Disclaimer: None of it is mine.

A/N: Here it is, the final chapter, and more than two years after this fic started. I apologize for the long wait, but I think it was necessary in order to find the 'right' ending to this story. I think I have found it.

I would like to give a humongous thanks to my patient, helpful, wonderful beta Khrysalis. This fic would not be what it is without your help.

And one last note before you begin: This fanfic has been nominated for the RKRC awards in the category of 'new character.' Today is the LAST DAY for fanfics to qualify for these awards so please, if you enjoyed this fanfic and think it deserves to compete, visit the RKRC site and second the nomination. The link is on my profile.

Thank you everyone for your comments, critiques and support!

"If you want rainbows, you have to put up with the rain." -Dolly Parton

8. The long vigil of the dojo occupants had begun, and would continue long into the moonless night and the early light of the morning. Megumi fussed by Tokio’s beside, simultaneously reassuring her and making sure she was as comfortable as possible. There was something to be said for Megumi’s devotion to her job—for surely no other reason would bring the fox doctor to remain in such close proximity with an awful man like Hajime Saitou. For his part, Saitou was doing his best in a situation entirely unfamiliar to him. True, he was pale and a good deal quieter than usual, but he stayed by Tokio, allowing her to grip his hand in her pain.

The rest of them, Kenshin, Naruku, Hitomi and Sano, kept to hovering around the edges of the room, occasionally leaving and coming back with more pillows or food for the rest of them. Hitomi seemed particularly concerned for her sister’s welfare, for she kept rushing over at unexpected times to wipe Tokio’s forehead with the wet cloth that Megumi had provided.

“Are you sure this is right? Is this what it’s supposed to be like?” Hitomi asked frantically, the third time she’d taken the cloth from Megumi.

“Yes. I keep telling you, I know what I’m doing. Tokio is fine, this is all normal,” Megumi replied for what must have been the twelfth time. The annoyance was evident in her voice despite all of Megumi’s efforts to remain impassive.

“It’s just…she’s in so much pain. Can’t you do something? How can you—how can you just—”

“Megumi already told you, everything’s fine! She’s a doctor and a damn good one at that so just listen to her and stop yelling at her when she’s doing nothing wrong!” Sano cried from the far side of the room, where he sat cross-legged beside Kenshin.

Hitomi seemed startled at his outburst and glanced back over at Megumi.

“Never mind that,” Megumi said wearily to Hitomi’s unspoken apology.

Hitomi handed the white cloth back to Megumi and retreated to the corner of the room nearest to Tokio, but still a good distance away. This position gave her full view of the room, including Kenshin who was speaking in an undertone to Sano, Naruku gone from his side.

The two men abruptly stopped speaking when the young woman entered the room again, her arms laden with bento boxes. Her long absence had gone almost unnoticed by everyone else, but now that she had turned up with food, much of the attention of the room was now focused on her. Hitomi in particular watched as Kenshin stood at Naruku’s side and relieved her of three of the boxes. They exchanged a quiet word before Naruku tottered off to distribute the remaining four meals. Megumi thanked her quietly and put the food down beside her for later. Saitou said nothing, staring ahead stoically as Naruku set two by his side.

Hitomi couldn’t help feeling a little bit surprised when she saw Naruku making her way to her, the last meal held in her two hands.

“Here,” Naruku said, holding the box out before her as a sort of offering to Hitomi.

Hitomi took it, muttering a small thanks in return. She sat down and opened the box, breaking apart the wooden chopsticks within. She was poised to pick up one of the inari sushi pieces when she noticed Naruku had not moved from her place.

Hitomi glanced up at the younger girl who seemed to sway unsurely for a moment but then turned and walked back to Kenshin and Sano (the former had politely refrained from eating his food until she came back, but Sano was all too keen to start on his). Hitomi watched Naruku sit down between the two men, forming a sort of triangle between them. Hitomi turned back to her food, pursuing it with more vigor than was strictly necessary.

If Hitomi thought that Kenshin and Naruku were talking about her, or even themselves for that matter, she was very much mistaken. The topic of conversation had not strayed from Tokio all night and it was clear it wasn’t going to.

“Megumi knows what she’s doing,” Sano keep saying over and over, in one breath.

“I know that, Sano,” Naruku said patiently as another one of Tokio’s anguished cries pierced the near-silence. Naruku could practically feel Saitou’s hand tightening around his wife’s.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” Sano answered.

“We know,” Naruku said, with a smidgen less tolerance. “I’m not worried. Tokio’s a fighter—well, not in the literal sense I suppose, but in the sense that a little childbirth isn’t going to harm her.”

“I’m sure Satiou would say differently, though,” Kenshin said, attempting to calm his young friend with some humor, as Naruku’s logic didn’t seem to be doing the trick.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Naruku asked, turning to Kenshin with her eyes wide. “You don’t think Saitou thinks Tokio’s going to be hurt, do you?”

“Oro? Of course not, Naruku! I just meant I didn’t think Saitou would agree that Tokio isn’t a fighter in the literal sense—I think this pregnancy brought out a side of her that Saitou wasn’t aware of.”

Sano gulped suddenly, glancing quickly over to Megumi.

“What is it Sano? You got something to tell us?” Naruku asked, feigning concern and trying to suppress a grin that was threatening to spread over her face.

“What? No, nothing…” Sano said distractedly, and Naruku allowed herself the tiniest of giggles and a coy glance at Kenshin.

“She’s sure holding up well,” Kenshin said, catching the glance Naruku had given and attempting to dissuade her from tormenting Sano any.

“Who?” Sano asked, his eyes still trained on Megumi, who had just risen for the first time in what must have been hours.

She turned and caught Sano’s eye before taking a deep breath and saying to the entire room, “She’s got ten centimeters. I think it’s time.” Another cry of pain escaped Tokio—they’d been getting quite a deal more frequent in the last half-hour or so.

Then Megumi’s eyes swept around the room and she said, “I would prefer if just Saitou remained in here for the actual delivery. However, if you’d like to stay Hitomi, it is not my place to deny you. You are her sister and the soon-to-be aunt of her child.”

“It’s…fine. I can go,” Hitomi said meekly, getting up and following Sano, Kenshin and Naruku out the door.

“Wow, after all that waiting she kicks us out for the exciting bit,” Sano said, kicking idly at the ground as they exited the dojo.

“It’s hardly exciting Sano,” Naruku said. “Maybe you won’t call it ‘exciting’ when it’s your wife in pain there.”

“What?” Sano asked, stared at Naruku in what could only be described as panic.

“In fact, I don’t know if I’d stay even if she did let us,” Naruku continued, ignoring Sano’s peculiar reaction.

“Oh no? I thought that’s what you wanted,” Hitomi said quietly. It was one of the first direct statements she’d made toward Naruku since their tussle in the dojo earlier that day.

Naruku stared at Hitomi and replied simply, “No, I guess I don’t really have the stomach for that kind of thing.”

It was Sano who replied. “Are you kidding me?”

Naruku shook her head. “I mean, I know I’m probably going to go through the same thing some day but I guess it’s different if it’s you, you know?”

“Yeah, but I mean you’ve witnessed, like, people’s blood and guts and stuff spilling out onto the street,” Sano said rationally as they strolled toward the house.

Naruku made a face at him. “Classy, Sano, really classy. ‘Blood and guts and stuff.’ Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes at her tall friend and playfully smacked him.

Despite the light airiness of this exchange, Hitomi was perturbed beyond belief. She glanced from Sano to Naruku and then over to Kenshin who was walking off to the side, quite content with his own thoughts it seemed.

“Well it’s true!” Sano contested as Naruku made another swipe for him. “I mean, you totally kept your cool that time Kenshin was practically bleeding to death—? And you think you can’t handle someone giving birth?”

“It’s just different,” Naruku replied stoutly, crossing her arms as they walked up the stairs to the house. “And don’t bring that up Sano—honestly, the last thing we need on a day like this is the reminder of a day like that.”

Sano patted Naruku on the shoulder apologetically and crossed the threshold with her, Kenshin not far behind them. Hitomi, on the other hand, remained outside, her mind reeling. What was this talk of Naruku witnessing what was the darkest image Hitomi could conjure of the Bakamatsu? How had she seen Kenshin bleeding half to death? It was true, Sano had probably been exaggerating about it, but it could not be far from the truth if Kenshin had not denied it. What had happened to Kenshin since they had last met, Hitomi wondered, and how much of it was Naruku a part of?

Hitomi shook her head fervently. She’d been through this before. Naruku was a part of Kenshin’s life, whether Hitomi liked it or not, but she was still just a part. Whereas Hitomi knew, knew in the way she knew her own pain, that she, Hitomi, was Kenshin’s life, that she represented who he had been, who he had become and who he was. How could she not, being as close to him as she was? Being the only one who’d been through the same thing as him—the same battles, the same repentance, the same long ten years apart…

But that was it, wasn’t it? Those ten years weren’t really the same, and what Hitomi had learned in them was not what Kenshin had. Was that what Naruku had been trying to tell her in the dojo? That she really didn’t understand Kenshin, that he really didn’t care for her in the way she thought he did? And then… ‘You are hurting Kenshin by being here, Miss Yamazaki…’ what had that meant? How could she be hurting Kenshin, she loved him!

Putting a shaking hand to the side of her face, Hitomi walked up the steps and entered the house, slipping quietly into the guest room without being detected by the others who, by the sound of things, had all gone to the kitchen to finish their wait.

Questions about her, about Kenshin, and most peculiarly about Naruku, tore at Hitomi’s mind as she sat down on the floor of her room. Her confusion mixed with her apprehension for Tokio almost overwhelmed Hitomi and she felt as though she’d just run five miles and leaned against the door to catch her breath. She let herself become entangled with her thoughts and questions and then finally, it seemed for the first time, Hitomi saw truth. She knew what she had to do.

It was roughly twenty minutes later when she was found in this position by Sano, who slid the door open without invitation and glanced at her slumped form.

“Kenshin reckons it’s over now. He thought we’d go back to the dojo together and greet the little new guy.”

Hitomi mustered enough energy to get off the floor, but didn’t say anything to Sano as she walked past him into the hall, where Kenshin and Naruku stood. Smiles lit their faces upon sight of her and somehow that reassured Hitomi.

“Come on,” Naruku said gently and the four of them returned outside again, crossing the yard toward to dojo.

They heard the squalling of a baby long before they reached the doorway, which had been thrown open—either in celebration or in attempts to let a cool breeze draft into the dojo was unclear.

Naruku, Kenshin and Hitomi rushed in, Sano behind them. They sped toward Tokio, who lay, looking exhausted but undeniably delighted with the small bundle and tuft of hair in her arms. The next minutes were filled with laughter and happy chatter as everyone cooed over the new baby (“a newborn son!” Saitou had exclaimed with rather uncharacteristic glee) and the sun rose behind them.

About ten minutes passed, after which Megumi ordered Sano to fetch Saitou, Tokio and the newly christened Saburo a carriage to take them back to the Fujita manor. It was clear that both mother and father needed a long, deep sleep and little Saburo seemed to be quickly dozing himself.

“But how can he be sleepy?” Naruku exclaimed, smiling brightly. “He’s just come into existence!”

“I suppose coming into existence is a rather tiring process,” Kenshin replied smiling at her in return.

As Naruku laughed, Hitomi stood suddenly, her fists clenched. Everyone except for Saitou and Tokio (much too preoccupied with their new son) fell silent at this sudden movement from Hitomi.

“Kenshin,” Hitomi said in a somber voice. The smile faded off of Naruku’s face instantly. “I was hoping to have a word with you outside.”

Kenshin stood up, his face imperceptible, and followed Hitomi out of the dojo.

As soon as they had rounded the corner to stand in the shadow of the dojo, Hitomi turned to him.

“Kenshin,” she said again, her resolve unwavering. “Do you love me?”

Kenshin’s expression did not change, though it was clear in the way he shifted his weight how much the question unsettled him. He was silent for a beat, then another. Too long. Hitomi’s bright, shining gaze faltered. “Miss Hitomi—”

“Don’t,” she said quietly, shaking her head and lowering her gaze, hardening herself against the needless pity in Kenshin’s eyes.

But despite her refusal to hear it, Kenshin persisted. “Miss Hitomi, I will not lie to you. I have known of your feelings for a long time now. I should have been forthright with you from the beginning. For that, I am sorry.”

Hitomi opened her mouth to respond, but she felt a pressure like rushing water in her throat and knew if spoke, she would start to cry. This feeling of vulnerability was something she had not experienced since that fateful morning, ten years ago, when she woke up to discover Kenshin had gone. Weakness, that’s what this was. Kenshin’s rejection had made her weak, and Hitomi hated it. She hated him for it.

“You…left me,” Hitomi said, her unshed tears soaking her voice. “I needed you, and you left me!”

Kenshin shook his head slowly, staring at her, the faintest traces of pity in his eyes. “You never needed me, Miss Hitomi. My burden was my own, and at the time I left you, I was beginning to realize that. I could no longer share my sins with another if I was to truly find repentance.”

“Our burden was the same, Kenshin! Do you forget that I was a hitokiri too, that I lied, seduced and killed for the restoration?” Hitomi snapped, wounded more by the pity in Kenshin’s eyes than his actual words.

Kenshin shook his head yet again. “I do not forget, Hitomi. You had your own battles to fight. If I know one thing from all my travels, Miss Hitomi, it is that you must find your own path to happiness. I do not regret leaving you. But I must thank you for the time you spent with me, and the devotion you gave to this unworthy soul. It made my seven years of solitude easier, I think, and it allowed me to open my heart up to a new home when the time came.”

“You found happiness with her,” Hitomi said. It was meant to be biting and bitter, but when the words left her lips she only sounded resigned. “With that girl…Naruku. And you couldn’t find it with me.”

Kenshin bowed his head. “Perhaps. Perhaps I could have found happiness with you. I don’t have all the answers. I never have.”

Hitomi looked up at him, all the anger, bitterness and resentment drained from her. She saw Kenshin for the first time, not as a man who could lead her to salvation, not as the key to her own inner-peace, but as a man, as scarred and troubled as any, who was trying to find his way in the world. He didn’t have all the answers, and it wasn’t until this moment that Hitomi realized she always thought he did.

“And she…Naruku…she has…healed you? She has given you happiness?”

“Naruku has had her own demons to face over the years, and I have had mine. The best we can do is stay true to our beliefs and try to move on,” Kenshin told her kindly.

There was silence for a moment, Hitomi thinking very hard about Kenshin’s words. Move on.

“I will return to the manor with my sister. I need to leave here,” Hitomi said directly. “I came here hoping…hoping that all of my wishes and hopes would come true. That you would be as devoted to me as I was to you. It never occurred to me that you might…find peace elsewhere, because I never had. These past ten years were nothing more than a waiting period for me, a time of anguish and hopelessness. I can see now that, for you, these ten years were more important than any other. More important than the years of the war. Those ten years allowed you to become what you are now. To find repentance and even happiness. The things I never gave a chance, so convinced as I was that the key to it all was you. So I am leaving now, now that I know the truth. I hope to find my own happiness, to find what you have here with your friends and…" Hitomi closed her eyes briefly.

She had never done this much talking, this much soul bearing in her life. She had never trampled on her own pride and dignity like this. "And with Naruku. I may not like her, and I may not understand why you love her, but I do know that when I am gone, you will find peace with her. Please, please cherish it, because not all of us are so lucky.”

Kenshin's expression, which had remained as close to impassive as anything, suddenly changed and became one of concern, surprise and compassion.

But there was no pity. And that made Hitomi realize that this was dignity. By letting go of all of her pride and pretence, Hitomi felt a tiny measure of peace and contentedness inside. And that gave balm to her wounds more than any of Kenshin's smiles or kind words ever had.

“Miss Hitomi,” Kenshin said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Hitomi moved her eyes across him and finally rested on his smiling face. “Our paths will cross again, of that I am sure. And when they do, I have no doubt in my mind that you will be happy.”

Hitomi bowed her head. She herself was not so sure, but her propensity to trust Kenshin made her believe it. She smiled and Kenshin’s hand left her shoulder, allowing her to move forward.

And standing there, in front of her, was her sister, Hajime, Naruku, Sano and Megumi. Hitomi walked toward them and stopped in front of Naruku, surprising the girl.

“I think…I understand now, what you were trying to tell me. I came here in the hopes that I could finally be made whole again. These past ten years, I have been clinging to Kenshin, to the one thing that I had been able to count on for those chaotic years of the war. I was never able to heal myself from the trauma of my past because I thought I needed him.”

“Hitomi—I…” Naruku was at a loss for what to say. It seemed so unlikely that Hitomi would give up what she'd been hoping for so easily, just like that, as if she'd never wanted it at all. After all that time of maintaining that Naruku was just a silly little girl, Hitomi was taking what she had said very seriously.

"You don't have to say anything. I know now I was stupid to think I was the only one who had any sort of past with Kenshin—it's clear you've been through a lot with him as well. And you—both of you—look all the better for it,” Hitomi said, and there was a compassion, a softness to her voice that Naruku had not heard before. “You are not a fighter like us, and so I thought you could never understand Kenshin. But perhaps I was wrong—perhaps you understand him better than I possibly could because of that. I still love him, a great deal, but he is not mine to love.”

This woman’s heart was broken, but for the first time she looked like she was ready to heal.

“Thank you, Hitomi,” Naruku said seriously. “You have given Kenshin much, I think. If people like you and I can move on and heal from our past mistakes, it helps Kenshin to accept the part of him that made mistakes, too. I love him too, I’m sure you know. I can only hope it is enough.”

“Hitomi!” came the sweet sound of Tokio's voice from behind Naruku. “The carriage is here!”

Both women glanced back at the beaming Tokio and then at each other again.

“You and Kenshin will be very happy together,” Hitomi said, and she meant it.

Naruku shrugged and laughed. “There’s no way of knowing. But thank you. And good luck.”

And then Naruku stepped aside, allowing Hitomi to go on toward her sister and the newborn baby at her breast. She felt, suddenly, as though she and Saburo were of one spirit—both newly released into the world with clear eyes and a whole future ahead of them.

August 4, 1890

Hakodate

Hitomi wiped a palm across her sweating forehead. The summer heat had settled with fury, even in the northern island of Japan it was sweltering. But she couldn’t help but feel happy as people and children of all ages milled about, strolling along the stone path of the seaport and eating soft cream.

“Come to the Ikaya! Fresh squid caught by local fishermen! Sushi, sashimi, tempura! Squid ink soft cream!” the light, clear voice of Rio reached Hitomi’s ears.

Smiling slightly, Hitomi headed toward her young friend and the squid restaurant which she advertised.

“Miss Hitomi!” Rio said as she caught sight of her. “Good afternoon.”

“The same to you,” Hitomi said. “Have you seen Minoru? He said he was coming here this afternoon.”

Rio shook her head. “I’m sorry Hitomi, he hasn’t been around yet. But I’m sure he’ll show up soon. You can wait for him here.”

Hitomi considered for a moment and then nodded her acquiescence. She and Rio chatted casually about the festival and other pleasing topics as they watched the sun descend into the horizon, casting an orange glow all around them. The people, a mix of cheerful locals and excited tourists, passed them with smiles and nods, some stopping to try a sample of squid from Rio’s plate.

“Ika ika ika o-dori!” a loud, cheerfully voice hollered out through the crowd. Hitomi’s eyes skillfully scanned the mass of people and rested on a little boy, no more than seven, his arms outstretched in front of him as he did a sort of hopping dance. He was easy enough to spot in the crowd, as his hair was a peculiar shade—a bright blazing red like the sun late in the day.

“That’s not how you do it, stupid, Ichiro-san taught us like this!” A little girl beside him demonstrated a loping sort of spin, her arms held aloft. She, too, had unusual coloring—though her hair was a paler shade than the boy’s.

“You look like a squid!” the boy laughed, grabbing the girl’s wrist and tugging it so she lost balance.

“Nao!” wailed the little girl as the boy darted in front of her, evading her angry swipes.

The two children were coming closer to the Ikaya, apparently unaware of the ruckus they were causing. The boy was laughing, skipping ahead of the girl who had a furious, focused expression on as she concentrated on her quarry.

“Naoki stop it!” she screeched, but the boy only grinned back at her and darted along ahead.

Hitomi noticed with the quickness of a fighter that the boy was headed straight for the hangings of dry squid beside her. She glanced at Rio, who seemed not to be aware of the two children and their pursuit.

In order to evade the girl further, the boy launched himself forward with such force that he was sent careening, out of control, into the squid and crab display right beside Hitomi. He knocked over an entire bucketful of king-sized crabs and his elbow sent a tray of crawfish flying.

Hitomi’s reaction was instant. She seized the tray and caught almost every single crawfish with it before they could touch the ground. Returning the tray, she then took the bucket and started gathering the crab. Rio was beside her, helping.

“Naoki!” the little girl shrieked as live crabs spilled out at her feet. Hitomi collected them and then stood, looking down at the girl.

“Wow!” came the little boy’s voice from behind her. “That was amazing!”

“Yeah, it was!” the little girl agreed earnestly, forgetting the quarrel with the boy for now. “I bet my dad couldn’t even do that!”

Now the little boy ran around Hitomi’s other side and bopped the girl on the head. “Don’t be stupid, Yuka, of course he could.” He turned to Hitomi and said, “My dad’s the best at everything.”

“Don’t call me stupid, Naoki!” the girl whined. “And you aren’t allowed, anyway, mommy said you have to be nice to me because it’s my birthday!”

“She didn’t say that!” the boy protested.

Hitomi smiled. The boy, with his bright hair and slight features, reminded her of a certain swordsman who she’d known years ago. She remembered his last words to her—that they would cross paths again. He said he knew she would be happy when they did. Hitomi gazed out at the sun, its reflection rippling across the ocean. She knew if she were to see Kenshin again, right now, that she would tell him he was right. She was happy. Ten long years had passed, and this time Hitomi had seized these years, used them to become what she was now.

Tilting her head up at the darkening sky, Hitomi breathed in the cool sea air that rushed over her cheeks.

The little boy and his sister muttered an apology and skipped off again, chasing each other through shops and people, not caring who they disturbed or knocked over. As Hitomi followed them with her eyes, she saw in front of them, shaking their heads, the children’s parents. Their father, who shared their brilliant hair color, was holding a three-year-old child on his shoulders while their mother, a small woman with darker hair, smiled at a kiosk vendor and perused their selection of candies and firecrackers. The woman glanced up as if she could feel Hitomi’s eyes on her and their eyes caught for just a moment.

Hitomi smiled and the woman returned the gesture and then the moment was over, the two children from before had caught up to their parents and were tugging on their sleeves, pleading for one thing or another.

“Hitomi,” a light, soothing voice came from Hitomi’s left.

Hitomi’s eyes followed the young family until they disappeared within the bustling crowd, and with them, the reminder of a bygone past.

Hitomi turned away and saw Minoru, his light brown eyes focused on her. “Good evening Minoru,” she said cheerfully as he took her hand. “How are the boats?”

Minoru laughed, for he knew Hitomi’s interest in fishing was minimal. “Fine, as always. But I’m more interested in how you are, my dear.”

Hitomi sighed into the twilight. “Happy,” she said resolutely. “As always.”

“Wonderful,” Minoru breathed, and together he and Hitomi walked down the path, toward their little cottage by the sea, their hearts full and their future sure.