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tampered2007-12-21 08:44 am
foxy-physician.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-12-21 08:44 am
Log; Complete
When; Late evening of Thursday, December 20th, sometime after this.
Rating; PG to PG-13
Characters; Takani Megumi [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foxy_physician] and Akechi Mitsuhide [silk_in_ebony]
Summary; She did not want to be alone anymore.
Leave me out with the waste . . .
This is not what I do.
It's the wrong kind of place
To be thinking of you.
It's the wrong time
For somebody new . . .
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse.
Is that alright?
Log;
Her hands were shaking when she knocked at his door. It was late at night, she knew, and it was perhaps a poor excuse to say that she was coming to see to his health—but a physician’s work was never constrained to the hours of daylight, she knew, so perhaps no one would question her or her motives excessively. Besides, Mitsuhide-san needed the assistance, and she was more than happy to give it.
She needed an occupation, or she would run herself into madness.
“Mitsuhide-san?” she called out, her voice steady, belying the tremor in her hands.
She looked down at the sleeves of her kimono, the heavy brocade dampened and darkened by the snowfall.
She could always say that she was trembling from the cold.
Rating; PG to PG-13
Characters; Takani Megumi [
foxy_physician] and Akechi Mitsuhide [silk_in_ebony]Summary; She did not want to be alone anymore.
Leave me out with the waste . . .
This is not what I do.
It's the wrong kind of place
To be thinking of you.
It's the wrong time
For somebody new . . .
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse.
Is that alright?
Log;
Her hands were shaking when she knocked at his door. It was late at night, she knew, and it was perhaps a poor excuse to say that she was coming to see to his health—but a physician’s work was never constrained to the hours of daylight, she knew, so perhaps no one would question her or her motives excessively. Besides, Mitsuhide-san needed the assistance, and she was more than happy to give it.
She needed an occupation, or she would run herself into madness.
“Mitsuhide-san?” she called out, her voice steady, belying the tremor in her hands.
She looked down at the sleeves of her kimono, the heavy brocade dampened and darkened by the snowfall.
She could always say that she was trembling from the cold.
no subject
There was a knock as the door, and the sound of Megumi's voice calling his name.
"Ah! Coming!" he said, standing up again and attempting to tidy himself up a little so he didn't look so ill.
Reflecting that it was a good job it wasn't his right hand he'd hurt, Mitsuhide opened the door with a gentle smile.
"Megumi-san, come in... quickly," he said, moving aside from the door to let her in and hoping he didn't sound too hoarse. "Don't want you catching a cold..."
no subject
She took his hand gently in hers and inspected it. The bandage had been applied properly, much to her satisfaction.
“What happened, Mitsuhide-san?” she inquired softly. She allowed her touch to linger. “And you’re warm . . .” She looked up at him with concern.
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Mitsuhide looked somewhat embarassed. He was supposed to be a graceful warrior, not somebody who could trip up and cut through their hands without anything actually there to trip over. The fact that he was ill didn't mean much to him in that regard. He was ill a lot. It shouldn't affect his poise.
"And the warmth is just the last flush from the heatstroke," he continued, now noticing her lack of lipstick and wondering. "I assure you, I am fine..."
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Not that it mattered at the moment.
She had neither of them at the moment.
Ruthlessly clearing her thoughts with disgust, she focused on her companion at hand. He looked so embarrassed that she smiled despite herself. He really was sweet. Like . . .
She would not go there.
“Have you taken anything for your fever, Mitsuhide-san?” she inquired gently, reaching up to press a hand gently against the crook of his neck.
no subject
The slight sadness around her smile had not been missed by him, but the mention of water stirred a basic biological need in his body, and he turned round, running straight from the sink. This time he chose one of those odd, but unbreakable, 'plastic' cups, filled it with water and downed it in seconds. This over, he turned round and gave her an apolegetic smile.
"...as you can see," he chuckled. "Much better... see? I've been ordered to stay here until I'm better and am being closely watched. So... yes. I'm fine."
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She stifled a bitter laugh.
As a doctor, so many expected miracles from her—like her sutures and her splints could easily replace broken tissue and heal fractured bone. But she knew that it was not the case, and that the human body could only take so much.
And it frustrated her to no end that they still insisted on taking the abuse.
She did not want to end up alone anymore.
Turning back to Mitsuhide, she gave him a soft smile. “Well, I don’t want to keep you standing . . . Perhaps you ought to return to bed,” she suggested mildly. “I can make you some tea, if you’d like.” She paused. “Though do you have a hearth or a place where I can dry my clothing? I’m rather soaked, and I don’t want to catch pneumonia—otherwise, Mitsuhide-san won’t have me to see to him!”
no subject
He gestured towards the strange, heat-creating device. Something was definitely up with Megumi. Some kind of... sadness? Was he reading it wrong? No; he was sure this time. It made his heart twist, and he could feel that aura of protectiveness wash over him. It was instinctive; Mitsuhide, the Protector.
What should he do now, then?
"Please, don't worry about making tea," he said, walking towards his room and smiling. "I'll... go to bed. Dry yourself off and then you can check up on me, if you like."
At that moment, he slipped into his chambers, sighing softly and laying on his bed.
[ooc: AIM has died for good, but I'm still here. XD]
no subject
She shook her head. She was overreacting. He was going to be fine.
Sighing, she moved to the radiator that Mitsuhide had mentioned. Her trembling fingers made difficult work of the ties of her haori, but she soon managed to shrug off the article of clothing. It was quite saturated with water, but it had protected her kimono from a lot of the snow. Pulling a kitchen chair close to the radiator, she laid the heavy brocade onto it, leaving it to dry.
The hem of her kimono was still quite wet, but she supposed that she could deal with that later.
She lingered a moment before the warmth of the radiator, allowing her sleeves to dry, before making Mitsuhide the promised tea. He had a well-stocked pantry, and she selected what seemed to be his favorite tea.
Balancing a tray with tea cups and the pot atop it, she proceeded to his room.
no subject
Had she come over to check him over, or... did she need comfort? Mitsuhide was sure she was in pain of some kind, and he hated the feeling that she was hurting. Megumi was a good soul, a welcome friend in the City, and he cared. Nobody should have to hurt. Not while he was around.
When she walked in with the tray, he looked up through ebony strands and smiles.
"You didn't have to," he chuckled. "Though... it is very welcome..."
no subject
She sat beside him lightly on his bed, unwittingly needing and craving the touch and proximity of another who cared for her, who made her feel loved.
“You have lovely hair, Mitsuhide-san,” Megumi said, reaching out to touch the silken strands, threading her fingers through them. “Just like—”
She noticed her slip, and bit down upon her lip, almost angrily. She was thinking of him again, and of how his copper-red hair felt when she combed it away so that she could dress his wounds.
Had she lost her meaning to him?
She shook her head slightly, continuing to comb her fingers through Mitsuhide’s ebon hair.
She was with Mitsuhide.
Everything else did not—and should not—matter.
no subject
"Megumi-san..." he said, voice deep, gentle and caring. "Don't deny it to me. You're hurting... do you want to share with me?"
His face was a picture of concern and compassion. It was sincere, too. He was never anything less than honest with others, if not always with himself.
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A million thoughts surged through her at his words—ruminations of abandonment, hope, love, happiness, longing . . .
She trembled in their wake, and she lowered her head and hid her eyes beneath the fall of her own raven hair, her emotions threatening to inundate her.
“I-I’m fine, Mitsuhide-san,” she said, the hand in his trembling ever-so-slightly. “I just worry about you, that’s all—But aside from that, I’m happy . . .”
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His voice was filled with empathy; with concern and gentle affection. People often used that voice on him when he got ill, but when people he cared for were like thus... it came from his own lips, seeking to soothe and help.
He grippd her hand more firmly.
"And I won't let you feel this pain alone. Tell me... share, Megumi-san. I don't abandon people I care about."
no subject
Something inside her broke at those words, and the tears that she had struggled to keep inside for so long finally spilled forth and ran down her cheeks in streaks of silver.
He left without saying goodbye.
“I truly am happy, Mitsuhide-san . . . It’s just that . . . how can one feel so happy and yet so lost all at once?”
On impulse, driven by loneliness and longing, she reached out to him, wrapping her trembling arms about his neck and pulling herself close.
Please, she almost whispered into his hair, I don’t want to be alone anymore . . .
no subject
"It's... hard to understand, isn't it?" he whispered soothingly. "But a part of being human... of needing comfort, friendship, a sense of belonging... we might know joy from some things, but that does not mean there is not more that we need... we all feel this sometimes... even me..."
no subject
She had meant what she had said; she was happy. She was happy that two of her friends had found happiness in one another and were starting life together anew. But a fear niggled at the back of her mind: would they still have time for her? Would they still hold her in the same esteem as they had back then—as a part of their family—now that they were building their own?
She shook her head. Of course they will, she told herself. They’re not the kind to forget . . .
Perhaps her fears were irrational.
But Kenshin had once walked away from her without saying goodbye.
Would he ever do so again?
The tears came again.
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It occured to him that he'd been unconsciously singing. His mother's song, the one she'd always sung for him when he was younger. He felt a little embarassed at this despite the situation, but shrugged it off.
Megumi. Concentrate on her. On her. She needs you right now.
[ooc: Sorry, missed a tag. >_>]
no subject
She heard Mitsuhide’s song through her tumultuous thoughts, and it comforted her—reminded her of family and love and friendship and warmth.
Suddenly, she was grateful—grateful that despite the oddness of the situation, despite her misgivings and her flaws and her uncertainties—she had someone who held her and offered her safety and love.
“Thank you, Mitsuhide-san,” she whispered through her tears, vulnerably, her voice wavering. “For being here for me.”
For reminding me that family can still exist in a place like this.
She pressed her cheek against his neck. “Can I please stay here with you tonight?” she asked softly.
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He meant it. He did not see the offering of such comfort as anything less than what good, noble man should do for one they cared about. When she made her request, Mitsuhide nodded slightly.
"...of course you may. Of course..."
No way would he leave her alone right now, anyway. Not after this sorrow, not after the tears... Megumi needed someone to make sure she was alright. Mitsuhide knew that keenly. Even if she had insisted on going back to her apartment, he would have walked her back and stayed until he was sure she was okay.
no subject
Whispering her thanks once again, she allowed Mitsuhide to hold her, finding warmth and refuge within his embrace. Her tears had not yet been spent, and she knew that perhaps it would take a while for her wounds to truly heal. They had scarred her for many a year, since that fateful day that her father had left, and she had watched Aizu burn to the ground from a distance, knowing that her family was lost to those flames forever—and she had only borne more hardships and trials since then.
But as of the moment, she was in the company of a good friend, and that was all that mattered.
She was not alone.