Chapter 1: Crossed Paths

The streets were crowded that day, more than usual given the lateness of the season. The air was crisp and cold and the sky overcast with thick clouds, dark harbingers to the coming of the first snowfall. All around the townsfolk bustled about, hoping to get their shopping done quickly so that they could return to their homes. Their breath imitated the clouds as they gossiped, bargained, and argued with each other and the shopkeepers. They created quite a mist, as the city was small and everyone was anxious to share conversation and news before settling in for the winter.

I, too, will have to find someplace to settle, Himura Kenshin reminded himself, wandering aimlessly about the streets. His gaze drifted from shop to shop, seeing past them rather than the buildings themselves. He blindly took in the clothing, food, and antique stores that relentlessly peddled their wares; he had little interest in what was for sale, and an even smaller amount of money to pay for them. As a wanderer he had grown accustomed to living without trivial or unnecessary things, especially in the winter when work was scarce. Since it was often too snowy to travel during the late months he usually found an inn that was willing to let him work for food and shelter, and there stayed until the snows began to melt. And as spring came so too would he move, further south, until the seasons began anew.

"Hey, mister! Mister, with the sword!" called one of the street venders. "Are you interested in replacing those clothes of yours? I’ve got—"

"No, thank you," Kenshin replied politely. "I’m fine." He moved on quickly. Often he was noticed and called upon by the shop-owners—the sword he carried made him stick out like a flare, to say nothing of his unusual red hair and violet eyes. But most obvious of his appearance was the crossed scar on his left cheek. It was his mark; a reminder of older, painful days and even more painful memories. He was fortunate in that no one ever made comment of it to his face. Somehow their whispers, however, always reached his ears.

Two years….Only two years of wandering, and already I feel as if an eternity….But it can’t be helped. Kenshin paused suddenly, his attention drawn by a faint, very familiar odor. He turned his head sharply toward the smell. It was sweet and delicate, and yet his heart twisted sharply with recognition. He left the busy street to investigate the cause even as his senses instructed him otherwise.

The source was a small shop nestled between two larger ones: a perfume shop. Several samples had been placed on the window ledge where the keeper stood, speaking to the women that passed by. Kenshin approached slowly. The scent grew stronger, until he was standing before a small bottle labeled in carefully drawn letters: "White Plums."

"White plums, isn’t it?" asked a lady beside him. Kenshin tried to pay her no notice, convincing himself that he didn’t care, but the familiar scent held him, trapped by the sickness in his heart. He stared at the bottle, breathing in the fragrance as if, somehow, it could transcend reality and alter time for only a moment. As if it could make him remember every detail of the woman he’d once known who had worn such a perfume, even as he longed to forget.

"Yes. We don’t get many people to buy it, though. It’s not popular anymore."

"I see. It is a rather interesting fragrance though, isn’t it?"

The voice was familiar. Though Kenshin’s ears registered this fact, his mind did not.

"Well, will you buy it, then?"

The lady chuckled. "You’re a clever one. Actually, I’d like this one: the Lilly."

"Thank you very much."

The lady paid for her purchase, then tucked the vile into her kimono for safe-keeping. Only then did Kenshin turn to look, having returned somewhat from his brief reminiscences. His gaze was met by that of a beautiful woman with long, flowing dark hair, and eyes that were a deep oak-wood brown. She was wearing a kimono of night-sky blue, decorated with ornate pink cherry blossoms from top to bottom. Her features were sharp with her youth—they were features he recognized clearly.

She must have recognized him as well, for her eyes widened in surprise. "H-Himura! I mean, you are Himura, aren’t you?" Her lips quickly formed a grin. "It is you! I didn’t know you were in this city."

Kenshin stared back, too startled by her sudden appearance to speak right away. "You’re…Idaira Kimiko. I haven’t seen you for almost ten years." Idaira Kimiko had been Kenshin’s friend as a child, though even then they had rarely seen each other. His training under the hermit swordsman Hiko Seijuurou had prevented him from entering the town they shared very often. Seeing her now, after so long, was shocking.

"My goodness, you’ve aged," Kimiko went on, looking him over. Her gaze lingered momentarily at his scar, but she ignored it once she saw that it was making him uncomfortable. "But you still look the same, somehow. It’s so good to see you. Have you been living here for very long?"

He shook his head. He felt oddly nervous in her presence, and his heart leapt into his throat whenever she asked a question. He was afraid that she’d ask something he would not be able to easily answer. "No, not at all. I’ve…been wandering."

"As I can see." She plucked at his sleeve, indicating a tear that had been stitched. "Do you have a place to stay, yet?"

"Actually…no."

Kimiko smiled at him. It was strange to see it—he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had genuinely smiled at him in a pleased manner, not meant as a taunt. "Good. Why don’t you stay with me in my house? My husband is away, but I’m sure he won’t mind. Besides, I’m a bit lonely out there. Will you join me? I’d hate to think of you wandering out there when the snow falls."

Kenshin admitted silently that he himself shared such sentiments. Though it was against his morality to take advantage of her hospitality, logically she was solving the problem he’d pondered earlier. It would be a welcomed change to stay for a while with someone who knew him. More than that, a friend.

"Alright. I’m sorry for imposing."

"Of course not. You’ve been invited." She started away from the shop, with Kenshin just beside her. "I have to do some more shopping, anyway. Would you mind helping to carry some things?"

"Not at all." Kenshin followed her from shop to shop, gathering several food articles as well as paper and writing ink. The shopping didn’t take long, and soon they were on their way to the outskirts of the city. He was grateful that she didn’t live inside the city itself—if possible, he wished to avoid contacting many people. The winter months often weighed heavily upon his mind, and during such times he long for privacy above all else.

When the they reached Kimiko’s house, Kenshin nearly staggered in amazement at its size. "Kimiko-san," he stumbled, "this is your house?" It was two stories tall, twice the size of a normal dwelling in such a small city. How did she ever…?

"Yes, this is it." She led him up the path to the main room. "You see, I’m Ueda Kimiko, now." The tone of her voice changed ever so slightly as she said the name. "This is my husband’s house."

"Ueda?" Kenshin frowned, opening the panel for her to step inside. He slipped out of his sandals and followed. "But, I thought…"

Kimiko chuckled faintly. "Isn’t it ironic? After everything…I ended up marrying Ueda Shinjirou." She continued into the kitchen. "I would have liked to have married Aono, but he died near the beginning of the war. And since most of my family had died, my husband offered to marry me, and take care of our farm." She began to put away the groceries as she related the tale with a calm, unwavering voice, as if it had happened to someone other than her. "So, we agreed. That was several years ago. This house is only for the winter. My husband is still with the farm, settling everything before the snow falls. Thank you." She took the rest of the groceries from him and put them away as well.

So…Aono Shou is dead…. Kenshin took a moment for respectful silence. "I’m sorry about Aono. He was a good friend."

"Yes, he was."

Kimiko had just about finished the small chore when a young woman entered the kitchen. Her dark hair had been tied up with a piece of dirty cloth, and she was clothed in the simple outfit of a maid. "Oh, Kimiko-sama, what are you doing in here?" the maid asked. She paused when she saw Kenshin, and bowed deeply. Her tone changed to a very precise, practiced speech. "Forgive me, sir. I am my mistress’s servant, Minaya Jinko. Please tell me if I can ever be of any assistance to you." She rose again and faced her mistress, and instantly her voice returned to that of a flustered young maid. "Kimiko-san, why didn’t you send me on the errands? Ueda-sama told us to take care of everything."

"Oh, don’t be silly, Jinko." Kimiko smiled at the younger girl’s agitation. "I can take care of these simple things by myself. I did grow up a farmer’s girl, after all. Now, why don’t you make some tea for Himura and myself? We’ll take it in the next room." She began to lead Kenshin out of the kitchen. "And tell Saya and Ryuuka to prepare one of the guest rooms. Himura’s going to be staying with us for a while."

"Certainly, Kimiko-sama."

Kenshin followed, frowning thoughtfully to himself. "They treat you with great respect," he remarked.

"They treat me like an Empress," Kimiko complained in response as they moved into the next room. "As if I can’t handle anything without help. They forget that I spent my entire childhood working on a farm, and taking care of my grandfather." She chuckled. "Forgive me. I shouldn’t put my problems on you. You’re my guest, after all." She seated herself beside a small table in the center of the room.

"I don’t mind." He took a seat across from her on the flat cushions. "I haven’t seen you in so long."

"Yes, it has been long, hasn’t it?" She smiled warmly at him, and a bit of a blush entered her cheeks. "I feel so much older now. And you look like a man! How old are you now?"

Kenshin scratched the back of his head, hoping she wouldn’t notice that he was ticking off fingers with his other hand. "Um…twenty-one…I think…."

"That’s just like you to forget. But then, with the war, I’m sure everything seems a little odd."

He nodded just barely. His pulse quickened momentarily, having not expected her to mention the war so openly. Though for several years it had been his life, now he was anxious to leave such bitter memories behind. If possible, he wished that she would avoid the subject all-together.

"Kimiko-san," Kenshin spoke up, hoping to change the subject, "what happened to the village after I left? Is everyone well?"

Thankfully, she seemed to sense his need for a new topic to discuss. "The village hasn’t been quite the same in the past few years, but everyone is doing well. Just a few weeks ago Masahiro-san came to visit. He’s married now."

"Oh, really?"

They pair continued to talk, reminiscing about old times and laughing like the children each remembered the other to be. Kimiko shared many stories of her life with Ueda over tea; her girlish spirit seemed to have not waned at all over the years of her adult life. Though Kenshin could be prompted to entertain her with tales of his wanderer’s journeys, he danced about the subject of the war, as if the years of which were missing from his memory. She didn’t press him on the issue. He was a bit surprised that her curiosity was not more forceful on the matter—not once did she question his scar, or his duties during the fighting. When he realized that she had no intention of divulging his secrets, he found her very easy to talk to.

Several hours passed, and it was soon late in the evening. Kimiko’s maids served them dinner, though would not join them despite Kimiko’s request. "I try to include them," she confided in Kenshin later, "but they simply don’t understand my feelings. Even if there are so many of them about, I don’t feel as if I can talk to a single one of them. It’s as if I’m alone in this big house." She sighed, finishing the last bits of her meal. "That’s why I’m so glad you’re here. I’ll have someone to talk to during these cold months."

"The pleasure is mine, too." Kenshin also finished. "Shall we take care of the dishes ourselves, then?"

She giggled, as if he was suggesting something mischievous. "Jinko will be upset again."

"Well I, for one, have to earn my stay." He collected the dishes and started for the kitchen, his host right on his tail. They continued to talk as he washed the cups and bowls, dodging out of the way of the flustered and anxious maids. Kenshin found that he was smiling, as if they were playing a game. His face felt strange, reminding him of how long it had been when he’d smiled last.

"Here’s your room." Kimiko slid the panel open, revealing a well-kept guest room with a futon and extra blankets. "There’s a small oven in the corner, if it gets too cold in your room," she explained. "And a change of clothing, since yours are so…used." She chuckled, plucking at his outfit. "Another part of you that hasn’t changed. The bath room is just down the hall, and I’m sure Saya will prepare one for you if you need it."

"Thank you." Kenshin entered hesitantly. It had been a while since he’d stayed in as nice a room as this. Despite the many changes in his routine taking place, he was quickly beginning to enjoy it. The atmosphere here was pleasant, and warm; even seeing Kimiko’s face, so unchanged from the years when he’d known her, reminded him of happier, less burdened times. "I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, Kimiko-san."

"It’s nothing at all! Please, sleep well." Kimiko smiled, her cheeks reddening a bit again, and left him for the night.

To Next Chapter

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*If you haven’t read my Buddinski story, here’s the long and the short: Kimiko lived in the village near Hiko’s hut. She met Kenshin when he befriended several of the village children, (Aono, Masa, Tetsuo, Tetsuya). They went through so interesting times, but I’ll let you read that for yourselves. ^_^

--Croik