The Heart's Divide
Summary: When the newly married Kaoru can't get doubts of her self-worth out of her head, Kenshin volunteers a few surprising facts about the woman she's always compared herself to.
The conversation was a long time in coming, but she had to make her thoughts known. Kaoru knew it didn't really matter one way or the other, but…. She just had to hear Kenshin say that he loved her despite being second best.
"…So?" she demanded weakly, strong front faltering now that she was actually face-to-face with the inevitable truth that she just didn't measure up.
"Kaoru-dono?" Kenshin questioned uncertainly, unsure of how to respond.
Kaoru turned away, hugging herself. "It's alright, Kenshin. I know you loved her—"
"Tomoe?" Kenshin broke in, confused, "Of course sessha loved her. She was wonderful, and kind, and soothed this one's heart. But what does—"
Kaoru swallowed harshly and continued, "I know. I know that I can't compete with her—"
"Of course you can't!" Kenshin yelped, very obviously lost with the turn the conversation had taken and with the female mind in general.
Kaoru flinched. Even though she had known it, hearing it so bluntly had hurt.
"But why would Kaoru-dono want to—?"
Now it was Kaoru's turn to interrupt, "I know! I know I can't compete with Tomoe. That she was a wonderful wife and a perfect lady, but I still—"
This time when Kaoru trailed off, it was not because Kenshin had started talking. It was because his face had grown steadily more incredulous as she spoke until, at last, he had burst out laughing. Even now he was clutching his stomach and leaning weakly against the wall for support.
Normally seeing her introverted husband so openly happy—a vanishingly rare occurrence—would have had Kaoru ecstatic. As it was, she had to use all of her control to reign in the urge to strangle the life from him.
Kenshin took that moment to rub the tears from the corners of his eyes and try, "Y-you think Tomoe was," here he broke off in another fit of giggles, "W-was perfect?" He bit his bottom lip to steady himself and meet his young wife's eyes incredulously. When she just meet his look flatly and it became apparent that that was exactly what she thought, he nearly collapsed under the weight of his renewed laughter.
"It's not funny!" Kaoru shrieked, eyes closed against his laughter, "I know I'm not as good, but—"
Gently, ever so gently, two callus-rough thumbs traced over her cheeks and wiped away the tears that had trickled unnoticed down her face. When Kaoru opened her eyes, she met her husband's bright, repentant gaze; his face just inches from her own.
"Kaoru-dono," he cajoled quietly, taking her checks between his palms, thumbs still running soothing circles on her skin. Kaoru vaguely considered pulling away, but she was too stunned by the open affection—and damn him, humor—lurking in his eyes.
"Kaoru-dono," he began again, "Tomoe was an amazing, beloved woman." He paused to let that settle before continuing, "But she was a far, far cry from perfect, that she was."
"But—" Kaoru protested.
She was cut off when Kenshin pressed a finger over her lips to quiet her. "Tomoe," He pronounced solemnly, "was elegant, and refined, and strong willed. She could read and write better than sessha ever could. She was also the best cook this one has ever known."
Kaoru twitched.
"But," he continued, eyes twinkling, "She couldn't make tea to save her life. The one time she tried, she nearly burnt the house down. How one can cook but be incompetent with a teapot, sessha does not know and never dared to ask. And when she tried to pour… Well, sessha still has the scar on his thigh, that he does."
Kaoru, fed up with being kept quiet, bit the finger over her mouth. Kenshin yelped and clutched his injured digit to his chest. Ignoring his look of betrayal, she sniffled and demanded, "So she couldn't make tea, that doesn't—"
"This one wasn't finished," Kenshin said primly, cradling his assaulted finger and staring at her out of big, wounded eyes. When she remained unmoved, he sighed and continued, "Tomoe also couldn't sew. And she was completely incompetent when it came to laundry—she didn't have the patience for it, that she didn't."
Kaoru sniffed and wiped irately at her eyes. Even with all that—assuming Kenshin was telling the truth—that still meant Tomoe had more talent as a homemaker than she did.
"And," the redhead continued, as if sensing her thoughts, "That was just in the house." He took a deep breath and began again, "She didn't mind when sessha played with the village children… but she herself scared them." He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, "Sometimes on purpose."
Kaoru gave a disbelieving snort.
"It's true," He assured before nodding serenely, "And when she was upset with sessha, she would hide ants in the futon."
"What?" Kaoru gasped, and giggled at the look of distaste on her husband's face.
"Sessha hates ants," he confided with a shudder. But then his shoulders slumped and he sighed, demeanor turning somber. "And then there was the fact that Tomoe had been planning to kill this one…"
Kaoru stilled, looking at her husband's downturned face. With a small sigh, she reached out to embrace the slight redhead. Kenshin relaxed into her arms gratefully, then leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, "Kaoru-dono might be the second sessha has loved, but never has she been one sessha loved second."
He drew away just enough to look into her eyes seriously, "The life this one had with Tomoe was far from perfect, that it was. But it was very dear. And so is the life this one shares with you. Perfect, sessha has learned, is overrated." A slow, teasing smile bloomed over his face, "And assuming Kaoru-dono is not planning to kill this one—"
Kaoru punched him in the arm, but collapsed against his side in helpless giggles all the same.
Perfect might have been overrated, Kenshin considered as his wife laughed in his arms, but this was getting worryingly close.
End.
A/N: This is my first romance story, so please tell me what you think!