Based loosely on parts of 'On My Own' from Les Miserables.
Title: Crying for the Moon
Author: Hiko Mokushi
Prompt: #011. Moon
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin.
Summery: A dog was howling loudly somewhere. AxM
Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head
On my own
Pretending he's beside me
You'd think being a house of ninjas would make it hard to sneak out of the Aoiya.
Maybe it was because she was a ninja. Maybe it was because Omasu and Okon had been working all day and had wanted to retire to their rooms after their baths to sleep the night away. Maybe it was because Aoshi-sama never left his room after supper. Maybe it was because Shiro and Kuro were holed up in their rooms, staring at lewd pictures of naked women that they had stolen from Okina's office.
Picking her sandals up in her left hand, cradling them just right so that when she moved they wouldn't clack together.
She had a nasty habit of getting caught.
She refused to get caught this time.
Carefully, she slid the paper door open, careful not to let it crinkle and make noise. Misao glanced across the hall, in the direction of Aoshi's room. If anybody caught her, it'd be him. And knowing him, he'd punish her.
She didn't think that was exactly fair, as she was the Okashira, but Okina never battled a gray eyelash when he did it.
Misao slipped the door shut behind her, padding silently down the steps. Years of training by Hannya had gradually found a source from which to escape: Helping Misao Sneak Out. She wasn't quite sure that if Hannya were alive he'd be very happy with her doing it, but well, what Hannya didn't know would hurt him.
Life was different now. She could truly say that she'd grown up.
She was haunted. Haunted by the memories that the Aoiya brought to her when she took the time to step out of her body, away the hustle and bustle of normal life and realize that her entire childhood had fled her in a single night. A single night when she'd stood by the window and cried, unable to follow those whom she loved. Misao stopped at the foot of the stairs and peered around the ghost-like Aoiya and let the memories of her younger years wash over her, tasting each and every satisfying prick at her heart as though it were a salty tear on her tongue.
There would be no Hannya for her to run to and stare at – uncaring if the man wore a mask to protect the other from the beast; no Beshimi to play tag with and learn how to properly throw kunai. Shikijo would no longer lift her childlike form up into the air and twirl her as like a father would. Hyottoko could no longer breathe flames into the fires late at night to her amusement. Aoshi would tell her stories to make her fall asleep at night.
Nighttimes dreams didn't satisfy her, nor did the closeness that day could bring.
Silently, Misao marched towards the door out of the Aoiya, her eyes set on something in the distance. At the door, she paused, glancing over her shoulder to the steps she'd quietly descended, wondering what Okina would say if he knew she was sneaking out again. She was not supposed to go outdoors after dark.
She shook her head and pushed the door open quietly, then shut it behind her as she walked out.
A knock at the door pulled him from his slumber, and he blinked through the darkness, staring at the silhouetted form of an old man at his door. "Okina?" he asked, his voice ragged from sleep.
The elderly man walked into the room, his face illuminated slightly by the silver light pooling from his window.
"Have you seen Misao, Aoshi-san?" Okina asked, his voice piqued with curiosity and slight worry.
"Misao?" Aoshi echoed, still slightly concussed at being asked questions so soon after being woken up.
He closed his eyes and rubbed at them with his eyes before his brain flashed a cheery face with raven hair, coiled in a tight brain. "Aa." He coughed and then sat up. "I don't know." He glanced around, rubbing at his bare chest. "I haven't seen her since she served me tea this morning."
Okina seemed puzzled. "That's odd. She's not in the Aoiya." Then he shrugged and turned around. "I'm sure she'll turn up. Sorry for disturbing you."
Aoshi blinked. "What time is it?"
"A little after midnight."
He started. "And she's still not home yet?" The man started to get up, but Okina shushed him, waving him off.
"Iie." She won't leave the Aoiya after dark, not since she was almost attacked. She'll be fine." Okina closed the door, but not before he heard Aoshi muttering angrily.
The man sat up on his futon, pushing his blanket off to the side. He rubbed his face furiously his large hand, closing his eyes. What was that girl thinking!
Surely, she should know not to go out in the town after dark. She was, after all, the Okashira, as well as prominent member of the Oniwabanshuu. She was known as close to both himself and Okina. She was in danger every time she set foot outside the Aoiya, let alone when she decided to take a midnight stroll. Had she no common sense? Sure, Hannya had trained her, and he had even taken time to teach her a few things. But that didn't make her invincible.
Aggravated, Aoshi rose from his futon, pacing his room slightly.
He'd lost his temper with her when she'd wandered out into the night previously, when she'd almost had her pockets picked rather violently. It wasn't a big thing – almost everyone nowadays had been 'mugged'. It wasn't the point that she'd almost had her money stolen. It was the point that she had put herself into that circumstance. Hadn't he taught her well enough? Hadn't she figured that she should mind him?
All those long talks with Okina and Himura had gone to his head. If he, Shinomori Aoshi, her Aoshi-sama, had slowly but surely been starting understand how much Makimachi Misao had been growing up, then how much did the men of town notice?
What did those young men see in her when they saw her running around in her makeshift Oniwabanshuu uniform?
He paled at the thought of what he would want to do to those men if he could see in their minds.
A loud baying caused him to swing around, almost growling as he stalked to the window. A dog was howling loudly from somewhere inside the Aoiya. Aoshi grunted and slid the pane shut with a snap before returning to his bed, reminding himself to check out where a dog could have snuck in.
It wasn't until the dog, though muted slightly, had finally stopped howling did he fall asleep.
Misao yawned, stifling it against the back of her hand as she held the serving tray against her thigh.
"Makimachi-chan? She turned towards the voice; a group of older businessmen, sitting in the corner of the restaurant, smiled at her. "More tea please?"
"Of course," she replied, giving a tiny bow. "Right away." Swinging around happily, she held her tray to her chest, walking towards the kitchen.
Omasu was standing before the stove, preparing some soup, her eyes focused on the simmering bowl. Okon walked passed by her, giving her a disgruntled look as she carried a tray of sake out into the restaurant. The kitchen itself smelled wonderful, as it practically burst with the different scents of rice, soup, sake and tea.
"I need more tea for Matsuigi-san," she said, arranging three small tea cups on her small tray. If the balance between the cups was perfectly proportioned, then the tray was easier to carry, and she could balance it on one hand like Omasu and Okon could do without making a fool of herself. The two of them liked to joke her arms weren't strong enough to hold up the tea.
Omasu glanced at her over her shoulder, before returning her downcast eyes towards the soup. "You know how to get tea, Misao-chan," she snapped, unusually sharp. "Get it yourself."
Misao blinked at her, furrowing her brow as she placed her hands on her hips. "Mou? What's wrong with you? You're not usually so snappy."
"And I normally don't have to go searching all of Kyoto to make sure you're not being taken advantage of in a dark alley!" Omasu growled, spinning and pointing her wet spoon at the younger girl. "And normally I can get a decent amount of sleep."
"Huh?" Misao's eyes widened, shaking her head slightly; her long braid danced at her back. "But I was just out in the back garden. Why were you searching through the town for me?"
"Because Okina was worried." Omasu wiped her brow before glaring. "He seemed to think you might have been stupid and gone back to town when you weren't supposed to."
Misao crossed her arms, an angry glower upon her face. "Well, he was wrong!"
She grabbed the tea forcefully off the stove, hard enough to make its china-top rattle. Ignoring that she spilled some on the table, she poured it vehemently, and then set it back down on the table with a loud clatter. Okon walked into kitchen, nearly being toppled by Misao as she picked up the tray and turned suddenly.
"Ooi! Misao-chan! Watch where you are going!"
Misao ignored her and marched out of the kitchen, over to the group of men who requested the tea just moment before. "You're tea, Matsuigi-san," she said loudly, setting her tray down with a clatter and handing out the tea, her face flushing ugly. The men seemed to understand she was upset and did not reply to her comment. She turned furiously, only to find herself face to face with Okina.
"Outside," he murmured quietly, though sternly.
"Mou! Jiya!"
"Now, Misao!" His blue eyes were cold when she glared into them.
Growling, the girl nearly flung the shoji door open, paced outside and then slammed the door shut again, her sandaled feet slapping the floor hard. A few customers had glanced up, but Okina smiled and bowed politely, saying, "Onegai, continue your meals." Then he opened the rice-paper door and slid it shut without a sound.
"Misao, I'm disappointed in you."
Misao whirled from where she'd been leaning against the wall, her sea-green eyes blazing. "Nani?" she shouted, and then lowered her voice when she saw Okina's eyes sweep towards the Aoiya door and then back to her face. "I didn't do anything, Jiya! Omasu already told me you sent her and Okon out to look for me in town. I was in the garden! Why am I being punished for something that I didn't do?"
"Do not lie to me, Misao," Jiya said, his voice clipped. She dropped onto the floor, pulling her legs up to her chest at his severity. "I told you not to leave the Aoiya after dark. That included the house as well. You are in harms way when you wander about at night. I thought you understood that." Okina shook his head sadly. "You're family in my eyes, Misao. Times are changing. There are those who don't care if you're a young girl." His eyes hardened.
"I checked the garden myself – you were not there last night." Misao glanced away, her eyes on the ground. "You're to leave the Aoiya only under the command of Omasu, Okon, or myself."
Okashira be damned, I guess.
"Yes, Jiya," she replied softly, refusing to look up. "How. . . how did you know?"
"A dog woke Okon last night and she went to prepare some tea to help her sleep. You're door was partially open." Misao cursed herself for not checking to make sure that her door had been properly closed. She had been too intent on making the least bit of sound. It was tiny mistakes like that that made her vulnerable.
Her head dipped a fraction of an inch lower as she murmured, "Sumimasen, Jiya." Misao finally lifted her head to glance at him, finding that he was still staring at her seriously. "I just needed to think, is all."
A tiny, knowing smile curled at the corner of Okina's lips. "I know," he replied, before holding his arms out to her. She rose and embraced him, sorry that she had disobeyed his orders, as well as made him worry. "Now," he said softly, "go bring Aoshi his tea. He should be expecting you."
Misao blinked and then pulled back, her face lighting up. "Arigatou!" she exclaimed before rushing back into the kitchen. "Gomen," she said, offering the two older ladies a tiny bow. "I'm sorry you spent all night looking for me." She glanced up. Okon had replaced Omasu at the stove, who now sat, eating a small dish of ramen. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
Okon chuckled. "We know."
"Just don't make a habit of it," Omasu chided. Her face was tired, but her smile held no trace of betterment. "We've got lives too. Sleep is a precious thing. We may not be old hags yet, but we need sleep too."
Misao smiled at Omasu's poor attempt at humor.
"Don't be late now," Okon said, pushing a tray of two cups and a small kettle of tea into Misao's waiting hands. "Aoshi-san will be expecting you for his tea."
"Hai!"
"Gomen nasai, Aoshi-sama!" she exclaimed as she finally made her way into the temple room where he sat, his feet curled up underneath him slightly, his eyes shut. "Kuro ran into me and I had to go refill the kettle and get new cups. Omasu is going to murder him when she sees that he caused me to break the china."
She stared, setting down the tray, noticing that Aoshi had yet to acknowledge her. "Aoshi-sama?"
The man blinked and then glanced at her, nodding his head. "Daijoubu, Misao," he said, reaching for a steaming cup of tea. He took a drink almost immediately, closing his eyes. Misao took her own cup and blew at it first, before taking a small sip. She glanced up at him from beneath the fringe of her bangs.
"I suppose that Okina spoke to you," Aoshi suddenly sad, startling her as she stared at her cup. "About you're little nighttime outings."
Misao lowered her eyes again and nodded.
"That's good. It's not safe for you to be wandering about after dark."
Her eyes flashed and she readied herself, taking a deep breath, but Aoshi beat her to it. "I don't mean that because you're not able to take care of yourself," he said, his soft voice slightly muffled by the teacup he held in front of his face, eyes still closed. Misao wasn't sure if he'd spoken so much words to her while drinking tea. . . ever. "But you shouldn't have to. That's our duty."
The young woman blinked up at him, setting her cup down. "Why is it your duty?"
"I made a promise." Her breath caught in her throat. "As for the others. . . they care."
Misao nodded absently, glancing at him sideways.
She took a sip of her tea, and then set it down, a strange feeling flitting around in the pit of her stomach. "Thank you for the tea, Misao." Aoshi put his cup back on the tray and she nodded slightly. She got up, smoothing down her Oniwabanshuu outfit before picking up the tray and nodding slightly.
"You're welcome, Aoshi-sama."
Misao walked slowly out of the temple, her tray balanced gingerly on her hip with both hands, and casting wary glances at Aoshi over her shoulder. When she finally stepped out of his train of view, Aoshi smiled slightly, folding his hands in his lap before he returned to his meditation; he found he couldn't concentrate for the rest of the afternoon.
This time, she made sure to shut the door fully. She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.
Once again, her eyes searched the bedroom quarters, her eyes fixed for anything that could possibly show somebody awake: a light from under somebody's shoji, the shuffling of papers, or the telltale shifting of somebody getting out of bed. She calmed her breathing.
Nobody had yet found her out. She breathed a silent sigh of relief, happy that nobody had yet discovered her secret. She held her sandals perfectly, determined to make it out of the Aoiya without raising anybody's suspicion.
She made it down the steps, and paused, her knees bent, eyes searching the darkness around her like she'd been taught.
"Misao."
She stiffened, turning slightly towards the exiting door of the Aoiya, the betraying dark shadow of the moonlight splattered floor revealing her stalker painfully. Misao turned silently and stood, never saying a word as Aoishi stood in the doorframe, his dark blue eyes focused on hers. He looked even more beautiful in the light of the moon, though she'd never admit it to anybody's face. The moonlight lit his ebony hair, turning it balefully dark silver, his eyes seeming to glow, his skin, perfectly white.
She attempted a grin. "Yes, Aoshi-sama?"
He stiffened and his eyes narrowed, and she knew she been caught. "What are you doing?" he asked harshly, never moving from his position at the door – blocking her exit. She'd have no chance of pushing past him, and she'd never attempt to force her way out. "You said you understood."
"I'm not really going out of the Aoiya, Aoshi-sama," she stressed quietly, her voice a pleading whisper. She paced forward, her hands stretched out toward him, like she'd done when she was a mere child. "Please."
"It's not safe, Misao," he recited, echoing Okina's words from earlier.
Misao flinched. "I know. But really, nobody's going to get me where I'm going."
"And where is that?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Jokingly, she might have made a comment that this was the most she'd ever heard him talk to her since before he'd left, but she doubted that would make the subject better.
Then she had an idea.
"Come with me."
He blinked, taken off guard. "Nani?"
"Come with me," she repeated her phrase, this time with a pleading tone. "I'm not allowed to go out of the Aoiya without an escort – be my escort." Her eyes were dead set.
Aoshi walked into Aoiya, almost silently scoffing at her. "Enough of this nonsense."
"Aoishi-sama, onegai de gozaru!" she whispered furiously, her eyes focused on his face as she rushed forward, as swiftly as her feet would allow her to, and still remain silent. Her hand found his yukata and she gripped at him desperately. "For me?"
He sighed, looking at her for a moment as though he would refuse, before nodding. "Yoroshi."
Her hand slipped towards her and he allowed her to clasp it firmly, despite its small size.
She led him out the door, closing it quietly behind her before she took him to the side of the Aoiya. He glanced suspiciously at her, wondering if she was indeed taking him outside the Aoiya walls, but instead, he found her pointing to a small, make-shift ladder that Kuro and Shiro had constructed when they'd needed to work on the Aoiya's roofing. She smiled and then pointed towards the roof before she let go of his hand to grasp both sides of the bamboo rods. She scurried up the ladder swiftly and silently, and as he followed a bit more hesitantly – for he was much bigger – he wondered how often she had done this before she had gotten caught.
When he reached the top, she once again took his hand, leading him towards the middle of the roof. It was incredibly dark, making it hard for him to see, but Misao seemed to know exactly where she was going.
Eventually, they reached a certain point on the roof – for Misao seemed to know exactly where she wanted to go – and she sat down, releasing his hand and patting the roof next to her. Aoshi eyed her wondrously, unknowing as to what she was asking him.
"Sit down," she whispered finally, repeating the patting motion.
With difficulty he sat, about a foot away from her, and just stared at her.
She seemed not to mind, or at least, he couldn't see if she had blushed in the dark as she turned away, closing her eyes and staring up at the black sky. He stared at her curiously before glancing towards the sky, quizzical of what she was looking at – or had previously been looking at.
They sat that way for at least five minutes.
"Misao," he started harshly, as a breeze cut through his thin yukata, and he wondered why she wasn't cold.
"Shhh," she ordered, holding a finger in front of her mouth, her eyes still closed. She stayed like that, frozen as stiff as a statue for a moment before her eyes opened, dark circles deep in her face before she pointed out towards the sky, whispering, "Look."
His head turned, annoyed.
A cloud floated away from the full moon, allowing a burst of silver light to splash the ground, the roof, and themselves. His breath hitched at the sight and he glanced at Misao, who sat, transfixed, staring at the moon with an expression of pure joy on her face. She looked gorgeous, he thought, sitting there, bathed in moonlight.
And then, she opened her mouth and let out a little whine.
At first, it started slow, and then it grew, growing loud until he recognized the tone and the pitch. It was the dog that had been howling for the past couple days, and he suddenly realized why he had thought that dog had gotten into the Aoiya. She closed her eyes, howling softly at the moon, before she turned to him and smiled. It was a soft, yet loud sound, filled with longing and a bitter cadence that caused a few dogs in the town to echo it back to her.
"Are you familiar with the old saying 'Crying for the Moon', Aoshi-sama?"
He gave her a puzzled expression and, almost blushingly, shook his head.
"In most religions, in the month of November like we're in now, they considered it a month of beginnings and endings." Misao gave him a guarded smile. "To cry for the Moon is an old saying that means you are craving or demanding something that you can't have."
Aoshi blinked, glancing away from her as she turned her head back to the moon and closed her eyes, opening her mouth in a howl once again – this time louder and more raucous; a sort of guttural cry that seemed to him incredibly strange when coming from her own mouth, and yet, incredibly feminine all in the same. When she stopped, he was almost nervous when he turned to look at her.
Misao chuckled, and peeked at him, a momentary look before her eyes returned to the moon before she spoke again. "I haven't been going out into town, or even into the garden, though I did visit the garden last night for a bit." Her bright, sea-blue eyes seemed to pierce him as she stared him down, and he felt almost as though she were peering past him, into something even she couldn't see. "I'm crying for the moon, Aoshi-sama," she whispered, stretching her right arm out towards him. "Like a stupid pack of wolves."
He glanced at her hand, extended before his face. She didn't struggle or lean forward, just lift and straighten the arm. The tips of her fingers came within a few centimeters of the tip of his nose – but she wasn't attempting to touch him.
"No matter what I do, you're always just a little out of reach."
His breath hitched, and instinctively, he leaned sideways a fraction, just enough for her fingers to touch him. His breath puffed out barely-visible smoky clouds onto her fingers, and she shivered at the contact.
She flinched when her fingers splayed against his cheek.
"I don't want to be out of reach," he whispered, staring at her desperately, almost wishing that she would be the Misao he knew, the Misao he could predict. Who would take his statement as a declaration of love – was it? – and would leap forward and seize him about his middle and make him uncomfortable.
But she didn't. A small smile flickered over her pale face, and almost at once, they were thrown back into darkness as a cloud passed over the moon. Her fingers gentle moved closer in the darkness, and he could practically feel her inching along the roof towards him. Normally he would have backed away from the touch, shying away from the contact her warm hands provided to his wind-cold cheeks. Aoshi was frozen to his spot, his eyes never leaving hers.
Tentatively her thumb rubbed his cheekbone, and in the dim light, he could have sworn a bright smile crossed her face.
She palmed the side of his face, and he leaned into it softly, savoring the warmth of her hand. "I'm glad."
And then Misao's hand was gone as she braced herself on the roof as she stood up, still smiling that bright smile. She reached out her hand toward him, waiting for him to take it. When she did, her thumb moved over his knuckles slowly as she led him back across the roof and into the house.
She bid him goodnight at her door, finally letting go of his hand, and he left at a loss as her warmth was suddenly gone from him. But Misao flashed a smile before her shoji door shut, and for a moment, Aoshi smiled, before walking into his room and lying down.
His heart felt lighter than when he'd cornered her some thirty minutes ago.
finis
Written for a combination of 25 Prompts my friend provided for me when I said I had nothing to write about.
Finished - July 2, 2007
Ja-ne, Hiko Mokushi