Alright, here's a new concept. This one's been in my head for some time, and when I finished playing it out in my head I had tears in my eyes (Pretty pathetic, huh?). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little story. I have to warn you. It gets a little depressing. That's why I put it under tragedy. If you can understand good work, have a soft spot for disheartening stories, or just love Misao and Aoshi pairings, then this story is for you. Here we go.
My Broken Life
Summary: Misao is thrown out of the Oniwanbanshu by Aoshi after an argument over her maturity. Can Misao gain his love by proving herself?
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Rurouni Kenshin, although I wish I did. Guess we can't have everything we want. sigh
The Storyteller
Tokyo, Japan. 1888
In the 21st year of the Meiji, Japan has grown to be a modernized country. The nation has accepted help from western countries for the first time in a long time and has finally caught up with the flow of time. Many great tasks have been accomplished, and Japan is moving towards the top of the world's ranks. Even so, Japan has not abandoned its traditions. Shinto, kimonos, and swords remain part of everyday live in the country of the Rising Sun. Many dojos are flowing with students who wish to learn katsujin-ken, the sword that gives life. Good memories and customs have been kept close to the heart. However, good memories come with bad ones as well.
Along with the dojos and kimonos, the cries of the Tokugawa Bakufu linger in the air. No one has completely forgotten those days of war when blood flowed with the river. Many cannot return to society because of the horrible things they have done. A place in Tokyo has been set aside for those who cannot forget their dreadful past. Those who the new era has given up on, along with those who have given up on the era, often end up in this place of desolation. They live in "Hell on Earth", knowing hope will never find them. The final destination for those who have given up on life is known as "The Fallen Village".
Most of the people that live in this village are broken survivors of the Boshin War. Some are just broken souls who wonder in. They are not all gloomy. Take one Geezer for example. He wonders around the village in ragged clothes, broken glasses taped on the lenses, and a wicker hat that has no top. He does this all with a smile, content knowing he will probably die in this place of lost souls. He walks around sharing conversations with others in the village, and today he happened upon a young woman, no more than twenty-six, sitting underneath the only live tree in the whole village-a sakura tree.
The lady wore old flip-flop sandals along with a white, sleeping kimono that told the old man she had just gotten out of bed. Over her kimono she wore a brown coat, even though it was a nice day, the sun shining against the blue sky with not a cloud in sight. Her shoulder-length blue hair played across her pale face as a slight wind blew through the air. Two tired blue eyes peered through her uneven bangs as she watched the cherry blossoms fall to the ground with a sad smile.
"Is it wise for you to be out today?" Geezer asked as he sat next to her. "You just had another fit two days ago. You should be in bed, building up your strength." The maiden looked across the village, as if waiting for something to appear over the horizon. "Of course, I should have known. You have always been too stubborn to listen to anyone, young Miss." She laughed lightly as she tucked her hair behind her ears. She had been sick for a long time, and no one knew why. They feared she would collapse at any moment, but that didn't stop her from getting outside.
"That is true, Geezer. I could never take help from anyone unless I absolutely needed it. There was one person I did take advice from, but that was a long time ago." Geezer watched her closely as she studied the cherry blossoms. "I'm surprised you haven't kicked the bucket yet." That quick change of subject made the old man chuckle. He was almost ninety.
"You know how to make me feel special, don't you?" Geezer took a moment to collect his thoughts. "I have been here since the founding of the Fallen Village. That has been enough time to forget my own name. At first I came to forget my past, but the past can never forget you. Isn't that right, young Miss?" Again, Miss took the time to pull her hand through her locks. She had almost forgotten her own name, but it was in her mind somewhere, locked away with her deepest thoughts. She wished to be referred to as Miss, but that didn't mean she could forget her own past and memories.
"How many stories have I told you over the years, Geezer?" she asked out of the blue.
"I lost count after seventy. The great Hijikata of the Shinsengumi, Zanza the fighter for hire, the Lone Wolf that survived the Tokugawa Bakufu, the revolutionist Shishio, and the story of one Enishi who longed for Jinchu for his sister. Every story full of detail. My favorite is the one of Battousai the manslayer and how he managed to live his life in the Meiji. You are quite the storyteller. You must have a great memory to remember all the legends that you were told about. You never cease to surprise me." Miss looked at him, hoping she could surprise him once again.
"Have I ever told you the story of a young ninja?" Geezer looked at her again with interest.
"I do not believe so. I would sure like to hear it."
"It is very long. We could be here all day." Geezer reached out and gently squeezed her hand.
"You know how much I enjoy your stories. They give me comfort. Besides, I have all the time in the world to listen." The girl sighed as her smile disappeared.
"I don't know how much you would enjoy it. It is very sad. In fact, I don't tell it very often because it is so depressing."
"I will listen to anything you have to say. That is what I am here for." The woman searched his eyes and found interest in them. How could she refuse him happiness? She turned her head to watch the cherry blossoms fall again. Her sad smile returned as she began.
"This story is about a young ninja girl-only sixteen, mind you-who was in line for the title of leader. She worked under a very skilled and handsome man. He had become the leader when he was just sixteen. His features were that of a god, she always thought, but his face was always stoic. Some called him Iceman because he never showed emotion even when he was winning a battle. He was always loyal to his comrades in arms, and he protected them with his life as they did with him.
"The girl's mother and father, the former leader of the Oniwanbanshu, had died when she was young, so the members took it on as their duty to raise her. The leader often taught her how to fight, but he was also soft with her. He would always make her paper cranes to entertain her. This is why the girl grew close to him.
"But as she aged into a young lady, she began to grow feelings for this leader. She always wished to be by his side, and she thought he could never do wrong. She never once questioned his abilities, willing to follow him into the depths of hell. She hoped one day he would return her love. As you know, not all love stories go as smoothly as this. This is the story of Misao Makimachi, who fell in love with Aoshi Shinomori, hoping that he too would love her with all of his heart and being as she did.
Well, what do you think? This is just an intro, but it gets better. I promise. Like I said, it gets a little depressing, but I think you will enjoy it. Please review. Cya.