Cataracta's Notes: Okay, drabble-ish. It's longer than my other ones, at least! XD To being with, this is really a songfic-in-disguise (but don't tell the administrators that!) to a song called "In the Sun" by Joseph Arthur. Anyone who has seen the alternate ending to the Bourne Identity has heard at least the beginning. It seemed oddly appropriate. I advise anyone who has the time to look up the lyrics, and, if you can find - preferably legally - to listen to it. It's fabulous. On with the drabble!

You Showed Me Myself

"She had showed him himself, and in return, he had become someone else. Kanami X Kazuma"

Kanami is leaning against the rickety old doorframe, a doorframe that has taken so much abuse that it's a wonder it's still standing. It is a frame through which many people have passed. Some friends, some foes, others people who cannot be defined because they have no definition.

But as Kanami is standing there, leaning against the doorframe that holds too many memories, she is not thinking about the people who cannot be defined. She is thinking about someone who can, someone who left long ago and someone for whom she is waiting to come back.

Because she loves him and loves everything about him. She loves that he would try to act so in control when really he was so out of control. She loves that he would deny caring, but would rush off to save an unknown stranger. She loves that he would reassure a little girl on a street in the rain that he wasn't dangerous, when really he was the most dangerous thing out there.

Kanami wonders how he's changed, if he's changed. She wonders if anything in the world is strong enough to change him. Somehow, she doubts it. He wouldn't allow it, anymore than he would allow a madman to harm her. That was his way, and would always be his way.

So Kanami sits and waits and wonders, and while she does so, so leans against a rickety old doorframe that shouldn't be standing. But now she is looking at the road that leads to that rickety old doorframe, and she is seeing something that she'd always hoped for, but was never really sure if she would see. She is seeing the man she loves.

But what surprises her, Kanami thinks, is the way that he doesn't immediately come to her. He stops at the bottom of the rickety old steps and watches her, waiting for her reaction. For a moment, Kanami doesn't know what to do. He had always been the impulsive type, never prone to waiting, and why would he fear coming to her? But then she could see it.

He had changed, and Kanami wasn't sure if the change had come from the road. The fire in his eyes was still as strong as ever, but now it was controlled. He no longer pretended to have control; it was his. The face had also changed. Not physically, not really, but in the way the lips smiled, the way the eyes appraised. It was the face of someone who had seen much and done what he could where he could, but was now ready to have something for himself. And, Kanami knows, he is waiting to see if she will allow him to have her.

Walking slowly, almost afraid that walking to quickly – that running – would scare this man away, Kanami walks down the steps until she is standing in front of him. She looks into the eyes, the eyes that somehow belong to the man she loves yet are different from when she saw them last, and she sees the relief that he has found her, that she is still where she was expected to be.

So she is shocked when the man, her love yet different, crushes her to him in a hug. She can feel the strain he has imposed on himself, and she can feel the emotion that is trying to break loose. And in that instant, she realizes that this man is different, yet is still the same man who she has always loved.

So she tucks this man's head under her chin and she collapses with him when he falls to his knees, cradling her body even as she cradles his head. Her hands are around his neck, his arms are around her back, and they stay like that as the man allows himself to cry. Because he hasn't allowed himself that leisure since he left, but he can control it no longer.

But even when the shaking, quiet sobs subside, Kanami keeps this man's head tucked under her chin. Because somehow she knows that this man has been other's anchor for far longer that he should have been, and now she knows that he needs an anchor. She is willing to be that anchor, that solid ground.

Kanami knows somehow that it was she who changed the man she now cradles. Years ago, on a road that was drenched with rain, and through the years that followed, she had shown this man himself and in return, he had become someone else. The battles had made him stronger, the trials more mature, but it was she who had taken a temperamental teenager and changed him into something else just by being with him.

And, Kanami knows, he had imposed the same change in her. He had slowly, ever so slowly, shown her herself, and in return, she had become someone else. She had changed from a scared little girl into something else; a woman who knows who she is and what she wants.

So she holds this man, and she cradles him to her in the light of a fading sun, and she feels her own tears sliding down her cheeks. And as the sun disappears, and the moon takes it place, Kanami holds a man who she knows so well, who knows her so well, and welcomes the night.

Because, Kanami knows, she is no longer alone. She had Kazuma.

.:Because when we are shown ourselves, we become someone else:.

Cataracta's Notes: So? How was it? Let me know!