On The Way

Chapter Six

An Aoshi/Misao Fanfic

Disclaimer: All rights and ownership to Nobuo Watsuki and official companies. This is a work of fiction.

…

"Everyone," Misao whispered as she froze, her bag and the shovel falling to the ground. Intellectually, she knew. But seeing the unmarked stones brought the realization from her heart, rather than her brain.

Aoshi turned around. He had essentially lived in that circle of trees with the four graves while training from the time he ran from Takeda Kanryuu's mansion to when he set out for Kyoto in search for a fight with Battousai. He hadn't realized what impact it would have on Misao.

"Aoshi-sama," Misao managed to get out from her choked throat and tears. Her hand reached out for his as her legs shook.

He went back to her, putting his supplies aside and put his arm around her shoulders. Feeling her bury her face into his chest, Aoshi supported her as she cried silently.

After a few minutes, he felt Misao wrap her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Aoshi-sama," she sniffled.

"It's alright, Misao. You can cry." Aoshi patted her shaking shoulders.

"Not that," Misao pulled away slightly, but didn't let go. "I'm sorry you went through this alone."

Looking down, Aoshi was surprised to see how serious and grown up Misao looked. While they were in Tokyo, Aoshi had thought many times about how childish and impulsive Misao acted. But here, trapped in both grasp and gaze, he knew he only knew a fraction of who she was. Makimachi Misao was more than the cheerful exterior she displayed to the world.

"I'm sorry, too, Misao."

"You know, Aoshi-sama, you never have to apologize to me. Never." Misao squeezed him. "But, instead, I want you to, when you're comfortable with it, talk to me. I can't know everything you feel, but I want to try. When…If you want to share. Okay?"

She smiled then.

Aoshi looked at her and slowly, subtly nodded.

"Good. Shall I gather firewood?"

Aoshi nodded again.

When Misao let go and stepped out of his grasp, Aoshi became acutely aware of her absence. His body was cold where her arms had held him and the wet splotch from her tears felt like a bullet wound.

He could hear her as she searched the forest floor for wood and kindling. Somehow, she knew he hadn't burned their remains before burying them. A fire would clean their skulls and hide their transport as they returned home.

"I got some pine needles for the box, too," Misao announced as she came back.

Aoshi had already started digging when Misao started the fire.

"Argh, it's too hot!" Misao fanned herself, but was proud of the bonfire she built up. She had focused on her task because if she thought of what Aoshi was doing, she would cry again.

"Misao, go get more pine needles."

"But, I already got a lot," Misao looked at the lined box and the massive pile she would use to pack over, once the skulls were ready.

"Then look away."

From the other side of the fire, Misao saw Aoshi do something. She clenched her eyes shut and covered them with her hands. Echoing inside her head, she prayed. Using her ears, Misao followed Aoshi's actions until he finally stepped towards her and turned her away from the fire.

"Don't look," he said quietly.

"Are you alright, Aoshi-sama?"

He wasn't. But he didn't say.

"Did you know? I got to see Hannya one last time?" Misao rubbed her ribcage and shifted her feet. "When the Juppongatana attacked the Aoiya, that crossdressing freak got me in the ribs and I was down for a second. I saw Hannya. No, I'm not crazy. But he said Himura would bring you home. I was," Misao pulled in a shaky breath. "I was really happy to hear that."

"Sounds like something Hannya would do for you."

"Was I too selfish to want you back? To want you all back?" Misao asked quietly.

"No." Aoshi sat, his eyes focused on the inferno behind her. "You are not too selfish."

Misao went to sit beside him, but Aoshi pulled her down so her back was still to the fire.

"You don't have to protect me to this extent. I'll be alright," Misao informed him.

"I know."

But he still didn't let her turn around.

Misao trained, since there was nothing to do but wait for the fire to burn down.

"Hungry, Aoshi-sama?" Misao pulled out the food she packed from the Dojo. The sun was setting already, the day was gone. She held out the rice balls she wrapped. "I stole all of Kaoru-san's umeboshi."

Aoshi hesitated.

"But yours is salmon." Misao shoved the food in Aoshi's hands. "Kaoru-san only had three left, it wouldn't be of any use for that household, so I put them in mine."

Misao munched away and hissed at the sourness of the pickled plum center.

"You remembered?"

"Beshimi used to give you umeboshi, but you always offered it to me," Misao recalled. "But you would give me the rice around it too. I figured that you didn't just offer because I liked it. You must not have liked it at all."

The rice touching the pickled fruit wasn't just dyed pink, the sour flavor was also transferred.

"I think it's nice to know Aoshi-sama's preferences. Though I know you don't like umeboshi, I don't know if you particularly like the salmon filling. I hope it's okay." Misao thumbed a stray piece of rice into her mouth.

"Itadakimasu."

Misao smiled as Aoshi ate the food without complaint or comment.

Both the sun and the bonfire dwindled and Aoshi shifted through the hot ash to retrieve and clean the bones. Misao wiped the black soot and looked into the eternal eyes of a man she considered to be a father figure.

"Hannya," she whispered, her thumb brushing over the unmistakable shape of his jaw and cheekbone. His skull looked more like his mask than the face she knew beneath it. Others, even within the Oniwabanshuu, were terrified of Hannya's unmasked face. But Misao loved him even more for it. Resting her forehead against the skull, Misao whispered, "Thank you for saving Aoshi-sama."

She wrapped him in a cloth before nestling him into the pine filled box. Repeating the process and thanks to each member, Misao packed the fragrant pine needles around them, filling the box tightly so the bones wouldn't move before nailing the lid shut.

"Misao."

"Yes, Aoshi-sama?"

They were relocated at the base of the mountain, having decided to start their journey home early in the morning by returning the shovel to the farmer at dawn. Their makeshift camp was a large tree with cave-like roots to shelter them from wandering threats.

"Are you angry that they died protecting me?" Aoshi wasn't one to ask about other people's feelings, least they ask for his in return. But the question seemed too important between them to let it go unanswered.

Misao slowly opened her eyes. She had been attempting to fall asleep.

"Let me invade your space," Misao said and she crawled into the cage of his body. She sat between his legs and leaned back into his chest. "Remember when you let me sleep like this? This is how I slept best. I knew everyone would protect me. I was the granddaughter of the previous Okashira. I was a girl; a child. They protected me because I couldn't protect myself. They protected you because they loved you. I don't know how it was at the end for them, but even from before, life was only something worth having with you."

Misao rested a hand on Aoshi's thigh, just to have contact.

"From what I heard from Yahiko and Kaoru-san," Misao patted his leg, "there was nothing more honorable than to protect the life that gave theirs meaning." Misao didn't notice her tears until they dropped from her chin. She brushed it aside. "I'm not angry. Neither are they. Had I been there—"

"No." Aoshi's arms wrapped around her, stopping her from continuing. "Don't."

His head bent and rested on her shoulder.

"Alright. Now you know. I'm not angry, Aoshi-sama." Misao reached up and patted the arms crossed over her torso. "I have been angry with you before. And I didn't like it, so you better not do anything to make me feel that way again."

"Alright," Aoshi agreed.

Now that the question was settled, Misao tapped his arms and tried to return to her own space.

"Just," Aoshi cemented his grip, "for tonight. Will you stay like this?"

Misao laughed lightly. Then leaned back to find the most comfortable spot. She wouldn't miss out on such a grand opportunity.

"Good night, Aoshi-sama."

Aoshi leaned against the tree and remembered when a much smaller Misao used to crawl into his arms to sleep. When he was just fifteen, younger than Misao, he was entrusted with two precious things. The Oniwabanshuu title of Okashira, and Misao's welfare. He had given up the honor of the Oniwabanshuu. And look how that ended. He really would be damned if he failed to protect the person entrusted to him.

"Good night, Misao."

The next day, Aoshi glared at the old farmer as Misao returned the shovel. He wasn't sure why he was annoyed at the thought of Misao speaking to the old farmer alone, but he was, so he watched the exchange.

"Sorry for making you wait, Aoshi-sama." Misao ran up to him on the road.

They set off for their long trip home. From their current location, getting to the Tokaidou would mean back tracking a severe distance. Instead, they meandered their way through the mountain passes to various other highways to lead them towards the western city.

The first of their bandit raids happened on their third night.

"Hand over the sword and your money and maybe we won't make you watch when we take your girl," the bandit leader told Aoshi as his crew surrounded them on the road.

Misao snickered. How adorable, the bandits wanted to steal their money and rape her. Such a quaint idea. And simple.

"Don't laugh at them."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Misao sang. "Can I borrow one?"

Aoshi and Misao dropped their luggage. The box with the remains of their fallen comrades was still strapped to Aoshi's back.

"What, giving up?" the leader stepped forward.

"No," Aoshi replied, swinging his sheath back.

As he gripped one blade, Misao took the other, surprising the bandits as they, like so many others, failed to realize the second kodachi. Easily dispatching their enemies with mostly kempo moves, Misao returned Aoshi's blade, completely blood free.

"Let's see, let's see," Misao picked through a few pockets, but found nothing worth taking. "I guess they're either not very good or they are really desperate and just starting out."

"Don't steal from them."

"I won't," Misao assured him as she impishly tied their sandal strings together.

"I'm going."

"Coming!" Misao grabbed her bag and ran to catch up with him.

The next time they fought it was against a drunk in a restaurant who refused to pay. He ended up handed over to the police. Then there were more bandits harassing a caravan.

"Man, bandits are a pain," Misao said as she dusted off her hands. She went and checked on the civilians while Aoshi tied up the ruffians. When Misao rejoined Aoshi, she said, "It might not be the war of our nation, but these people are still experiencing violence."

"This happened even before the war. We can say we live in peace. But that is an illusion for many."

"It's not as if we can, I can, go around fighting bandits for a living. But it's a little sad to know that in some places, these," Misao gestured to the pile of outlaws, "were and still are, the biggest threat to civilians."

"Misao was always big hearted."

Misao looked over to Aoshi in the night light in surprise. "You taught me that, Aoshi-sama."

As the prized granddaughter of the Okashira, Misao always got what she wanted. Food, presents, anything. She also took things that wasn't hers and yet everyone gave it away with a smile. Because she was the Okashira and the Oniwabanshuu's treasure.

Aoshi was the first one to tell her no. A guest had brought food as a gift and Misao was about to run off and eat the whole boxful by herself. It was Aoshi who snatched her up, told her no, and that sharing with others would make everyone happy. Her happiness at the expense of taking the chance of happiness from others wasn't right. To hear such words from her favorite person made her burst into tears. Everyone said it was okay for her to have it, but Aoshi was firm. He had Misao distribute the food to everyone else first. The last piece, she offered to him with a sniff, knowing that there was none left for her. Everyone was astonished when he took it, a stone face glared down to Misao as she started to cry again.

'Misao, can I share this piece with you,' he asked. Her smile and nod brought the room to ease and smiles as Aoshi broke his share in half and fed the ecstatic girl as she sat in his lap.

From that, Misao learned the joy of sharing, of being mindful, and the power of empathy.

"I have trouble eating dorayaki now," Misao commented, remembered the filled pancake snack from the story. "I always have to tear mine in half before I can eat it. People look at me funny."

Aoshi did remember. The little girl crying buckets of tears. She was a good girl, though, and did as he told her. After that, Hannya started training her kempo. Aoshi looked on in pride, not just of Misao, but of Hannya, who he had taught. But he was also forlorn that she asked Hannya, rather than him.

The question ate at him. Even though he lasted until the next day, Aoshi found himself too intrigued to stop himself.

"Why did you ask Hannya for kempo lessons?"

"Instead of you, you mean?" Misao grinned good-naturedly. "It was obvious, isn't it?"

"No."

"You were too busy," Misao said easily. "I know you rushed through and were late to meetings because you watched my lessons. That's why I asked Hannya. Because I knew you taught him. I wanted to learn what you knew. But you were too important to the organization for me to ask you to teach me."

"Really? That's why?"

"No, it's because Hannya is better looking than you," Misao deadpanned. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to lie to you… Of course, it's because of that."

Aoshi was satisfied with obtaining an answer and they travelled in moderate silence.

Since they weren't in a rush, they set a more, standard human speed for their journey. Though, they still travelled much faster than any other around them. Since they were caring travel permits and Aoshi still had his voucher for his weapon from Saitou, they took the Tokaidou once they reached it. When they came across the way houses they alternated between staying overnight and stopping for just a bath and meal.

They were almost to the end of their journey when they stopped at a hotel for the night.

"Oh, what a good looking couple you two make," the hostess laughed a little too loudly. "We have one room left, you lucky love birds. Come in, come in."

Misao was hesitant and more than a little skeptical at the behavior, but followed Aoshi's lead.

"The walls are thick in this building and we have wooden doors for extra privacy." The hostess walked into the room and opened a closet. "The futon is in here. Would you like for us to set it out for you?"

"No, we'll manage, thank you." Misao couldn't help the odd twitch in her eye. Something was setting her on edge.

"Yukata are in the trunk, help yourself. And the baths are where I pointed them out downstairs." The woman went to the door. "Dinner will be brought up after six, if that's convenient."

"Sounds wonderful," Misao smiled until the door closed and the footsteps faded. "What is this gross feeling, Aoshi-sama?"

"It's as I feared."

"What is, Aoshi-sama?" Misao set down her bad.

"This kind of establishment is going to start tarnishing the name of hotels and inns." Aoshi sat. "When you go out, don't make eye contact with anyone, don't talk to the, don't accidentally touch them, and absolutely do not go anywhere with them."

"Okay." Misao replied promptly. "Any hint as to why?"

Aoshi stared at her. She waited patiently.

"The extra thick walls. The privacy of doors." Aoshi pointed out. "Why would she tell her patrons that?"

Misao pondered. "Ah!" she snapped her fingers. "She also pointed out that we looked like a couple, so it can only be that."

Nodding, Aoshi was glad it didn't have to be said out loud.

"This is a love hotel!"

…

Author's note: I have no idea when love hotels started in Asia. I'm not researching it. Nope. But, levity was needed. This was not a particularly fun chapter for them, was it?

What's gonna happen? What's gonna happen?