Disclaimer- Rurouni Kenshin and its characters belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki, not me.


Boutique of Memories - Part I

Pull out, measure, cut, snip, and wrap.

This was the mantra drilled into the ebony haired girl ever since she was a child. Her tiny hands carefully cut a piece of blue ribbon and tied it around the bouquet before handing it the woman standing before and accepting the charge.

This is Makimachi Misao, a twenty-four year-old young woman who owned and operated her own, well her deceased grandfather's, flower shop. She sighed as her deep, sea-foam blue eyes stared out the window, at the sunny sky and the happy people walking past her windows.

She used to crave and beg to visit her grandfather's shop. She remembered how care free life had been when she would pretend the aisles of the shop were an enchanted forest. Remorsefully, the girl brushed a strand of her lengthy hair out of her face.

And then he had arrived. It was like a perfect ending to her fairy tale in the enchanted forest. She was the princess, lost in a forest, and he. He was the valiant knight, the handsome prince that would come to her rescue time and time again.

And she remembered, with a sorrowful smile, that he would always bring her flowers. Every single day.

"Ohayo Makimachi-san." Misao snapped out of her reverie to see a short, scarlet haired, young man approach her.

"Ohayo Himura-san," she greeted in reply. The male smiled, his violet eyes filled with warmth and compassion. "The usual?"

"No," he answered, surprising the girl. "I'd like a bouquet of red gladiolus as well, de gozaru." Misao smiled and nodded as she began to put together the first bouquet. The first was just plain white plum blossoms. These were for his ex-wife, as Misao had come to learn. They had never really been in love. It had been more of a comfort situation. However, this wasn't the case for his wife today. Kamiya Kaoru, or Himura Kaoru as she was known, was a beautiful kendo instructor that had captured the redhead's heart.

Misao tied a yellow ribbon around the white blossoms before laying the bouquet in front of Himura. She then began on the second one, the one for Kaoru. This one was yellow roses, for they were her favorite flower. As she taped the wrapping, Himura began to talk.

"Those gladioli are actually for Megumi-dono," he began. Megumi was a cancer specialist married to Himura's best friend, Sagara Sanosuke. "She gave birth earlier today to a baby boy." Misao smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes, but no one noticed.

"Really? Then, please give her my congratulations as well Himura-san." He nodded. Misao carefully placed the gladiolus in the wrapping. Taping the cover shut, she finished with a cerulean ribbon. She then handed all three bouquets to Himura. He took out the amount and handed it to her before wishing her a good day and exiting. Misao watched him leave, watched the light strike the scarlet hair as he stepped into the sun, and watched as his gait was that same confident stride that he had. Sighing, Misao turned around, grabbing a spray bottle. It was time to water the plants.


It was raining. Misao stared, tracing the path of a particular droplet with her eyes. The day had gone from sunny and bright to rainy and dark in only an hour, she mused quietly. It was just like that day. The day he left.

It had been a shock. He was there one day, and then, the next he was gone. It had been a Wednesday. They always met at the flower shop on Wednesdays. She had waited. And waited. And waited, and still he hadn't come. Finally, she ran to his house. The gates were locked. The curtains were shut. The sign stating "Shinomori" was gone. He was gone.

She had come home a few hours later, drenched in rain and her own tears. She hadn't even responded to her cousins' reprimands. Quietly, she had just trudged up the stairs and closed herself in her room. She would stay in there for five more days.

The first day, she had just cried. Not knowing why, she had spent the day wallowing in tears. Her surrogate grandfather and her cousins had tried everything, but she just wouldn't stop.

The second day, she gained the knowledge, and she grieved. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. This time, her family let her grieve.

The third day, she tried to understand why. She looked through every picture, every memory. Had she don't something to drive him away? She didn't know.

The fourth day, she let go. He was gone, and she finally understood that. Why? She didn't think she'd ever find, or ever want to know.

The fifth day, she moved on. She picked up her pieces and glued them back together.

"Misao-san?" Once again, the girl snapped out of her reverie to stare into light blue eyes and mousy brown hair.

"Seta-san, what can I get you?" Before her stood a young man that seemed harmless. He had been coming to the flower shop for ten months now. Everyday he would strike up a friendly conversation with the girl, trying to open her up. But Misao never responded. She kept with the conversation until it took at personal turn. She'd then withdraw and wish the young man 'goodbye' or 'have a nice day'. Today, he began the same way as always.

"I'd like a bouquet of Madonna lilies." Misao nodded and began to put together his order. She remembered once, a while back, he had tried to buy her flowers. And Misao, she had just replied by saying 'I hate flowers.'

It was true. She had begun to hate flowers after he left. She never liked them after that. So what was she doing, running flower shop? Hell if she knew.

"You seem troubled, Misao-san." The girl stared at the male looking at her. Sighing, she put a smile on her face.

"I'm fine, Seta-san," she replied, as she stepped out from the behind the counters to get the roll of tape out of her other apron. But as she passed him, the male grabbed her, pulling her to face him, and smashed his lips against hers. Misao's eyes widened in shock. Pulling her hands out of his grip, she pushed him off of her, and backed away, wiping off her mouth. The man stared at her in regretful shock.

"I'm sorry Misao-san. I didn't---"

"Just leave, Seta-san. Just leave." Misao handed him the bouquet, glaring at him all the while. The man nodded and left, leaving a few bills on the counter. Misao gasped, keeping her emotions on hold. How could he? How dare he?

Misao sighed as she took off her apron. It was late, nearly eleven. Walking over to the door, she switched the sign from open to closed. She then picked up the apron and hung it. Grabbing the spray bottle, she walked around the shop, doing her last round for the night. This was her favorite part really. It was the only time she could walk and remember every little thing that had happened in the shop. Like her first kiss. Gods, her first kiss.

It had been cloudy, foggy, and plain horribly cold. So she decided to steal his book and run off. It then turned into a game of cat and mouse. And he was relentless. He finally caught her then, in the darkest corner of the store, underneath the rose arcs. And he decided to punish her. And she, she just watched as his face descended towards hers and his lips caught hers.

It was beautiful, the wonderful thing she had ever experienced. They were cocooned in their own world, surrounded by the scent of roses and falling petals. His lips were soft and he tasted of coconut pocky. It felt like it lasted forever. If only it had.

Misao sighed as she returned to the counter. Grabbing her jacket, she stopped as her eyes fell on the necklace hanging on a pin. It was a plain black cord with a sliver pendant. The pendant was kanji, and it said his name; Aoshi. Smiling sadly, she grabbed it and strung it around her neck. She then walked over to the door and stepped outside, locking it shut.

Misao walked off then, into the night, wearing his name around her neck.

"There is always a rainbow after the storm."


(A/N): This is probably my first time doing a darker-angst entry for a challenge.

Anyway, this is the first part, focusing on Misao. The second is Aoshi. I'll get it up soon.

A big thank you goes out to Zelianyu for beta reading this for me. Her comments were so helpful in the editing in the revision of this part. Thank you so much!

Well, leave me some feedback!