Disclaimer: Ruroni Kenshin is copyright their respective owners and companies. This is a work of fanfiction, done unofficially and without profit.
Yes, I had to soften Aoshi up a bit in this fic. I don't think he was ALWAYS hard-hearted...
Spoiler warning for an early part of the series. This is set before Aoshi and the Oniwabanshuu leave the Aoiya. If you didn't read or see his debut in the series, you may not understand the ending.
Please send feedback to tarotwatery@yahoo.com. Thank you.
Last revised:
May 3, 2004 for grammatical errors.
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Ties
A Ruroni Kenshin Fanfic
by Mia M.
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Aoshi did not sleep well. He lay awake the entire
evening, watching night shift as time passed or closing his eyes to delude his
body of slumber. This went on until morning, when the sun rose and the sky
turned from navy to pink, then to a bright blue. He kept his eyes shut as he
listened for the start of his morning, with the sounds of careful footsteps
walking towards his door.
She would stop there and slowly slide the door open. She slid it shut behind
her as she entered, her steps still careful and deliberate. Aoshi heard her
take a seat by his futon, and set aside the box she brought with her. He felt a
familiar tug on his sleeve accompanied by her urgent "Aoshi-sama.
Aoshi-sama."
He opened his eyes and turned to look at her.
"It's time." Seven year old Misao told him. She let go of his sleeve.
Aoshi sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Hurry up." Misao ordered.
Aoshi stifled a laugh. Misao was the only one who got away with ordering the
Oniwabanshuu around, including him. They all indulged her - perhaps too much,
to make up for their own tragic or lost childhood. Misao was the only child in
the Aoiya, and a part of them yearned to keep her that way and at that age,
even with her impudence.
He sat up and slid off his futon. Misao turned her back to him as he opened the
box she brought. The box contained her hair accessories: a comb, several
hairpins, ties and a pair of scissors. Aoshi picked up the comb. "You
didn't even brush before you came here." He remarked.
"It is your job." Misao reminded him.
"Yes, it is." Aoshi affirmed. This was his fault.
Misao was fond of her long, waist-length hair. No one else minded until she
found a way of amusing herself with it. At the dead of night, She would cover
her face with her hair and shuffled around Aoiya in her white yukata, taking
glee at scaring the other residents - including the elders. The elders, who had
witnessed and survived every challenge and invasion to their clan over the last
50 years were scared to death at the sight of her. They ordered to have her
hair cut so she may cease the nighttime scares. Misao wouldn't hear of this,
and had run away screaming from the maid assigned to this chore. In her
desperation, she ran right into Aoshi leg. She bumped into it and fell back on
her rump. The maid collapsed into a bow before Aoshi, her breath heaving in
exertion.
Misao scowled up at Aoshi as she looked at him with accusing eyes. Aoshi stared
back at Misao, waiting for her bow. When she refused, his gaze hardened. Misao
bowed wearily. Aoshi was satisfied.
"Risako-san, I'll take it from here." He told the maid. The maid
stood up, looking very relieved as she left. Misao made a move to go when Aoshi
stopped her. "We have to talk." He said. "Follow me."
Misao followed him to the study. His desk was situated on the low table upon
the floor, where he took his seat behind it. Misao remained the doorway, still
wary of him and wondering if he was in on the ploy.
Aoshi studied her for a moment before speaking again. "It is very
unruly."
"I don't care." Misao replied. "I like it."
"Why?" Aoshi asked.
"Just because." Misao answered, her voice stubborn.
'Just because', that was enough for a girl her age. Aoshi was aware that the
only way they'd be able to trim her hair was by trapping and bounding her like
they did to their enemies. That was too extreme. But how else can one reason
with 'Just because'?
Aoshi studied the length of her hair one more time. Besides, he mused, it would
be a waste.
"What if you just tie your hair back?" He suggested. "It just
looks messy, that's why we tried to cut it."
"I like it this way." Misao said.
"But a lot of people don't." Aoshi pointed out.
"So what?"
So what. Aoshi searched for a way to go about that.
"It will get in the way of your training." He warned.
"It hasn't so far." Misao said, beaming.
"Soon it will. Haven't you noticed that the other girls keep their hair
tied when they fight? It's to keep it out of the way."
"Why?" Misao asked.
Aoshi thought fast. "Because... your hair is your soul." He blurted
out.
"My soul?"
"Yes. If you cut it off, many bad things can be done to you. Can you
imagine if you fight and your hair gets cut? You'd be as good as beaten! You'll
still be here in body, but your mind and soul will be controlled by your
opponent!"
Misao was horrified. "I don't want anyone to control me!" She cried.
"So you better tie your hair." Aoshi warned her.
"I can't tie my own hair! If I ask for anyone else's help, they'll get me!
I know Risako-san doesn't like me for running away and making a mess! Aoshi,
she might try to kill me!"
"No she won't." Aoshi reassured her.
"What if you tie my hair?" Misao suggested.
Aoshi was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"You'll tie my hair. Every morning." Her eyes brightened. "I can
trust you with that, right Aoshi-sama? You'll take care of my soul?"
"Uh--"
"Will you, Aoshi-sama? Please? Please?"
Aoshi could not get out of this one.
"Please?" Misao pleaded. "Please?"
At least, she was willing. That would get the elders off both their backs. And,
she stopped screaming.
"Alright." Aoshi agreed.
Since then, he groomed and tied her hair every morning. It only took a few
minutes to comb through her hair, and just a few seconds to tie it back. Yet
Misao worried that stray strands of hair may fall into the wrong hands. She
insisted on having her hair plaited. What once took mere minutes to do turned
into a whole hour, as Aoshi parted and plaited her hair from the nape of her
neck down to her waist. To his amazement and relief, Misao managed to keep
still and quiet.
He grew to like the chore, fond of the feel of silken strands against his hands
and how it all came together in the final plait. He liked the satisfied look on
Misao's face as she studied his handwork. He liked watching it move with her as
she shook her head to test it, with the long braid trailing after her. He found
comfort in the hour between them, which was rare in the busy days as okashira.
That day was the last day he would braid her hair. For that occasion, Aoshi
took extra care in plaiting it. He took a little more time to undo all the
knots and put every strand in place to make that perfect plait. Misao sensed
Aoshi's caution, but was not aware that this the last time he'd do this for
her.
"Is something wrong, Aoshi-sama?" She asked.
Aoshi continued braiding her hair. He did not answer immediately.
"After today," He finally told her. "Risako-san will have to do
this for you."
Misao was surprised. "Why?" She asked.
"Because, Misao-chan, I have to go."
"On a trip?" Misao asked. "Then that's okay, you'll be back
soon, right?"
"I don't know when I'll be back."
"You're going away forever?" Her voice rose in disbelief.
Aoshi tied the end of her braid. She turned to face him. "You're a big
girl." Aoshi told her. "You will learn to do this by yourself if you
need to."
"But you promised!" Misao yelled.
"I never promised." Aoshi said in a mild tone.
"You did!" Misao insisted, her eyes wet with tears. "You told me
you would do this for me!"
"Well now, someone else has to." Aoshi said. It was lame thing to
say, but Aoshi did not know how else to comfort her.
He expected her tantrum, but not what she did next. In one swift movement,
Misao reached into the box for the scissors, and sliced off the braid. It fell
to the floor like a dead snake.
"If you won't do it, no one else will." Misao whispered. She stood up
and ran out of the room.
Aoshi picked up the braid, coiled it in his hands and slipped it into his
pocket. He stood up and walked to Misao's room. He stood outside her door a
long time. He took a step towards it. "Misao?" He called.
"I'm okay now." Her voice was still quiet. The door slid open and
Misao stepped outside. She refused to look at him as she stood in the doorway.
Aoshi felt a pang in his heart at the sight of her hair - now chin-length and
jagged from where she cut it. "It will grow back." Misao told him. "When
it does," She forced a smile. "You better be there to tie it."
She looked at him as she said that, and Aoshi was startled by her expression.
It was a mix of many things - an understanding, sadness, surrender,
fondness--even love? It was a look never worn by a seven year old, least of
all, Misao.
Aoshi never forgot that day. He kept the braid in his pocket to remind him - of
home, of her, and how she grew up in that one moment. He anticipated returning,
seeing her fully grown and welcoming him at the doors of the Aoiya.
Yet after he saw his comrades die, Aoshi threw the braid into a fire.
