Twelve interminable days after Aoshi left, Kenshin arrives on the Aoi-ya's doorstep.
Misao throws open the door and tackles him, pinning him to the ground in a hug. "Himura! You made it!"
"Misao-dono," he says, not trying to hug her back – she has his arms pinned to his sides, after all. "It is good to see you, despite the circumstances. Perhaps you might let this one go, and we can repair to the dining hall…?"
Getting back to her feet, Misao pouts at him. "You're being too serious, Himura. Things are bad, but you can talk to Aoshi-sama. Come on. It makes me sad when you don't act silly and say 'oro' all the time."
Kenshin dusts himself off before they step inside. "Your optimism is appreciated, Misao-dono, but Aoshi has made his decision. This one came because Okina-dono requested it, not because he believes he can persuade Aoshi to do other than he has done."
"We'll see," Misao says, closing the door behind them. "I have to believe you're going to do some good here, Himura. Otherwise I don't know what I'd do."
He gives her a solemn look before they proceed to the dining hall. The rest of the Oniwabanshū are there already, having just sat down to lunch. Misao tries not to grimace at the smell of food. She hasn't been able to eat properly since Aoshi left. The worry and fear have been gnawing at her.
"Himura-kun," Okina says, rising from his seat to greet Kenshin. "Thank you for coming."
"A great debt is owed you for your help with Shishio," Kenshin replies. "That is why this one came, Okina-dono. Not because Aoshi's mind might be changed."
Okina frowns at him even as he gestures for Kenshin to sit and eat. "Himura-kun, I specifically asked for your help in my letter. I didn't ask for you to come all the way across Japan because honor demands it."
Kenshin gives him an embarrassed smile. "This one will speak to Aoshi, certainly. But you all know him. Once he has made a decision, he does not reconsider it."
"He respects you as an equal," Okina says. "We are his family, and his subordinates. But you are not bound by his orders, and you brought him back to us when he had lost his way. Your words might have a better effect than ours."
"He's refused to see any of us," Okon adds sadly. "At least you he might be willing to talk to. Open up."
Misao has to smile at the absurdity of Aoshi 'opening up.' She makes herself look solemn again before anyone notices.
"This one will go see him, of course," Kenshin says. "But it is said now that this one does not expect to succeed. That is all." He gratefully accepts a bowl of rice and fish from Omasu. "This one would merely speak to Ryūnosuke Kazuya, but the name 'Hitokiri Battousai' does not carry the weight it once did."
"And we would never ask you to use your former position to help us," Okina tells him, severe. "I asked you here only as Himura Kenshin. Not Battousai."
"It is appreciated."
They eat, and then Misao goes with Kenshin to see Aoshi.
As she expected, the policeman comes back from Aoshi's cell with the news that he will see Kenshin. Every other time she's come, she's been turned away. The progress pleases her.
They stand outside Aoshi's cell. He looks no different than when Misao saw him last, which is heartening. He is sitting cross-legged in the center of the floor, meditating. When the two of them come to a halt, he opens his eyes. "Himura-san."
"Aoshi-san," Kenshin acknowledges. "This one heard of your difficulties and has come to express his sympathies."
"They are appreciated," Aoshi tells him. "But I know Okina asked you to come and dissuade me. I am resolved, Himura-san. Please do me the respect of leaving it at that."
Himura bows, deeply, at the waist. "I could not do otherwise," he says.
Misao explodes, bashing Kenshin across the back of the head before he can straighten up. "THAT'S you trying to persuade him?!" she screeches. "You worthless good-for-nothing rurouni bumpkin! I should kill you!"
"Misao," Aoshi cuts her off. "One day you will understand. Do not hold it against Himura-san."
"Like hell I'll 'understand!'" Misao exclaims. She presses herself against the wooden bars of his cell, not caring that she's rapidly losing all composure. "You're going away again, Aoshi-sama! Why? Why do you have to be so damn proud and stubborn and everything? Just for once in your life will you take the easy way out so you don't have to leave me again?"
He closes his eyes. "I cannot do that, Misao. Not even for you."
She turns away from the cell, resolving not to let him see her cry. Not again. "Fine," she says. "Be a hero or whatever, you big jerk. See if I care." She storms out, not looking back until she's out of the police station and several blocks away, and even then it's only because Himura catches her arm.
"Misao-dono," he says, and she can see the pain in his eyes. "Please. Please understand."
"Understand what?" she shrieks at him, not caring that everyone for a block around is staring at her. "That you're on his side of this because of your warrior pride or respect or some dumb thing like that? I thought you were my friend, Himura! I thought you cared about me!" She wrenches her arm free of his grip, turns her back on him. "I thought he cared," she whispers.
"He does," Kenshin insists. "It is because he cares that he has done this, Misao-dono. This one can tell."
"How does that even work?" Misao cries, rounding on him again. "He cares, so he's leaving me alone again? That's not what a caring person should do, Himura!"
"This one –"
"And I am so tired of your 'this ones' and 'debts' and 'honor!' Speak like a normal person!"
Something in her quails when she sees the nerve she's struck. His eyes go cold, his mouth hardens into a thin line. Himura Kenshin has overcome Battousai, she knows. But what she's forgotten is that Battousai is always there, and for a split second she finds herself looking him square in the eye. It feels like being submerged in icewater.
"Do not speak to me that way," Battousai hisses at her.
Her knees go out from under her and she lies there in the street, shivering, all of it overwhelming her. Aoshi, Kazuya, Himura, Battousai, everything and everyone swirls around in her head until she can't make sense of anything anymore.
Misao is dimly aware of Kenshin apologizing to her, over and over, babbling the words desperately as he tries to rouse her, but it is all too much. The sound of Kenshin calling her name is the last thing she is aware of.
Misao spends three days in bed, alternately being force-fed and chided by Omasu for literally worrying herself sick. Malnutrition and heatstroke, the doctor said, combined with stress.
And then it is time for Aoshi's hearing.
She threatens and blusters her way out of bed, dresses herself. She will not miss this. She will be there, even if it kills her. She has to be.
Okina and Himura look up at her as she walks out into the meditation garden, dressed in her street clothes. "Well?" she asks. "We going or what?"
"I'm not," Okina says.
"What? What's the matter with you, old man?"
"It's quite simple," Okina replies. "Aoshi has made his decision. My presence there will not alter it. And I have an inn to look after. We do have bills to pay, after all. Like medical bills, for stupid children who go without food for two weeks and then collapse in the street."
Misao gives him her most venomous glare. "Fine. Himura, you'll come with me, right?"
"Of course, Misao-dono." Kenshin rises to his feet. "Please, lead the way. Kyoto is not as familiar to this one as once it was." She sees a momentary flicker of embarrassment in his expression as he says 'this one,' but she lets it pass without comment. She feels bad enough about what happened already.
As they walk to the courthouse, Kenshin says to her, "You must not blame Okina-dono."
"Oh? Why shouldn't I? He's being a jerk."
Kenshin gives her a fragile smile. "Okina-dono is a man of much history, Misao-dono. He has lost comrades, seen friends go to their deaths, just or not, honorable or not. When one has seen much death and much loss, one cuts oneself off. One protects oneself." He looks up at the sky, his eyes distant. "It is in his nature, Misao-dono. Just as it is Aoshi's nature to do what he does today."
Misao frowns at him. "I guess. I'm not gonna forgive him that easy, though. He's gonna have some serious apologizing to do later."
The courthouse is an ugly, recently-constructed building, with clear Western influences. Misao feels a sense of dread fill her as she steps into the hall. The floor is marble, not wood or matted. Light comes from high windows. Wooden benches line the hall, filled with citizens of Kyoto. At the front of the hall is an elevated seat, where a severe-looking man in judge's robes sits. To his right, in a less-elevated seat, is Kazuya. His smile is as fixed and sincere as it was when Misao first saw him.
And in front of the judge's seat is the witness stand.
Aoshi stands at it, his hands secured in front of him with wooden stocks. A pair of policemen armed with sabers flank him.
Kenshin and Misao find seats in the back; there are none in the front.
The judge goes on for some time about the necessity of law, and the sovereignty of this most august court, and so forth. Misao rolls her eyes and focuses on glaring at Kazuya. If he notices her, he doesn't show it. The sunlight coming through the windows is reflecting off of his glasses again, hiding his eyes.
After a time, the judge speaks to Aoshi directly. "Shinomori Aoshi," he says, "you stand accused of war crimes while in the service of the former government of this country, as well as numerous crimes committed while in the employ of the late Takeda Kanryū. How do you plead?"
"Guilty," Aoshi replies, emotionlessly and without hesitation.
"As a matter of public record," Kazuya says, perfectly smooth, "you have been made aware of the specifics of the charges brought against you. Would you please enumerate them for the court?"
Misao watches Aoshi look at Kazuya for a long moment, and she allows herself to hope that he'll go back on his word, abandon this foolish, principled stand.
Then he speaks.
"While in the service of the Shogunate, I executed many missions in my capacity as an onmitsu. I assassinated thirteen important revolutionary figures and performed acts of espionage which led to the deaths of many more. On three occasions I obtained information through torture or using family members as leverage. As the head of the Edo Castle Oniwabanshū, I executed thirty-three men who tried to breach the castle grounds. And while serving as the head of Takeda Kanryū's private army, I personally killed eighteen men and directed my Oniwabanshū onmitsu to kill a further twenty-six, as well as assist with Kanryū's opium trade in a variety of ways."
Aoshi looks up at the judge, his expression unreadable from Misao's seat in the courtroom. "Is that satisfactory?"
There is a dead, almost suffocating silence in the courtroom. The judge sits there for a long moment, clearly taken aback.
Then he says, "Shinomori Aoshi, these are appalling crimes. And it is appalling that it has taken this long to bring you to justice.
"However, given your cooperation with these proceedings and your free admission of guilt, as well as your forthright conduct in more recent times, I am inclined to show leniency. I sentence you to no less than forty years' solitary confinement, without possibility of parole. You will have no visitation rights and no access to the outside world."
He picks up a small, wooden hammer – an ugly, Western thing – and raps it against a small block. The sound is unbearably final.
The policemen lead Aoshi away. The crowd files out, murmuring. Kazuya gives Misao one last look before he leaves as well.
She doesn't register any of it. She just sits there, thinking the same thing over and over. Forty years. Forty years. I'm not going to see him again for forty years.
Forty years.
"Misao-dono."
The sound of her name breaks her reverie. Misao realizes, belatedly, that she and Kenshin are utterly alone in the courthouse. She feels numb, and sick.
Kenshin lays his hand over hers. "Misao-dono… This one is sorry."
She looks at him, too hollow even to cry. "I can't even think about it. Forty years." The enormity of it defies comprehension. "Himura, I'm going to be almost sixty before I can see him again."
Kenshin's face clouds. He gets up, moves to the witness stand. Lays a hand on it, almost contemplatively.
"Do you love him?" he asks. His voice is different. Cold.
"Yes," Misao says. "I always have. I always will."
"That is why he's doing this," Kenshin tells her. "Because he knows, and it terrifies him."
"What?" Misao makes herself focus on this. On Kenshin's words. She can deal with this. She can't deal with what's just happened. "Aoshi-sama, terrified? No way."
He turns around to look at her, and she can see that it's not just Kenshin. Not anymore. Battousai is there, too, behind his eyes. Kenshin's still in control, but he's not entirely himself. She shivers. "Himura, are you okay?"
"I know him," Kenshin says, each word sounding like it's tearing its way out of him. "I know Shinomori Aoshi. He loves you, Misao. And he knows what it would mean for the two of you to love each other."
Misao has no words. This is the most terrible day of her life, and yet this is still the most terrifying thing she has ever seen. Kenshin, himself and yet not himself. Freely letting Battousai speak.
"You heard what he's done," Battousai says. "You know what he is. And to save him, you would become like him. You would stain your hands with blood, Misao. Blood never comes off. You smell it, always. You can wash until your flesh is red and raw and it will still be with you." He blinks, slowly, like a feral cat. "He can make his excuses about his honor, and his duty, but in the end, that is why he has let this happen. Because he does not want to see you become like him. Like us."
He leans heavily on the witness stand, his eyes fluttering, and suddenly he is just Kenshin again. He seems small, frail. Before she knows what's happening, Misao is out of her seat and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Himura, are you okay?"
"Yes," he says with a shaky smile. "Sorry to have frightened you, Misao-dono. But… there are things this one cannot say. There are things only he can say."
"But they're true," Misao says. "If it came down to killing Kazuya to save Aoshi-sama? Or killing anyone to save him? I'd do it. I know I'd do it."
"And that is what he fears most," Kenshin tells her. "He does not want your innocence to die. It is more precious to him than his own life. That is what this one meant when he said Aoshi does this because he cares."
"So what do I do?" Misao asks.
Kenshin shakes his head. "Only you can decide that, Misao-dono. It is not this one's place to tell you."
She throws up her hands and begins to pace a tight circuit around the witness stand. "Well that's real noble of you to say, Himura, but I am sick to death of people doing what's right because it's noble or it's their duty or whatever. Don't be Himura Kenshin the rurouni, for once. Be Himura Kenshin, my friend. Who wants to see me happy."
"It sounds," Kenshin says, "like Misao-dono has already decided what she wants this one to say."
"So say it," Misao tells him. "Whatever it is, just say it!"
Kenshin stops leaning on the witness stand and straightens up, visibly regaining his composure. "If Misao-dono insists," he says, "then this one will merely point out that you, too, are Okashira of the Oniwabanshū. You declared yourself such in Aoshi's absence. Which means you are not Aoshi's subordinate. You are his equal, and not bound to follow his orders. It may have only been a temporary title, but Aoshi is, once more, absent."
He turns and heads for the exit. "Think hard on what you want, Misao-dono, and what Aoshi wants," he says. "And then make your own choice."
Kenshin leaves Misao in the empty courtroom. And for the first time since Kazuya showed up at her door, she knows what to do.
