Disclaimer: Still own nothing. Sad. Used without permission, not for profit, etc.

Possible ExK here, if you prefer to think of it that way. It wasn't intended to be romantic at all, however. (In fact, I think mashed potatoes are far more romantic than this fic, but to each their own.)

Denying Truth
by misaoshiru

Yukishiro Enishi was a master of self-delusion.

In reality, while he'd never admit it to anyone - least of all himself - he was well aware of the context in which his sister died. He'd been close enough to see the way her killer had held her while she died, the way Tomoe had forgiven the killer and told him not to cry, the way the killer had ignored what she said and cried until long after all the warmth had left her body, and the way it had all been a tragic accident to begin with. And he was intelligent enough by far to acknowledge all of this. But...it was something he just could not accept or believe. A perpetual state of denial, of rage, and of blame against the man who had taken his sister from him was a far more palatable version of the truth.

He would not, could not admit that the last thing his sister would ever want was revenge against that despicable man, that she had loved him even as she bled away, that she had committed the most heinous crime offorgiving Hitokiri Battousai. It did not seem possible to Enishi. Therefore, it could not possibly be true.

Delusion was a way of life. There had been a family that had foolishly taken him in, offering a second chance. Hope. The opportunity to belong for a second time in his life. And he had stolen them from each other and killed them the way Battousai had stolen Sister from him because he could not, would not believe they were telling the truth. Their togetherness taunted him. It made him sick.

There were days when he was able to delude himself into believing that Tomoe was still there, beside him. Kamiya could attest to that; one such day had occurred while she was on the island. She had brought him breakfast. He looked into her eyes, a strange expression on his face. "Thank you, Sister." He didn't even complain about the food for once.

A short while later, he spoke again. "Sister...why don't you ever smile for me?"

"Because To--because I don't want your vengeance, Enishi. Your love is enough."

He didn't seem to hear. Instead, he put his head in her lap like a child in need of his mother's affection.

Kaoru let him. She knew how he felt, in a way; there had been days not after her father died when it felt unreal to her, like he'd come back and everything would be fine.

"I miss you so much."

"I think she knows."

The next day, Enishi acted as though nothing had changed. "Get out."

"I brought you breakfast."

"...Your cooking still sucks."

Enishi would always be self-delusional. But he simply could not force himself to believe that Kamiya Kaoru was a good cook.