Author's Note: For Shinobi Love August Challenge- Heat Wave/ Going to the Beach
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In The Dune's Shadow
by Silver Miko
With great relief and loud sigh of pleasure, Okon pressed her face against the towel damp with water. Hot. The weather was far too hot for them to do business, and yet Okina would not close the restaurant for the day. She and Omasu would just have to suffer the discomfort of waitressing in the intense humidity.
At least they weren't in Shiro and Kuro's position of cooking. Glancing over quickly at the two, they looked every bit fatigued and weary from the heat. If the weather was any bother to him, Okina did not show it as he greeted customers at the door and sat them at a table, and Aoshi, who remained upstairs in his office, probably wouldn't react greatly if his head were on fire, Okon mused.
"Okon-son, order's up!" Shiro yelled, pointing to the tray of shabu shabu and miso soup.
Okon groaned.
"One of these days I'm going to refuse to work and the old man's just going to have do it himself!" she declared, grabbbing the tray and exiting the kitchen into the moderately busy restaurant.
Business wasn't as good as it usually was at that time of day, but then fewer people were out, preferring to stay in their homes. The few who had comed out to dine were of remarkable short temper, and it was all Okon could do from resisting the urge to slap customers who took an unwarranted horrid attitude with her.
Omasu was hustling about with a jug of sake, refilling empty dishes, and making Okon wish she had thought to worn a thin yukata as opposed to her ornate yellow kimono. Or wished to be in her Oniwabanshuu uniform, which was marginally of less fabric than her kimono. But she knew the impossibility in that. Facades had to be kept.
One she was glad for, though, was that she was not in Misao's position right now.
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She was dying. She swore it had to be true. Her body was burning up underneath layers of the pink kimono, and she could feel the pool of sweat on her back and under her knees. Her hair, which was up in an intricate bun, was uncomfortable and the hair at the back of her head at the base of her neck was damp.
She had been sitting, kneeling, for hours, but that was not the worst part of it all.
It was the makeup. The heavy powders and paints and charcoals that were layered on her face were suffocating her and she was sure the white showed streaks of sweat beads.
This is a mission, Misao, stop being dramatic and keep focused. It's almost over.
For almost the whole week, Misao had been disguising herself as a geisha to gather information for the Oniwabanshuu from certain businessmen whose activities had become suspect. With generous servings of sake and the batting of eyelashes, the businessmen kept nothing secretive around her.
It was why she opted to take the mission and the others agreed. She was the most unassuming, with her petite frame, and the mission was merely spying and there was no real danger. When she was done at the inn the businessmen were currently staying at, Aoshi would be there to retrieve her, waiting in the shadows. If anyone saw the two, they'd merely think he was seeking the company of a geisha. Those who knew otherwise kept silent, for the Oniwabanshuu had in secret defended Kyoto time and time again.
Misao focused, listening as the middle aged businessmen discussed trade, foreign business, named a few names that Misao filed away in her mind for report later on. It seemed they were not directly dealing illegal goods, but supplying the funding for it. The more people involved in such operations, the larger the paper trail and the more work it took for the police and the government to apprehend all the guilty parties.
She almost jumped when suddenly a sweat hand grasped her ankle, and Misao forced herself to give a polite nervous giggle as she playful pushed the old businessman's hand aside.
"Now now, Shimane-san, let me pour you more sake." she murmured, pouring the man another dish when all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. For some reason he was fascinated with her ankles and had taken to momentarily touching them or giving them a quick stroke every now and then.
Misao longed even more for the mission to end, but kept to her resolve. It was so rare for her to be allowed to take on missions she wanted to without Okina's protests or someone accompanying her.
It didn't make her happy she had to try to filch notices of assignments from her own desk before Aoshi and Okina took them and kept them from her.
"Well gentleman, I think that will conclude our business today because I for one and melting!"
Misao closed her eyes and breathed a relieved sigh. She could get out of there!
"Will you be staying, Misaki-san?" Shimane asked.
She smiled softly and shook her head.
"I'm afraid not. I have other business today."
"Oh, what a shame." the businessman sighed in disappointment and Misao flashed an apolegetic look, forcing herself to not laugh in his face.
She was sure he was disappointed all right.
Scooting back and standing up, Misao politely bowed as she bid the men farewell and exited the inn. Looking around, she realized Aoshi wouldn't be there waiting for her. It was early.
With a shrug of her shoulders, she kept walking. She would just walk home by herself. After a while Misao slowed her gait. It was so hot...
She wiped her forehead, and looked at the white residue on her hand and wiped it off on her kimono. As she glanced to her left she squinted her eyes as the sun reflected off the ocean. Misao blinked, and looked again.
The ocean! Surely the ocean was of cool temperature!
She looked around the path for a few moments, noting there was no one on the dirt path. Not a surprise, no one wanted to travel today. With a grin, she picked up the bottom edge of her kimono and removed her geta shoes and set them against the short wooden guardrail as she stepped over and walked down the short hill towards the small stretch of beach.
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Aoshi quietly, for how else did he ever really operate anyway, walked down the path towards the pleasure district to fetch Misao. He imagined she was worse for wear in the heat, which didn't bother Aoshi in the slightest. Carrying a small bag containing Misao's normal everyday clothes, he would escort her to the nearby Oniwabanshuu hideout to change to keep her cover.
And find new patterns of wood to study to ignore the sounds of her bathing off the white makeup behind the screen. The hideout did not have a seperate bath house, but a small wooden tub behind a screen near the fireplace.
He shouldn't have been bothered by it, but it was there like a prickling itch.
But then it had become impossible to deny Misao was an adult now, from the brief glimpses Aoshi had seen of her the first time she changed from kimono to her uniform.
He had felt the urge to run. Run far, far away from her.
He wouldn't think about it right now. Especially when he had to meet Misao.
And then he sensed something, which made him pause. He looked around, listening. Splashing? He noticed then the small pair of geta shoes he recognized as Misao.
His brain began running with scenarios.
Was she hurt?
Did she fall down the hill?
Was she kidnapped?
Did she see something at the shoreline and fall into the water?
Unsure of what was the most accurate idea, he quickly jumped over the guardrail and moved quickly down the hill and looked around the sandy beach. Listening again, he heard something, sloshing, behind the dune in front of him. Walk quickly around the dune, he froze, mouth opening.
Wide blue eyes stared at him in shock.
"Ao..Ao..Aoshi-sama!" Misao cried out, standing there in only her beige slip, which was almost transparent from being wet. It appeared that Misao had stripped off the layers of her kimono and washed off the geisha makeup in the water. She was quite indecent.
And her expression, with her mouth opening and closing like a fish, obviously betrayed that she hadn't expected anyone to catch her in such a state.
"I...brought your clothes." he murmured, awkwardly thrusting the bag in his hand forward as if he was some nervous boy presenting flowers to the girl he fancied.
She grabbed the bag and muttered a quiet 'thanks'. Aoshi turned slowly, almost mechanically, and walked around to the other side of the dune to give Misao privacy to change.
He was now absolutely sure of it.
"Er...um...I'm all changed." Misao said, not looking directly at him.
"Aa. Let's go home, Misao."
He was doomed. He could feel all his self-denial crumbling. There was no going back, he could never picture Misao as she was a just a kid. He would never get that image out of his head, her slip clinging to her skin.
He was a goner, but it was one surrender, he assured himself as he stole sideglances of her biting her lip, that he was more than willing to succumb to.