Kaoru awoke with a moan, the dream vanishing like mist, leaving her breathing heavily in a tangle of sheets. She turned the moan into a muted scream of frustration, curling into a lonely ball in the center of the futon.
Kenshin had been gone a week, and although she had expected to miss him, she hadn't expected it to be this bad, hadn't expected to feel so . . . lost. Bereft, as when he'd left for Kyoto so many months ago. This time she was sure of his feelings, knew he would be back -- knew that he was missing her, too . . . but the knowledge was of little help. She ached for him. For the smile which always greeted her in the morning, and for the gentle voice which wished her good night. For his company, and for his helpful, protective presence. Reflexively, countless times throughout the day, she turned to share some thought or observation only to remember that she couldn't . . . and sometimes that inability hurt so fiercely she wanted to cry. Now even her dreams were filled with yearning; memories of the way he touched her, held her, loved her, creating a longing which didn't seem quite proper once she awoke.
"Koishigaru," she whispered, running her hand over the empty space next to her, "koishigaru."
"Kaoru-san?" It was Misao's voice, sounding concerned even though hushed. Kaoru blushed slightly, realizing the younger girl must have been awakened by her restless cries.
"It's all right," she called out, sitting up, "come in, Misao-chan."
The door slid open just far enough to admit the ninja girl's slender form, then rasped quietly shut again. "I heard you scream," she whispered, walking over to kneel on the less rumpled side of the double futon, "and you were tossing and turning for a long time. Bad dreams?"
Kaoru gave a little laugh, shaking her head slightly. The dreams weren't bad -- quite the opposite, really -- they just left her feeling even more frustrated and lonely than before. "I miss Kenshin," she offered in response to Misao's confused look.
The ninja girl smiled knowingly. "I'd have trouble sleeping alone, too, if I'd spent the last several months snuggled next to Aoshi-sama."
"Misao-chan!" Feeling her face heat with embarrassment at the younger girl's accuracy, Kaoru was grateful that the room was dark.
"Nani?" came the innocent response as Misao stretched out on her stomach, resting her chin in her hands, "I think it must be heavenly, sleeping in your loved one's arms, safe and warm and cherished." She sighed dreamily, shifting to pillow her head on her folded arms, "Simply heavenly." Aoshi-sama . . .
"Mmmm," Kaoru agreed softly, "but it's lonely without him." Totemo sabishii. Her mouth curved in a smile that was both affectionate and envious as she focused again on the younger girl's contented expression. It's so much easier to be contented with imaginings, when you haven't experienced the reality for which you long. The dream came back to her whenever she closed her eyes, memories of the way his hands felt against her skin teasing her senses, making her shiver, her body aching sweetly.
Stirred from her drowsy reverie by Kaoru's disconsolate sigh, Misao shifted to look at her friend. The older girl's expression was sad and tired and somehow lost, her blue eyes filled with a vague sort of hunger. For all her inexperience, Misao recognized that look. It was reflected in her own eyes whenever she was with Aoshi, it shattered her contentment each time he turned away: the yearning for the other half of her soul. "Kaoru-san?" she asked hesitantly, wishing for words to comfort the all-too-familiar ache.
"Daijoubu," Kaoru murmured, "I know he'll be home soon . . . demo, we haven't been apart since Enishi." Smoothing the covers over her lap, her fingers began idly folding and unfolding the edge of the blanket. "Maybe we're closer than we should be . . . maybe I need him too much." Her head was bowed, her voice soft, her eyes fixed on the motion of her hands. "I didn't realize I was so dependent on him. I didn't realize how often I turn to him, how often I look for him." She gathered the covers closer to her, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "I didn't know that sleep would be restless without him, or that I'd miss-" she broke off, a rosy flush staining her cheeks. "But it is, and I do . . . and worrying about him just makes it worse, but I can't seem to stop that either." Her hands clenched into anxious fists, crumpling the covers. "He's so compassionate, Misao-chan -- too compassionate." How can I know it's not getting him into trouble? How can I know?
Misao couldn't deny that Himura's soft heart might involve him in something dangerous, something even he couldn't handle. Demo . . . "Himura would never do anything to upset you," she offered reassuringly, "and he must want to be home as much as you want him here." Not like Aoshi-sama, who's probably grateful I'm not around, if he's even noticed that I'm gone.
Kaoru sighed, releasing her hold on the covers and smoothing them flat once more. "I know . . . and his compassion is one of the things I love about him. But . . ." she shrugged, and Misao finished the sentence for her:
"It doesn't stop the worrying."
"Mm." Kaoru's smile was sheepish, slightly rueful. Although she returned it, a touch of jealousy lingered in Misao's thoughts as the room lapsed back into silence.
Worry or no, Kaoru had the certainty of her husband's love, and her loneliness was only temporary. All I have are dreams, which I've begun to think will never come true. Maybe she had made the wrong choice -- maybe Aoshi wasn't the right lifemate, despite what her heart whispered. Maybe he was right for her, but she was wrong for him.
"Misao-chan? Douka shita no?" She blinked, the gentle concern in Kaoru's voice sifting through her thoughts, making her aware of the slow tears slipping down her face.
"Gomen!" she gasped, wiping at the moisture, staring at her damp fingers in surprise, "Gomen nasai, Kaoru-san! I don't -- I wasn't -- I'm not . . ." she faltered, the words dying as her throat constricted, cutting off her false protest before it began. She felt Kaoru's arms close around her, comforting her as she had once before.
"Iie." Kaoru's whisper was filled with guilt and self-reproach. "I shouldn't have complained to you, shouldn't have made my problems yours." She dabbed at the younger girl's tears with a corner of the sheet. "I'm the one that should be sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad -- didn't mean to remind you of anything painful."
"You didn't." Misao's face twisted, disgusted at the tear-choked sound of her voice, "It's just . . ."
"Shhh . . . I know. Aoshi-san, ne?" A small nod, a muffled sniff. Kaoru sighed. First Kenshin, now Aoshi-san -- why is it so very difficult to convince them that they're alive? That they deserve to be happy? "It'll be all right, Misao-chan," she whispered consolingly, having been there before, "It'll be all right."
Misao nodded again, her attitude still forlorn. "Kaoru-san? When . . . how . . . how did you know? That you . . . that Himura . . .?"
"That I loved him?" Kaoru's voice held a hint of laughter. "When he rescued me -- for the second time -- from Hiruma Gohei. He apologized for the trouble, and then he turned to leave. Without a second thought. He was going to just . . . leave."
"Nani?" Misao breathed, her eyes wide with surprise, the idea of Kenshin and Kaoru together so ingrained that it was hard to imagine them any other way. Himura had been alone when she met him, but not inside -- not in his heart, not in his mind, or in any way that mattered. "What did you do?"
"I panicked. I didn't know why, but I knew I had to stop him. My heart started galloping, and I yelled the first thing I could think of."
"What? What did you say?"
Kaoru met the ninja girl's questioning gaze with a wryly humorous one. "BAKA!"
Misao blinked, choked, and began giggling uncontrollably. The response was so unexpected, and yet so very Kaoru. "I guess it worked?" she gasped when she was able.
"Surprised him long enough for me to think of a better argument as to why he should stay, anyway." Her mischievous expression faded. "He stayed until Shishio sent Soujirou here. When he left . . . that's when I really knew I was in love. It hurt too much to be anything else."
"I was still a little girl when Aoshi-sama left Kyoto," Misao whispered. "But I knew -- I knew." I just wish I knew if he felt -- if he'll ever feel -- the same. She gave herself a mental shake, unwilling to sink back into depression. "And Himura?"
Kaoru's smile was soft. "He told me he loved me the night before Enishi attacked the dojo." Wrapping her arms around her updrawn legs, she brought her chin to rest on her knees. "I was crying -- feeling sorry for myself -- and he found me." She hugged herself a little tighter. "It took a lot of effort on his part to find out why, and when he did he was shocked, disbelieving."
"Naze?" Misao felt almost as if she were holding her breath, somehow knowing that the reason would prove important to her.
"I didn't think he loved me. I didn't think he could, or that he ever would." The older girl's eyes were clear, if slightly sad. "I'm nothing like Tomoe. I thought that if he had loved her, then he couldn't possibly feel the same for me. When he talked about her . . . it sounded like she was perfect. The ideal woman, the ideal wife." Kaoru shrugged slightly. "How does one compete with perfection? I couldn't be what he wanted, if what he wanted was someone like Tomoe . . . and I knew it, and it hurt."
Misao felt her eyes tearing with sympathy. "Demo . . . Himura . . ." The way Kaoru described the situation, it was easy to see how she could doubt Kenshin's feelings; but anyone who observed the two of them together could have told her she was wrong.
"Ee." Kaoru agreed, blushing faintly with embarrassment. "I was so very wrong . . . Kenshin told me he loved me, and tried to explain why, and how it was different from what he had with Tomoe." Reaching out, she caught Misao's hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "And then he told me that he hadn't said anything because he didn't think he was worthy of me." She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of that. "He made me miserable, because he didn't think he deserved to be happy -- that he didn't deserve to be the one who made me happy." She gave Misao's hand another squeeze. "Does that sound like anyone you know?"
"Aoshi-sama," Misao murmured in answer, nodding before Kaoru had finished the question. "Since he returned to the oniwabanshuu, he's been punishing himself. Keeping himself separate -- as if he's tarnished, and doesn't want it to rub off on the rest of us." Her hands fisted on her knees, her eyes sparkling angrily as she exclaimed vehemently, "But who he is and what he's done are two different things! I don't love him for what he's done. If anything, I love him despite what he's done!"
"Daijoubu, daijoubu!" Kaoru laughed, raising her hands defensively, "You don't have to convince me, Misao-chan. People don't love each other because of what they've done. Or at least we shouldn't. We love each other for lots of little reasons -- the little things that make us who we are, and for sentimental reasons that make no sense to anyone else." Grinning suddenly, she leaned close to whisper conspiratorially, "You know, I think the way Kenshin says 'oro' whenever he's surprised is the most endearing habit he has. I don't know why, I just do. I'd miss it if he stopped. I wander around the house expecting him to say it at any moment. Now, tell me that isn't daft."
Laughing, Misao met Kaoru's confession with one of her own, "I get the giggles every time I look at the ties on Aoshi-sama's oniwabanshuu uniform. I don't know why they're so long, or why he doesn't cut them . . . but I'll be disappointed if he ever does."
Remembering the ties in question, Kaoru laughed as well. "There, you see?"
Misao giggled again, her laughter fading into a yawn as the unhappy tension drained from her slight form. "Arigatou, Kaoru-san. I think maybe it's too early to give up on Aoshi-sama." If only I can convince him of that. She yawned again. "It's also apparently a little too late for me to be up talking." She grinned as Kaoru yawned as well. "And too late for you, too. Do you think you can get back to sleep?"
"I'm certainly tired." She sighed wistfully. "I'm sorry I woke you earlier."
"Don't be," Misao shook her head, "I think I needed to talk."
Kaoru smiled her understanding as the younger girl rose to her feet. "Oyasumi, Misao-chan."
"Oyasumi, Kaoru-san."
When Misao had gone, Kaoru snuggled back under the covers, turning on her side to face the empty space next to her. As her eyes drifted closed she imagined a pair of strong arms cuddling her close, a warm voice whispering in her ear, living strands of flame-red silk tangled between her fingers. She smiled as she settled into the gentle dream, her lips forming near soundless words.
"Aishiteru, Kenshin." For sentimental reasons.
Index of Japanese terms:
- koishigaru -- to miss or yearn for; I miss you, I yearn for you
- totemo sabishii -- very lonely
- daijoubu -- it's all right
- demo -- but
- hai -- yes
- douka shita no? -- what's wrong?
- gomen, gomen nasai -- I'm sorry
- iie -- no
- baka -- idiot
- naze -- why
- ee -- yes
- arigatou -- thank you
- oyasumi -- good night
- aishiteru -- I love you
Komagata Yumi
yumi@sekihara.dreamhost.com
June 16, 1999