Her story was indescribably sad. More than he could even fathom. What kind of world was this that things like that could happen? She had wounds that he didn't even know how to touch. She couldn't even seem to value her own life. See how much it mattered that she lived instead of died--no matter how many times that she returned.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. What use was he if he could only kill? What use was he if he couldn't get through to her? How important she was? How good? To treat herself so lightly... Her hand touched his, giving comfort to one who did not need it. Couldn't accept it as things were now.

The weight of it pressed him down, filled his lungs. His arms trembled and he wanted to grab her shoulders and make her understand. But she would have to learn that on her own time. She would have to find her own way.

"You are my friend, Megumi-dono. I would have carried you anywhere," he said, trying not to sound as weary as he felt. He would let her take care of things since she wished to and she was right. He needed to regenerate before leaving again. Kenshin pulled off his shoes, setting them aside, before moving himself and katana to the blankets, wrapping a few warm ones around his shoulder and leaning against the stack of boxes that were there for that purpose.

"In any case, I'm glad you're alive," he said, managing a small smile. "I would have missed you otherwise, indeed I would."