Part VII:  Stranger than Fiction

    Kenshin sat in the doorway with his sakabattou across his lap.  The sheath was beginning to look worn, though the blade itself was in excellent condition.  It was an interesting analogy, he mused.  No matter how damaged the outside becomes, the inside often remains strong.  He was troubled, however, and even Ayame and Suzume were not teasing him as they usually did.
    Ekkusu's story had been interesting, indeed, and planted some notions in his head he probably shouldn't be having, but what troubled him more was how much of it was untrue.  He didn't doubt that she'd been forced to become a body slave to Kanryu, nor that she had been given the black leather paraphernalia as a "gift" from the psychotic businessman, but why should she lie about enjoying it?  And what sort of nonsense was that about trying to gouge her eyes out?
    Ekkusu had gone immediately to bed after Genzaisensei had taken the girls back to the clinic, but they all knew she hadn't slept.  When she woke that morning, the dark circles under her reddened eyes told the story of her restless night, and she hadn't seemed to want to talk.  She'd made breakfast in silence, eaten in silence, and immediately afterwards had gone to gather herbs.
    He had also noticed how quiet Megumi had been during her doppelganger's story.  Did she know something the rest of them didn't?  No doubt she understood Ekkusu's reason for the weaknesses in her story.  Kenshin remembered clearly that Megumi had bent the facts to protect herself and them when she'd first met them.  Thinking about it, he realized there hadn't been much time since the latter's arrival that the women had spent time alone together.  Even when shopping, they'd been with Sano, Kaoru, or himself, and she hadn't done much of the talking, preferring to hear their own history
    Yet Ekkusu was from somewhere else entirely, a different Japan.  Why would she be trying to protect them, if the way to her world was closed?  And it clearly was, for as long as she'd been there, nothing else so out of the ordinary had happened.  There could be no doubt of her origin.  Her story was close enough in many respects to the world he knew, but there were enough differences that told him just how far removed the life she had known was from the one she had fallen into one dark night.
    The thought made him remember a similar night, long ago, when he'd found another woman in a street, full of rain and blood, but this scarred Megumi was not Yukishiro Tomoe.
    Yet, she was as enigmatic to him as that woman who'd changed his life so long before had been...
    He'd thought about following her when she'd fled to the sanctuary of the woods, but had decided against it.  The truth would out itself; it usually did in the end.  Besides, the woman was clearly not in any mood to talk about even trivial matters, much less come clean about the secrets she was plainly hiding.
    It was a good thing, too.  She hated crying in front of people.
    For that was why she'd told them she was out to find medicinal plants in the woods; she needed time alone.  Kanryu had not been kind when she had cried, and it was not long before she'd learned the hard way not to do so when anyone might hear.  Tears would fall, and sometimes could not be helped, but tears were not necessarily a cry.
    She had to ask herself what had possessed her at the last minute to hide those facts about herself that she'd hidden.  What was the harm in telling this Kenshin that she'd done the scars on her cheek herself, not in some feeble attempt to torture herself but the day she'd met his own counterpart, in a twisted attempt to understand his view on life and the merits thereof.  That Kenshin had tried to save her from herself but Kanryu had proved too persistent for her to break free.  She hadn't been strong enough to resist the drug dealer when he'd coerced her.  Now, too, she felt she wasn't strong enough to be honest anymore.  It never occurred to her that the blame was not hers to bear, but the twisted man who'd warped her mind towards paranoia and self hatred.
    She'd come a long way from the woman he'd tortured, but there was a deep rooted need to protect herself and what remained of her sanity while under his ministrations that had persisted into her new life.  Without even knowing that, how could she tell the truth?
    It was past noon before she was able to stop crying and collect herself.  She spotted some plants that would be useful and gathered them quickly, knowing that her friends would doubtless be concerned for her.  She smudged some dirt on one side of her face before starting back towards the dojo.  If anyone asked, she planned to tell them she'd fallen asleep in the woods.
    Another lie, she berated herself.  Why must she tell so many lies?
    And to whom could she tell the truth?
    Kaoru took things too often the wrong way, and Kenshin was as impossible as Sanosuke to impart some of those details she'd changed.  She'd loved both of them in her own world, and in too many ways the men she knew here were painfully similar to the ones she'd known in her old home.  Sometimes, the people you love are the hardest to talk to.
    Yahiko?  Well, he was certainly maturing, but she just couldn't see herself pouring her heart out to him about some of these things, not on a one-on-one basis.
    Which left it between Genzaisensei, and Megumi herself.
    "Sorry I took so long," she said with false brightness as she walked back into the dojo.
    "Welcome back," Kaoru said without stopping in her instruction.  Yahiko kept the pace.
    "You've got something on your face.  What'd ya do, fall asleep out there or something?"
    "Actually, I'm afraid I did," the woman smiled, "since I didn't sleep well last night.  It's so nice out, for all that it's so late in the season."
    It was true, Kaoru thought, that the weather was much warmer than usual for autumn.
    "It won't last much longer, I think.  It'll be winter before you know it," she mused aloud.  Another year gone.  How long had Ekkusu been with them, now?  Less than that, but already it was hard to remember a time without two Megumis.
    "Kenshin was looking for you.  He went fishing," Yahiko told the doctor as she stepped inside the dojo.  She paused in the doorway.
    "Did he say if it was important?"
    "Nah."
    "Yahiko, don't slow down!"  Kaoru scolded her pupil as the other woman vanished inside.
    She came back outside, no longer carrying her basket.  "I suppose I'll go look for him, unless you need something now, Kaoruchan."
    "No, that's all right."
    "Sano's with him," Yahiko informed her as she stepped towards the gate.  "I think he's in one of his moods again."
    Ekkusu paused at the gate.  "Maybe I'd better not go," she said.  She had never adopted the other Megumi's attitude towards Sano, though she had picked up on her forms of address.  "I can always talk to Kensan later.  I'll see if Genzaisensei needs another hand at the clinic," she told them as she slipped out.
    Kaoru and Yahiko exchanged looks, though neither said a word.  It seemed strange for her to go so late in the day, but they figured she was just bored.
    "Ekkususan?  Aren't you going to take your basket?"
    The woman turned back inside with a distracted smile.  "I suppose that would be prudent," she said as she returned to her room.
    When she arrived at the clinic, she was surprised at how busy it was.  Genzaisensei looked up and a relieved smile spread across his withered face when he saw her.
    "Ekkususan, I'm glad you're here!  Megumisan went on a house call.  Jump right in as soon as you're ready," he told her before bending back over the swollen ankle of the young man he was tending.
    She settled into the calming effect that giving medical attention had on her soul.  Despite her personal turmoil, she was every bit as good a physician as her counterpart, and indeed found that working at the clinic was in its own strange way very soothing.  Here, she was the problem solver, the fixer of broken things and the healer of hurts.  Here, she didn't have much time to dwell on those issues that tormented her inside, and often her best and most rational solutions would come while methodically bandaging a limb or applying a salve.
    The afternoon passed quickly, and with the two of them working, their queue quickly dwindled to none.  Genzaisensei sat back with a tired smile as the last patient left the office.  "How did you know to come, Ekkususan?  You must have been sent to me by the gods," he smiled.  It wasn't the first time he'd said so, and she had her own traditional response.
    "You certainly have strange ideas of benevolence, sensei."  She smiled.  "The truth is, I needed something to do, and I was hoping that you and Megumisan would have some way of keeping me busy."
    "Something on your mind?"  He looked at the young woman shrewdly.
    "Always," she said with a wan smile.  "I've been thinking a lot lately."
    "I always tell Sano how dangerous that is," Megumi said as she walked in.
    "Yes, but we're not tori-atama."
    "How true," Megumi replied.  "Hello, Genzaisensei.  Quiet day?"
    "Actually, quite busy.  Fortunately, Ekkususan dropped by looking for something to do, so I put her to work in your stead.  In fact, you just missed the last patient by a few minutes."
    "Well, I'm glad for that," the woman sighed, sinking to a seat on the floor.  "Hikarukun's not responding well to the medicine we've been giving him, so I'm trying something I learned long ago."  She explained the procedure for making the more dangerous drug, and her colleagues nodded.  "Of course, I explained everything to his parents but the minute his mother heard the word "dangerous," I'm sure you can imagine her reaction."
    "Some people never do seem to understand that some risks must be taken," the old doctor said soothingly.  "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do but try to educate them better, and be patient."
    "For the sake of the patient," Ekkusu grinned.
    "Itai, Ekkususan.  That was beneath you."
    "It could have been worse."
    "True, but I'm afraid to hear how much."
    "Has Kensan found you yet?"
    Ekkusu blinked.  "Does anyone not know he's looking for me?"
    "I don't think so," Genzaisensei smiled.  "He came by earlier this morning and asked for you.  I told him if I saw you, I'd pass on the message, but I'm afraid it slipped my mind when you arrived."
    "That's all right.  Kaoruchan and Yahiko told me about it before I came here."
    Megumi nodded.  "I wonder what he wants.  Certainly it wouldn't be that he's on to you," she teased.
    "On to me?"
    "It's clear to all of us, Ekkususan, that you've feelings for Kensan.  Except for him, of course.  And Kaoruchan thinks she's secure in her relationship with him, but we're not blind to his own confusion over that issue.  Now, my time is past, but you, on the other hand..."
    "Come now, Megumisan, we don't have to touch on that," she said softly.  "We did agree on that much."
    "That's true.  I do apologize.  But I'd love to know why Kensan's looking for you."
    Ekkusu looked at her colleagues.  "I think I know..."
    Genzai blinked.  "Are you all right?"
    The scarred woman looked even paler than usual, and her scar which lately had seemed a little less noticeable once more stood out starkly against her skin.  Her eyes seemed once again fixed on the ground, and she spoke softly.  Her voice trembled over the words.  "It's because I lied to you last night."