A/N: Although I like Kenshin, I'm not a huge fan of the series. Sort of a casual fan I guess. I never thought I would write a fanfic for it, but this one-shot was written for a friend of mine who LOVES Kenshin, and I kind of like how it turned out.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story, nor do I profit from this work in any way except for the warm-fuzzies positive reviews give.

Daybreak

He'd already made his usual lap around the dojo in thin light of pre-dawn, checking gates and locks, just as he did every night after everyone else had gone to bed and before he fell asleep.

The first up and the last down.

It was a habit he couldn't break, he found himself unable to sleep otherwise, plagued by unnamed worries and shapeless fears.

He had already paused outside the doors to listen to the steady breathing of the other two dojo occupants before making himself a simple cup of tea and retreating back to his room, quietly sliding the door to the central garden open so that he could watch the day break. Although he preferred not to dwell on the potential symbolism, morning was one of his favorite times of day; especially, as now, in early spring when the cold of winter was finally breaking.

Breathing deeply Kenshin relished the feeling of the cool morning air moving into his body.

There was a soft sliding clack from the inner hall and he turned slightly.

Kaoru-dono was awake.

Kenshin listened attentively as her soft footfalls paused at his door before moving towards the kitchen. Assured that she was occupied with breakfast, he turned his attention back to the garden.

The sun was just creeping over the horizon, causing the sky above the roof opposite his room to glow, while leaving the pre-dawn chill fresh and bright in the air.

He liked the chill at the same time he disliked it. It was one of those contradictions he was becoming ever fonder of as he aged. While he wasn't that old, only 28, already some of his joints and old wounds protested the cool mornings and hard floor. His shoulder chose that moment to twinge sharply, aching where Shishio had bit him. Kenshin knew from long, intimate experience with wounds that it would take months, if not years, for the nerves leading to the pucker of missing flesh to fully lose their raw sensitivity.

He breathed deeply again, willing the discomfort away.

In a tree to his right, an amami thrush trilled its cheery greeting to the day. A breeze ruffled the branches of the pine outside his door and sent a few very early sakura petals spiraling to the ground before curling into his room and tugging softly at his hair and at the neck of his kosode.

Out beyond the high walls of the house the city was coming awake and a few distant shouts of farmers coming to market joined the birdsong. Absently he noted the sound of Kaoru returning to her room and the various rustlings and clinks associated with her preparing for the day.

It was light enough to see clearly now without difficulty. The smell of the air was sweet and clean; the heat of the day not yet raising the more unfortunate odors associated with human habitation.

If he closed his eyes and concentrated Kenshin could smell the resin of the pine in the air, as well as the soft, faint floral of the cherry blossoms. The little pond in the garden lent an additional watery, green scent of rushes, lilies, and a bit of algae.

As far as he was concerned it was a perfect morning.

Kenshin breathed deeply once more, still, as pleasant as it was there was still something missing…

A not entirely pleasant, nutty, charred scent curled though the morning air.

There it was.

The key aroma he had come to expect as a component of his mornings at the dojo.

Burnt rice.

He subtly shifted his weight again, relieving the pressure on the foot that was about to fall asleep and fought an amused smile.

Perhaps the morning was not perfect.

But he was hardly worthy of such a thing as perfection.

A loud bang of a door sliding open hard echoed down the hall, and the force rattled his inner door quietly. The noise was followed by the thud of quick footsteps as Kaoru ran towards the kitchen, and then the muted sound of a feminine voice swearing so colorfully Kenshin considered for a moment that she could put even his old master to his mettle. She would be embarrassed if she knew he could hear her cursing her own ineptitude, and that was probably why he always kept quiet at this time, waiting for her to burn the morning rice, and complete this ritual that had become part of his daily life.

Kaoru was many admirable things, but a paragon of feminine accomplishment was not one of them.

He tilted his head. Actually, when he thought about it, she was like one of those contradictions that he was growing ever fonder of; sweetness and temper, youth tempered by a wisdom beyond her years. She was a strong fighter in her own right, her ownership of the dojo proved it, but sometimes her insecurities and fears made her seem almost fragile.

As he watched the garden wake with the day memories of Kaoru from the last several months flickered through his mind.

He wasn't worthy to entertain such soft, affectionate thoughts about her, but he'd already learned that it was impossible to entirely smother the warmth that bloomed in his chest at the memory of her coming to Kyoto after him.

A lighter step followed the earlier ones down the hall and the beginning rumble of arguing voices told him that Yahiko had arrived in the kitchen, ready to berate Kaoru for her lack of cooking skills. It was times like this that it was clear Kaoru wasn't like most of the women that Kenshin had known. Wasn't like Tomoe.

Tomoe had been salvation and damnation wrapped into one. She'd been exactly what he'd needed as a broken, ruined youth. But now….

Now, living in this house with stubborn acceptance from the people he could hear arguing down the hall (Sano's low sarcastic rumble had joined the fray, proving that the taller man had shown up in hopes of getting some free food out of the morning), people he was beginning to realize were just as alone as he was, was making him want things that he'd never thought to want before. Had never hoped to deserve.

As the sounds of squabbling escalated he allowed the smile he'd been fighting to come through.

There was something…comfortable in the predictability of his mornings. Squabbling, burnt rice and all.

Almost 30 and he was still coming to understand that it was the "imperfections", the unexpected and unplanned, that made things so good.

The way Yahiko still dropped his shoulder in certain katas, and yet somehow managed to occasionally get in hits. Or Sano's brash confidence that in some way endeared him to almost everyone he met, despite his foul mouth and rough character. Or Kaoru's fierce independence and protectiveness that she wore like a shield to hide her worries.

Families weren't perfect. Life wasn't perfect. It was messy and unpleasant and difficult. It was somewhat humbling, having to learn this lesson from a girl ten years his junior, a pre-pubescent boy, and a homeless brawler. But he was learning and that was, perhaps, what was important.

"Kenshin?" Kaoru's clear, soft voice interrupted his thoughts and echoed out into the garden from the common room where the group always took their meals. He shifted slightly, allowing one of the floorboards to creak under him and give away his presence.

"Breakfast is ready when you are."

There was always something in her voice that soothed him, curled into the empty, broken places in his heart and made him feel, if only for a few minutes, that perhaps he was worthy of things he had no right feeling worthy of.

As the edge of the rising sun crept over the facing roof he rose with a subtle stretch. Perhaps his first instinct had been correct; it was a perfect morning after all.

-END-

Awwwww, wasn't that sweet?

*Peace y'all*