Nine years. It's been nine years since I'd last visited Kyoto. I walk down the bustling streets by the port, smiling a little. It's this feeling of nostalgia but also of awkwardness. I do not belong here. Like visiting a childhood friend after nine years of not seeing them. But I am here to see someone after nine years. And I hope it won't be awkward. No. It's the two of them. They won't be awkward. I stop walking and then almost laugh out loud. Oh! There's going to be three of them now. A little girl who's supposedly just like her mother. At the thought of her mother, I smile involuntarily.

The flower-seller seems not to be faring well. But I lighten him one bouquet of his trade. White lilies. A sort of inside joke if you will. And she really doses like those flowers. Did, I mean. Who knows how much she's changed after so long.

I know I've changed. Not just in looks – I've softened out a few edges here and there, searched after a few truths, found one or two that fit me and combined them – but I'm still looking for the big one. And then of course, back to the looks. I am unfortunately no longer a beardless boy of eighteen – unfortunately because that look rather suited me. I don't have a beard even now, but that's because I shaved. Two days ago. Does stubble count? My taste in clothes has not changed, but circumstances have forced me to abandon light colors. They stain and show dirt easily when travelling. So subdued grey-blue and dark forest green it is. Ah! My hair. I'm rather proud of this one. No time to cut one's hair on the road so I sport a long ponytail. I rather think it suits me. Or, at least, those girls by the tea shop think it does. I wave and wink, blowing a kiss.

There is a tie, holding my sword in its sheath. I have not broken that tie for five years now. And as I walk up the streets of Kyoto, heading towards the Aoiya I rest my arm on the hilt of my katana. A sword at one hip and flowers in my hand. I may seem like a strange one. But rather handsome and mysterious, don't you think?

Lost in my thoughts, I do not notice a small shape darting in and out of the crowd, finally plowing into me, sending me flying backwards and the bouquet flying out of my hand. "Oof!" I exclaim in an undignified manner, looking down at my tiny assailant.

"Watch where you're going!" she says petulantly, lisping a little because of a gap in her teeth. She looks about six years old, possibly younger. I've never been good with telling ages.

I look at her with mock offence. "You're the one who bumped into me." I say, standing up and dusting myself off.

"Yeah, but you were in my way!" she says, crossing her arms.

I crouch down to face her. She has very pale blue eyes that I was sure I'd seen somewhere before, and a pout that I'm absolutely certain I'd seen before. "Now, now." I say with a smile. "What exactly are you running from?"

She looks at me as if sizing me up. "I'm running from Mom." She answers. "Mom wants to give me a bath." She adds by way of explanation.

"And what's your name?"

"Sakura." She says. "Like in the springtime."

I smile. "Isn't your mother going to be upset that you ran away, Sakura-chan?"

Sakura-chan shrugs. "I think she'd be pretty used to it at this point." She says.

I cannot suppress a laugh at that. "You must be a little handful…" I mutter, more to myself than to her.

Shrugging again, Sakura-chan grins and that grin is very, very familiar. "Great-grandpa says that Mom was even worse as a kid. She hid on the roof." She raises a small chubby finger. "I don't go further than that shop." She points a little way down the street and grins.

"You know, Sakura-chan…" I say with a smile. "You remind me very much of someone I know."

"Who?" she asks.

"…A very energetic young woman who I liked. I bet she was exactly like you as a child."

"You marry her?" she pauses. "And I'm not a child!"

I laugh. "Goodness no! That was a very long time ago. She's married to someone else now with a very cute little daughter." I tap her nose with my index finger. "Like you." I stand up and offer her my hand. "How about you go to your mother now, Sakura-chan?"

"But I hate baths!" she protests. But she takes my hand and begins to lead me up the street. The street that begins to look familiar for some reason.

Suddenly I stop. It's her. Walking down the street, looking around, searching for something. Her hair is pinned up in the back and her kimono is sea-green to match her eyes. God, those eyes. "Misao-chan?" I say slowly.

She whips around and looks first at me, then to little Sakura-chan who's looking up at me with confusion and tugging on my hand. "…Who…" she manages, and I can see the glint of kunai in her hand, concealed by her sleeve.

I force a light laugh. "Has it truly been so long that you do not recognize your favorite Soujiro-kun?" I ask. She's so beautiful. So… Alive. I forgot what it felt like just to be standing next to her.

A smile appears on her face. "Oh!" then she looks down at Sakura-chan and her eyes narrow. "How many times did I tell you not to run away, huh?"

Wait. What?! Oh god. So this Sakura-chan is her kid? I stare at her. "She's yours?" I ask slowly. Of course she is. I was an idiot not to have seen this before.

Misao-chan shrugs then grins. "Half mine, half Aoshi-sama's." she shakes her head. "Honestly though, she's nothing like me. At her age I was-"

Sakura-chan meets Misao-chan's stern gaze with a mirror image. "Great-grandpa says you were climbing on the roof and put a cricket in someone's rice and then you hid in his futon closet for four hours! And then you snuck into the kitchen and ate all the sweets – but you were sick and that's how they ended up finding you finally."

"T-that's not… Do as I say, not as I did! I did a lot of other things at your age that you shouldn't do!"

I begin to laugh. "Oh, she is your child through and through, Misao-chan." Why does it hurt? She looks so happy, her child is exactly like her, and she… Hasn't changed at all in these nine years… I take a cautious step in her direction. "Where's Aoshi-san?"

Misao-chan shrugs. "Oh probably making dinner again." She looks down at Sakura-chan. "If you don't come home and take a bath right now, Dad won't make your favorite tempura." She said warningly.

Sakura-chan pouts but takes her mother's outstretched hand. Misao-chan looks over her shoulder and smiles at me. "Come on, I'll treat you to dinner! It's been such a long time! Goodness, you've changed so much I didn't even recognize you!"

The bouquet of white lilies lies forgotten on the road.

**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**

At dinner, there is a pleasant conversation, of my travels, of affairs in Kyoto. Aoshi-san looks to be himself, albeit older, maybe a little more relaxed. I swear upon my honor – he smiled more than three times! If this had been nine years ago, I'd've been expecting the apocalypse! Sakura-chan, now cleaner than I first met her sat cross-legged, using her chopsticks to deftly steal pieces of fried meat off my plate as I duly pretend not to notice. Okina-san, Omasu-san, Kuro-san, Okon-san and Shiro-san all sit at the table with us. Okina-san is as spry as he was when I first met him and his sense of humor is just as questionable.

"I am not staying for long." I say after Aoshi-san offers to set me up with some quality cheap housing – or at least a room at the Aoiya for the time being. "I actually…" I smile, looking down at the table. "I plan on going far away. Out of the country."

Misao-chan chokes. "Where?" she asks. Aoshi-san raises an eyebrow, wordlessly asking the same question.

"…America." I smile. "Maybe if I get tired of that place, I'll go to Korea, or maybe Arabia. Possibly China." I grin. "I haven't decided yet."

"Where's America?" Sakura-chan pipes up.

"Ehh… Well…" I say. "It's if you go left of Japan and keep going across, past China and Africa it'd be somewhere there. It's gonna take more than ten years of wandering Japan to find a way of life."

She nods slowly. "I think I've seen it on a map." She looks up at me with her father's eyes but her mother's face. "Why?" she asks simply.

"Because by going far, far away and by doing things I've never done before, I can sort of… Find my truth."

"Truth?"

"How I should live."

Sakura-chan grins. "You're gonna have a lot of fun too, though, right?"

I smile. "Of course!"

"Can I come with you?" she asks excitedly. "I wanna see lots of places too!"

"I think your mom and dad would have something to say about that." Everyone laughs.

Misao-chan wipes a bit of rice off her daughter's chubby cheek and Aoshi pats the kid's head. "We need you here at the Aoiya. When you're a little older, all right?"

"Okay!"

After dinner, the three of us, Aoshi-san, Misao-chan and I sit on the engawa, drinking green tea, watching Sakura play in the garden with the fireflies. I smile absentmindedly. "You two seem to be doing well, hm?" I say after a bout of comfortable silence.

"Aa."

"Yeah!"

They answer at the same time and I feel this strange twinge as Misao-chan giggles, looking up at Aoshi-san. They're so in love with each other… I smile inadvertently. Seeing Misao-chan so happy, I can't help myself.

**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**00**

I leave early in the morning and head for the port, buying another bouquet of white lilies beforehand and leaving them in the doorway. The ship that I'll be going to America on took me as a cook. I'll have to earn my keep, not having enough cash to pay up front. I breathe in the ocean air, the breeze ruffling my kimono. One last time – before boarding, I look back at the faint rooftop of the Aoiya.

I smile, and I actually feel that it's a smile, neither a nervous tic, nor an act. But I'm sad.

…Goodbye.

Then I notice something rushing at me and before I can react, I'm whipped in the side with a long braid, then slapped in the face with a bouquet of flowers that I recognize as the ones I left at the Aoiya's door.

Misao-chan is wearing her ninja uniform, breathing hard. "I haven't run like that since…" she panted. Then she looked up at me with sharp sea-green eyes. "How dare you leave without saying goodbye, dumbass?" she exclaims with outrage.

We stare at each other, then I begin to laugh and she joins me. I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not one for goodbyes, really. You don't like the flowers?"

"Sakura's gonna be real disappointed not to say goodbye to you."

"Sakura-chan knew me for less than a day."

Misao-chan laughs. "She told me before bed, she's gonna marry you when she grows up." She grins. "And then Aoshi-sama was all like, 'Tch, first the guy's after Misao, now my kid? What's next, my aunt?"

"I sure hope not!" I say. "I may be extremely popular with the ladies – but I think I'll draw the line at Aoshi-san's aunt."

"He doesn't even have an aunt."

"Ah! A perfect excuse not to court her!"

We laugh and I look at the ship I am about to board, then back at her. I smile again, then stoop to kiss her hand. "I'm pretty sure that's what they do in America." I say with a wink. "See you later and thanks for everything, Misao-chan!"

She grins and pinches my cheek, rolling her eyes. "Oi, I'm married now and this's Japan!"

From the deck, I wave at her as the ship pulls out of the harbor. "Send my regards to Aoshi-san!" I yell. "Tell Sakura-chan that if I come back to Japan, I'll get her a souvenir!"

Misao-chan waves and smiles, the bouquet of white lilies in her hand waving in the wind, as if the flowers were waving goodbye too. I realize that I'm crying and laughing at the same time. I watch until Misao-chan completely disappears and then look down at the greenish-blue ocean that is the color of her eyes. "Goodbye." I whisper. "Goodbye, Misao-chan."