~ Ice Candy ~

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin © Nobuhiro Watsuki, Jump Comics, Fuji TV, Shueisha, and Sony Entertainment. Standard disclaimers apply.

Author’s Note: Okay, Sentora, here’s your Yahiko/Tsubame blanket scenario! Bet you didn’t think someone would seriously consider your idea, eh? Hey, when you’re a desperate little writer like me, you’d be happy to take any ideas, too! And besides, Yahiko’s one of my favorite RK characters (ducks to avoid flying tomatoes and rotten cheese). Just read it: this one’s gonna be sad and sweet. Expect some cuteness toward the end, too. ^_^

By: Angela-chan

Gritting his teeth, Yahiko’s grip tightened on Tsubame’s shoulder as they made their way through the icy blizzard. The harsh wind of that winter night bit hard into his flesh, making his injuries sting more painfully. Biting his lip, he forced himself to move on, trying desperately to ignore the pain.

Tsubame glanced at Yahiko, who was holding on to her for support. Though he was covered with blood, there was a look of manly determination on his boyish face that could easily shut anyone up. But she could only imagine what inner agony he was going through at the moment. She tried to blink back her tears. Yahiko-chan . . .

"Would you stop that?" Yahiko yelled in an unusually loud voice for an injured person, startling her. "Don’t cry, Tsubame, it’s gonna make you colder."

"I—okay," she stammered. "But Yahiko-chan—"

"AND DON’T CALL ME THAT!" Yahiko screamed.

"All right," Tsubame mumbled, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get a word in anyway.

Yahiko’s face softened. "Look, there’s a cabin up ahead. We’ll be able to rest a while there."

Tsubame nodded wordlessly and began to pick up her pace, her mind racing hopefully. If they were lucky, there would be a nice warm fire waiting for them in the cabin, and perhaps a kind elderly couple willing to give them shelter for the night.

But to her dismay, her fantasy remained just that—a nice idea that wouldn’t come to pass, at least not that night. The cabin was deserted, and seemed to have been for a very long time. The wooden walls were rotting, and the paint was peeling off. Cobwebs framed every nook and corner, and the fireplace was cold and dirtied with ashes and soot. The only thing that seemed to be able to give any comfort was a small, torn, threadbare blanket at one end of the room.

"Whew—am I glad . . . to have gotten out . . . of the cold . . . for a while." When Tsubame glanced over at Yahiko, her mouth fell open in shock. To her horror, she saw that the poor boy was shivering all over, and cold sweat trickled down the side of his face. The events of that day had finally taken their toll on the young samurai, and the effect was too much for his weakened body to handle.

"Yahiko!" she cried out, catching him as he collapsed. "Oh, no, Yahiko, you’re—"

Yahiko forced a weak smile. "Calm down, Tsubame," he said faintly, wiping away her tears with his hand. "I’m okay, got it? Just a few bad gashes and a little cold. That won’t take me out. I’m a tough guy, remember?"

Turning away to hide her tears, Tsubame recalled the earlier events of that evening that had led them to such a cruel fate . . .

It had been one ordinary afternoon. Or so they had assumed. Yahiko and Tsubame were enjoying the glorious view of the pink-and-golden sunset over the harbor when a child’s scream had sent them running to the rescue.

The little boy had been playing near the edge of the ledge, very much against his father’s warning. His father was a ship captain, so as he was busy attending to his ship, he wasn’t able to keep an eye out for his naughty, inquisitive son.

Quite by accident, the boy slipped on the laces of his sandals, and plunged into the water just as the ships were about to depart. Being the hero that he was, Yahiko had dived into the water, not at all aware of the danger he was bringing upon himself just for doing so.

He had been able to bring the boy back up to the surface, but the ships were already approaching. As he swam back to shore, the ships were closing on them (though they did not notice that Yahiko and the little boy were there). Tsubame’s cries went unheard, despite her best efforts. And the underwater propellers were spinning faster and faster.

The ships had caught up with them, and the force they were generating pulled Yahiko and the little boy back down under. To his shock, Yahiko saw that the propellers were about to grind him and the boy he was trying so hard to rescue!

Thinking fast, he did what he believed was the only thing he could have done. He twisted his body so that the boy would not be injured. The propellers sliced through his skin, setting loose a stream of blood into the clear blue water. The skin around Yahiko’s ribs and arms had been cut through, and when he finally emerged, Tsubame nearly fainted at the sight of blood, and at the horror on his face. The pain in his eyes, the paleness of his complexion, the cries of the rescued child . . . it was a sight that would haunt her dreams for days to come.

Tsubame blinked, seeing that Yahiko had stood up. He went over to the corner where the blanket was, and picked it up (the blanket I mean, not the corner! ^_^). He turned back to her with a little smile.

"Here, I found a blanket," he said eagerly. "It’s really cold; you could use it. It doesn’t seem to promise much warmth, but I’m sure you can sleep comfortably with it."

Tsubame blinked. "What?"

Yahiko snorted impatiently. "I said, it doesn’t seem to promise much warmth, but I’m sure you could—"

"Yahiko-chan—"

"Dammit, I told you not to call me—"

"Yahiko!" Tsubame cried out, grabbing him by the lapels of his gi.

"Tsubame!" Yahiko stared deeply into her eyes, shocked.

To his greater surprise, Tsubame fell into his arms, sobbing. "That’s why I’m always crying," she sobbed. "It’s all because of you."

"What did I do?" Yahiko demanded.

"You—you—you always go off trying to help people . . ." Tsubame choked out. "You—never—seem—to think—about your own—safety. I know you’re strong; you’ve proven that a long time ago. But I can’t help being afraid all the time. You just—take—too many risks for other people—and I’m scared that . . . that . . . that you might get killed." She let out another sob. "Like now. Look at yourself. All wounded like that—and there’s not a doctor in sight, not even any bandages around! And it’s still so cold—and you still have the nerve to offer me the blanket—"

When Tsubame looked up to meet his gaze, she expected to see him angry or scandalized. Instead, he was looking at her in a way he’d never looked at her before. It was a look of mixed emotions—confusion, shock . . . regret?

"Tsubame, I—I never suspected I was the reason you were crying so much," Yahiko stammered. "I’m really sorry, Tsubame."

"Yahiko?" Tsubame smiled a little, then wiped her tears away. "I’m sorry, too, I—"

"No, don’t say that!" Yahiko said, a little too loudly, gripping her by the shoulders. Tsubame gasped. "Don’t ever be sorry, Tsubame, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who has to be sorry. I promise, I’ll try not to make you cry so much. When we get out of here, it’s going to be different. Better. I guarantee it. You’ve been such a great friend, Tsubame. I never really suspected that you cried only because of me . . ."

Tsubame smiled despite herself. "I’m just a wimp, don’t mind me," she said softly. "Now let me go, before my shoulders become mush."

"Huh?" Yahiko looked down and blushed, seeing his hands still on her shoulders. Huffing in embarrassment, he whipped his hands behind his back. "Hmmph. Well, go ahead, go to sleep now. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

Yahiko glanced back at her, expecting the docile, quiet little waitress from the Akabeko to slink under the blanket and go to sleep. But he was surprised to see her smiling up at him, with little strips of cloth in her hands.

"You need to get those wounds covered up," she said, taking off the top of his gi and carefully bandaging his wounds.

"Yeah, well . . ." Yahiko’s cheeks turned red at such close contact with her; he almost forgot the coldness of the night. "How’d you suddenly acquire those bandages?"

Tsubame’s cheeks flushed deep pink. "Oh, I just tore off the hemline of my kimono . . ."

"WHAT?" Yahiko screeched. Then he glanced down at her kimono and saw that it had gotten shorter. His cheeks flamed even redder. "Uhhh . . . I see."

A few minutes later, Yahiko was bandaged up pretty neatly. He grabbed the top of his gi and put it on quickly. Then, he took the blanket and handed it to Tsubame.

"Here, take it," he said. "I’ll keep watch."

"No, you need rest," Tsubame protested, shoving it back. "You take it."

"It’s getting colder," Yahiko insisted stubbornly. "You take it."

Tsubame blushed. "But you need it more . . ."

"Hey, I’m Myoujin Yahiko, remember? The son of a Tokyo samurai. As the descendant of an honorable samurai clan I cannot allow a friend to freeze to death. You’re taking this blanket and that’s final!" He wrapped the blanket around her to prove his point.

"Well . . ." Tsubame’s cheeks flamed. "We could . . . share it?" Her blush deepened.

Yahiko’s eyes widened. "Share it?" he whispered hoarsely.

Tsubame glanced at her feet. "Well," she said nervously.

Yahiko shrugged. "Okay," he said. "But the blanket is kinda small, so that means . . ." His voice trailed off.

"I don’t mind," Tsubame murmured.

A few moments later, Tsubame and Yahiko lay next to each other, covered with the small blanket. Tsubame was smiling dreamily as she slept on, her hand over Yahiko’s. However, Yahiko was finding it hard to sleep. Sleeping was usually easy for him . . . but not now. Maybe it was just Tsubame’s presence? He didn’t know.

It was getting colder, and Yahiko shivered. There was very little space left for him to move to, so he had no choice but to snuggle up closer to Tsubame. He sniffed the air, then smiled slightly. Only then did he notice that Tsubame wore quite a nice fragrance. Funny how he’d never noticed it before. Maybe because he hadn’t been so close to her then . . .

Sighing deeply, Yahiko let out a yawn. It had been a long night, and he was ready to rest. Snuggling deeper into the warm comfort around him, he slowly let himself drift into a long, cozy slumber.

The End

Started and ended: afternoon of 07/23/99

Edited: evening of 07/23/99

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