Nicky's A New Life
Part Four
Disclaimer: Obviously, I am not so brilliant as to think up wonderful characters like those in Rurouni Kenshin. That honor goes to Wasuki Nobuhiro alone. I also have no musical talent, so also obviously, I didn't write the song, "A New Life." That goes entirely to the two brilliant minds that make up the Pet Shop Boys.
Additional Thanks go to Todd Hill, who is my dear friend. His wonderful Ranma fanfic "Careful Destiny" is a large part of the inspiration for this story.
"I can feel the discomfort in your seat,
But in you head it's worse.
There's a pain, a famine in your heart,
An aching to be free... Can't you see?
All love's luxuries are here for you and me"
Depche Mode, Halo
Kaori leaned up against the slippery tile of the shower, as the too hot water poured over her, slicking her hair to her body and her face. The noise of the water was comforting to her; and it drowned out the sound of her sobs.
"Endless rain, fall on my heart, kokorono kisuni, let me forget all of the hate, all of the sadness...*" she sang quietly to herself. This song always comforted her, when nothing else could.
Why did that boy upset her so? But most of all, why did he seem so familiar to her? Normally when she turned a guy down for a date it wasn't anything to her. She was just protecting herself. But this time...
She felt like she'd been reunited with a long lost lover, only to tell him that she'd married someone else after they broke up. And if she didn't know better, Kevin had looked crushed.
She hated that expression. After getting away from him, she let herself cry, although she didn't really know why she was crying. Was it for her, or for Kevin?
She shouldn't be crying for herself anymore. Crying may make you feel better but it didn't change anything. Nothing could change what had happened, especially not crying. She let herself sink into a ball, and the water run over her. She stayed there, until the water went from steaming hot, to ice cold.
The freezing water sent her sputtering out of the shower to the safety of a fluffy warm bath towel. After briskly drying herself, and donning her robe, she padded barefoot down the hallway and returned to her room. Through her open window, the sky was dusky, blue and purple, and sprinkled with wayward clouds, still stained pink and red with the remnants of the sun. A few brave little stars had begun to peek out from under their soft night blanket, blinking their eyes sleepily as they prepared for their long night.
Such romantic metaphors, Kaori thought to herself. She didn't have time for anything like that. She had schoolwork, and she had Kendo practice, weather it be for her Kendo club or for her family's old Kenjitsu school. Her parents sometimes swore that she was born with a bokken in her hand. That always made her smile.
Born for the sword...that made her think of Kevin again. He had taken to Kendo like ducks take to water. He swore that he'd had never held a sword of any kind- wooden or otherwise- in his life. But there was a faint smile behind that statement, as if there was more to it then he was saying. His grips, stances, and swings were all perfect. She had only shown him everything once, and he'd absorbed them perfectly, as quickly as she could snap her fingers.
Later, she'd had him spar with one of the older members. Her first true shock came when she realized how fast he was. His only real problem was, that he handled the shinai as though he was used to something
heavier. What that something heavier would have been, she chose not speculate on. Besides that small over-balance, she'd think that he'd been practicing for years.
Kaori shook her head hard to clear wayward thoughts away. She had a long night of homework ahead of her and she needed to concentrate.
"What did you do to make her scream and run away from you?" Nicky huffed indignantly. No wonder his master had called him baka deshi. He was dumb after all.
"She didn't scream!" Kevin replied hotly "She just...ran." He finished lamely.
"Oh so she just RAN, he says! When someone runs from you, that means that they are scared. You of ALL people should know what it means when people run from you. I'm sure people used to run from you all the time! Are you on crack?" She was so baffled she couldn't think of anything else to say.
After a moment of silence, she asked tiredly "What did you say to her?"
"I just asked her if she wanted to get some coffee!" His voice rose in pitch defensively, and his reply came out almost as a squeak.
"And nothing else?" Nicky added threateningly.
"No, nothing at all! However, one of the other guys from the Kendo club said that she got burned pretty bad by an ex-boyfriend."
"Well then, it might not be you, even as unsmooth as you are." Nicky stated dryly with one eyebrow arched nearly into her hairline. "And another thing! How can you wear those jeans?"
Kevin looked down at the pair of jeans he was wearing curiously. "What's wrong with them?" he asked innocently, his face quizzical.
"What's wrong with them? They're HUGE!!" Nicky spread her arms wide, as if to indicate their size.
Kevin smiled pleasantly at Nicky's pole-axed expression. "Wearing these raver jeans is like wearing a hakama again. They fit about the same."
Nicky plucked at the cuff, and pulled it taut around his ankle. "That's gotta be around 32 inches...But I guess your right. I never thought of it that way. But back to Kaori. What are we going to do?"
Kevin shook his head helplessly. "I really don't know. Just wait and hope for the best?"
"You know, I think that's all you can do, at this point. Out-wait the enemy and all that rubbish. Anyway, my androgynous little friend, I need to go to sleep. Even Heavenly Guides need rest sometimes." She winked at him. "Don't worry sweetie, we'll figure something out. I've never failed a mission yet!" With that, Nicky snapped her fingers and disappeared in a picturesque cloud of smoke.
Kevin sighed, and lay back on his bedroom floor, his hands beneath his head. Life was never easy, was it?
This was a new experience for him. This was the first time that he was truly doing something all for himself. He wanted to help her because he loved her, and because that would bring her to him quicker. He felt horribly selfish, but it was a good feeling all at the same time.
Music. He needed thinking music. For some reason 'Kevin' seemed to function better when there was music on. He examined his collection, amazed by its sheer size. Kevin hadn't just liked shoes. He liked CDs too. Most of it was 80's British pop, with some gothic and industrial peppering the mix. The longer I live in Kevin's body, the weirder he seems to me, he thought, baffled at their differences, and even more confused by their
similarities.
Kevin's clothes suited him just fine- big worn raver jeans, ancient and soft pairs of cotton and wool slacks in somber colors like gray, navy and black. All of the shirts were loose, some brightly colored, some not. It was his shoes he didn't like. After a careful inspection of the shoe collection, he discovered something wonderful- a pair of worn-in leather fisherman sandals, which you HAD to wear with socks. Right up his alley.
It was odd though; this time didn't seem so foreign anymore. When he'd seen a car this morning he'd nearly jumped out of his skin. But on the way home he didn't even notice them at all.
He sighed and looked at his desk where his books were stacked. He had homework to do. He'd better get started, if he wanted to get to bed at a decent hour. But first he had to have music.
Music helped him think now- it was a 'Kevin' thing. He went down through the list. He settled on Once Upon a Time, by Siouxie and the Banshees. Time to start, Pre-Calc was waiting.
Only 20 minutes later a knock at his bedroom door interrupted him. His mother poked her head in and looked briefly around.
"Kevin, sweetie, what are you doing?"
"My Pre-Calc. This stuff is hard!" He threw his pencil down in frustration. "I need a calculator..."
"Kevin I didn't even know you could do Calculus!" Shock was evident on his mother's pretty face.
"Oh I have to learn Kana too, so I can read everything, but that's not too hard really."
"So I guess you had a good day at school then?" Shock turned into surprise gradually.
"Yeah, I did. I joined the Kendo club, and I met this really pretty girl too. I asked her out, but she turned me down. I'm gonna keep trying though. Her name is Kaori, she's the kendo club's captain."
"Wow, sweetie, that's wonderful! I'm going to leave you to your homework. Study hard!" She gave him a thumbs up.
"I will, mom."
His mom shut the door, and walked slowly down the stairs to where her husband sat in his favorite leather chair, watching TV in the family room.
"Honey, I just had a weird experience."
"What's that, Jenice?" Her husband asked without turning his eyes from the TV, the glare shining off his glasses in the dark.
"Kevin was doing his homework." Jenice replied, deadpan.
"He was actually doing homework? I wonder how badly they threatened him at school." Sarcasm dripped off the statement, like water off an oil-slicked surface.
"And he actually joined a school based athletic club too."
"That I don't believe."
"He did! Well, he told me he did. And he told me about a girl he was interested in too."
"KEVIN?? Interested in GIRLS? I never thought that would happen! I'll believe that when he brings her home, and we actually meet her."
&nbs;p "I'm willing to believe it, just because I've always wanted him to be normal. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, but...."
"Well as long as he's actually doing his school work I'll support him in whatever else he does as long as it's not drugs!"
"We can only hope for the best."
Later that night-
Myoujin Kaori slept, and in sleeping, dreamt. In her mind's eye, she saw a pretty red-haired man. He smiled at her, and did her laundry. He was a poor man, but was happy with his life. They all wanted to be like him.
They?
Yes, her and the rest of her family. None of them were related by blood, but all were her family, regardless. None of them stood out terribly, she simply remembered that she loved them all dearly.
Who was this red-haired man, that she could remember him, but not the rest of her family? It couldn't be simply that he was beautiful- although he most certainly was. His long red hair, so glossy in the sun, and she was certain that it was as soft and fine as the hair babies had on their head's when they were born. His purple eyes looked soft too- and they were earnest in whatever they expressed, weather it be joy, sadness, or the most extreme anger-
No, that wasn't right. When he was very angry, his eyes glowed yellow-
The only thing that marred his beauty, and kept him from looking completely feminine, was the harshly angular cross scar on his left cheek.
But that scar is gone now, and he is even more beautiful...
But he was dead- he died young, and he died with a smile on his face. She'd lived her life without him after that, and taking comfort in the serene smile that had been on his face when he'd left them. They'd taken his sword, which was as unique as he was, and enshrined it in the dojo, so that they could always feel him there-
It's still there, you know.
She missed him so much. She still loved him as much as she had all those years ago-
Yes, you still love him don't you? Go and be with him, and tell him.
&nbps;Yes, that sword was still in their dojo even after 120 years. There was a picture there as well, from when the founder of their dojo had taken them on a train to Yokahama-
How did I know that was where it was? How? HOW?
Kaori's eyes snapped open, and she looked around her room in confusion. She was too far off the ground-
A bed, not a Futon.
Her heart calmed slowly. Too slowly. Why was she scared? She was in her room, in her house, and nothing was out of place.
Then why does everything look different to me?
-Because it is different-
&nbps;She briskly shook her head. This had to be her imagination. She was hearing voices. This couldn't be happening. She scrambled out of bed, and slid her feet clumsily into her slippers, even while struggling into her bathrobe.
She rushed through the old rice-paper hallways of her turn of the century house, and out, to the walkway the led through the yard and into the dojo. Once there, she went to a small recess that had been built into the right wall.
There, sitting serenely on its stand was that man's sword. She walked by this sword 3 or 4 times a day, and it had never seemed particularly interesting before. Her mother swore that it was evil- she didn't know why. Her father would never touch it, except to clean it. To him it was sacred. He knew who this sword belonged to. He had once told her when she was small, that as long as that sword was here, that this dojo and who ever lived here would always be safe.
Although she never had before, she believed him now.
And now as she knelt before it, she saw for the first time, the small yellowed photograph. There were four people in it; one was a tall man with spikey hair, who looked like he's just been poked in the rear with something sharp. Also there was a small boy, who's hair much resembled that of the tall man, and next to him sat a girl- no, a young woman- in what would have been a beautiful kimono. Her parent's had often told her that
she resembled this woman, Kamiya Kaoru, who had left this dojo to her great great grandfather, Myoujin Yahiko, when she died. The photo was so old, that she could hardly make out the floral pattern on the kimono. And next to her-
-Was that man. Scar, hair, sword, and all. He was smiling, and it was a sweet smile.
Where had she seen that smile before? Everything about this man was so familiar. Like she'd known him herself.
Behind the sword, and under the photo was an urn, which held his ashes. According to the antique dealers that her mother had tried to sell it to, both the sword, and the urn were worth a fortune. The sword, not simply because it was old, but because of who this man was, and because of who made it, but most especially because it was totally unique. The urn because of who made it- some famous potter who had lived outside Kyoto
at the time- and also because of who's ashes it contained.
Kaori had never been told why this sword was unique. It looked like every other katana she'd ever seen. The cloth on the grip was disintegrating with age, and she wasn't sure the last time the sword had been cleaned. She knew her father cleaned it- she just wasn't sure when.
She felt like a thief as she reached forward to take the mouldering grip in one hand, the hard and polished wood of the saya in her other. Lifting it carefully from its stand, she unsheathed it to inspect the blade.
A gasp escaped her, and left her lungs screaming for air that she couldn't draw. The sharp side was on the inner curve instead of the outer!
"Could I kill anyone with this?"
"The blade is on the wrong side! And there are no scratches- why, it's practically brand new!"
&nbps; She let her gaze slid to the hilt. The bolt was loose...probably with age...
"The loose bolt is why Shishou is alive- it allowed the blade to give just enough. If not, the ougi would have killed him."
Kaori looked at the sword in horror. It was -talking- to her! She quickly resheathed it and set it back on its stand. -Looking- at it was comforting, but she didn't want to touch it.
After long moments of looking at the strange sword-
Sakabatou.
She realized that there was a gap in her memory. She could recall almost everything about this man. But she couldn't remember his name! She was certain her father had told her multiple times, but she couldn't recall it to save her life.
She continued to stare at the sword in hope that it would somehow jog her memory. Eventually, Kaori simply shook her head, and got up to go back to bed.
Reaching forward to slide the old wooden door back in its runners, Kaori paused and turned to look back around the darkened dojo.
"If you must leave, will you at least tell me your name?"
"Kenshin. Himura Kenshin"
Frozen at the strange voices echoing eerily through the large room, her eyes moved hastily over the walls, and familiar wall hangings. There is no one here but you, she told herself, trying desperately not to loose the battle to remain calm.
She was losing. She'd only been this terrified once before in her life. The scream welled up in her throat, even while she tried to smother it. Eyes and fists clenched tight, she curled into a ball and leaned against the wall, and tried to take control of the situation again. After a moment, and a few deep breaths, she straightened up, and squared her shoulders. When no more strange voices floated out of the old walls, she sighed, and left the dojo, and hurried back to the relative safety of her bedroom.
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