FicWad

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or names contained here in, I own only the story line. I make no profit.

Author's note: Is nothing sacred?! Kenshin slash!? Ah well, I suppose it's not all that uncommon. I'm a Kenshin x Kaoru fan, but Kenshin and Sano are just too good to pass up. Besides this thing's been following me around for almost a year, if I don't get it down soon it will mutate and eat me.

The time frame is from the last Samurai X movie; Reflection, when Sano found Kenshin at the sea-shore. This is obviously an alternative version of events so um, yeah. Go nuts!

1

At last I had found him. After all this time, he is here. Here! But why?

Sanosuke had been riding for many miles before he reached the cliffs above the shoreline. Here is where the strange red-headed man had been seen, or so natives had told him. The man with the cross-shaped scar on left cheek. Sanosuke knew the man could only be Kenshin.
It had been many long years since he had last seen his friend, but what business would lead him here, away from his beloved Kaoru and Kenji? Were they perhaps in some sort of trouble?
If they were in trouble, why come here? Was he looking for him?
The questions jostled around in Sano's brain like beads inside a baby's rattle. The cliffs were coming into view now. To see him again would be like old times...

The horse slowed to a stop just off the beaten path and Sanosuke leapt down, running towards the figure he saw hunched over on a rock. "Kenshin! Kenshin!" he cried happily.
The man on the rocks did not turn to greet him at first, then as Sano stepped closer he turned his head to look at him.
Sano stopped with a gasp. The face that looked back at him, was the face of a dying man.
"Kenshin?" The tall man gasped, walking towards him, stopping to stand beside him.
The man he called Kenshin looked at him with wide, blank violet eyes. He was pale, and thin, and there were strange purple bruises creeping up the length of his neck. "Who is Kenshin?" he asked gently.
Sanosuke felt his guts twist painfully as though he had been run-through. "Is that my name?" asked the man in front of him. "I am trying to get home, sir...maybe you know how I can get there?"
Sano put his hands on the man's shoulders, the man winced. "Kenshin, don't you remember me? It's Sano! Sanosuke!" he cried frantically.
Kenshin stared at him with the same blank eyes, though there was a little fear in them now. "Sanosuke..." he said blankly.
Sano bit his lip, and then stood himself up, bringing the other man with him. "Come, friend. You need some shelter for the night." he said as calmly as he could. But inside his mind was racing, his heart was pounding. What had happened to him? What could bring the mighty Kenshin Himura to his knees in such a way. He was ill, that much Sanosuke knew. His body was riddled with sickness, a bad one too.
"No...no, I need to get home." Kenshin insisted, shaking his head frantically. He looked terrified, looking around him hopelessly. "But where is it? Where is home?" he cried out.
He swayed unsteadily on his feet, and Sano had to reach out and grab his shoulders again before he tumbled to the ground.
"You will get there, but not tonight. Tonight you will come home with me, and you will get your strength back." Sanosuke said steadily, leading Kenshin towards his horse.
The swordsmen followed at a stagger, barely perceiving what was going on around him. Sano lifted him onto the horse, Kenshin didn't struggle.
"Hang on, it's not far."



*



Sano watched him as he stood at the window of the small hut he had been living during his travels. Kenshin stared endlessly out at the shore, listening to the sounds of the wind and the waves. The red-headed man then began to cough and choke violently, clutching his chest as he doubled over. Sanosuke ran to catch him, leading him over to the bed against the far wall.
"Kenshin!" he gasped.
"I must get home, I must!" the dying man managed a strangled cry as Sano laid him down on the grass matt that served as a bed. He rived in pain, clawing at the strange purple welts that covered his chest, his arms, throat and so on.
"Stay here, I'll fetch a doctor!" Sano called to him rushing towards the door. He hated to leave him alone in such a condition, but with no medicine it might not matter. "I'll be right back, just stay put!" he shouted to him, bolting out the door.
Kenshin looked after him with frightened eyes, and then lapsed into unconsciousness.


*

Sano rode back towards the hut that night, alone. There was no doctor to be found, only a doddering old apothecary, whom could only offer him something to ease Kenshin's pain, not cure it.
Sano gritted his teeth, anger and hopelessness bubbling up inside him. Kenshin could have died while he was a way, and he nothing to show for it. His friend depended on him, just as he had depended on him long ago, and Sano had failed him.
The former fighter for hire tethered his horse, and stepped inside, to find something different then he had expected. Kenshin was not where he had left him on the bed, but rather standing once more at the window, watching across the fields to the shore line a few miles off where he had been found.
"Well..." Sano said, surprise in his voice. The man turned to look at him curiously. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."
The wide violet eyes of the other man blinked slowly at him. "I do not feel well..." he murmured, turning to move towards Sano, and losing his footing.
The taller man reached once more to grab him, letting the two of them sink easily to the floor, Kenshin's head on his shoulder, his red hair falling in cascades across his shoulders and over his face.
"I know. I brought you medicine. It isn't much, but it will help with the pain until I can find you something better." he said, taking a pouch of crushed herbs from his sack and showing them to Kenshin.
"You are very kind...I don't mean to be such a burden." the red-haired samurai replied.
"You are not a burden. You are my friend." Sano said matter-of-factly. "Now lie down while I make us something to eat, and you something to swallow this shit with." he said.
Kenshin nodded and made his way back over to the matt where he lied down on his side, watching Sano as he went through the ritual of preparing dinner.
Sanosuke could feel the other man's eyes on him, burning with quiet fascination and mild confusion. The battousai, whom had once carved the Mejii era with his sword, whom saved, and ended the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands of men, was now as helpless as small child. Sano felt his guts twist inside him again, a slight salty sting at the corner of each of his eyes and he placed fresh fish over the fire to cook.
Kenshin did not know his own name, his own legendary name. It was a mystery to him, just as Sano was. He seemed to know only one thing for certain, and that was that he needed to get home. And yet he did not know where that was, or why he was going there. Only that he had to go.
Had Kenshin forgotten about his wife and child the same as he had forgotten his old friend?
Sano placed the tea kettle in the coals to heat the water. Kenshin lay watching him in silence, eyes heavy lidded. He would be asleep before long.
If he has forgotten his name...then has he forgotten the meaning of it? Does he know what he is?
He found himself staring at the pale, drawn face, who's eyes were looking past him. "It's burning..." he spoke suddenly.
Sano blinked. "What?"
"The fish, they are burning." Kenshin said again, lying there limply staring at the fire.
Sano turned his head and realized he had been in his mind too long and their food was suffering for it. "Dammit!" he cursed, lifting it quickly from the fire and setting it aside, and then burning his fingers as he did the same to the kettle, which was whistling angrily.
A small smile slipped across the samurai's lips as Sano cursed again, blowing on his burning finger tips. "Heh...you are clumsy."
Sano looked back at him, ready to shoot some reply to the same effect to him, but stopped. He would not understand. Instead he merely nodded lightly. "Cooking is a job for women." he grunted.
He picked up one of the fish, still skewered on the twig he had cooked it on, "Don't try to force yourself to remember things now. Just get your strength back, and it will come to you." he said tossing him the fish, expecting him to catch it.
Kenshin's hand reached for it, and missed it by a long shot.
Sano felt his veins fill with ice water at the sight of it. The Kenshin he knew would never have missed that catch, even if he had been asleep. He watched as he picked it up and began to nibble at it without appetite.
Sanosuke hadn't expected him to be hungry, but he needed to eat something if he were to have any chance of getting better. He took the herbs from the pouch that sat next to him on the floor, and shook about a third of the leaves into a cup, pouring the hot water on top and watching it turn a sickly green as a result.
He brought the cup over to his friend, who was still nibbling from the fish in his hands. "Is it good?" Sano asked, handing him the cup.
Kenshin put the fish aside to take it, and nodded, smiling at him again.
"Drink that now," Sano nodded to the cup. Kenshin took a gulp obediently and grunted as it slipped down his throat.
"Bitter." he coughed. But he finished in three more hurried gulps and then set it aside, the food forgotten.
Sano watched for a brief moment, and then lunged at him, throwing his arms around him and holding him against him. The other man gasped, uncertain what to do.
"There is nothing left for you to do here, my friend, so please go back to Japan." Sano pleaded, as if this would bring sense to his friend.
"I want to...but I can not find my way...I can not find the way..." the swordsman whimpered, sinking his head into Sano's shoulder again, closing his eyes in exhaustion.
Sanosuke held him until he grew silent and heavy and then laid him down on the bed once more, pulling a blanket over him.
The black-haired man then laid down himself on his bedroll, watching the other man as he slept.

I could put him on a boat to Japan from Shang-hai, but in his condition he would not survive the ride. If he is to ever get home, he will have to get well here first.