Subject: [FFML] [C&C][fanfic][Rurouni Kenshin] The Cat That Danced With Death
From: "Ragun P. Moody" <Kichigai@tds.net>
Date: 9/30/2001, 4:10 PM
To: "FFML" <ffml@anifics.com>, "DB Sommer" <sommer@3rdm.net>



This took me longer to finish that I thought. No prereaders this time,
so
there should be plenty more mistakes to correct.

	$Oh, good.  Something for me to actually do while I read.


The Cat That Danced With Death

	$Which has nothing to do with the Bush song, Disease of the Dancing
Cats.

	Unfortunately.

A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic
by D.B. Sommer

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

His wife was beautiful.

However, as with all women past the age of forty, she did not feel that
way.
Earlier, when her mood had been foul, she had told him as much, pointing
out
her perceived flaws in excruciating detail. Her dark hair, bound in a
bun on
top of her head, was now shot with streaks of gray that were increasing
their numbers of late. Her face held lines of time that, even with
generous
amounts of make-up, were difficult to hide.

	$Although, the caked on makeup did horrible things to her complexion.
He occasionally joked that she couldn't be very old if she was still
suffering from acne.

 The somewhat demure figure of
her youth had long ago given way to a more voluptuous maturity that even
she
had never guessed was coming. Over the years, bearing two children added
to
that. Despite the fact she still taught that art, her body continued to
slowly relinquish ground to the effects of the relentless twin banes of
humanity: age and gravity. Both had extracted their price.

	$In other words, you had to look at her waist to see her breasts.

 In all, her form
showed the toll of leading an active life; such changes were an
inevitability.

And to him, they didn't matter in the slightest. Twenty years of
marriage,
and he still genuflected in her presence. Perhaps she took his
attentions
for granted, or possibly she did not notice them at all -she could be
painfully blind sometimes-

	$Shouldn't that be set apart with commas instead?

 but he was still enamored with her. She held his
rapt attention in a way that only one other in his entire life had
managed,
and what feelings he had for Tomoe had been different, though no less
real.
They didn't matter now. Those sentiments for one long dead were in the
past,
locked away with the seemingly endless days of death and filling the air
with a red rain delivered by his sword.

But now the years had been generous to him. In the beginning it was his
wife, and then his children, who became the center of his existence for
more
than two decades. Other men, like Sano and Yahiko might have eyes (and
only
their eyes) that strayed from their spouses, but he did not. No other
women
existed as far as he was concerned.

	$He denies reality to the point even Kuno would be proud.

 Perhaps he should tell her that,
reassuring her and hopefully restoring some measure of her pride in her
appearance.

She had been a major part of his salvation; of that there was never any
doubt. Before meeting her it took everything he had to force himself
awake
each day, forsaking an existence solely in the slumber of dreams which
gave
him no consolation, but were at least fantasies. The reality of those
days
was worse than any nightmare dredged up by his subconscious. Every dawn
was
tainted by anticipation and dread the size of a mountain, always
loathing
how many he would have to kill before the day expired. But after first
meeting and subsequently getting to know the woman who would become his
wife, the fears disappeared. He looked forward to waking up, wondering
what
new experiences would bring him joy, especially with such an
affectionate
and caring woman.

He took a deep breath, and drank deeply in her scent; one that carried a

	$breath and

hint of jasmine and innocence. It always drowned out the metallic tang
of
blood that remained buried beneath his skin, still rising to the surface
and
plaguing him when his mood was foul. She was as responsible for rescuing
him
from his past as he was for finding he resolve to drag himself out and
abandoning it, forging a new life to make his ow-

A hand pinched his cheek. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying,
Kenshin."

"Oww!" Kenshin Himura hissed as he accepted Kaoru's admonishment. It
seemed
he had been too deeply lost in his thoughts for his own good.

	$A condition common to most men.

She released his cheek and folded her arms under her ample bosom.
"Sometimes
I wonder why I even bother bringing you shopping."

Adjusting the packages he carried, he freed up a hand and placed it
behind
his head. "Because I need to do something to pay for my way since I'm
still
freeloading from you even after all this time?"

	$He never bothered to get a job?  Odd.

He could tell she tried to fight it -she wanted to keep being angry with
him- but the snort of laughter burst through resisting lips. Once the
first
made it out, she surrendered and laughed, yielding to the mood he was
trying
to set. Twenty years of marriage had taught him much, including how to
cheer
her up, though he still doubted he understood half the things about his
wife. Swordsmanship was easy compared to dealing with the opposite sex.

Kenshin shifted the packages again so that they were held in front of
him
with both hands. Shopping in the market was an effort the required a
fair
amount of skill. It was always crowded during this time of day, and of
late
they restricted their shopping to once a week, which meant twice as many
packages as most men could manage.

	$Are they buying that much every time?  I think you should mention that
this trip was special, then explain why later, as you already did.

 But one of the advantages of being
trained in the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was an almost inhuman sense of
balance,
and that extended to carrying bags filled with food, clothing, and other
not
so basic necessities.

Today was worse than usual, with a constant press from teeming throngs
of
humanity. It seemed there were half again as many people as there were
last
time, which was probably an accurate observation. The winter festival
was
rapidly approaching and people were getting ready for it, which would
explain the heavy traffic. Whatever the cause, it made moving from stall
to
stall difficult, even for Kenshin, and he had to keep a careful step
lest
even he be bowled over by an errant body.

	$Did he ever gain any size?

"What was it you were saying?" Kenshin deftly evaded a small child who
was
paying more attention to a tank full of fish than the people directly in
front of her.

"Do you think we have enough food? I want to get most of the shopping
done
before the festival."

"We have everything we need."

Kaoru continued fretting. "I want to be sure. This year's is very
important

	$Although perfectly okay as is, I think you should remove either the
'is' or the 's from year's is.  Out loud, that would sound odd.

to me. I've been preparing for it for months, and I want everything to
be
perfect."

"It will be."

There was a hint of warning in her voice. "You mean like last year's
was?"

Kenshin laughed, using the one that carried a hint of assurance that
eased
Kaoru no matter how troubled she was. "I somehow doubt things will end
up
that bad. We know better than to let Yahiko and Sano drink too much and
have
them try to 'prove who the better man is in a test of arms.' We will not
allow Ayame and Suzume to get into an argument over who's the greater
tramp
and disgrace to the family. Yoshi will not be allowed to set off some
fireworks to celebrate, and end up blowing the one of the walls of the
dojo
into kindling. And we will definitely keep a closer eye on Hiro and
prevent
him from peeking on your sisters when they're taking baths."

	$He was just trying to judge the earlier argument between them.
Impartial third party, you know.

"I can't believe how perverted he is! They're his aunts. He must get it
from
your side of the family. There weren't any perverts in mine."

"What about your Uncle Watanabe?"

"He doesn't count since he married into the family," Kaoru huffed
indignantly.

Kenshin laughed again. He had quietly taken precautions this year to
make
certain things ran smoothly this time around. It had taken his normally
easygoing wife nearly two months to finally forgive all of the parties
involved in the matter from the previous year. In the last several
months,
she was obsessing about the festival five times worse than she ever had.
The
anxiety had taken its toll, and of late her temper was short; even their
two
sons had taken notice. Luckily there tended to be warning signs, and
they

	$Luckily, there

knew well enough to keep clear of their mother until the mood passed.

"I just want things to go well." Kaoru's sighed was heavy with the sound
of

	$sigh was

exhaustion.

"They will." He repositioned the packages again to wrap an arm around
her
waist. She eased into him a moment, the two of them basking in each
others'
warmth, before the throngs forced them to stand apart and continue
walking
normally, again, though closer together than when they started.

	$normally again, though

They approached a fish vendor, undoubtably to purchase tonight's meal
since
the fish wouldn't keep until next week.

	$Don't like that line.  Remove undoubtably.

 As they drew closer, Kenshin watched
people walk by. It was as he scanned the crowd that his gaze fell upon
the
man. The instant he did, it was almost as though another force had
gained
control of his eyes and forced them to follow the stranger.

The man was tall, a giant standing six feet high among a crowd where
most

	$tall: or ;  Not sure with those two.  Probably ;.

were at least a half foot shorter. His appearance was Japanese, but not
from
where in Japan he might have originated. His face was gaunt, and judging
by
the way his clothing fit snugly around him, he was clearly emaciated.
Kenshin doubted if he weighed more than Kaoru. A wide-brimmed straw hat
sat
on top of his head, but it rested back slightly, showing off his face
and a
tuft of hair the color of obsidian. Alabaster skin and cold steel blue
eyes
contrasted sharply with the black hakuma and top he wore. He was nearly
as
pale as a geisha, and his lips were just as snowy white as the rest of
his
face. The hilts of a katana and wakizashi rode at his hip, though his
hands
hung limply at his sides.

Kenshin's hand reflexively went to his waist, seeking the reassurance
that
only embracing a cold hilt could give, but there was nothing there. The
reverse-blade he owned still rested in its place on the mantle at home.
The
sword itself was a reluctant concession to the reality that, as much as
Kenshin might have wished otherwise, the world was still a dangerous
place.
In the past, he had discarded his sword, supposedly forever, but two
armed
intruders in his home, one even managing to threaten his oldest son, had
changed his mind. While he had managed to incapacitate the intruders
with a
broom, it had been a near thing, so he had another sword forged. It was
one
that had yet to bathe itself in blood, and the gods above willing, never
would.

But now, with this strange man across the street, one that seemed to
glide
across the ground rather than walk upon it, Kenshin found himself
wishing he
had his blade at his side as in the days of old. It was the first time
he
ever had such second thoughts.

If the stranger took notice of the attention directed his way, he showed
no
sign of it. As far as the redhead could tell, the gaunt man had eyes
only
for a rotund individual ahead of him. There were at least a half-dozen
people between the pair, and the chubby man took no note of his
follower,
nor did the gaunt man try to close the distance between them.

"Ohh."

The moan came from the woman at his side. Distracted by the distress in
Kaoru's voice, Kenshin reluctantly tore his gaze away from the man.
"What is
it?"

"Another headache," Kaoru moaned.

Since his wife was in no immediate danger, Kenshin looked back up, but
the
gaunt man, despite his height, had somehow blended in with the crowds.

Pushing the matter aside for the moment, he looked to Kaoru. "Didn't you
take that medicine Megumi recommended?"

Kaoru continued holding her head in obvious pain. "Yes, but it's not
working. I think it's probably all of the stress from preparing for this
that's making it worse than usual, or it could be the cold. It's
probably
going to snow before too long, and that makes it act up."

"Do you want to go back?"

For a moment, it seemed Kaoru was going to agree, then she removed her
hand
from her head and blinked several times. "No. It's starting to pass.
Let's
hurry and finish up, though."

Kenshin nodded and picked up the pace to the stall. He allowed Kaoru to
deal
with the fish vendor and watched silently as she began haggling over the
price of some small salmon. He hung back, tending to stay out of such
things. Despite being the Hitokiri Battousai, his appearance was
somewhat
benign to the untrained eye, and it wasn't in his nature to haggle over
things.

	$Heh, I just got a mental image of Kenshin in Monty Python's The Life
of Brian, trying to buy a beard.

 Besides, Kaoru enjoyed the game of bringing the price of something
down and getting a bargain. Over the years she had gotten quite good at
it,
though she would grouse for hours on end if she felt she ended up
receiving
a raw deal.

Once deeply involved in the haggling, Kaoru's mood seemed to relax and
the
pain eased, at least to Kenshin's eye. A smile came across his features,
and
his previous thoughts of the gaunt man were moved to the back of his
mind.
It was time to live in the moment again, and not worry about tall,
skinny
strangers he had never met before.

Five minutes later, Kaoru smiled triumphantly over her perceived
victory.
Kenshin was delighted that she chose to carry the fish rather than tax
his
sizable load by shoving another item on top. Standing around with the
bags
and boxes was starting to wear down his own endurance, which had
decreased
as the years took their toll on him. Something his wife and he both
shared.
Still, he found the energy to practice at least three times a week with
his
sword so that his skills did not deteriorate. He might not have improved
in
the last couple of decades, but neither would one mistake him for an
easy
mark once they witnessed him enter his stance.

A loud commotion further up the street caught their attention. The duo
looked in the direction it came from, but could see nothing due to the
mass
of bodies between them and the source of the disturbance. The
high-pitched
whinny of horses boomed louder than the noise the crowd generated. That
was
followed by a woman's scream that split the air, silencing everyone for
one
brief moment. But the moment passed and the crowds recovered from the
surprise, talking more loudly than ever about what they had just heard.

	$Nicely accurate description of the crowd's reaction.

As one, Kenshin and Kaoru headed towards the commotion to see if they
could
help. It was a struggle to move through the press of crowds, which
doubled
as people moved in the same direction, as many trying to get closer out
of
general curiosity as a desire to help.

	$more trying to get closer out of general curiousity than any desire to
help.

 It took many elbows, mostly dealt by
Kaoru, that parted the tide of humanity and allowed the duo to approach.
They stopped at the edge of an open area that the people were leaving
clear.
Again they could hear the whinnying of nervous horses, and could just
make
out a wagon in the center of the open area.

Once they made their way through the final layer of people, the pair
halted.
Kaoru held a hand up to her face, gasped, then moved behind her husband,
shielding her eyes from the sight. Kenshin, having seen worse, dealt far
worse personally, merely looked on.

	$worse and even dealty far

 Only a slight crinkle at the corner of
his eyes and a grim frown on his brow served as his reaction to the
sight.

	$On his brow?  Generally people frown with their mouths.

It was the fat man Kenshin had seen being followed earlier, his neck and
much of his upper body clearly broken by the wheels of the overburdened
wagon the horses were tied to. It was obvious from the expression on the
man's face that he had died in agony, though Kenshin doubted he suffered
long due to the severity of the injury. It was probably not more than a
handful of seconds, though life could be persistent and linger in a
person
long after it should have passed. He hoped for the man's sake this was
not
one of those times.

Kenshin forced his eyes to tear away from the body of the man, looking
for
another he knew would be close at hand. Sure enough, standing behind
several
of the people at the opposite side of the circle, Kenshin recognized the
gaunt stranger. Perhaps before he had been unaware of the Battousai's
presence, but no longer; his unblinking eyes were clearly pointed at
Kenshin, the slender man's piercing gaze seeming to bore right through
him.

	$Was it enough forshadowing, d'y'think?

Kenshin returned with a stare of his own, but the man did not even blink
in
acknowledgment. A stalemate or sorts, or so Kenshin hoped. With no
sword, he
could not deal with the stranger anymore than he could have Aoshi under
similar circumstances. With the crowd present, Kenshin hoped the
stranger
would refrain from trying anything violent, though the presence of the
masses had not prevented the fat man's death. No one was saying the word
'murder,' but rather they used the term 'accident.' It seemed only
Kenshin
knew better, and he had witnessed nothing.

	$It was about here that I started suspecting that this was Shinigame,
or maybe that other skinny guy associated with death.  I forget his
name.

There was no sign of emotion in the man's features. Not a trace of
malice or
kindness, sorrow or satisfaction, or even a sort of grim acceptance. It
was
like staring into a wooden marionette's eyes. The alabaster skin
remained
rigid, showing nothing like a grimace or smile. Even his nostrils seemed
formed of porcelain, not flaring in the slightest, as though he could
not be
bothered with breathing. Never had Kenshin seen anyone so devoid of even
the
faintest hint of feeling. What was before him was more like an automaton
than a man...

	$Would Kenshin know about automatons?

Then it struck Kenshin all at once, just as hard as one of Sano's fists
between the eyes. He knew who the man was, or more precisely, what he
was.
It seemed impossible, it defied explanation, there was no logical reason
to
jump to such an outrageous conclusion, yet still Kenshin was certain to
the
bottom of his soul that he was correct. It seemed right in some
inexplicable
way. Appropriate, might have been the word he was looking for. It fit.

And with that revelation of truth, so too did much of Kenshin's dread
and
fear slip away, despite the enormity of grasping the idea. Perhaps deep
down
inside he had expected this day to come, though he had no desire for it
to
pass. It was not so much an abstract concept for him as it was for
others,
which might have made dealing with what should have been overwhelming
fear
almost easy. Or maybe he was normally grim by nature, and the years had
just
added an illusion of his generally easy-going demeanor. Earlier in the
day,
he would have denied such an accusation vehemently, but now, confronted
as
he was, he was not so certain.

Kenshin found himself questioning 'why now of all times?' Not that there
was
ever a good time for this sort of confrontation, just that this was one
of
the worst possible moments. This should not happen on the eve of a
celebration where most of his family and friends would be getting
together.
Kaoru herself had stated how important this festival was to her.
Afterwards
perhaps, but not now. The timing was completely wrong. But then he was
fairly certain the fat man on the ground would have had similar qualms,
and
they had done him no good either.

Fear found itself replaced by determination. Just because something had
to
be a certain way, did not mean he would blithely accept it, not without
a
struggle. It was unfair, but of the many lessons as he had learned
throughout his travels, one of the foremost was that life was most
assuredly
unfair.

	$Death, however, is fair to everyone.

Kaoru tugged at his sleeve, breaking him out of his lingering
contemplations. "Let's go home. My head's hurting again."

"Yes, I think that would be for the best." And no doubt the gruesome
scene
had served to disturb her, especially on the eve on what was supposed to
be
a festive occasion. Kaoru was never one to be unmoved by the grisly
sight of
death, and had become even more sensitive to it since the birth of the
children. Besides, he wanted to return to their home as well and
prepare.

Kenshin gave his wife an affectionate pat on the arm before reshifting
his
grip again on the boxes and setting out. He made them move quickly,
though
Kaoru needed little prodding. It saddened his heart to see her so
disturbed
by the sight. Her strength would be needed more than ever before in
their
lives if his suspicions were accurate, and with each passing step he
became
more certain they were.

	$Which means, of course, that he's wrong and it's Kaoru that's gonna
kick the bucket.  I'd like to see how the rewrite of this went.

 Still, she was strong, and as rambunctious as the
boys could be, they were good children. They would be ready to take on
whatever responsibilities might be thrust upon them, if the need should
arise.

If the need should arise.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Go on inside and lie down."

"I should help put things away."

Kenshin marked the protest as weak. Between the headache and the man's
death, Kaoru had seemed to grow more faint the nearer they drew to their
home. Now she had a ghostly pallor, and was obviously straining to
remain
standing. Did she sense what was to come too, on some similar level? Was
this her reaction for what was to come?

	$Yeah, it's just too obvious.

"I can take care of matters." He kissed her once, very deeply on the
lips, a
move that startled her. Usually he was not so openly affectionate, only
kissing her on the cheek or forehead outside of the bedroom itself. It
was
his nature, opting to show compassion rather than affection, or at least
rarely showing such open displays of love. But given the circumstances,
a
kiss was the least she deserved. Had she felt better and they had more
time,
perhaps he would have made love to her, despite the fact it was the
middle
of the day, but neither was the case.

	$Kaoru: Aww, not now honey.  I have a headache.

He handed her a dose of headache medicine and coaxed her into their bed.
The
move seemed to assuage her suspicions, and she mixed the medicine with
water
and drank it. He assured her one more time that he would put their
things
away, and closed the rice paper door behind him. It was a lie, or more
accurately, a deception. He would do as he said, should the opportunity
arise, but that was in serious doubt.

There was a sense of urgency. Time was fleeting. The clothing he wore
would
have to suffice. It was loose enough to fight in; most of the clothing
he
owned was. He despised tight and confining outfits; a holdover from his
former lifestyle where being unable to move freely often meant the
difference between life and death. In truth, all he really needed was a
sword.

He entered the living room to find it resting right where it was
supposed
to, high in its place of honor on the wall. Idly, he noted that the room
had
been dusted recently. It was odd what one noticed in the moments before
a
life and death struggle was to take place. The lack of dust pleased him.
It
meant that, for a change, his youngest son, Yoshi, had promptly done
what he
had been told. It was a good sign of him finally maturing and taking
some of
his responsibilities. It made Kenshin smile, a nearly impossible task
with
what awaited him.

He tucked the blade and scabbard in his belt, and strolled outside to
the
back steps where challengers were to approach the dojo and issue their
challenge. He had a feeling this was where the gaunt one would approach.
It
was a challenge, of a sort. At least to Kenshin.

His older son, Hiro was at a friend's house. He had no idea where Yoshi
currently was. Perhaps he was cleaning out storeroom, another one of his
chores he had been given while Kenshin and Kaoru had been shopping. He
hoped
his son would not witness what was to come, though in truth he had no
idea
of how the upcoming conflict would appear to another person's eyes.

	$A really wild, really realistic kata, probably.

 He did
not know what form the struggle would take, or even if there would be
one.
But in any case, it would be for the best if Yoshi saw nothing. No child
should be forced to witness what was to come.

	$Kids need to learn about death early, IMO.

Time passed and Kenshin cast himself on the wayward currents of
memories.
That seemed natural enough. From what he understood, it was quite common
in
this sort of situation. There were so many events that had helped make
him
into the person he was today, right at this moment. The slaughter of all
those around him when he was a child and his escape from death through
nothing but blind luck. The first time he picked up a sword at Hiko
Seijuro's command. The first man he slew. The night he gained the first
half
of the scar on his cheek. Tomoe. The completion of his brand, etching
permanently upon his face the price of life and love. Forsaking the path
of
dealing death forever. Meeting Kaoru for the first time, and the slow
and
gradual return to light she helped bring to him. Sano, the best and
perhaps
truest friend he ever had. Yahiko, and a chance to help raise someone
the
way he should have been raised. Kyoto. Giving up the sword entirely, or
at
least for a long time. Marriage, and the happiest moment of his life.
The
birth of Hiro, and learning that there were other moments that could
rival
becoming one with a woman for the first time. The difficult birth of
Yoshi.
Years spent in blissful happiness, despite the trials and tribulations
they
were forced to endure. Sometimes taking the good times for granted when
they
occurred, but not now. Everything came back in all of its blessed glory.
Over time, he had come to live a good life, and there was little he
would
have changed, at least when it came to the events that he had the
ability to
change, and there was no life that was bereft of mistakes. It didn't
work
like that.

His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. Perhaps there would
still be
more good times to come, more memories to create. It might have been a
good
day to die, but it would be a better one to live.

After a seeming eternity, which was less than a dozen minutes, the gaunt
man
finally appeared. It was as Kenshin suspected. The stranger approached
through the gate for challenges, not surprised in the slightest that
Kenshin
waited at the steps for him. The man walked casually onto the grounds of
the
house and home.

Kenshin rose to his feet, meeting the unspoken challenge, if it could be
considered that.

The stranger paused. "You can see me."

A statement, not a question. There was no surprise in his flat voice; it
was
nothing more than a proclamation of a fact. That voice was as devoid of
emotion as the face it belonged to. It held a certain... inevitability,
and

	$Perhaps:
	certain inevitability, if that was the word, and

the full effect of what Kenshin was about to do fully settled in. He
supposed his whole reaction to this event was foolish and ill-conceived,
but
something in him demanded he do this and resist the irresistible.

The gaunt man spoke again, using hollowed words that held meaning but
were
unfeeling. "It is uncommon, but not unheard of. You have ushered many
into
my embrace in times past, far more than most. Those that travel with me
alongside them for some time, those that summon and introduce me to
others,
can sometimes sense my essence and know me for what I am."

"I never saw you before today," Kenshin pointed out.

"Yes, you did," the man corrected. "You merely did not recognize me. I
was
around you all the time, and you became so used to my existence that you
did
not bother to look closely. But I was always there. Much time has passed
since last we met, and you are no longer desensitized to what I am. My
reappearance after so long has opened your eyes. Now you see me before
you."

Kenshin let out a long breath. He saw mist form from it. The temperature
was
dropping quickly. He hadn't even realized it, distracted as he had been
with
what was to come. There were dark clouds overhead, and he wondered if it
would be cold enough to snow, like Kaoru had thought earlier. He found
he
wanted to see snow again, decorating the landscape with a sheet of white
that buried everything under a veil of pristine innocence. It was an
illusion, of course, all the dirty things were still there, but it was
an
illusion he had enjoyed throughout his life.

Save when bright red blood was spilled on top of it.

	$Don't eat the cherry sno-cones.

A brief memory of Tomoe assailed him, and for a moment his resolve
almost
broke and he released his sword, prepared to meet his fate. But then
thoughts, memories, and dreams of Kaoru chased his doubts away, and he
was
determined to fight once again.

Kenshin let out a deep sigh, making another cloud rise in front of him,
disappearing before it made it to eye level. He drew his scabbard out,
holding it by the middle with his left hand. He held it crossways in
front
of him, parallel to the ground. "I long ago accepted the idea I would
die.
It's held no fear for me since I was a child. I could not have become
the
Battousai and feared either giving death or receiving it. By the time I
married Kaoru, I made peace with everything I had done, and learned to
live
with myself, regrets included. I have left no thing that could be
finished
undone. I knew this day would come; it comes for everyone. If I don't
live
to see another snowfall, then I can accept that. However, it's not in my
nature to lay down and die. I love my wife and family, and would fight
with
everything I have to spend just one more second with them."

"I cannot be defeated," the man told him.

	$And besides, I'm not here for you.  I have really come for Goldie,
your son's pet goldfish.

"And I haven't been defeated yet. We have something in common."

"I am unstoppable. You are merely transient flesh."

"Then if I can't stop you, I'll settle for staving you off for a while."
Kenshin drew the sword from its scabbard and discarded the sheath.

The gaunt man drew his own katana and held it in before him. "No. It is
time
for me to come. I will not be turned aside."

A third deep breath, and the steam seemed to rise slightly above
Kenshin's
eyes before dissipating. Yes. It would snow. "Perhaps, but I'll try."

The man moved forward, with no urgency in his step. He glided across the
walkway and drew closer to Kenshin. The redhead's skilled eye told him
that
despite the man's sword being drawn, he would not employ it in an
offensive
manner with the way he held it and approached. It seemed he would be
content
to walk right up to Kenshin, which meant that it fell to him to deliver
the
first blow.

The Hitokiri Battousai. He had defeated everyone in the end. Not a
boast,
but fact. And this time, maybe more than ever, he had to win. It was
going
to be the hardest contest ever- of that he had no doubt. There was no
sense
in holding back, not against this opponent; it was pointless. Accepting
that, Kenshin opened the fight by feinted with his shoulder to the left,
while bringing his sword up, then pivoting on his heel to abruptly
change
direction and sweep in from a high arc to the right.

The stroke was delivered flawlessly, the years of peace melting away as
the
weapon in his hand became nothing more than an extension of his body. It
was
faster than a heartbeat, a blur that swept towards the man in the time
it
took a hummingbird to flap its wings. The reverse blade was aimed at the
soft spot where shoulder became neck, a move that had knocked out dozens
of
opponents over the years.

The gaunt man raised his own sword, effortlessly blocking the strike
long
before it ever met his form.

Kenshin was taken aback by the block, as much by the speed as the
irresistible solidity behind his opponent's own sword. It was like
striking
a mountain, the man's blade not wavering a millimeter as it absorbed the
full impact of the strike. Even Sano was nowhere near that powerful. The
force of Kenshin's own blow was forced back down the sword and into his
arm,
throwing him off balance for a second. As automatic as breathing, the
Battousai's mind raced and evaluated over a dozen attacks that could
come
from the man's position, and the defenses Kenshin could muster to
counter or
evade them. But the red-haired swordsman was surprised by the lack of a
follow-up to the attack.

The gaunt man seemed completely unmoved by the blow. Kenshin remained in
a
guard position for a moment, waiting for the man to make another move.

All he did was take another step forward.

Again there was a moment of doubt for Kenshin, a sense that everything
the
man had said was right and that he should just lay down his sword and
accept
what was to come. Had it not been for a sudden flash of the joy of his
family's faces as they celebrated Yoshi's last birthday a month ago, he
might have done so, but the memory of the happiness they shared shook
him
out of his perceived helplessness, and he gathered his strength and
returned
to the offense. If not for himself, then for them he would continue his
struggle.

He tried a low stab towards the leg this time. Again the gaunt man
blocked
it with an ease that belayed the skill the strike was delivered with.
Prepared for the irresistibility behind the block, Kenshin spun and
attack
high again, aiming at the same spot he had tried a moment ago. But the
man's
sword reached up even faster and turned the attack aside as easily as it
had
the first two times.

And then the dance truly began. A dervish of blows delivered by Kenshin
followed, each one trying to lure the man out of his defense, trying to
find
or exploit the holes that should be there. The emotionless stranger only
employed a very basic technique that should have been simple to
overcome,
but his speed and immovable nature made it impossible. Kenshin tried
everything he knew, every technique he had been taught, but the man
would
not falter, not even back away a step. It was Kenshin's turn to feel
like so
many of the untrained, inept thugs he had dealt with in his life. The
fiery-haired swordsman felt like a child using a sword for the first
time,
so slow and clumsy he was compared to his opponent, who still refused to
show the faintest hint of emotion.

And, much to Kenshin's vexation, the man would not attack. It was all
defense without a hint of offense. For someone that, in theory, was
intent
upon killing him, he was not trying very hard, unless he intended for
Kenshin to keel over from a heart attack. In the back of his mind he
supposed it was a possibility, but somehow he doubted it. It didn't feel
right.

Again doubts plagued him, eating away at his resolve like hungry dogs
would
on a side of beef that was thrown to them.

	$a side of beef.

 Only the memory and training of
forcing him to fight no matter what happened enabled him to continue
fighting effectively. A rain of blows formed an endless storm of steel
and
sparks that fell to the ground in a shower of tiny yellow stars. Time
lost
meaning as a hundred strikes became five hundred, and then more. The
Battousai switched from speed to strength to solely relying on skill,
and
still his opponent effortlessly countered everything, never a reaction
in
his face. It felt like Kenshin was fighting a statue. The man did not
even
break into a sweat!

	$Well, he IS dead.  Sorta.

Strength began to leave his arms, and Kenshin felt the inexorable toll
of
fighting an inexhaustible opponent weigh heavily upon him. His blows
began
to falter. Over a thousand slashes and stabs with a blade, more than he
had
dealt than in any five fights combined in his entire life, and still no
progress. His blade failed to draw near the gaunt one's form. There was
no
difference between the first blow and the thousandth, save for his
exhaustion. To the man, the battle might as well have never happened.

Kenshin knew his style was deteriorating. He could feel the holes open
up in
his technique as he grew increasingly tired and his blows held less
power
with each stroke. His breath rose in ragged gasps, and the clouds of
steam
now sailed high above his head. Had the man so chosen, he could have
ended
Kenshin's life at any moment, but still he refrained from unleashing
even
the most meager of offenses, impossibly content at remaining passive in
their duel.

	$Of course.  He needn't do the deed himself, mearly be present for it.

The sword nearly slipped from Kenshin's grasp. That was it. He was
almost
out of strength, and would truly be at his opponent's mercy. There was
only
one thing that remained, one attack left to unleash. He had sworn to
abandon
it when he refused to kill again, for it was only a killing technique,
reverse blade sword or not. Part of him felt nauseated at the idea of
relinquishing his most sacred of vows, one that was just as strong as
what
he promised his wife on the day they were married, to love her and
remain at
her side until death parted them. Was compromising his integrity worth
the
price of survival? Against another opponent, probably not. He was
willing to
die for his ideals under those circumstances, but against the being that
stood before him now, could he even kill him with a sword at all?

	$Given time, even death may die.

What price survival?

Kenshin cast a backward glance to his home. In the end, any price could
be
paid for something that was priceless.

Moving back, needing a moment to summon the last of his reserves of
strength,

	$Perhaps: his last reserves of strength

 Kenshin locked his icy gaze with the man's. It was an
all-or-nothing attack. If it failed, the fight was over. He would be
unable
to even pick up his sword. If it struck... perhaps it would be over for
him

	$Perhaps

anyway, but he would die knowing he had tried everything he possibly
could.

He was prepared. Tensed leg muscles uncoiled, and he leaped high in the
air.
His body underwent a metamorphosis as he rose towards the sky like a
bird,
turning white as his the pupils in his eyes disappeared in a white haze.
There was nothing but the sword now; the body was merely a vessel with
which
to deliver it into a fleshy sheath. Thick sheets of snow began to fall
as he
reached the apex of his leap, surrounding him and traveling as
companions at
his side as they answered gravity's call and went downward together
towards
the emaciated figure below.

Through eyes made white with pain and focused on only one thing, a
target
one inch below the throat, Kenshin streaked through the air like a bolt
of
lightning. No one had ever parried the blow, or came close to evading
it. It
was the pinnacle of his art, a move he had created on his own. An
unbeatable
technique when delivered correctly, and he could feel to the base of his
soul that he had never unleashed a more perfect blow in his life.

The air itself seemed to part, howling in fear of the approaching
onslaught.
The blade descended, and for a moment Kenshin knew the impossible and
that
he had slipped by the man's defense. But the moment passed, and Kenshin
felt
like he was moving in slow motion as his opponent's blade rose up in a
blur
once again, sealing the hole and meeting Kenshin's own sword in the
middle.

The impact proved too much for the reverse blade sword. It broke in
half,
shattered by near irresistible force meeting a truly immovable object.
Both

	$Seems like there should be a 'the' before 'near'.

blade and wielder hit the ground at the same time, one piece of the
shattered piece of metal hitting point first and embedding itself in the
ground. Both warrior and weapon lay unmoving long after they struck.

The Hitokiri Battousai, Kenshin Himura, had been defeated without a mark
on
him.

	$There's always someone better.

The ground was cold; that was the first coherent thought that came to
Kenshin. Nothing but peace for his fate remained in his mind now. He had
tried his best. No one could fault him for that. It was not the living
itself, breathing was simple, but the effort made to have a good life
that
had made it worthwhile. He had tried. He had made mistakes, many at
times,
but had enjoyed far more successes. And the quality of those successes
by
far outweighed the mistakes, or so he believed. So he hoped.

It was odd how now, at the end, he was concerned only for his wife and
the
children, and how they would have to carry on without him. Especially
Kaoru,
who would bear the worst of the burden. She had already lost her parents
and
was forced to raise her two sisters with only Dr. Genzai to help  until
he

	$help until

had come along. Now history would repeat itself as she was forced to
raise a
family alone once more. She deserved better than to have that fate
thrust
upon her shoulders so that she should relive that experience. Now she
was
older and more tired, but their sons were older than Ayame and Suzume
had
been at that time, which would make things easier. No doubt his
sisters-in-law would help, especially since Suzume still hadn't settled
down. And there was Megumi, Sano, Yahiko, and other close friends and
acquaintances that would come together in their time of need. They had
made
many of each throughout the years, helping others whenever they were in
trouble with no desire of any form of recompense, although frequently
they
received it in the form of friendship. His wife and sons would be taken
care
of, if they let themselves.

"Will it be quick?" Kenshin said, unable to pick his head up off the
ground,
barley able to speak with how tired he felt.

"Quick and painless." The voice held assurance in it, but one of cold
hard
fact. Some warmth, or even a touch of compassion, might have been
preferred,
Kenshin thought. Still, there were far worse ways to die.

He remained where he was, waiting for the end. His life didn't really
flash
before his eyes right before his final moments on Earth, but perhaps it
was
just as well,

	$well.

	Your life _always_ flashes before your eyes before you die.  It's
called living.

Despite coming to terms with his mistakes, he had no desire to
relive them.

As Kenshin lay there, he could have sworn the ground grew colder, and
subsequently transferred that cold into him.

	$I'll leave the physics nitpicks out of this.

 He wondered if the end had
already come, and that it was merely his body growing colder with death.
If
so, the man hadn't been completely honest. True, Kenshin had felt
nothing,
but his body still ached with an exhaustion unlike any he had
experienced
before, one that felt like it would last forever. Not a painless end,
for he
was still in a sort of pain. He wondered how long it would last.

"Father, why are you lying in the walkway? Did you fall down and hurt
yourself"

Kenshin raised his head, enough strength had returned for that. He
looked up
to see the brown eyes of his nine-year old son, his red hair as tangled
a
mess up as always. "You can see me? I'm not dead?"

	$tangled and messed up

Yoshi nudged his father with his foot.

	$Foolish child!  You're supposed to poke them with a stick, not your
foot!

 "Doesn't look like it. Is this a some
kind of game? It's stupid, if it is."

Kenshin shakily returned to his feet. It made no sense. Why was he still
alive? The man had more than enough time to finish him off. There would
have
been no witnesses, and even if there had, what difference would it have
made? Death was inevitable. The man had even assured him the end would
be
quick and painless. Yet, this was clearly not the end, or at least not
the
one he had envisioned.

Not knowing why he had been miraculously spared, Kenshin grabbed his son
and
embraced him. In his weakened state, Yoshi was almost able to tear away
from
his crying father. "Dad, are you drunk? You're acting like Uncle Sano
when
he goes on a drinking binge and gets all weepy."

"I'm just glad I can do this to you. Oh, Son, you have no idea of how
good
it is to hug you." Kenshin felt like crying.

	$And thus we see how Soun became what he was.

Yoshi squirmed in his father's grasp, typical of the way all nine-year
olds
feel when they believe that they've outgrown the need for outward signs
of
affection and are embarrassed by them instead. "What's wrong? Did you
and
Mom had a fight?"

"No," Kenshin said through tears of joy, "Your Mother and-"

Will it be quick?

"Dad, you're squeezing a little hard."

Quick and painless.

"Dad, come on. You're starting to hurt me!"

Kenshin was still in pain.

"Dad!"

So who wasn't?

"KAORU!" Kenshin roared.

	$Not the quickest mind in the room, is he?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Megumi placed her hand on Kenshin's shoulder. He felt weak. She had
never
seen him weak. Not in her entire life. Never, even at his lowest point,
did
he look so defeated. Always he had faced everything with resolve, grim
or
otherwise. He had stared at the horrors of the war, inflicted them, and
came
out of it with determination where other men would have crumbled or
broken
outright. Always there was an inner fire that could not be quenched. But
now, now it was completely gone.

Reluctantly, Megumi said, "The pain from the headaches had been growing
greater for some time, and from the way she described it, and the way
the
pain progressed, I had my suspicions this might happen. I've seen this
sort
of thing before, and there's nothing that can be done. If there was
anything, anything at all, I would have done it. Believe me, I would
have
gone to any lengths to save her."

"I know. It's not your fault. I don't blame you," Kenshin said.

His voice sounded so hollow, empty of everything. She and Sano would
have to
keep a close eye on him. And Yahiko could be summoned from his
wanderings as
well. Ayame was only two villages away, and from what she had gleaned
last
week from Kaoru, Suzume was coming in from Hokkaido as well, intent on
dropping by for the winter festival. Perhaps she could leave a few days
early.

Megumi said, "When I informed her of what I suspected, she told me to
keep
the truth from you. She didn't want to be treated any differently from
if
she was dying than if she was normal. I just kept increasing the dosage
of
painkillers and she was able to function normally for the most part. It
happened faster than I thought. I was certain she would make it past the
festival. It was one of the reasons she was so determined that it be go
so
well this year. Perhaps I should have told you anyway, just so you would
have been... prepared."

	$Prepared.

"No. You did the right thing."

Megumi's eyebrows rose. There was a bit of resolve in his voice now.

Kenshin continued. "This is what she wanted, and I can understand and
respect her wishes. She made her peace with what was going to happen,
and
didn't need our grief to upset it. I'd rather her... her last days were

	$Her

happy ones, spent with us in joy instead of sorrow of what was to come.
I
think it was better for everyone. I think she knew that would be best
too.
She was always smarter than me, that way."

Megumi nodded, feeling tears form in her own eyes, and she had known
this
day was coming long before Kenshin had. Kaoru's diagnosis had been the
worst
she had ever delivered in her life. "She died in her sleep. It happened
quickly and painlessly."

	$When I die, I want to go like my Grandfather, quickly, in my sleep,
not screaming in terror like the other passengers in his car.


"I know. He was good to his word, and I'm grateful for that."

"Pardon?"

Kenshin waved away her worries with her hand. "Nothing. I was just
thinking
about something someone said to me earlier in the day."

He turned to her, and Megumi saw that indeed, some faint ember of the
old
resolve was still within him. It was dull now, and would be for some
time,
but so long as it was still there, he would be all right in the end.
Through
all of the horrible trials he had undergone throughout his life, he had
managed to survive them, and this, possibly the worst he had suffered
yet,
would not break him. He was the strongest person she had ever seen, and
would be better in time. She had seen similar scenes repeated many times
when at another's deathbed, her career always guaranteed she would have
to
see that. Kenshin was not like those that were broke from such a thing.
She
was certain, now.

Feeling some relief to counterbalance the sorrow that was threatening to
overwhelm her, Megumi told him, "Sano and I can stay for a while to help
you
out."

Kenshin smiled, a sad, weak thing. "I'd appreciate that, and so would
the
boys. You're as close an aunt as Ayame and Suzume are to them. Maybe
even a
little more since they don't spend much time here. I think they need a
woman
around. It might remind them of their mother, but I think it'll be good
for
them in the long run. And, I'll probably need both you and Sano's help."

"Of course. We'd do anything for you."

"I know, and that helps a lot." He looked to the door. "I need some
fresh
air. Could you keep an ear open for the boys. They're in Hiro's room. I
think they both cried themselves to sleep. I need to think about things,
and
if I see them..."

"You might not be able to think clearly." Megumi finished for him. "I
understand. I'd probably be the same way. I'll let you know if they need
you."

"Thanks."

"You're holding up very well."

"Am I?" Kenshin asked, then thought about it. "It doesn't really feel
like
it, but maybe you're right. Someone I met sort of prepared me for this,
I
guess. That's probably it."

The swordsman didn't say another word. He walked around the house and to
the
back. It had continued to snow outside, covering everything in an icy
blanket that paled in comparison to the shroud that now rested over his
frozen soul. He had wanted to see it, this field of virgin white. He had
wanted to witness it almost more than anything. Now, with the snowfall
before him, it seemed hollow and empty. Just frozen water with no
special
significance at all. Completely pointless.

	$And cold.

Eventually he ended up on the steps where he had waited for the man who
had
visited their house. The only sign of his passing was the body inside
and
the broken pieces of sword that still lay on the ground. Only the edge
of
the hilt of one, and the shattered half of the other that remained
sticking
in the stone walkway, reached above the pristine snow.

Kenshin picked up the remnants, forcing the piece embedded in the rock
out,
slicing open his palm and causing the blood to flow with the effort made
to
remove it.  He held them gingerly, those sections of metal that had
failed
him. For a moment, he considered holding the sharpened piece up to his
stomach and driving it in, pulling back and forth until his guts came
spewing out, decorating the snow with blood the way Tomoe's had. It
would be
an appropriate fate for one such as him. But as quickly as it came, the
feeling left. His sons still needed him, and he had promised never to
take
another life; that included his own.

Besides, Kaoru would never forgive him anymore than he would have
forgiven
her had their roles been reversed and she was the one that considered
suicide. She had made peace with what was to come, and she had assumed
he
would have the fortitude to handle her passing without having to
reassure
him and force promises of going on without her. She had faith that he
would
take care of himself and their children, and he was never one to betray
her
trust. He was not about to start now, no matter how hard continuing on
might
seem.

It was time to make peace with himself.

"Useless thing," he muttered, tossing the two pieces away. It had been a
silly thought, really. A sword was a poor choice of tool for staving off
death, even a reversed one.

	$Although, he did get to fulfill many a hero's dream of actually
fighting death on a battlefeild they could understand for the life of
their love.

He never had a chance. Nothing could fend death
off forever, just as the man had said. Even the legendary Battousai
could
not defeat the one foe that conquered everyone in the end. He was as
helpless as the weakest newborn in that respect.

He was still exhausted, his strength from the fight never fully
returning,
and something within him thought it probably never would. Tired beyond
anything he could recall, he sat down in the exact spot where he waited
earlier in the day. It was a comfortable spot. A good place to wait,
when he
stopped and thought about. He'd stay there for an hour, collecting his
thoughts and looking towards the pathway leading to the steps, just in
case
his visitor returned, looking for him. If, after an hour, the gaunt man

	$I'm not sure, but I think it should be: returned looking for him.

failed to show, he'd go back inside and start with the slow, painful
process
of getting on with his life. It would take months to regain some
semblance
of order, and things would never be the same, could never be the same,
but
he and his sons would carry on past this and forge ahead. They would
meet
new challenges, know new loves, and new heartbreaks, at least for the
boys.
That was what living life meant; suffering and enjoyment taken in
continuous
doses, sometimes more of one than the other.

Though, considering what he felt now, Kenshin knew he would return to
the
same spot the next day just to see if his visitor would come back. Yes,
that
seemed an acceptable concession. Most of him would carry on and live
life to
the fullest, while for just one hour a day, he would remember the past
and
see if his old acquaintance would drop by for a visit again, and this
time
intent on meeting him instead of another.

	$Yes, but should he forget him?

And so he waited.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mitsune grabbed on to the bottom of Yoshi's shirt and tugged, trying to
gain
his attention in a manner that was only subtle to five-year olds.
"Daddy,
how come Grandpa sits outside on the back steps like that?"

"Well, Mitsune, it's kind of hard to explain. Ever since your
Grandmother
died-"

"I don't remember having a Grandmother."

"She died a long time before you were born. I was only several years
older
than you are now when it happened. Anyway, ever since then, your
grandfather
spends an hour out there, sitting in the exact same spot every single
day."

"How come?"

"I... never asked. I'm sure he has his reasons. Now why don't you take a

	$Never

nap?"

"I don't wanna. I'm not tired."

"All right. See if you can help your mother prepare for the festival.
Daddy
has to get ready for work."

Mitsune watched her father walk away, annoyed. She still had questions
that
had not been answered to her satisfaction. Deciding it would be best to
go
to the source, she bundled her sweater tightly to ward off the cold and
headed towards the back porch, approaching her grandfather from behind.

When she drew within ten feet of him. He said, "Hello, Mitsune," without

	$him, he said

turning around.

"How do you always know it's me?" she huffed.

"Your grandfather still has good ears." Kenshin turned away from staring
at
the falling snow and gave her a warm smile.

Finding that an acceptable answer to her insatiable curiosity, she
approached and plopped down next to him with a thump. She moved closer
to
share in his warmth. When she looked up to steal a closer look at her
grandfather's face, she noted he seemed different somehow. Usually he
was as
energetic as her father or mother, sometimes even more lively, but not
today. For the first time in her short memory, he looked old.

	$It's never fun to suddenly realise that someone you know is old.

Having all the tact five-year olds could muster, she said, "You look
tired,
Grandpa."

Kenshin returned to watching the snow fall. "You and your brothers keep
me
busy."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'd much rather have you keeping me busy than leaving me
alone to
mope around. Not many people like playing with an old man."

"I like playing with you. You're silly."

"So I've been told. A long time ago, I used to be serious all the time,
but
then I learned how to be silly, at least some of the time. I like that a
lot
more. No matter how old you get, you should remember how to be silly
sometimes."

"I know how to be silly," Mitsune assured him. She looked at the snow
fall,
matching her grandfather's stare at it. "It sure is snowing a lot.
Everything's going to turn white soon. I like the snow."

"Then we both like the snow."

"You like the snow too?"

"Yes. I didn't always like it. There was a time when I wished to see a
lot
of it once, and I did. But at the time, I thought I had paid a price
that
was too high for it. It took me a while to realize I was being
conceited. I
was always intended to see it, so I might as well make the most of it
and
enjoy it. Someday I won't be seeing anymore, unfortunately.

"How come? Are you moving to a desert? It doesn't snow there."

"Not exactly. But I'd rather not get into that. Why don't we talk about
something else?"

"Okay. Grandpa?"

"Yes?"

"How come you're out here all the time?"

"I'm not out here all the time. Just a little while every day."

"But how come?"

"I'm waiting for an old acquaintance to drop by."

	$Well, he didn't forget.

"Uncle Sano?"

"No. Someone else. He came by twenty years ago this day. I offered to
dance
with him, and we did."

"You danced with a man? I thought only girls could dance with boys."

	$Yes, but your Grandfather is silly, and just a little funny.

"It wasn't that sort of dance. It was one with steel and sweat. I led,
but
he outlasted me. In the end, he chose to dance with a different partner.

	$That's the sort of metaphorical double talk that confused the hell out
of me as a child.

 But
I know that one of these days he's going to come back and invite me
along.
And then I'll get to see... someone I haven't seen in a very long time.
I'm

	$Someone

not sure when, so I take a little time out every day and wait and see if
he'll come by."

"Wow. If he's not here yet, he must be pretty slow."

"Yes, slow but tenacious. He'll be here eventually. I used to want to
see
him when I first started coming out here, but as the days passed, I
realized
that there were other things I wanted to do before he came back. So even
though I came out here, it was more out of respect for your Grandmother
than
any desire to meet him. Nowadays, though, well, I might not mind it
quite as
much. I've lived a long and active life. I'm not sorry for it, but it
has
taken a lot out of me, and I do feel a bit tired."

"I'm not tired," Mitsune said, punctuating her statement with a yawn as
she
rested her head in his side. It took about a minute before she was tired
enough to drift down to resting on his lap when he moved, which served
to
rouse her slightly.

"Mitsune. It's time to go in and take a nap."

She raised her head up groggily. "I like it here. You're warm."

He mussed her hair, but for the first time that she could remember, he
looked sad instead of happy. That roused her a little more, though not
much.

He said, "It'll be warmer inside. You'll sleep better."

She was supposed to obey adults, and he had told her twice. Since her
grandfather treated her nice, and she was feeling just a *little* cold,
she
assented to his demands and stood up to go to her room and lay down.

"Mitsune?"

She turned. "Yes."

"Here." He handed her something tied in a piece of paper.

Her curiosity piqued, she unwrapped it. "Wow! It's chocolate."

	$chocolate!"

"I got it from a vendor who's going to be at the festival. He just
returned
from a trip to Switzerland and brought it back with him. It's the real
good
stuff."

She started salivating at the very idea. One other time her grandfather
had
gotten her and her brothers some chocolate. It was the best thing she
had
ever tasted, even if she had to share it with her brothers. "Do I have
to
share it with Tomo and Seiji?"

"No. It's all yours."

"Thanks, Grandfather. Good-bye." She began to run away, intent on
devouring
it before her stupid brothers found out she had it and tried to make her
share it with them. She was almost out of earshot when she heard her
grandfather's voice drift back to where she was.

"I knew you would come. Twenty years to the day? Is that appropriate or
just
ironic?"

"It is time. That is all it means." Mitsune noted the other man's voice
was
flat and dull. She had never heard a voice so empty of everything. It
made
her feel uneasy.

"Well, I'm ready this time. I'm glad you waited until now. I didn't
realize
it the first time you came, but there were a lot of things I had to do
before you returned. I think I finished most of them, though. Those that
aren't finished, well, they're minor. Besides, after Hiro nearly died
from
cholera last year, I knew I couldn't stand to outlive any of them. I did
that once. Never again."

"You will not."

"That's reassuring, to me. I think I sort of knew you'd be coming by
this
year. I've been feeling so tired lately. I never really regained all of
my
strength after the last time we met and dueled, but it's gotten much
worse
these last few months. I've never... felt so tired before, and no matter
how

	$Felt

much sleep I get, I... never seem to get more energy. Just losing it at
a
slow... trickle. I feel groggy."

	$Never    Trickle.

"Yes."

"You know, with the life I've led, I always thought things would end
more
violently. I'm glad... they didn't. I like the peace. I think it suits
me...

	$They

better. Will it be quick?"

	$Better.

"Quick and painless."

"Good. I don't like sounding self-centered, but I've known enough pain
in my
life. I'd rather not feel anymore. I think I'll just... close my eyes
now.

	$Close

And when I open them... I'll get to see... Kaoru, won't I?"

"Yes."

"Good. It's been a while..." his voice drifted off.

	$His

Mitsune turned then and continued to her room. On some instinctual level
she
knew she did not want to meet her grandfather's visitor, or see her
grandfather either. She didn't know what would be waiting for her if she
did, but she knew she wouldn't like it, even though her grandfather had
sounded relieved, almost happy, at meeting the man. If he was happy,
then
she could accept what would happen, no matter what it was.

She wrapped up the chocolate again, her appetite lost. Later, she would
share it with Tomo and Seiji. They were her brothers, after all, and she
should be nicer to them, just like their grandfather was. If he could be
patient with them, then she could too, no matter how irritating they
could
be.

She thought he would have approved.

	$Gee, that's a rather extreme way to teach the concept of sharing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

First time using Rurouni Kenshin, and it turns into another sad piece. I
tend to do these every now and then. It's the nature of my muse. Had it
in
my head for a while after watching the OVAs. Original ending was
different
and more abrupt, which I didn't care for once I wrote it. So I added the
Megumi and Mitsune bits, which definitely felt better and bring better
closure for my taste. More somber than the TV series, but I preferred
the
more serious mood the OVAs set. Not completely satisfied with it. I
think it
could have better impact in the early parts, but I'm not sure how to do
it
at the moment. It could be I'm just being paranoid or overly critical,
and
I'm not dissatisfied with what is there, merely that I feel there's room
for
improvement (but isn't there always?). Definitely prefer this to the
original ending, so there is that. And if anything comes to me or
someone
says something which rings true, I can probably incorporate that. Heck,
one
of the reasons we send these out to the list is for feedback and getting
a
different viewpoint from our own.

I think that just about does it for my ramblings. Ciao


	$Pretty good, if a bit somber for my tastes.  Was damned difficult to
think of cute comments to throw in.  The foreshadowing issue has already
been delt with by people far more qualified than I, so I'll assume
you've taken care of it.

	So, what's next on the list?


-Ragun

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