*Disclaimer* I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. My imagination is not that good. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 3

This really is too much, Aoshi thought to himself.

The morning after Misao angrily ran from him, she had run off to Tokyo without anyone's approval. Okina, of course, was furious, but he could do nothing. Aoshi himself had planned to set out after her.

Then he sprained his ankle.

After sliding the door open to leave his room in the morning, he slipped on the floor outside his room. This should have been impossible for someone as trained as he was in the martial arts, but literally everywhere around his door was completely slicked. He corrected himself, slipped again, and then his foot crashed through one of the floorboards, getting stuck between two rocks.

After looking at the floors, it was obvious that someone (obviously Misao) slicked all the floors with grease and cut a thin line in the floorboards, causing them to break. He hadn't ever seen her be quite this mischievous.

Of course, he had managed far worse pain in the past, while still fighting, but he wasn't as young as he used to be. He also wasn't walking hundreds of miles then. Of course, he could have just taken the train, but it was broken down and would be out of commission for two weeks.

It was as though the gods were on Misao's side, laughing at him. I'm on her side, too, he thought. She just doesn't realize it.

He got himself ready to go, then hobbled out of the door. The old man was walking toward him.

"Aoshi, I can always send one of the others in your place," suggested Okina.

Aoshi's eyes snapped up immediately. "No," he said, firmly and resolutely. "Misao needs my help, even if she doesn't realize it."

"What she really needs is your love."

Aoshi looked at him carefully. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean. Misao has spent her entire life starved for love. Her parents died when she was just a baby, and she was given to an old man, better suited to chasing skirts and playing chess than taking care of an orphan. You and the others were her one shining light. And you're the only one left for her, Aoshi."

"You're here, too."

"But for how long? I am old. I've now raised two generations of children. My time will come, and it isn't all that far off. Someone must watch out for her. Not just for her body, but for her soul." He gave Aoshi a meaningful glance. "Don't worry, I don't expect you to respond to that. However, let it sit in your mind. You'll be having plenty of time to think while you limp to Tokyo."

Aoshi immediately became angry, but he let it go. The old man had forgiven his attempt on his life. The least he could do is allow him to speak at his expense once in a while.

Her soul? he thought. He always believed that Misao's soul was perfectly fine without him. Now he wasn't so sure. She had been looking more down, lately, and talking less. She even missed taking him home from the temple, yesterday, which had never occurred before (well, except for that time that she accidentally drank a glass of sake instead of a glass of water). Until she got that letter yesterday, he had been positive that she was not quite herself. He was trying to think of a way to make her see that he cared about her well-being, but he couldn't figure out how. Just talk to her, a voice in his mind said.

Oh, of course, how simple, he thought bitterly. Talk to her about what? What do you say to a woman whose beloved caretaker you cut down right in front of her? A woman to whom you said those fatefully horrible words,

"I never want to see your face again."

If she had met him under almost any other circumstance after all that time, the wall between them would be thin indeed. In fact, if he had seen how lovely and full of life she had become before he came back to Kyoto, he might have changed his course of actions. Well, maybe, anyway.

He grabbed a stick, his bag, and his coat, and began to set out on his journey.

"I can't believe how perfect he is, Kaoru," said Misao.

She was looking at the day-old boy Kaoru was holding to her chest. He had a beautiful round face, perfect little brown eyes, and adorable dimples all over. He looked like a sleeping angel. A small twinge of jealousy passed through her, but her happiness for her friends outweighed it.

"I know, I know," gushed the tired but happy Kaoru. "I'm so glad Kenshin is able to have a son."

"And you have him too," reminded Megumi, whom Misao was helping to wash several blankets. "Don't forget that he belongs to you, as well. In fact, he may be more yours, since you were the one to bake him!" She laughed.

"You really did know he was a boy, didn't you?" said Misao. "How?"

"Mother's intuition, I guess, Misao," she smiled. Then her face took on an altogether different expression. "Are Kenshin and Sano back from getting blind drunk yet?"

"No... and I think they took Yahiko with them, too," Misao said disapprovingly. "I hope they don't give him any sake!"

"What? How could they?! He's just a child!"

"He's thirteen, Kaoru. He'll be grown soon."

"My, how time flies," Kaoru said, looking pensive. "It seemed that just yesterday I was yelling at Yahiko for doing a terrible job cleaning the dojo floors!"

Speaking about floors immediately made Misao turn red in embarassment. She knew that her little stunt on the floor outside Aoshi's bedroom would not be appreciated by anyone at the Aoiya. Jiya had already sent her a very heated letter, detailing that when she came back, she was going to clean the whole Aoiya top to bottom, even if it took her the rest of her life.

What other choice did I have? She thought. Aoshi could easily have overtaken her and literally dragged her kicking and screaming back to Kyoto in less than a day. She was sure no one could escape that room without injury, even Aoshi. She just hoped she didn't hurt him too badly.

She started in on doing another load of wash when she heard loud voices coming down the street. One of them was definitely that of Sanosuke.

Here we go, she thought. She went to the gate and opened it for them. All three of them were shamefully drunk - even Yahiko! Kenshin was basically passed out, hanging on Sano, and Yahiko had a glazed look in his eyes.

"Well hey there weasel, howya doin'?" said Sanosuke. "I don't recognize you without Tall, Dark, and Menacing hanging over you!"

"Yeah, whatever, Sano," she said. Normally this would have irritated her, but she knew there was no point getting angry at drunk men. You may as well get angry at a howling wind.

Megumi came out at this moment, shaking her head at them. "Excessive alcohol consumption isn't good for your liver," she said. Turning to address Misao, she said, "Misao-chan, I have run out of a special ointment that I need to put on the baby's skin. Is there any way you could run to get it for me?"

"Of course!" she said, thankful to have a way out of dealing with the three intoxicated men. Yahiko looked suspiciously vomitous.

Grabbing the note from Megumi, Misao skipped out of the dojo, heading for town. Tokyo was such a lively city - she loved it. She was taking in the sights, smelling the smells, and enjoying the freedom. I never am able to do this at home, she thought. I'm always chasing after Aoshi or doing work at the Aoiya at home. She tried to tell herself that she didn't miss Aoshi at all, but it wasn't true. He filled a sort of void in her life, though she couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

She was completely shocked when she turned the corner to the drugstore. A large band of police was asking questions of all the bystanders, and among them was Fujita Goro, aka Hajime Saito. She recognized him immediately, averted her eyes, and hid behind a woman holding a parasol. He hadn't seen her - or had he? Yes, he was looking her direction!

He looked vaguely disinterested and continued what he was doing. All the police were asking if anyone had seen an old gentleman with a cart and a mule. Seeing as how that was a vague description of much of the townspeople, they weren't having much luck. Misao was able to slip past without being questioned. Her upbringing as an onmitsu made her wary of police.

She almost reached the pharmacy, and then her heart skipped a beat. Aoshi-sama was standing down the street! And he saw her!

She ducked immediately, running underneath the huge crowd of people. This was one time where her small size was an extreme benefit to her - she could run right in between people, apologizing profusely, while Aoshi, tall as he was, was essentially unable to move. She made it across a bridge, out of the crowd. She was at the very edge of the city, bordering on the forest. Without hesitating, she ran right into it.

There was a lot of underbrush, but she made it to a large persimmon tree. I'll hide here for a while, she thought. She knew that if she made it back to the dojo, he would be waiting for her, and would insist on taking her home with him. Not now, she thought. She needed a break from him for a while. Though she had to admit to herself that she was flattered that he cared enough to come after her at all. Maybe he doesn't think I'm annoying and useless after all, she thought. Maybe... just maybe... he loves me? She thought tentatively. She was afraid to get her hopes up for nothing.

After about half an hour, she decided to jump down from the tree and head back to the dojo. She couldn't hang out here all night; at some point she would have to face him.

An old man with a wagon drove his mule on the path near her. As he went by, one of the very heavy rice-wine jugs fell out of it. Swearing, he jumped down from the wagon. He tried to pick it up, but was having trouble.

Misao stepped out from behind her tree. "Do you need help?" She asked. No matter what anyone said to her about safety, there was no way she could watch an old man struggle like that.

"Oh, thank you so much, young miss!" He looked very, very relieved. With difficulty they lifted the jug back onto the cart. The old man turned to face her, and said, "Let me give you just a small taste and a rice cake to thank you!"

"Thank you very much, but no," said Misao, even though the sight the rice cakes set her stomach rumbling. She couldn't trust this man, even though the energy he sent out seemed harmless enough.

"Don't be shy! I won't hurt you - see, I'm just an old farmer! Please take them."

Misao's mouth watered. She definitely was tempted. "Well, I don't want to sound rude, but there are a lot of reasons not to trust strangers right now," she said, looking at him.

"You mean the Yakuza? Yes, I agree. But how could I be associated with a group like that?" He asked. And close up, Misao could see that he really was just a simple farmer - he even had dirt under his fingernails.

"Here," he said, pouring a quick shot of sake from a smaller jug. He put it and a cake in her hands. "Enjoy it!" He said. He set off, whistling.

After he was out of sight, she poured out the sake, and looked at the cake again. She had simply planned on throwing it into the woods to spare the old man's feelings, but her stomach growled violently. She realized that due to the fact that she and Megumi were so busy with the baby's arrival, all she had eaten that morning was a bowl of clear soup. She looked at the glutionous rice cake carefully, and it did indeed bear the symbol of a known eatery in town. What the heck, she thought. She took a bite. It was good. She decided to enjoy it slowly, and let the flavor coat her tongue.

About two minutes later, when she was walking back to her tree, she began to feel dizzy. She brushed the feeling off immediately, thinking it was her hunger. But a few moments later, she felt suddenly very nauseated. What was it that Jiya had said about poison?

She didn't have time to remember before she fell to the ground.