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May 1, 1880 - Just before dawn... - The Kamiya Dojo
himura_ken_nii
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himura_ken_nii
May 1, 1880 - Just before dawn...
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From: kamiya__kaoru Date: April 7th, 2005 06:43 am (UTC) (Link)
The soft hint of breakfast slowly found its way to Kaoru’s room. There were not many things that could get the assistant master out of bed so quickly, but Kenshin’s cooking was one of them.

Stretching, Kaoru sat up and surveyed her room and all its contents, or lack thereof. The only person she had ever encountered with a more extreme case of minimalism was Kenshin.

Our efforts and rooms combined, we could pass the bedroom off for somewhat of a regular sight.

Kaoru chuckled softly at the thought as she pulled her covers aside and stood up. She also chuckled at herself, as the thought of waking up in a room shared with Kenshin has become part of her morning routine, entirely unintentional, that is. Not that she minded the thought…she just could not ignore the feeling that her subconscious was purposely teasing her. At least it was a pleasant teasing.

Her sleeping robe was checked, ensuring her decency, before she softly opened the door in case Yahiko was still asleep. She cared deeply for the boy, but greatly cherished the quiet beginnings of mornings spent alone with Kenshin. They both found themselves at their most poetic and reflective when they were able to share a cup of tea as the sun rose. Admittedly, there had been one or two instances where their talk had acquired just a hint of romanticism, which were well cherished.

She pattered softly down the engawa toward the kitchen as the crisp, spring morning air brushing against her cheeks, leaving her fully awake and ready to see her Rurouni.

“My” Rurouni…goodness we *are* getting ahead of our selves, aren't we?

She slowed her pace as she snuck through the kitchen door, her large Prussian eyes immediately searching for her Rurouni.
good_ol_ed From: good_ol_ed Date: December 6th, 2005 05:39 am (UTC) (Link)
A feint rustle in the bushes stirred the morining air. The smell of warm saki bellowed from the bushed as a man rolled slowly out of them.

"Where the hell am I?" The man tried to say without passing out again.

The man was very trim, stood just over six feet, and had the tan skin of an islander. His hair was fairly long and unkept. He was shirtless with bandages covering his forearms and mid-torso and tribal tattoos covering all but his face. The blade on his back looked like a katana but had a slight resemblence to a scimitar.

Krii stood to his feet and swayed a bit as he tried to regain his balance. The events the night before had taken a bit out of him and he needed a place to stay.

He figured he would stumble to the nearest house and pass out for the day...

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