In the early hours of the morning, Kenshin quietly wandered the Kamiya house and grounds, seeking respite from his restless tossing and turning. Although insomnia was a familiar companion to the one-time rurouni, he'd found it to be an even more frequent visitor of late; slumber always long in coming, and prone to nightmares when it arrived. Tilting his head back and rocking it gently from side to side, he tried to release the tension in his neck and shoulders. The cause of his unrest was hardly a mystery: with the wedding only a few days away, anxiety had settled in the pit of his stomach, worrying at him every waking moment: What if she changed her mind? What if she decided she didn't want him? Rationally, he knew such worries were unfounded. Kaoru had welcomed him into her home, forgiving his hitokiri past with something akin to blind faith; and had followed him to Kyoto on nothing more than the strength of her feelings. A woman such as that would not falter now. He knew it, just as he knew that to doubt her was to wrong her. Yet he couldn't quiet his fears, for it wasn't his trust in Kaoru that wavered, but his trust in himself. She loved him; it was as certain as the sun rising in the morning. The foundation of his anxiety was why. What did she see when her blue eyes looked into his soul? Whatever it was eluded his understanding, leaving him no choice but to believe it didn't exist -- to believe that, in her kindness, she saw something that wasn't there. Lost in thought, Kenshin's unwitting footsteps led him directly to the source of his confusion, his violet eyes darkening with chagrin when he found himself standing outside her door. The faint light of a flickering candle shone softly through the thin panel, evidence that perhaps Kaoru wasn't as comfortable with the idea of marriage as he believed. Hesitating, finding his heart suddenly beating nervously in his throat, the rurouni eased the shoji quietly open, murmuring her name solicitously. At the sight of her sleeping peacefully -- body folded beside the table in the center of the room, her head cradled on the curve of her arm -- he sighed slowly and deliberately, relieved beyond words to find her untouched by the fears besetting him. Her back and knees will be sore in the morning, he thought, smiling fondly at her awkward position. Moving close, he bent to lift her into his arms, intent on tucking her into the waiting futon. As her weight shifted to rest against his chest, her hand relaxed its grip on her calligraphy brush, letting it clatter dully against the tabletop. Stilling as the small motion drew his gaze to the characters scrawled with such care over the paper scattered around them, Kenshin could but stare, torn between laughter and some other, nameless emotion. His name, her name, and combinations thereof littered the white surface of several sheets -- as if she'd been trying them out for size, wanting to see how they looked in writing. Betraying a particular fondness for her husband-to-be, Kaoru had written his name most often, the seemingly endless listing decorated with an array of doodles -- boxes, scrolls, flowers . . . and later, words. Kokoroyoi she'd written first, adding the kanji "fond" to the second character in his given name. I make her happy, he thought with some wonder, despite the fact that he knew it -- or should have -- already. In the middle of the same page the word shingan encouraged a slight smile, and perhaps an even fainter blush -- it was disconcerting to see so many of his own thoughts echoed back to him on paper. Cradling her slight weight against him, Kenshin sifted through a few more pages, touched and shaken by the insights her scribbled musings revealed. That she could consider a former hitokiri to be pure of heart was no less amazing than her recognition of the Battousai's ferocity as the fire of anger and jealousy. Kokoroyamashii described the mind set of his wanderings perfectly, yet she also saw in him heartfelt sincerity and consideration for others. And from the phrase scrolled in the bottom corner of a smudged and water-stained sheet, he learned that she wept with him, for all the sadness he carried inside. Fascinated and oddly comforted, the rurouni found it hard to turn away from his blatant invasion of privacy, needing the reassurance he found in Kaoru's round, feminine hand. There, in startling black and white, was the answer to his question, an inkling of her many reasons for accepting all that he was. He hadn't realized how well she understood him -- how well she read the things that defined his heart and soul. Her embrace wasn't blind, but knowing -- she knew who he was inside, and loved him regardless. Rising to his feet Kenshin carried Kaoru to her futon, more relaxed than he'd been in days. Anxious tension had drained away the more he read, leaving him -- for the moment, at least -- content with the notion that perhaps there was something worthy within him, after all. He'd never considered how well his name suited him, both before and after he met his shishou. Now he knew. 
All of the words and phrases Kaoru has written use the kanji "heart/mind"from Kenshin's name. There are hundreds of such phrases; listed below are just a few:
My favorite -- which means "passion" -- is shinen, and is written "heart/mind" + "monkey". Mind Monkey. I couldn't find a way to work it in, but it certainly is a fun phrase!
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