Chapter 2: Breaking Plates

Feeling smug at her escape over Jiya's complaints about her choice of traveling partners, Misao snuggled into the corner of the train's seat. She let the motion of the wheels lure her to sleep, feeling safe with Cho across from her. There were few people other than the Cold One and Kenshin who were as good with the sword as Cho. She didn't quite trust his change of heart, but she'd seen it happen to others who'd encountered Kenshin in battle, so it was likely the changes were real.

But she could protect herself. She had been trained by the best spy network in the country since she was a child, and could hold her own in any situation. Any situation except the one she was running away from, she thought. She couldn't compete for a man's heart if the man didn't know she existed. She wondered about his reaction to the news she'd left with another man when Jiya finally screwed up enough nerve to tell him, but she doubted if he'd do more than raise one eyebrow and ask for another serving of tea. She closed her eyes and nodded off.

Her prediction wasn't far from wrong. First, Aoshi threw the tea cup at the wall, and then he calmly asked for another cup of tea. He had words with the Okina about the wisdom of letting her go off unprotected. Jiya pointed out that Aoshi had no right to act so concerned and pointed out that it was his own behavior that made the girl run away in the first place.

Unsettled and frustrated, Aoshi paced, his cool demeanor slipping the longer he strode across the floor. How dare Jiya blame him for a foolish child's actions! What did Jiya mean when he said it was his fault the girl left? He'd been proper and standoffish with the child. He'd shown her no special preferential treatment at all. How could it possibly be his fault? His fists tightened until the muscles in his upper arm bulged and ached from the tightness.

An hour passed, then two, and still Aoshi paced, no closer to a decision than before he started. Should he go after her and bring her home? What if she refused? What if something happened to her? He should kill Cho for this stunt. He knew she wouldn't have gone if Cho hadn't suggested it. But if he showed up at the Battosai's, she'd think he was chasing her, that he wanted more than he really wanted. But what did he want? She was a child and he was man. He shied away from what he wanted, refusing to put words to the pictures in his mind. As each hour passed by, she was farther and farther away from his protective hand. He wanted her home, he finally decided. He wanted her home where he could keep her safe, until she matured enough- He shook away the thought germinating in the base of his skull, barely conscious.

Jiya looked up at the angry man in front of him, and kept the smile hidden from his eyes and face. "I'm bringing her back," Aoshi announced.

"Good," Jiya responded quietly. "The next train leaves in an hour." He handed Aoshi a packet. Without looking, Aoshi shoved it in a pocket and left the room silently. Jiya grinned. Maybe the girl's instincts were good after all, he thought. He sipped his tea and smiled at the tempest Shinomori would find himself in when he tried to make the young girl do anything she didn't chose to do willingly. He idly wondered if he'd given Aoshi enough money to cover all broken dishes that he guaranteed would ensue during the discussion between the Ice King and his Princess.

Aoshi threw his clothing in a pack carelessly, and picked up his matched pair of Kodachis. They were perfectly balanced for his hands and had been handcrafted to suit him and his style. He hadn't touched them in months, but the fit was flawless. He moved through the basic katas with them. Barely sweating, he stowed them away at the end of the brief workout. His faithful companions would accompany him once more. He couldn't leave them behind this time. He was sure he wouldn't have to use them, but if he needed them, he'd have them.

It was while waiting for the train to pull into the station that he recognized the emotion he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't a feeling he'd felt often, but the dark snake of fear began uncurling inside him. Not fear for himself, but fear of what was ahead for the child he'd been protecting since she was born. The only time he felt this way was when she was injured or hurt. He remembered the first time he felt it.

Misao was no more than four and he was fourteen, not the Okashira of the Oniwabanshu yet even. They'd been playing hide and seek in the woods, and he was It. Misao hid while he counted, and even though he peeked, by the time he finished, she was gone. He searched for her and searched for her, but he couldn't find her. He yelled for her, but she didn't answer. He found one of her tiny red sneakers under a bush, but the child had vanished. Even with Beshimi and Hannya's help, he couldn't find her. Sick, he told Okina and the entire Oniwabanshu searched the woods for the tiny child.

Near tears, he sat on a rock and hid his face in his hands. It was getting late and the sun was going down. The child had been missing for hours. He ran though the list of possibilities, trying to figure out what had happened to the child. A wolf, an intruder, a snake bit her, she drowned in the nearby lake, the list was endless and it was his fault she was missing. A sliver of gold gleamed in the setting sun, dancing on the water. His eyes followed its path to an overgrown bush. Not breathing, he ran to the bush and crawled under it. The child was sound asleep, the necklace around her neck reflected the sun's light in his eyes. He gathered the missing infant in his arms and signaled his success to the other searchers.

A drowsy little girl wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled him. "I thought you was neber gonna find me 'Oshi," she said sleepily. "I waited forever for you."

He waited his punishment from Okina later that night, but Okina never appeared to administer it. He calmly walked down to Okina's room and bowed respectfully, "I am ready for my punishment, sir," he announced, resolutely.

Okina looked up from the papers he was studying. The soft glow of the night lamp dulled the harshness of the plain room. Aoshi didn't flinch or search for a way out. He waited, still.

Okina studied the sturdy boy in front of him, seeking the man he would become in the boyish features. The lad was brilliant and a quick study of the sword. He learned new techniques and worked until they were flawless. The rest of the Oniwabanshu worshipped him already and he hadn't been given any real responsibility yet. It was rare to see the boy as rattled as he'd been today by the missing girl, and Okina wondered if the tiny infant would be the boy's saving grace or downfall later on in life. On the other hand, the show of emotion was a sign that the boy hadn't shut down all his emotions, and that he was still connecting with others. It was a good thing. Plus, it confirmed to Okina that the child was still a child, well on his way to manhood, but not quite there yet. He nodded at the boy still waiting before him.

"What did you learn today?" he asked gently.

The question took Aoshi by surprise. He shook his head speechless.

Okina nodded. "Come back when you can tell me what you learned, and then I can decide what the appropriate punishment is." Okina picked up his papers, dismissing the boy with his actions. Aoshi stepped forward to protest the directions, but restrained himself. He bowed and left the room.

It was a week before he returned to Okina's room, seven days of thought and mediation, isolating himself from the rest of the group until he had an answer he thought he could give his leader. It was seven long days of fasting, alone with his thoughts and emotions, before he was content with the answer he found.

He stood silent, waiting to be recognized by Okina. The old leader called for some soup and hot tea to be brought into the room, and motioned for the boy to eat, but Aoshi refused. Okina stood up. "Eat, then we'll talk," he said, exiting the room.

Aoshi stood there, stunned, the smell of the soup overwhelming him. The simple broth burned his mouth and filled his stomach, making it ache. Okina rejoined him when the soup was gone and gestured for the lad to sit down. Wanting to object, the child obeyed. Okina sat opposite him and searched his face seriously for a long time. The silence loomed between them until Aoshi was bursting with words, yet still Okina didn't speak. Finally, Okina nodded. "And what did you learn, during your soul searching?" he asked.

Aoshi opened his mouth, but the flood of words faded away. He had little to say to his leader. It was as if all his soul searching was for nothing. He closed his mouth, and Okina nodded, contented with his charge's behavior. The silence between them was less charged and finally Aoshi spoke. "If I am responsible for others, I must to do everything I can to protect them."

Okina nodded. "And when your good isn't good enough, what then, boy?"

Aoshi shrugged. "I will have to do what it takes to be good enough," he replied.

Okina shook his head. "You are still too young to understand but the time will come when your best isn't good enough and you will need a different answer then. But for now, your response is correct. What is ahead of you will be difficult enough without you doubting yourself. The little one has missed you this week. She thinks it is her fault you are being punished and not allowed to play with her. "

Aoshi looked confused. "But I'm not being punished," he started to explain but Okina shook it off.

"Tell it to the right person," he insisted. "I am not the right one to hear this explanation."

He found Misao waiting for him at the top of the dark stairs, nearly asleep. He picked her up and carried her to her room. Tucking her in, he tried to explain, but she fell asleep half way through his long winded explanation, content that he was home and everything was alright again.

Sitting upright on the train, oblivious to its rattle, he wondered if Misao thought his withdrawal from the Oniwabanshu was her fault this time too. He sighed. It seemed like they'd spent an entire lifetime thinking they were at fault for the other's mistakes. He needed this time to think of what he'd say this time that would make her come back home with him. He needed to find the words that would make her feel content and that everything was alright again.