by:K C “Kaoru-Sensei” Hulsman
(Author’s Note* There are spoilers here, for episodes 8-12, as well as mild spoilers for the end of the Kyoto Hen saga, episodes in the late 50’s to early 60’s. these are characters Watsuki created, I’m just borrowing them ^_^)
Misao looked out of the corner of her eye at Aoshi, her stomach in uneasy knots at the lump in her throat mirrored by the lump in her heart.
The seasons had cycled completely since his return to the Aoiya, and in all that time there was question that burned at Misao’s heart. She was too afraid to ask, not wanting to cause him either discomfort or remind him. Nor had the timing ever seemed right. But she had to know, and realized it would always be an uncomfortable question, but he had changed a lot in the last few months. Finding a peace she had never seen in him before.
Misao hurriedly glanced away from Aoshi as he turned around.
Hmm… she’s been acting strange all day, he mused as he savored his tea.
She was usually one who woke early, and had as much energy as the sun must have… she seemed to beam and bounce around the place, but today she had slowly and quietly moved around. Something was definitely wrong.
“Misao, are you feeling alright?”
She jumped, startled out of her own thoughts and rushed a hasty reply. “Hai, Aoshi-sama, I’m fine.”
Aoshi merely arched an eyebrow at her but let the matter slide as she joined him for afternoon tea.
She poured herself a glass of tea mechanically, the action was not lost on Aoshi, nor were here white-knuckled hands.
She’s scared?
She sat down somberly and sipped at her tea unlike her usually downing it in several gulps.
Something is most definitely wrong…..
She kicked herself to ask him but just sat there fighting herself until she finally managed to say his name.
“Aoshi-sama….”
“Hai, Misao-chan?”
“Um…,” she spoke as she lost her nerve, “who made the tea so I can thank them?”
“Believe it or not it was Okina.”
“Oh,” she replied as the room fell to an uneasy silence.
“Ao-“
“-sao”
The two of them looked at each other uneasily, Misao recovered faster.
“You first.”
Aoshi looked at her and sighed.
“Misao, whatever it is that’s bothering you, say it.”
She sighed and looked down at her hands as Aoshi slowly went through one of the meditation techniques of the Oniwabanshuu as he waited for her to reply.
“Aoshi-sama….. I…. there has been something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while…”
She feel silent as she tried to bring herself to ask the rest of it, which finally came out in a blurred burst of words.
“Whydidyounottelluswhathadhappenedtothem?”
Aoshi blinked in confusion a moment trying to sort out the mumbled words and paled ever so slightly when he deciphered them. His head bowed and his bangs hid his eyes from view.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Misao hurriedly began to run from the room.
“Misao wait.”
She paused her hand on the door her back to him.
“Don’t apologize, you have the right to know. Please sit down?”
She nodded her head, as she turned around and reclaimed her seat on the floor, her bangs shading her eyes from view as she stared and twiddled at her thumbs.
“It was wrong of me not to tell you, but when I lost them, I… I wasn’t really thinking straight. I felt alone, and part of me didn’t want to send you sad news, I… we left in the middle of the night, you enver got to say goodbye, and I didn’t want you hating me… at elast the part of me that was still thinking, another part of me…. Thought they were all I ever had.”
“Aoshi,” she reached out and gently laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t blame you, I never did. It’s just… I miss them.”
Her voice choked over with emotion as soft tears slide from her eyes. Aoshi looked first at her hand on his arm then up at her face, her sad face.
“Your face wasn’t meant for tears,” he spoke quietly as he reached up and flicked the tears away with a constricting pain in his heart.
“I am so sorry Misao,” he gently brushed the bangs from her eyes and laid a comforting hand on the top of her head bfore he quietly got up and began to leave.
“Aoshi,” she spoke around her tears. “I need to say goodbye to them, would you please take me to their grave?”
Aoshi filled with guilt couldn’t deny her this request even though he didn’t wish to return to the site himself.
“Hai,” he whispered so quietly as he left the room.
* * *
By the end of the week the two of them were on the road heading towards Tokyo. Misao had sent a message ahead saying they’d be in the area and drop in for a visit at Kamiya Dojo.
Their journey was quiet, Aoshi had returned to his usual quiet, moody, brooding, and Misao was unusually subdued.
The only conversation between them was the absolute minimum necessary, but neither one really noticed, they were too wrapped up in introspection to notice much of the environment they were in.
Aoshi’s mind reeled, replaying over and over the fight with Kenshin and Kanryu’s insane act of bringing the gatling gun down to bear on the Oniwabanshuu and whoever else that was in the area.
He saw them time and time again lay down their lives for his, a life he considered worthless. The look in their eyes as they looked at him, their bodies riddled with bullets, as they smiled at him, glad to see he was still alive as they died one by one.
The world had narrowed down to Hannya, Beshimi, Hyottoko, and Shikijo as he watched them die, selflessly sacrificing their lives for his. Of them all Shikijo had surprised him. He recalled their fights when they had been enemies to when he had spared his life and Shikijo then served Aoshi faithfully. But when he stood in the path of the bullets, that’s when Aoshi could take it no longer, he snapped. He was to numb, to numb to feel, to truly understand what was going on around him. It wasn’t until quite some time later he realized it was quiet. His friends’ bodies lay before him, a living testament to their will. He got up, ignoring his own pain, and one by one drew them over his shoulders walked out of Kanryu’s mansion into the woods, and laid them there, going back for the next, then the next, till all four had been removed.
He scraped and dug out their graves with the sheath of his sword. It was long slow work, and it wasn’t until the eerie light of false dawn cracked through the sky that their bodies were laid to rest and cover in a blanket of earth. The anguish in him kept him going, he found four large stones to serve as markers and carried them wearily to the clearing in the woods, he lay each one down with a religious exactitude and as he settled the last one into place, he collapsed with sheer exhaustion and fell into restless dreams.
He knew not how long he had slept. He woke late in the evening, the last rays of the sun disappearing over the Horizon. He stayed awake that night hungry, famished and thirsty. He refused to leave their grave as he spent his wake with them. After the hellishly cold night., he stretched and got up a protesting knot of misery. He took one last look at their graves, and turned around, not looking back.
At first he had wandered aimlessly, then changed his steps to return to Kyoto, to the Aoiya, but he saw in his minds eye the disapproval on Okina’s face, the tears in Misao’s eyes, and lastly, the life his friends had wastefully saved.
I must be the strongest, to make their deaths not be in vain.
He altered his steps and walked away from the only home he ever knew.
* * *
Misao took it upon herself to find a place to camp for the night, she could tell that Aoshi was too pensive to be of any real good.
She walked off the road into a clearing in the rooms, Aoshi passed her by still walking before his fuzzed mind made the connection she had turned off the trail. He turned around and found her making camp.
“Misao?”
She looked at him with a soft expression he couldn’t name in her eyes.
“It’s getting late, we better camp now before we end up tripping in the dark. Why don’t you start a fire, and I’ll go find us something to eat.”
He nodded in acquiescence. She walked quietly into the woods leaving him alone with his dark thoughts, the iciness of his heart an irony to the fire he brought to life.
She returned almost an hour later well after the sun had set, with two rabbits in her arms.She handed one to Aoshi, and they skinned, and cooked the rabbits over the fire. The skin being tossed far away from the camp into the bushes for the natural carriors to take care of.
They ate in silence, the only sound the crackle of the fire, and the soft hum of insects in the cool night air. So when Aoshi cleared his throat it sent Misao jumping to her feet with knives in hand.
“Gomen… I’m a little edgy,”she apologized as she sat back down.
Aoshi nodded his head and quietly spoke, “We should reach the site by midmorning tomorrow.”
Misao looked up and nodded her head slowly, grabbed her cloak, wrapped it around her and fell asleep.
Aoshi looked at her as he slept recalling all too vividly the night he had said goodbye to her.
* * *
He and the others had informed Okina that they were leaving. Okina hadn’t been pleased but he let them go. Before they left, as the rest were waiting for him in the yard he went by Misao’s room, he slid the door open stealthily, to be rewarded with her sweet sleeping face, her body sprawled ever which way in a way he found utterly charming.
He walked quietly into the room and kneeled beside her. He dared to brush the bangs out of her eyes and kiss her forehead gently. She was to sweet to kind to be associated with rough ones like him and the others. She should never have to know battle. This little girl who had captured his heart, who had been generous and caring and trusting even though she had been an orphan.
He recalled the promise he made to her father as he lay dying, that he would protect the girl. As well as, raise her with the others. That this would be her new family.
He had been the one to tell her her parents were both dead, she had broken into tears, tears that had been a knife to his heart, and unashamedly flung herself at him, as he uncertainly wrapped his arms around her.
He had become her big brother, and she seemed to shadow him even more expertly and with more determination than most of the Oniwabanshuu could. That’s when he and the others began training her. It would be good for her to be able to take care of herself, and good for her as a way to spend time with them.
He rarely smiled then, but he recalled fondly the sunny expression always on her face. She refused to let life keep her down, and when he left, he knew he’d miss hre. But he never realized just how much he would.
He kissed her forehead and said a silent goodbye, knowing she’d be furious and upset in the morning. He quietly walked out and slid the door shut and met up with the others.
“Are you sure it’s okay to leave in the night like this, Misao-chan will be very upset.”
“She’d be upset either way, and this is easier for all concerned. Let’s go.”
The group of five had left the Aoiya, never knowing that only one would ever return.
* * *
Misao woke early the next morning, and she could tell by the dark circles under Aoshi’s eyes that he most likely didn’t get any sleep, or if he had, it had been very limited and restless.
Wordlessly they broke camp, and set out for the grave site.
A few hours later, Misao knew when she saw Aoshi turn off the main road they were close, and when she turned around a bend in the natural forest trail, she saw the four markers and knew they had arrived.
She walked over to the marker on the right and knew with a degree of certainity that left no doubt just who’s grave it was.
“Hannya….” she whispered as Aoshi nodded his head quietly. He was slightly amazed that she knew it was his grave. Especially since the graves were all unmarked.
She looked at the adjacent grave “Beshimi, Hyottoko, and Shikijo,” as she nodded her head at each grave that was theirs.
“How did you know?”
“I know,” she replied sadly. “Call it woman’s intuition.”
Aoshi merely looked at her oddly and let the matter go.
She brushed away some dust and dead leaves from the top of Hannya’s grave and sunk to her knees before it, the tears slowly emerging to trickle down her face.
Aoshi looked sadly at her and the graves and went to turn around to give her time alone, but was surprised to hear her voice.
“Aoshi-sama, please don’t go.”
The entreaty in her voice stayed his steps and he hung back.
They were both utterly still, and remained unmoving for hours as the sun trekked across the sky and began to sink into the west. Misao cried silently releasing all the pent up grief.
Aoshi as he listened to her soft tears hit the top of Hannya’s marker, mixed with his own pain, closed his eyes willing the emotions to go away to stay bottled up.
Seeing Misao in such pain, broke his heart, and after an eternity of reluctance he walked forward standing just behind her, and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
She reached up at his hand through her tears and covered it with her own. They were that way for quite some time, before Misao looked up through her thin veil of tears at Aoshi, smiling bitterly. She saw the pained expression on his face as the wind tugged his bangs and laid his eyes to view. The thin shimmer of tears haunting his eyes tugged on her heart, until she stood before him, her arms around him, offering both comfort and seeking some in return.
Aoshi numb with shock, then with his own need blindly wrapped his arms around her and held her. Closing his eyes against the pain, and finding a gentle balm to it in her warmth.
No tear ever left his eyes, none at least that either of them was aware of. Misao had stopped crying well before she had put her arms around him, yet holding him she felt another part of herself in pain yet being strangely comforted.
The wind whipped around them, gently caressing and tugging at their hair, until they slowly relaxed their grips, looked up and separated.
They looked into one another’s eyes, a wordless communication there. Misao’s eyes usually so bright and vibrant, were sad yet so full of love. Aoshi’s eyes were darker than even usual for him, but there was a softened expression around his eyes, and somehow Misao knew that just as much as she needed this, so did he.
Aoshi reached out to Misao’s face and cupped it gently, looking for any remnant of tears to brush away but found none. Instead he gently brushed away her bangs, as he let his hands return to his sides once again.
She smiled sadly at him and looked back over her shoulder at the graves.
“I miss them so much, I loved them so much. But it gives me peace knowing that they’re still watching after us.”
“Misao, just what do you mean by that?”
She smiled back up at him and walked over to a nearby fallen tree, sitting on it’s decaying trunk.
“During the fight at the Aoiya, I was hurt pretty badly, lying there, and I saw Hannya, he told me that Kenshin had kept his promise, that you were coming home. Somehow I knew I had to make sure I was both there for you to return to, as well as the Aoiya. It gave me a second wind, and though I missed them it touched me knowing how much they cared for me,… and you too. I wish no one had to die, but I’m so thankful that they saved you.”
Aoshi looked at her, not quite knowing what to make of it, but somehow he was touched too deep inside. Moments passed neither one saying a thing as he too sat down on the trunk of the tree. Finally he broke the silence.
“I remember how you use to try to talk Okina into letting you drink sake so you could breathe fire too. Hyottoko would tease you gently about it and show off for you. I still don’t know how he learned how to make fiery rings out of his mouth.”
Misao smiled softly, “I remember, he always told me that playing with fire are for those with fiery hearts.”
“Hmm, sounds like something he would say, as Shikijo would tickle you silly.”
Misao giggled softly, “He loved tickling me, even more he’d bribe me with flower necklaces and flower crowns if I was a good girl, that is until I learned how to make them. Then he and I would enjoy decorating you with them. Then we got Hannya in on the act, he was the one who snuck into your room that night and put them on your head.”
“That was him! I always thought it was you, you little minx! But I never could figure out why I hadn’t woken up.”
“Easy enough, Beshimi put a mild sedative in your tea so you’d sleep more soundly.”
“Oh, and just how much of this did you know?” he arched an eyebrow curiously.
“All of it, but it was all Okina’s idea. He said you looked as planted as a statue so we might as well make you look planted.”
“Nani?! I can’t believe that!”
“It’s true! He came up with the idea, and it was my job to keep you distracted as he and the others conspired in the evenings together to bring the plans to fruition. That’s when I’d drag you off from the Aoiya to go catch fireflies.”
“Oh so I see. So as I watched you catch fireflies, they were catching me offguard.”
“Something like that.”
The fading night gave way to the sound of their voices as they recalled not the deaths of their friends, but their lives. For the briefest of moments, a glimmer of a shade materialized in the clearing in the shadows where neither one of them could see. He took of his ogre mask, smiling, knowing now that he and the others could go to the next world in peace, knowing that the two they cared most for were together, and in that was their strength and happiness.
The spirit faded out as he joined his fellows passing into the next world with joy in their hearts.
The End.
