . . your eyes were open to see it all.  There was no mercy in him . . ."

"Shhh . . . it didn't happen," she pushed his hair back from his face, her forehead still pressed to his as she smoothed the wetness from his cheeks.  "It didn't happen, he didn't hurt me."  She pressed kisses to his eyes, his brow, seeking to comfort him enough to let it go.  "It didn't happen!"

He pulled away, his head bowing lower.  "Sumanu . . . I failed you, then.  I almost failed you completely--"

" Kenshin!  You didn't--"

"I wasn't there!"  his voice and eyes both blazed with a fierce sort of pain, "I wasn't there, and when I found you . . . her . . ." The agony of loss had swallowed him whole, leaving him broken, damaged . . . useless.  "Afterwards . . . I would have been content to sit and rot in Rakuninmura . . ."

"Demo," Kaoru's voice whispered in his ear, sweet and patient still, "you didn't.  You came for me."

Her simple statement of fact brought him up short, as if he'd forgotten the truth in the midst of his self-recrimination.  "Tsubame-dono . . . Yahiko . . ."

She smiled, her lips brushing lightly against his throat, the cross-scar.  "You had to help, ne?"

Hearing the mix of affection and pride in her voice compelled him to protest -- there was no reason for pride, and every reason for her to be angry.  "Shikashi . . . I left you with him--"

"Did you know I was alive?  Did you know where I was?"  Her hand slipped to his chin to tilt his face up to hers, "Did you come for me when you could?"  He turned away, refusing to accept her compassion until he found some way to forgive himself.  Exasperated, she shook him a little.  "Kenshin, do you expect me to be angry with you because you cared enough to be hurt?  Because you grieved for me?"  It was both heady and frightening to realize she was so loved, so much the focus of his world.  At the same time, there was a rightness to it, a balance.  I was just as lost without him . . .

Just as lost.

Perhaps it was all he needed to know.  Whispering the truth, she covered his mouth with her palm when he drew breath to protest.  "Everything stopped when you left me to fight Shishio -- everything."  Now it was her turn to breathe through a painfully tight throat, to half-choke on remembered loneliness.  "All I did was cry.  All I knew was that you were gone."  Closing her eyes she pressed her cheek to his, her lips brushing his ear as she repeated, "I would have done the same."

The soft-voiced confession took the sting out of Kenshin's guilt, leaving him at a loss, unable to protest in her what he found unacceptable in himself.  Against his will he found himself smiling when she asked, child-voiced, if he was angry with her.  "Koishii . . ." he murmured, half-chiding, half-smitten.

It was the first time he'd relaxed enough to use the endearment.  Bowing her head to hide the glow in her eyes, Kaoru pressed a soft kiss near his Adam's apple.  "So how can you be angry with yourself?"

"It isn't the same."  He rested his chin on the crown of her head, his palm curving warmly at her nape, holding her to him as she nuzzled the hollow of his throat.  "Enishi came for you because of me, because of hitokiri Battousai.  You would have been safe if it weren't for me."  His voice fell until it was scarcely more than a low rumble.  "I should have protected you."

Kaoru exhaled in mild exasperation.  Two steps forward, and three steps back.  "Protect me from what?  Enishi didn't hurt me.  The worst thing he did was make insulting remarks about my cooking."  Leaning away a space she looked up at him through her lashes, pouting slightly.  "Sanosuke does that all the time.  If you want to protect me from something, make him stop!"

Laughing despite himself, he let her coax him away from the shadows that haunted his soul.  "Kaoru, sessha doesn't deserve . . ."

"You do," she interrupted softly, "you do deserve to be happy, to make me happy."  Smiling up at his dear, still-regretful face, she was reminded of her earlier compulsion to kiss away his pain.  He's been lost and alone for so much of his life . . .

His hand slid through her hair, his palm cradling her cheekbone as he watched her with shadowed violet eyes, already worried about her lapse into silence.  "Koishii?"

I won't let him be lonely again.  "Daijoubu."  Leaning close she pressed a kiss on his chin, another on the tip of his nose, and felt him smile as she dropped a third on his cheek.  Teasing him, she brushed her lips across his eyelids, protesting softly when he tilted his head, seeking something more.  "Iie . . . I'm not finished."

Wanting but curious, he subsided.  "Finished?"

"Kissing things to make them better."  Her blue eyes gleamed with mischief as she snuggled her head into the curve of his neck and shoulder, skimming a scrape on his throat with a feather light touch.  "It's going to take awhile."

Shivering as her tongue teased his ear, reminding him all at once of soft curves and muted whispers, the caress of skin on skin, Kenshin made a sound somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.  "I don't remember it hurting there," he managed, swallowing as her breathy, near-soundless amusement stroked his collarbone in answer.  Moist and sweet her mouth returned to his, lips parted in persuasive invitation.  Starved for her both body and soul, he took what she offered, a need that had been banked and waiting gradually filling his senses.  Mewling longingly as his tongue teased hers, Kaoru twisted her hips against him, the motion unconsciously wanton and arousing.  Kenshin's stomach knotted in reaction, responding even as tired, over-exerted muscles protested the thought.  Reluctantly he pulled away, murmuring a regretful protest as she followed, arms warm around his neck.  "Kaoru, now isn't --"

"Shhh . . ." silencing his half-voiced reluctance with butterfly kisses, she slid one small hand inside his yukata to rest over his heart.  "Onegai," she urged, feeling how its strong beat kept pace with her own, wanting to reassure his nameless, voiceless worries with the certainty of touch.  "Let me . . ."

Her hushed entreaty set his body to aching in earnest with its implied promise, the yearning in her voice intensifying his own.  Reason cautioned that it would be better to wait, at least until his arm was no longer bound in a sling; amber-eyed and hungry, another voice argued in favor of then and now.  As he hesitated, wavering, her hand smoothed up his chest to his shoulder, pushing the well-worn fabric aside.  Stroking her mouth over the hard muscle of his upper arm, her teeth an erotic rasp against his skin, she divested him of any presence of mind to resist.  When Kaoru freed his other shoulder from the robe's warmth, Kenshin reached to untie the sling.

"Iie," she whispered, entangling his fingers with her own before they'd found the first knot, "Megumi-san said you could pull your stitches if you take it off."  Turning his hand palm up she placed a kiss in the center, delighting at the catch in his breath.  "She made me promise you'd leave it alone."  Letting his fingers fall to her lap she pressed close, rising up onto her knees to slide her hands over his shoulders and down his back, sending his yukata puddling around his waist.

Closing his eyes as the gentle swell of her breasts caressed his chest, the back of his hand, Kenshin nuzzled her throat, his voice a husky murmur in her ear.  "Koishii, this is going to be difficult--" his cajoling protest was silenced with another of her persuasively insistent kisses, the words reduced to no more than an ardent rumble in his throat.  Pulling his unfettered arm from the loose tumble of his sleeve he leaned into her, his hand reaching to cradle her nape as his tongue swept between her lips.

"Dame!"  Breathless with commingled laughter and longing, Kaoru broke away when she felt his warm touch slip from her neck to work at the knots on the sling again.  "I promised Megumi-san you'd behave . . ."

"Sessha is behaving," he murmured, something deep inside him stirred by her mirth as much as her touch.  Rubbing his nose against hers affectionately he tried for rurouni innocence, "I intend to be very, very good."

Giggling, she brushed his fingers away from the knots that were proving such a temptation.  "Gomen, Kenshin, but I don't think I could explain to Megumi-san what we were doing if . . . well . . ."  Blushing, she pushed carefully against the wall of his chest, coaxing him to drop slowly backwards, taking her with him.  "We'll just have to make do."

Biting back a moan as her softness settled against the evidence of his arousal, Kenshin ground his teeth in frustration, her name emerging as a heated plea.  It was the most natural response in the world to reach for her, to teach her the beguiling rhythm that thrummed through his body, to cup her bottom as he arched upwards into her curves . . . and strangely painful to be unable to do so.  The ache only increased as her lips moved lightly over his throat, her voice trembling sweetly in his ear, "Let me love you . . . this once, this time . . . onegai . . ."

At her whispered offer the heat pooling at the base of his spine spread outward to engulf his entire form, leaving him shivering with grateful anticipation and controlled desire.  Shifting slightly he caught a handful of her hair in a loose clasp, compelling her to look at him, reading mute yearning and heartfelt emotion in her clear blue gaze.  "I want to," she confirmed, closing the scant space between them to breathe the words against his lips, "please."  The hand in her hair tightened, giving his answer as his mouth took possession of hers.

Kaoru tasted relief and welcome, passion and stern restraint in his kiss: her rurouni would allow himself to be led, but only so far.  Determined to give him the same sheltered loss of self he'd shown her before, she touched his cheek lightly, persuading him away from her mouth, tugging at his bottom lip with careful suction before moving away.  Remembering how he'd touched her, fanning the fire in her senses to brighter flame, she showered open-mouthed kisses down his throat and along his collarbone, painting the hollows with her tongue.  Bandages covered most of his chest, delineating but not exposing the skin beneath, and for a moment she paused to pout down at him.

"Douka shita no?"  Fingers still playing tenderly in her hair, Kenshin watched her from beneath drowsy eyelids, his expression covetous and sensual.

She flushed, bowing her head as she traced a delicate line down the center of his chest.  "I'm jealous of Megumi-san . . . she got to see this," she spread her hands over his ribcage, her touch light to avoid aggravating the cuts hidden under the bandages, "when it wasn't covered up."

The petulant reply startled a laugh out of him, a deep chuckle she could feel beneath her fingertips.  "Koishii . . ." the word was both endearment and description.

"I know," she mumbled, still pouting.  Bending closer she resumed her exploration, skimming over the white linen wrappings, touching more fully where warm skin was exposed.  Taking her cue from the way his breathing changed and his heartbeat accelerated, she nuzzled his chest, teasing his nipples into pebbles with her tongue.  Shifting restlessly beneath her, wordless sounds of pleasure falling from his lips, he found and loosened the neckline of her yukata, his palm caressing her back in silent encouragement as she ventured further.  Nestling her face in the hollow of his stomach, her diffused breath teasing him through the layered bandages, her careful fingers crept between the folds of his robe and glided upward along his thigh, nudging the fabric aside as they went.

Unable to see her face, Kenshin fixed on the spill of her hair across his stomach and chest, striving to read her reactions in the patterns she traced against his skin.  Cool and maddeningly insubstantial, her touch drifted over that part of him which ached for her, his body leaping in reaction.  Nervous, she withdrew when he moaned at that first, questing brush of her hand.

"Don't," his voice was dark and smoky -- the Battousai's hunger twined with the rurouni's regard.  "Don't stop . . . onegaisuru."  As she raised her head to see his expression, he took her hand and kissed each finger in turn, suckling briefly at the tips to feel her tremble in response.  Violet eyes held blue as he guided her back to his shaft, curving his fingers around hers to show her where and how to touch, "Onegaisuru." 

Shy under his heated stare, Kaoru dropped her gaze, cradling his length in her palm as she stroked delicately.  "Sou . . . ?"  Satin-smooth beneath her caress, his hardness seemed to throb in answer.

"Aa . . ." part encouragement, part sigh, his eyes fell closed as the husky utterance escaped him, his hips rocking against her careful clasp.  Pushing her hair away from the slim column of her throat, exposing the rosy curve of her cheek, his hand found purchase in the fabric of her robe, clinging there as she bent to nuzzle his stomach again.

Reassured by the desire in his voice and the clenching of muscles beneath her lips, she tugged at the sash of his yukata, wanting to see as well as feel.  The scrap of fabric came away easily, the loose knot having worked free with Kenshin's restless movement, and his robe fell open with the next yearning thrust of his hips.  Silently appreciative, her curious eyes ran lovingly -- possessively -- over what had been hidden only a moment before, with neither clothing nor bandages to impede her view.  He was as beautiful as she remembered, his masculinity even more impressive -- more enticing.  Kneeling between his legs, she spread her hand flat against the taut surface of his abdomen, leaning close to dip her tongue into his navel.

Kenshin groaned as dark silk slid forward over her shoulder to tease his length with a whisper-light touch, the wet warmth of her tongue an erotic counterpoint to the innocent caress of her hair.  With every gliding brush of her hand, every open-mouthed kiss, pleasure slowly suffused his entire form.  Determined not to rush her, to let her lead at her own pace, he resisted his body's urge to take control, struggling to relax as she dispelled remembered pain with poignant delight.  Her breath against his skin made him tremble with only half-understood anticipation, his thoughts hazed by pleasure and the lingering effects of Megumi's sedative.  The hand cupping her nape unwittingly coaxed, offering encouragement -- all the incentive she needed.  As she took him in her mouth he gave a strangled shout, gasping her name in startled ecstasy.

Ignoring his protest, smiling as it faded, Kaoru stroked him softly with her tongue, tasting something indefinably Kenshin mingled with the ginger that filled her senses whenever he was near.  Loving him freely, intent on his responses, his enjoyment, she was surprised at how they sparked her own.  His clever lips and tongue and hands had already taught her body to yearn for his; now the low sounds escaping his throat, and the almost reflexive movement of his hips stirred that longing to life.

"Too much, Kaoru, it's too much . . ." breathless and almost incoherent, he murmured the words even as he arched into her mouth, unable to resist the temptation when she was so near, so willing.  Love and instinct had served her too well, his response more intense than even the most talented courtesan could have won.  Hovering on the precipice, nearing the limits of his control, he clung to the certainty that she was not ready, that he could not take what she was offering and leave her uncertain and unsatisfied.  "Yamero," he gasped, his hand finding the curve of her jaw and urging her away, "yamero!"

Releasing him, she raised confused eyes to his face, searching for some sign, some explanation.  "Kenshin?"

He shook his head to reassure her, his voice ragged when he spoke, "Not without you."  Calloused fingers traced her neckline and caught on her sash, reached around her to untie the knot.  "Together . . ." as the garment fell open his hand slipped inside, touching a peaked nipple, the curve of her belly, seeking further to find the moist welcome at the apex of her thighs.  His eyes were amber slits, his tone dark and achingly hungry, "I want to feel you around me."

Affected as much by his words as by the brush of his fingers, she closed her eyes, whimpering when his knowing touch found the tiny bud that pulsed and cried for him.  "Da . . .tte . . ."

". . . inside you, filling you . . ." his fingertips probed gently, making her moan, "please, koishii . . ."

Shivering in response, wanting almost as fiercely as he, she whispered assent.  Blindly seeking she reached for him, his palm urging her closer with a light pressure at the base of her spine.  Pausing to kiss the fingers of the hand he held fisted upon his chest, she moved to straddle his hips, the hard length of him nestling against her answering softness.  "Kenshin?"  his name was part question, part plea, all wanton innocence.

"Aa," twining his fingers with hers, he helped guide his manhood to her entrance.  A single fluid thrust brought him home, her sigh echoing his hoarse groan.  Leaning forward, her breasts brushing lightly against his chest, her hands braced on either side of his head, she sought his mouth, wanting to be joined to him in as many ways as possible.  "Slowly," he murmured against her lips as she began to move, "don't rush."  Already too close to the edge, he would leave her wanting if they went too fast.  She needed time to reach the pinnacle with him.

Retreating just far enough to watch his face, Kaoru rocked her hips against his, closing her eyes when he stretched upwards to nuzzle her throat.  Blissful, she bent to press open-mouthed kisses to his shoulder and collarbone, moving faster as his hand returned to her waist.

Awash in heat and desire, his thoughts scattering with each silken stroke, Kenshin strove desperately to control his response.  Wait for her, wait.  It was a mantra, a litany running through his mind in time to the motion of his hips.  An impossible struggle, a heartfelt demand.  Wait.  Words tumbled from his lips, vague and disjointed pleas for more, for less, to stop, to never let it end.  He threw his head back, the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief as he fought the climax building within him, the hand bound to his chest curling in a white-knuckled fist.  Wait.  Welcome prisoner in a world comprised of nothing but motion and sound, his body thrust against hers, murmured encouragement issuing through his clenched teeth.

Breathless, delighting in the feel of him moving within her, Kaoru opened languorous eyes to focus on his strained features.  Worried, she slowed as his hand tightened on her hip, his clasp hard enough to leave a faint bruise; and whispered his name, unsure of his response, of what he wanted, of what she should do.

" No! "  his protest was almost an anguished shout, her change of pace the last test of his restraint, sending him over the edge against his will.  Arching beneath her he shuddered violently, flooding her with warmth.

Confused, Kaoru whimpered at the sudden rush inside, the sensation not unpleasant but not what she'd been seeking, not what she needed.  As he relaxed, his breathing labored and heartbeat racing beneath her hand, she sank awkwardly against his chest, cuddling close for comfort, hiding her face in the fall of her hair.

Conscious thought filtered back to Kenshin like light through rice paper panels, his first distinct sensation the way Kaoru's slim form trembled against his, her uncertainty and lingering want easy to read.  Remorse stung sharply, dispelling the languor which so easily turned both limbs and tongue to lead.  "I'm sorry," hushed and filled with emotion, he whispered the apology into her hair, his free hand rubbing comfortingly over her back.  "I'm sorry . . ."

She was silent for a heartbreaking moment, her voice choked and hesitant when words finally came.  "Did . . . did I do something wrong?"

Closing his eyes he held her tighter still, his lips brushing lightly against her ear.  "Oh, Kaoru, of course not -- you couldn't ." His voice was a mere breath of sound, the words tangling in his throat.  What she had given him was beautiful -- exquisite -- a brief, precious moment of pure joy.  He told her so, fumbling a little with the sentiment, almost desperate to reassure her.

Mouth curving in a shy smile at his flattery, blushing pink under the sincerity in his gaze, she mumbled a faint protest -- a doubtful observation: "You . . . your expression . . . you didn't look . . ."  Nervous fingers toyed with the bright red hair draped loosely over his shoulder, wondering how to tell him he'd looked more like a man tormented than a man overcome by rapture.  "Kenshin--"

Smiling ruefully, he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.  "I wanted to wait for you."  His voice dropped to a murmur, his lips brushing her ear, "I didn't want to leave you behind, to leave you yearning."

"Datte . . ." shivering at the caress of warm breath on sensitive skin, Kaoru struggled to focus on his breathtakingly sweet reply, to tease him for taking a supremely masculine stance.  Having painstakingly loved her past the point of return, until he was the only certainty she could cling to . . . he should be willing to accept the same.

Violet eyes glowed with lambent fire as he felt her stifled response, an almost selfish desire to provoke her release blossoming within him.  "Iya," responding as if she'd managed more than that single word, he bit carefully at the smooth skin of her shoulder, building her longing the better to soothe it.  "It isn't the same."

She drew a gasping breath as his thumb found and caressed one tender nipple, gave an unexpected laugh as her sluggish faculties made sense of his response.  "Dou-shite?"  Her voice faltered as Kenshin pressed a kiss between her breasts, coaxing enough distance to take the aching peak in his mouth, suckling gently.  Moaning, she tangled eager hands in the scarlet wealth of his hair, trembling as masculine amusement played moist heat against her aroused flesh. Nimble fingers sought and found the tangle of nerves hidden between her legs, slipped inside as she arched into his stroking touch, whimpering his name. So close already, her body tightened almost instantly, shaking with unbearable pleasure.

He whispered to her, husky-voiced, as she quieted, curling bonelessly against him. "Watching you, hearing the way you say my name, feeling your body cling so desperately to mine... it's heady and overwhelming, and more arousing than anything I've ever known." Nuzzling a kiss against her temple, he wrapped his free arm more tightly around her, sinking slowly into the languor that was striving so hard to claim him. "To touch you, knowing I can make you lose yourself in the yearning... it isn't the same as losing myself."

That was something she could understand, having experienced firsthand how powerfully erotic it could be to pleasure him. Still, she suspected his insistence stemmed more from his ever-present desire to put her needs and wants before his own, than from anything else. Stifling a yawn she nestled her head in the hollow of his shoulder, smiling at the opportunities she'd have to teach him the error of his ways. Kenshin no baka, she thought without venom as she drifted off to sleep, drowsily content in the shelter of his arm. Who are you trying to protect?

---

Index of Japanese terms:

1. daijoubu -- it's all right
2. dame -- don't
3. datte -- but
4. douka shita no? -- what's the matter?
5. doushite -- why
6. iya -- no
7. koishii -- beloved, darling
8. okaerinasai -- welcome home
9. onegai -- please
10. onegaisuru -- masculine (Battousai) form of onegai
11. sessha -- this unworthy one; I, Kenshin style
12. sessha mo -- me, too
13. sou -- like that
14. sumanu -- I'm sorry
15. tadaima -- I'm home
16. yamero - stop! (masculine command)

Author's notes and random babbling:

1. The title of this story is also the title of Kenshin's spaghetti-western theme music.  It translates to: Who are you protecting?
2. Once it was over, and it was apparent that Watsuki-sensei wasn't going to torture our rurouni forever, I rejoiced that Kenshin's reaction to Kaoru's "death" was far more extreme than his reaction to Tomoe's -- I took it as (yet another) indication that what he feels for Kaoru is much deeper, stronger, and more abiding than whatever he felt for Tomoe.  On the other hand, since K&K didn't get a touching reunion scene, much of the impact was lost.  I was extremely disappointed at the complete and utter lack of WAFF there at the end.  So, as promised, this was my attempt at correcting that little oversight.
3. The scent of honey: while looking for information on how the Japanese treated infected wounds in the Meiji Era - or verification as to how Americans did, for that matter -- I stumbled across an interesting page detailing the uses of honey.  Suffice it to say that honey is a natural microbial substance.  Good for smearing on wounds.  It tastes good, too.  Are you getting the impression that if I'd been feeling a little braver or a little naughtier, more might have happened?
4. There are parallels between this story and Heart's Ease, which I suppose is only fitting, given that this was intended as a sequel of sorts (they take place in the same timeline, with Heart's Ease covering their last private moment together).  Kaoru comforts Kenshin in much the same way he did her; I like the symmetry of that.
5. Thanks to Naga, Joy, and Serizawa Kamo for help categorizing Kenshin's wounds; and for offering an explanation as to why he would need the sling.
6. Thanks to Pan for mentioning to my alter-ego -- months and months and months ago (so long ago that she doesn't remember even having the notion!) -- the similarity between Kenshin's reaction to Enishi's jinchuu, and Kaoru's reaction to Kenshin's departure.  As I was writing this, it occurred to me that perhaps Kaoru's recognition of that similarity would be the perfect way for her to comfort him for a lapse he can hardly help but consider a failure.
7. Thanks to all the members of KFFDisc who answered my questions on K&K's bedroom technique.  (^_~) It was interesting to see what people agreed on and what they did not.
8. Special thanks to Jenny and Luriko-Ysabeth for reminding me -- and for encouraging me -- to write what I want to write, and not to worry so much about the aftermath.  As a result, this story is the way I originally envisioned it, despite many of the responses I received in answer to my KFFDisc questions.
9. On the subject of Kenshin's stamina . . . yes, the man is nearly unstoppable in a fight.  Yes, the man is incredibly hard-headed and stubborn.  However . . . in this instance the man is *also* recovering from a failure to eat for the better part of three weeks; from leaning against a wall in the slums where at least some of his wounds no doubt became infected; and from not one but two of the most difficult fights of his life.  If that's not enough, he's also slightly off-center thanks to Megumi's sedative, emotionally drained, and Kaoru has just finished testing his endurance in one of the most pleasurable ways a man can imagine.  Please consider all of that before flaming me for what happened in this story.  I certainly did before writing it.
10. I hate writing endings.  Stories seem to just peter out beneath my fingers.  This one was particularly problematic.  Gomen nasai.
11. Ten is a nice number, but I've still got one more note: Thanks to all my pre-readers -- Ashfae, Jan, Jill, Kathy, Lirillith, Nicole, Risu-chan, Sae, Sakka-chan, Serizawa-san, and Tatsuko (I was nervous about this fic, can you tell?) -- for answering a seemingly endless spate of inane questions, and for helping me knock this into some semblance of order.

Komagata Yumi
yumi@sekihara.dreamhost.com
March 3, 2000
Revised August 18, 2000