The Hundred Item List
By Leishe
Morning dawned on the Aoiya like a hungry cat closing in on a mouse. As the tendrils of bright orange and yellow crept up its age-old walls, the sleepy people residing therein tossed and turned in their beds, reluctant to give up their small sanctuaries of cool darkness and peace.
Soon, the smell of a delicious cooking breakfast would rouse even the most stubborn of sleepers; these were the people who knew they were awake, but refused to accept that, instead making themselves believe that it was all a dream…
The door flew open, rattling to a stop. An impatient ninja woman stood there, with her hands on her hips, not looking too pleased. Two steps forward, towards the sleeper's bed, and she let out an almighty yell.
"MI-SAO! BREAAAKKKFASSSST!"
The woman's shrill voice shook the entire building, breaking some glass chimes in the dojo, two rooms away.
Three miles from the Aoiya, a traveller sank to his knees, covering his ears.
It was enough to scare even the toughest Shishio loyalists clear out of their skins from afar, but imagine having to endure Okon's breakfast trumpet up close. Surely…surely one would not survive such a frightening experience.
"Snort…hhuh?"
Unfortunately, Makimachi Misao's skull was a tad bit thicker than those of normal people, and she just moaned, rolling over onto her side.
"Five minutes…"
Okon sniffed, folding her arms indignantly. She took on a derisive, motherly stance.
"Hmph, what a way for the Okashira to behave! Honestly, you can't have Aoshi-sama waiting all day in the dining room, can you?"
At the mention of 'his' name, and 'in the dining room' in the same sentence, Misao sprang up instantly from her futon, all traces of sleepiness gone, along with her worries.
"Aoshi-sama's HERE? Right NOW?" Her eyes went wide, as she clutched Okon.
The woman blinked. "Er…"
"Where? How? What am I going to do!" Misao began to tear at her hair in distress. The older ninja woman stepped back and just looked at her with a knowing smile on her face.
The Aoshi bluff worked every time.
Suddenly, the sleeper straightened. "I know! I'll make him his favourite green tea!" She hopped out of bed, sidestepped the quietly chuckling Okon and zoomed down the hallway, ready to greet the man she loved most.
.0o0.
"Take that, old man! And that!"
"Why you insolent boy—give me that!"
"Hah! You'll never defeat me! This rice is MINE!"
Okina was there, along with the other residents of the Aoiya, as they sipped their drinks and nibbled at their breakfasts. The old man was currently sparring forks with a visitor over the last of the rice, when everyone heard the characteristic 'dugdurudug' of footsteps come from the other side of the room.
"Oh no…" someone groaned, "Misao."
"Aoshi-samaaaa!" Misao's high, excited voice echoed out, as she skidded to a stop at the breakfast table. All eaters took one look at her, and resumed wolfing down their meals.
She blinked.
"…Aoshi-sama?"
But, sad to say, her dramatic entrance was in vain, for there was no Aoshi-sama sitting at the table. Instead, it was just Okina, Omasu, the two men, and a stranger sitting there, eating their breakfast, like always.
And Misao was sure the stranger wasn't Aoshi, because his hair didn't stick out weirdly, and his eyes didn't have that hidden, mischievous smirk in them.
Her bright expression soon diminished, fading into an irritated look.
From behind, a smiling Okon appeared, handing the young woman a pair of chopsticks.
"Got you again, Misao," she grinned, pushing the girl's shoulders down gently, putting her into a sitting position.
"Must you do this ALL the time, Okon?" The ninja girl waved her hands around angrily to make a point.
"I wouldn't have to if you would wake up properly, like everybody else." Replied the woman.
Omasu chose this time to speak, in between bites of fish. "A beautiful young woman like you shouldn't be running around like a little boy when greeting someone she likes, you know?"
Misao ignored her, choosing instead to concentrate on the most important meal of the day, as Okina called it. The stranger, however, couldn't help but snicker at the 'beautiful young woman' part.
The ninja girl looked up to glare at him. Who was this strange, chicken-haired man anyway?
"Misao," said Okina, "Don't you recognize our guest?"
"No…" she began, "Hey! Wait a minute!" She raised her chopsticks, pointing them at the face of the man sitting across her.
It was a face that she hadn't seen in a very long time.
"I know you…Sanosuke!"
The said man grinned at her, scooping up a pear and taking a quick bite out of it. "Yup. that's me." He paused to flick her nose. "…Weasel Girl."
Misao made a face at him. "What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked, "And where are Himura and the others?"
Sano paused to take another bite. "'M here om bushnush," he said, with his mouth full. Despite herself, Omasu flashed him a look of disgust. Okina noticed it, and chuckled.
"Like I said," the old man commented, "Anyone whose hair sticks up like that can't be any good."
The Zanza paused to thwap the 'old geezer' on the forehead, but was met with his wooden cane.
"My friend Katsu asked me to deliver some paintings of his to a client here in Kyoto." continued Sanosuke, avoiding Okina and tossing the pear's core away. "I thought I'd pass to visit you Oniwabanshu people for a bit."
"Well appreciated, Zanza, well appreciated." Said Okina, rattling his cane. "Just don't try that thwapping business on me again, or you'll get it."
Sano rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, old geezer." Then, he turned to Misao, a squinty look in his eyes.
"What?" she asked.
"Kaoru's asking about you, weasel."
The braided girl looked at him, one brow raised. "I'm fine." The man shook his head. "Not that. She's asking if Shinomori took any notice of you yet. Y'know…"
Misao blinked, reddening all of a sudden. "Well, n-not yet…" the thought of Aoshi asking her out made the butterflies ravaging her stomach even more frenzied.
The chicken-haired one nodded, as if he expected that answer.
"Well then," Sano rose, "I guess I'd better be going." He paused to pick up a square package from the floor, nestled beside a tatami mat. The paintings. Slinging it over his shoulder, the man waved to the rest of them.
Okina nodded, as did Okon and Omasu. "Take care, Sanosuke." the old man said. Misao smirked, "Don't drop any paintings!"
Sanosuke rolled his eyes, "Yeah, like I ever will."
And then, he was gone.
.0o0.
Omasu was now putting the dishes away, and Misao was left at the low table, staring at her unfinished breakfast. Okon was washing the dishes. An uncanny quietness swept over the room, as Okina hobbled out, mumbling something about laundry and bento, with the two men following after him, about to do the morning's chores.
The ninja girl heaved a mighty sigh, as she gulped down the rest of her meal.
"You know," she said after some moments, "Sano was right…I guess Aoshi-sama won't ever ask me out."
Omasu paused to look at Misao, smiling gently and putting the set of dishes she held down.
"Don't say that, Misao-chan. After all, there are plenty of men out there, and you ARE going to be eligible for marriage in about a year. I'm sure that even if the man you'd marry might not be Aoshi-sama, he would be just as kind and loving and gentle…and my, pink would be a nice color to wear on the big day, wouldn't it? And I could decorate the Aoiya with nice pink flowers…" the woman trailed off, lost in thoughts of how pretty the ninja girl would look in a wedding kimono.
The weasel girl heaved another sigh, as she gathered up her dishes and set them aside. Silence settled above them once more, and only the clink of the dishes and the chime of the winds were heard.
"Remember that list you made?" asked Okon all of a sudden.
Misao looked up. "What list?"
"Oh yes! The list of traits you wanted in a man!" Omasu snapped out of her delusion.
"You hid it away somewhere, Misao…I remember that list. You wrote it when you were about seven years old!"
"Uh…no?" the young woman replied. "Besides, I'm sure that I want only ONE man, and his name is Aoshi. Therefore, I don't need a list."
Okon rolled her eyes. "There are hundreds of fish in the sea, girl. And though Aoshi might be the one for you, there's no harm in casting out some nets."
Misao blinked, finding the fish and nets analogy all too annoying. She rested her chin on her palm. "Right…" she mumbled.
Omasu clapped her hands together. "That's the sprit!" She rose instantly, and walked out of the dining area, in the direction of the bedrooms.
Okon and Misao listened to the sound of her footsteps fading.
In a moment, the woman returned, carrying with her a small, rolled-up scroll the color of dust.
"What's that?" asked Misao, though she already knew the answer.
The woman smiled, and patted the scroll. "Your list. It was only now that Okon asked about it that I remembered keeping it all these years. I guess I thought it would help you in the future, Misao-chan."
Okon blinked. "You have a terrible memory, Omasu."
"Let me see," said the girl, reaching out to take the scroll. It was old, and a bit smooth to the touch.
"Be careful," warned Omasu, pointedly ignoring her comrade's remark, "It's quite old. After all, ten years is pretty long…"
Misao stood up and untied the string that held it together. The scroll unrolled, and it was then that the girl saw how long her list really was.
The other end rolled onto the floor. It was a little more than five feet in length.
"It's….long."
Her surprised expression conveyed her feelings rightly. "I wrote this? It must have a hundred items!"
Okon nodded. "It is."
Misao began reading.
"Misao's list of things she wants in a husband. One. He must be tall. Two. Dark. Three. Handsome. Four. He must be the leader of the Oniwabanshu. Five. He must know how to make paper balloons. Six…"
Soon, the girl looked up. "Aoshi fits the first twenty items perfectly." With a satisfied smile, she began to roll it back into place.
"I'm not surprised if he fits the last eighty," agreed Omasu folding her arms, "But why don't you consider crossing out a few items?"
Misao thought. Or at least she pretended to think. She tapped her lip several times.
"…maybe."
Then, she straightened up, tucking the list into the cloth sash of her outfit. "I'm going to train now. See you guys later!"
With a wave, a duck and a grin, the girl exited, off to a running jump out of the dining room.
A few leaves rustled, as the lithe Misao lunged into a tree.
Both ninja woman groaned good-naturedly. 'I'm going to train now' was Misao's excuse to either take a long walk by the river, or go off spying on random people in town, which usually got her into trouble.
"Let her be," Okina had once said. "If she gets US into trouble, that's when you chop off her braid."
Omasu considered those wise words for such a frivolous old man.
.0o0.
"Ah! I can't reach it! Higher, Mamoru!"
"If I go any higher, I'll break my neck!"
"Just do it!"
"Uurgh!"
The small hand reached out wildly to grab the boxed lunch that hung from the tip of a pole. Two short, childish figures wobbled unsteadily on top of each other, with the girl yelling for the boy to boost her a bit higher.
"Hrm…if only Taro wasn't such a meanie!" grumbled the small girl.
Some older boys had taken the two children's midday meal earlier, and had decided to put it somewhere they couldn't get it back from.
The bottom of the box brushed the tip of the little girl's middle finger lightly, but that was all. Below her, her brother struggled with the weight she was putting on his shoulders.
"Komachi—" he warned.
"'Little more!" she said; determined. If their mother found out that the bullies had done this to them again, they would get into even more trouble. This had been the third time in a week that Komachi and Mamoru had had to go home with empty stomachs.
"I think I can almost reach it!"
She squinted her eyes, extending her already stretched fingers towards their lunch.
"Let me get that for you."
Out of nowhere, a hand plucked the package from the tip of the pole easily, and the little girl was too surprised to say anything, instead tumbling over her brother.
"Ugh!"
Both children fell on top of each other in a cloud of dust. After Komachi got herself off of Mamoru, dusting her dress as she stood, the stranger who had rescued their lunch handed the box to her with an oddly out of place smile.
The little girl accepted it reluctantly, as her brother studied the stranger with curiosity.
"Th-thank you."
He was a little bit shorter than most of the men they had seen passing through town, and had pleasant facial features. Short, brown bangs framed the young man's wide blue eyes, and his mouth was shaped in a way that made it look like it was meant for smiling.
Mamoru cocked his head to one side.
"Have I seen you before, mister?" he asked.
The stranger blinked. "No, I don't think so. I haven't been here in a long time."
The young boy looked a little disappointed. "Oh. I see."
It was then that Komachi noticed the sheath hanging from the man's side. Curiosity piqued, the child tugged at the stranger's blue gi. He looked at her questioningly.
"Are you a swordsman?" she asked, brown eyes wide.
He smiled.
"Sometimes. But right now, I'm just a poor wanderer looking for a warm place to stay. Would you know of any?"
Komachi shrugged. "There's the inn, but kaasan says it's a bit expensive. You could always try that place where the Oniwashu people live."
"It's Oniwabanshu," corrected Mamoru, "And 'tousan says they live in the Aoiya."
The girl rolled her eyes. "Same thing." Then, her eyes suddenly flew to the sky. "Hey! The sun's over there already!" A small, thin hand pointed a finger at the glowing disc of yellow.
Mamoru blinked. A worried look began to grow on his face. "Uh-oh…sensei says he'll spank us if we're late again!"
"Let's go!" urged his sister, jumping up and down impatiently.
"Right," nodded the little boy, turning to the stranger. "Thanks again, mister. By the way, what's your name?"
"MAMORU!" complained Komachi, "Remember the spanking!"
The young man laughed softly, although the feeling was new to him. "You're welcome. And you can call me T—ah…Soujiro. Seta Soujiro."
"Mm!" answered the boy, nodding with a smile. "See you, then, Seta-san!" He began running off with his sister, who was currently in the lead. A trail of dust clouds 'poofed' behind their small feet, as the two children slowly began to disappear into the crowd of people in town.
Soujiro Seta smiled, feeling the cool breeze ruffle his hair gently. As the young man set off with the intention of finding a place to spend the night, the thought of seeking refuge at the Aoiya crossed his mind momentarily.
'I wonder if they'll remember me?' he wondered.
.0o0.
As Misao wove her way through the crowd—as she always did, after breakfast—she felt two bodies stumble against her, as she walked along.
The young woman bent down to see a little girl tugging at a little boy's arm. She was holding what Misao assumed was a boxed lunch in her other hand.
"Are you two okay?" she asked, pulling the little boy up. He immediately began dusting his hair off, and bowed to her.
"Thanks," he muttered hurriedly, and began to scurry off past Misao, with his little sister at his heels.
"Hey, wait up Mamoru!" the young girl called, shrill voice piercing the air.
The crowd parted for the two children for a moment, but when Misao blinked, the sea of people had swallowed them once again.
After reading soumi fics for some time, I've decided to write one! Yay:) Chapter two will be up soon, hopefully. Please review:)